another photo recreation...

Love this Marc Jacobs ad with Elle Fanning! I just happen to have the same vintage mirror and wallpaper...

The Edie Sedgwick/Andy Warhol Experiment

Edith Minturn "Edie" Sedgwick (April 20, 1943 – November 16, 1971) was an American actress, socialite, fashion model and heiress. She is best known for being one of Andy Warhol's superstars. Sedgwick became known as "The Girl of the Year" in 1965 after starring in several of Warhol's short films in the 1960s.  She was dubbed an "It Girl", while Vogue magazine also named her a "Youthquaker".*

I have always been fascinated by Edie Sedgwick, and after a friend noted a similarity in appearance between Edie and me, I decided it would be fun to recreate some of Andy Warhol's most famous portraits of Edie. I worked with the talented up-and-coming photographer Elizabeth Gowan**, and below are the original photos and our re-interpretations.

 

 

*thanks to Wikipedia
**http://www.facebook.com/ElizabethGowanPhotography

This kid's energy and presence is explosive! Guess who I'm channelling next time I go on stage?

Speaking of Nicki Minaj - Sophia Grace Brownlee is my new idol

Happy Halloween (since tomorrow is Thanksgiving)!

                                         Now this is art in real life.                                            

From Russia with Love

The woman my mother works for is Russian, and gave my mother some candy that had been brought to her from Moscow. In the Russian woman's words, "This is the best chocolate in the world." Well it's not; but it was good.

However, the chocolate was special to the Russian woman because it was from home; the chocolate was special to my mom because the woman said it was the best ever, and well it came from Russia; the chocolate was special to me because my mom knows I really like chocolate and wanted to share her special chocolate with me, the wrapper was pretty cool, and well it came from Russia.

The "came from Russia" bit is the most fascinating to me.  It fascinates me that I am so fascinated by Russia, that most Americans are fascinated by Russia. Russian is...well, sexy. Russian spies, Russian supermodels, Russian Brides, all of Bond's arch enemies are Russian;Russian cab drivers are my favorite. Bond is British so maybe the British are fascinated by Russia too, and after everything that happened in World War II, I would think most of Western Europe would have the same fascination, but wait, considering Moscow changed the political face of the Eastern world, I think we just have to simplify and say the entire world finds Russia sexy. Ok, this was supposed to be a two sentence blog, but now I that I've started rambling, I really want to keep going. lol

I think the reason for our fascination lies in the Jungian concept of an Archnemesis. The Urban Dictionary's definition of archnemesis is my fav: "Friends from a long time ago that have more or less equivalent powers, but also have oposing ideologies. They are therefore always fighting with each other." My definition: soulmates gone bad. Allies during World War II, The United States and Russia emerged as the two superpowers after the war, because they were the only nations able to stop Hitler. Oddly enough when the relationship went sour during the Cold War, the rest of the world seemed to side with one superpower or the other, and just like in a bad breakup, the two superpowers kept silently competing. America that prides itself on being independent and tough found its counterpart in Russia that has only survived its turbulent history and ferocious terrain through an independence and resilience that must have been carved out genetically through text-book survival of the fittest. Mystery solved; everyone is fascinated by archnemeses: Obi Wan and Darth Vader, Professor X and Magneto, Eminem and Kim. But the powerful connection that creates archnemeses, and the dynamics of such a relationship is still a mystery. So Russia is fascinating because...it mysteriously fascinates us. Like I said Russia is...well, sexy; )

The Next Thing:"This could be heavy": Metaphysical Nonsense

Doing the next thing is probably the last thing on my mind when faced with a crisis. When I hit a brick wall, such as an overdrawn bank account, fight or flight (jump on a plane or kill your ex) syndrome, unemployment or usually all of the above, all I can think of is ultimatums; I will have $100,000 by tomorrow or I will shoot myself in the head. No, actually I would slit my wrists because that would obviously be much more dramatic. But no really, when I hit a low, apparently I would much rather throw myself into a life of prostitution and drug running than simply taking the next serving job, and well, just doing the next thing. Perhaps Michael Bay and I have much more in common than I thought... sex, explosions and intervention from outer space.

Inevitably though, after screaming threats at the universe in my car, lying in the middle of the room staring at the ceiling searching my self destructive mind for a hair brain solution to my current "problem" and then spending the next few hours googling "what to do next?", I somehow realize I just have to do the next thing. I would still rather run into the woods and build a fire, and if I could find a woods, I just might do that very thing, but the soft beauty of "the next thing" like a soft blush in the morning sky slowly creeps up on my psyche. So I make a to-do list, things that must be done. Interestingly, they are all creative; not an item on the list is destructive, and I realize I am not a captive, but "indeed there will be time." "There will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; time for all the works and days of hands...time yet for a hundred indecisions And for a hundred visions and revisions... And indeed there will be time To wonder, 'Do I dare?' and 'Do I dare?' time to turn back and descend the stair."

Yes, there will be time to find the art in the pain. The phoenix rises not out of the sky, but out of the burning embers of "the next thing." So, although there may be red paint thrown across the room when I wake, I pick up my pen and write.

All quotes from T.S Eliot's poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" except of course the title quote, which is Back To the Future, duh.