these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.

my artist website is here.

Jan 6, 2009

there's just something about black and white...

i know, i know... i'm supposed to be trying for a bit of color inclusion in my work these days but, honestly, i'm getting ready to just scrap that idea completely. at least for now. it's just not the right time. my heart's just not in it and i feel like it's pretty apparent. and one thing is for certain, i never want to fall in to that horrible habit of doing work just to do it or satisfy someone else's desires. the work, at very least, needs to be sincere. good or bad, it doesn't matter as long as sincerity is evident in the work. and that's not something that can be faked.

and at this point, the reason i've not posted any of the more recent oil paintings is because well... there aren't any to show. they are all half-finished, half-hearted attempts to move away from my beloved black and white and i just can't keep moving in that direction. that is a shift that needs to happen naturally in the course of my practice and i'm just not there yet. i am more interested in exploring the subtleties of color, the way a black and white approach can suggest color, than actual using color. i'm sure than sounds a bit strange or nonsensical but it's where i'm at with this work. dealing with the huge issues of loss and trauma, and their influence within the identity project, just feels a bit contrary to color... at least at this stage of the game.

i'm happy with my black ink and black paint. i'm happy with my white thread and white paper. the work has an elegance to it which is a wonderful surprise considering the somewhat sad nature of the ideas being explored. i'm completely satisfied with the works on paper and the redaction pieces and i need to trust the work and follow it's lead.

even something as simple as this piece...

"pictured window"
6" x 3 3/4"
redacted book page

...speaks so beautifully and elegantly about loss (and the poetry that can be found within the event of loss) that i feel compelled to keep up my current approach to exploring these ideas. i feel like i am on the right track here and i'm excited to see where it takes me. process has become an ever-increasingly important aspect of my practice that even the silliest experiments in the studio end up being such a thoughtful and genuine experience that i'm inclined to stop second-guessing my instincts.

p.s. lots of new stuff in the shop these days. everything from doll collections to home invasions to redoute-inspired botanicals. check it out when you've got a few minutes and let me know what you think. thanks!

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