Doodles

Good morning! Gee, I'm always late for everything. Including posts.

Bonjour, my friends!

Umm so how about that financial crisis?

In honor of a year since my memorable excursion to Paris, I wrote a graphic novella about it-- yeahhh, it was definitely a final for a class. And yeahhh, I scored an A on it. You can download it here, on scribd.



PS: personal thanks to Ben Katchor, my superwickedawesome professor, and Kim Deitch, special guest professor with nothing but the most brutal honesty and pure genius.

PSS: But more importantly, thanks to everyone who made the trip THAT much more special... Elena, Nicole, Suzy K., Mike, and hell, even Antonio. Paris will never be the same without you. And nor will that girl without her scooter. <3

A family portrait

The New School Debate Team: (clockwise, from left) Skanda, Nick, Jim, Tamar, Hong-Mei, Josh, Myself, and Rhiannon.

My darling debaters. One of the myriad reasons I haven't posted anything in months. (That and the recession/more work hours-- AHHHH!)

I can't wait to scan in all these backdated posts. Be on the lookout this week, kids.

Happy V-Day!

[Master] Debaters

Don't even get me started.




*To the boys of the New School-Columbia Debate Team: you all are totally not talking sausages.
At least not to me. <3

By the way-- if you have a little bit of extra change in your PayPal account, I would love you forever if you could help us get to CEDA Nationals-- believe me, our team is bad-ass and deserves to be there. We just need some fundage. http://nycpolicydebate.chipin.com

Thanks, y'all.

Flow chart

In debate, we do what they call a "flow chart."
You basically have to outline key arguments throughout the entire round.
A=the Affirmative side, n=Negative side.
In class: affirmative supports the removal of US cotton subsidies. And the negative... does not.

It started getting to the point where I've heard the argument so many times this season, caricatures were absolutely necessary. I should do every flow chart like this:

Tally-ho!

During winter break, I spent a night in Tallahassee (aka Seminole Country).
I feel so much closer to everyone as result.

Drawing in the Dark #1

I want to start doodling in the dark/dimly lit spaces
and post my results.



After like, a zillion+ hours spent doing blind contour in art school, you think I would have had enough.

2009

Was welcomed with quite a bang. As well as a drunken redneck in David's backyard on New Year's Eve.

A brief first draft of the account, via my travel-sized moleskine:



Jason Hott: born 1979 in Pennsylvania. Lives in the boonies of J-Ville. His last name is actually spelled "Hott;" it said so on the birth certificate he happened to have handy in his back pocket.




I have to draw more about Jacksonville. It was quite a priceless visit.

seesuzysketch: a year later

Epic fail, right?

WRONG. It may seem like I've either 

a) fallen off the face of the earth,

b) decided to check into a mental institution due to school-related stress (this is highly plausible)

or c) have gone through three cheap scanners and a laptop in a year, had my sketchbook locked in a display case at Parsons, and have been really insanely busy and am now sitting in my bedroom in Jacksonville without the technology to post my drawings. (Therefore I resorted to MS Paint.)

WHEW! Well you guess which one. Anyway,

Believe me, a lot has happened these past few months. I've decided to leave Parsons next semester (due to the fact that they were always after my money-- and soul), and continue to work on my literary skills at Eugene Lang College (the New School's hippie stepchild). I decided I'll keep debating. I also decided to start doing more activist work, within my school and especially within V-Day festivities. I've been drawing some, but really it's a matter of deciding how to divide what little free time I've had; and it often comes out favoring sleep over anything productive.

SO. Believe me, it hasn't been an easy year. Fun, but totally not easy. I'll try and make some kind of glorious, backdated barrage of entries describing it. At least, once my friends at home go back to school and get too busy to hang out with me on my precious vacation time :)

I STILL LOVE YOU, FANS (aka my jaded facebook friends)

Thanks for keeping up with my ups, downs, and continuous lines. 

Best wishes in 2009!

Love,

Suzy X

So it's been a month.

You don't have to tell me that I suck at updating this
I already know. Here's what you missed from October.





In case you're wondering, I refuse to post anything about the election.
But I may post something about the aftermath. Maybe.

<3 Suzy

When I say worst Saturday ever,

I really mean 

It can be said that stress is the stepmother of invention. And after sorting all the dorm's mail for 5 hours straight this weekend, I was inventing quite a bit. 

Back to school

Means back to New York. 

Which also means back to really random field trips, like this boat tour of Manhattan.

I guess 75 % of the Parsons hipsters are probably rooting for Ninjas. Pirates = last season?

Let's sum it up.

Don't get me wrong. I liked Paris, and I like Parsons

But the people were not for me.

I <3 NY. Always, and forever.

A first stab

...At being an actual Resident Advisor-- or maybe Assistant? Whatever,
A first stab at being an R.A. Overseas, nevertheless.

(starring Elena, Nicole, Mike and Antonio. BFFLz!)



I'd have to say though, it went better than I expected.

Suzy X. does fine art.

So, I HAVE been drawing comics.

There is just no available scanner-- which means a whole lotta backdated entries when I get back home! Jeez, will I be working overtime. (As if I haven't already.)

For now, I have a plethra of figure studies. I have been moderating an after-school open drawing class at Parsons Paris with a live model, Stephanie, who's pretty awesome. Today was our last figure study-- wahh-wahh-wahhp. It was fun while it lasted. But here are some of the results... I mean, OF COURSE I draw other stuff than myself in cartoon form!

(WARNING. NUDENESS IN FULL EFFECT.)

Okay, so I totally offended photobucket in putting up full nude drawings. You know, because the human anatomy is THAT inappropriate... *rolls eyes*

I could totally go off on a rant about art and the human form but it doesn't change the fact that some of my figure drawings were removed from my photobucket. :-/

Paris, in real time.

A postcard to my dearest Paul Wall, people's champ (see January entries)



I really regret not bringing my scanner overseas. I certainly have been drawing, but with demands at my job lately I don't even know when I'll get a chance to really sit down and put the comics up... Nevertheless, here's a video I took in the Metro, on the way to Parsons Paris this morning.

There was definitely a man behind me playing accordion, but had I taken a good shot of him he might have charged me some Euros. Gooooorrrr-ges, right?

ALSO

A shoutout to my girl Elena, who's giving a daily account of our travels in Paris on her blogspot-- http://elenagsimon.blogspot.com/. Footage of us RAs at work, and more footage of the beautiful scenery that is the Ile-de-France. Czech it ouuuuut!

Wednesday-- woo!

General Mung-Tongue's Escape From Tilapia Island is basically made up of a couple of cool guys known as Paul and Lane-- weaving magical tales through the fantastic medium known as techno music.

It was only fitting that we showed up dressed as Jazzercise Instructors.



I'm going to miss Jacksonville when it's time to leave again.

Whenever I go home for vacation,

I just want to write some kind of housewives' manifesto.

We decided

That a babysitting gig should always be a team effort.
After all, I need the money, now that jobs are scarce back home

And hey-- it's an honest living. Especially when you have a soundtrack to back you up.

The Bitter End.

And everyone on either side of the Iron Curtain lived happily ever after.

/communism

...But not as much as communism loves kids.

I think I made Mickey Mao a little too pretty this time.

Kids love communism.

It's a simple fact.
Why do you think Barney always told us to share everything?
Somewhere in middle America is a lonely little Marxist girl, dreaming of having the best Christmas ever.




Poor Dave. Always holding up the Eastern European references on his Slavic shoulders.
(This is really just a ridiculous inside joke that doesn't stop.)

By popular demand,

This week's running theme on my blog: communism.


The root of my friends' obsession with commies, runs back to my days at Douglas Anderson School of the Arts. Mr. Wilson's printmaking room, a favorite haven for my friends and I, shortly became a clubhouse for the Communist Club, the unofficial Douglas Anderson chapter of funny-hat-wearing art majors who liked the style of communism. It was a great fashion statement more than it was a political statement; but more than anything else, "commies" was our favorite punchline to every joke. And it still is.

Clockwise, from top: Bailey Romaine Lettuce, Mr. Wilson, Chuck Shuck, Paul Wall, Kelly Pope, myself, Kylie White, Andre Grüber (deported to Venezuela, June 2007), and Christine Miller.


And now, my friend Arlando and I have decided to carry on the legacy through song and synth.


This is a salute to my lovely leftist readers.
There is also more to come in the next couple of days.

Par-eee

The things that happen

...When you come back home after a long while, are priceless.



Nobody saw this coming. I mean, my ex's prom date + me = freaky telepathic connection? This scenario is so random and uncomfortable and funny that it's AWESOME.

I probably shouldn't think it's that hilarious; but it's just one of those things you have to laugh at, in time.

brb NYC!

Dear Manhattan,

See you in August.

Love, Suzy

Total carnage

Ivan's 3-D final project... That's gotta hurt!

Dear 183 Houston St.,

You disappointed me. All I wanted was a job
But I didn't think I'd have to wait 30 minutes in that rainbowed funeral of a store, to realize this interview would never happen, and you didn't really need my help.
Kthxxxx

Girl Stories.

Lauren R. Weinstein came to substitute in We Cream for Comics class today.
The number of similarities we share in our comics is absolutely hilarious. She even gave me a [signed!] copy of her Girl Stories sample accordion book... Seeing as we both love drawing Morrissey, ahahaha.

My Morrissey:


Her Morrissey:


She spelled my name "Suzanna" but I don't care, I'm a sucker for irony as well as I am a sucker for her comics.

(Me = nerdnerdnerdnerd)

Straight outta 504

So this is what happens on a Saturday night... when you lock a bunch of weird kids in a New School dorm room, filled with unusual instruments. From the center, clockwise: Erik, myself, Gary Busey playing Tyra Banks as a walrus, Nick, Ali, and Max.


Try looking us up. You may not get it, but the songs sure are catchy.

Na na na na nahhh ♪

It was a giddy Sunday morning at the NYU Brunch, when a few friends of mine came up with the bright idea of interspecies reality television. We were inspired by this:



And then we came up with this:



We're hoping to pitch it to Bravo soon. It could very well be a hit.

Take Back the Night @ the New School

"2-4-6-8! No more violence, no more rape!"



If this ever comes to your college, don't be afraid to try it
I'm so glad I did. However personal when it came to the testimonials--
I was the first to speak... and I feel way more in touch with the school community as a result of it. There was so much energy in that march, and I hope there's a bigger turnout next year.

Time to face the strain--

Look out, you rock n' rollers.



I think I need this
Because if you know me, you know I'm just ALL over the place.

Peace out girl scouts

Maybe not in costume. But--
Rare footage of "Cookie Sale Girl"

www.myspace.com/grillscoutz. "Pimp My Vest" = my first claim to fame.
We were so straight-up gangsta' we pumped a total of $2000 out of the suburbs selling cookies. Can you say bling-bling?
So. this one goes out to my ladies slaving over Samoa sales-- it's a good way to learn your capitalism. Even if it means you have to make a fool of yourself in tin foil grills and bandanas.

Lucky 13.

Believe me-- I'm not embarrassed about middle school anymore.
...But I should be.

Hippest shit south of the L train--

In case you haven't caught it on my myspace page.




I am posting it on this blog... This is what New School kids will do in a dorm at 3 AM when compelled to dance around in tube socks in front of a camera.

Monoprince.

I'm working on a monoprint.

Actually, I meant to write "1962"

Lately I've had to research stuff about Lyndon B. Johnson and the Vietnam War for my 20th Century Presidents class. I think the last time I was on a Vietnam kick was a couple of summers ago, when I had to read Tim O'Brien for AP Lit. I invested in Joan Baez and Tim Buckley, but I barely researched the effects of the war

(An estimated 4 million people have suffered as a result of herbicides used in Vietnam. Only last summer did the U.S. finally acknowledge their responsibility for the cancerous chemical agent-- and also for the births of Vietnamese children with no eyes, arms or legs. )
I'm considering using my printmaking class as a vehicle for activism. This is a rough sketch for what will probably be a rough monoprint, but nevertheless it gets the point across.

"How many vaginas in the house?"

She said a lot of awesome things. I wish I could travel the world as she does, and listen to people's stories. Even if they do involve fistulas and other utterly tragic, an horrible things. Tragic and horrible truths, that people often overlook. And she made a good point-- the terror is not just in Africa, nor the Middle East. Injustice is right here, right now in our own United States.

I'm afraid I can't dechiper her handwriting, thoguh. Did she write "Vagina Blessings!" or "Vagina Blossoms!" in my copy of The Vagina Monologues?

Hahaha. Well, we will never know.

I thank Marc Bolan,

For he sometimes does an impeccable job at describing my thinking process.
Even if it does translate as nothing but the crooning of cryptic nonsense.



(T. Rex, "Electric Slim and the Factory Hen")

Ex-Kateri kids, unite!

So I have to admit, this one is just a little bit backdated.

But I had to throw in a tribute to my Camp Kateri friends, whom I visited over break.
Sometimes I think I might go back to Girl Scout Camp, just to relive the golden days of working in the smelly horse stables and sing punk songs all day. But then I realize the magic was really in the company I kept for the summer in the middle of nowhere.
Camp friends never forget eachother. And my camp friends happen to be pretty bad-ass.

"Guess who shot Soulja Boy?"

Why am I so late with these?!

Probably because I've been lollygagging (ha!)
about my hometown while Winter Break is still in full effect.
Expect a plethra more in the next couple of days!
For now, we must reintroduce Kylie White and what really goes on at the local (she'll kill me for saying this) hipster discotheque.

Party pants!

...Scene kid tested
Children of the Revolution-- approve!

Zac Efron

...is a jerk for invading my dreams. Who let him into my slumber?
[And how on earth did he shrink?]



My unconscious and I. We obviously don't talk much.

This is probably why I have really crazy dreams.
And then illustrate the best ones later:

This is only the tip of the iceberg.

You-- nor I-- will never know what to expect next.

Some old ones

I guess to keep me on track with this whole blog thing.
Y'know, also to keep you in tune with some things you might've missed.
[Also, take notice of the chronological order I am making of this;
as you descend on this page, you are descending back in time.]

Oh, the drama I sometimes create for myself.

(Lyrics compliments of The Smiths)

(Lyrics in fuzzy music cloud, compliments of Skeeter Davis' "End of the World")
(Beneath the drawing: "I don't have the heart to even reproduce the moments preceding this

Who am I to cry? I've probably hurt you more than you will let on.")

("Prediction: We'll come back for Indian Summer/and go our separate ways")

(Lyrics compliments of Beat Happening, "Indian Summer")

Dear viewers,

"In viewing this, you view my life as I see it. This includes the people involved in it. And if you've been involved in it--
Pfft. You shoulda known much better.
Friends, family, prominent figures in pop culture, boyfriends. I may protect your name and face, but never your story. Our story.
So consider yourself warned. And lucky, if I feel you're a terrible person. Because in this, our story may not exist.
Love, Suzy X."

So. Let the games begin.