Valentines Day Blows 2010!

My friends,

In the game of love, many have gotten the red card. As always, to welcome the coming of our favorite, non-all-inclusive holiday, I'm sending a special, heart-felt message to you all. That's right, folks... in 2010, just as it has done since its inception one-thousand, five-hundred years ago, Valentine's Day continues to blow. Especially from the sidelines.

So, pick yourself up from the bench, drag yourself home, and hope you don't mess things up next time you make it to the playing field. Remember there's no "I" in "LOVE."

Go team.

Love,

Kristy

*All photographic content used in VDay Blows cards is appropriated (read: stolen) imagery and not property of card creator.

MORE VDAY BLOWS:
Concerns from Kristy's mother
VDay Blows 2009
VDay Blows 2003-2008

I think I've found my calling

I now know what I can do with a degree in art and a degree in teaching: Make super-creative homemade teaching materials! Why did it take me this long to think of it?! Ha! What did this cost me, you might ask? Nothing monetarily. No, not a dime. It works out pretty brilliantly for my wallet... just a couple of hours with a pair of scissors and some glue.


And the best part? The kids were all sorts of excited to play the game! They could barely wait to get their hands on the dice and tell me what time it said on the clock where they landed.

Teaching consists of: Lots of ingenuity. Lots of patience. Lots of carefully chosen words. And lots and lots of trickery. They're learning, but shhhhh, don't tell them.

The marriage of sign-making & teaching

Who would have dreamed that two years as a Trader Joe's sign artist would prepare me so well for a career of instructional classroom poster creation?

Well, it has. I have a student in particular that spurred the conception of these mini-posters. His tendency is to--immediately upon reaching the next problem in his worksheet or workbook--begin in a whiny voice, "Meeeeess, I don' ged eeet!... (that's 'Miss, I don't get it!...' with a Puerto Rican accent). Of course, this is before he even reads the directions, reads the question, looks for clues or patterns in the previous questions, etc. He just sees that he has to do some actual thinking, and he's learned that help comes running (i.e. thinking for himself becomes unnecessary) when he vocalizes confusion.



I'm trying to stop that behavior dead in its tracks. What don't you get, my little amigo? Articulate to me exactly how I can help you. Look, I even gave you a poster with some choices! He was grumbling a whole lot when I introduced these posters to the class. Old habits die hard, but my being consistent might make him start to think twice about asking before trying something himself. And that's ultimately what we want. :)

Whirls & curls and whirls of curls

Last night, after being told that today would be a snowday, I had some strange need to sketch my hair. I really could have done without the trouble of drawing the face, to tell the whole truth, but there it is anyway. I just happened to have some really fun curls that were whirling around in all different directions, and it was kind of fun how they framed my face. If you notice, the waves on one side of my face match the waves on the other side. I never noticed before last night! I know some of you may not think that it looks like I had fun drawing my whirly curls, by the rather vacant expression I've drawn... but let me assure you that smiling continuously for upwards of an hour can be taxing on the cheek muscles. That's why I try my darndest to smile with my eyes. Although, I guess I wasn't trying too hard to do that this particular time.

(Too much) fun with Photoshop

During my first art history class as an undergrad, I remember my professor mentioning that the famous Italian Renaissance painter Raphael was "quite the looker" and pretty popular with the ladies of the 1500's. I'll admit, with only the above self portrait to serve as a testimony, I was a little doubtful that this could have possibly been the case. I mean, it's hard to imagine he would have made it much past the first date with hair like that.

Still, always one to seek scientific proof, I had to wonder whether a sort of twenty-first century makeover would level the playing field a bit. So, one night in my dorm room (and I'm sure I was putting off a paper on symbolism in Byzantine mosaics or something like that) I gave the guy a sweatshirt and some ghetto head-wear, and voilà! I turned him into college-Kristy's ideal, basketball-playing, dreamboat stud.

But upon unearthing this oldie from 2004, I decided that it still wasn't enough. I mean, what was cute in high school and college just doesn't fly anymore. So tonight, to perform the ultimate test of historical hunkability, I updated Raphael's look to cater to the mid-twenties, early-thirties, young professional crowd. And, you know what? I believe it now. That guy was attractive. To think, I was about to let the beret and pageboy look convince me otherwise. It's a darn good thing I'm commited to scientific testing and have a thirst for discovering the truth.

Just goes to show how very much a bad haircut and poor choices in accessorizing could potentially cost you your dating life.

Angst-ridden, dorm room art

Ah, nothing quite like unrequited college love to inspire some angsty plight worthy of art-creation. All of the pieces in this entry are hanging on my wall in my room right now. Okay, I lied. One of them fell down, but it will be hanging up someday when I find the ganas* to hang it back up again. I think this first two-part one was the very first of my anti-valentine art. So that places it in 2003... oooh, but it says I was 20 years old. So maybe we're talkin' 2002 here. Sweet.And this green one below just makes me feel sad to really look at it. All the heartbreak and misery sure did make for a fun little art project, though. At least it was good for something, right?


*Lest you think that ganas are hooks for wall fixtures, I will tell you that they are not. Gana in Spanish means "wish/desire/will." I adopted the word into my English vocabulary years ago because my brain keeps trying to structure sentences involving it... so I gave in. To have ganas means to feel like doing something. To find ganas... well, I just assume that it's something kinda like having them, only you don't start out with them to begin with.

And, speaking of, I have a whole LOT of ganas right now to go to bed, so that's what I'm going to do.

Some clarification

My mother called today and talked to me about this project of mine: "I hope you're not really as sad as it seems like you are in your Valentine's Day Blows cards. It's a little extreme, isn't it? People are going to think you're depressed." May I assure all of you that I usually am grinning from ear to ear as I make these cards. I find the concept that Valentine's Day "blows" to be really hilarious. Please know that I am not a bitter or sad person. I just think this is funny.