If only this were true!

Obama Releases 500,000 Men From U.S. Strategic Bachelor Reserve

My current obsession: Dutch Wax Cloth

As soon as I saw this darling ottoman, I was obsessed. I am beginning to amass a collection of gorgeous custom-made (and store bought from the Cote d'Ivoire fabric collection produced a couple of years ago by Zachary's Smile in SoHo and also sold at Anthropologie) Dutch wax print dresses with fabric from various places in Harlem, Africa and The Netherlands. (including an Obama dress with fabric from Mali!)

Thankfully, my academentia endeavors have paid off and I had a bit of extra cash so I ordered it, and thank goodness because it seems to be getting some press, and who knows if it will sell out?

The ottoman, here:

http://www.anthropologie.com/anthro/catalog/productdetail.jsp?pushId=HOME-FURNITURE&selectedProductSize=&id=063174&sortProperties=&navCount=30&isProduct=true&templateType=&catId=HOME-FURNITURE&fromCategoryPage=&selectedProductSize1=&prepushId=&popId=HOME&isSubcategory=&subCategoryId=

and here:

http://nymag.com/shopping/bestbets/68063/index1.html

Here is info on a designer who makes LOVELY clothes with this material:

http://concreteloop.com/2009/08/designer-spotlight-maya-a-lake-of-boxing-kitten?cp=3

And info about the complex history of these textiles which were part of colonial networks of industrial production, from a scholar:

http://www.international.ucla.edu/article.asp?parentid=67940

And here is an article on one of my favorite artists, Yinka Shonibare, who uses wax cloth in his work:

http://www.artnews.com/issues/article.asp?art_id=1202

In one of his recent videos, a dancer is shown wearing a gorgeous dress in which the print includes the Chanel logo. As I am going to Amsterdam next month, I planned to scour the fabric market for this print, which I covet. Right now I have dresses with floral patterns but also an old school Walkman and high-heeled shoes. (the latter two from Senegal) Sadly, the Chanel print was custom-made for the artist. I would die to rock that.....

A Sad Day for Art Lovers

I have a running list of museums I'd like to visit. The Liberace Museum, in a mall in Vegas, is high on that list. Today I woke up to the tragic news that the museum is closing 10/17. Why they did not give more advance notice is unclear. But now I am scrambling to figure out if I can go for a weekend. Not kidding. My fantasy had been to do an American Road trip, drive to Graceland and the LIberace museum.....and stop to see other campy American monuments along the way. I had also planned to celebrate a landmark birthday (yes, I am not yet 21) party in Vegas expressly to see the museum, but instead we went to LA. No time to waste on regrets, Travelocity, here I come.

The full sad story is here:

http://www.lvrj.com/news/liberace-museum-to-close-after-31-years-102646619.html

The fabulous Liberace:

Sorry I haven't posted

I just came across a note about the fabulous artist Cory Arcangel's latest project, which is a sample of "sorry I haven't posted" blog posts. I had wanted to write one myself then decided silence would speak for itself, why post to say I cannot post. Is that not a contradiction? That's like not answering an email and then sending a one liner saying, oh things have been messy the past few days/weeks/months, I'll be in touch. I'm finding twitter to be much more feasible with my current work schedule (on leave, ha ha ha, academentia rocks!).

You can see his project here:
http://sorry.coryarcangel.com/

And here he is talking about one of my favorite works he did, I Shot Andy Warhol:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnzZXkh3XOk&feature=related

No estaba en el Mas Alla, estaba en Bora, Bora

HOLA is my FAVORITE magazine. Yes, even more than Artforum. Mexican bolero crooner Luis Miguel disappeared for a few months and twitter as well as TV shows were rife with rumors of his demise. Fortunately, he is still with us.

Read the full story in HOLA, here
http://www.hola.com/musica/2010091444732/luis/miguel/disco/1/

Fun with Academentia #247: Reviews

@petitemaoiste

I read readers' reports for a thing I sent to a press and it feels like listening to eulogies at your own funeral in a good way.#academentialess than a minute ago via web
Anonymous reader reports are fundamental for academentia, the premise of objectivity in peer-reviewed publications validates you as a scholar and is the basis for hiring and tenure. This is trickier than it sounds, since if you are collegial, a team player, go to a school where a particular subject area is prominent either as a student or teacher, and this leads others with shared interests to go there too, you end up being friendly or close friends with other people working in areas similar to yours. However, the reviewers for books, articles, tenure, etc. are supposed to be impartial. So in this way, paradoxically, being a collegial person or working collaboratively or being recruited as part of efforts to develop a core of faculty in a particular area might actually make this type of evaluation difficult. In my case, I was lucky to find people who were not close friends, who were anonymous reviewers, and who supported my project and gave me fabulous feed-back. On top of this, they had to address my standing in my field and were very complementary, hence my reaction that it felt like I was listening to eulogies at my own funeral. If you are working in the high-pressure world of academentia, you need to have a sense of humor!

Missed Connections

The second leg of my summer vacation took me to visit a dear friend who no longer lives in the same city as me (one of the perils of academentia is ending up alone in the city where you went to grad school and made close friends) got off to a dramatic start. Summer storms led to a hours-long delay, followed by delight at boarding for the long flight and the announcement of imminent take off. Until I saw a flurry of flight attendants sprinting to the First Class section (I had scored a coveted exit row seat directly behind) of the plane. The head cabin attendant got on the PA and asked if there was a doctor on board to silence, quickly followed by a staccato: any nurses, nurse practitioners, paramedics? Please ring your call button. Two women rushed forward towards the huddled mass of uniformed personnel and the feet of the prone passenger covered by one of the blankets I had sought but could only obtain - at a price. I saw the gestures familiar from movies and TV - one of the people was trying to massage the passenger's heart back into operation. For at least 20 minutes. Simultaneously, the plane was careening back towards our gate. At this point, my Recovering Catholic Stockholm Syndrome was kicking in and I made the sign of the Cross and prayed silently. They explained there was a sick passenger and that we had to return to the gate in order for paramedics to come. But suddenly two NYC cops entered, took a sweeping glance into the cabin, and took out notebooks following which the flight attendant asked the two women who performed CPR to come speak to them. It seemed to me that the passenger was dead. In any case, the blanketed feet disappeared, another passenger departed on foot following. Again over the PA a flight attendant called out a name, and a man came up from the rear and was moved to First Class. Yes, he was on standby for an upgrade, and this was his opportunity. That's airplane travel today folks, survival of the fittest. (I was wondering why would they not offer the upgrade to the Good Samaritan who tried to resuscitate the passenger.) And we were on our way.

After the requisite calming speech from the Captain including the "our thoughts and prayers are with our fellow passenger," I spoke to one of the shaken flight attendants who told me it was the wife in a couple that had left NY en route to their country of residence (intending to make a connection in the city where I was headed) after celebrating their 50th anniversary with family.

Although I have had many family members and close friends my own age die, I have never seen a person in the act of dying, if you can call what I saw precisely that.

To make things even more surreal, when we learned of the second or third delay at the airport, I called my friend to bitch in Spanish and noticed out of the corner of my eye a cute guy. (I always wonder if this is the flight where I will meet an exciting stranger, but always end up with the crying babies etc. instead) During the excruciatingly long flight, the cute guy and I began to flirt sporadically (after the requisite commiserating about the tragic events, it would be in poor taste otherwise), which I guiltily enjoyed tremendously.

Once I got off the plane, I sought him out at the baggage claim, but as my luck would have it, he must have taken his stuff on board. So for the first time, I tried out the Craig's List Missed Connections feature, crafting what I hoped was a sufficiently insouciant and witty sentence that evoked our playful banter on board. Of course I never heard from the guy.