I walked away from closing one of my jobs down (which included literally packing everything in boxes) with an armload of National Geographics for collage making - which many (white) collagers probably know is like paper gold.
One of the side effects of my chosen thesis (currently condensed to "an attempt at amplifying the archetypal figures which come from and speak to marginalized populations") is that - as an integral part of its nature - it forces me to examine the images I am choosing to put forward in my collages in a way I never had before, and from this new perspective National Geographic is deeply disturbing.
Most of the people in National Geographic don't look like me, you see. Most of their skin is brown because the skin of most of the people in the world is brown. Even the people who have a similar skin tone to mine wear clothes which do not resemble mine, live lives with few ties to mine, have souls which are not a part of me outside of the more philosophical implications embraced branches of Buddhism, Hinduism, and the White New Age Movements in the US.
I find myself looking at the images which draw me with new eyes. Where lurk the artifacts of psyche which dehumanize these people whose photographs I had never before thought twice about cutting up for my own purposes? Can I find them all, or is this a twisted treasure hunt without either clue or end?
Sunday, October 5, 2008
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