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.