small victory

All my hard-work spent tweeting during CAA a few weeks ago paid off when I was quoted TWICE in the online Art History Newsletter for my comments:

“Academic publishing as a colonization of intellectual property.”

“F1219 – yes, everyone in the rooms has memorized the library of congress call number for Pre-Columbian art history.”

And TWICE more in this episode:

” ‘Aztec rulers were cool and hot’ – Emily Umberger”

Love the idea of 4-dimensional calendars integrated into the Olmec landscape.”

This might not seem like much, but in this epic battle for a PhD, it’s certainly something!

archive love

There are few things I love more in life than a really great archive.  Well, maybe not in my whole life, but definitely in my academic life.  A good archive makes you feel productive even when you’re not really finding anything special.  And when you do find something special, a good archive rewards you with more.  A good archive is there for you when you’re about to give up — when you think it has nothing more left to give.  Just when you’re thinking about flying home early, that archive pulls you in and says, “not yet.  don’t go!”  A good archive lets you take its photo and doesn’t require extra careful handling.  It’s durable, but still leaves pieces of itself in your hands.

I FINALLY found something actually written by Eufemio Abadiano and that’s actually related to the selling of the collection (much of which ended up in Sutro’s hands).  So far, so good.  There’s still about 7 books I need to go through, but this little document above is like a piece of heaven sent down by Eufemio himself.  Gracias, amigo.

Abadiano on the brain

I’m at the Sutro Library trying to get as much done as possible before they close for 2 months.  I’m looking at anything related to Eufemio Abadiano in their collections — and I mean anything!  I’ve included a sample of receipts for you to get a sense of how detailed the receipts are, but, alas, the receipts aren’t exactly what I’m looking for.  Sure, it’s interesting to see who bought what book, or how much you paid for a few candles each week, but all the documents are before Eufemio’s time.  There are some books that the Abadiano’s published and I’ve been able to track their relocations across Mexico City (or perhaps just the foundation of multiple stores).  AND the most exciting thing is that I think I figured out how Abadiano got his name (from the town of Abadaño in the Basque region of Spain!).  All that is super fantastic and are pieces of the puzzle.  But I’m not quite there yet.  I have to get there in the next 2 days though.  And that’s the trouble with research on a limited time frame.

the big c

I really love this picture of me when I was little.  Al says that it’s amazing how I still make the same expression.  Yes, the expression is recognizable, but I think the underlying attitude might be different.  In some circles, with close friends and family, you might see that same smirk that reveals an underlying self-assuradness.  Even in undergrad, in some art history or film classes, a close observer might notice that I honestly felt that I knew what I was talking about.  While I still retain some semblance of confidence in my work for student government or Kaya Press, what may only show during seminars, conferences, and other interactions with art historians is a glimmer of uncertainty, a tinge of self-doubt, a lack of confidence.

Yes, confidence.  The big “C” in my life right now.  It takes a lot of confidence to write a book review for publication, to defend a dissertation prospectus, to presents a paper at a conference.  Heck, it takes a lot of confidence to even approach speakers after a talk or even make an appointment with an artist.  I used to be more confident and felt like I knew everything about art history.  But then something happened.  There was a major shift after an event I’d rather not disclose.  Since that moment, it’s been an uphill battle to recover my confidence.  I’m definitely getting better.  I can now open my email without the rush of heart palpitations, can attend an art history event without worry.

And though these last few years since the unnamed event have been rough, in retrospect, I think that every scholar gets shaken up in some way or another.  Either your beloved manuscript gets rejected, or maybe you have to settle for a NTT position for a while.  Maybe you just fail completely at being an academic and switch to another career that’s actually more enjoyable and rewarding.  If that’s the worst that can happen, then it’s really not that terrible.  I still believe that failure is an integral part of success, and that the biggest mistake you can make is not trying at all.

So, with that, I return to reading a very complicated book by Walter Mignolo, not sure whether I totally understand his theories of modernity/coloniality, but willing to try at the very least.