monday, and i am glad for the solace a busy week provides. it is hard to get too stressed out by looking too far down the road when you've got a lot to do. Und ich habe viel zu tun. still, i'd love to be able to stay home and paint today. i spent my entire sunday with the work. i got lost in a big graphite piece and a big oil painting for most of the day and spend a few hours reading anais nin's diary (volume 2). i drank tea and practiced my german and then went back to the canvas. on may 16th, we install "May Fairs" at Project One in San Francisco. me, megan woolfe (YAY!!!! hi megan!), charmaine olivia, and chelsea brown have teamed up to bring you one brilliant and beautiful collection of work, that's for sure. the show opens wednesday, may 18th, and i definitely want to see you. do come by and give me hugs. i get to install my Worry Roses (for my mother, for myself) again and I am OVERJOYED that so many people like the peice. i am absolutely honored to get a new wall to show it on. the more air-time this piece gets, the better. huh, mama? :)

and then june 2nd... another group show in huntington beach. GO! GO! GO! and i'm praying that, between these two shows, much of the work will find their new and perfect homes. there's a wide, dark threshold i need to cross inside The Work and i want to make sure as many of my babies are in safe hands and working their magic out in the world as possible before i cross it. but i guess that's not really something i can do much about. all i can do is put the work up on a wall. all i can do is trust it. all i can do is keep going, keep pushing, and keep sliding the graphite across the page.

for as much fun as i'm having being back in school and learning new things and having a more concrete daily schedule, i'm really looking forward to summer when i can spend entire days reading and writing again, drawing and crocheting, no homework to worry over, just the freedom of Practice. 3 weeks to go. but honestly, it is a pleasure to have this much art to care for and think about and worry over. a pleasure and an honor. absolutely.

and now- back to back school and work.

have a wonderful day!

DECEMBER!!!!!! DUDE!!!!

wheredidnovembergo??????wheredidtheyeargo???????ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

but it sure has been a good ride. :) i mean it. for all the ups and downs and twists and turns and being of extra-humble means this year, 2010 has been pretty great. and it continues to be great as we move in to the home stretch. i've been so busy with the projects i've got going and trying to get them all wrapped up beautifully within the next four weeks. thankfully i've been a very good girl and the finish line is in sight. the next few days though might be kinda brutal. november just disappeared and december has begun and there is the december show to install at Slingshot in a few days. EEEK!!! i thought i had another 2 weeks to get my projects for new show finished! NOPE! good thing i've been working my tail off and am definitely on-time production wise, i'm just stunned how quickly our first month in the space went! tomorrow, i sit the gallery and, in terms of this particular exhibition, it's the last time you can see it and me at the same time so, if you haven't made it down yet, i'd love to see you. it'll be up until saturday for sure but i think we're taking all the work down on sunday.

also, i just finished my packet for one of the residencies i've been dreaming of and not a moment too soon. the post-mark "Due By" is tomorrow. hahahaha! and it's not like i waited until the last minute either. i've been arranging and re-arranging and writing and re-writing for WEEKS. this is why deadlines are actually a good thing: i could torture myself with this application forever.

and in other news, i'm actually really liking my new day-job. it's quite a change. i've never worked in a clothing store before. it's actually pretty fun. this particular shop has a really great group of people in it and they are all around my age which is FANTASTIC! i was afraid that i'd be the dinosaur in a group of 19 year olds. i definitely don't ever want to find myself in the "mother hen" role. no no no definitely not. i've been a second mother and the results are fairly fucked up so that's really not a role i ever want to inadvertently stumble in to again or acquire by default as the elder female in the group. gross. because i still feel 19 years old half the time myself. still stunned by the world and its events, still confused more often than i'd like to admit. but i'm learning that's the way it is for everybody: constant change and consistently struggling (in one form or another), and the struggles of 2010 have actually been what's made it so great. i've learned a lot and come through a lot and i feel more like myself than i have in a very long time. it's a wonderful feeling.

i'm rambling on and on now. time to put this post away and get myself to the post office before it closes so that i can send off my big envelope an entire day before the post-mark. hahaha!

tuesday morning art and politics with William Kentridge and Riot Grrl

William Kentridge: charcoal and torn paper and opera... the man is amazing. i fell in love with his work, with his mind, the very first time i saw it. i am lucky that my first experience with his work was in the flesh, face to face at LACMA. i was 20 at the time, i think. my mother and i decided to drive out to LA and see what was going on one day, completely spur of the moment, and that's when i learned of William Kentridge. immediately, i was at home with his images and aesthetic. i was working primarily in charcoal at the time. black charcoal and white acrylic together on a page- ghostly swirls of grey. and the second i saw Kentridge's work, i looked at my mom and said: SEE! someone else who loves charcoal! art can be made this way, it doesn't have to be oil paint! i was so excited! overjoyed! and then when my friend Daniela and i accidentily stumbled across his show in San Francisco when she was up here visiting a few months ago. gorgeous etchings based on Gogol's short-story The Nose.

over the weekend i watched the new Art:21 documentary about his current work and he seems like such a playful man. seeing his work is an experience that i can only really describe as Home Coming and it's so heart-warming to watch him in the studio. in the documentary, he speaks briefly about "the seriousness of play" and it reminds me of what poet Rebecca Loudon stresses- finding the site of deep play and there is where the poetry grows. and then later in the film, he says (and i am paraphrasing), "my life and work changed when i started seeing the world as Process rather than Fact". something about that statement hit me so hard. in the face, in the heart. it is still hitting me hard. it's so damn smart it makes my head spin. and i try to catch it so that i can hold it, apply it, trust it, such a brilliant tool! and of course, when i think i've managed to catch it i lose it again. isn't that always the way. ha! but there is something in that statement that is so inviting, so opposite what dominant american culture espouses... process rather than product. the Means rather than the End. a life's work, always UP UP UP. not climbing in the hopes of finding a pleasing plateau, but climbing because that is the job... to climb. and i know this is all romantic and beautiful and so i run to it as fast as i can! these kinds of ideas are so attractive to me. the idealist in me flings her arms wide open to embrace all this beauty of thought and action. my americanism snaps me back and squeezes my face, forces me to look at the goals that are permissible for me to have, the desires i am supposed to chase. the money plateau. green and leisurely. and then just sit there, just coast, do nothing but spend...

it is uncomfortable and lonely to be Outside but i must be Outside. i must remain Outside. in my sketch book, i have a quote written and i have no clue who said it but here it is: Becoming aware of your power to make choices and not go with the status quo is a huge first step.

last night before bed i read Joanne Gottlieb's and Gayle Wald's essay "Smells Like Teen Spirit: Riot Grrls, Revolution and Women in Independent Rock" about zines and music, power, how girls can create their own agency by resisting the cultural allure to stay inside, stay quiet, sit down, and continue the practice of minimization and silence within themselves... that something as seemingly simple as making a zine or t-shirt or stitching your own scarf is an act of resistance to the Status Quo... a dominant culture that still, right now, prefers everyone to fall in line, do what they're told, and do not make waves. this is definitely still the case. and right now, with all the economic worry and hardship and fear, i think it's an even scary proposition i'm making to ask myself (or anyone else) to ignore the status quo, basically forgo safety and security, in order to establish a bit of freedom for myself; a bit of agency, a bit of happiness. but look where the Status Quo got us! i mean... come on! the president cannot do a damn thing about individual levels of greed and feelings of entitlement. he just can't. that's my job and that's your job. it comes down to not only a re-evaluation of what we hold dear culturally, but also individually within our own homes and families. i simply cannot fall in line with the practices that led us to this place of completely unethical levels of spending and wanting and grabbing and enslaving others to our desire to collect as many status symbols as possible. i just can't do it. and ofcourse the temptation is there. it always will be. yes, money is a necessity in this era... but does the necessity of money mean it must be worshipped as a God?

in the William Kentridge documentary he relays a funny story about a friend of his who basically made fun of him for always trying to figure out what he should do, like, for a job. ha! and the friend told him, look, you're 28 and you're unemplyable. no one is going to give you a job. so stop arguing with your trajectory. success or failure, you're an artist. that's when William Kentridge decided to say fuck it and just be himself.

and so i had a hard time falling asleep because i was so excited and encouraged by the film and by what i had just read, but also a bit afraid. it's hard not to feel afraid once realizing that i am completely in control of my own life and it's really just a matter of what i'm willing to put myself through in order to build a life that feels right for me and is respectful of who i am. this comes back to what Kentridge said about seeing the world as Process rather than Fact: that the world is malleable, changeable, able to shift. and so i must somehow become ready to make a shift as well. it is the world in me that must change first. my body and all that it contains. my perceptions must shift. i must identify them as process, not as fact, and establish my agnecy through acts of art-making and writing and crocheting my own sweaters and running along the highway regardless of the perceptions of others. and somehow i must become okay with all this... to stop worrying about whether or not anyone understands what i'm doing and why it is relevant.

testing 1 2 3

working on an artist's statement. working, working, working.

i am a very wordy girl.

...


I am a thief. My practice is an evidence room.

The collections I present are sites that house stolen images, corrupted files, diary entries, favorite books, and family photographs. They are storerooms for the splinters of identity.

One by one, I hold the splinters up. I put them in a line. I shuffle them around. I crop the images, remove the bright colors, and pump up the contrast: I cover my tracks.

And then I allow the flaw of my hand and the imperfection of my eye to have their say. After having stolen, manipulated, and corrupted these images by impersonal digital means, they are finally processed through the body- its urges, desires, fears, pleasures, pains, and past. Digital information undergoes an organic digestion.

In this way, little by little, the ligature of secrecy exposes itself. Little by little, the knot is undone.

But my argument is not rhetorical. Rather it is the building of a heart-felt, insistent, and truthful allegory.

Through the shame-driven act of redaction, a poetics of surprising candor occurs. The collections I present, made up of largely stolen and corrupted individual "evidences", form a thoughtful whole that betray the state of longing itself.

As a thief compelled to act in her own defense, my attempt to hide my crimes exposes my shattered self.

My practice is a piece by piece mapping of the desire for cohesion and stability- the desire for a reckoning.

mmmm hmmmm. tell it, brother!

i've posted this video before but it's fits well with this day and the post below.








.

work

i have to start doing the paperwork end of being an artist soon. artist statements and letters of intent, that whole bit. it never gets any easier. as the work changes, the statement changes. and cutting it all down to 2 paragraphs is hard. i wish artist statements could be these sweet little chapbooks where i could just sort of ramble about all the stuff i care about. kinda like i do on this blog. :) it'd make writing an artist statement sooooo much easier.

but i must reign myself in and do it. there are a few things on the horizon that i'd absolutely love to be a part of. and though the deadlines are still a few months away, i'd like to get going on it now. months are short. time moves faster and faster. and so i've brought all the little icons of current work out on to my computer desktop where i shuffle them all around in to different collections, trying to see what gels, what works best. for a while i had all the paintings together and all the drawings together and did not mix and match them. but, as a Looker, i think mixing up the media is way more interesting that just ALL paintings or ALL drawings. unless that's ALL you do. and since i work in a couple different medias, i think it's best to let my portfolio represent that somehow. to let the work be married by concept rather than what it's made with. it's a good way to play with building a brand new portfolio.

and the portfolio is the most important part. it always will be. when i'm feeling down about how far i have to go or when i start feeling shaky about what i'm capable of, i go back to the portfolio job. it is king. and if it shines, you shine. it will always come back to the work. and the more i look at the way crochet paired with drawings function, the dialogue that is created, i am so fascinated and compelled by it. and paintings paired with textile work. it's amazing. and such wonderful conversations begin to happen between the pieces. it just feels good. it feels relevant.

so... keep playing, keep shuffling it all around. and keep working. i'm letting one idea bleed in to another, birth new ideas and directions and just not question it. just follow the impulse and don't look back too often. it's been good.

i have a ton of work that i haven't posted here yet. i guess i needed to keep it to myself for awhile. i still do. in the beginning of this blog, i posted every single painting i made that was even slightly good. and i want to be more thoughtful than that now. let the work sit. let me sit with it. see if it's an image i want floating around in the world. if it's an image that needs to be in the world. because a lot of what we do as artists is process work. work that you do in order to get to a new place. catharsis. and that work doesn't always need to be put on display i'm realizing. some of it should be allowed to live a quiet life behind the scenes. just like the scribblings in my diary. plus, i want there to be a few surprises when i start showing again. :) and i'm thinking sooner is better than later in regards to that. i think i should find a way to jump back in to the mix here pretty soon. it's been a month since i stopped showing, but i'm creeping up quickly on the end of 2 new bodies of work and a 3rd is well under way. that's a lot of work i'm storing. i need to get my confidence up, chew my finger nails, and push a few portfolios out the door. find the people in the world who adore that lovely black graphite as much as i do, reach out, and say hello.

today, i'll paint and see where i go. the work itself is pretty good at pointing out the road that feels true and best.

revision

i spent the entirety of yesterday going back and forth between two drawings and an essay on Revising Poetry. the day went by in a quick breeze of graphite and pages turned. the same few pages, over and over again, looking for an answer... but really, looking for an easy answer. the quick fix.

and then a very close friend of mine called crying. nothing tragic... except the tragedy of life itself... disillusionment. and feeling so pitifully unequal to the task before you. that horrible sigh that sweeps through your entire body. the sigh that says it's just so much work.

and though our daily circumstances are very different, the root issues that make up my and my friend's struggles are pretty much identical: tremendous worry and confidence that seems to fail too easily.

while we were talking i heard myself say: if i could just stop worrying so much, i'd get so much more done. all the time i spend worrying, all the time i spend trying to unearth myself from all this worry, could be spent actually working toward the goals i'm trying to reach. my own words sort of slapped me in the face. here i was, trying to build someone else up, trying to give them stamina for the fight, and i ended up saying exactly what i needed to hear. in fact, it's something that i need to hear on a fairly regular basis. that one step, one day, one drawing at a time, one word either read or written at a time, one thing learned, one thing gained, one inch at a time, i will end up building a life that feels right. it comes down to faith. belief in oneself... to keep the dream tight while the big bad world outside, rife with status symbols and expectations, screams NO in your face. to keep going, keep moving, no matter how short the ground i've gained is, in spite of the nay-sayers outside my window. to beat back my own disillusionment and truly believe in myself and the meaning i'm trying to create within my own life. do i really need re-assurance in order to do that? or even praise? those things sure do feel good, but are they really necessary?

i have always written. i have always made drawings and paintings. i have always sung in the shower. i think that as a result of being such a shy child, and also the massive tragedy that found my family so early, i clung to particular talents in an attempt to feel safe. these things became a sanctuary. they were the only site i had where i felt safe and was truly myself. opening up those talents to include the eyes and opinions of others is a very scary thing. basically, i don't want my sanctuary demolished or laughed at or called "flawed". and so i have to beat it in my head, over and over and over again, that my sanctuary is MINE, it's for ME, it is OF ME, and the words and eyes of others don't destroy that. it either welcomes them or it doesn't. and if my work fits well with the life of another human, it is a grand and beautiful thing. i can feel connected and strong and encouraged. i can feel less alone. but even if no one liked what i do, i'd still do it. i know this because that's always been the case. i've always written. i've always made pictures. i've always sung in the shower or some dark corner where no one could hear.

i guess becoming an artist is also about leaving the dark corner. finding a way to make that safety mobile. finding a way to carry the sanctuary with you, on your back like a hermit crab... a bookcase in the brain, all the bibles lined up one right after the other, and just say it matters to ME.

consistent, sustained action in a single direction. and if i come up against a wall and have to chip it down with my own toe-nails... well, that's exactly what has to happen then. and Revising Poetry feels pretty much just like that. this search. this wanting everything to work out... and work out RIGHT NOW. this dark road, no answer, except just keep going.

just keep going. just keep going. and don't make it bigger than it actually is. i have a very bad habit of that. i build things up to be so huge and scary and important in my own head... that nasty perfectionism that really only serves to silence me. that's where all this ridiculous worry originates. fear of my own imperfections. fear of being disappointing. fear of not being good enough. all the common worries of artists. of people in general.

part of maintaining my practice is learning how to trust the process of the thing itself. trusting that yesterday's activities of reading and drawing were, in fact, WORK and that i did move forward... whether or not i can actually feel it. a lot of the struggle of being an artist is overcoming a shit ton of really bad social and cultural lessons- definitions of what constitutes success, what constitutes value.

a lot of this is simply going my own way and not worrying about it so much.

and so... like revising poetry, it's going to take lots of time and effort and somehow managing to acquire fresh eyes every now and then. gaining a new perspective, a fresh perspective, and not giving up. and when i get stale-mated, put it in the drawer and come back to it later when i've learned more, experienced more, and have a better attitude about the task at hand... when i'm not so worried about "what it all means!" and "but is it even any good?"

sometimes, i have to try to let the joy of the act be enough. because it is. it really really is. and to wrap my mind around the fact that, YES, even "work" can be joyful.

here i am

hello! good morning! i missed you! :)

i missed the click of the keys below my fingers and this time in the morning to ramble on and on. but it was wonderful to have a friend here. especially daniela. we've been friends since we were 14. we met walking home from school one day and have been close ever since. she brought pictures taken when we were ditching school one day, trying on the clothes in the Scottish Shop. hahaha! kilts and jackets and hats! hilarious! and, though we look the same to each other, we look like total babies in the photographs. and the entire time she was here we laughed hard! just picked right back up from where we left off like not a day had passed since the last time we saw each other. we also had a lot of heart-to-hearts too. though our circumstances are different, we are in the same place of transition- realizing our own adulthood, considering ethics and values and trying to choose a path through life rather than having the path choose us. that stage. that scary, daunting stage full of uncertainty and anxiety. the fear. and so fate brings us together just at the right time when we can talk and explore and wrestle together for a week- laugh at ourselves and help each other along. having my longest friend here in my home all to myself was so encouraging and just plain joyful.

and now- coffee and the early fog and scribbling in my notebook. the meandering of my morning routine. the chill and the quiet. i wrote for a solid 2 hours this morning. my path becoming clearer and clearer. integrity as necessity. ethics as a MUST. courage. courage. courage. and, as elisabeth relayed, "the continual TRY".

all of a sudden, so many people bought work down at the gallery. THANK YOU! i can't even tell you what security you have provided! what encouragement and faith! and right in time! just what i needed, just what i was craving! the grand NUDGE to keep moving forward. ((((HUGE HUG)))) you lend me such bravery.

as my pencil scratches, i become more and more self-assured, more rooted in the relevance of the work, the necessity of my practice. i begin to feel like Kusama- that my work is "art medicine". i need it. i cherish it. i believe in it. i will follow it wherever it leads.

and last week, we just played. i started crocheting a new banner and painted some more little alices that need to be adorned with glitter and stamped out some hearts to be cut out and hung on the wall. :) fun and healing and playful. that stuff is so necessary within my practice- doing something light-hearted gives me strength to continue exploring Loss and what it means, how it effects us, and what benefits it can provide... that ruined landscape is also the site where hope springs... and how to locate that hope, that flowering, that incentive to continue. the grand NUDGE again and again. HOPE as a call to brave, compassionate action.

i'm happy to be back inside the Blackland. happy to ramble on and wrestle. i didn't get on the computer at all really while daniela was here. there's a lot to read and write back about, a lot to catch up on, a lot of research to continue, a lot to learn. but it was wonderful to have a little vacation here at home. i am recharged and resolved and reassured, and i'm very happy to see you! good morning! :)

rappers, comic book artists, painters, musicians, and actors agree:

:)

oh, i am worn out. i'm very glad tomorrow is saturday and i can sleep in a bit.

after finishing the beast yesterday, i started priming another canvas of the same size. i've noticed that doing the grunt work, the prep work, keeps me hungry for the "real" work. the nuts and bolts of a practice are very important- the little things that keep you rolling forward. my shoulder muscle is sore and it feels good.

i haven't enjoyed such a big explosion of creativity in a long time it seems. but i guess (maybe) (possibly) i haven't been myself in a long time either... and these things are linked. chained. padlocked together.

for awhile there, i think i mistook the dreams other people held for me for the dreams i have for myself. i think i got really hung up on what other people expected or wanted and lost sight of what i want to do with my life and time. and i think that happened because for awhile there, the two sets of dreams lined up. they matched. and so i didn't notice right away that my dreams were trying to change. or maybe i did and i got sad about it, resisted it. the death of a dream can be a painful thing.

but it isn't a bad thing. hard, but not bad. and it's actually quite freeing to get to a place in life where trusting my instincts is the right thing to do. to have the ability to trust them is wonderful. a whole new way of seeing comes in to play and i begin to trust myself and trust the work in a deeper way. fearlessness breeds fearlessness. confidence breeds confidence. i feel better and better. i'm being myself. i'm opening up. i'm experiencing a tremendous wealth of new ideas, new interests. and this gives rise to new dreams. amended dreams. some dreams just needed a bit of a tweak and that's happening now.

and reading has been such a large part of that. reading widely, not just sticking to what i know. i actively search for new material, new ideas, contemporary authors and poets and bloggers. and writing every morning in my notebook. first thing. first cup of coffee and the pen in my hand. that practice has been going on for about 2 years now and it has made all the difference.

so today, i'll be mindful of these things. read and write and go jogging with my dog. the sun is up and the sky is dry. i'll do the grunt work and get a healthy sweat going and i will trust that all these things matter because they DO make my life so much better. and i won't worry about a damn thing.

happy friday. ;)

4...

strange dreams all last night. i can't remember any of them. it is a frozen morning. smoke then steam. fog in the forest. white grey sky. moss on the tress pointing North.

it is monday.
my nose runs.
it looks like rain.

yesterday i managed to wash a few dishes. i drew The Anonymous Girls on a book page. splattered their covered faces with ink. sighed. the house is a wreck. but it's not nearly as dreary as it sounds. it's warm in here. and safe too. i'll do my best today to feign health in small ways at least. feign life. it is monday already. and the sky gone white. stillness. and the counting, counting, counting...

i am big on the ritual this time of year:

i tell myself- it is time to look in the mirror. time to wash the smoke out of your hair. get the monster out. don't let it follow you in to the next year, little one. do the work.

i remember how excited i was this day a year ago. i absolutely believed that the changing of the calendar was a magical thing. that the new year would sweep through, a tremendous broom, and clear out all the old ghosts. take the webs out of my doors and i'd wake new year's day to find everything clean and bright and in it's right place. an eye-blink. corrected. proper. pure. i honestly did believe that.

and here we are again. the same day a year later. on the hinge on the new. but this time around i've built my own broom. i'm doing the cleaning myself. my own hands, my own pen and page, my canvasses waiting on the wall. sweeping, sweeping. slowly, slowly. but it is a sure thing. and i am still hopeful for some magic. i have new eyes this time. eyes that are able to see such things. and i know, for sure, what tools to use to clean my own slate.

be gentle with yourself.

i love you.

i'm not the only one.

sigh...

i cannot stress what an absolutely beautiful day it is today. just stunning. i took The Almighty Jog a bit earlier today and it was then that i noticed how beautiful it is where i live. the big rain that came through brought out so many green and pretty things and the air was fresh and clean and the sky was wide open, blue as blue can be, and i felt happy to be running through it all with my dog bouncing along at my side. i came home, measured my waist (because i haven't done that in a while and i'm supposed to be keeping track of this stuff) and discovered i've lost another inch! yay me! and so i tried on a pair of pants my tall, lean mama gave me about a year and a half ago - a pair of pants that are super cool but that i couldn't really fit in to - and THEY FIT! AHHHHHHHHHH! i've got 'em on right now! and not all squeezed in, suffocating, cutting off blood flow to my legs style either. i am COMFORTABLE in them! it's a wonderful, wonderful feeling! it's so nice to see the changes i'm trying to make in my life take root. it encourages me to show that same level of dedication and faithfulness in other areas of my life. areas where progress is sometimes hard to see and the reward for hard work is really the self-investigation that such changes require.

and i've been painting all day. it seems like it's been so long since i've painted ALL DAY LONG. and i have definitely missed the feeling. i feel so focused and calm today, so grateful for so many things. i guess the gratitude fridge is working some magic! it's nice to have all those reminders sitting there waiting to be read while i wash the dishes, make dinner, or even scan for midnight snacks. it's doing me a world of good right now and helping me to remain positive and objective about things. i feel encouraged and hopeful and just happy.

it is a beautiful day here. i hope it is where you are too. :)