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Artist Statement
I am an artist. My only goal in life is to sculpt, to create brilliant masterpieces that express the visible and the invisible. The real and the unreal. The beauty and the beast.
My process for making art knows no boundaries. But it knows limits. When a stranger walks up to me and says “Your sculptures have a child-like quality,” I have to smile. Because they don’t realize that I only use child-free material.
I believe that we are all related. You are my cousin and I am your Uncle. Therefore, by supporting my creativity, you are actually supporting your Uncle.
The following is my “(Grade) Eight Mile” Sculpture Gallery. Please proceed with passion.
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“(Grade) Eight Mile”
“Oh, Gnocchi Didn’t!” -Bschooled
The inspiration for this edible tour de force came to fruition back in junior high.
I had just found out that my friend, G, had been talking about me behind my back. “She’s totally bad-mouthing you, B,” my classmate Lana said. “She’s telling people that you think you’re all that but really you’re not.”
G and I had been BFFs for five and a half months. The idea that she would talk smack about me was devastating.
Was Lana lying? Or did I just not see the writing on the wall?
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“The Writing on The Stall”- Bschooled
Turns out I hadn’t seen the writing. At lunchtime, Lana took me to the bathroom and showed me.
I was livid. I needed to do something to save my rep. But what?
I couldn’t fight her because I promised my Dad that I wouldn’t hit it until marriage. I decided that the only logical answer was to challenge her to an insult rap battle.
I told Lana to tell Chrissy to tell G to meet me at the bike racks the next day. “Four o’clock sharp,” I said. “And she better not be late. I have accordion lessons at five.”
Little did I know then, that accordion lessons were the least of my worries.
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“Downward Spiral(s)”- Bschooled
This irony-infused piece was dry-heaved from my mind the next day.
When I arrived, G was already there, along with half the school.
“Let’s do this,” she said angrily.
“It’s already been done,” I said, even angrilier.
We flipped a coin. G was up first.
G:
yo, yo, yo yo yo yo yo yo whuts up?
is that your face or did your neck throw up?
get ready cause im about to take you to school
when I’m done ur gonna look like a fool
i’d bet you ten dollars, okay maybe more
but i don’t bet suckers i buy them at the store
i’m funky and fresh and I don’t care what you think
everyone says that you totally stink
The crowd went wild. I had to admit she was good. But I was ready to bring it on.
Me:
i’m not the one who stinks in this place
it’s probably your breath blowing back in your face
u think that ur smarter than all of the rest
but what did you get on our last English test?
u got a B cuz you’re worse than the best.
you think your style is totally whack
i don’t know who told you that jack
my granny called and she wants it back.
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“Sticks and Stones” -Bschooled
.After a short intermission/smoke break (no inhaling), it was time to bring it on again.
G:
your mom is so ugly she can’t get a date
nobody believed when her period was late
she said yo im pregnant im having a baby
your daddy just laughed and said she had rabies
Oh, and sorry to hear about your accident hey
what do u mean u were born that way?
Me:
why you always gotta play me like that?
rat-a-tat-at-at-at-at-at-tat
listen up yo cuz i ain’t gonna lie
i know u are but what am I?
your mamma so ugly she make onions cry
i thought that we would be friends forever
G-unit and Bschooled, enemies never
we’d marry the Coreys and live in New York
too bad you ended up being a dork
G:
are you talking Corey Feldman and Haim?
i always thought they were both kinda lame
Ricky Schroeder was way more my game
we used to be friends till I heard what u said
u told Chazz Palmer that I still get breast fed
that’s why I told him that you were inbred
Me:
look im sorry but u started it mack
u said my hair color was naturally black
and i also use kleenex to fill out my rack
don’t u understand that’s totally whack?
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“Penne For Your Thoughts?” -Bschooled
This visual sixty-four thousand dollar question was mentally sculpted as we waited for the judges to make their final decision.
Unfortunately, everyone had already left by then so we didn’t have any judges. After forty-seven inconclusive rounds of rock paper scissors, we declared it a tie.
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“Tag Team” -Bschooled
*Although this piece looks the exact same as “The Writing On The Stall,” trust me when I say that it’s not.
In the end, G and I called a truce. We also decided to combine our skillz to make a record, G would lace the track and I’d be responsible for locking the flow.
**Halfway through recording we got into another fight when I accidentally went to third base with a guy she said she didn’t like but really she did. Needless to say, if I had been a mind reader back then it never would have happened and our record would have been a hit.
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That night, I asked my Magic 8-Ball Paper sculpture if I had the skillz to be a famous pasta sculptor. And you know what it said?
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“Magic Eight-Ball Paper Sculpture” -Bschooled
Fo’ shizzle it’s hazy*, yo!
*FYI- Hazy means “Yes” in insult rap battle talk.
Thank-you for checking out my pasta sculpture gallery. If you would like to purchase any of these carb-enriched wonderments, email me at bschooled@hotmail.com for a price list.
Just Making Convo 
Though your use of them is stunning,
I’ll get phat on pasta punning.
Some would say your humor’s arch,
But I just love a girl with starch.
who’s been sayin’ that ’bout my humor?
I’ll have you know it’s just a rumor
something something something tumor
I’ll have you know, this rap won third place at the Halifax Comedy Festival. (They have really low standards.)
Request: DelVecchio pasta art.
Unleash and start counting the hits.
Consider it unleashed.
Stick a feather in your cap, D-elissio. It’s about to get hot in here. (99.97 degrees celsius, to be exact.)
Schroeder over the Coreys? Forget her. She was obviously crazy.
Ha! You obviously didn’t see this episode:
His moves are like chocolate for the eyes.
(I have no idea what that means.)
Hey yo,
Dat post be b*****n’ B.
You da real O.G.
Smack dat h* when she nasty.
Her flow ain’t s**t,
3 day old spit,
she ain’t legit,
you got the s**t dey can’t f**k wit
In other words, that was laughing hysterically funny.
Brilliant! Maybe I don’t need G, after all. Think about it, Lisa. We could combine our skillz and make a kickass record!
You do know how to lace a track, right?
I just hope people still listen to records. Otherwise, we’re hooped.
OK Bschooled, I used “Fo’ shizzle it’s hazy*, yo!” to some gravity challenged jean wearers on the train and they beat the crap out of me and stole my sneakers. Thanks for that !!!!
Well, damn girl, if you’d have said, “Fo’ fo’ shizzle it’s hazy*, yo, yo mofo!”, they’d have given you their sneakers. Time honored traditions, dontchaknow.
I’m never gonna be “FLoon from the Hood” at this rate :(
I love the term “gravity-challenged jean wearers” so much, I’m going to write a rap about it.
Hell yez, biatch!
Xavier? OMG they put a freeway over Xavier! Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you got it’s gone? They paved over Xavier and put up a parking lot. R.I.P Xavier, you’re with 1970s computer lady now.
Now I have your version in my head Lisa….thanks :(
“Tag Team” is much better than “Writing on the Wall”
That’s what I thought, too. But trust me, it’s not.
(I learned that lesson the hard way.)
B, you are absolutely crazy. Loved it.
I’m glad to hear that. Because I’m naming it after you.
(?)
To the gourmetted eyeball, the subtle differences between “The Writing on The Stall” and “Tag Team” are so profound as to make one stutter, which I did. Exquisite, malady!
“Oh, Gnocchi Didn’t!” That has to be the most perfect sculpture and the name is awesome. Let me know when it shows up on ebay.
Fucking.Amazing. You’re Pablo Picasso! No, Rembrandt. The Didn’t gnocchi is just so…. so powerful. I’m overwhelmed. I bow to your amazing artist talent and am awed by your rap-battle skillz.
A dazzling display of repartee. I’m surprised she didn’t throw in the towel after you said her mother would make an onion cry. I know circus clowns who would have squealed like hogs after receiving an insult like that.
I would love to see you do an insult rap battle, GB.
Your exquisite lexicon would take today’s vocabulary-challenged rap battle artists to school.
I dreamed about being a rap star in high school. I even made myself a name. Sha-nasty Poof Poof. After seeing your obviously genius lyrical skills, I think I’m going to have to throw in the towel and give up on my dreams. Thanks for crushing my hopes.
Sha Nasty Poof Poof is stellar! It definitely kicks ass over my high school nickname, “Backseat Becky.”
I made it up myself as well.
I stopped being penne after a soon-to-be ex ordered it at dinner one time. But “Penne for Your Thoughts?” is making me question my pasta prejudice … and, well, everything.
I hate groundhog day.
True story, I thought about you when I made that masterpiece!
I was hoping you could turn it into some type of holiday greeting card for non-gluten sensitive people.
I stopped eating penne after a soon-to-be ex ordered it at dinner one time. But “Penne for Your Thoughts?” is making me question my pasta prejudice … and, well, everything.
I hate groundhog day .
Truer story, I thought about you when I made that tour de force!
I was hoping you could turn it into some type of holiday greeting card for people who aren’t sensitive to gluten.
The two of you
Had no one around
It’s a crying shame
For no one was put down
Your rapping is good
That pasta is too
Your rack is dam nice
And should be in who’s, who’s
Ha! Thanks, D-Bomb!
One question, though. What’s “who’s, who’s” and how much do they pay for each pic? (I don’t do videos.)
No one could create such works of wonder (and Jr. High angst) from pasta like you, b!
I think that the Magic 8 Ball is just jealous – pure and simple!
I think you’re right, T.
It probably doesn’t help that I keep threatening to replace it with the more eco-friendly “Magic 8 Ball Recycled Paper Sculpture”.
Thanks for the price list. You don’t mention whether sauce is extra or not.
All of my sculptures are sauce-free.
(Except for the ones in my “Bloody Massacre” sculpture gallery, of course.)
This sneak peak into your past has been enlightening. I find it rather comforting that friends called you B even back then. It allows me to imagine a childhood where we lived less than a thousand miles apart and constantly entertained each other; you to me with your food art and me with my appreciation of your food art and constant mood swings due to constant drug ingestion.
Because my imagined past is so much better than the real one!
PS- I thought you were starting the Atkin’s?
Thanks Scott! Actually, my given name is B, I just use Becky as a nickname. Could you imagine if we’d been neighbors? I could have sculpted your drug induced mood swings using a variety of food staples that we would have sold to buy more drugs! Our story would have made for the best After School Special EVER!!
ps. I stopped doing Atkin’s when I heard Mr. Atkins died. I felt like death would take away from my ultimate skinniness. (?)
‘I only use child-free material.’
What a great response.
Tx, GG.
I used to refer to my materials as “faux child”, but I found that people asked too many questions.
I don’t really like talking to people.
I saw Eight Mile and you did justice to the movie (and pasta…and the blogosphere…and rap battles). Girl, you are nothing short of amazing. It is always a pleasure to read/view your work. You are the consummate artist B. :-)
Gracias, Amiga.
I plan to call my next gallery “Nothing Short of Amazing.” And I owe it all to you!!
I think the best part of this post flew under the radar, seeing as it was kind of hidden in the intro, well before the pasta pictures started capturing viewer eyeballs, or whatever the hell it is that SEO is supposed to do.
“When a stranger walks up to me and says “Your sculptures have a child-like quality,” I have to smile. Because they don’t realize that I only use child-free material.
That shit is off the hazy/heezy/hook, yo. And the fact that you both talk to and smile at strangers is yet another reason why you’re bound to go far in the art world. I’m sure some of these strangers are so stunned by your open smile that they wish they would have met you back when you were still a child, and they were still the same age.
Steer clear of that “FREE PASTA” van, bschooled. Keep your eye on the prize and your hand on the pepper spray. (Also: the spray is perfect thing to give your pasta sculptures a bit of subtle “heat.”)
When I see artwork like this, I see your pastabilities. And that is no linguine-jerk reaction.
Why thank-you, Ahmnodt! You are a gentleman(icotti) and a scholar(ghetti).
(In case you didn’t notice, I made the last one up.)
This is good. But if you really want to make it to the big leagues, you need to start thinking about adding marinara and grated Parmesan to your repertoire.
You’re right.
But I should probably learn how to cook the noodles first. (Baby steps.)
girl, you are one of the few ones out on the Internets that can crack me up.
that’s a compliment, trust me.
we need to get you a gallery showing in chicago.
Trust me, Blunty, I trust you like nobody’s business. The fact that to this day I still go back to watch your videos just proves that you’re my humor icon.
Or, maybe it just proves that I’m a stalker. (Either/or)
Ha ha, penne for your thoughts, i like that one
I hope no gnocchi were harmed in the making of these sculptures. Now I’m starving.
When you end up with a showing at the MoMA, please let me know – I’ll swing by.