Superfluous Designs

partially unemployed (part 2)

February 8, 2010 · 2 Comments

Shortly after I posted my blog, I received an email from…someone at the department of labor and training. First off, wow people read this! I feel a little like Julie in the movie Julie and Julia who wonders if people read this stuff and she says she feels like she’s just talking to herself… I know the feeling. So anyhow, the DLT person let me know about an email address that I could contact in regards to my difficulty in getting through – who knew, and sweet! So with fingers crossed, I emailed them, with my concern and my phone number and, a few hours later… they called me! I was like a nervous school girl waiting for the boy I like to call: will he call? will he not call? As far as I know the issue with my payment is resolved and I should, should be able to call the payment line and low and behold, get paid!

While I was waiting for them to call me (how awesome is that, though I have technically waited for almost a month to be paid)… I applied to two jobs, updated my LinkedIn account, and worked on some art…

melanie ducharme,art
melanie ducharme,art

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partially unemployed (part 1)

February 8, 2010 · Leave a Comment

I sit with phone in hand, dialing and dialing and dialing like some desperate, jealous lover. I beg. I plead. I cry. I feel like I would do anything, any-thing if I could just not get a busy signal… if only some kind element of the universe would allow me to be the chosen one and have the Goddamn Rhode Island department of labor and training phone service pick up! But no, Rhode Island has not only one of the highest unemployment rates, but it also has the most inefficient system to collect one’s unemployment check.

PhotobucketI lost one of my two jobs, to the company suddenly going bankrupt. I showed up to work one day and was told not to punch in because we no longer had jobs.. the whole company went under. It wasn’t a bad job, I photographed children, and I like kids, so I lost a job that I kind of liked. To add insult to injury, the company couldn’t pay anyone from the previous week. My bank account is looking pretty grim to say the least. Try calling your bill collectors and telling them, sorry, but unemployment took three weeks to even file my claim only to tell me that yes I can call their inefficient phone service to be told by said service, that there is some issue and now I have to talk to a person -  if that ever happens in this lifetime.

Why one may ask, is there not a separate line one can call if you’ve already filed a claim but there is an issue and you need to speak to a person? I don’t know the answer myself, it would make a whole lot of sense! I guess that is why people like me are partially unemployed and the ‘intelligent ones’ are running the show.

After almost three hours of ceaseless, eh, pointless dialing and getting through only to be hung up on. I tried taking a cat nap, and called again, nope. Then I made coffee, then I tried again only to again, receive the busy signal. I feel like I’m trapped in an endless cycle of pointless activity. Maybe its a government conspiracy to drive the unemployed crazy. I once seen this movie about the Holocaust and they were making one of the prisoners take bricks from a pile and move it to another pile and once they completed it, they made them start all over again. They were doing it to drive them mad. That is what I feel like…

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Opening Reception!

February 6, 2010 · Leave a Comment

This is it, the moment has arrived… Sex at the X:our erotic show officially opened to the public on Wednesday and the opening reception is tomorrow night at Gallery X, located at 169 William St. New Bedford, MA from 7-10pm.

PhotobucketThe cold, and threat of snow will not stop me from being excited and happy and a bit proud of myself (and my helpers and Robert Seigelman) for getting the show put together.  Even the diagnosis of some weird fucking ailment, Raynauds to be exact. Its motto should be: Raynauds, your stuck with it… but Sex at X doesn’t happen every day, I’ll dress in layers and use my gf as a blanket. The only seemingly sexy part about my diagnosis is my ability, eh, necessity to wear gloves, gloves outdoors, gloves while indoors, right now… I’m rocking hello kitty fingerless ones that I made myself, seriously, who sells them at an affordable price? I’m going to need to wash these from time to time and $24 at Newbury Comics is a bit much for something I need more than one pair of.

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Six months, and Selecting at the X

February 1, 2010 · Leave a Comment

Six months ago would’ve made the weather warmer. It would be August 1st.. it’d be over 30 degrees! It would be the day after my first date and first meeting of my girlfriend. Six months later I should be basking in after-glow or something to that effect….

Instead, I’m sitting in Gallery X in New Bedford, crowed around a space heater, using what I am certain may be the oldest computer on earth, while our juror selects art work for “Sex at the X.”
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I can see my girlfriend this week when the curating madness has died down, and the public then goes crazy over it….”Sex at the X” was my creation two years ago and we’re doing it again! My girlfriend, I think, understands. I am choosing to be here… I thought, my gf and I would’ve had time together this weekend… but it just wasn’t to be… and we didn’t and now I’m not so happy about it. I’m putting up a good front. I’m reminding myself of the book I should have brought along, “Zen and the Art of Happiness” so I could remind myself that bad things happen, but they could be for my benefit. That is what the book suggests. Instead I brought “The Queen’s Fool” by Phillipa Gregory. Both are good books by the way.

At least I have tea, we have a microwave now…I can heat water for tea.. and the world’s oldest computer does work and we have a cd changer, even I don’t own one of those… todays list of music that I brought along for the Sex at the X choosing of the art:

The Breeders “Last Splash”

Amanda Palmer “who Killed Amanda Palmer”

Devotcka “how it is” I forget the title

Andrew Bird “Noble Beast”

The Pixies “Wave of Mutilation” is that the name of their greatest hits thing?

There’s also a Bob Marley live cd that someone left here that is pretty choice.

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poopy.

January 27, 2010 · 2 Comments

For this blog, I should’ve drawn a gigantic piece of poop. because that would sum it all up… I currently have a grand total of  $260 to pay bills. Do you think that bill collectors accept drawings? or paintings? I don’t know when my unemployment claim will be processed – perhaps around the time I receive my master’s degree, which also sounds like something out of a fairy tale. Once upon a time, a woman received an unemployment check and a master’s degree before she died… she also fancied herself an artist.

I’m reading”Zen and the Art of Happiness” by Chris Prentiss. I’m trying to keep in mind what the author says: everything is eventually for your benefit. If I just proceed through life thinking some good will come of this seeming disaster – maybe it will. The moral of the book seems to be negative thinking will bring on negative energy and vice versa.

So on a positive note… I’m curating Sex at the X at Gallery X, it opens next Wednesday… let the good times roll.

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art of the penis.

January 25, 2010 · Leave a Comment

I worked and toiled this weekend (okay it really was just Friday and Saturday) on getting my submission in to the “lopped off” exhibit. I feel pretty proud of myself, I got it in before the deadline of tonight at 7pm. I had such a good time doing this that I am turning at least one of the drawings into a painting which my girlfriend named for me “building cock.” She had wanted me to title on of the drawings that, but of course I had already sent it out before she christened one of the pieces with that great title but the painting will have that as a title.

I’m hopping to get some $$$$ soon either by selling my work or finding another job, or both, as I am in dire need of a chiropractor.

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saturday musings…

January 23, 2010 · Leave a Comment

The Throwing muses, new Throwing Muses… at least one good reason to get up before noon.

Last night while with friends, we watched the movie “Julie & Julia.” Both two true stories… its two intertwined stories. Julie decides she is going to blog about cooking every single recipe that Julia Childs put in her Art of French Cooking book (I think that is the name of it, not so good with names). Its also about how Julia Childs became, Julia Childs. In a side note: Julia Childs spoke at my graduation at UMASS, I didn’t shake her hand while crossing the stage, but I did think it was kind of cool that she was there. Had I knew more about her, I may have shook her hand.. and that’s my three degrees to Julia Childs.

My girlfriend is my Paul or Eric. Both women have/had these significant others who were/are their soul mates, their rock, their lover and best friend. I told my girlfriend. She told me I needed to fail at cooking school first like Julia Childs did. I told her I’ve failed at plenty of things.. I don’t need to fail anymore.

The movie was inspiring as a creative person. It does make me wish to strive for more than just, simply applying to grad school. I think my gf has been telling me to do exactly this, by the way. Maybe strive for a solo exhibit, or at least small group show at a gallery. I haven’t had as solo show at a gallery since, meh… 2005? It was West Side Arts, which moved to the East side then, back to the West Side and has since changed hands.

My goal for this weekend… penis art, for the show at the Diego Rivera Gallery. I seen the open call the other day, I have a very very short deadline but I think I can swing it.

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its okay, I’m an artist.

January 21, 2010 · Leave a Comment

Today was an usually warm day for January in New England, its above freezing, Yippy! I grabbed my digital and decided to just drive around town and see if there was anything in the Coventry/West Warwick area that struck my fancy.I remembered the mill building in this part of Situate, called Hope Valley. Its about five minutes from my house. Its a pretty nice building and it looks like they are restoring it but maybe not?
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I pulled down the street that runs along the side of the complex, parked my car in the remainder of a snow drift, on the side of the road, got out of my car and started just wandering around, camera in hand.

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I had taken a good deal of photographs in the ten minutes I was there, when this company truck pulls up. I think crap! there’s still people in this building and I was in the back of the building where it said, “no trespassing.” The guy in the truck pulls up to me and asks “can I help you?” I say, “no, just taking pictures!” and I show him the camera in my hand. And he asks, “Of what??!” I said and pointed “the buildings.” He gave me a weird look and drove off… maybe I should’ve said, “I’m a RISD student.” because people understand that, as RISD students are weirdo artists. People in RI also understand, that anyone proclaiming to be an “artist” must therefore, be a RISD student.

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Thus far the police have not shown up at my doorstep so I think I’m free and clear. I left the photos on my camera just in case. I feel like artists need a badge, like a police officer, so when caught doing seemingly suspicious things, one can pull it out and proclaim, “its okay, I’m an artist!”
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Period.

January 19, 2010 · 3 Comments

My ovaries are my arch-nemesis. They rule when I can have sex or wear that cute, light colored dress. As a teenager, I dreaded it with every fiber of my being. I hated wearing maxi pads, I felt like I was wearing a diaper. And to add to the stress of having one’s period, schools don’t really allot for bathroom time between classes. Girls were always at the mercy of a teacher who may or may not write a pass for us to go use it. Not to mention, the girls’ bathroom at my high school only had two stalls with doors on them.

When I switched from pads to tampons I realized that I had entered a whole new era. They felt less dirty than pads, they’re more convenient, you can swim using them, yet still horribly over-priced and completely wasteful. Every month one is reminded how your killing the environment  – one tampon at a time. Not to mention, that small piece of cotton that makes up a tampon somehow absorbs every ounce of moisture your vagina could possibly have. However, tampons are the better solution when faced with feeling like you have on a diaper or feeling slightly dried-up, but still grown up.

Which brings me to the diva cup. My girlfriend bought me one. You only have to buy one a year! Its reusable, you wash it out between uses, making it environmentally friendly. What a wonderful invention! A wonderful invention with a huge learning curve – its a pain in the vag to use. The “how-to” directions were clearly written by someone with far superior knowledge than me, or anyone who is probably using them. I’ve lost track of how many online forums full of befuddled diva cup users there are out there. I am not alone in this! The diagram, in the directions, doesn’t show how that goes up there, but does show how it looks properly inserted. Thank god I know how it looks because I don’t have a cross-section diagram of my own vagina! Look how nice that cartoon lady’s vagina looks with the diva cup properly inserted… how the hell did she make the damn thing work?! The directions may as well be written in another language, maybe I’d understand them better. At this point, I have to commend the people making tampons because at least they have better directions and diagrams. I guess with all that money women are pouring into their companies, they can afford to have illustrations and good directions. When looking at tampon directions/diagrams, I don’t feel like less of a woman who doesn’t understand her own body! But my diva cup did come with a nifty pin that says, “diva.” Maybe had they not spent time and money creating cutesy pins, they could’ve had time and money to write better directions.

I’m also insulted and annoyed by the diva cup ’sizes’ as if all vaginas are limited to pre-baby, under-30 model and post-baby over-30 model. The post-baby, over-30 model, that I have, makes one take one look at it and think: how is that fitting comfortably up there?! My vag can’t possibly be that big! True, the cup is made of squishy silicon. But squishing it up there feels akin to, well, squishing a plastic cup up your twat. Needless to say, its doesn’t feel all that great going in regardless of the way you fold it or squish it up there. The directions and website, suggests wetting it a bit. Wetting it makes it slippery which would be helpful if one’s hands had special grippers to stop that slippery sucker from slipping out of your hands. Because now your trying to squish a wet, silicon cup into your vagina, which also doesn’t stay wide open for you to insert things, and if your lucky, the cup won’t pop open while its half in and half out, and slap your lips. Want to know how that feels? Try taking a plastic cup and just smacking yourself with it.

Speaking of it popping open, or not. Here comes the part that really makes a gal feel completely inferior to the cutesy, happy ladies in the diva cup video proclaiming their undying love for it. First you need to fold/squish the sucker to get it inside, while holding the lips of your labia open, then you need to get it to pop open while inside you. Then, just for shits and giggles, you need to make sure that its actually open and… you need to create a seal so it doesn’t leak. There is a super fun ways to do this: you can grab the base of the cup, that is now inside you, and turn that little bastard in a complete circle. By doing this, it is supposed to create a seal, so that there won’t be any leaks. Of course the thing is supposed to also not squish back into itself when you do this, which it does. On those few occasions that it actually stayed open once I turned it, it moved around and did not stay in place like its supposed to, suggesting one of two things: one) I inserted it wrong, or two) my pelvic floor muscles are not ‘tight’ enough to hold this big silicon cup inside me. I can’t figure which it is! I keep up with my kegals and yoga, yet the damn thing won’t stay put when it opens or just won’t open at all!

Thank you diva cup, clearly I am not woman enough to use you. I may fight with the stupid thing for a few more months in some vain hope of getting the thing to stay open and to stay put. Maybe fifteen years of dancing and six years of yoga and pilates will pay off yet! I’m convinced that unlike what the folks at diva cup think, no two vaginas are alike meaning some girls can make it work, while others stand in the bathroom in various awkward positions, swearing under their breath.

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portrait from my journal…

January 19, 2010 · Leave a Comment

She has this weird habit of just randomly smiling when there are those conversation lulls… or maybe its me that is smiling and she is returning it? She’s one of those straight women who makes one think she may not be – maybe all dykes want interesting women to be dykes. We’d hate for there to be ‘boring’ dykes, we want them all to be interesting, fascinating people, people that sparkle with wit, charisma, and of course brains.. Maybe she transcends a label to her sexuality. It just is.

Those shy, sly smiles are probably due to my habit of intensely watching people as they talk, sometimes people fascinate me. And I in turn, make them totally uncomfortable. She’s interesting … she leaves this impression on me, its like an after-taste. I keep thinking about it and her presence lingers.

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