Emily Ratajkowski - her body, her mind, her images

I began my day with this long piece by Emily Ratajkowski.

It is quite powerful and provokes the reader to think. It was also quite confusing - just like most things in this modern world. Everything is nuanced and layered, and takes a bigger brain than mine to comprehend. 

One of the first things I thought of was how strangely art has evolved over the years. The artist Richard Prince had an exhibition where he blew up pictures of celebrities from Instagram - and he didn't even take those pictures or recreated them in an artistic way. All he did was leave a comment on the pictures and print them in really massive sizes to display as 'art'. Emily had to buy her own picture for 80,000 USD. 

This really makes me question capitalism and art. Also, why does it feel like something only a white person would do? Really strange.

Now let's get to the serious issues. The article was penned by Emily about feeling a distinct lack of agency when it comes to her body and, more specifically, the photographs of her body. In different specific incidents, she highlighted the confusion and pain she went through when people took over how they used her images for unintended purposes. 

I had to sit back and question all the preconceived notions I had about celebrity and their rights to their pictures. When I first read about Emily being sued because she posted a picture of hers, on Instagram, taken by a photographer, I didn't stop to think about it for more than the one minute it took for me to decide I was thoroughly confused. So, Emily - the subject - posted her own picture - taken by someone else - on her own Instagram for non-commercial reasons- gets sued by said photographer because it is HIS picture that SHE is using?? WHAT MODERN SHITBALL IS THIS? She was sued for 150,000 USD. 

I'm not sure if other readers got any clarity at the end of the piece.

There's another painful experience of having her private pictures leaked. This led her to pay up 10,000 USD for another picture of hers rather than risk another nightmare of having other private photos leaked to the public.

Emily also wrote about her experience as a young model, working to be financially independent and confident in her body. She writes with honesty about wanting to be better, to be the best model for the photographer. She hadn't been told that particular photoshoot was a lingerie shoot but she didn't have a problem with it. She was later shot naked by the photographer. This made me pause. I wonder how many young models are exploited like this- not given complete information about the work they're hired to do, then slowly (kind of coerced into) asked to pose nude. This Jonathan Leder turned out to be a bigger creep later on as he tried to take advantage of the fact that she was drunk. He resurfaced years later as he prints books containing Emily's polaroid shots from that photoshoot. The original photoshoot was for a magazine but she did not consent to him using her pictures for his own books. She tried to stop him but he got away and published three books of her photographs as well as several reprints and an exhibition.

How does a male photographer assume he has the right to commercially use images of a model who did not consent to them being used for purposes other than originally intended? Oh, he did bring out a consent form that was supposedly signed by Emily's agent. However, the agent denies signing anything so.........

Ironically, she didn't get paid anything for her work that fateful day but instead her legal bills, trying to stop Leder, amounted to almost 8000 USD.

I don't think I can nor do I want to look at celebrity pictures the same way again. I believe we should all be mindful of how we use the pictures available publicly. Paparazzi shots can be incredibly intrusive, as we all know. It rests in the hands of the consumer. I hope to exercise more restraint and be mindful of celebrity images. Because they are only human beings, abeit in the public eye.

vast

ever feel so empty you wonder why you even exist at all? and it scares you, this thought. then you are fine the next day and it is as if nothing ever happened at all. but when the night comes and everything is slow, the emptiness creeps up on you again. you are like a different person at night. everything is numb. the heart is dull. the vastness of this emptiness rings inside you in loud chimes.

goodbye, self-doubt, my old enemy

It is a brand spanking new week and I've decided to live with confidence. Actually, I decided this about three minutes ago and hurried over to write it into existence.

Ah, the pains of imposter syndrome! Isn't it painful to not only doubt your work but also doubt that you're where you are because of someone else's misplaced belief in you? You feel as if you're going to be found out any day that you're just swinging along without one bit of talent to spare.

I first came across feeling like an imposter when I switched careers. Setting out of one's comfort zone can go either way - you either come out a winner or feel like you're freefalling into a bottomless pit. Every Monday feels like a suckathon!! I had a hard time enjoying my work or believing that I was capable of actually contributing anything valuable. 

Now I'm getting better at calming myself. Instead of resorting to full-blown panic, I took a sharp u-turn just now and decided I AM good enough, I HAVE skills, I CAN rectify mistakes when I make any.

Feels nice to discover new things about yourself, every day.

everyday, do your thing

I work from home and I'm loving it.

• I start work with the full intention of being a dedicated employee
• distracted by BTS news 
• full concentration on work
• admire my own research skills - work stuff
• cry because I know only 10 words and I have used them all and what shall I write next, oh god!!!
• new burst of energy
• blank stare
• check time
• fuck yous shouted out to the void of my room
• two sentences
• sigh about the futility of life and work because I suck at what I do
• new burst of energy
• write furiously
• check time
• online window shopping
• chat with friends
• check time
• sudden love for my work #BLESSED
• check time

A poem for small things

*written sometime in April

 

 

Every day now, time is a concept, divided into four parts. Time for tea after I wake up, time during the day when I’m in bed in front of my laptop, time to go downstairs to cook dinner, time for myself after dinner.

 

These four periods are tied together by a common thread. I offer a poem for small things.

 

I look at accounts dedicated to plants on Instagram. They transport me out of my sometimes frankly stale world into a fresher, healthier realm. I also want to understand what the writer intends to say in their native language but the translation is off. ‘Space valid’ – I ponder over this translation for a few seconds and suppose that they probably meant to write the space has been used well and give my own conclusion my stamp of approval.

 

I scroll through Tumblr blogs, marvelling at the sheer witticisms of people.  

 

I love how BTS fans love the group so much they have created cool animated videos, hilarious memes, countless videos to form a cohesive story about why BTS deserves this love. This feeds into my admiration for the artists. ARMY, you are amazing!

 

I am happy we have eggs and flour and lemons at home.

 

I am grateful we have a big freezer. Though it is half empty now, we can still stock up when we’re really running low.

 

I am grateful we have more females than males in this house. Sometimes, I wonder if my aunt loves my brother this much because she practically raised him or because he is the only son in this house. 

 

And sometimes, I wonder at the miracle of believing that anything is possible for me now.

 

This time has proved to be indispensable – I needed to recalibrate. I feel less and less like myself every day. Or am I more and more like myself? I wasn’t this irritable. I wasn’t this cruel. I wasn’t this stupid. I wasn’t this egoistic (perhaps that’s preferable to being egotistic..:P). But I am now.

 

I need to calm down. I need to regroup my emotions and thoughts. If I continue along this path, I am nervous about where I will end up. There are dark clouds all the time now.  

 

This quarantine period has given me clarity on the small things that give me so much joy. The things and feelings that come up unprompted. When I am offered a cup of tea suddenly. When I feel a burst of energy and inspiration to make dinner and I’m alone in the kitchen. When I slip into fresh sheets after a refreshing shower at night and I pat myself on the back for having that energy to change my sheets at some point during the day.

 

And then sometimes, my small things are unpleasant for other people. Am I even allowed to share these? Like, I am joyous when I manage to sneak downstairs without encountering my family. I feel satisfied when I can take a whole day without any of them asking me why I’m in my room always. When I can grab food but my family’s around but they don’t talk to me and I successfully run upstairs to my sanctuary. I am ashamed to admit this but it is my small victory.

 

I dream of living alone all the time. I dream of being able to hang around in my balcony or in the backyard without having anyone around. I dream of cooking when and what I want. 

 

I offer a prayer I don’t have a child. I wouldn’t be a good parent in this present state of mind. It is quite sad considering I’d always imagined I would have started a family at this age. Now I’m not even sure I want a child at all.

 

Nothing is small if it brings you joy. Nothing is small if it brings you pain. Because that second of emotion is all you’re feeling at that time. You’re awash with love or sorrow. That’s all you know right that moment.

 

So, I say a poem for my small things. 

How do you console yourself when you're upset?

 Everything and everyone hurts. We imagine our hurts are unprecedented in this world. But that's not true, is it? 

I came across this question today, somewhere on the internet. And I've been thinking about it.

How do you console yourself when you're upset?

Lately, I've been turning to 'Uhgood' - what happens is I feel worse after I start listening to the song and I have a raging cry, and then I feel comforted. This is the only song that has ever had this sort of effect on me. I find it pretty amazing.

I sleep. Nothing is as therapeutic as good sleep. The harsh feelings are mostly gone and I can breathe easily.

Reach out to a friend.

I write. Sometimes it makes sense. Sometimes it is utter rubbish. But when I'm seeking comfort, venting either by talking to a friend or writing furiously dilutes my pain.