I've got a mild fascination

Why hello there. Let me just start off this blog post by saying, I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a long time. I tend to do this thing where I start many projects, and I’m always very excited about them at first.  Then, in time, I lose interest. Well, not so much lose interest and lose the drive to finish the project. It’s an issue, especially when it comes to real-world things like writing papers, or unpacking.  And it’s disconcerting, because I often find myself with a serious passion about something, and then I never follow up.  Trust me, I’m working on it.

In any case, I’ve been thinking a lot about these little things that make up me lately.  1) I sometimes struggle to finish things without a looming deadline. 2) When faced with nothing to keep me busy, I am not productive. And 3) I am a collector.

When I was younger I collected candy wrappers for a time, keeping a shoebox of them in my closet. I collected movie tickets. And I continue to collect postcards – there is something magical about getting a message from the other side of the world.  There are even things I didn’t set out to collect, but that I seem to nonetheless.  I can’t help it; I am a collector.

Just some of the many polaroids I've taken.

Is this habit I can’t shake an instinct? I have always felt sort of overcome by the feeling of want when it comes to random things.  I can’t explain it, but I can’t throw away that ticket stub.  I need you to send me a postcard; I’ve never gotten one from (fill in the blank) before.  Now, I am aware of this overpowering instinct, and I can recognize when it’s silly.   That shoebox of candy wrappers is long gone. But still, I find myself wondering where I cultivated this love of things.  The more I look at it and back at myself, the more I see this American ideal of more, more, more. The notion that one is never enough.

As I’ve grown older, this collector in me seeks to be satisfied in new ways.  My laptop says it’s running low of free space because of the amount of songs in my library, and the number of pictures I have saved.  This isn’t the first time this has happened, in high school I was forced to buy an external hard drive in order to put off going through my music and getting rid of what I don’t listen to. “What if I want to listen to it eventually?” I would ask myself.

I habitually long for a simpler existence. An ideal that is at odds with my collector-self.  Rather than give up, this collector-me says to the more rational me “You can find a place for these postcards,” or “What if you need to look up a magazine article from 2007, where will you be if you throw away these old issues of Rolling Stone then?” As silly as it sounds, my mind sometimes rationalizes away these worries that sneak up – that I’m saving too many things I never use, or don’t really need. And I know that if I don’t deal with this instinct soon it will start to feel much more overwhelming as I sort through the collections in my life. With real life leering at me from around the corner, I feel compelled to sort through these collections, and the organized chaos that is part of my life.  I know that I’ll feel better and more calm when I do, but it’s the getting there part that is difficult.

What I would call a professional collection: Philadelphia's Magic Gardens showcases artist Isaiah Zagar's own collection - of junk, and recyclable materials.

I’m currently decorating my new room at school, and the box of postcards and stacks of polaroids I brought with me will soon find a place on my wall.  It really isn’t about giving up the collector habit in me, but learning to control and reason with the impulse. And isn’t that more healthy than just squashing this collector instinct? Moderation is a nice balance to strike between simplicity and chaos.

Until next time,

Molly

P.S. Check out "Collector" by Here We Go Magic - a great song that gave me some inspiration for this post.

stop(-motion), in the name of love.

Hello everyone!

It is Sunday, April 4th, 2010.  That means that it is Easter. That also means that it is the day before my 21st birthday! I am enjoying my last day at home in Massachusetts right now before heading back bright and early to school, with luggage, friends, and maybe some champagne in tow.

So far this break I have been doing lots of things besides work... I made some birds nests (the perfect spring dessert - chow mein noodles and chopped peanuts covered in melted butterscotch chips) and went for a run, and I also went birthday shopping with my parents and picked up some nice things, including a printer/scanner/copier (nerdy? yes, but needed to scan my polaroids that have been stacking up!) and some spring clothes like my favorite new skirt and a dress for my upcoming formal. The new skirt was even part of my easter outfit, which I will show you all soon! (part of my new plan to try some more outfit and fashion posts).

All of this has been fantastic, but my favorite find of Easter break is stop-motion.  I was watching tv the other day and remembered how adorable the amazon kindle commercial was:

I looked it up on youtube to watch it again, and in poking around I stumbled across the cutest short film ever.  The director is named Angela Kohler, who made both versions of the kindle commercial, as well as "Lost Things," another stop-motion video featuring Alison Sudol of A Fine Frenzy (as well as music by the band).  The video is absolutely adorable, it has a kind of Alice in Wonderland theme as Alison falls through a hole in the floor into a magical little world of lost things...

Every frame is wonderful and gorgeous! They each look like a shot for a magazine spread, which makes sense since in exploring a bit on her website, I found fashion & entertainment portfolios as well as so many other great things.  The portfolios are glamorous and beautiful, and another favorite of mine was the "notebook" section which features notebook art of Kohler.  I'm a sucker for anything polaroid...

"in the presence of eternity, the mountains are as tranquil as the clouds"

Wishing you all some tranquility, love & happiness this Easter - and this spring!

xo Molly

all photo credit: angela kohler

automatic nostalgia.

Hello everyone! I'm sorry that it's been so long since I've had a chance to write.  I'm sure you were all on the edge of your seats anxiously awaiting an entry about scarves or boots or some other accessory in detail with collages, however I write today with another topic in mind.

Last night I went to this party and took absolutely no digital photos. It was strange, because that's very unlike me.  I am the one who is attached to my camera, the one making everyone take forced group shots before we leave for an event, the one uploading pictures the next day to my computer and shortly after that to facebook.  That's just always been me, and people come to expect it.

A problem: my camera is dying.  After dropping it over a year ago (almost fatally) it has steadily been decreasing in reliability.  Although it usually still works, the pictures are not as good quality as they used to be, and the battery life is long gone - even with two, fully charged batteries, my camera decides to take several pictures then courteously remind me to "change battery pack" if I would like to continue to use it.  So yesterday when I was getting ready to go out, I requested that my friend Lauren bring her camera since I wasn't bringing mine.  She responded to me via text "WHY NOT" and I was suddenly unnecessarily angry that my camera decided to quit on me.  I do have other cameras, that's not the issue.  The issue is, none of them are so tiny and trusty, and ready to party.  And none of them offer to take instant frames of ironic nostalgia that the subjects of these photos cluster around and "ooh" and "ahh" at together, fondly remembering what it was like 30 seconds ago.

some instant nostalgia on new years eve.

I've taken to using these other cameras quite often since my original digital camera has deteriorated.  I have upgraded to a 35mm digital camera (not ideal for full on dance parties) and I also have a polaroid camera, two lomographic cameras (the action sampler takes 4 shots in one second and puts them all on one frame when developed, while the fisheye just provides an effect I enjoy) and a disposable camera lying around somewhere.  Out of the non-digital cameras, I use my polaroid most often.  In fact, I pulled out my polaroid camera before we left for the party and snapped the one and only picture of the evening.   And the events of last night made me consider something.  Digital photography provides that automatic nostalgia I mentioned, but so do polaroids.  Part of the reason I love them is for the aesthetic value that they bring - that moment captured onto one, neat little picture framed in white with room for a caption if necessary - but they also provide instant nostalgia.  We watch them develop before our eyes and still "ooh" and "ahh" at the memory we just made.

summer '09 in tolo, greece

It's an odd feeling, nostalgia at something that has just happened.  I've thought about it before, and it makes me a bit uncomfortable.  It makes me wonder why we feel that it's so necessary to be nostalgic.  I often look back at pictures and revisit those memories, but there is something to say about the fact that we can do that immediately.  Frustratingly enough, it makes me live in the moment even less and doesn't really provide a lasting memory when the memory is the act of taking the picture itself.

My new year's resolution, or one of them anyway, is to live more in the moment.  I am trying to move past the urge to partake in the automatic nostalgia of photographing everything and every event I attend.  sitting back and looking with our eyes instead of through a lens allows for a refreshing perspective and a little dose of reality my life has been missing.  I still love the aesthetic value of a photograph - whether that be the crisp clarity my 35mm provides, the distorted edges of the fisheye image, or the one and only slice of polaroid magic - but I have also realized that it can be much more fulfilling to put down the camera, back away from the lens, and return to the experience.

ocean city, nj

What have you done recently that has been an experience?  I have some suggestions.  And there are no cameras allowed:

• Try a new restaurant! In Philadelphia right now, restaurant week is happening.  All next week there are discounts and deals, and if you go with the right people you are guaranteed good conversation, a great meal, and a new memory.  Two restaurants I've been eyeing up are Estia and The Melting Pot.
• Walk around magic garden! If you're unfamiliar, this outdoor work of art on South Street is amazing and unforgettable.  I admit, I've taken lots of pictures while exploring this mosaic masterpiece, but try to just explore and take it all in.  (Although it's a bit cold, the weather forecast looks promising for Monday!)
• Do a little wardrobe update.  I know I'm guilty of indulging my shopaholic tendencies by buying needlessly at times, but last weekend I decided that instead of getting a new coat I would pick out some buttons to spice up my old one instead.  I bought metal buttons with lions heads carved onto them, and I can't wait to replace all of the buttons on my coat!  Perhaps a weekend project.

So try something new.  And tell me about it!  I hope you make a memory.
Molly