My body is curled on a swab of wood, facing a computer that has

a murky screen in bright sunlight. Its hard to make out the details of
my browser. What I can see is the reflection of my face leaning against
a textured cement wall, what could be a pixel image of myself
embedded in the document itself. Im interested in analyzing my mind
and body in relationship to aesthetics and objects in my world that is,
through one lens, framed by technology. How does my body, and my
passion for art and aesthetics, relate to other zones of production?
While I keep my limbs adorned in aesthetic displays of found and
purchased objects, I also watch the process at which I transition the
organic and sublime through my organic amoeba and frame the
images by using digital media-a process of creation. An explanation
through a specific narrative: my squishy lips and squinting eyes look
out an oval airplane window as the aeroplane ascents, to reveal a
circular rainbow wrapping around the airplane as a splash of bass
drops in Kygo and Marvin Gaye. This sort of sublime psychedelia is a
design I have desired since, to cherish, even recreate, through video
editing of works inspired by this moment on software like Final Cut Pro
and iMovie. My organic body is a vessel moved by the organic
sublime, and works as a transition point between one organic object
to an inorganic creation.
What do I wear to the DJ club? Today, Im wearing a shiny black
raincoat with a hood and yellow stripes on its sleeves, knit tights that
cascade down my legs, looking like grey and blue seaweed, thin shoes
made out of leather, and a cotton t-shirt. My tights were made in Japan
and I found the jacket in the trunk of my car. The leather shoes I got in
a town in Massachusetts. When I think about how I want to look some
nights, I usually think about images of other people and of art that I
found on the Internet. I scrolled through images of fishnet tights and
they landed on me and wrapped around my legs. I want them, and with
my fingers that follow algorithms, itll happen. Something I dont do is
pay attention to the subtle contours of my body when I lace it up. Dont
buy dresses for an hourglass shape or bellbottom jeans. What I do
notice is how my body moves once in the venue, white skirts pushing
against the body and a waxy jacket uncomfortably lumped over my
arms. My eyes connect with someone who is feeling the song just as
much as me, and we share an incredibly intimate moment as we move
bodies in our outfits. My body, a plant well hidden beneath layers of
inorganic, consumed objects (that have a streak of organicism in their
origins), moves organically, while pushing the inorganic outwards. This
phenomenon could be described by the Icelandic word, ortt, meaning
twisted in a loop.
What inspires my organic body to express itself in an inorganic
object form is the sublime. I can imagine how psychedelia dictates my
conception of aesthetics. My brain is grooved by the sheer weight of an
image of a vivid rainbow. I have wanted to recreate this ephemeral

moment. Works that include traces of memory of this rainbow include a

video piece picturing my friend dancing in a Colorado field with her
short curly hair crashing over her face. Here, included, is the organic
motion that is dancing, a symbol of rainbow feeling. My friend Tina is
dressed in her own consumed objects while her limbs spill out in
breathless motion. I think about the aesthetics of how our bodies move
in accordance with images outside of airplane windows.
Even more profound is how my positive associations with
rainbows project themselves upon other objects all the time. There it
is: wrapped around my bracelet is a tiny wrist of rainbow flowers. I got
this rainbow from a hotel lobby in Hawaii. The inorganic object, plastic,
circles my body in aesthetic glory and expression in the same way the
rainbow did circle that plane. This effortless drive towards my
experience on an airplane guides my body into a psychedelic place of
transformation and contemplation.
I believe there is ecology between the living and the
nonlife. Its as if, no matter where I am in the inorganic world, I connect
myself to the organic sublime. In the spirit of the word momentum, I
will acknowledge something weird about the subject of my body,
expression, and a world of objects to be consumed. As style is pushed
further into plastic realm and I follow it there, I feel this path leading
me to the exact opposite: complete nakedness. I think this feeling was
realized in a car on my way back to UCLA. Dante looked at me from his
tan and fuzzy suede drivers seat and told me that Grace Jones used to
go to parties naked. This aesthetic choice on the part of Grace Jones, to
me, exists in a similar vein to an idea that under-boob is timeless, that
an Icee stained khaki carpet is a good look. Two extremes within a
certain ecology seem to flow seamlessly together.
When I put on a polyester skirt my goal is not to destroy the
Earth, but nonetheless, plastic is an incredibly destructive material. My
captivating spiral tan lines etch down my back after my trip to Hawaii,
spelling out a trip I purchased. My body suction cups onto my Tempur
Pedic fibres. My boyfriend thinks the fibres are an essential, as he
punches a pillow into comfortable shape with a small palm. I have style
options, I dont choose. I chose through a frame of choices given to me
by shops and the Internet that is heavily curated. I open one door and
theres a lot of crochet and chunky toe shoes. Through another is torn
sportswear so I can transition seamlessly from the treadmill to an
elevator.
This analysis rounds back to my point that I am now
expressing myself on this computer, barely able to see the screen. This
student is present because it's a degree requirement and the TA is
taking attendance. Or is it more than that? The bare bones of
reasoning come accessorized, adornment or on the other edge,
unadornment follow closely behind one another.