Arterial Exploration of Originality

2009-06-19T01:16:00.001-07:00

Ingrid von Sydow

b. 1975, New York, NY

lives and works in Los Angeles, CA

Education

MFA, California Institute of the Arts, Valencia, CA

BFA, California Institute of the Arts, Valencia, CA

Solo Exhibitions

2010

"The Road to Hell is Paved", LA, CA (upcoming)

"Tumbleweeds and Other Histories", Gallery 533, LA, CA

"Diversions", EPMoA, (Elysian Park Museum of Art), LA, CA

"Hybrid 2", Ave 50 Studio, Highland Park, CA

LACE Art Auction, LA, CA (upcoming)

2009

California African American Museum, (2009-2010), LA, CA

“Man”, Diamondhead Gallery, LA, CA

“Black Mirror”, D301, Valencia, CA

2008

“Black Space Residency”, D301, CalArts, Valencia, CA.

“Black Box Recordings”, Bliss Gallery, Queens, NY

Group Shows

2009

“An Idea Called Tomorrow”, Skirball Cultural Center, LA, CA (upcoming)

"Guadalajara International", Regional Museum of Guadalajara, Guadalajara, Mexico

"MFA Conversations Part II", I-5 Gallery, LA, CA

“Why Theory?”, Spring Arts Tower, LA, CA

“Back in the Discourse”, Main Gallery, CalArts, Valencia, CA

2008 "Staybite", an Artists for Social Justice show, Mint and Lime Galleries, CalArts, Valencia, CA

“Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder”, Mint Gallery, CalArts, Valencia, CA

“Alt_Cph”, at the Kunst og Kultur Fabrikken, Copenhagen, Denmark

2007 “A Study in Reversal”, L-Shape, CalArts, Valencia, CA

2006 “Bling”, curated by Mark Steven Greenfield, Palos Verdes Art Center, Palos Verdes, CA

"Action Speaks Louder", at Råhuset, Copenhagen, Denmark

2005 “What”, A402, CalArts, Valencia, CA

2004 “Benefit”, Rowayton Art Center, Rowayton, CT

Conferences/Panel Discussions

2008 "The Other" in contemporary art discourse: Owning, Speaking and Being “The Other”

Awards

2008 Lovelace Scholarship to attend CalArts, Valencia, CA

2007 CalArts Grant, Valencia, CA

2006 Dean’s Grant, CalArts, Valencia, CA

CalArts Grant, Valencia, CA

2005 Ahmanson Grant to attend CalArts, Valencia, CA

Alpert Grant to attend CalArts, Valencia, CA

Black Mirror

2009-06-18T12:15:00.000-07:00

"hand mirror"

carved burned cork

spring 2009
installation view
installation view
installation view
installation view

Drawings

2009-06-18T11:04:00.000-07:00

Reflection Study, 2008

graphite on paper

5' by 3'

Video Work

2009-06-18T11:00:00.001-07:00

Stills from a series of analog video art work entitled, Black Box Recordings

http://www.youtube.com/my_videos

Title: Mapping the Invisible
Media: Video , (please see youtube link for excerpts) with sound
shown on portable b/w, tv/radio, (the last photo of the series above is an installation view from the Artists for Social Justice Show

Journal entry 02/14/08, Observations from the Black Space Residency

In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.

When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body's been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.

-Mark Strand. from the poem, Keeping Things Whole

During time spent taking part in The Black Space Residency Program I collected this footage. I lost track of the storms, all I have to document my time there is this artifact, everything else is immaterial. In that black space, the environment or atmosphere appears in reverse, with light space dark and dark, light...the air swallows everything.

How many times has there been a fire and not a drop to put it out?

2009-01-06T10:04:00.000-08:00

Black plastic used in gardens to warm seeds, cover and carry garbage and on the corner of Comel and Willow it dries up memories of sweltering summers. The tape that binds the familiar, leaves a limbless stump, requires a pause when walking past for the mind to identify the possibilities . With each encounter imagine what the hydrant could have turned into now that it can’t be relied on. Is it such an eyesore to have a non-functioning object on the corner that it must be rendered nearly formless. Who did this? Could it have been a forlorn flame? A spurned lick of heat left with nothing to quench its thirst.

Inside
Each time the pilot provided the spark the blue beau would bellow, flinch and burn.

Outside

There were promises made by the mass that had to be covered, hidden…everything ends sometime.

This wanton shroud shields the volatile ardor that lies in wait just beyond the panes.

Long time...

2008-05-14T00:58:00.000-07:00

How to Look Like an Art Student

2006-10-24T17:01:00.000-07:00

The following list should be made available at the Student Affairs and Housing offices of your local Art school to help new and returning students adjust. It should accompany literature on the subject of hygiene and self-expression.

1. Bathing
• Get to know “your” smell
How?
Don’t shower more than 2x a week, at most. For example: Monday and Friday.
Switch to an all-natural deodorant or don’t use any at all if you’re not ready to skip or switch…try to see how many days a single application can take you…
remember, less could be more!

2. Hair
• Wake up in the morning (or afternoon) and fight the urge (passively) to run your fingers through your hair or comb, pick, brush, etc. it. Your hair will take care of itself and eventually take on a remarkable sculptural form
• Girls/Guys, shave your head, wear a wig. Throw everyone off! Do the opposite of what you do normally- a wonderful opportunity for you to explore notions of normalcy, conformity and convention.
• Dye your hair using harsh chemicals, (like Peroxide) or just Manic Panic. Who cares what your natural color is?
• Getting a haircut is only acceptable if the stylist is either still in beauty school, a friend of yours or if you’ve done it yourself.
• Body Hair is welcome!

3. Skin
• Always carry a sharpie with you to write notes or create patterns on your hands and forearms. This is a surefire way to keep from forgetting to turn in that paper next week.
• Make sure to pierce several parts of your body, consider getting a tattoo. Design your own! Your body is a canvas, work on it!

4. Clothes
• Disregard the decomposition of your wardrobe
Ie. Moth holes (or any holes for that matter especially ones in the posterior), fading, presumably due to washing, bleach spots, paint, food or sweat stains, holes in your shoes, (Or don’t wear shoes at all!)
• Don’t worry about washing your clothes, those stains add character and make your look unique. You might have bought your shirt at Abercrombie like the next guy but yours has burns and stains from that camping trip you took where you sat too close to the fire and drew on yourself with charred wood. So cool, display your individuality.
• Add accents to your ensemble for example: a headband, legwarmers, old hat, and/or Mr T. like gold chains.
• Wear bright colors, dazzling patterns, play with proportion: Expansion or Contraction. Baggy or tight to emphasize your relationship to the spaces you traverse.
• Think about what pieces of clothing to wear, or take away and in what order
For example: wearing a bathrobe belt on the backside of your velour leggings or cutting off the butterfly collar from your “interview” shirt and attaching it to a headband with some Velcro to your head.
Above All
Whether you deliberately slouch or walk tall know that you’re a Very Special Person, part of a countercultural movement, a rebel, if you will. Live hard! And true to you!
…and make sure to document it somehow with a/v.

Betwixt

2006-08-22T14:42:00.000-07:00

Don't you want to encounter a virtual space where there are other people like you?
Yeah, me too.
That's what I envisioned this whole blog-business would be about.
I suppose because I've been overly concerned with what people who know me in the real world might think, I haven't been able to divulge my true thoughts.

So I've deduced that no one reads my occasional blog.
That's fine. I haven't written anything that hasn't been read before.

Saw the new Spike Lee documentary, "When the Levees Broke" on HBO last night. I wish that I had something to say...not about the movie itself but about the delayed response to the Hurricane.
I don't feel for everyone who lost a home due to Katrina.
I understand that natural disasters are called such for a reason.
There is nothing amusing or ironic about that old white couple who were vacationing in Tuscany and had just visited Pompei. When they heard the news, (on a tv in a cafe) about the horrors that people who couldn't afford to get out of town were suffering. It seems that they were searching for a connection to the city/people. The trouble is if they found themselves dirt poor, living from paycheck to paycheck they wouldn't be searching for irony.

You know who owns that city?
The people who waded through the sewage Bush was blind to.
The people who stayed.
Spike Lee may not always hit the mark with his films.
Parenthetically: Can anyone clue me into what the message/idea was behind She Hate Me?
He does phenomenal work based on real events. I can't say I'd thought about him as a documentarian in the past but after Levees I felt a swell of respect and admiration for him.
The last half of the "Requiem in Four Parts" is tonight.
The Man and I are expected two friends to join us, (as they did last night).
These two friends speak really freely about the political climate in which we steep. In response to their outspokenness I get quieter than the church mouse who hasn't been to church since he started questioning his belief in god.
Why?
I AM interested in politics.
I read about the news online.
I listen to NPR.
I vote and feel really good about myself afterwards.
Sometimes I just don't feel that I need to add "my two cents" if I agree with what people are saying. Commenting on current affairs is an activity that I feel is best done by reporters and journalists...people who can find the words to speak about something that is often impossible to speak of.

So I'm ending the Getty sponsored summer internship in about a week. I made a friend during the events held for the interns at the Getty who was far more ambitious that I see myself. She networks at every opportunity and doesn't seem to experience an ounce of insecurity in her critical thinking skills. She asked some of the presenters questions that I thought were somewhat awkward. Like, "Do you ever miss working creatively since you've been an art history professor?" to a male professor who majored in studio art during his undergrad and then art history for grad school and then became an art history professor. He seemed slightly unnerved with her questions and for that reason answered them carefully.
I think that I'll miss the old 9-5...well, it's really 8:30-5:30.
So I won't miss waking up early, interrupting my dreams. I live for them.

One hopes that they are good at what they love to do. Or that what they love yields good work.

Untitled

2006-07-25T16:05:00.000-07:00

I had a terrible dream around 5:30 this morning about my fish...named 'Untitled'. In the dream Untitled was swimming about unaware of Mr. IS Stark's, (another fish of mine) longing gaze. Mr. had grown to the size of a small whale and the shape of his eyes had changed. I suppose that this was an indication of a change in his character. As I was watching Mr. just took a deep breath in and sucked Untitled up whole. I tried to force Mr. to cough Untitled back up but by the time he finally did, Untitled was dead.
When I woke up I went to the tank to make sure that Untitled was okay and he was.
I couldn't fall back to sleep so I stayed up reading and slowly waking up.
Less than an hour later on my way to the shower I went to feed my aquatic friends. Untitled was gasping for air floating belly up at the top of the tank. I pulled him out and filled a vase with treated water. He just kept gasping. Once in a while he would swim around and try to act normal. But I couldn't stay with him. I had to go to work.
When I left he was floating at the top of the vase mouthing messages.

Transportation in and to India from this Blog

2006-05-29T12:51:00.000-07:00

It's been three months since I got back from India. I want to go back. Back to the place where I was so comfortable.
I want to understand this reaction better. I fear that I'm just like every tourist...feeling that I'm a part of every place I go. Feeling that I have access to every place.

Long Live Mr. I. S. Stark!

2006-02-07T23:22:00.000-08:00

Sorted Matter

2006-01-16T18:45:00.000-08:00

This day marks my return to blogging. The immaterial world got in the way of my communication. I can't say that this is the first time that it's happened...and it won't be the last but at least the depression left here will serve some reminder of it's occurance.
I've lived here for about five months now and apart from the regular whirring of buses driving down my street about twice a day a train bleats. LA's inadequate subway system doesn't make much of a sound at all, (well in comparison to the racket that the MTA does in NYC). The various layers of sound would be visually interesting if I managed to plot them and mark their attendance with some device. I sure do have a lot to do with some device. Device serves an infinite array of mechanical, ornamental and rhetorical purpose.
Yesterday, in my freedom mobile, (commonly known as a car) I had the good fortune of getting stopped to allow a freight train to pass. I absolutely love watching them. Each car passing like a word in a sentence that's run long past expectation.
Just a little further east than I live are even more sweatshops and factories processing everything from smoked fish to dolls. Less people milling about...more industry...so admirable. My mind is more like downtown either flush with indifferent activity or impoverished by imposed isolation.
Where to live...
where do I find myself? I get lost looking at maps well before I've physically lost my way. Some day I'll have all my matter sorted.

Tomorrow

2005-10-25T22:56:00.000-07:00

Haven't written in a while. What happened, you might ask...
I've been busy and that's all you need to know.
You're not my momma!
She knows what I've been doing.
You're a blog.
Know your place.
From now on, don't ask me where I've been.

Tomorrow is my birthday.

she i her me

2005-08-21T22:42:00.000-07:00

Flew in and out of shelters like a pigeon through abandoned buildings
She never admitted that she did though
She somehow managed to look normal, smell less than others there
She stole without prejudice or guilt from everybody she could and like a raccoon she did all this at night
Climbing over the tides of stench & filth
Reaching her arm down deep
Into the calloused bodies
Pulling her arm out with at least one valuable
She knows where to sell everything from hair to teeth
One night, I was spared of the usual drowning in the washbasin dream
Only to dream of
her catching me asleep with my mouth open
She reached elbow and all
Down my throat
& let her nimble fingers search for buried treasure
She found my mother’s locket that I swallowed at the age of 3
There were pictures of her parents in there
Ma was so angry that I lost it
I never told her how

Las Meninas and The Lame Devil

2005-08-20T18:10:00.000-07:00

She talks on this corner

clipped gait
sentences snagging clothes as she jumps

Freeze!
They'll check papers, she warns

How to get across...
makes her mad
this bend like the one in the ward
projects sharply
provides no monitored escape

Hear the whistle
costly on the end closest
Just a sight from furthest away

Dry everywhere
watering was at the beginning of the week

Nothing left but to use molars
The fronts are gone
As are the ones who were scared
two nights in

She's light
after the metal sea
there's a shallow side for her waiting
She's a fitter
snips shear space out
Hold it right there!
She's in check

So illuminated by their lights that
She's clear
Off to fastening
the outside in
abandoning palabras

Uneasy Rider

2005-08-19T23:46:00.000-07:00

Tom Andersen is a wonderous and insightful professor of film history and filmmaking. His latest movie opened a year ago, (although I hadn’t seen it until last week) entitled, Los Angeles Plays Itself, (which sounds all too close to Los Angeles Gets Played) is an indulgent documentary on the varied ways that Los Angeles is depicted spatially and culturally in films. Interestingly the film was being screened at the Villa Aurora, a Spanish style house built by a German Jewish architect in the Pacific Palisades area of LA. The people who gathered to watch it were a mix of elderly women who heckled people as they took their seats, middle-aged art film hangers-on, young urban professional artists mostly from Germany and Austria and a handful of self-appointed agents of the city, where I fit into that mischung is embarrassing and unnecessary to admit.
The clips of films about LA are well chosen and cut/narrated in a manner that betrays how passionate Andersen is about the city. Although I live there now, I’m not from LA. It’s very much a distanced (there) place, for me presently and I should note I get lost here daily. Encke King says in his narration for the film, that LA is the most used city in film, (this can't be true presently). Andersen goes back to the early days of the medium and proves that the renaming of the city in (a particular early film that I don't recall the name of) has been a deliberate effort made to fictionalize the city in films. The streets, buildings, suburbs fall out of order once on celluloid and are reassembled to make the war hospital scene more civilized and orderly once set in the historic Bradbury building, car chases more destructive or the romantic drive more picturesque. The trouble is that we’ve got a lot more of everything here in LA. More roads of all different types, more natural variations in terrain, more cars…there’s a lot to work with. Let’s face it, this town and it’s suburbs are a film scouts’ dream. It’s clear however that Andersen feels that films have generally betrayed LA in their portrayal of it.
Note to Linklater: Feel free to send Hawke and Delpy here to shoot the sequel to Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, call it 'After noon' perhaps. It will have to be set in some sort of motor vehicle as they certainly can’t walk to anything in a timely fashion. Then again perhaps this city is perfect for a Linklater film as his characters never seem to be in a rush to get anywhere and in one particular film never make it out of a single room.
Here’s my point, films in their very nature, unless they are a documentary, do not claim to accurately depict space or time, (except for in the case of Time Code). Does it matter whether Girl 6 lived in Bed Stuy or Harlem? We don’t read a book like Miller’s Sexus and get irritated because he didn’t specify which building ‘The Cosmodemonic Telegraph Company’ does business out of. It’s a work of fiction composed by an artist who uses words rather than pictures as a cinematographer does. Why should a film run on any logic other than it’s own? Had The Terminator’s fight and chase scenes traversed an actual single location would it have been an art-house classic? Hell, no.
As I stated earlier, I’m not from LA. I had a different idea of what it was/is from watching films so studiously. No, I didn’t understand that it would appear as it does in film in reality, (I did hope that they had better public transit than the non-existent system in movies). Most of the films that receive mass distribution that take place in LA, (and elsewhere for that matter) are not made for the people who make films themselves or are car-less and working three jobs to stay afloat. They’re made for one of the women at the screening who ‘doesn’t want people to see LA that way, that’s not what my life is like. I have to drive everywhere, I have appointments and professional obligations’. Films aren’t about her either are they? Then again, I don’t watch all the Loews mull. Is Andersen guiding those so inclined to make the contemporary equivalent to Woodberry's Bless Their Little Hearts...? quite possibly
Perhaps LA needs more directors like the Hughes brothers. As Besson and LeMonnier went underground and hitched across the countryside of France we need more films about LA traveling off of the highways aboard a Lexus and onto them as migrant workers riding in the back of pickups like shrubs from the Home Depot. A film maker to feature LA's dark, stinking alleys, turnstiles without fareboxes, miles of fenced borders and leagues of routes and highways.

The Elusive Horny Housewife and some comments on blogspot blogs

2005-08-16T21:44:00.000-07:00

I was surfing around blogspot looking for an interesting read, I actually really wanted to find something to post a comment about. I thought it kind of those three people who visited my site today to post comments.
Ya'll come back ya hear!
During my quest to comment I found this site,
http://military.1forless.info/horny-military-wife/index.html
Deadly lure? Perhaps.
Who are all these people starting lame blogs?
Aren't they wasting their precious time? But more importantly, isn't HerbaLife passe? I don't know when it was all the rage anyway. And whoever is responsible for starting a blog to sell Avon products should feel ashamed of themselves.
Babies, yes, they are cute if they weren't who would bother buying them all of those diaper genies and Whoozit whatzit crap.

There were a few sites that caught my eye
http://fluorescences1.blogspot.com/
But, hey Chris, if you bother to check this out maybe you could post an entry about why you don't have anywhere for me to send you comments!
and one on Friendster:
http://stupidfamouspeople.blogs.friendster.com/
"Hateration" Kia made me laugh. Yes, I agree they are all stupid famous people. Oh, but Ms. Kia, why oh why are you interested in that Jake Gyllenhaal, (is that how his name is spelled?). How is it that he gets spared your wrath?
Still looking for some stimulating bloggin' action
Your gal, Ms. VS.

2005-08-16T21:13:00.000-07:00

Last summer around this time I was trapped behind glass

TAM

2005-08-16T17:04:00.000-07:00

New cover
an old story.

The Attendant or Pas Seul

2005-08-16T16:04:00.000-07:00

A r ed ca r par ks in front of the window facing the street each night
Again and again it pulls in
And out
Backs up through empty spaces behind it
Makes to pull out
Backs right up anon

The woman driving it sits inside moving
Repeating motions

Sometimes she needs to open the door
The light inside turns on
She’s not in there alone ever
That lot has cars in it all the time
No attendent in the marked booth

This is Motorized pacing
Her signals on
Implies that she’s waiting for something

Is this what bumpers are for?

She doesn’t park well
Has to get out many times to check if all her wheels are in between the wider lines
Her car wide and sedan tarry
straddles the lines

Who knows where she wants to be…

The guy in the black shiny car without his lights on, without plates
He wasn’t walking in her direction out of his car
But does linger by her back window for a real ly long time
Until the delegate she’s yelled to makes his way over
Just in time
The white lightless man is done

Between the two removed bars of the gate
On the vespers
There are men hidden in them thar cars
Trenchant patterns
The lot somewhere between
the high, or open
the sea, spring and mainland
exists through layers of air having different densities
the vapors refract off of her
inverting senses
de Facto

True North

2005-08-16T13:15:00.000-07:00

MAK Center/LA

Why show only the still images from a video work?

In isolating the forms, immobilizing them Julien enables the viewer to concentrate on the exoticized environment, a space akin to Flaherty's exploration of the north, (Presently the temperature on Iqaluit, Nunavut is 9 degrees C. While it's currently 55 degrees F in Reykjavik, Iceland. 55-32=23 times 5/9=approximately 13 degrees celsius.) Although the photos themselves depict a cold place they aren't grainy, scary...at all like Nanook. Obviously a stylistic replica isn't what Julien was going for. The photos are too clean at times recalling expensive photospreads in fashion magazines in exotic locales. The asian assistant, let's call him Nanook's distant cuz looks cold down to his skivvies despite his hooded haute couture fur coat. But the assistant (unlike in the DVD Installation with three screens), looks like a model, statuesque and oddly warm.
This confidence/comfort in the facial expression/posture is both inviting and disconcerting.
Will continue organizing my thoughts on this later...

Le Noir Etalon

2005-08-15T23:21:00.000-07:00

Outside a woman is calling out for someone named Elly
Where are you Elly.
Okay, she says
Elly must be there afterall
Sound could carry well in these hard spaces
I drove past Skid Row today or what the person in the car beside me referred to as such. She said that it wasn't exactly Skid Row. I didn't ask her what exactly that was, or this. She said that she doesn't drive on that street...doesn't think I should. They want what they don't have. What we have, that's why.
I saw a dead dog on the side of the entrance ramp heading onto the highway. I couldn't make it out at first. It looked like a sack that someone had tossed out of their car on their way...
I checked to see if it was still breathing. I never thought of myself as the type to try to save a wounded animal. Where was it going when it got hit? What happened? Why wasn't anyone there to help? Maybe there was a chance. Who knows when the accident happened.
Accident. I've been thinking a lot about that word since someone rear-ended me a couple of months ago. Accidents can't be helped?. What isn't an accident? What was planned.
More words.
In the future we'll be able to download thoughts straight from our heads to our blogs for public consumption.
The most valuable space will be intellectual and once you get the software sent to you in the mail you can go public and your stock will appear on the Nasdac. So you can send thoughts in all media and formats and others will receive ticker prices for those thoughts. All forms will be on AutoFill but bills will still only be virtually paid.

From on High

2005-08-15T08:33:00.000-07:00

He waived his cane in my direction
He has needs

You are my sunshine
My light
…he said
I love you

But I love you…
he grabbed my arm
he touched my hair
he said,
I have money

How about a dollar
She said, that wasn’t enough
A dollar…he repeated
She said no, and turned away
Maybe later…
She said no
Fifty cents?
No.

I’m a good person
Do you have some change?
Any change
Coins…
I just want to get a bowl of rice
I’ll take anything

2005-08-14T23:32:00.000-07:00

Lying in bed...it's a relatively quiet night here in Downtown, LA. I'm mind numbingly tired but want to accomplish so much. I finally understand what Gary said about wishing that he would never have to sleep because it's a waste of time. As soothing as sleep can be, as much of a ticket to pause life as it is I just don't want to do it anymore. I may be replaying my conversation with Gary from who knows how long ago but...
Wouldn't it be lovely if you could work through sleep? Imagine how much work one could accomplish with the added time. I think that in response I said, but it's the lack of sleep that is actually impeding the consistent production. We were both right.
Words.
These are my last six days of my Getty Grant to work with the MAK Center for Art and Architecture. As it's drawing to a close I'm starting to feel sad that it's over.
Perhaps for the lack of a regular paycheck or is it that I really enjoyed this more than I'm willing to admit?
Well, whatever the reason now isn't the time to sort that out. I've got to wake up early tomorrow.
The Dr. Bronner's bottle says that all one needs is enough sleep and Dr. Bronner's well, at least I have one out of two. I'll keep working on the former.

I suppose that the Bus service is minimal on a Sunday night in LA. How many of the sweatshops are in operation on this day of Sun. Where are all of the buses kept when they are not sitting idling in front of my building. It's not completely quiet here. There are buses on other streets. What is the system?
I should call dad and ask him whether buses run on an automatic transmission or manual.
Buses sound like the inside of horns mashing against each other.
Disparate thoughts.
When will I make it to Denali to see the wild goats?
-
So what do I want to do here?
Like a politician I've got plans, big ones.
I want to record my starts and stops. I'd like to think of this as a step towards cultivating my snobbery and making it more palatable for myself and others. Teehee.
Okay, how about this...
These postings will provide me with a space wherein I may organize and analyze, write about art, film and all artistic disciplines that I come in contact with or desire to. I'll mince words and broadcast them for harvest in 45 days.
So much for first words. First anything leaves a lot of room for disappointment and improvement.
Noodles-that was my first word
Tune in tomorrow for my second.