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.

May 24, 2010

whirl

this day has moved fast fast fast. i look up and it's afternoon already. almost evening. a dizzying array of words spilled out after hours at the canvas. i am worn out but then there's the feeling of the chase still stuck in my fingers and shoulders and heart and brain. chase chase chase the thing down. and really, i have no clue what it is i'm writing. it's all locked up in my notebook and i don't have the fortitude right now to dig it up and type it out. the scribbling was so wild that i'm a bit high-strung from it all. dizzy. but hungry. that feeling of absolute need. a headache on the horizon, i'm sure. ha! but whatever it is- all these paintings and poem-type things that i have no idea what they are, feel important. they need attention and polish and patience too. patience is something i am bad at when it comes to all this. i get so excited and i just want to find a way to send it out in to the world. but these weeks of keeping so much work to myself, hanging on the wall for just me to look at, and pages open just for me to read... it makes a nest in a way i haven't had in a long time. this slowness is necessary. the baking hours. incubation and protection.
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2 comments:

Elisabeth said...

I've written it elsewhere, Angela, but it bears repeating, the words from AS Byatt's novel in part aboit the artist Van Gogh 'Still Life' seem so apt here:

" She remembered from what now seemed the astonishing free and spacious days of her education the phenomenon of the first day's work on a task. One had to peel one's mind from its run of preoccupations: coffee to buy, am I in love, the yellow dress needs mending, Tim is unhappy, what is wrong with Marcus, how shall I live my life? It took time before the task in hand seemed possible, and more before it came to life, and more still before it became imperative and obsessive.

There had to be a time before thought, a wool-gathering time when nothing happened, a time of yawning, of wandering eyes and feet, of reluctance to do what would finally become delightful and energetic. Threads of thought had to rise and be gathered and catch on other threads of old thought, from some unused memory store."

Forgive me if I've already given you this quote. To me the words bear repeating. I often quote them in blogs to people.

It's a beautiful reminder that we need patience. Things will come.

May 24, 2010 at 8:14 PM
angela simione said...

"a wool-gathering time..."

i love that. yes and yes and yes. thank you fo rthis quote! you hadn't given it to me yet. and you're welcome to quote it here as often as you want- it DOES bear repeating! and i am in much need of these beautiful reminders that things will come when they are meant to come as long as i hold up my end of the bargain.

i have never thought of these moments as a beauty or a necessity- this time "before thought". it calms me and reassures me. thank you. :)

May 24, 2010 at 8:44 PM

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