Three years into the process, I was having trouble adjusting to the idea that I was writing a memoir. I didn’t want to write about myself, I wanted to write about my father. But I couldn’t seem to do one without the other. I wanted to make a book of his art, immortalized images printed cleanly next to the story of his life, a canonization.
Read MoreDear Mark, I don’t understand how the money still hasn’t reached you. Are you sure you gave me the right account number? It’s so strange! But don’t worry. I will sort out the matter.
In his day to day work life, Anthony Grant creates commercial design work for the masses. He spends his days crafting user interfaces as well as other digital and or printed media relying on acquired knowledge of the graphic arts. Balancing those “rules” of design with his own intuition and style. While his professional work strives for perfection and or “solutions”, his personal art work aims to be disruptive, while drawing on the familiar, using certain visual cues and symbols often found in advertising to question identity and cultural norms/expectations.
Read More“When I was twenty-three, I promised my best friend I would carry her child. The year after we graduated from college, doctors needed to do a hysterectomy to save her life—a surgery she was considering forgoing. “If I can’t be a mother, I should just die,” Bora had told me in the black of our San Francisco apartment as we watched Where the Wild Things Are. We sat on our secondhand sofa, sharing my childhood blanket, and I tried to imagine life without her…”
Read MoreI’ve always felt so small in museums. Not just literally, as I craned my neck up to gaze at sculptures and paintings and installations. Conceptually, too. Like the decades or, even, centuries represented by each piece expanded around me. And I was a small speck on this timeline, one small speck.
Read MoreI can’t see the sea from where I live. But it’s there. I remember.
I read once that people who grow up on islands often experience a very specific form of anxiety when they move to landlocked places. There is no word for this specific fear. The closest is cleithrophobia, the fear of being trapped.
