theme #2: lonely

everybody knows what it feels like to be lonely.

you can be lonely without being alone,

and you can be alone without being lonely.

for the month of december,
we are going to create artwork
that reflects the theme “lonely.”

(theme selected by andrew burton)

- tuan quoc le -

artist profile: midwestern mollie

hello!

it is an honor to be here.

i’ve been contemplating the attractive idea of being part of an artistic community for some time, beyond the confines of the university walls so the Recollective is, so to speak, an answer to my (non-religious) prayers.

i am, as my mother often says “planting my roots” in the Chicagoland area, at least till my next calling for wanderlust arrives at my doorstep. i was born and raised in this midwestern gem of a city and learned to embrace it with few dollars in my pocket and a Syracuse-bred defiance against the cold.

i grew up hovering over my father, mixing oils with his index fingers on floor clothes made out of remnant pieces of canvas. i admired his precision and yearned for his craftiness. it took one too many befuddled science courses and the pragmatism of math class for me to realize that my mindless doodles held more importance for me than figuring out a hypotenuse of a triangle or decoding the formula for energy. and with that my artful pursuits began…

it has taken a countless amount of messy-cloth-stained-dabbles for me to figure out what sort of artwork i enjoy creating, but i am at the point where i am simply just enjoying the process. it is funny that i became a part of a collective such as this in the month of november – the month to focus on past memories. for most of my senior year in painting, i set aside all art materials inappropriate for those beyond the age of six and resorted to cheaply made RoseArt pencils and cracked watercolors from the CVS school supply aisle. i studied the ways of essembalage and sorted through photos from a plastic bin in my basement. And with that did my very best to stay in the mindset of naïveté, but realized that, that place of no inhibition was hardly attainable once you reached the age where politics,ponzi schemes and family dysfunctions were in the forefront of your mind. it is always the smells, the tastes and the visual reminders that bring us back only to make us realize that you must move forward..

i am looking forward to see what those around me contribute as the months go on.

cheers!

-MLR (the abridged version)-
-or Mollie Levy-Roseroot-

childhood memories: tuan quoc le

eventually the records we create will be the only memory of what we once were.

- tuan quoc le -

childhood memories: abuelo

san juan, puerto rico (2003)

i took this photo on thanksgiving day in ‘03, when i was in junior year of high school back in puerto rico. my family opted out of the usual holiday gathering at someone’s house and we all went to a restaurant instead. i wanted to catch my grandfather in a natural or surprising way, but when he saw me focusing my lens on him, he turned and gave me this very commanding, authoritative look – which is the opposite of what he was. when I was little, i would constantly stay over at his house (he lived literally next door to me), and he would hoist me up with his feet and play “airplane” together. despite being around seventy-three years old at the time, he’d effortlessly lift my 5-6 year old self up in the air with true vigor, deeming me el hombre araña (the spider-man) as i hovered over him, laughing. my grandfather had a wonderful smile and sense of humor, and i’ll always look back fondly on all the kooky things he did – from being overtly friendly with totally random strangers to being an occasional practical joker – but this photo encapsulates to me the resilience and strength he had in his final years. despite his serious demeanor in the photo, it’s still a reminder of the funny, silly man that he was and the positive impact he had on my childhood.

- jose f. rodriguez -

quote: ira glass

“you have to make yourself create every day, every week.”

- ira glass -

artist profile: josé f. rodríguez

hola!

my name is josé, and i am a puerto rican.

i’m also 24 years old and a proud film snob.

i am currently living in astoria ny and doing freelance work for film production companies, yet also trying to reach that next step up in my life/career. i spend my free time being passionate about films, photography and american realist art. i’m what you’d call a “people person,” so i’m definitely passionate about that, too – great people with a great sense of humor. i’m excited about contributing to “the recollective,” and I hope you enjoy what i post as much as i will enjoy all your work.

childhood memories: remember, remember…

when i was two, i decided to try to follow my mom down the basement steps. i wasn’t exactly the most graceful toddler (the parentals plugged me in dance class for that shortly after this incident, ironically) and proceeded to tumble head over feet down the stairs, which have no sides and lead to a lovely concrete floor. i remember the world spinning, and feeling my body fit exactly into the right angles of the steps without any pain whatsoever before landing smack dab on my bottom. my mom, the easily flustered french maternity goddess that she is, came rushing around the corner, fearing for the worst. my father was nowhere to be seen – probably around the corner working on some carpentry project. i will always remember being so confused as to why everyone was making such a fuss – i was fine, without a single scratch or bruise. but i still get a rise out of reminding my mother of the fact that the first memory i have is of a time when she let her only daughter topple down open stairs…

- jes zurell -

like what you see? contribute!

the recollective is looking for more contributors!

if you’d like to get involved,
leave a comment or
send an email to tuanquocle@gmail.com
with a little info about yourself and your work.

hope to hear from you!

- tuan quoc le -

artist profile: christopher woodside

born in the frozen tundra of northern russia, christopher’s parents were eaten by polar bears when he was only two years of age. taken in by a group of inuits, christopher was raised learning 900 different ways to say snow and how to find fish in the coldest of lakes. after reaching the age of 15, christopher made his way across the world, staying with tibetan monks and traveling gypsies. after getting stuck in france for an extended period of time, christopher took a boat to the godless west where he studied graphic design for four years. after obtaining a degree he promptly relegated himself to a personal hell in eastern tennessee where he remains to this day waiting for sweet sweet death to release him.

childhood memories: nostalgia

by christopher woodside

a reflection on childhood memories and the distortion of nostalgia’s role in them.