RD Studio

Tag: writing

  • Dichotomy of being a woman

    I started writing about my relationship with beauty, and I became newly cognizant of my wounds and how I’ve coped. I spent years of my life hoping for approval, which was probably just looking for social safety. Beauty does not equate to happiness though. Now expressing my experiences of the two different extremes I feel more capable of explaining the pro’s and cons of isolation and assimilation.

    Before I dive into my personal experience, I think it’s fair to discuss my opinions on culture and biology. Humanity evolved partly due to forming communities. Communities lead to safety in numbers, and fitting into a community is a form of survival. Wanting Society or community to accept us or value us is arguably ingrained in our biology. I do not fault anyone for fearing rejection or adapting themselves to their environment. We also have cultural standards that are entirely subjective based on the time. We assign physical attributes to internal traits, thus assigning discipline to weight, or skin color to wealth or status. The differing standards are stark depending on what era or part of the world you are observing. Maybe I find it fascinating because depending on when you are born, you can have an entirely different opinion of yourself. A different life, but look no different.

    I had a hard childhood that contained lots of social isolation and rejection. I was homeschooled for years, I was raised Christian, and I grew up on a farm with two doomsday prepping parents. I had brief stints of socialization. I tried Christian summer camp and a private religious school for a year. Anytime there was any social interaction it was constant social rejection. Eventually my parents enrolled me in public school for high school, and my freshman year was a nightmare. Once I started my sophomore year though, my mom heard I was getting bullied and she invested in clothing and got me a nice haircut. It was one of those high school makeover plot lines, but it was my real life. I got rid of my braces and it was an immediate induction into the social fold. One boy liked me, and it was smoother sailing from there. Although I enjoyed the new validation and acceptance I received, that started a more calculated shift into seeking social approval, and because I had been outside looking in, being objectified felt liberating and empowering at the time.

    When I was in my awkward phase I really saw a darker side of people and I do believe society as a whole subconsciously practices Social Darwinism. I wonder if the social pecking order is a biological congruence we share with the animal kingdom? I would feel essentially told “You don’t deserve to exist”. In essence, that is what social isolation is.

    In my experience people (mostly men) view beauty as a prerequisite for baseline respect. Seeking to fit the Beauty standard can become about safety. It is also maybe a general stamp of approval that you deserve to carry on the genetic lineage.

    As I grew up I got to experience both sides of the coin. I was taught from birth that Beauty is the most important thing. As I grew up and reached that “pinnacle” I dreamed of, I realized, it is just the first rung we must reach, there is a long list of other qualities you must have. I got so many contradictory messages from men, I was sexy and desirable one moment, and a disgusting whore the next. Men showed me that dating was inauthentic.

    When I was 16 I remember hearing that a guy I had never met, told everyone they slept with me. I was never given a chance to deny it, no one believed me. I think that was one of my first experiences feeling violated as a girl and seeing widespread misogyny.

    To many men, women are meant to be decorative accessories or tools to be used at their disposal. Men love to make rules on how women should conduct themselves, but they rarely make sense. I learned that being seen as slutty can get a woman killed but also confused because men sexualize women all the time.

    Being desired felt empowering and fun for a bit.. until it didn’t.

    I saw this image recently, and immediately felt it encompassed the shift I made after that. Sick of being objectified so I hid my femininity, my sexuality, and I wanted to become invisible.

    This was my primary coping mechanism for years.

    I only hid myself because I learned that once you hold societal value then people want to capitalize on it. I know the dark side and the predatory people. One of the biggest sales technique in marketing is “Sex sells” which really is “women’s bodies sell”. Whole economies growing off the backs of women’s beauty. But they really don’t like it when you monetize it.

    When I was 18 I went out and got a tattoo with my cool older sister. When we were driving home she told me a story about when she was young, she had drank too much and passed out in a room. She woke up hearing her friends on the other side of the door auctioning off her unconscious body to the highest bidder. She jumped out of the window and ran away.

    I’ve had to lock a bathroom door and sleep on the floor with toilet paper rolls as a pillow.

    Every woman has a collection of stories like this. I don’t even want to list all the times men tried to take advantage of me, or the ones that succeeded.

    I decided after feeling effectively traumatized enough, that approval by men is a pedestal built on sand and in worst cases it is the predominant tool used to control women. Although I think it may seem extreme, I do believe men use being desired as a tool to diminish or control us. You cannot “win” the game of beauty because there is always another beautiful woman that is different, and novelty turns attention from even the most gorgeous women. It’s like a hamster wheel to put us on.

    I do believe that there is a sense of freedom in to not trying to be beautiful. If the choice is love or hatred, Id rather choose indifference. But in another way, my actions or inaction are not free because I am choosing to act differently because of others. Not seeking approval is one thing, and being afraid is another thing. Hide and don’t try to look attractive. Be a good girlfriend. A good girlfriend doesn’t attract attention.

    After writing this, I realized I was afraid of men. So I am making small efforts to look “nicer” because I equate attention to danger. Last week I made a conscious decision to look nice and put on a dress, and I went to the mall.

    I was walking by a group of mall salesmen. I think they were trying to sell sneaker cleaner, but they’re all vying to get attention from anyone. I kept my head down and avoided eye contact, but I hear this one guy yelling to me “you want a friend?”. Very strange and I just ignored it.

    After walking past them I hear the one guy say loudly ” I guess you have enough friends… Bitch“

    I heard it and there was no mistaking what he said. I took a second, and decided that a man that says that feels like he can get away with it- and he shouldn’t.

    I confronted him and the 5-10 other guys with him. I left the mall and was seething in my car. It felt like a moment where I could’ve said “see? You were right! Go back to hiding yourself, Its safer to be invisible!!!”

    But now that I see it, I wont let little pricks effect my choices in life. Depending on our most extreme moments, freedom can feel like different things. To a repressed Christian girl, sexuality can feel like freedom. To a sexually traumatized girl, invisibility can feel like freedom.


    The world can be a dark place. How we cope with it, is natural, but I will always try to examine the beliefs I have so I do not think my wounds hold the answers. As we age, our bitterness often grows, which means time doesn’t always teach the right lessons.

    For all those formative years of yo-yoing between those social extremes, In the last 10 years I have met so many good people with truly good hearts. I have a great husband that has healed a lot of those dark memories of my past. Having so many genuine connections now shows me what relationships and community can feel like.

    I hope for all of us that we can break away from the ludicrous gender expectations that we have culturally decided. Femininity is not denying our humanity and bodily functions. The idea that we have to earn our existence is hierarchal delusion and psychological warfare. You are born and thus you deserve to be alive.

    Beautiful or ugly- you hold the same place on this planet. No one actually gets decide its validity. Beauty is subjective and ever changing, but we exist no matter the cultural standards.


  • A practice in creativity

    I thought about how much fun I would have when I was young and me and my sisters would go get free magazines from the library. We had so much fun drawing mustaches and unibrows on every super model on the pages. I also would make collages for hours on end-so I bought some acrylic markers and tried to have fun like a kid, and see what the book brought out.

    This is Not Fashion: Streetwear Past, Present and Future.

    This is one of my favorites I did. I think I like it because these designs remind me of the individual. Maybe it’s their vibes or the look in their eyes that made me pick these shapes- but I feel that it makes sense. Sharp on one side, and smooth rounded shapes for the other. We assign personality traits to people based on their physical features, and I wonder how close I am to who they are.

    My fiance had a pet crow when he was a kid. It had a hurt wing and he helped it recover. Now I always notice crows. I just really like this photo because it has a somber quality and it reminds me of him a lot. This kid skates and is obviously very cool.

    This was one of my very first attempts with the project and I regret adding too much silver. I could’ve done less, but I do feel like the silver makes a statement.

    The design was made by the artist on the left, and my addition is on the right. I wanted to mimic his style and continue the design with the model on the right. It was just blue and very plain.

    Very punk. I thought red lines was the way to go. My favorite part I added was the red devil horns.

    This was surprisingly hard. I didn’t sketch it out first and used acrylic to almost paint this on. I added brick and I wanted it to feel like the tunnels I would drive in when I commuted to Seattle. Graffiti is a big part of a city. It is a subculture and the expression of the streets.

    My addition was the hairy armpit and bush. I think it was an obvious artistic choice on many levels. But a great piece of art- so I didn’t add too much.

    My one regret was including “Misandry”. That was an artistic mistake I think. But I do love the white lettering.

    I do think this book has a special quality that does elicit creativity, but really anything technically works, and any coffee table book is ideal because of the thick pages. I think the fine tip acrylic markers are the ideal choice for a project like this. I got a bunch of thicker ones and barely used them.

    I think this project is fun, and its worth trying out if you feel creatively blocked.

  • Writing Therapy

    I started writing as a way to express my thoughts for my therapy sessions, which over time has become a way to expel the pressure of my own thoughts. I have ADHD, and I’m very philosophical and introspective. In the past, it all just lived in my head.

    Two years ago, I was making a big shift in my life. I was getting over burnout in the aviation industry and realizing my future career wasn’t my future anymore. I was at a point where my foundation was showing real cracks, and there’s nothing like emotional pain to motivate change. Those two years of therapy brought me exactly what I needed. It allowed me to question everything. I decided to open up my belief system and examine it piece by piece. I chose to remodel my foundation rather than rely on beliefs I formed as a child.

    I’ve been on a long search for change and maybe an arbitrary truth. I got some answers when it came to my purpose. I am an artist with a unique perspective on the world. My mediums have been drawing or painting, and now writing. I will probably try any medium that allows me to get my thoughts and ideas out of my own head.

    I have minimal education as an artist or as a writer, but I want to learn how to take you on my journey, wherever that may be. Most artists are simply trying to express exactly what they see. It’s not easy..

    I went through a phase of insecurity recently, where I feared it wasn’t worth writing in a blog if it wasn’t more refined or perfected. I received some harsh criticism, and it made me feel like there wasn’t a point in even trying. I didn’t write for a week or so, but I felt that pressure building. I felt more dull, even angry.

    My epiphany tonight was that my writing is more of a mental health exercise. It transforms my tension into energy. The physical charge I get after speaking my thoughts cohesively makes me feel awake. An adrenaline rush, like I just went skydiving.

    Part of me hopes that I don’t have readers, because it scares me to show up publicly as a beginner. We all know the criticism we face when stepping into the arena. I’d rather not think about harsh opinions while I practice my purpose. I am writing to let myself feel the freedom I love. I’m writing because I have something to say.

  • Drugs and Art: A perspective on Jean-Michel Basquiat

    I went to the MOCO Museum in Amsterdam this October and got to see my first Basquiat in person. The series included about five paintings. Seeing Basquiat up close is the only way you should see his work. You don’t really get the experience through a phone screen; it’s like trying to hear every note in jazz while wearing a pair of Delta headphones.

    What makes it so much more powerful in person is that you can truly see the pressure of the lines carved into the canvas—the frantic scribbling, as if his heart might stop if he doesn’t keep drawing. You can actually feel his intensity and energy through the art, which leaves you feeling genuinely stressed, maybe even anxious. That emotional weight is fully captured within the canvases themselves.

    You may hate it—my friend did—not enjoying the discomfort of being in a room filled only with Basquiat. My very first thought when I saw them was, “Oh… yeah, he’s on drugs.”

    Maybe not a revolutionary conclusion but after doing my research, I was definitely right.

    There are several common factors that are discussed when it comes to Jean-Michel and his unique art style.

    Jean-Michel grew up culturally rich, with a Haitian father and a Puerto Rican mother, and spoke English, Spanish, and French frequently. His parents divorced when he was 7. There was physical abuse from his father but he had fond memories of his mother, as she supported his art and his education. She famously enrolled him as a Junior Member of the Brooklyn Museum when he was six and gave him books like Gray’s Anatomy, which can later be seen as a major influence on some of his imagery. His parents’ divorce, and him getting in a car accident and having surgery at an early age, constant discrimination, and eventually his mother being put into a mental hospital for depression were major parts of his childhood, and the situation became untenable enough for him to choose to become homeless at 15—living in Washington Square Park—or couch-surfing where he could. He chose freedom and found his way to survive as a starving artist. He painted graffiti with Al Diaz around 1978 to 1980, and they produced the “SAMO” project, which was a big part of his break as an artist. It didn’t hurt that they would do their graffiti pieces near well-known art dealers and galleries in NY.

      For some reason, it is rare to find any art critics speaking about his drug use in relation to his art. I personally believe that art and drugs were both coping mechanisms that became entangled. When one is entrenched in emotions and pain, an artist finds a way to express it and show their perspective on the world. With how Jean-Michel conducted himself, he denied societal rules and rules set by the art world. His drug use could also have propelled him to unlock his personal art style for several reasons. The substances he was using were generally stimulants or psychedelics, leading to increased performance in terms of artistic output. Also, from the intensity of his brush strokes, it was clear to me what he was feeling. Intensity is often mentioned in regard to Basquiat, but his intensity and his drug use were intrinsically entwined.  

    I would never state that Jean-Michel Basquiat was not talented in any way, but what I will venture to say is that this should be factored into the equation of his work.

    Annina Nosei found him and decided to sponsor him as an artist. His living situation wasn’t very good, so she allowed him to live at her studio for a while he created his his first collection, until he sold every piece at his first show. Then he was able to graduate from starving artist to tortured genius: money flowing and the notoriety he apparently craved. He was a huge hit in the art scene and created new collections at record speeds.

    He was reported to play his music incredibly loud in his studio and you could hear it in the gallery, disrupting business. But Annina allowed it.  He would play loud rap music and have all his canvases laid out on the ground. He would work on multiple pieces at the same time, frantically running from one side of the studio to the next and even walking on his art. His shoe prints became a defining characteristic of identification. 

    Now, I would say that there are some more realistic portraits that Jean-Michel created, with touches of his usual style. That could be a dichotomy between his sober mind and his manic era. Drugs in high doses over time can also create psychological ramifications like irritability, emotional instability, paranoia, dopamine burnout, and people reported him having incorrect memories. He became addicted to heroin, which led to his early demise. I wonder if there is any possibility of bipolar disorder, or if it was only drug-induced mental health issues.  

    Burning Out

    Anthony Haden-Guest interviewed America’s foremost black artist in the last stages of his blazing trail, as he careened between art dealers and drug dealers

    https://www.vanityfair.com/news/1988/11/jean-michel-basquiat?srsltid=AfmBOopm2i6K8lx4kekKcvKmSgQgt7yuQRRwARarf6JzQvYx7NY9vF7J

    Andy Warhol, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the Friendship That Defined the Art World in 1980s New York City

    https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2019/07/andy-warhol-jean-michel-basquiat-friendship-book?srsltid=AfmBOoq_eTZiqPDPldXcGHUayBZLcHaUFANSiRewdXaLpeOIVEPQtmIy

    My theory is that Jean-Michel used stimulants to amass a huge body of work as quickly as he could, and I also think he used drugs to unlock his creativity in different ways. Beyond performance-enhancing stimulants being useful for manic creation, they likely supported his personal artistic expression as well. I understand how addictive it can become to feel your abilities unlocked and to feel yourself expressing yourself easier. As his fame increased—he enjoyed partying with celebrities during the golden age of the 1980s club scene.

    Jean Michel had a brief romance with Madonna

    “I would often wake up in the middle of the night and find him not in the bed next to me, but up, intent on painting, at 4 a.m., his face an inch from the canvas, in a trance. I would stand in disbelief watching him get to work whenever something excited him.” – Madonna


    He created over 600 paintings and 1,500 drawings and sculptures before his untimely death. That is from the consistent pursuit of expression of the darkness or tension of his perspective.


    In my opinion, you cannot truly experience his work from a print. You must see an original because it shows the texture of his mania. The pressure and tension of his feelings. A print cannot show you the emotion he infused into the canvas.

    Even if you don’t like his art, art is expression of experience or emotion. Life and feelings are complex, and we shouldn’t shy away from ugly-the worst thing would be art that stirs no thought or feelings. He is famous because he expressed the ugly and made a viewer truly feel something.