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.
Showing posts with label isolation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label isolation. Show all posts

Dec 4, 2008

dolls...

YAY! a partially sunny day! i've been needing to get photographs taken of new work. here's one of the most recent - a throw back to The Paper Doll Project. i've been seeing more and more how closely tied the project is to my "regular" art practice. so close in fact that there's beginning to be almost no distinction between the two bodies of work. both deal with issues of loneliness, isolation, being lost in the masses, and the attempt to find some sort of comfort. in the case of The Paper Doll Project, the comfort that comes from copying an ideal...


doll collection 2
30" x 22"
ink on paper
2008

drawings like this actually take a pretty long time to do. each doll is hand drawn. i did not use a stamp. it's important in this work to have tiny variations between the dolls so that it's more an exploration of the ATTEMPT to copy... and the failure of not being able to really do so.


detail

i'm interested in how the attempt to copy (and the failure to to get it perfect) guides identity construction. we all have role models to look up to, heros, and ideals that we strive to meet. when the model is based exclusively on gender, what is lost in the process of trying to copy or conform? a standardization takes place and complying with that standardization is a loss in and of itself. that loss becomes a significant part/influence of a person's identity and their view of the world.

Oct 22, 2008

Page 28 (Blackland 2)



15" x 11"
ink on paper
2008


i don't know what took me so long to get around to the idea of drawing my very own book pages but i'm sure glad i finally did. i guess i had been sort of turned off by the idea of my own hand writing being present in the work. thankfully, i got over that weird little hang up and here she is... Page 28 (named after my age). the text reads "black as her ribbons" and i leave it to you to interpret that fragment in whatever way pleases you best.

(click on image for larger view)

Oct 21, 2008

collection...

last night before bed, i spread out a small collection of drawings and paintings i've done over the passed few weeks and was really pleased with what i saw-
there is such a solid direction and cohesiveness to this work that i guess i was entirely unaware of until seeing a few grouped together.



protect
24" x 17 3/4"
oil on canvas
2008

my investigation of the need for protection and the pleasure of safety are leading me to see the new poetry that is born inside trauma and fragmentation... the loss we tolerate when we put up fences and wondering where i can find the space to build a site of hope within all this obsessive seperation and fear...




untitled haven
9 3/4" x 6 1/4"
mixed media collage
2008

of course, we need fences but when do we stop building them? where is the guideline that we can turn to and say, "oops! one too many, let's take that last one down. we've lost too much."




all my cages were empty
5" x 5"
ink on torn book page
2008

sometimes the desire for protection doesn't rise from a healthy place. in the case of the edited document, it's a need for protection from embarrassment and an unwanted, damaging exposure. it hides information angrily... maliciously... a sign of the corruption of the one who wields the big black marker.




Anonymous Girls study
7 1/2" x 5 1/2"
ink on paper
2008

but i'm trying to find beauty anyway... these delicate phrases that remain in spite of the obliteration i've done to them.




dust flower
8 1/4" x 5 1/4"
acrylic on book page
2008

how gorgeous is the fragmented phrase "a dust flower". stunning. poetic. destruction and loss turned against itself.




the penalty (detail)
13" x 10"
mixed media collage
2008

i feel like i'm on the right track.

Jul 18, 2007

just painting...


no long diatribe today, friends. i think the feeling of isolation in this image is palpable enough.