Alfred Eisenstaedt's classic photograph is the perfect example of a timeless image. This describes the euphoria that swept the nation on the day that WWII ended. This drunken sailor, prancing around Times Square, has caught a beautiful nurse and sealed the deal. She seems to be under some stress, as she clutches her purse and skirt. However, she does not pull away, or at least the photo was taken in a way that makes us believe she may have wanted the sailor after all. This photograph was taken at the perfect moment, so that we clearly see the two people in the foreground, but we also clearly see the atmosphere around it, where others are amused at this sailor's smooth move. This photo romanticizes the end of war, and it allows us to understand just how terrible of a time it was.


Joel Peter Witkin's images are some of the most disturbing, yet intriguing things I have ever looked at. The Portrait of Nan is something out of this world. When I look at it I get a feeling of something evil. It seems as though the lady in the picture has been possessed by some sort of demon. There are symbols that seem to make sense in this right. Her hair is suspended, as if she was being controlled by some supernatural entity. She is their puppet. She holds what looks like the corpse of a small animal, which appears to be some sort of sacrificial offering. She is not herself. She is plagued, I can tell this by the dots that mar her skin. She sits beside a skeleton that cannot even bare to look at her repulsiveness. Something covers her face, hiding from us the view of her actual appearance. 


Sandy Skoglund's photograph entitled Revenge of the Goldfish is a nightmare taken prior to the development of any Photoshop-esque program. Therefore, it seems that the only explanation is that Ms Skoglund, either personally or with the help of others, handcrafted each and every goldfish. From my experiences in art school, I know that a plaster mold could have allowed her to mass produce many different kinds of goldfish. At the top of the image I can see the slightest hint of a wire so this makes me think that she produced these fish, painted them orange, then hanged them individually in a room. Some goldfish are sitting on the ground and are not hanged. Now this room has been "blued out." Everything, from the pillows to the drawers to the lamps have been made blue. One exception, however, is that the mirror has been left untouched. I know this because I can see reflections of the other side of the room. The  room is not a solitary solid blue, but strokes of different colors have been applied. There are two people in the photo. On the right is a child is sitting upright on the bed and on the left is an adult still at rest.








After reading this article I have realized that my preconceptions of the fruitless résumé were, in fact, valid. Michael Margolis does not directly point at this, but rather stresses the modern importance of a personal biography; however, it strengthens my opinion on the matter and helps to ease the angst I attribute with the inevitability of writing a résumé. I wholeheartedly agree with Margolis, and understand that this type of document is a formality of the past. It may be an essential part of the way some people go about finding a career, but if you are a designer, people must be able to quickly grasp the type of person you are and the type of assets you can bring to the table. It's about the bigger story - who you are, how you've gotten to where you are, and what the future holds. For a lot of people, what you have done in the past - where you worked or who you worked with - is a major factor in where you go next. But for some people, especially those fresh out of college, you may not necessarily have an impressive memoir. In this scenario it is imperative that whoever is checking you out gets just enough information so that they are interested in what they have learned but also so that they are left with a desire to learn more about you. In this case, you will have created  something that makes you both approachable and relatable.