Fun_LateNight3

This is the third in my Late Night Conversations series. They say Yale is famous for its Late Night Conversations you have among roommates and friends and stuff, but I've only been a part of about two or three in my entire time here, which is pretty ridiculous. It's so bad it's good, or at least it's comedically bad.

So anyway, I had my annual end of the year Late Night Conversations art session, as I was taking down my gallery show, which oddly enough took exactly one entire play of the Motion City Soundtrack LP cycle, minus Commit This To Memory, which is unavailable because my new laptop doesn't have iTunes yet and I haven't gotten around to transferring the album to Windows Media Player. I actually wanted to listen to as much of the Deltron 3030 album over YouChoob as possible, but couldn't get Internet in the basement. The title track indicates an incredible, must-hear story, though, and we're talking about rap, man. Rap sucks. Ok...usually. I like Del The Funky Homosapien. And I love (real) freestyling!

So, from the pin-wreckage of "I'm Uncomfortable and They're Making Me Do This" comes Zero Zetsubo. I heard a rumor he might not be in as grave a state as some may think...

Reuxben

Fun_LateNightToo

Captured via photographic technology, this is a kinda-sequel to last year's "This Is My Late Night Conversations;" it's actually a casualty of a social experiment I undertook junior year: I wanted to see if it would be possible to live with Yalies for a year and feel absolutely nothing towards them at year's end, like perfect strangers, meanwhile examining the emotions that come from self-imposed isolation.

The big goal was to see if by actively seeking and imposing isolation on myself, I could manipulate and master everything I've felt since Freshman Year, which I could then use to improve or inform my art since I feed off of my feelings to operate creatively, like an actor.

My suitemates seemed like nice enough people, but I did everything in my power to maintain that early unfamiliarity, since that would only leave room for isolation's misery and discord to form, if anything.

The golden rule was simple: Don't interact with them (not even visually) unless it's unavoidable. This was a response to how I would drop everything to interact with my Freshman Year suitemates.

My bid to stay emotionally uninvested in my junior year suitemates was a success: I don't know what three of the four(?) look like, and I can't match voices with faces.

In the process of avoiding them, there were some big misunderstandings that erupted over the year, but I chose not to clarify their confusion, letting them speculate all they wanted behind their paper-thin JE walls. They impressed me with some beautifully ugly passive-aggression that helped accomplish the main purpose of my experiment: to manipulate misery.

After one of their particularly painful, poignant moves, I stole away to WLH and drew on some blackboards, riffing off of pure emotion. The result doesn't look too good, as is usually how that sort of drawing goes, but it felt great. Really great.

I love Yale. I loathe May 2010.

Reuxben

Fun_Boarding2

Play that funky doodle, whiteboards.

So this was from the night after my last final, three or four in the morning. I blasted music in the senior seminar room and drew spontaneously because I realized that there I was, happy that all my schoolwork was finally done, but with no one to celebrate with, so this was as much of a party as I was getting.

They say at Yale you'll have profound, late night conversations; that was definitely true last year, but this year drawing and music's all I got. So this is my late-night-conversations.

Fly Home.

From right before leaving for Christmas Break.

Mummy.

Feeling gloomy that day.

Kelly Study Break.

This is the biggest drawing I've ever done of her.

It was funny how I'd get stares from passersby outside the seminar room's massive windows, as they saw this giant drawing behind me.

Recharge.

From after Thanksgiving break, gritting my teeth for another stay in Swing Space.

Robot inspired by the Iron Giant.

Someone wrote me an insightful little comment under my guy's bitter welcome message.

Is it Over Yet?

From the midsts of that happy little episode I call Room Draw 08.

My gosh, I suck at life.

Reuxben