Backlogged Blog

Instead of doing my homework, I went sky- diving and I dyed my hair pink. I have been trying to think of some ways that these actions could enhance the work I am now extremely behind on, but they don’t. They were so rewarding that my procrastination problems have increased.

The Hooligan Behind The Blog

Who am I?

I’ll tell you that I hate answering this question, because at times I feel like a bundle of contradictions, and trying to navigate that makes me nervous. 

I think the most important thing to know about me is my motivations. I do this blog because there is an imbalance of weirdness. I feel the need to distribute some of the fun I have experiencing the silliness and beauty of everyday life. And I feel the need to experience more myself, so that I can get through the day happy. 

If you are still curious, here are some Dana factoids:

• I dislike summarizing: books, movies, what someone said, what happened—I am much too impatient of a person. 
  
• My dorm room walls are reminiscent of the way crazy movie characters decorate their walls.
• I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. As a result, I am extremely detail- oriented, to the point of distraction, and I am disorganized in all important matters.
• I dress strangely. I wear wigs, extreme shoes, and tacky vintage finds, but I also wear jeans and t-shirts.
• I pretend I am the host of a vegan cooking show.
• I think skeletons are astonishing.
• I get excited over tiny details that many people ignore; I am the weirdo that stops dead in her tracks to make eye contact with the squirrel eating old pizza. 
• I can fall asleep almost instantly.
  

Postless Blogs And The Jargon Of Political Avoidance

I've been wondering how much of myself I must reveal in order for this blog project to work out.  I've worried so much about it that I haven't blogged, much to the chagrin of my professor. Even with my "What Is Mundane Mischief?" entry, he told me to speak at least a little about the person I am. I thought making the blog said enough about the type of person I am, so avoided changing it.  Then I started reading Heather and Brenda's blogs; they are so intensely open it put me in awe of their bravery and made me a little ashamed.  Heck, even Frank the can man has an introspective post.  So far, I have been trying to avoid being so open, but now I feel that that goes against the meaning of the whole blog, and that it falls short of the standards my peers have met.

Why am I hiding?  I guess that I am intimidated.  I fear that not only will the project be a complete flop, but that everyone in my class will know all about me and the reasons why I failed.  I have to get over it though-- my grade depends on it.

Further, considering how much of myself to reveal goes beyond simply identifying myself or making incriminating remarks, and into the very nature of the tasks I choose to do. I have been trying to get some ideas together to kick-start the blog action, so I met with a close friend and brainstormed some potential ideas, many of which have a political bent. I consider myself an activist on many fronts and I try to stay informed on current issues. Like anyone, my politics are part of what make me unique; still, that may be the very reason I must avoid politicizing this work. If I perform too many tasks that emphasize one political viewpoint, I risk alienating people with differing opinions. It just seems too easy to push people away in the name of taking a stand. After all, aren’t I supposed to be reaching out to unexpected people?

The other side of my brain is saying that every act is political. Even something as simple as picking up a piece of trash, while it may not blurt out who I voted for, is certainly a blatant political action. It doesn’t seem genuine to stick only to tasks which can be generally accepted. After all, aren’t I supposed to be shaking things up?

Really, I am having two content debates: how much of me should go into these acts and these blog entries, and how should politics (my own or otherwise) factor in.

So, here’s my decision. As a part of this blog’s journey, I must to reveal a bit more of myself in both my tasks and my reporting of them, and I have to pick a mix of tasks (some more political than others), keeping in mind my goal of disturbing the hustle- bustle and bringing strangers together.

Well, I guess the first step is to write a real About Me page.

Graffitizing The Mundane

At this point, I have realized that this project will be fluid and I will constantly be redefining it. The other day I decided to make some public art as another way of reaching out. When I was five I was a very well-behaved child. One day though, I had this brand new, 24 color box of Mickey Mouse crayons. I took them outside with me and I made a colorful mural on the patio slates. I was really excited because the colors looked so rich on the blue- gray slate. I don’t remember exactly what I drew, but I remember being extremely proud of it. By the time my mom found my artwork, the wax was melting and swirling together from the summer heat. She was shouting the word “graffiti”.

I scrubbed the wax off, but the punishment didn’t work, and from then on I was fascinated by graffiti. I paid special attention when my family drove through NYC, careful to notice any tag or mural, it was like a game. I did some of my own too, and I was smart about it. At first it was modest and I did it small enough to stay hidden to the casual observer. I would color a few tiles on the kindergarten doll house or I would write a beautiful word in the corner of a room. It was never pointless or spiteful. They were happy images— I wanted to make treasures like the ones I saw sprayed on buildings in the city. When I see beautiful graffiti I think about its meaning before I think about it as vandalism— my goal was only to impart the same feeling. So I marked the floors and walls of places where I had bad experiences so they could become better, but I also marked places of positivity, so I could share it with others.

As a teen, I was excited by the political graffiti I saw around me and I wanted to be a part of that too. It was art that was alive, art that interacted with its environment; one person draws one thing and another draws over it or responds to the message. Graffiti is the collective unconscious. It announces where to get a good blow job; it lets a dishonest cardboard politician speak the truth. It vivifies ugly, generic public places. The ironic thing is that people call it vandalism when it defaces something, but what of it when it enhances beauty or it wakes observers to the truth?

So the graffiti bug never left me. I went to college, I got bolder, and it got worse. I decided I would do some work grander than anything I’d ever done. I bought spray paint. I went out at night, dressed extravagantly, to the worst parts of Albany and painted the town. I had uplifting, thought- provoking messages and images in mind, and I sprayed them.

And I felt bad. I was sloppy because I had never used spray paint before, and because I was scared. The words dripped together. I couldn’t undo it either. I’d created an eyesore instead of a point of interest. Mundane mischief became criminal mischief.

I’m not saying I’ve left my sharpies, stickers, or paint out to dry just yet. I will however think more carefully about planning my designs, because in the few hours before the anti-vandalism truck Defacer- Eraser (Albany's official Anti- vandalism site) comes to clean, I’d want people to think differently about the day because of what they saw.