i am slowly re-acclimating to my daily life in California. it helped to have two days off from work. in between dealing with the rigmarole of a stolen car (stolen two months ago and then found the day i flew to new york) and the legal and financial headache that results from such an event, i walked around my neighborhood and took pictures.
the light was beautiful this afternoon. warm and yellow. somewhat
hopeful, somewhat sad. i walked down Shattuck Ave and took pictures of
graffiti. i walked to Berkeley and took more pictures. on film no less. it feels romantic and poetic in the best way. it'll be some weeks before i make it to the printers but it's exciting just the same. it's been at least 5 years since i've had film developed. there's just something about looking through that little window at the world. in NY i didn't take many pictures at all. i wanted to be entirely in the moment, each and every second. i didn't want to be a spectator or documentarian, i wanted to be human. i wanted to be alive and full of flaws. i wanted to sweat and cuss and laugh and that's exactly what i did. in fact, i haven't taken many pictures at all for the passed several years other than to document art. i'm not sure where the urge to make photographs went or why it left me. seeing the francesca woodman retrospective at SFMOMA at the beginning of the year woke up an old, hidden urge. it woke up so many ignored desires. it woke up a forgotten courage too.
and i've been writing like crazy. poems are spilling out of me again. little snippets of prose, descriptions of memories, secret desires and the way smiles look in the dark.
something has definitely changed within me. i visited my tiny storage unit for the first time in close to 7 months. everything inside seemed so foreign to me, distant, relics from a past life... the objects of ghosts. and when the wrecking crew came to collect my car this afternoon, i didn't remove the 7 year old art that was rolled up in the back seat. i let it get wrecked along with the rest.
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.