Pack Cat Cat Pack

I am starting to worry that I won't finish packing in time.
The more I worry, the less I pack.

Questions:
1.) How does that make any sense?
2.) Do you have any idea how much I hated this cat?

Asheville

smells like hippies and the critters that grow on the bottom of boats.

Analog is Dead

Cliche Sunset, But Let Me Wax Sentimental

My last night in New York City. As I continue to put off packing until the last possible second and begin to part ways with my fleeting Brooklyn home, I find myself surprisingly content. I just finished sucking the marrow dry from this city, and I'm ready for the next big thing. If I'd left yesterday, it would have been too soon, and tomorrow afternoon would be too late... you can call me the Goldilocks of Bushwick.

Waiting for the Subway

Nostalgic for an Era I Never Knew

I handwashed three loads of laundry with a washboard and a big metal basin. The whole loft smelled like a steaming vat of synthetic mountainside springtime. I felt so bohemian, stringing clotheslines across my bedroom in my painted-up button-down, some Jimmy Hendrix album sc-sc-scratching on a record player in the background. It felt like a throwback to another era, nearly an idyllic moment, but I was wrenched from bliss by the resounding chorus in my head: should have been twenty forty years ago. That's when things were happening, man.

Peace, love, protest, drugs, rights... It's like we've got to find something to bring us together. A generation organized in twos and threes and tens and twenties will never revolutionize, and a cult of underfed Williamsburg suburbanites living off their parents' trust funds can hardly qualify as a counterculture.

...Annnnnd, We're Back.

To make a long story short: you can expect posts on a fairly regular basis once again, and this is the view from our back porch.

Trading Spaces: The Brooklyn Edition

One of my favorite things about living in the loft has been improving the space. For the first time, I have personal and communal space that I can ameliorate semi-permanently or permanently. The loft is a place where anyone who comes in has the right to change it and make it part of their own. People write on the walls when they feel like it, turn the kitchen into a jam session recording studio when they feel like it, build lofts or tree houses or skateboarding ramps when they feel like it...

So far, my favorite parts of the loft to modify have been the walls. I've painted the bedroom of a roommate blue/black/grey, the bedroom of another roommate white, my own bedroom blue and white, and the entryway to the loft bright, bright orange. I've also spent a lot of time writing on the walls, and last night I made the wall behind the sink an enormous canvas for an illustration. I've always felt a bit like a guest in my dorm room, knowing decorations will have to come down in due time and any major painting or modifications will have to be changed back. Likewise, in my family's new house, which is toured by visitors on a semi-regular basis, my creative impulses could never be made manifest as permanent installments. Even my bedroom is limited to my mother's tasteful interior decoration, since I was off at school during the move. In the loft, though, I feel an enhanced sense of ownership despite my short stay: knowing the art, thoughts, and paint I add to it will far outlast my stay makes me feel like a part of the space itself.

This is really frickin' sweet.

Really.

My Internship Rocks.

My boss (on the phone): I hate these guys! What's the politically correct term for Indian Giver? [pause] No, Native American Giver isn't good either.

Update coming soon. Srsly.

Strange Experiences with Lost & Found

1.) Around Spring Break, just as the weather was finally warming up, I lost my rainbow flip-flops. After searching my suite quite thoroughly, I assumed I'd left them on the Jackson trip and took them for dead. During Dorm Crew last week, cleaning the dorm of a slight acquaintance who I didn't visit once during or after Spring Break, I found a flip-flop wedged between a table and the wall that looked remarkably like mine. My workers didn't believe that it could possibly be mine. "If it's really yours," one of them said, "the toe marks will match up." I proceeded to take off my sneaker, strip off my sock, slip my foot into the shoe, and--lo and behold--the toe marks matched. A true Cinderella story. Too bad I never found the second flip-flop.

2.) Yesterday, I went to the dubbing station to burn my video projects to a DVD, and there, on top of the dubbing station, was the first short project I ever made in my first video class a year ago. I've used the dubbing station half a dozen times the last semester--in fact, I searched the station thoroughly the last time I used it looking for a blank DVD--and there I've never seen any tapes of mine in there before. What's more, the title written on the tape wasn't in my handwriting.

3.) Perhaps the weirdest story of them all: As you might remember, I visited NYC about a month ago to secure my internship and find housing. On the bus trip down, I took off my gold coin earrings to take a nap, and when I woke up, I forgot all about them and left them on the seat (or so I thought). I'm currently on my way back to NYC for said internship--same bus company, different bus seat, probably a different bus. I'm wearing brand new shorts and a new shirt, both obtained within the past two weeks. About five minutes ago, I looked down on my lap, and there were my earrings. Not crammed down in the seat, not on the floor, but on my lap. The other mysteries have plausible solutions, but this one blows my mind. I have no idea how they got there.

4.) This has nothing to do with losing or finding things, but a bird ran into me yesterday. Just plowed into my shin while it was flying and I was walking. It fell to the ground, and we were both stunned for a fraction of a second; then it flew away and I kept walking. Do birds fly into people often?

I also found my license--which I'd been missing for nearly a year--in an old book I started reading last summer but never finished. I must have been using it as a bookmark. Note to self: bad idea.

Revolving Doors (Stop Motion)

Talk about a blast from the past: this was something I made right after I decided to be a film major but long before I ever actually touched a camera. I used the webcam on my MacBook, and actually had the audacity to use this as supporting evidence on why I should be admitted to Harvard's intro film class.

Untitled (Toothpaste)

Untitled (Toothpaste) from Katherine Tygielski on Vimeo.

One of my projects from Intermediate Video.

Curves in All the Right Places

This has nothing to do with anything, but I think Mika may very well be the most beautiful person on the face of the planet.

Subterranean Homesick Blues

Too True To Life

I'm sure I've already shown this to the entire handful of people who read this blog, but it's too funny not to share. This has been every conversation I've had for the past two weeks, more or less.

Three days to freedom.

Told Me I Was Beautiful

Don't say goodbye like you're burying him
'Cause the world is round, and he might return.

Progressive Graffiti

MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

I'm not sure why all animators seem to have an obsession with the violent and grotesque, but animated cannibals and frequent decapitation aside, this is one of the most innovative animations I've ever seen.

(courtesy of sommeree)

A Smorgasbord of Observations

1.) I can tell which of my five roommates is taking a shower by the color of the towel on the rack. I find this strangely comforting.

2.) In a little more than a month, I will spend my days in Manhattan working with one of the first video artists in the world in Manhattan, and I will spend my nights in Williamsburg with nine 20-something artists in a huge, half-finished loft. My summer is going to be ridiculous.

3.) In the past year, a total of three women sitting directly across from me on the subway have burst into tears. I don't ride the subway often--once a month max--so it's a bizarre coincidence.

4.) It is not a reasonable goal to walk the length of New York City in one day. At least not if you're easily distracted. And in flip flops.

5.) Good things always happen with the worst possible timing. My theory is that when the timing is terrible, you've got nothing to lose. When you've got nothing to lose, it's easier to take a risk. The bigger the risk, the bigger the potential payoff. Thus, risks = happiness.

6.) I cry more during movie previews than I do during movies. Which is not a lot, but still weird.

7.) 90% of the music I listen to the most was introduced to me in high school. 90% of that 90% was introduced to me by my roommate. My music library has become totally stagnant. This is no good at all. I think I'll organize a mixed tape exchange immediately.

WOOHOO!

Mather Spring Formal

Great dancing, great date, great dress, great house... I couldn't have asked for a better night. The whole event was Mather to the core: open bar, solo cups everywhere, big tent full of sweaty, dancing drunks... It felt a little post-apocalyptic during clean-up, but it was fantastic being surrounded by so many people I know and love, all having a crazy time. There's something so awesome about having a formal in your own backyard.

Photograph(s)

I'll be at the reception from 5:30-6:30 if anybody is interested in going with me! The thesis show will be going on one floor above ours, so there will be food and art a'flowing. My photographs are in it (and there are photographs of me in it), but I'm actually almost prouder of my classmates' work than I am of my own. I'd say it's a very impressive exhibition for an introductory class.

[42]

I'd tell all my friends, but they'd never believe me
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely
I'd show them the stars and the meaning of life
They'd lock me away, but I'd be all right

Look, Ma! I'm On a Postcard!

If you're in the Boston area and you're free tonight, you should come by Mather! This exhibition will be up in the Three Columns Gallery, and there's an ArtsFirst Coffee House starting at 8:00 in the Senior Common Room. Six of my works are on display in the gallery, and three of my videos will screened at the coffee house. It should be a pretty good time!

The Newest Tygielski

My brother had a baby girl! This is not the newest news, but I finally have the photographic evidence to prove it. She was born in Germany last Friday, and she's a tiny little thing... just 4 pounds, 6 ounces. I can't even imagine holding a living, breathing baby so itty-bitty.

Noam Chomsky!

I have spent entirely too much time at Harvard failing to take advantage of the opportunities practically thrown at students here. This semester alone and lecturers alone, I've missed the opportunity to see the President of Mexico, the President of Greenland, Jeff Koons, and the makers of XKCD and Dino Comics. This doesn't even touch on orchestras, plays, bands, films, filmmakers, art exhibitions, and actors. I usually decide that I'm "too busy" to go and inevitably end up regretting that decision.

Well, I'm happy to say that today was an exception to that norm.

Noam Chomsky rules.

Nothing to Write Foam About

...but it's not too shabby. I made this video, in collaboration with one Derek J, for Mather's annual foam party. Eight feet of bubbles, pumping music mixed by the the #1 DJ in the world, lights low, inebriated/half-naked Harvard students covered in slippery foam... It's a pretty crazy time. You can imagine.

Yeahhh, Mather Lather.

Wait, What?

The grant money came through.

I'm going to India next semester.

Wigging Out

Cheer up, mannequins! You're wearing ridiculous wigs!

Sometimes subtlety isn't my strong suit.

What I like about this photograph is that I can't tell if I'm about to be run over or if I've just been saved.

The House That Jack Built

Waiting for the Tipping Point

I like to let problems get to a tipping point, and then deal with them all at once. I would rather clean my room once I can't see the floor anymore, wait until I have a dozen text messages before touching my cell phone, or write a ten page paper in one sitting the night before it's due. People like time management and organization and planning ahead; I can only stand it in small amounts.

The only other person I've known to operate this way was my high school roommate. Sometime during the month we moved into school, we were doing homework on our respective bunk beds. I leaned over to sharpen my pencil off the top bunk, and at the same time, she unwrapped a granola bar and tossed the wrapper off the bottom bunk. We laughed about it, and I think maybe that was the moment I realized that we had this weird mutual understanding. We would spend all week letting the mess in our tiny double accumulate, and then we'd spend hours cleaning up our ankle-deep clutter for weekly room inspections. It wasn't that we were too lazy to move an extra few feet to the trash can or laundry basket... it just made sense to us to do it that way.

It drives everyone else crazy. People think I'm disorganized and cluttered and a bit chaotic. I agree that it might not be the best life philosophy, but to me, it's organized chaos. It's the way I function.

Kandinsky v. Tygielski

Red, Green, Yellow, Tygielski


Yellow, Red, Blue, Kandinsky

Undercover Harmonizer

Confession: When the boys next door play the acoustic guitar or violin, their music seeps through the concrete walls, and I sometimes listen in. When it's a song I know, I even break out into the harmony. I love when they play.

David Hockney

Ian Swimming, Hockney

This man is my hero. Besides using a Polaroid camera for a lot of his photography (major bonus points right there), he's created totally unprecedented photo collages inspired by Cubist paintings. By arranging smaller, individually photographed pictures to create one composite image, he transformed scale, perspective, and angle in ways no other photographer had before him (or has since, really). Check out the simultaneity of time and space in Ian Washing His Hair below--it reminds me so strongly of Marcel Duchamp's Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2:


Ian Washing His Hair, Hockney


Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2, Duchamp

Perpindicular Universe

Crash and Burn

Through the Fire Door

Yesterday was the perfect day. The sun was shining, I finished my problem set a full day early, they passed out free ice cream at comp sci office hours... It was one of those ideal moments. I even started humming that terrible song from the opening of "Legally Blonde" while I was walking through Harvard Yard.

Everything went smoothly with room-picking. I somehow didn't screw anything up, and we ended up with the big corner suite through our fire door. I'm ridiculously excited... I've burst through the fire door at least a dozen times to admire our new room. We're open to suggestions for a sweet suite name if you have any ideas.

No Man Left Behind

...But one man sent alone. I'm the only one available in my rooming group to take our appointment today to choose our future suite, and I'm nervous I'm going to screw it up. Yes, it should be straightforward. Yes, we've worked out every example and counterexample, and I know which room to pick in any situation. I know it should be a piece of cake, but... Well, let me put it this way: if my rooming group were to take a poll on the most scatterbrained roommate, the result would be unanimous. It's a risky business putting me in charge of anything so important.

Our new roommate, Cathy, drew a great number for us in the housing lottery. (She's a lucky duck!) The only big group ahead of us is choosing the one corner suite we don't want, so we basically have our pick of party rooms. We're thinking of sticking close to home and taking the big six-man currently through our fire door. If we play our cards right, we'll end up living next door to this good-looking fellow and his roommates (Cathy's blockmates and good friends of our whole rooming group). Even if we don't play our cards right, we'll end up next to Jim, Dick, and friends, and that would be pretty awesome, too.

Grounded

I got rid of my bed frame yesterday. I'm not sure why I did it, but it was definitely a good decision.

Pay Attention

Links of Interest:
[ x ] Joshua Bell Plays in Subway Station
[ x ] C215 Goes Unnoticed Stenciling London
(courtesy of Voodoo Knickers)

If We Are the Body

Jump for Joy

Awesome Happening #1: Robert found an affordable apartment in NYC for me, him, and Thomas this summer. Robert is amazing. Good morning, Upper East Siders!

Awesome Happening #2: I think I got the internship with In Motion Productions! It was the only internship I really wanted, but I gave up on it when the filmmaker didn't reply to my application e-mail or follow-up e-mail. I was just about to send out a whirlwind of resumes when I got an e-mail that said something along the lines of, "I'm in Senegal. Let me know if you want to confirm definitely working with me this summer." That sounds like an offer... right? If it is, I'll be working:

1.) in a small indie film production company (like I want to work in for a living)
2.) with a really chill experimental and documentary filmmaker (like I want to be for a living)
3.) where I'll be given hands-on production and post-production assignments and a project of my own to head up (like I'll eventually be DOING for a living)

The best part is (insert drumroll here) that the production company is responsible for making the "Elmo's World" segments on Sesame Street, and I'll be helping to make about six of them over the course of the summer. Rock out!

Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out

Gwon Osang

There's so much to say about the trip, but my photos are currently being developed and my words alone couldn't possibly do justice to the experience. Since a picture is worth a thousand words (or so they say), I'll wait until I get my negatives back before I try to take on the week in Jackson.

In the meantime, these are the creations of Gwon Osang, a sculptor/photographer who creates life-size three-dimensional objects out of pictures. Wicked.