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.
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.
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