ALEXIA
When I grow up, I want to be Grace Jones. Towering, free, beautiful, admired and longed for. I’m want her spirit and soul to be mine. She reminds me of my mother and her mother and her sisters – even the one who died before I was born. Grace Jones is the sum of the women on my mother’s side of my family, and I can’t wait to join their ranks. That’s what matters in life to me: family, reading, art, music, film, nature, pot-smoking friends, advancing my artistic career, embracing the schizophrenia of Los Angeles, and doing it with the fearsome style and class of the women I love, including that goddess I’ve never met whose fame, fortune, and glamour were well established before I was an unplanned twinkle in my mother’s eye. Note that money, property, and the pursuit of either were not mentioned in that list. People never believe me when I say this, but I really don’t like money.
WHAT?? You’re lying. You’re crazy. You’re just bitter because you’re poor. You’re (insert opinion here).
I’ve heard it all. I did not realize that I felt that way until a couple of years ago, though. I graduated in 2006 from USC, a prestigious educational institute known for its network and for churning out WINNERS. My resume was the bomb, I had affiliated myself with great organizations, and I was ready to take on the world. With my BA in Fine Arts and minor in Animation, I knew that within a few months, I would have a nice entry-level job at a pre-production studio or post-production studio or art gallery or design firm or non-profit for the arts or… After over 20 interviews in those first months, nothing. I have been a model, a waitress, a catering server, a bartender, a visual merchandiser at American Girl Place, the office manager of and personal assistant to the CEO of an online start-up with shady business practices, a hostess, and currently I am a long-term substitute teacher of ceramics. All to pay the bills. On the flip side I have started a photo series about sisters, performed for artists, applied for artist residencies, and joined a performace art group called VOS with my homegirls Peggy and Amanda from art school.
It is hard for me to live in a society such as ours: the constant message is Money!Money!Money! and Things! and Status! and if you don’t have Money!Things!Status! or at least aspire to, then you’re a freak. Money is boring and a stupid concept to me. Because without it, you’re not allowed to eat. You’re not allowed to have lasting clothing or footwear if you do not have enough. You’re not allowed to have a half-way decent place to dwell. Those are the certain inalienable rights that all people are entitled to. Yet this is the society that I live in, and I deal with it by Craigslisting and occasionally visiting the campus career center to see if they have come up with a better way to help alumni other than attending mixers and posting my resume to alumni-only job websites – I gave it a try and it yielded no results. But for real, though. As long as I can have one good meal a day and talk about art and excercise my photography muscles and dance to house music at bars with no cover and make art, I’m good. I just wish I could convince the world at large to change its ways to suit mine. Fat chance. My newest hustle is finding a halfway tolerable weathy man to marry and convince to be my patron, but I suck at flirting. Plus, I would have to sleep with him, and that’s just too close to prostitution (which should be legalized and then controlled, if you want my opinion as an aside) for me.
Ultimate goals: to live my life making art and talking about it, embodying the characteristics of those hard-ass and beautiful women, and Grace Jones. Any suggestions?