Anglo Frenzy

The act of color and text must be composed by one who is pure at heart. Beauty is born when the creator recognizes the purpose of the piece. In Anglo Frenzy beauty is discovered. Text flows through my mind, body, and soul with an aggressive gesture. The colors embrace each word with a passion and a purpose. The drawing was made as fast as the words flowed into my mind; freely; openly. The piece is cut into 15 squares and each has a three word text that describes a specific state of mind.

This piece stands on its own, in large part due to its raw gesture spilling out onto the paper. It can live, breathe, and die on its own.

Alia

Texts drawn from Tina Turner, Black Eye Peas, and NY Times

I'll never let you wrong, rotten to the core/
cause it grows so dictatorial gotta get-get that it has become/
bigger something like boom boom pow driven-by support, honking/
morality has rotten to the core/
fat that have gotta get-get grown/
are called boom boom pow box/
and it gets baby spoke like a rotten to the core rueful patriarch/
do I love you, Oh my gotta get-get followers out in support/
lunch burgers, with such leaders boom boom pow/
yeah river mountains rotten to the core, gotta get-get, boom boom pow

-Linda

The Red Belly

The red belly is so bright. It looks like a good cherry. It is as bright as Rudolf's nose. The red belly's jelly bean. Jelly beans are so good. Or it could be a jelly belly, maybe the cinnamon flavored one. The red belly's huge heart, beating gallons of bright red blood. The red belly of a pig. In Hawaii, I want to go to a luau and see the red belly of the pig. Actually, that might be gross, but I would love to watch the hula dancers. I tried hula dancing once, not in a studio and without instruction. I just tried it on my own in my house. My family laughed at me. I'm sure it was quite a spectacle considering I had no idea what I was doing. The red belly's laughter. It makes me think of a jolly old Santa Claus in his big red suit chuckling.

Dada

On Tuesday, as he watched I had a rag doll, 

swelling antigovernment protests boom,

there was nothing but yellow.

I ran from suburban Virginia, Mr. Ace-ship-zoom

described a sense of dread is praised by the

mixing with happiness. With straight shaped man body 

moving with dress slashing "Of the intelligibility of our 

own version of freedom and demanding of a coat for 

the people are doing right ring brutality, piss 

translator, their legs blazing."But I know that people of an animal 

running outwards

from themselves are doing to jail and some will be

the government, flashing." Tolerated when, when I step, and yelling.

And there was nothing but yellow

1999 and 2003 for only a few days

fearsome crackdowns, sending bashes grown them girls

campuses, where they flung a few I sleep and play,

windows bloodied as many heads as they could I could play 

a video of

bricks, chains, or truncheons; and jailed scores.

Similar intimidation tactics have been on display for the 

past few days now, the silent text moves flashing and yelling both truths 

with little result as I ran state bit.

There is nothing but yellow. with flashing

obviously truths 

and under the half asleep eyes I only narrate to those awake the

things I see and there is nothing but yellow.

Katrina Goudey

I am for an art that is barfed all over the floor from dirinkjning too much wayy too fast in inappropriate company. I am for an art that has esp with the spider crawling with a mad methodology on the ceiling of the room. I am for an art that is silent, subtle, eyes lowered sitting in red silk in the corner of the hotel lobby. I am for an art that is so caffinated that its left eye twitches spasmically. I am for an art that is poetry scattered off the rooftops downtown. I am for an art that is late for a meeting, still wearing last night's clothes, with a huge undeniable grin on its face.

I Build, I Hold, I Am For An Art That

I build a biography of myself on a 3.5 notecard in nine lines.
I build a notebook of writing compiled from my writing class.
I build an army of zombie eggs and set them loose to the world to devour and infect other eggs.

I hold a pencil in my hand.
I hold an awkward dusty object in my hand that I thought originally was a broken piece of ceramic but was actually something quite different.
I hold the right to stand up for the things I disagree with my hot-headed, stubborn friend on.
I hold the key to my apartment.
I hold the responsibilities of a being the oldest sibling in my family.

I am for an art that has a point and meaning.
I am for an art that has no point and meaning, no concepts, no politics.
I am for an art that took effort to make and isn't some half-assed shit where nothing absolutely happens.
I am for an art that is as fun to play with as this stainless steel lock.

-Katherine Gu

The Sandwich Board Man

The sandwich board man is holding a big turkey sandwich filled with all the best toppings: cheese, lettuce, tomato, mustard and mayo. He is making me very hungry. The sandwich board man stands there staring off into space. I would love to know what he is looking at for all of eternity. The sandwich board man is just standing there holding a plate forever. He reminds me of Atlas, stuck holding up the Earth. Poor guy, I hope that plate and sandwich isn't too heavy. What is he wearing? Certainly a chef's hat and apron is appropriate, but wouldn't it get cold on a winter night? I wouldn't want to be stuck out there if it was snowing. Yet, he must be so lonely. Maybe, I'll sit with him for awhile to keep him company. Or maybe, I'll go get one of those sandwiches he is holding up first. I'm still hungry and then we could hold our sandwiches together. But that makes me think, doesn't he want to enjoy his sandwich too? I'm sure he would be hungry, smelling that delicious sandwich all the time. I am reminded by the bird that lands atop the billboard that the sandwich board man is merely painted on a solid piece of wood. The wooden billboard is fifteen feet in the air.

10 Things I Did in the Morning.....

I woke up at 5:32 AM. Still half-asleep, I strained my neck to look out the window from my second-story bedroom. The sun was barely pushing through the clouds. Too early, I thought, and let the waves of euphoria wash over me. It seemed as if only 30 minutes had gone by when I heard the blaring of my alarm- the annoying repetition of the same musical verse over and over again. It was actually 9:25 AM. I looked at the clock again, just to make sure I did not have 30 more minutes to continue to dream. As I realized I had only five minutes or so to get ready, I sprung from my bed as if someone had placed a hot pan under me. I then dashed to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and my face. I chose my outfit, with my eyes barely open, grabbed my bag and squirted out the door. As I drove to school like a Nascar driver, I reminded myself to set my alarm earlier for next week.

The First Ten Things I Did on the Morning of 6-25-2009

1) A guy friend of mine called and woke me up at 10:55 a.m.

2) The first thing I said to him is "crap, I'm late."

3) I checked my alarm and realized that it was set to 9p.m.

4) I rushed to the bathroom and got ready.

5) Then, I bit my donut that cost 99 cents for a dozen from Alberson's.

6) It tasted like frozen dried bread except that it wasn't cold.

7) I threw it away after a bite.

8) I power walked towards the Arts department under the sun and thought it would be a good idea to wear a pair of sunglasses.

9) I walked into he class while everyone was looking at a piece of art work.

10) Marcus asked if I over slept. I smiled. 

I build/I hold/I am for an art that

I build. I build the railroad that exists between my houses and the rest of the town I build the sound the metal makes against something--the brown squeak, the redding and rust illegal metal to wood and dust in my gums. I built that. Built it into me like a heart. My grandfather almost lost a finger when he was young but his mother wrapped it tight and it grew back, my grandfather lost the first part of his ring finger when he was older and his mother was dead. 

I hold the plush feeling of baseball caps in my hand, the brim of the hat in the palm, smooth, stitched--the wind blows and it feels like rippling in my hand. My fingers suddenly smell of grandmother's perfume, like I scratched her and got blood under my nails that turned brown and didn't wash off and the smooth walls of concrete tell me I should not have been here. I have to eat my leftovers cold now and they're both gone.

Katrina Goudey 

Inspired by Sonia Delaunay - "The Color Danced"

A drawing must define the subject in a two-dimensional way that utilizes form, value, and color. Such a drawing should engage the spectator into a discussion of the subject matter it depicts.

This piece is built upon three physical elements: marker, ragged paper, and glue. Utilizing different color markers in swift dexterous strokes that define phrases that reflects the "Anglo Frenzy".

I am for an art...

I am for an art that warms my soul like the rays of the sun.

I am for an art that tickles my nose.

I am for an art that runs through my veins burning with each beat.

I am for an art that smells brand new and is cool and clean.

I am for an art that thrives in the ocean crashing upon me with the force of the moon.

I am for keeping a journal that only I can see.

I am for an art that spills on the ground because it can’t be contained inside of me any longer.

I am for the art of making babies; babies that coo; babies that cry; babies that smile, and babies that love.

I am for an art that calms the winds and a restless child.

I am for the art of silence.

An Anglo Frenzy

Bold, colorful cap-sized words sandwiched together to make a collection of individual short statements that concisely speak about/against the human behavior. This is an artwork that the audience must read, and perhaps read between the lines, horizontally, and/or vertically. These painted brush words are eye-catching like news print article, but have their own original font style and the chosen words are simple so a vast group of audience are able to read them. Interestingly, at the bottom right, the term "dis-en-gage" is broken up - the three syllables are emphasized, while the rest are three worded phrases.

-Linda Chung

The Sandwich Board "Man"

The sandwich board man stands there, a position for which compensation is put in question yet is that enough to accomodate for his humiliation? Perhaps a minimum wage salary is given but here's the thing, he needs to do what he needs to do survive. Regardless of his purpose here, whether it's advertising some silly product for which he himself is too poor to buy due to the superficiality of this modern age. So he stands there, maybe he's forced to do a little dance, sing a little tune to attract visitors as this is merely a brief moment of amusement in their "perfect" lives. These passer byers gaze not at the human being that is trapped in this charade, but instead they gaze at this new product or deal in an animated way. The sandwich board man is entrapped between two entities, metaphoric to his lively condition in this lifetime. Stuck between two things without any hope of escape until the shitft is finally over and he can drag himself to job #2 or #3. What does the future hold for this poor man? Does he one day break free from the confines of his uniform or does he stand tall and find his destiny's calling, one day fulfilling his dream after facing a threshold he eventually breaks. Hope is in his hands after advertising viagra medicine in a senior citizen populated area, hope is fleeting yet it exists in his mind. Actions speak louder than words however, but if not taken soon then his time will leave him and all who depended on this tiny man with a big heart will be let down, suffering the wrath of a wrongful society that didn't give this man a better opportunity or maybe it's all..........his............fault......

The Sandwich Board Man

The Sandwich Board Man

Who is the Sandwich Board man?
Or is he the Sandwich Bored Man?
Maybe he is just a man who is always being yelled at to sand boards and never knows which boards to sand, so he yells back, “sand which board man?!”
Maybe he is a combination of both…

I imagine the Sandwich Board Man to be a man who helps make skate boards for a living and also brings a sandwich to work everyday for lunch. This sandwich board man is very bitter and has a major temper issue. Ever since he was young he dreamed of becoming a professional skateboarder. However, he somehow got stuck sanding skate boards instead of being able to fulfill his dream skating out at the skate park. His boss always tells him to go sand boards but the sandwich board man never knows which one to sand. Everyday he replies back at his boss yelling, “sand which board man?” Everyday during lunch break, the Sandwich Board Man pulls out a sandwich and eats it as he dreams of himself one day being able to leave this boring job, quit eating sandwiches, and to go skateboard. After lunch time is over, the Sandwich Board Man goes back to sanding more boards. Day and night, the Sandwich Man continues to sand boards everyday. I can see why he would be bored. I know I definately would be just about to go crazy if all I was allowed to do was to sand boards all day. I wonder what will happen to this poor Sandwich Board Man. I hope he will eventually be able to live his dream and finally become happy.

The First Ten Things That I Did On The Morning Of 6-25-2009

1. My cell-phone's alarm clock woke me up at 7:30a.m.
2. I hit the snooz button 4 times before I finally got up at 8:10a.m.
3. I jump off my bed, and i stretched my arms up.
4. I walk slowly to the restroom with my eyes still kind of close.
5. Being semi-awake, I hit my gums while brushing my teeth. The pain really woke me up. Blood flows out of my gum, so I try goggling water to wash it out.
6. I get out of my room and saw that all the light were off and thought that probably my roommates are still sound asleep.
7. I turned on the light and got a cup out of the diswasher.
8. I mixed honey with cold water first and then some hot water. While drinking my hot water, I change out of my pajamas.
9. I turned on my computer while preparing my breakfast.
10. I checked my email as I drink my soymilk and sandwich.

- Jia Hui Huang

Nancy Holt's Sun Tunnels

It burns my rusty metal skin. The hot torches the men use on me. They finish, but it is not over. A new layer is carried over by a crane. It is getting dark. A hat, how kind, but my head is not cold. I feel they are placing me in solitude confinement. The mountain vista is painted black. The blue skies, with scattered clouds, painted black. Why do they insist on soiling me, covering me in cement? I was once free to hear, to see. Now, I am blind, but I am not alone. So many came before me. It hurts, the holes they drill in me, like Christ being pierced with a spare. I am being lifted once again onto a transportable device. Their chains are tight. TAKE IT OFF ME!! Why can't you hear me? A journey across the desert. At least, I get to travel before I reach my final resting spot. Exhaust fumes leave a stench and layer of residue on my skin. Am I going to hell? This beast, that I am tied to, takes me to the heated land. The sun is warm. And I feel alone, although, three of me siblings are here too. Hell or Heaven? I will never know. Please visit me and let me know.

-Richard Kent

The Sandwich Board Man (By Val Chin)

The Sandwich Board Man, I have to admit, I don't remember reading about in the reading. The title does remind me of the fact that I was supposed to make a sandwich yesterday so that I could eat it for lunch in between classes today, but I didn't... partly because I was too lazy... partly because I forgot.

The Sandwich Board Man would probably have a sandwich for me though. He is probably always making sandwiches, it is just what he does... so he'd have so many leftover that he could give them to whoever is nearby and hungry. Surely he'd share one with me. Surely he would, right? I think he would. Anyone who would make sandwiches on his free time would seem like a nice guy to me. Maybe a salami sandwich, or a tuna salad sandwich! Now I am making myself hungry...

Maybe the Sandwich Board Man is just a name to get people thinking about sandwich so that they would get hungry and want a sandwich... a good marketing ploy in my opinion.

If the Sandwich Board Man that I described above really exists, I wonder where I would find him. I imagine that he is a hefty man (from eating sandwiches all the time), who lives in a shack or something... Kind of run down cabin or trailer... something like that. I could imagine he's the humble type who has alot of cash, but doesn't splurge or waste it. All he would need to spend his money on is sandwich ingredients (and utilities of course). He wouldn't be a very well kept man though. Kind of burly, unshaven, and taller than your average man. HA! Kind of like Santa Claus I guess. Somehow I just made the connection that the Sandwich Board Man is like Santa Claus, my brain works in weird ways, I know. Yumm... Sandwich.

The Sandwich Board Man

The sandwich board man, or is it the sand witch board man, or which sandwich bored man, or is he a board man or a bored man. I'm bored with this sandwich board man. I don't even know what he does. Does he make sandwiches? Or is he a sand witch. I think sand witches are cooler. I think he was a sand witch that was bored to death.

That's what i think. He was a sand witch bored man. I mean how many other witches are there in the sand? There's only one I'm guessing. So i wonder what he did all day? He was probably bored. Especially if he lived in the sands of El Centro, or the Mojave dessert. If he hung out on the beach sand, maybe he wouldn't have been so bored, but whatever, he's dumb. He should totally move to like San Diego, or maybe even Orange Country, but I think La Jolla would be the best bet. Maybe even Coronado because there's a Hotel Del there that's supposedly haunted and he could have some ghost friends or whatever, and he wouldn't be bored!

So I vote that this bored sand witch man goes and moves so he can stop making me write about how bored he is. 

- Uyen Duong