Tuesday, December 25, 2007
So she decided that she must do it.
She began plans for an Art Performance Event to occur at her place of residence, also known as 'The Julia'.
She opened up her home as a piece of art.
To encourage people to look through the art (aka all of her belongings) she decided to have them create something of their own out of her belongings.
She asked attendees to collect various items, or to put notes on any items that they find.
She also bought a very large bottle of vodka and encouraged people to bring their own alcoholic beverages.
The result was a glorious night of happiness and art.
There was even a spontaneous massage circle in her dining room inspired by the appropriation of her 'back massager' by local Houston Artist, Emily Sloan.
Julia Claire Wallace's home was covered in delightful post its and letters that she continued to discover for weeks.
Julia Claire Wallace lives with her sister in her parents house, while the rest of her family lives across town. Her parents are usually not home, but they happened to stop by the next day and the next door neighbor politely asked to be informed about the next party, so that he could sleep somewhere else if there is "going to be singing and drinking in the front yard at 4am."
(Did I mention the spontaneous singing pieces that occurred?)
They apologized profusely and then Julia Claire Wallace's mother added her own notes around the gallery:
It is important to note, that months later, the house is still decorated with the notes of the attendees.
The event was attended/contributed to by Local Houston Artists such as: Robyn Lea Locklin, Aisen Chacin, Tyson Urich, Patrick O'brien Doyle, Emily Sloan, Brian D. McCord, Shane Maeberry, Michael Brims and many others.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Documentation of Art by local artists that should be documented: Julia Claire Wallace: began December 2007
She contemplated if her lack of memory and attention to detail would inspire the artists to document their work better than she could. She hoped so.
by Nancy Douthey
October 19, 2007
Nancy Douthey worked with the UH fitness center for months convincing them to let a performance art piece to occur in their pool area. Instead of creating normal fliers, she went to a T-shirt store and printed T-shirt fliers on misprinted T-shirts for a dollar a piece (one was scanned by Julia Claire Wallace for the picture above). She placed the shirts in the pool area days before the event to be taken by anyone who desired to have one. She also created the web flier pictured above which was placed in places such as Buffalo Sean's Houston Artblog.
The evening of October 19th was family night, so the pool was filled with children and their parents. Whistles (such as the one scanned above) were placed in containers around the pool before 6:30 with instructions inviting people to take them.
A little past 6:30 Nancy Douthey came out of building as a coach, blowing her whistle. She called everyone to gather together. She instructed everyone to blow in various ways. She split the group into two and had them face each other. She had the two groups blow to each other in various ways. As soft as possible, as loud as possible, etcetera. She maintained a very solemn and intense countenance during the entire performance. Lastly, she blew her own whistle at the groups as hard as she could.
She performed the piece twice to accommodate the local artists who came to see the event late.
(Participators included local artists such as: Michael Brims, Emily Sloan, Elia Arce, Sebastian Forray, Julia Claire Wallace, Shane Maeberry etc.)
note: The t-shirt inspired a funny story often related by Artist Patrick Doyle in which he misreads the word blow while looking in the mirror. He also claimed that someone tried to buy his BLOW shirt off of his back when he was drinking at a local bar.
note 2: A Blow t-shirt and whistle hung on the walls of the artist Elia Arce's residence after the event.
note 3: Local artist Tyson Urich commented that the small whistle on the BLOW T-shirt looks very similar to an ovary.
Untitled: October 24, 2007
by Patrick O'Brien Doyle
Patrick O'Brien Doyle walked through the Bruce Nauman opening at the Menil Collection dressed in a cardboard box.
(witnessed by most of the local artists involved in Andrea Grover's Participation Art class)
Monday, December 10, 2007
Julia Claire Wallace was at home and ready to go out at 7 pm on Sunday, December tenth. She called her friend Heili, but she did not answer.
She decided to take a nap and wake up around party time. She woke up at 11:45 and texted local artist Patrick O'brien Doyle and local designated driver and party thrower Mishaal. The texts were influenced by the fact that no phone calls or texts have been answered by either of these Houstonians in about a week.
The text to Patrick read:
Patrick! Are you mad at me? If not-Are you going out tonight? If you are- I will have to track you down and force some art therapy on you.
She spent her time by cooking some dinner (fettuccine alfredo) and talking to Los Angeles artist and former boyfriend Chason Chaffin on the internet.
A feeling of discomfort grew as her texts continued to go unanswered. She sent one more to the two boys reading:
Are you guys ignoring me! Why?? Tell me! Does everyone hate me or is it just the pills I am taking! I can't tell! Ah!!!
She watched M.A.S.H. and awaited an answer. As none came she began to feel herself reaching a kind of panic. She was vaguely aware that this was silly, but the voice telling her so was very quiet compared to the intensity of her panic. She debated in her mind the various reasons that there could be anger within their hearts.
Eventually she decided she would go out to the bars and look for them despite the small chance she had of finding them and the late hour (1:45 am).
She arrived at the local hipster bar, a favorite location of the boys. She walked in feeling very self conscious being alone, and entering the bar so close to last call.
She did not see the boys. She went to bathroom and washed her hands, because she felt like they smelled funny, and it was nice to have something to do besides look around. Then she decided to look around upstairs but as she began to walk up them, she realized that there was a velvet rope blocking the stairs. She had just walked into it, and that was extremely embarrassing. She laughed at herself and quickly exited the building feeling terribly silly.
Then she decided that she would just drive by the artist Patrick O'brien Doyle's place of residence just in case she could see his head in the window. She daydreamed that maybe she could call up to him and they could work this little misunderstanding out. The feeling of panic was much stronger now, and no voice of reason could be heard.
She drove down his street and U-turned so she could drive directly by his apartment. She craned her neck and tried to see into his window when she caught the glance of a man at the neighboring bar looking at her like she was completely insane.
She quickly realized that if a man sitting at a bar watching her drive by could tell that she was insane, then she must be acting VERY INSANE. She decided to go home and stop being crazy. She called Chason, related her actions, and he agreed whole heartedly that she should go home and stop acting insane.
So she went home, and got onto the internet. The panic was still present, and so she committed one last act of insanity. An email that read like this:
maybe i am crazy, but maybe you are mad at me.
is it because i said i might not talk to you anymore?
because i do want to talk to you more, i was just doing that thing where i run away from people, and i dont want to do that, and thats why i am still talking to you. its easy to run away, but i dont want to i want to be friends friends friends! are you cutting me off for saying it, like you cut off your brother for saying that you wouldnt be friends? And I dont want you to run away either. i wont let you run away from me. if you tell me to leave, i will, but i wont let you hide from me, Patrick Doyle!!!
maybe youre just really busy? or you dont have your phone?
is it because i posted stuff about you online on my new blog?
because i can take that off. i tried to make it anonymous, but maybe it didnt work. i can understand how that would really piss you off.... i didnt mean to, please forgive me? if it makes you mad TELL ME!
are you mad because i called it life art? I did that as a tribute to you, it occurs to me that it might seem like i am stealing your thing, but i thought since everyone in the sixties stole your thing, that it was like a wonderful patrick tribute to reference life art in my blog.
everyone in participation art is pissed at me and nancy!!! (edit: information withheld due to controversial issues that do not need to be discussed in the blog o sphere) I think this is increasing my paranoia about you being mad at me!
But you havent answered any of my texts? and neither has mishaal? usually mishaal answers.... did you tell him i said he was boring? because i dont REALLY feel like he is boring, i mean, i am fully aware that its just as much MY fault when situations i am in are boring. mishaal is great, dont make him hate me.
but maybe you just both didnt have your phones, and maybe you are just being you and not being contactable, which is totally cool just TELL ME IF YOURE MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASEEEE
i was kidding about wanting out of your friend circle, i was joking. i love all of you. youre all beautiful.
DONT HATE ME!
PLEASE DONT HATE ME.
I AM SERIOUS, I will continue to go crazier and crazier until you answer me.
so please answer me.
julia claire wallace.
p.s. pills? is this the pills? i dont know! is this abnormal behavior? maybe its just artist behavior? i think it really is the pills a little bit, but i think i might be embracing the craziness with a little too much of myself. maybe artists who do not see the need to act normally should not be taking shit that fucks with their hormones. ARE YOU MAD AT ME??????????????????????????????????????????????????????
Then she stayed up late working on a drawing and wondering if the boys were angry and if so why. She also emailed Nancy Douthey the email that she sent Patrick in a desperate attempt at grounding herself.
She finally fell asleep around 5:30 am and she had a horrible nightmare that to prove that she was sorry to Patrick O'brien Doyle she promised to EAT GLASS. But when he refused to forgive her she took shards of glass and sliced open her arms to show the intensity of her sorrow, then she hid her bloody arms from him because she realized this was an irrational decision, but she looked at the cuts in amazement and contemplated on how crazy the act was. Mishaal was in the dream too, and he kept acting very angry and saying terrible hurtful things.
Then at 11:45 she awoke to a text message from Mishaal that said:
Wasn't ignoring you sweetie just went to bed very early last night.
Julia Claire Wallace breathed a sigh of relief and then sunk back into a dream in which Mishaal and Julia were sitting in a beautiful green field laughing and discussing how silly the whole misunderstanding had been.
note: The dream sequence convinced the artist that the experience was most definitely influenced by the pills she was taking.
second note: Patrick O'brien Doyle has still not answered any form of contact. Julia Claire Wallace is still somewhat worried, but fortunately no longer feels like doing any more acts of insanity.
update: Julia stopped by the residence of Patrick O'Brien Doyle to drop off a drawing for him to paint later that week and he said that he didn't answer the texts of Julia Claire Wallace because he was sleepy. But she had a wonderful time relating this story to him and his girlfriend.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
They noted that the car of a possible communist was parked in front of his home.
Nancy Douthey knocked repeatedly on his door with her fist as well as her knee in an ominous fashion while they covered his peephole so he would not be able to see who was at the door. Julia tried to see into his window by leaning over the balcony. After a long period of knocking they tried opening the door.
It was unlocked, so they called out Patrick's name and cautiously entered his home.
Julia Claire Wallace placed a color copy of a portrait that she had drawn of Patrick O'Brien Doyle on his refrigerator. It depicted the Houston Artist dressed as a deviled egg, lying in the street bleeding in reference to a previous performance piece that nearly resulted Patrick O'Brien dying in this very fashion.
Patrick O'Brien Doyle was not located in his place of residence, and Julia Claire Wallace and Nancy Douthey were.
Julia Claire Wallace began to write a note to Patrick O'Brien Doyle. It read:
We are devastated to have missed you.
But as Julia was writing Nancy cried out in alarm that Patrick O'Brien had returned home! She could hear a commotion outside and she saw him hugging someone 'cute' goodbye outside!
The two ladies panicked! Julia Claire Wallace quickly pleaded to Nancy to sign the note. She took it, signed it, crossed out the previous message and wrote:
we didn't! we were just in time!
Then the ladies rushed around madly trying to devise a plan to deal with the uncomfortable situation. They could not find any way to exit the building, They could not find any hiding places that suited their fancy.
They decided to sit on the stools and act as if this was a perfectly normal situation and they were simply waiting on Patrick O'Brien Doyle to come and join their meeting.
He did not open the door?
They looked outside, Patrick (Nancy Douthey did admit that it might have been just " a really tall man") had disappeared!
They quickly changed the note once more, crossing out the second message and writing the words "we did." and circling the previously crossed out 'Sorry.'
Then Nancy Douthey and Julia Claire Wallace ran like hell, breathing deep sighs of relief every once and awhile for the next ten minutes.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Hijacking Artlies: A Collaborative Piece Performed by Nancy Douthey and Julia Claire Wallace. October- December 2007.
Apparently, Andrea had been asked to write something for an upcoming Artlies magazine that would be focusing on collaborative/participatory art. She decided to invite her new Participation Art Class to create something together for the magazine.
To make a very long and frustrating story short. The class members each thought of five ideas then voted, re voted, brainstormed, re voted, read the editor's statement, brainstormed, re voted, re voted, re voted, RE brainstormed, and then re voted again , and THEN they had a particularly AWFUL class in which everyone simply argued passionately.
At this point they had come to the conclusion that they were going to recreate something from the sixties. A "mocumentary". The class had mysteriously ended up choosing to recreate the one image that their teacher had brought in. A Fluxus event in which a shapely woman is covered in whipped cream and then licked.
Everyone went home feeling defeated and frustrated, especially Nancy Douthey and Julia Claire Wallace.
The next day, after many various class members about the terrible class, the two Houston artists found themselves discussing the subject on porch of Julia Claire Wallace's Art Space currently known as 'The Julia'.
Nancy Douthey wanted to talk out her frustration, and Julia Claire Wallace was thrilled to join in.
(note: This is the first of the famous "Art Therapy" sessions, that have inspired/contemplated many Houston Art Happenings.)
They discussed and discussed. They devised a rebellious plan to use their energy outside of the stifling classroom setting.
They remembered a story told by Ms. Grover at the beginning of their class, an inspiring story about collaboration and participation taking art from under the nose of authority.
They would steal the Artlies project from their teacher! She would understand, she loves Ant Farm!
They decided to do their own recreation and trick Artlies into printing their own piece instead of the dreaded licking piece!
So they looked online and decided that they must recreate a phone booth stuffing, on the corner of Westheimer and Kirby. They emailed the class and everyone they knew. Everyone in the class spread the word and about 25 people showed up the next afternoon.
(Participants included Houston Artists such as: Lindsay Burleson, Emily Sloan, Michael Brims, Tyson Urich and Aisin Chacin. The fantastic photos were taken by Michael Brims.)
It was beautiful!
Julia Claire Wallace recorded her feelings and thoughts concerning the phonebooth stuffing in her blog. It was a wonderful learning experience for Julia and many of the other artists involved.
They did not tell any of the participants that they were part of a mischievous plot to kidnap the Artlies spot.
A week later they co-wrote an email that they regarded as genius to the magazine and it read as follows:
We are a couple of students in Andrea Grover's Participation Art Class. Andrea Grover came to us with the task of creating something concerning Participation Art for your magazine. After much heated discussion the class finally "agreed" to create the images that Andrea has presumably sent you.
quite a few class members were not completely fulfilled by this endeavor and decided to use the energy and inspiration to create their own "Mocumentary" photo. What ensued was an amazing experience on the corner of Kirby and Westheimer.
Unbeknownst to the participants that they were fulfilling a typical Ant Farm prank, we decided to hijack the mocumentation project. However, due to a lack of hacker skills we did not feel we could adequately dupe you into believing that these photos are from Andrea.
In the spirit of collaboration, we hope you will consider adding this image along with (or instead of) the previous selection. Only with your participation can this participatory project be completed.
Julia Wallace and Nancy Douthey
They heard nothing from Artlies, and were disheartened.
But a month later Julia Claire Wallace and Nancy Douthey showed up to their Participation Art Class extremely late and were greeted with interrogation about a deviant Artlies project that their teacher had been emailed about.
They reacted with a gleeful hug of joy!
(More to come)
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
A) the change in color in the birth control pills currently being taken daily by artist, Julia Claire Wallace
B) Disappointment caused by the actions of her friends.
including but not limited to: losing the superior status of 'single,' and acting as if the artist,
Julia Claire Wallace is a female to be fucked or not fucked.
C) Uncomfortableness caused at information that was thrown about and not well explained.
D) B and C, intensified by A
Julia Claire Wallace decided to attempt a period of solitude. She decided that maybe she should start avoiding tall, skinny artist formerly referred to as 'The Muse' as well as his sidekick. She also debated ignoring another artist which will be referred to as the 'Cheerleader' due to option C, although she assumed she would talk to the Cheerleader soon, because she knew the idea of ignoring her was silly.
Julia Claire Wallace went to the Menil Collection to see the Bruce Nauman exhibit as her first action of solitude. Although, she must admit, she did realize that this place of art was directly in the midst of the homes of both the cheerleader and the artist formerly known as The Muse.
She parked and began to walk toward the Menil Collection, but halted when she realized that with an hour of daylight left and a group of minstrels (which included a banjo) serenading the neighboring park. She must soak in this beauty and go indoors when it was no longer available.
She lay on the ground reading a book entitled "Stardust" that she had started reading because she felt devoid of the energy to read anything of obvious value.
Julia Claire Wallace soaked in the blueness of the sky, the greenness of the grass and the sweetness of the banjo. The leaves that framed the sky were appreciated greatly by the artist and she soaked in the beauty of the moment without thought of the past or future.
At a particularly strange moment when a tiny white hairy dog, and a large friendly Fluffy brown dog were invading her space she saw the artist, formerly known as The Muse ride by on his bicycle. She waved over the large brown dog and pictured what it must look like. A dog, a waving arm.
Surreally, the artist formerly known as The Muse rode back and lay next to her on the green grass.
They discussed many things that she wouldn't remember.
She asked the story of the ballerina accountant, and creator of life art, the boyfriend.
She was happy to hear these stories.
He said that she probably wouldn't like his music, which annoyed her and made her feel hopeless. She decided that he would never ever understand her. This was understandable, but sad.
She told him that she was unsettled by seeing him here, because she had debated avoiding him for a long time. Of course this didn't bother him. She knew it wouldn't. She wouldn't have told him if it would have.
Finally he rode away, and called after her with a laugh, that she should try not to contact him for awhile.
I would have to TRY to contact you, she thought.
She got up and walked toward the museum.
Tears in her eyes. It must be the pills, there is no reason to cry now.
She walked through the exhibit, but she kept crying while she watched Bruce Nauman painting his face or playing one note on the violin in his art studio. She thought he was beautiful. She wondered how she could find someone like Bruce Nauman. Where are the Bruce Naumans? Where are the people who are not afraid?
She had to leave, she couldn't soak in anything.
She drove to CVS and bought a soda and some candy, she debated buying multiple kinds of candy, she wondered about consumerism as she picked out red licorice and Big Red. She wondered what would happen to her if she ate things this red every single day.
As she got back into her car she thought that she should write a book about the artist formerly known as 'The Muse'. This should be the end. This should be it. I should never see him again. It will be a tragedy. People will hate this book because it is so unsatisfying. People will love this book because it is so real. This is what happens. People just leave. She asked herself what people reading the book would think of her. Will they think she should have pressed the matter? She abandoned that line of thinking.
She decided that she should write a book that would capture The Muse the way that he should be, the way that she wished he could be. She should capture the god that she had created in her mind. He is too beautiful to exist only in my mind.
She felt love, for this artist formerly known as The Muse, she did. She wanted to be his friend. She knew she would probably see him again, and that she would always care for him, and that many more good conversations would most likely occur. He is a normal person looking for a comfortable life, and that is fine. She was glad that his pain seemed to be lessening with the new changes in his life.
But she wanted to snip the string between him and The Muse. She didn't want this man who didn't think she would like his music, who dated, who abstained from cocaine, to pervert the glorious Muse that stood so tall in her mind, with his arms wrapped around himself.
So she attempted to snip the string in her mind,
and she felt some relief, but she knew it wasn't really gone.
She went home and created a Life Art Blog to help her deal with the intensity of her emotions.
She documented "An Attempt at Solitude". This helped her feel better. She no longer felt a desire to run away, but she didn't feel the desire to run toward anything either.
She sent the former Muse the writings, even though she had just vowed not to contact him. Although she did realize that she had decided to avoid The Muse, and that she was now contacting the artist formerly known as The Muse which was an entirely different thing altogether.
The Shower Story: A collaborative piece by The Muse and Julia Claire Wallace. November 2007 (Precursors to the Performance of the Letter )
I call this collaborative piece, "The Shower Story"
(an integral part of this piece is that it was told in story form multiple times at multiple bars by the artists)
It (debatably) begins with a conversation:
Setting: car, night, on the way to an after party, both intoxicated, Julia is definitely more intoxicated
Tall and skinny artist who will be referred to here on out as 'The Muse'-
"Julia, can we be completely honest with each other?"
Julia Claire Wallace (frightened)-
" I guess."
"I just saw this movie, there was this woman and she was on top of the man and she says,
'If I fuck you I will hate myself in the morning'
and he says,
'That doesn't really matter to me.'
And that, Julia, is how I feel about you. "
Julia Claire Wallace is surprised, annoyed, and wishing she could write this down to decipher when no longer intoxicated.
After Party is attended.
The party is uncomfortable for Julia Claire Wallace due to the lack of her usual female friends as well as glimpses of angry conversations that seem to be revolved around her as well as the strange and bothersome conversation that had occurred earlier.
It becomes apparent that the movie The Muse has seen was The Darjeeling Limited so Julia Claire Wallace makes a mental note to see it the next day.
As people leave the party The Muse calls Julia's attention to a small easel in the corner. He collects various writing utensils from the vicinity. A broken pencil. A blue ballpoint pen. An orange and red crayon. The artists begin to create. They draw circles and lines. They draw with fervor. It is an intense experience for both participants, and they declare the outcome amazing. At this time a self proclaimed authority figure asks them to leave, so they decide to continue the art making at the apartment of The Muse.
The Muse pulls out a very large piece of cardboard. He collects pastels and charcoal and pencils and they begin creating a magnificent art piece. Sweeping lines and circles and tiny tracings. They create with a fever, barely speaking. They only touch once, when The Muse presses a black piece of charcoal into her fingers and grasps the green piece of charcoal from her hand in exchange. She doesn't look at him, she just draws.
He brings paint out. They are covered in paint and colorful dust.
One masterpiece and one semi-masterpiece. They stare at the paintings. She feels amazed at their genius.
It is freezing outside, it is raining. It is 6am.
"You can stay here if you take a shower."
The Muse's bed is white, a white cloud of comfortable. When one lays upon it, there is thirty more seconds of slowly floating downward into a soft resting place.
Julia Claire Wallace begrudgingly agrees to the deal, due to a certain hesitance concerning taking off her clothes.
She waits for The Muse to take his shower. She waits on a giant beanbag in his living room in front of a heater, staring off into space listening to a CD player skipping. It played the same 15 second line over and over for his 20 minute shower.
Finally, The Muse comes out with his towel and she asks in a small whiny voice if he has another towel, and if she should borrow clothes. She walks into the bathroom, and The Muse takes the towel from his own body and hands it to her, and she sees him naked. The bathroom door closes as much as it closes. The Muse's bathroom door does not have the capability of closing fully.
Julia Claire Wallace takes off her shirt. She is not wearing a bra today, and it feels wonderful to take off her shirt and stretch her naked body. She continues undressing and climbs into the warm shower smiling, because it everything feels so good.
At one point during the shower, as she is washing in between her ass cheeks, she looks out of the cloudy transparency of the shower curtain and she sees a figure. Julia Claire Wallace is frightened to death, but then realizes it is simply the shape of some clothes hanging on the door.
After the shower, she dries with The Muse's damp towel and puts on a few articles of clothing. She takes the clothing that she has decided not to put on once more to her purse in the dining room. She does not see The Muse. She returns to the bathroom area and notices a small, hastily written note on the floor. It reads,
Had to go. Enjoy your stay.
Julia Claire Wallace laughs. She looks outside into the freezing, 7am rain outside. She shakes her head in amazement.
She ponders going home, but one look at the fluffy cloud of bed makes her stay. As she lies down in the midst of the fluffy poofs of white, down comforter she makes sure to fully appreciate how much nicer it was that the entire bed is her own for the night.
She has a lazy morning in The Muse's apartment. She reads a couple of pages of the book she had just lent him. She watched an episode of MASH.
(But it should be noted: The abruptness of The Muse is a thorn in the side of her enjoyment, because she feels that it was a little mean spirited. )
She decides she is in the mood for a nice hot bath. As she lays in his bathtub, with the beautiful sound of November rain in the background, she reaches her hand down to pleasure herself. She leans her head back and fills his apartment with moans, with the happiness she was giving herself. She has multiple orgasms in The Muse's bath tub.
She roams around The Muse's apartment for awhile, stealing some of his paper to write out some of her annoyance concerning the conversation of the night before and the abrupt disappearance of her fellow artist. She looks through some of his things.
She takes an unsealed envelope of secrets that she once sent him in the mail and burns it over their painting, then places the remains into a box of wheat thins in his trash can, but she keeps a small portion of the envelope for herself. (This is the tragic demise of The Secrets Performance).
Before leaving she decides that she must leave a note. She leaves one next to the bed concerning the conversation, but this note is not worth mentioning.
Then she takes a piece of paper, and tears it down to the size of a plaque. She inscribes the plaque with the following:
This is the bathtub of the artist, known as The Muse. Although it is famous for another reason. It is rumoured that famous artist and autoeroticist Julia Claire Wallace once masturbated here on a cold and rainy afternoon in the November of 2007.
She placed the plaque in the bathtub, then she left the apartment, with a spring in her step.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Finally she wrote down two secrets in a beautiful card, with a canoe on the front.
One secret was embarrassing but silly.
One secret was disturbing and frightening.
She wrote an explanation letter to be sent along with the secrets, but she decided to keep that letter in her journal.
She mailed the envelope of secrets, on the outside she wrote a fluxus score for The Muse and a statement of dismay at the beauty of this art piece.
The envelope came to the apartment of The Muse and ended up on his kitchen counter.
Julia Claire Wallace inquired a few times about the secret letter, but The Muse said that it had not come.
When Julia Claire Wallace visited the apartment of The Muse she noticed that the envelope HAD come apparently unnoticed by The Muse.
Weeks later, The Muse mentions that he discovered the letter of secrets, and had not opened it.
A few times artist, Julia Claire Wallace had the opportunity to steal the letter back, but decided to leave her secrets on the kitchen counter of The Muse on account of the extreme discomfort it caused her.
Once, The Muse threatened to go home and read the envelope of secrets with a friend of his who was wearing extremely shiny, red high heels. His threat was made amidst an evil laugh, increasing the discomfort of the artist, Julia Claire Wallace.
She reflected on the discomfort, and decided that it was beautiful discomfort, and definitely one of the most glorious results of the art piece.
Later, she visited the apartment and spied the envelope still unopened on the counter.
The secret letter was partly explained to the Houston artist known as The Cheerleader. She advised that the letter be stolen promptly.
Finally, during "The Shower Story" a collaborative art piece that occurred in November, Julia Claire Wallace secretly stole the letter of secrets and burned through the middle of it as part of a collaborative painting in The Muse's living room.
The remains of the burned letter were placed inside of a Wheat Thins box in The Muse's garbage bag, except for a small portion of the envelope which currently resides in the armrest in Julia Claire Wallace's car.
The Muse is most likely still ignorant to the letter's demise, which is a significant aspect of this piece.
She became familiar with top country artists.
She became a huge fan of Brad Paisley.
She attended the Brad Paisley concert extremely excited to see Taylor Swift, but unfortunately she only caught the words of one of her favorite songs drifting over the hill as she ran up to Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion late.
She sings along loudly to this country radio in her car.
She often brings up at parties and bars how shocked she is at the political implications made by songs such as "Courtesy of the Red White and Blue."
She smiles and feels happy about life whenever she hears the song "Great Day to Be Alive."
She strikes up conversations with people with whom she might not have ever had anything else in common with.
She two stepped to now familiar songs at Wild Wild West.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
They showed up to class and were separated into three specifically chosen groups. One group went with local artist and chosen driver, Aisen Chacin. One group joined Julia Claire Wallace, and the other group joined Nancy Douthey. These last two groups were secretly recorded. All three cars received a disposable camera to document the night.
They eventually found the HOV lane headed South, Julia in the lead. They drove and drove until they finally arrived at the ocean. They parked on the seawall next to a statue commemorating the flood of 1900.
They gathered on a raised stage like area and performed.
The first performance was lead by Elia Arce. She split the group in two and placed them on either side of the stage facing her. She lead the groups in a choir-esque yelling match in which she took turns feeding each group lines that she had gathered from advertisements to yell at the other group.
The second performance was lead by Michael Brims who lead the group in a vocal exercise using the Ohm sound.
The third performance consisted of everyone performing the score that they were instructed to bring which incorporated the thing that they do best. They all performed these scores simultaneously:
Nick Teel did a fancy finger trick
Julia Claire Wallace documented her thought process using a digital recorder
Patrick O'brien Doyle played guitar
Nancy Douthey wrote a to do list
Tyson Urich acted like a bum (?)
Shawna Florida ran
Elia Arce laughed
Andrea Grover collected information and redistributed it
Sebastian Forray drew the back of people's heads
John Sanchez did hair
Then everyone began switching off, everyone tried laughing, a few people recorded their thought processes, wrote to do lists, playing guitar, drawing the backs of people's heads etc.
After that performance was done. The group recreated another 60's photo on the seawall in the dark. John Sanchez stood on a chair with his arms raised conducting the sea, and the rest of the class sat around him.
Then they all went home in the cars of their choice.
A significant aspect of this piece is that it was created to put the ideas of the class into motion. Students had suggested going to Galveston in a previous class to recreate the photo brought in by Sebastian Forray. Patrick O'brien Doyle had been contemplating a mutiny long before the hijack occurred. Aisen Chacin had suggested doing a fluxus score where everyone did what they do best. Nancy Douthey and Julia Claire Wallace wanted to see their classmates art realized. So they made it happen.
I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding, it was completely unintentional. If there is anything at all anyone wants credit for (or doesn't want credit for), please let me know, because one of the purposes of this blog is to give you credit for your art, I honestly want people to be able to look up your name on google and see the things you have been involved in. So if you dont want your name on here, or if you do want your name on here, let me know. I really am trying to give everyone as much credit as possible. Believe it or not: I honestly don't want your credit.