This whole collection started with a quote. Rei Kawakubo, the founder of Comme des Garçons, was asked in an interview how she would like to be remembered. She answered with: "I want to be forgotten." I found that to be such a strange and interesting thing to say, especially for someone so devoted to the arts.
Can you imagine giving yourself completely to something, not for any money or immortalisation, but because you truly loved it?
Not many of us are that lucky. I came into design school thinking I would be an Illustration major. There has always been a battle between my passion and my future, and in the end, I switched to Communication Design. But I am grateful, because I treasure the arts even more so now that I am not always so consumed by it. I love the moments when I can draw, paint, or sit and write a poem. And I get to do those things not for any grand purpose. Not because I intend to make a living out of them. Or because I think I may be discovered one day past my end date, and become immortal in name. Making art now is like writing poetry. I do it for no other purpose other than because I love it dearly.
This collection is very clearly an homage to the arts. In 2018, I was in the biggest slump I ever had, what with college applications, rejections, and exams. I was upset, sad, and frustrated all the time with myself, and art became something that I almost couldn't bear to look at or do, because I would just be reminded of how bad I thought I was. I knew it wasn't the end of the world if things didn't go perfectly smoothly, but it felt like it. I wanted to tear my brain out and replace it with something more mathematical, more scientific, or maybe just fall asleep and never wake up.
The past year has been a quieting experience, which is a funny thing to say, because I'm probably in one of the loudest places in the world. In my freshman year, I made so much art that I was proud of, and not because they were masterpieces, but because I cared about them. I fell in love with it again, and learned to appreciate it in a way that didn't involve tearing myself down in the process. I also met people, some of them downright horrendous, but others so beautiful and kind that they sometimes made my heart hurt. And I got to know myself, alone – the simple forgettable things that turn not into a concrete memory, but a feeling. Like walking through Chelsea on winter nights, and I am overcome with a purple euphoria. Or evenings at the Lincoln Center, filled with so much beauty, love, and magic. The narrower streets of Soho, void of any people. And always, the taste of a Lady M crepe cake. I rarely share them with others, because I've come to realise that they are not explainable. And I have no obligation to explain myself.
I am proud of this small collection, as always. And as always, there are hidden things throughout :) I doubt this will be my last one, but if it is, then I am happy, and if it's not, then that only means there's more to come.
Read slowly. Hope you'll like it.
Love always,
Ivy
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THE NAMELESS MUSEUM (2019)
Poetryi have lived, and i have loved, and i have made art.
