i'm having a hard hard time waking up today. at least in terms of feeling energetic. i am worn out! is there such a thing as too much reading???? too much writing???? too much drawing???? i suppose it's possible. there is definitely such a thing as too much thinking (i'm guilty of it more often than not) and all these things are just other modes of thinking so... yeah. but i've got my coffee and another sunny morning so i should be able to shape up here pretty soon. there's a lot of work to be done. i wrote almost all day long yesterday and i'd like to edit for a bit if it's at all possible. usually it seems like it takes a couple of days for me to back up enough to be able to see what's really going on and become detached enough to start sacrificing words, slicing up phrases, and pretending it's someone elses work so i can reek havoc on the thing. but i've also noticed that if i'm not in the fire things start getting watered down. it becomes obvious i'm trying too hard. at least it seems like that to me. when it all comes tumbling out in one jarring bolt is when it ends up being the best lately. and i just read an article about art practice and how individual it is. completely specific, full of quirks and twists; and that it takes a while for an artist to recognize these little habits of theirs as being a source of nourishment to their practice as a whole- whether or not you sit or stand to paint (or write), whether or not you listen to music, talk to your dog, eat breakfast, etc. all these things, these small actions become a part of the ritual. i'm trying to learn how it goes for me. i seem to be in a place where i need to process a lot of ideas and images all at once- that's why so much drawing lately. oil painting takes too long. lots of sitting around literally waiting for paint to dry. and these short bursts of writing too. there's a quickness about it that i really like. it feels true. an immediate demand that is immediately satisfied. no wonder i feel worn out!
anyway, GOOD MORNING!
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.
my artist website is here.