One recent evening whilst googling myself, I came across an 801a post from days past simply entitled “Ask Teen Works: I’m a Flirt” written by a jovial, slightly younger Andy Pressman. Sometimes, much like the author of my favorite blog, I wistfully look to the past — the heyday of the 801a blog, perhaps — and wonder what happened. Three (?) blogs later, am I really grown up? No more R. Kelly references? No more overly personal angsty anonymous over-sharing sessions? Just an internet to one day finally print out and graphic design to think about?

It seems like just yesterday (though it was over a year ago) I found a special new home in 801a. We’ve laughed, quizzed, Bjorked, learned, loved. We’ve dealt with economic crises big and small. We’ve bought iPhones (except me!), foolishly antagonized strangers (who have also bought iPhones). We’ve learned about the internet, reported on celebrity comings and goings in Dumbo, raved.

The question that really plagues me is, of course, bigger than our little office. To get back to Lindsay Lohan’s original unexplored topic, is it even possible to feel grown up, an “outsider” perhaps (preferably in a Ponyboy-esque ‘nothing gold can can stay’ type way rather than a special private DJ booth setup at a Samantha Ronson event L. Lo way), and to still feel the same thrill that, say, the ‘Tusk’ documentary once brought? How can we mature without losing all the effusive excitement of youth?

I am putting on the Tusk documentary now. I have some thinking to do.

–

This morning as I commuted via G train to fair Dumbo, I perused Sunday’s bargain basement impulse buy, issue #4/5 of a 1982 zine called Re/Search that featured William S. Burroughs and Throbbing Gristle.

A month or two ago for some reason—Health was opening up for Trent Reznor maybe, intriguing?—I decided to listen to Nine Inch Nails, which led me to think of a boy I used to hang out with in high school and some of college, admittedly my only real experience with this music. We’d drive around rural Pennsylvania in his fixed-up Audis and Saabs listening to Throbbing Gristle and KMFDM and My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult. He was calm-verging-on-boring, with Aryan features so cool and delicate they still inspire some romantic regret, but he loved Industrial music.

An excerpt from this interview with Throbbing Gristle on page 66 from 1981:

GEN: We just have a very simple philosophy, which is that we always think what we want to do next… We look at our record collection, or whatever’s going on, and we decide what we personally would like to have or possess as a record, or a magazine, and then, if nobody else is doing it, then we’ll do it. And with the records that we do, usually we tend to—if we’re not sure—contradict whatever we did last time, and it seems to work quite well.

Most of us are quite good at predicting what people will expect, and then the four of us, between us, can usually confuse that expectation, with a little discussion. We do a lot of talking first.

COSEY: Besides that, there’s no point in repeating yourself either. If you’ve got one thing on record, there’s no point in recording the same kind of thing again!

As I transferred to the A train, I felt overcome by a feeling of nostalgia for a time when I perhaps aspired to this sentiment. I obviously wasn’t making music — it had more to do with certain ideas about communication via media / art / design that we hope to explore more on our Rumors blog in the near future. Maybe happy maturity involves being all grown up and staying an outsider—outside even yourself—for most nights? How can we stop repeating ourselves and make the fantasy objects we actually wish existed? How do we continue attempting to articulate our own idealized worlds?

In the last couple of weeks my loving look back to the early nineties has sometimes brought a tear (of joy, of course) to my eye. Witness the journey:

- a few weeks ago, Renda brought her old cds to the office. I filled in some of the gaps in my nineties music collection, including: the complete Beat Happening discography, a random Bratmobile album, Slanted and Enchanted, and some later Belle and Sebastian. That weekend, at an unrelated brunch, the formation of a Vaselines “tribute” band was discussed. Look out for us (Man / Boy) in Summer 08 when we tackle the Vaselines 19 songs.

- one Sunday morning, while riding the subway listening to the aforementioned Bratmobile album, I realized that although Riot Grrrl as a philosophy was hugely influential to me as a middle schooler, the music itself was not to a large extent, uh, listenable. (Disclosure: While in middle school I tried to form a riot grrrl band. It was fun but didn’t last long. The drummer had every distortion pedal known to man, and I liked that part a lot.)

- this led later that day to the attempted rental of the (not-so, sadly) classic romance Untamed Heart. For those of you unfamiliar with this 1993 gem starring Christian Slater, Marissa Tomei, and Rosie Perez, it’s set in snowy Minneapolis. Christian plays a busboy with major social anxiety – he doesn’t speak to anyone. We later learn that he is an orphan and he grew up thinking he had a monkey heart. Really! And Marissa Tomei, the too-nice girl-next-door, falls for him big time. It’s so good and heartbreaking and weird. There is no movie like this one.

- Sadly, the video store didn’t stock this film (”I’ve worked here for a long time, and no one’s EVER asked for Untamed Heart,” said the clerk. He knew everything about the movie, however, including the original title The Baboon Heart, which we both agreed would have been better.). Instead I rented Singles, which is much more fun to watch in your twenties than your teens. I also BOUGHT Untamed Heart (which you are free to borrow!) and …

- Don’t Need You: The Herstory of Riot Grrrl , a documentary as good as it sounds. I was TOTALLY inspired by Kathleen Hanna, her first Bikini Kill concert in D.C., Ian McKaye talking about how she killed it. I was totally inspired by the riot grrrl convention, the riot grrrl manifesto, the zine-making, etc. I am so happy to be reminded of these things, and somewhat sad that I was too young for this at the time.

- Last but not least, in the spirit of all this goodness, I revisited my Sassy collection. Sassy, perhaps the most important publication for young women of a certain age and interest level between 1988 and 1994, has been sitting preserved on my bookshelf for the last 13 years. I discovered in this recent perusal not one but two gems from the October 1990 issue. 1) A Twin Peaks inspired fashion shoot. 2) Ian Svenonius as Sassiest Boy in America. This confirms my suspicions that Sassy was perhaps the best thing that could ever have happened to me. I have been excited to share these discoveries with others, including some 90s DC’ers, who had indeed heard of this Sassiest Boy in America article, but never seen the artifact. They say they remembered that haircut.

All in all, the nineties are alive in our hearts and minds, and maybe better than we remember.

I visited the Guggenheim yesterday for the final day of the Richard Prince retrospective. Afterwards I tried to find more quiet contemplation uptown, resulting in a visit to the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, which is undergoing a significant amount of construction following a fire in 2001.

The work that resonated with me most in Spiritual America —though very different than the rest of the show—was Prince’s photo series “Untitled (Upstate).” About 5 years ago, BIG magazine released its Upstate NY issue (#56) . According to the synopsis on the site, “As a separate country, Upstate New York is ripe for BIG exploration. Its visual language is replete with irony, contrast, and anachronistic moments. Its history is defined more often by troughs than peaks — not the bland trajectory of growth and progress other “resort” areas share. Its rituals are compelling — from weekenders’ frenzied escapes to locals’ lascivious pastimes. BIG Upstate will revolve around these contrasts: old made new, ugly made beautiful, the dilapidated preserved.”

This issue arrived on the newsstands when I was an impoverished college student who couldn’t really afford the $30 cover price, so I didn’t purchase the magazine, which was probably a mistake since I think about it all the time. My hazy recollection of the introduction contained a statement about how the issue was and wasn’t specific to New York state – every state or metropolitan area has an “upstate”, and that the upstate exists as this universal, American other. Even after eight years in New York, I still consider this place home.

The description from the Gugg discusses how this other American culture, explored throughout Prince’s work, plays out in the upstate photo series: “Training his camera on the local environment, he inventories the signs of a languishing culture: junk-laden backyards, tire planters, graffitied shacks, rusting carcasses of old automobiles, above-ground pools wrapped for winter, lone basketball hoops in grassy fields, and empty highways leading to nowhere in particular. In images that are at once melancholic and strangely transcendent, the Untitled (upstate) photographs capture a below-the-radar vernacular that remains outside the aesthetics of mainstream pop culture.”

The photographs Prince’s upstate photo series aren’t particularly groundbreaking, but alongside works like “Cowboys” and “Girlfriends” (the “gangs” were pretty amazing), a particular viewpoint emerges about the utter weirdness of the American experience. This America, a perverted compendium of subcultures, is fraught with an idealized cowboy culture epitomized by Marlboro Men and Ronald Reagan, bikers and their girlfriends, drag racers, off-color jokes and Catskill comedians, pulp novels, sexualized prepubescent girls, autographed headshots, Sponge-Bob Squarepants, rock and roll, hippies. What Prince is showing us in his detached way is beautiful and warped and disturbing but human.

After The Richard Prince Experience I took a walk northwest, and ended up on 110th and Amsterdam. During my first year in New York, I spent 6 weeks of my foundation drawing course inside the Cathedral trying to understand the structure of the arches and vaults while tourists walked by and commented on my work. I remember this being extremely traumatic – I was not only insecure about my draftsmanship, but also about my own spirituality. I was freshly arrived from rural America, and to me, churches were places meant for praying, not drawing or photographing or buying trinkets at the gift shop. Something in me changed during this time. When I came back yesterday, I discovered that the entrance was now gray and dismal and temporary, and a photograph replaced what was once a breathtaking view of the sanctuary.

thanks to Riley!

Note: This post was written in early December, but lingered in drafts for a month. Read it anyway! I revisit Philadelphia! PS: Check out this crazy Mummer’s Day parade video featuring my old crew dancing off global warming!

Train travel has never been so fast, so glamorous. Last weekend I took Amtrak for the very first time to my favorite neighbor to the south, Philadelphia.

I’ve spent a lot of time – I would guess the equivalent of one full week of my life — on New Jersey Transit trains , and after one ride on Amtrak, I am hooked. Expensive, yes, but so speedy! So efficient! Lovely! Apparently there are snack cars, and a quiet car (neither of thse were functional on my train). A brief recap in pictures:

Amtrak has its own in-train magazine. Colin Powell was on the cover. I am so excited to have a real ticket!

Leaving New Jersey: This sign reads “Trenton Makes – The World Takes”, which is always my favorite part of the trip. This is actually someone else’s seat. She had a small child with her – usually a recipe for traveling misery – and it wasn’t even annoying!

When I lived in Philadelphia, I was a member of an art collective called Space 1026. Once I arrived in Philadelphia, I went to the annual art auction at my old studio space. It was homey and fun, like the night before Thanksgiving at the local bar in your hometown with your high school friends.

Paddles for the art auction at Space 1026.

This was the most heated face-off of the auction. This young woman was apparently on the phone with London. The bidding for Alex da Corte’s piece went up to $800. I stopped at $50.

This is Philadelphia: MCAD alum Andy Beach, auctioneer extrordinaire Todd Kimmel, unidentified girl, 1026ers Roman Hasiuk, Alex Lukas, (unidentified bald man), and Aryon Hostelon.

hollygressley@gmail.com

From Masayoshi Nakamura
To Holly Gressley
Date Nov 7, 2007 11:09 AM
Subject Re: hey there

awesome, yeah. we should be friends and make the outing happening
again sometimes! but not the sort of internet friend on myspace,
facebook, or linked-in or nuttin that we don’t actually communicate
or meet.

This is why Masa is a good person. Every time I get another Linked-In invitation I shed a baby tear.

(Link)

Holly S.’s post-feminist musings veer dangerously towards iVillage territory in “For the Guys”, her analysis of how happy relationships result from each partner meeting universal needs. Holly S., via Dr. Laura, identifies the essential ingredients to a successful relationship with her usual acuity:

Dr. Laura contends that for most men these needs are met through feeding their appetites for two main things: food and intimacy; that men are really basic and simple creatures in this regard. In short, feed these appetites and you’ll not only make him happy but yourself too. . . If you break down the caring for your man to include such a simple thing as cooking for him, you’re showing pampering and attention that tells him he means something to you. Guys like that and they’ll brag about it to their buddies that their woman is taking good care of them. The bragging and contentment is ten fold when the other need is met.

Recap: The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Guys like to brag about sex. Holly S. provides some simple instructions to men (and women – apparently she believes that we share some similarities) about how to sustain our relationships. Ladies: cook for your husband. Guys: say thank you, buy flowers for your wife, also buy her some stuff from AVON (coincidence? Holly S. is an AVON rep, apparently!), but don’t spend more than $20. Hint hint Blake, Holly S. would enjoy this birthstone necklace ($7.99!), some Skin So Soft body lotion ($9.99), or even this handsome 6-piece Nylon Bundle (a steal at $19.99).

Jewelry and flowers – contrary to popular belief – are NOT the only gifts for a woman… The women of the world who require pure diamonds and gold already have a lot of it and can easily afford it themselves.

Nice theory, but I’d have to disagree with Holly S. about her gift options: they definitely would not fill my “pamper reservoirs” for any period of time. I still believe that the best gift you can give a girl is never asking her to pay your rent.

Internet celebrity Andrew Sloat brought this flyer back from the AIGA conference on Tuesday.

He gave us a fine recap of a talk by the phenomenal Canadian typographer Marian Bantjes. Bantjes started out her talk by expressing astonishment to be there, and credited it to the fact that four years ago, she quit doing everything she had been working at and “followed her heart” – that is, she sold her design firm and started with her crazy beautiful typographic-inspired illustrations. Now she’s making amazing work, a super-success story. Inspired by both the HP flyer and Marian Bantjes, I got to thinking about following your heart.

On Following Your Heart: A conservation with myself.
What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?
Five years ago, the intern version of myself received some choice advice on my last day of work for Ryan McGinness. Over lunch, I asked him all kinds of questions about working, about how to find what you love in life, and be able to make the kinds of things that you want to make. Deep stuff, for sure. He told me to “follow your heart.” At the time, I thought this was the biggest cop-out of all time. About two years ago, I realized that it was actually pretty good advice, even though it’s a cliché. It’s really something to think about during trying times when you’re not sure what to do.

What do we mean when we say that we’ve followed our heart?
Yesterday, Renda said that computers can do almost anything. The only thing that they can’t do is love (CORRECTION: Andrew said this). I think she’s right. Computers definitely cannot follow their hearts.

But how would you define following your heart? What’s the difference between following your heart and simply taking action or taking risks?
This question is really about certainty versus uncertainty. It also has to do with the possibility of regret, and the degree of investment you have in your actions. There are times when it’s hard to be sure what to do. Perhaps there are two equally good options available to you. Perhaps the choice is between maintaining the status quo and abandoning it in favor of an uncharted future. Or maybe there is something you’ve been thinking about for a long time but are afraid to do. And a time comes to act upon something that’s only existed theoretically up until then. Where “following your heart” – versus simply taking risk or taking action (ie boldness, tk on the RSS feed) – comes into play is in the perceived degree of regret as a result of that very action. To employ another cliché, in order to follow your heart, you have to risk breaking your heart.

But how reliable is the heart anyway? Why should we trust in our hearts? What is a heart anyway, and why do we seem to think that it holds the solutions to our problems?
For these types of questions, it’s sometimes good to turn to poetry. I often think about part of a Dylan Thomas poem called “Should Lanterns Shine.”

“I have been told to reason by the heart,
But heart, like head, leads helplessly“

I have always thought that the implication here is that both heart and head are flawed and unreliable navigators. Here, reason and emotion are the two sides of a losing coin toss.
You can certainly follow your heart and fail. But if you fail while following your heart, you most likely won’t regret your action, only the mistakes made in the practice of that action. You acted upon what you knew to be true at that moment in time. And when you act upon truth, your action is genuine and – here we go again – heartfelt. The important part: you believed in something.
That faith gets at the crux of what following your heart means, and how you can do it. It’s when you do something because you have to, because it’s the only honest option, because the greater regret would be inaction rather than failure. People don’t usually look back wondering what would have happened if they would have stayed in their miserable situations.

How does one achieve the wisdom necessary to follow their heart?
First, you have to listen to your heart (self-assessment may be the most difficult part). Then you must follow your heart. No matter what happens, your heart will go on.

Oh man, before my first official Holly’s Corner post, my friend Lucas alerted me to something that has officially knocked my socks off: the Holly’s Corner Blog. I could never compete with this Holly. This blog basically covers everything that my Holly’s Corner would cover – Talent Holly, Spiritual Holly, Intellectual Holly, etc etc. She even made a better logo. Whoa. Oh well, I guess it’s now the companion piece to 801a.info.