i've been a good girl since last october when the diagnosis came. resisted the urge to go online and freak myself out by reading the research available about pancreatic cancer.
but i've stopped being a good girl. it's a member of my immediate family. i am reading it. i know what the statistics are.
relatives have been calling, getting in touch through Facebook, reaching out to me and my siblings.
based on what i've read, surviving this since october is, itself, a miracle.
i am so grateful for that.
and also, for as hard and painful and scary as this whole thing is, i'm grateful for being forced to look at mortality close-up, in a new way- a way that is biological, not theoretical. it's easy to expound upon the horrors of the world from a safe distance. theories show their holes when you get up-close and personal. the importance of love and hope starts to shimmer. the shimmer builds in to a beautiful shine. we begin to twinkle in our moments together. we begin to feel thankful. certain histories finally find a resting place.
other histories don't. beasts i thought had been conquered, or at least put in to a deep, unbreakable hibernation, have come slinking out of their caves. the beasts awaken. writhe. scream. blood in their mouths and caked to the claw.
i feel lost some days. i spend a lot of time feeling afraid of the world but, somehow, still loving it. somehow, still wanting to help. somehow, not sarcastic. still... this weighty fear. fear that i will make the wrong decision, the wrong turn, waste my time, waste the time of others, and staring with my gaping O of a mouth at how horribly short Time is.
all i can think some days is hurry hurry, get the paintings out so she can see them. so she can see i accomplished something. so she can be proud of me.
there are lots of mornings when i want to ignore the alarm clock. i hear it and think what's the fucking point? plenty of mornings where i wake up feeling so stunted and small, just like a little girl. floundering and frail and just so bent up by fear. the dark. no night-light. no angels. no open door. there are mornings i wake up crying.
i reach for my notebook. i reach for my pencils. i make drawings.
the amazing/odd thing about it, is that i'm doing the best work i've ever done. at least that's the way it looks to my eye. somehow this fear has armed me with an unexpected drive to push the work further, go deeper, take chances, be brave in a way i hadn't yet learned to do.
there is a lot of anger in it. there is a lot of sadness. but i think there's also a lot of hope.
it's the hope that lives in these pieces that are the most important part. it is the portion of the work that i am most proud of. it is the site i try to lay down in. i live so far away from her.
since the beginning it seems, our little family has been a magnet for tragedy. i know we're not exceptional in that. tragedy is not as rare as people like to believe it is. nevertheless, the division and splintering and unfixable things that have resulted are really hard to look at some days.
the divorce. the swimming accident. my father. ambulances. hospitals. halo bolted to skull. poverty. ugliness. abuses. falling in with a bad crowd. bad mean boyfriend. scary situations. and then the work of repairing one's mind, one's broken heart, one's dream of life. and now cancer. now chemo.
these are the things i'm writing about in The Letter- the 9,000 words that have been typed out and are morphing in to something else. i have no clue what yet but it just keeps on pouring pouring pouring on days when i'm strong enough to be a vehicle for it.
this is the well that all the new work is rising from.
and the new work brings me closer to the kind of artist i want to be. the kind of human i want to be. to find a way to create some sort of beneficial, hopeful thing out of all this. but it also leads me away from certain ideas, certain places. it has to. it's unavoidable. the lineage has become clearer.
it's time to take certain risks.
it's scary and sad and overwhelming, but it's also a very positive action. ask any baby bird about the terror of the free fall when they are first urged out of the nest. that's the stage i'm in. it is a necessary stage.
because if i say i mean it and i say i believe in the power and worth of art and i say art saves lives, then i am charged to follow a particular road. a road that has all sorts of barricades across it and all sorts of pitfalls and potholes, a road that has no caution signs, a road that will be dark and lonely at times. but i must follow it. i must. i have to try to be brave. and so i cut away my safety net, in spite of all the things that are going on within my family... or maybe because of them. maybe it is because i see how short and uncertain a single life is. how full of opportunity, how full of chance, how full of the inexplicable...
i've asked to be released from my contract. the gallery agrees it is time. it is sad for both of us even though it is best for both of us. we've been building toward this moment for a year. it's time for this baby bird to jump. it's good to have support in this. it's good to find myself in the position to take a good hard look at my work and the kind of artist i am. this is an opportunity for me to get very specific about my goals as an artist, to work and struggle as hard as i can. i'm lucky to have so much encouragement from the people in my life. i'm lucky for the open door that remains. i'm lucky to have the friendship and support i've received. i'm very lucky.
and mostly, lucky to have art in my life. this outlet. this desire to make maps out of all these things. maps and poems and portraits. documents of hope. documents of desire. documents of my passage through this world. i am not joking when i say ART SAVES LIVES. it does. it has saved mine, over and over again, since the very beginning. and i am blessed.
i am very very very blessed.
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Jul 28, 2010
May 18, 2010
the work work
good morning!!!!
it is another drizzly day here in wine land, another excuse to curl in to my self, my little world, my little spin spin spin of ink and oil and words. i spent a large part of yesterday writing a letter of intent for an artist residency. not easy. i have pages and pages of notes and little snippets culled from this blog about my ideas and intentions. i am trying to put them all in a line. it's time to try for the Big Stuff. in fact, i made myself a deadlines list. it's right here next to the computer so that i am forced to be aware of the date, of the time, of the schedule of the outside world. it is a good thing and i feel motivated to reach a hand toward my aspirations- even if the rejection letter comes as a result, it is good to get in the habit of trying. it is good to be in practice of dealing with rejection, not allowing it to derail you, to gain a bit more hard experience of what it is to believe in your own work. the art thing isn't supposed to be easy. how's the saying go? if it came in a bottle, every one would have it. it's true. people want to know that you're dedicated... that you mean it. and it has nothing to do with seeking approval. it has to do with standing your ground until you are the last man standing. it has to do with insistence and perseverance and a show of dedication that states you'll keep going no matter what. rejection after rejection, you come back.
i applied to this particular residency 2 years ago, fresh out of school, and was promptly rejected. ha! and i don't think it had as much to do with my portfolio as it did how i discussed the work and what my intentions were. it was a pretty crazy time in life and i'm sure the letter itself was distracted. and now, after a lot of change and struggle and wrestling with ideas, i feel much more prepared to attempt this again. the work (and how i think about it) is so much different today. so much deeper. so much more meaningful. but i'll admit i'm pretty daunted about it. all i can do is write and re-write and re-write. it's due in about two and a half weeks. the portfolio of work is compiled and ready to go. but The Letter still looms. work work work. and hope hope hope. and try try try. i've been rejected enough that it doesn't get to me all that badly anymore. the initial sting of it, the dashed dream, sucks, but it doesn't defeat me. it's worth a shot.
a pot of coffee is brewing. the morning is wet and grey and silent. no distractions other than myself. ;)
it is another drizzly day here in wine land, another excuse to curl in to my self, my little world, my little spin spin spin of ink and oil and words. i spent a large part of yesterday writing a letter of intent for an artist residency. not easy. i have pages and pages of notes and little snippets culled from this blog about my ideas and intentions. i am trying to put them all in a line. it's time to try for the Big Stuff. in fact, i made myself a deadlines list. it's right here next to the computer so that i am forced to be aware of the date, of the time, of the schedule of the outside world. it is a good thing and i feel motivated to reach a hand toward my aspirations- even if the rejection letter comes as a result, it is good to get in the habit of trying. it is good to be in practice of dealing with rejection, not allowing it to derail you, to gain a bit more hard experience of what it is to believe in your own work. the art thing isn't supposed to be easy. how's the saying go? if it came in a bottle, every one would have it. it's true. people want to know that you're dedicated... that you mean it. and it has nothing to do with seeking approval. it has to do with standing your ground until you are the last man standing. it has to do with insistence and perseverance and a show of dedication that states you'll keep going no matter what. rejection after rejection, you come back.
i applied to this particular residency 2 years ago, fresh out of school, and was promptly rejected. ha! and i don't think it had as much to do with my portfolio as it did how i discussed the work and what my intentions were. it was a pretty crazy time in life and i'm sure the letter itself was distracted. and now, after a lot of change and struggle and wrestling with ideas, i feel much more prepared to attempt this again. the work (and how i think about it) is so much different today. so much deeper. so much more meaningful. but i'll admit i'm pretty daunted about it. all i can do is write and re-write and re-write. it's due in about two and a half weeks. the portfolio of work is compiled and ready to go. but The Letter still looms. work work work. and hope hope hope. and try try try. i've been rejected enough that it doesn't get to me all that badly anymore. the initial sting of it, the dashed dream, sucks, but it doesn't defeat me. it's worth a shot.
a pot of coffee is brewing. the morning is wet and grey and silent. no distractions other than myself. ;)
Jun 24, 2009
bare with me, it's a biggun! shoes, facebook, and the art biz...
oh man. OH MAN! these shoes are WONDERFUL! AH! what a difference! now i know why the guy at the shoe store cringed so hard when i told him that i'd been running in an old pair of beat up converse. ha! i mean, it's a completely different experience! i can run farther EASIER. it's unbelievable! and i don't breathe as hard either. i'm truly amazed how having the correct tool for the job impacts the job itself- something i've sorta always known but hadn't applied to the jogging thing honestly because (1) i've been a cheap ass and (2) hung up on the cuteness factor. stupid! lesson learned! and the brand is: saucony! take my recommendation, guys and girls, these shoes are IT! accept no substitute! this is the shoe for you! :)
and now back on to art talk-
so... facebook is just another social networking site right? well, not quite. if you make "friends" with the right people, it's actually a pretty nice tool to have in your bag. i've made sure to make "friends" with every art institution, gallery, whatever that i can think of that i admire and would love to work with one day. i get regular updates about openings and it really does help to know WHEN stuff happens if you'd like to be a part of it. also, i'm currently enmeshed in a wonderful (sometimes enraging) conversation about the role of the audience in an artist's process or approach to art-making. it's all i can think about for the last three days since this conversation started. hearing how other people interpret this issue has been both shocking and insightful and has given me tons of new ideas to consider. TONS! i haven't really gotten to have conversations about things like this since art-school. it's so much fun! so here we go...
the audience.
this is a topic that applies to artists who want to show their work in public. and i'm still learning the ropes on this one too so bare with me and please chime in if you've got something to say. :)
in my opinion, it's not really up to an artist WHO gets to be in their audience. it's not something you have much control over. if people like your work (or are even intrigued by it), they're in your audience. and what they have to say about your work is information that can only help you. at least, that's been the case with me. example: if i painted a picture of a cow and 99 out of 100 people said it was a painting of a duck... that's good information to have. it's information i can USE! now, to me, it'll probably always be a painting of a cow, but the truth is that i inadvertently learned how to paint a duck. i might not have succeeded in satisfying my original intention, but i've learned something... i've gained a skill that i didn't bet on. it's not a bad thing and it's not a negative critique either, it's INSIGHT in to HOW people SEE your work. and once you've made the leap to showing your work in a public venue, you need to realize that you've opened the door to having discourse. you can't shout out statements and then slam the door, refusing to let others respond. art is a form of conversation. it creates a space for discussion and sometimes the discussion heads in a direction that the artist would never have even dreamed of. that's part of the fun. and it's valuable to know how the majority of people see your work. very valuable. that kind of information is just what you need to know how to tweak your work in such a way that mistaking your intentions will happen with increasingly less regularity. and i do not mean that you compromise the work at all- it's about tightening up your skills and not thinking that you're smarter than the audience and that they're just there to be told what to do and how to think. because the cold, hard truth of the matter is that the vast majority of people on the planet DO NOT CARE ABOUT ART. evidence: the fact that art programs are always the first thing on the chopping block... even in times of economic health and stability and growth. more evidence: the common adage "starving artist". most people believe that there's absolutely no money to be made in art and that a person who decides to follow this road is resigning themselves to a life of poverty and toil. definitely not the truth but it's the common outlook and one we've all heard. and here in america (consumerist nation!), involving yourself in an enterprise of poverty is stupid. so yes, most people think art is stupid. it's sad but it's the case. it's what we contend with. most people do not spend their free time going to art galleries. they just don't. that being said, people who DO go to art galleries (the minority) are people that artists should want to have conversations with. if they care about art, they're in your audience regardless of what your work looks like or what your motivations are.
and on the topic of LOOKS and how it relates to the audience...
the small amount of control an artist has in relation to the audience is getting your work in the correct venue. example: if you make paintings, you wouldn't expect to show in a photography gallery, right? and more specifically, if you paint portraits, you wouldn't (or shouldn't) approach a landscape gallery for a show. that's NOT what that gallery is KNOWN for. and getting your portraits in a venue that caters to PORTRAITURE is the quickest, smartest way an artist can get their work in front of an audience that LIKES that kind of work. and that has absolutely NOTHING to do with compromise or anything along those lines. nothing.
just like the hard lesson i learned about running shoes and having the correct tool for the job, choosing the correct venue in which to show your work makes all the difference. it's a tool. and the experience of working with a good gallery is amazing. a good gallery will never tell you to start doing different work or to change your style or anything like that. ever. you've already considered your audience by doing the research to find out what kind of gallery suits your work. you'll run farther EASIER!
considering your audience has nothing at all to do will dumbing down your work or making things easy or spelling out every last detail. not one thing to do with it. it's about getting the stuff you've worked so hard on in front of people who will respect and appreciate it... because not everyone will. i know for a fact that my work isn't for everybody and that's okay. it's the way it should be.
who knows- as the conversation on facebook progresses, i may end up eating my words on this. and as i get further in my career, my outlook may change. but i'm going to leave the door open on gaining insight from other people which is the entire point of this post. i made a decision a long time ago to leave the door open to having a change of heart and it has proved to be a very good decision.
and now back on to art talk-
so... facebook is just another social networking site right? well, not quite. if you make "friends" with the right people, it's actually a pretty nice tool to have in your bag. i've made sure to make "friends" with every art institution, gallery, whatever that i can think of that i admire and would love to work with one day. i get regular updates about openings and it really does help to know WHEN stuff happens if you'd like to be a part of it. also, i'm currently enmeshed in a wonderful (sometimes enraging) conversation about the role of the audience in an artist's process or approach to art-making. it's all i can think about for the last three days since this conversation started. hearing how other people interpret this issue has been both shocking and insightful and has given me tons of new ideas to consider. TONS! i haven't really gotten to have conversations about things like this since art-school. it's so much fun! so here we go...
the audience.
this is a topic that applies to artists who want to show their work in public. and i'm still learning the ropes on this one too so bare with me and please chime in if you've got something to say. :)
in my opinion, it's not really up to an artist WHO gets to be in their audience. it's not something you have much control over. if people like your work (or are even intrigued by it), they're in your audience. and what they have to say about your work is information that can only help you. at least, that's been the case with me. example: if i painted a picture of a cow and 99 out of 100 people said it was a painting of a duck... that's good information to have. it's information i can USE! now, to me, it'll probably always be a painting of a cow, but the truth is that i inadvertently learned how to paint a duck. i might not have succeeded in satisfying my original intention, but i've learned something... i've gained a skill that i didn't bet on. it's not a bad thing and it's not a negative critique either, it's INSIGHT in to HOW people SEE your work. and once you've made the leap to showing your work in a public venue, you need to realize that you've opened the door to having discourse. you can't shout out statements and then slam the door, refusing to let others respond. art is a form of conversation. it creates a space for discussion and sometimes the discussion heads in a direction that the artist would never have even dreamed of. that's part of the fun. and it's valuable to know how the majority of people see your work. very valuable. that kind of information is just what you need to know how to tweak your work in such a way that mistaking your intentions will happen with increasingly less regularity. and i do not mean that you compromise the work at all- it's about tightening up your skills and not thinking that you're smarter than the audience and that they're just there to be told what to do and how to think. because the cold, hard truth of the matter is that the vast majority of people on the planet DO NOT CARE ABOUT ART. evidence: the fact that art programs are always the first thing on the chopping block... even in times of economic health and stability and growth. more evidence: the common adage "starving artist". most people believe that there's absolutely no money to be made in art and that a person who decides to follow this road is resigning themselves to a life of poverty and toil. definitely not the truth but it's the common outlook and one we've all heard. and here in america (consumerist nation!), involving yourself in an enterprise of poverty is stupid. so yes, most people think art is stupid. it's sad but it's the case. it's what we contend with. most people do not spend their free time going to art galleries. they just don't. that being said, people who DO go to art galleries (the minority) are people that artists should want to have conversations with. if they care about art, they're in your audience regardless of what your work looks like or what your motivations are.
and on the topic of LOOKS and how it relates to the audience...
the small amount of control an artist has in relation to the audience is getting your work in the correct venue. example: if you make paintings, you wouldn't expect to show in a photography gallery, right? and more specifically, if you paint portraits, you wouldn't (or shouldn't) approach a landscape gallery for a show. that's NOT what that gallery is KNOWN for. and getting your portraits in a venue that caters to PORTRAITURE is the quickest, smartest way an artist can get their work in front of an audience that LIKES that kind of work. and that has absolutely NOTHING to do with compromise or anything along those lines. nothing.
just like the hard lesson i learned about running shoes and having the correct tool for the job, choosing the correct venue in which to show your work makes all the difference. it's a tool. and the experience of working with a good gallery is amazing. a good gallery will never tell you to start doing different work or to change your style or anything like that. ever. you've already considered your audience by doing the research to find out what kind of gallery suits your work. you'll run farther EASIER!
considering your audience has nothing at all to do will dumbing down your work or making things easy or spelling out every last detail. not one thing to do with it. it's about getting the stuff you've worked so hard on in front of people who will respect and appreciate it... because not everyone will. i know for a fact that my work isn't for everybody and that's okay. it's the way it should be.
who knows- as the conversation on facebook progresses, i may end up eating my words on this. and as i get further in my career, my outlook may change. but i'm going to leave the door open on gaining insight from other people which is the entire point of this post. i made a decision a long time ago to leave the door open to having a change of heart and it has proved to be a very good decision.
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