icynderbolt

[icynderbolt]

Citation list:

Martinez, Melanie. “Evil || Melanie Martinez || Lyrics.” YouTube, lyricalizz, 7 Apr. 2023, youtu.be/WqaGHV2Anjo?si=S0eLokkm6_tc3ydv.

Martinez, Melanie. “Melanie Martinez - Dollhouse (Official Music Video).” YouTube, Melanie Martinez, 10 Feb. 2014, youtu.be/HcVv9R1ZR84?si=M1RH6_tuFBn5ef8C.

Martinez, Melanie. “Melanie Martinez - Wheels on the Bus [Official Music Video].” YouTube, Melanie Martinez, 10 Oct. 2019, youtu.be/5Q_q9cq3B5A?si=6S_KCPVPZUWGar_Y.

Martinez, Melanie. “Mrs. Potato Head || Melanie Martinez Lyrics.” YouTube, fangirl lyrics, 15 June 2017, youtu.be/0vzPjPGl3as?si=BLBSIpfELJSJFNAw.

“Melanie Martinez - Cry Baby (Lyrics).” YouTube, NewMelody, 10 June 2020, youtu.be/2d9FisOSTDw?si=9MJCI7Kh4XLw0lg1.

“Melanie Martinez Goes through Cry Baby Track-by-Track (Part 1).” YouTube, Fuse, 25 Nov. 2016, youtu.be/5o4EeaejWoU?si=8acm-CRV0DfEPS4P.

“Melanie Martinez Goes through Cry Baby Track-by-Track (Part 2).” YouTube, Fuse, 25 Nov. 2016, youtu.be/iswOmDPI_Pw?si=8OH6AsrcyPUOsHqT.

“Melanie Martinez on Her Empowering Cry Baby Character.” YouTube, Fuse, 25 Nov. 2016, youtu.be/EZr3T0SIj3o?si=0aVkrYCugCqo1Ylr.

“Pin de {~sketch~} En Pins by You En 2024.” Pinterest, 7 May 2024, pin.it/1D6Mtoiwh.

Stevens, Tom. “Therapist Reacts to Melanie Martinez- Mrs. Potato Head.” YouTube, Reaction Therapy, 2 Aug. 2023, youtu.be/KEYyhYk96Ss?si=D2khy2N_iF1OOxlC.

[icynderbolt]

Reflection:

Why my theme is what it is:

I chose "Re:vealed" to reflect the psychological stand point of art and how, though beautiful, has a reason for its creation. Art is a from of expression. Painting, writing, singing, dance, music composition, and its sub-categories are its different languages. Laid bare and naked, displayed for the public eye. Inhibitions, hopes, dreams and insecurities allow all kinds of noses to peer into the soul of a fellow human. The "vealed" play on words is a paid tribute to my gorey interests in dissections, biology and true crime documentaries. An interest I did not share openly... until now.

How my writing changed or improved:

My writing this year had undergone a crazed metamorphosis filled with uncertainty, self-critisicm and mental breakdowns. I enetered grade 12 confident, my 93 in grade 11 English a badge of honour. It shone bright with achievement and Grade 12 Philosophy and Classical Civ only futher fueled my love for the craft. Flowery langauge and sophisticated synonyms were my forte. Now, I don't even know what my writing style is anymore. Though I do have weaknesses in my writing, Grade 12 English bruised more than my ego. It affected my anxiety and will to write. What was the point? I had to follow the writing style of a teacher I never had and who never taught me what they wanted. I tried to take what I could. I used their class as practise for univerity's hardships. But, when you have to write for a scholarship on the due day, finish an assignment for a writing class placed back-to-back to your morning's torture and study for an in class essay for said morning's torture, it becomes overwhelming. I recieved many complemets from peers and teachers for my writing, but I remian weary, thinking they only say those empty praises to be kind. Yet, Creative Writing has given me time to reflect. Writing was a way for me to express my personality. Creative Writing has helped that trait survive.

So, to summerize, my writing has been beaten, bloodied and exfoliated, but it’s in its training arc.

My most proud work of writing:

"Gaia's sorrow." A small, insignificant poem, but it garnered a lot of respect from my peers. It was one of our very first prompt assignments in class where paint swatches were handed to each table group. Each group was given a colour scheme at random and, under a time limit of 10 - 15 minutes, they had to come up with a poem collectively pieced together by each member. Our group, who was unfortunatelty seated in the "cursed corner" (eastablished by our teacher to be the corner where so many of her previous students continuously failed her courses) suffered in a panick. Art block graced us with its presence and we were oh so very screwed. We did not want to follow in the footsteps of our predecessors. Yet, as the timer tick-tocked closer to its end, a bomb ready to explode, we were still stuck. We scrambled to our notebooks, hopeful that whatever mumbo jumbo barfed itself onto our pages would turn into something nice- In the blink of an eye, it was time to present. Our entire class was finished their prompt. We hadn't even started. So, in 2 superhuman seconds, I collaborated our last minute random sentence ideas into a coherent poem and had finished right when it was our turn to present. Our poem was one of the class favourites. Since then, my close school friend, Ronald, would not stop asking me "what I was" and that, by the end of the semester, he would figure me out. I laughed so hard. It was the best compliment because, as an artist who hates her art every single time she stares at it, I felt my work was actually... good.

Though not much had been written and though it wasn't a long or intricate piece of literature (like my slam poem and short story), "Gaia's Sorrow" was the most sentimental and impactful piece to me. My most proud work of writing.

My personal mark out of 100:

I don’t know whether to be humble or proud. When asked to complement myself, I shy away, thinking it’s an act of sinful pride. If I beat myself down for a quality that is truly admirable, I may come to believe those negatives as reality.

The mark I’d give my writing is not high. I like it (my writing), but it (my writing) needs improvement. I compare myself a lot to others and grades are the most common comparisons of both status and intelligence. I find my writing has undergone too much change in such a short time (to the point where I notice nothing but the flaws) so I cannot help but rate my summative an 80/100.

My writing is:

Too chaotic (as seen with my blog)

too many run-on sentences and allusions and bubbly words overtake credability and actual information.

Dull/lackluster (seen with my imagism poems)

The lines could have been strung together with more movement and grace to convey the images more beautifully, but they stand vague and rigid. They do not explaning the settings on an emiotion level. They state the obvious like a formal essay.

Too cut up. Fluidity was a case thrown out the window (seen with my slam poem)

Obvious and abrupt cut-offs. I tried to relay the different sides to depression (body dismorphia, the unknowingness of having depression, food disorders, suicidal thoughts, joyful exteriors, numbness, etc.) but they do not transfer into eachother well (AKA the sections do not flow together as one poem. Instead, when both read and performed, the poem clearly sounds cut up).

They have good synonyms and vocabulary, as well as good variety in length of sentences. But, in terms of style, I would take marks off if I was my own teacher.

[icynderbolt]

Artist Review:

Melanie Martinez uses her music to highlight hidden messages, unearth dark societal truths and express her inner vulnerabilities via vibrant colour-schemed music videos and upbeat melodies. This is done by her to portray the expectations of societal niches and to lure her target audience into seeing two sides of the same theme. Certain topics are not entirely representative of their true meanings, and are however displayed in different ways to appeal to a greater audience and to fabricate a false belief of purity and comfort.

A former contestant on the voice, Melanie jump started her career. Combining her passion for artistic photography with her musical talent, the character "Crybaby" was born.

Melanie's persona, Crybaby, is illustrated through the trilogy as living through a cycle. Growing from childhood, maturing into adolescents and passing onto a purgatory-like plane, waiting to be reincarnated. These transitions could be taken literally as the evolution of life but can also signify the metamorphosis of expression relayed in art through personal experiences. The artist develops alongside their creation.

An interview of Melanie in the first phase of her trilogy; Crybaby Album. She goes on to explain her motives behind her first album and the inspirations behind her songs.

Crybaby was the first song Melanie released. She used herself as her muse, turning a name called onto her as an insult into a beautiful sanctification.

A "Crybaby" is someone who is overly emotional and cries over any inconvenience. They possess a gentle heart and are often ridiculed for their constant flood of tears no matter how uncontrollable they are. Melanie empowers the bullied by saying instead that crybabies have big hearts and that there is no need to feel ashamed for your sensitive nature.

"Dollhouse" deals with the sacrilegious motif of ugly truths behind beautiful, fabricated personas. What we put on display for the public is not what usually lies concealed behind closed doors.

Melanie retells the story of a broken family keeping up appearances of perfection to thwart off scorns and skepticisms made by the public. The need to be "perfect" is a common trait found in cultures around the world. If not maintained -the pretty face and makeup-society will shun those who cannot comply to the requirements of an over-exaggerated smile.

Mrs. Potato head sings of beauty standards. However, Melanie Martinez delves deeper into the sexual connotation of changing one's appearance and the motto taught to young girls that "the prettier you are, the more love you deserve." Luring them into a life of plastic mutations.

"Mrs. Potato Head" was the chosen title as whoever was unfortunate enough to be in this role, would be changed and molded to the abuser's preferred design. A toy in the eyes of her child-like husband.

Additionally to the above mentioned, a therapist analyzes and dismembers "Mrs. Potato Head" to comment on the psychological behaviours and diagnoses presented in both the video and lyrics.

"Wheels On The Bus" directly correlates to quick maturity. A journey from one phase to another, this song signifies development in both life and in Melanie's music. She uses it to ease her audience into her new album, "K-12," which encompasses a new form of expression whilst representing the struggles of adolescence.

"PORTALS," the final album to Melanie's trilogy is not as direct in its lyrics as its two predecessors. The lyrics do not offer straightforward symbolisms but are instead discrete and vague. This album taps into the theme of the "out of worldly" and stands as a form of describing the oddities of the afterlife and reincarnation.

Compared to "Crybaby" and "K-12," "PORTALS" follows the alternative music style of indie rock.

[icynderbolt]

Blog: The Process of Creating Art

Definition:

Blogs are written as opportunities to develop one's thinking, document instruction and display the author's thoughts at that moment (using a melange of formal/informal writing). So, I will be using this golden-ticket of an opportunity to spur on and on about the hardships one suffers when faced with the immensely difficult task of creating art. Cooperating with the artistic ideas marinating in an artist's head whilst attempting to recreate even a fraction of its original greatness onto a physical canvas of any should be a major studied in university for its incomprehensible complexity...what a tongue twister to get a point across.

For me, in this case, my face is the victim.

Blogs, unlike common articles, use media (photos and videos) alongside their written content.

When creating art,  our emotions, cognitive abilities and mental health are affected. Could be a theraputic release. Could be what gets you into therapy.

The original concept for this piece had simply a blue sky, slight rays of sunlight protruding from behind a black box/rectangle and a few fluffy clouds. 1 hour in and I ended up looking like the Simpsons' opening. I was beyond frustrated and was prepared to wipe my face clean of my disgrace, but "trust the process" is like a sickening cough syrup. At first it has you on the verge of vomiting. If you trust it and take it consistently, however, you come out stronger and happier in the end. Therefore, when trudging through the lengthy process of painting on my face with stain-imprinting face paints for three long hours, the image I had to portray "claustrophobia" came to be and jumped up from a 4/10 to an 8/10.

What I have learned is that art takes patience. If the artist wishes to execute their dream, the longer they take may help, but it depends most on the amount of trust they have within themselves.

The process of creating art may take hours, days, months or even mere minutes depending on what you're signing yourself up for. Every artist is different when it comes to their creation process. It all relies on the load, the artist's experience with the craft, their patience, and whether it is the artist's first time bringing that particular idea to life.

I, for one, suffered with this idea.

I had school the next day.

When creating this look, (following the guidelines of my inktober phobia challenge) I had to recreate the fear of drowning and deep waters; Thalassophobia. In my mind, immediately, the idea of a skull with water droplets came to me. I scoured the internet and prayed to the gods of Pinterest that they bestow upon me a muse to feed my inspiration. This time around, luckily, I had found the exact reference I had in mind. It was as though someone had peered into my future and plucked it straight out from my brain to make my life easier for me in that future moment... The problem was, however, my overestimation in myself. I started painting at midnight, ended at 4 am. I had focused too much on my details and got overwhelmed by the look. I had contemplated passing out on the bathroom floor for a quick power-nap (thinking new found art abilities would wake up alongside me after 15 minutes) and even debated sleeping in the first place for fear of missing school and receiving a good beating from my mother's slipper. It was not looking good for my exhaustion. I learned, from that experience, that it is good to believe in your capabilities and to take on new challenges in bringing dreams to life, but plans should be made. Time management is a good skill for an artist to possess. Duly noted.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!! 2 hours of work done only to further state the obvious. I am a clown now both inside and out.

[icynderbolt]

Imagism:

Imagism (a form of poetry born in the early 20th century) focuses on describing the mood, tone and setting of a given image. The poem itself is rather vague and ambiguous as the details are left to the reader's imagination. The artist uses the audience's theories as an extension of their art piece. Imagist poems favour free verse.

Cold-blooded, slick scales pluck dying feathers

Entangled mid-air, gazes remain frozen and fixed

A tango of predator and prey.

Photo Prompt:

She looks on, lost in the "what could have been."

He sits content with his "what is," holding the hand of another. Clear. Alas, the windows to the soul forfeit a lie against his current disposition. Blurred.

She is veiled, muted to emotion and decision. Her person drapes an animosity dulled against the sob beside her.

She is glad for the transaction; the sole joy at this occasion.

He confides in the feelings quenched deep within. Churning, they turn his insides out onto a distorted visage.

They pity the bride. Spewing sorrows and sobs for the one who cannot cry on her own behalf.

[icynderbolt]

Slam Poetry:

Conventions: Slam poetry is a performance based writing style meant to showcase raw emotion from the perspective of a marginalized community. In writing, slam poems are not commonly meant to rhyme. The oral presentation of it creates and relays the melody instead. A slam poem could be read at any pace, however, it must be performed under a time limit (a competition made art form). Common traits of slam poetry performance are: the projection of voice, rhythm, body language, pausing, word play, vocalization/drawing out out of emotion, and elements of music.

Depression

What is this? What is this feeling? Why do I feel so alone? Why do I feel like drowning myself And never swimming up to the shore? Why do I feel so empty inside? Like a hollow tree that is broken inside. Why do I feel like a ship at sea? Forfeiting my life to the waves coming at me. Why do I feel like crying all night? Only to wake up to tears in my eyes. Why do I feel like a small candle light that has been dimmed by Fear, anxiety, loneliness, guilt, and hopelessness of the dark, dark night? Why do I feel like there's something behind me?! Crawling up my spine and trying to hide me. Why do I feel so pulled to the dark? Do I feel protected?! Or do I not? My heart is blank and it cannot feel. I have lost all sense of anything that is real. My hands look small and my eyes seem large. What is happening to me?! What is wrong?! Why does the world look so dull at this time? So gray and so black No colours to shine. All the happiness is drained and the joy is gone. All that is left is my sadness that lives on. I’m withering, shriveling, and drying up inside. My body feels as though it is slowly beginning to die. I am given all this food and there is so much to eat! But I starve myself instead. Yet when I cry I feel so bad So I eat ice cream in bed. I force myself to close my eyes and think of something nice. But all that ever comes to mind are the sick and horrid thoughts from when IT came to life. Why has the sun disappeared?! Or is it just midnight? I can’t tell because I can't sleep at night. I see shadows and I hear whispers whenever I slide into bed. They tell me to do such things I wish they'd never said. My mind is shutting down and I'm falling into an eternal slumber. I am afraid I won't be able to wake up after all has been discovered. Someone has built these castle walls deep within my mind. And they have succeeded at keeping me locked inside. My friends have left me and my family won’t listen, They caused all these thoughts and have forced me to give in. I lost all connections I cut all ties. What more do I need to finally close my eyes?! I’m tired of life and I’m tired of living. What else can I do when there’s nothing I'm given. No ideas No solutions All I have are dark illusions. I have nowhere to go. I have nowhere to stay. My life has been turned away so there’s no way I can remain. I run outside, right into the crowd, Looking for some help as I walk around. I don’t know what I’m thinking and I don’t know what to do, But this voice inside me has got all the clues. It tortures me and it punishes me. IT pleasures itself with my painful and violent screams. “Just give me the hints and stop tormenting me!” I must silence this voice and stop its cruel schemes! But what can I do if it’s IT against me?! I look up at the sky and think of what to do... I climb up a roof, Jump off, “See you soon…” I look back at the things that I went through. And now I'm grateful for what I'm about to do. A loud crash from down below. You wondered what it was, And now you know. My life was a miserable lie And now I have died. I have numbed all my pain, And now my suffering is gone. I have taken away my misery, And now I am gone. What was this feeling that had made me suffer? The one I felt. The one that had made my life tougher. I had asked myself until this day. “What was this horrid pain?!” And then I knew, Once it was gone That it was none other than DEPRESSION.

[icynderbolt]

Title: Re:vealed

Theme: How art reveals the desires, emotions, vulnerabilities and personality of an individual.

My piece delves into the different stages of an artist's life (showcasing the development of both their interests and character via the evolution of their artistic expression) as well as the varying emotions and secrets caught in external environments. The theme of this chapbook revolves around displaying hidden motifs.

The title “Re:velead” stands as a play on words. When sounded out, “revealed” is symbolic of the truth behind an individual’s personality being brought out to the public. The separation of “veal” translates to the inner meat -the vulnerabilities of oneself- being shown off.

Art displays the concealed. Art unveils the hidden.

In this work, my writing will be the complete print-out of my thoughts. The never-ending rants, the long run-on sentences and the continuous references to pop culture I find hilarious. They are me and my expression; inner meat ripped out and open for you to taste, take apart, study and understand. Bon Appetit to my re:vealed artistry.