call

last night i started reading 'a thousand plateaus' by deleuze and guattari of all things. i've been thinking of the book for weeks, feeling there's information somewhere inside this monster that i can use. especially after accepting the schizophrenic nature of my practice as a whole. the multiple personalities of it. the splintering. the fragments. the shattering that occurs almost daily. and then after reading The Bell Ringer, i saw that the act of sweeping up all the fragments, all the splinters, in to a pile and calling it a human that that is what my art practice is and has always been about. a collection of evidences. the appearance of the images i make only seem disparate. how they are produced - oil, graphite, collage, embroidery - accounts for this difference but they all are hauled up from the same deep well. so i will haul them up and lay them out to dry and work work work and take a peak at all these things in a couple weeks or maybe a couple months and see what i've got staring back at me. i'll see the red thread later when all these images are spread across the living room floor. not a second sooner. for now- just the taking in of ideas and information. deleuze and guattari paired with aase berg and angela pnueman and angela carter and rebecca loudon and hans christian andersen and patti smith and banks violette and ed ruscha and kiki smith and anna gaskel and gerhard richter and alice in wonderland. take it in, take it in, take it in and then go draw. don't worry about it just yet. don't think too hard about it. just draw. the drawing will help me process all these things. it always has if i just let it. i have such a fire of ideas in me right now. such a tremendous and beautiful burn. beyond smoldering. way beyond. i don't need to know where i'm going, i just need to GO! and this morning i stayed in bed for an hour after i woke up just thinking about art and the articles i've read recently and all the poetry and i thought "maybe art is more about noticing things- the connections or discrepancies and anomalies and fissures, not saying something concrete". and that thought felt right and made me feel good. i got out of bed then and poured my coffee and went outside in to this cold sunday, this last day of february, and wrote wrote wrote on my frigid stoop outside the front door.

good morning. :)