yay!

oh, whose little maid painting is down there in the corner? :)

if you're in the neighborhood or anywhere close to it, i'd love to see you at the opening!

July 2nd
6 - 8pm
HANG Gallery, San Francisco

two more!

both works - untitled
11" x 7.5"
water-soluble graphite, gouache, and masking tape on paper
angela simione, 2009

trying to make the best out of the heat wave. hopefully tomorrow we'll get a bit of a break and i can get back to painting outside for more than just an hour a day. it's been nice to have a couple days just to look at the canvasses while i work on other things but i don't want to lose my quick pace. these little works are great though and i think it'll just be a little side-project of mine... 20 portraits is what i'm shooting for. dang! 20 GOOD portraits... we'll see!

"anonymous was a woman"...

yesterday, after the hell-like hotness got the better of me and put a hard stop on my outdoor painting time, i got to drawing. and it felt good. really good. i love drawing- just playing and meandering around, letting the materials take the reins and guide the process.

these are the drawings i made while i hid inside from the heat and i must say i adore them!




untitled 1 and 2
11" x 7.5"
water-soluble graphite, gouache, and masking tape
angela simione, 2009


they are untitled as of yet because i'm thinking these ladies need a few friends to keep company with. i'm also thinking they'd made good prints. hmmmmm. ideas, ideas, ideas. i'm gonna get back on the drawing-wagon this afternoon. it's supposed to get up to 110 today so i'll definitely be hiding inside.

effing summertime...

ah... uhhhh... blah.... it's 105 degrees here in wine-land. gross. so gross. extra gross. and though we've got a swamp-cooler, the line that feeds it water has cracked since last summer so we're roasting here in our little cottage. the dog is laying limp on the linoleum and my sweetie and i are both ready to follow her lead. no more painting for today. i can barely move without feeling disgusting. it's sticky and hot and i'm wondering how the hell this could be happening... didn't i move out of southern california to get away from heat like this?

yay for saturday...

i slept and slept and slept! oh, it was nice and i had some really weird dreams. none of them bad, just weird, and now i'm up drinking coffee and looking at my paintings and happy that it's saturday because that means my sweetie is available for wrestling and playing and laughing. the weekends are good here and i look forward to their arrival in spite of the work week being pretty great too. i allow myself to forget my schedule on weekends and just enjoy our little life together. i still generally get a good amount of painting done and my sweetie comes out and checks on me, offers his thoughts, tells me what he sees... he's getting pretty good at giving a critique and is almost as big an art snob as me. ha! he reads my art magazines, cover to cover, and i don't really even do that. it's good that he takes such an active interest in all this. it helps and it's a great big comfort to have such strong support and endless encouragement. he says i'm his favorite artist. (blush) ha!

hope...

maybe the work can teach me what forgiveness is.

i have no answers or insight or relief to offer. give me yours...

this post has taken hours to write... and it's not nearly what it should be. i'm sure there are flaws and confusion all through it. i'm sure i've said it wrong.

but every now and then, it becomes necessary to talk about my private life here. every now and then...



i know that it's everywhere and that there's no real, dire need for yet another blog post about all the death in the news lately... and honestly, i need a bit of a break from it too... and honestly, i don't really feel ready or even equipped to speak about those deaths in any specific way... and honestly, i feel beaten up and weary and useless and confused...

and i feel this way because of the work i make. a lot of my work deals with death... and it all deals with loss in one way or another... with grief and identity and victimization and robbery and abuse and marginalization... a lot of really uncomfortable subject matter in general. and so the news of late and watching the world stop and stare and cry has effected my mood. i woke up feeling a bit lost today... dazed... like a piano has been dropped on me...

i called my sister and we talked for hours. conversations weaved in to one another and we covered as many topics as possible until the battery got too low and the call was dropped. we talked about grief mainly. how it is a different experience for everyone and yet there seems to be a culturally prescribed way to deal with loss... and a very dominant expectation for everyone to feel the same way about the same thing. it's not a moment to rock the boat or go against the grain in any way... all cultures have it to one degree or another... appropriate displays of grief are a culturally mandated thing... and it's hard to watch. at least for me, it is. i'm not pointing any fingers or making any judgements here... it's just that the prescribed model doesn't fit me and it feels bad not to fit in sometimes.

i'm coming face to face with one ethical or philosophical or emotional dilemma after another and it's a lot to contend with. my boat has been rocked. my grain has been splintered.

i don't know where i stand and i'm tired of thinking about it but i can't stop thinking about it and it's reminding me of leah's death. it's reminding me how i felt when i got the news and how, to this day, i'm still angry with her over a great many things she did during her life... cruel things, mean things, and lies.

and it feels mean of me to still feel angry, to harbour resentment...

she's dead.

who am i screaming at?

does all the crap from the past even matter? exactly what am i having such a hard time getting over? of what nature is my loss?

i don't want to become bitter. i never want to become so soured against humanity that compassion becomes impossible. i want to be compassionate and extend forgiveness and love and understanding...

leah used to say, "if you came looking for sympathy, you came to the wrong person". i don't want to be like that... but i know that i have been in regard to her life and her experiences... experiences that made her sarcastic and mistrustful and hateful and judgemental and manipulative. i've tried to take my knowledge of her and make it explain how she could do the horrible things she did. i've tried to excuse it all. i've tried to find a path of forgiveness. i've tried. and i've failed and failed and failed. i guess i'm not done trying...

but it's hard when your heart has been eaten by a person you loved and trusted and admired... a person whom you felt safe with, whose presence in your life was prized, a friend you wanted forever and talked with about being two old ladies together, laughing in our rocking chairs on the front porch and giving children a hard time...

it's hard when that person puts all your secrets on display... removed from it's context and twisted to get the biggest laugh. it's hard when you've been victimized by someone so close, so trusted, so elite in your life. it's hard when you've got no recourse, no power and no voice... no way to explain yourself because no one cares to hear it... the damage has been done and everyone believes the worst and no one cares about the truth. it's hard when you've been humiliated and used and your pain gets laughed at. it's hard to have your private life and emotions put on stage by the one person you trusted most in the world. it's very hard to know what to do or how to feel or how to forgive when then that person dies and you never had it out with them, never called them out on their bullshit, never defended yourself...

i never defended myself.

not really.

i chose to leave her life quietly.

i was tired of all the yelling and i was tired of defending myself against the opinions of strangers and co-workers, whoever. i was tired of the cruelty and i knew i couldn't win and that it'd never stop as long as i kept responding. i was tired and beaten down. i handed her the crown and i walked away. when she died, i hadn't seen or spoken to her in over 5 years.

5 years. i didn't think of her very often and i didn't care about what was going on in her life. i had no curiosity, not even the morbid kind and, as far as i was concerned, no news was good news. i felt betrayed. still. and i referred to her as Brutus in the corner of my heart and mind and memory. i did not regret letting go of the friendship. it'd hadn't been a real friendship after all. i did not miss her... but i really missed who i thought she was when we first met. i really missed the persona... the late night conversations and silliness and sharing and kinship i had felt... that mask she built from lies and deceptions- i missed it horribly.

and so today, the weight of all that hurt is back on me... and i don't know what to do with it or how to set it down. it feels like shit to admit that after all these years i'm still hurt and i still feel betrayed. it feels like shit to be mad at a dead woman... to still be afraid of her.

leah is the person who first exposed me to earth, wind, and fire... to de barge... to billy ocean... and to old michael jackson. i learned all the words to P.Y.T because of her... to make her laugh at karaoke. she would be in bed crying her eyes out right now if she were alive. she'd refuse to eat or leave the house or get out from behind her quilt. she'd collapse and stay collapsed for a week or two and call off from work and just crawl inside herself and hide. she'd be wounded by yesterday's news in a huge, horribly deep way. she'd have been traumatized and it would've taken her a long, long, long time to crawl back out of her cave.

i need to learn how to forgive her. i need to learn how to tell good, happy stories about her. i loved her best when she was in my life. i need to find a way to move passed everything else. it does no good to hold on to all this. it has no value anymore. some one's daughter is in the ground and i'd never wish it on anyone to have to bury their own child. no one. and my heart broke for leah's mama. it still breaks for her. i need to learn how to set it down and be okay and remember her in a better way and hold on to the good that was in her in spite of everything else. i think i'm finally mourning her... and i feel inappropriate and too late and my grain is flying all over the place- splintered and useless and adding up to nothing.

straight to work, straight to dreaming...

it's just passed 9am and my hands are already stained with my precious black. oil everywhere, oil as far as i can see and the smell is in my hair and in my skin and on the thighs of my jeans and i am happy in spite of the overcast weather.

you'd think i'd like grey days but i don't. i like sunshine and bright light and warmth. one of the worst things i can be is cold. i hate being cold. once that happens, it takes so long for me to thaw back out. cold is PAIN and that's something i can definitely do without. that's probably the big reason why i love california. it never gets too cold to move and we don't have to wear ski-masks to go to the grocery store in winter.

i saw a photo once of people on the street in new york during winter-time and i was horrified. ski-masks and 3 coats and 6 scarves and humongous gloves. it must take 20 minutes (at least!) to put all that on, and again to take it all off once you get where you're going. but i'm sure it's worth it- to live in new york, i'd make the trade and suffer the unbelievable cold in spite of my hatred for it. it's new york, after all, and i'm still wrapped up in all my romantic fantasies about the place. one day i'll get there and i'll probably get yanked down off my cloud but until then i'll remain satisfied with my idealistic dreams and cling to them as hard as i can. those dreams are what keep me moving sometimes, keep me from feeling beaten down and fed-up.

but lately, i've not lost anytime to fantasy and dreams of far-away places- i've got goals here that are so close that i can't stop stretching my arm out toward them. each day i get a bit closer. the 10-hour painting day is an amazing thing. amazing. i feel better about my life and where i'm at and where i'm going than i have in awhile. maybe the sting of 2008 has finally worn off.

structure...

...does a body good. at least, this body, it does. as much as i sometimes loathe it, it has done right by me; kept me moving and on track and buzzing along at a fine pace. it's not about rules so much as appreciating time... not squandering it.

the haiku is quickly becoming my favorite form. little poems make me happy.





heated



in summer, i lay
breathless as an old blood-hound
panting toward the cool.



-angela simione, 2009




it was a hot one in wine-land today. really hot. and i am worn out...

bare with me, it's a biggun! shoes, facebook, and the art biz...

oh man. OH MAN! these shoes are WONDERFUL! AH! what a difference! now i know why the guy at the shoe store cringed so hard when i told him that i'd been running in an old pair of beat up converse. ha! i mean, it's a completely different experience! i can run farther EASIER. it's unbelievable! and i don't breathe as hard either. i'm truly amazed how having the correct tool for the job impacts the job itself- something i've sorta always known but hadn't applied to the jogging thing honestly because (1) i've been a cheap ass and (2) hung up on the cuteness factor. stupid! lesson learned! and the brand is: saucony! take my recommendation, guys and girls, these shoes are IT! accept no substitute! this is the shoe for you! :)

and now back on to art talk-

so... facebook is just another social networking site right? well, not quite. if you make "friends" with the right people, it's actually a pretty nice tool to have in your bag. i've made sure to make "friends" with every art institution, gallery, whatever that i can think of that i admire and would love to work with one day. i get regular updates about openings and it really does help to know WHEN stuff happens if you'd like to be a part of it. also, i'm currently enmeshed in a wonderful (sometimes enraging) conversation about the role of the audience in an artist's process or approach to art-making. it's all i can think about for the last three days since this conversation started. hearing how other people interpret this issue has been both shocking and insightful and has given me tons of new ideas to consider. TONS! i haven't really gotten to have conversations about things like this since art-school. it's so much fun! so here we go...

the audience.

this is a topic that applies to artists who want to show their work in public. and i'm still learning the ropes on this one too so bare with me and please chime in if you've got something to say. :)

in my opinion, it's not really up to an artist WHO gets to be in their audience. it's not something you have much control over. if people like your work (or are even intrigued by it), they're in your audience. and what they have to say about your work is information that can only help you. at least, that's been the case with me. example: if i painted a picture of a cow and 99 out of 100 people said it was a painting of a duck... that's good information to have. it's information i can USE! now, to me, it'll probably always be a painting of a cow, but the truth is that i inadvertently learned how to paint a duck. i might not have succeeded in satisfying my original intention, but i've learned something... i've gained a skill that i didn't bet on. it's not a bad thing and it's not a negative critique either, it's INSIGHT in to HOW people SEE your work. and once you've made the leap to showing your work in a public venue, you need to realize that you've opened the door to having discourse. you can't shout out statements and then slam the door, refusing to let others respond. art is a form of conversation. it creates a space for discussion and sometimes the discussion heads in a direction that the artist would never have even dreamed of. that's part of the fun. and it's valuable to know how the majority of people see your work. very valuable. that kind of information is just what you need to know how to tweak your work in such a way that mistaking your intentions will happen with increasingly less regularity. and i do not mean that you compromise the work at all- it's about tightening up your skills and not thinking that you're smarter than the audience and that they're just there to be told what to do and how to think. because the cold, hard truth of the matter is that the vast majority of people on the planet DO NOT CARE ABOUT ART. evidence: the fact that art programs are always the first thing on the chopping block... even in times of economic health and stability and growth. more evidence: the common adage "starving artist". most people believe that there's absolutely no money to be made in art and that a person who decides to follow this road is resigning themselves to a life of poverty and toil. definitely not the truth but it's the common outlook and one we've all heard. and here in america (consumerist nation!), involving yourself in an enterprise of poverty is stupid. so yes, most people think art is stupid. it's sad but it's the case. it's what we contend with. most people do not spend their free time going to art galleries. they just don't. that being said, people who DO go to art galleries (the minority) are people that artists should want to have conversations with. if they care about art, they're in your audience regardless of what your work looks like or what your motivations are.

and on the topic of LOOKS and how it relates to the audience...

the small amount of control an artist has in relation to the audience is getting your work in the correct venue. example: if you make paintings, you wouldn't expect to show in a photography gallery, right? and more specifically, if you paint portraits, you wouldn't (or shouldn't) approach a landscape gallery for a show. that's NOT what that gallery is KNOWN for. and getting your portraits in a venue that caters to PORTRAITURE is the quickest, smartest way an artist can get their work in front of an audience that LIKES that kind of work. and that has absolutely NOTHING to do with compromise or anything along those lines. nothing.

just like the hard lesson i learned about running shoes and having the correct tool for the job, choosing the correct venue in which to show your work makes all the difference. it's a tool. and the experience of working with a good gallery is amazing. a good gallery will never tell you to start doing different work or to change your style or anything like that. ever. you've already considered your audience by doing the research to find out what kind of gallery suits your work. you'll run farther EASIER!

considering your audience has nothing at all to do will dumbing down your work or making things easy or spelling out every last detail. not one thing to do with it. it's about getting the stuff you've worked so hard on in front of people who will respect and appreciate it... because not everyone will. i know for a fact that my work isn't for everybody and that's okay. it's the way it should be.

who knows- as the conversation on facebook progresses, i may end up eating my words on this. and as i get further in my career, my outlook may change. but i'm going to leave the door open on gaining insight from other people which is the entire point of this post. i made a decision a long time ago to leave the door open to having a change of heart and it has proved to be a very good decision.

YAWN...

geez. the day after a trip to the city, i always have such a hard time rolling out of bed! and this after yesterday's cheerful post about waking up early and taking care of business. ha! it's 8:30 and i'm just now starting to get a move on. there's a lot to be done today too. of all my errands, i only got two taken care of- dropping off the new painting and buying a pair of running shoes. the cute, bebe sport's i bought aren't worth a damn to run in. and so now i've learned the lesson the hard way and the answer is yes: it IS too much to ask to be comfortable AND stylish. ain't gonna happen, girls. no, no, no. and that kinda pisses me off, actually, because GOOD DESIGN ensures that the marriage of form and function is an equal one. where are all the good shoe designers? i guess they're all making heels and boots and stuff like that. the running shoe must be low man on the totem pole. and so in light of all this new found knowledge, i opted to buy one of the ugliest running shoes i could find. the company has a great reputation and i've known a few people who run marathons who swear by this particular shoe. i'll test it out for myself later on today and give you a full report. until then, i'm drinking coffee, playing in the paint, and trying to find the motivation to finally do the grocery shopping. and maybe a bit of laundry too. we'll see.

good morning Monday! rise and shine! HA!

i've been so excited to wake up lately. a strange thing for a night-owl to feel but it's completely true. it's amazing what hitting your stride in the studio can do for your self-confidence and outlook on life. the last time i remember feeling this high level of anticipation and wonderment about life was when i was 17 years old... fancied myself a writer and was reading 'On the Road'. i'd wake up early and scribble, scribble, scribble in my composition book and then read, read, read. i was so enthusiastic and in love with what i was doing, and that youthful enthusiasm has definitely woken back up. it's nice. very, very nice. :)

but today i'll pretty much have the day off from painting. i've got errands to run, the most important being the transport of the newest Lineage canvas out to the gallery for the 'Every 1' exhibition next month. i'm so excited to see it next to the previous canvas - the one where the girls are hugging - and see what kind of dialogue happens, what sort of charge buzzes between them. and besides, it's always fun hanging out in an art gallery. always. i'm hoping there will still be coffee when i arrive and lots of time to talk.

i made a lot of good head-way yesterday on two of the next canvasses in this series. i'm going full steam and very pleased with the results. there's definitely something to be said for the ACT of pursuing a prolific practice. the more you work, the more you learn. it's good to cover a lot ground, even if you're making a ton of mistakes while you're doing it. mistakes are your friend and best teacher. i don't mind them and i hope i never stop making them. a mistake is what keeps you fresh and open. mistakes prevent "formula" from invading your practice. they nourish exploration and experimentation instead. thank the angry god of confusion and mishap for blessing art with such an awesome learning curve. the process of MAKING ensures that we will always, to one degree or another, be students; we will always have our wonder. what a big, beautiful blessing that is.

sunday, sunday, sunday...

intention. that word's been coming up a lot lately. i've been thinking about it for days and days and days. how to satisfy it... how to make it clear... but also, how to leave the door open to other interpretations of the image... how to be generous AND accurate at the same time. it's a back and forth, back and forth kind of thing. a buzz that lives in the line. a kind of call that slinks around in the back of a shadow. i need to go back to my art history books, i think. look and read and hunt. i need to open my theory books and underline, underline, underline... see what other people are saying, receive their insights, and disagree with them if need be...

but not today. today is sunday and the light is bright and good which means it's a day for pushing paint around. as i work, my own intentions become clearer and i feel good about what i'm doing.

last night, my sweetie and i went to the zyzzyva reception at mina dresden. so much art on the walls! and all black and white! SWOON! and an awesome turn-out too! the place was packed and everyone seemed happy and approachable (well, mostly. ha! you know how art receptions can be sometimes). it made me feel good to see that many people together in a room just to look at art and talk about art and show support for the work that artists do. heart-warming. and so today i'm back at my canvasses. i've got two side by side and i'm moving back and forth, back and forth between them- snuggling with one, bruising the other, catering to both.

the work...

i'm trying my hardest to be a freight train... the way i was in school... always with my head and hands stuck in the paint... always thinking about what painting IS, what it DOES, what it MEANS, and what it's capable of...

this work has me all twisted up- a sign i'm on fertile ground. i've got 3 more canvasses going (if you count the problem child of the bunch) and i'm anxious to start a fourth. i don't want to get away from this image any time soon. i need to follow this one. it's a good teacher. it's generous and demanding. and the 10 hour painting day has helped me relearn a great many things. there's no substitute for crawling in the dirt, getting stuck in the mud, and learning how to deal with mistakes and presumptions and falsehoods. i'm in a place where there is no excuse for laziness or complacency- everything counts. everything. and i really feel like i'm getting back to the place i was upon graduation- a place where i know how to live with the work... a place where i'm alright... a place where wrestling and yelling is expected and acceptable and prized even... a place where intention is important and necessary... a place where intention is king. it's a land whose terrain i know i'm able to climb and all the scrapes and bruises are just part of the exploration.

the maids have become as important to me as the Anonymous Girl series. they are just as beloved. they are just as eager to get out in to the world. and it's to their credit that they aren't for everyone. i know there is a sinister quality in these canvasses and that's exactly what makes them intriguing, smart, heartfelt, and important. i know they're a bit odd-ball, a bit macabre, a bit uncomfortable... i know that, in some ways, they're challenging... but that's what makes them interesting. that's what gives them a real, hard, true voice.

they stand.

after a long day of painting...

i'm finally feeling like it's appropriate to give the title "done". after much ado, struggle, and the annoying back and forth dance that is process, i give you Lineage 3-


Lineage 3
44" x 38"
oil on canvas
angela simione, 2009

and the secret finally comes out...

so about three months ago i started dropping hints that something really wonderful had happened. that's when all the chardonnay drinking started. ha! well, i finally got clearance from my gallery today that i can let the cat out of the bag and stick this new info on my resume:

a painting by yours truly is one of the most recent acquisitions of the Microsoft Art Collection.

OHHHH MYYYYY GODDDDDD! YAAAAAYYYYY!

i was completely flabbergasted when i first got the call that this was about to happen. completely awe-struck and dumb-founded and speechless. i was wearing a cheesy grin for an effing month! i mean, what did i do to deserve such an amazing honor? i was beside myself. completely. and i still kind of am. it seems completely unreal to me. entirely mysterious and graceful and humbling. i still don't really know how to talk about it or what to think. all i know is that i am intensely thankful. so so so completely full of gratitude and appreciation. it is an amazing act of support and a huge dose of self-confidence to my path and practice (and self).

so without further ado, this is the piece... courtesy of the Microsoft Art Collection (hee hee hee - it feels really good to say that!).


Anonymous Girl 2
oil on canvas (9 panels)
12" x 89"
angela simione, 2008

today...

painting, painting, painting...

staring, staring, staring...

i started a new canvas today so that i'd have something a bit more active to do other than sitting and staring at the most recent of the maid portraits. i'll post a pic soon, i'm just in that odd phase of second-guessing myself, wondering if i need to put down one more layer of paint, or if i'm just being a total idiot who needs to learn how to let go. soon. i promise. i can only torture myself so long before i shout out "done!" and send it out in to the world.

and so it goes...

for the passed week i've been living inside this painting. i've been in it. and after taking a jog this morning, i realized it's time to step back. i'm too close to it to make any real judgement about what it is and is not doing- how it functions and what it needs. well, right now, today, i think it needs some breathing room. for however anxious i am to give it the title of 'done', i'm more concerned with being respectful of the process and giving each work the time it needs to whisper its wants to me. i've been on 10 hour days for a week and that should be more than enough to make me feel proud of myself. besides, it'd do me some good to get out of the house too. i need to track down a good pair of running shoes. this entire time, i've been doing The Jog in my trusty, old pair of hot pink converse. no good. and one of my ankles is beginning to feel a bit fucked up. just the excuse i need to walk away from the painting for a couple hours: shopping. :)

staring contest...

the little, annoying-voiced perfectionist that lives inside me refuses to let me call a painting 'done' until every last inch of it has been scrutinized and wrestled with. people walk by and they don't see the mistakes or any of the small short-comings... but she sees them. and she won't let me rest until they've all been fixed. there's no such thing as "good enough" and there's definitely no such thing as "basically finished". whenever i let these phrases pop out of my mouth, the little, annoying-voiced perfectionist springs up and screams, "there is no such thing as basically finished! it's either finished or it isn't and it isn't! pull your head out of your ass and get back to work, stupid!" ha! yes, this is how i talk to myself during the late stages of a painting... stupid this and stupid that and lazy piece of shit and blah, blah, blah. not very nice but necessary. apparently, my little, annoying-voiced perfectionist shares a bed with a weepy masochist. hmmm.

turns out he was right all along...

i could've easily stayed in bed until noon but the day is waiting and i've got stuff to do.

as i made coffee, i checked in on all the work i did to my canvas yesterday and OH she is gorgeous! the work looks so much different, so much more refined once it's dry. i don't think there's much left to be done. i'm going to lug her outside and stare at her. stare and wait.

yesterday, i learned how to use the loathed fan brush. i've always hated that damn brush because of it's bob ross, happy little trees connotation. but damn that brush is awesome! i was completely wrong about it. it is the perfect tool for smoothing lines and working in dry-brush. just amazing. a total eureka moment. i called my buddy mike who i've gone back and forth with about the ridiculousness of this brush and conceded victory to him. he was... IS right. that crazy, annoying, happy little trees brush worked wonders for me yesterday. teach me to never second guess good ol' bob again, god rest his soul.

long, long day with aching legs...

oh, i am worn out. another 10 hour painting day. and in order to accommodate my renewed zeal for painting, i've been doing The Jog in the evenings... and blogging in the evenings too it seems. which sort of sucks because at this point in the day i'm spent. but all the hard work is definitely paying off. the sacrifice of my morning routines is worth it. i'm still getting up early, still drinking coffee and scribbling in my notebook, i'm just pushing everything else to the end of the day once my painting has been worked as hard as it can be. the 3rd Lineage canvas should be finished tomorrow.

i am happy and tired and craving corn dogs or something that would be as equally bad. i must resist. or not. it's no fun being good ALL the time.

tonight i have no other plans other than getting in bed early. here's to a much needed 10 hour sleep.

happiness...

i am on 10 hour painting days. something clicked in to place...

a small turn of the ribbon... a tiny whisker twitching....
whatever it is, i am in the work in a way i didn't expect.

i wake up, make the coffee, and lug my canvasses outside to work in the beautiful, true country morning light. it has made all the difference. i am seeing better than i've seen in weeks. i suppose i'm in love. :) tricks i'd forgotten or let go of have returned to rest in my hands. today, i even impressed myself. ha! i am glad, gladder, gladdest, and the day goes by too fast, far too quickly, and i ache for morning to come back.

the alarm clock has become a welcome sound.

practice, practice, practice...

ever since my wonderful day in the city, i've been so hungry for the work; excited and thankful to be at the canvas. i only stopped painting today because i ran out of white paint. zinc white. and i couldn't continue without it. so i put down my brush and went to the art store and, in addition to zinc white, i also got this great, strange black called 'german earth'. i'm a sucker for a cool name. :) i'm so anxious to try it out and see what i can do with it but by the time i got back home the light outside was no good and i'm finished with fighting a losing battle against the yellow light inside my home. i end up with having so much to fix that it's really not worth it just to feed my painting urges. good light is the most important of all painting materials... and i'm done learning that lesson the hard way.

practice, practice, practice...

my painting arm hurts.

:)

whooo...

i am beat! i mean BEAT! i slept and slept and slept and didn't manage to drag my silly self out of bed today until 9 o'clock. yikes! that's like... 4 hours behind schedule! oops. looks like The Jog will have to wait until this afternoon. by the time i'm done drinking coffee it'll be much too hot for the little girl to spend a solid hour running and hiking around in the blaze of the sun. i do not want to stroke out my little dog. so in the mean time, painting will be the order of the day. my usual. :)

yesterday, i spent the day in the city and it was absolutely wonderful. WONDERFUL! i met the lovely mina dresden (highlight of my day, week, month!) and the show she's got up right now, Jet Lag, is stunning. if you like work with a solid conceptual core, you'll love this show. the work is just beautiful!

after that, i dropped Lineage 2 off at the gallery and joked around with all my buddies over there. it's always such a great time at HANG. it really is. everybody who works there is super cool and not bourgie in the least and loves to talk as much as i do... well, almost as much as i do. i wake up talking, so... i'm a bit hard to beat when it comes to that sort of thing. :)

and then after that, i went over to the Studio Gallery to pick up some old work of mine and talk with jen and rab. they are such sweethearts. so positive and happy and light-hearted. it's always fun stopping in to talk with them for a bit and see all the new work on the walls.

i had an awesome day. awesome. and by 9 o'clock last night i was completely wiped out and heading to bed. i slept a solid 12 hours. dang! super dang! guess i needed the rest, huh! ha!

anyway, my maids need some attention. it's sunny and bright and a good day for working outside. i like working outside in the beautiful natural light and people stopping by to check out what i'm doing and my dog sniffing around and a glass of wine from the neighbor during break time.

waiting pages...

while arranging and re-arranging and re-curating all of my many portfolios, i came across a pretty big collection of collages. these two really caught my eye and, as a pair, look so good together. seeing these again for the first time in months really got me itching to do some text-based work again (aside from the banners).




there's just such poetry in work like this and the repetitive action of writing the same word over and over and over again lends a healthy conceptual bend to the work... albeit, obsessive.



waiting pages
21" x 16" (irregular)
ink on collage
angela simione, 2008



waiting pages detail


available at black fence

back to work...

oh, i can't tell you how good it feels to have the second Lineage painting completed! after i finished and photographed the canvas yesterday, i got to work on number 3 for about 2 hours and then decided it was alright if i took the rest of the day off. and it was. i took an evening walk through the vineyards with my neighbor and our dogs, found a new favorite flower (i have no clue what its name is),talked for hours, and (of course) enjoyed some tasty, tasty, tasty chardonnay. :)

today, i'm back to the regular program of coffee, morning writing, The Jog, and a full day of painting. i've got a few errands to run too- another trip to the Goodwill is in order. the more i get rid of, the better. our little cottage is looking so spacious and light-filled lately, i want to keep up my steam with that end of things.

it's so easy for me to ignore the dishes and laundry and all the stuff that comes along for the ride when you've got a place of your own. gone are the days of mom when the dishes magically cleaned themselves and the carpet was always fresh. this is the part of adulthood i dislike- cleaning up after yourself. ha! not that my mom cleaned up after me (we had our fair share of housework and chores growing up), i've just always hated cleaning. i hate it. those commercials where the women are having a vacuum race with big smiles on their face just kills me. nothing could be further from the truth. nothing. i know Snoop Dog enjoys vacuuming... he finds it to be calming... but he's a big ol' pothead and i'm not.

done! finally!

Lineage 2 (Hush)
48" x 36"
oil on canvas
angela simione, 2009

oh, sangria...

i made sure to put my sangria in a to-go cup. yes, one of those big, red, plastic numbers and it's sitting on the desk right next to my left elbow right this second. yes, i am out unchaperoned, cruising the wild corners of the internet, leaving alcohol fueled comments again. ha! sangria, i cannot turn you away. yu-uh-my! if you've never had it, i suggest it- cuban style if you've got options.

my day has been, start to finish, full of friendship and warmth and thankfulness and easy generosity. people are wonderful. the simple things really are what matter most. love and understanding and compassion are FREE... and i think that the giving of these things is what makes a person free. joy is contagious if you let it be. unexpected goodness rained down from the far stretches of internet-land this weekend and i feel blessed in so many ways. WORDS MATTER. blessed in too many ways to count and i can honestly say all the struggle, the whole up-hill battle of it all, has been worth it and will always be.

yum (again)...

my stomach is grumbling and angry. i've only put coffee and milk in it today. painting has taken such amazing precedence this weekend. amazing. i'll have more proof for you tomorrow.

me and my sweetie are returning the favor tonight and making dinner for the neighbors. there will be lots of men around the table. working men who get their hands dirty and cuss like crazy but all boyish-like. cute and silly and playful and protective lovers of women. i love men like that. men who are rough and tumble but respectful and good-natured and humble and fun. men are amazing and mysterious creatures to me. we must make a ton of food. another neighbor is bring sangria. :)

yum...

just past midnight... i've been at the neighbor's house drinking wine. they invited my sweetie and i over for spaghetti but... well, you know how it goes. all it really takes is hearing the cork come out of the bottle and the whole room is ready to drink and running to find a glass. especially when it's good wine. and thanks (or no thanks) to living in wine country, i'm getting quite the wine education which i fear could possibly one day make me a wine snob. i'm already a pretty big art snob. adding wine snob to the list might be a bit much but it's just so good. sometimes there's nothing better than a glass of really good wine on a warm night with laughing friends. nothing.

accidently...

i am always the last to board the train. i never know where the train station is, when the trains are coming, or why they come at all. i don't really even consider trains until i look down and realize i've managed to smuggle myself on to one. and this one, it seems, left before i arrived and i am left to stand on the platform knowing i missed something worth knowing. can it be true? girl meets NYC is no more? best of luck to you, brave sweet girl. maintain that soft romance and fearlessness of yours. :)

in progress...

yesterday...


today...



and the day's still young.

---

i haven't eaten a thing yet. inside and out, it's been oil as sustenance: coffee, paint, coffee, paint. i'm finally heating up some soup to steady my hands and comfort my stomach. this close to the finish line but still so far from satisfaction. i lose myself in the paint. my eyes hunt the details, the shadows, the folds of the dress for any small mishap or overlooked moment that needs to be defined, lulled out of it's dark corner, caressed in to being, begged at and fought for and loved beyond compare.

this is one of three canvasses i took outside to work on in clear light. neighbors, construction workers, unknown men came by and looked, watched. they loved the fact there are no faces. they stared and smiled and said "good job, kiddo!" i'll eat my soup and head back. days like this are days you don't quit. eating is secondary. cleaning is irrelevant. sleep seems stupid and erroneous. days like this you don't let up- you pull the sails taught.

grey day...

it is a drizzly morning out this way- grey and wet with hazelnut coffee and a sleepy rottweiler. and 6oo miles away, my sister is waking up to her 26th birthday. i wish i could be there.

my paintings are leaning against every wall in the living room. my little studio is just too little to handle my many big canvasses. i'm so dang close to having two finished that the slow work of ending is driving me bananas. i want to see them done! ahhhhh! maybe today. maybe. but there are a few more mono prints to paint on too which is fun and maybe i'll make some more here at home, press them by hand, and have a great rainy day indoors. working in ink is always a good time.

grey dress...

took a little break from the "serious" painting and went to work on my mono prints from the other day at SFU. velvety matte, black gouache is one of my absolute favorite things in the whole world.



untitled
15" x 22"
mono print
angela simione 2009

and grey dresses too. :)

p.s.

i suppose this is what happens after graduation... the thing everybody warns you about but is of supreme importance: learning how to work without constant access to guidance and critique. i sure do miss crits. i really, really miss crits... for as odd and masochistic as that may seem. it took awhile for me to settle in to the next phase of my work but it's here now and i'm grateful for the struggle that led to it. better to flounder than not work at all- a sad and all too common occurrence for a lot of artists after getting the piece of paper. day-jobs and money concerns get in the way pretty easily and person's art practice begins to take a back seat. i'm lucky i survived that part and didn't fall victim to it. i'm lucky that i went down that road of working full time and working full time before ever going to art school. i'm lucky to be involved with a gallery; especially one that supports my practice completely and is always willing to work with me and offer insight and compassion and help me over the hurdles of maintaining a prolific pace. quite a few feathers in my cap. sometimes, i forget that. i get so wound up in what i think i should be doing and should be accomplishing rather than just trusting the work and respecting the process. the sparkle of things can be distracting but long hours alone in the studio is what really matters. that and getting the work off your own walls and out in to the world where they can actually work their magic. it is a tough, tough road for sure but it's the best road i've ever found myself on and i wouldn't give it up for anything.

the dance continues...

i've been up since 5:30, working since 6:15, and am already knee deep in process. yesterday's idea to let The Jog wait until evening proved to be a bad one. oops. :( so today i'm back on board with my waking rituals and routines. they help too much to let myself slide too far away. and in spite of making a fair amount of progress on 2 canvasses yesterday, i feel bad for not getting exercise. i did take inga on an evening walk but it's not nearly the same thing. not nearly. focusing on keeping my legs moving and my breathing controlled offers a breed of clarity that i've really been benefiting from in the studio. finishing the 1.7 miles in the morning kicks my day off with a sense of strength and accomplishment which quickly translates in to some pretty effective painting once i get back home. i must continue and let the process be what it is and not let things like my NOW, NOW, NOW enthusiasm for progress get in the way of, well, progress. :)

last night i did a bit of grant and residency research. i'm trying to force myself back in to a "homework" state of mind. the dreaded artist statement re-write is upon me. i need to do 2. one for my practice in general, and one specifically tailored to the maids. i suppose it'd be okay to put the latter off a bit longer- i should probably finish up the 4 canvasses i've got going before i get all analytical and stuff about it. besides, with each new work, the ideas i'm working with become simultaneously more clear and more complex. i need to follow the process and explore the image and see what it's really capable of before i start making concrete statements about how the paintings are meant to function. the brainiac stuff can wait. for now, the work is personal and i want to enjoy that end of things for awhile longer. it makes for better painting, more sensitive and sincere painting.

the day awaits.

the dance...

after an amazing weekend of printing and land-sailing (yes, LAND sailing! my first time and so completely fun and scary!), painting takes priority today. The Jog will have to wait until this afternoon. an iffy decision on my part but i've got to spend as many hours in the studio today as i can possibly stand. the painful final moments of a painting has arrived- the staring, scrutinizing, debilitating critique of a piece. lay down a single mark then back up as far away from the work as possible and look for what comes next. it is a slow dance but entirely necessary and this painting deserves the best i've got. and so the torture of critiquing my technical abilities will be endured and the anguish of meeting my limitations will commence. the painting requires it. this awful stage is what nourishes the work as a whole and i've got no say in the matter. when it's over, i'll be thankful. i'll be endless in my happiness and i'll feel nothing but sheer gratitude toward the process. this is the learning curve. every canvas is a learning curve. i'll always be a stumbling student, humbled by the enormous expanse of what there is to learn about art, painting, composition, technique, etc, etc, etc. today, i feel completely novice... but it's okay. i suppose one should always feel this way. it keeps the heart in a state of longing and, as far as art in concerned, that's the right place to be.