Catie. Art Student. 21. Madison.

Work Tumblr
 

  1. likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    likeafieldmouse:

    Francis Alys - Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing (1997)

    (via cutns)

  2. c86:

Dori Atlantis - Cunt Cheerleaders, 1971
L-R: Cay Lang, Vanalyne Green, Dori Atlantis and Sue Boud
Students of the Feminist Art Program, Fresno State College (now California State University, Fresno), 1970-71

    c86:

    Dori Atlantis - Cunt Cheerleaders, 1971

    L-R: Cay Lang, Vanalyne Green, Dori Atlantis and Sue Boud

    Students of the Feminist Art Program, Fresno State College (now California State University, Fresno), 1970-71

    (via girlsandguns)

  3. photau:

by Marcel Castenmiller

    photau:

by Marcel Castenmiller

    photau:

by Marcel Castenmiller

    photau:

by Marcel Castenmiller

    photau:

    by Marcel Castenmiller

    (Source: , via cutns)

  4. I have gotten one question repeatedly from young men. These are guys who liked the book, but they are honestly confused. They ask me why Melinda was so upset about being raped.
    The first dozen times I heard this, I was horrified. But I heard it over and over again. I realized that many young men are not being taught the impact that sexual assault has on a woman. They are inundated by sexual imagery in the media, and often come to the (incorrect) conclusion that having sex is not a big deal. This, no doubt, is why the number of sexual assaults is so high.

    Laurie Halse Anderson, author of Speak, on the question “Have any readers ever asked questions that shocked you?”

    Read that again. Read it again, and again, and again. Over and over guys have asked her why Melinda was so upset about being raped. This is a girl who went to a party with friends. She was thirteen. She had a drink, because everyone else was. And a senior held her down and raped her while she was too drunk to get away.

    And guys don’t understand why she was upset.

    Read that again and then come back and tell me again why I should just shut up and take a joke when a comedian blows off rape as a big deal, or women’s bodies are casually treated as commodities in media. Remind me why I shouldn’t care about the very real harm that society’s treatment of women and sexual assault does.

    (via nosuchthingasfiction)

    (via drpepper10)

  5. 
Rug #69

    Rug #69

    (Source: ollio, via skeetshoot)

  6. wespeakproject:


        I hate who I turn into when my mental health is at its worst. The compassion that’s usually at the core of who I am as a person fades to apathy. I am irritable. I’m boring. I’m unsure. I’m ugly. I’m vain, I’m overly critical, I’m unreliable. And I hate admitting that I see those things in myself more and more clearly as I grow older. Some days, I don’t like looking at myself in a mirror because I’m insecure, like so many other women, about how I look. But other days, so many days, it’s because I see those ugly qualities in myself and I can’t stand looking at the girl who has mountains of unanswered e-mails, who is tired all the time, whose attention lingers in and out of conversations with people she deeply cares about. I don’t want to see her, and I don’t want anyone else to see me as I see myself.



        Accomplishments give me a kind of high that can only come with the reassurance that no, I’m not a failure. Feeling capable and interesting and worthwhile come with their own set of fears, though; enough praise or attention, and I think to myself that it’s only a matter of time until I let someone (or everyone) down. I bounce back and forth between a frantic worry that I’m not doing enough, I’m not talented enough, I have to work harder, and a emptying apathy that leaves me unable to get a single thing done. It’s a struggle not to define my self-worth with my productivity and usefulness as a person.



        This maddening combination of indifference punctuated by panic not only makes it incredibly difficult for me to function some days, but also gives me another thing for which to berate myself. I blame myself, judge myself for those days. I wonder how on earth I will be able to graduate from college and start a career and start a life and pay my bills and feed myself. I look at my friends and I see strong, capable adults who are invaluable to the people in their lives. I see talented, driven people who are going places. I want to go places, too. People who know me expect it of me. Where am I going to go like this? The mere idea of the future as a foggy, unsure “someday” drives my heart rate up. I want to have a future, but when I try to imagine it, I can’t. I feel so anxious that I want to break out of my own brain.



        Despite all that I still manage to accomplish and the support I have from so many, I miss being able to look at myself and see a capable person because I just don’t feel that I am anymore. And I hate it. I don’t want anyone to see me that way, because somewhere I know that the capable, passionate, patient person I want to be is in here. And I’m tired of acting like none of this is going on because each time I do, I feel like she gets buried deeper. I want to be taken seriously and loved without having to pretend like I’m fine. I’m not always fine.



        Alicia, age 21

    wespeakproject:

            I hate who I turn into when my mental health is at its worst. The compassion that’s usually at the core of who I am as a person fades to apathy. I am irritable. I’m boring. I’m unsure. I’m ugly. I’m vain, I’m overly critical, I’m unreliable. And I hate admitting that I see those things in myself more and more clearly as I grow older. Some days, I don’t like looking at myself in a mirror because I’m insecure, like so many other women, about how I look. But other days, so many days, it’s because I see those ugly qualities in myself and I can’t stand looking at the girl who has mountains of unanswered e-mails, who is tired all the time, whose attention lingers in and out of conversations with people she deeply cares about. I don’t want to see her, and I don’t want anyone else to see me as I see myself.
            Accomplishments give me a kind of high that can only come with the reassurance that no, I’m not a failure. Feeling capable and interesting and worthwhile come with their own set of fears, though; enough praise or attention, and I think to myself that it’s only a matter of time until I let someone (or everyone) down. I bounce back and forth between a frantic worry that I’m not doing enough, I’m not talented enough, I have to work harder, and a emptying apathy that leaves me unable to get a single thing done. It’s a struggle not to define my self-worth with my productivity and usefulness as a person.
            This maddening combination of indifference punctuated by panic not only makes it incredibly difficult for me to function some days, but also gives me another thing for which to berate myself. I blame myself, judge myself for those days. I wonder how on earth I will be able to graduate from college and start a career and start a life and pay my bills and feed myself. I look at my friends and I see strong, capable adults who are invaluable to the people in their lives. I see talented, driven people who are going places. I want to go places, too. People who know me expect it of me. Where am I going to go like this? The mere idea of the future as a foggy, unsure “someday” drives my heart rate up. I want to have a future, but when I try to imagine it, I can’t. I feel so anxious that I want to break out of my own brain.
            Despite all that I still manage to accomplish and the support I have from so many, I miss being able to look at myself and see a capable person because I just don’t feel that I am anymore. And I hate it. I don’t want anyone to see me that way, because somewhere I know that the capable, passionate, patient person I want to be is in here. And I’m tired of acting like none of this is going on because each time I do, I feel like she gets buried deeper. I want to be taken seriously and loved without having to pretend like I’m fine. I’m not always fine.
            Alicia, age 21

    (via butnotinlove)

  7. qoax:

Untitled

    qoax:

    Untitled

    (via dad--jeans)

  8. White Privilege is being able to fight racism one day, then ignore it the next.

    Macy Sto. Domingo (via makingacake)

    (via thepulpzine)

  9. widdlefox:

I want my nipples pierced again :(

    widdlefox:

    I want my nipples pierced again :(

    (Source: gfandexgfbdsmgallery, via cutns)

  10. swamped:

Anna MorosiniThe Deep Surface

    swamped:

    Anna Morosini
    The Deep Surface

    (via flourishtodecay)

  11. (Source: letusclingtogether, via cutns)

  12. (Source: plantgay, via dad--jeans)

  13. i’m trying to figure out what it means to be “the kind of person” or “the kind of artist” who can make video and performance pieces and thinks in that way and wants to put themselves out there in that way because

    a lot of my artist/maker friends, my closest friends, talk about this kind of work like it’s impossibly terrifying but

    i’ll make a video of myself shaving completely naked because i haven’t seen enough of that in my lifetime and i hope other people find it refreshing

    and i’m running on very little sleep, drinking coffee typing things out as they feel to me so this might not make a lot of sense but my performance professor told me he had a student talk about that piece, that shaving piece the terrifying piece in really glowing, art historical terms before he connected the dots that it was my piece

    and like, that’s all i ever wanted

  14. tvpartyorchestra:

Don Bronstein.

    tvpartyorchestra:

    Don Bronstein.

    (via suspendreality)

  15. mymodernmet:

Scientifically accurate and finely detailed botanical renderings of plants, flowers and vegetables created by expert textile and knitting artists.
See more on My Modern Met.

    Ruth Marshall, Lotus, 2013. Knitted, crocheted, and embroidered yarn, wire, fabric stiffener, fiber, and pins.

    mymodernmet:

Scientifically accurate and finely detailed botanical renderings of plants, flowers and vegetables created by expert textile and knitting artists.
See more on My Modern Met.

    Tatyana Yanishevsky, Tiger Lily, 2011. Knitted yarn and steel

    mymodernmet:

Scientifically accurate and finely detailed botanical renderings of plants, flowers and vegetables created by expert textile and knitting artists.
See more on My Modern Met.

    Tatyana Yanishevsky, Love at First Sight, 2012. Knitted yarn and resin.

    mymodernmet:

    Scientifically accurate and finely detailed botanical renderings of plants, flowers and vegetables created by expert textile and knitting artists.

    See more on My Modern Met.

    (via flourishtodecay)