EXACTLY!

went and visited our fair liege, the Radish King, and saw the exquisite picture of Glenn Gould lost in his ecstasy, his deep, dreadful loves, his deep, unseen dreaming- and this is exactly what i mean about learning the little idiosyncrasies of your own practice. the little twists that no one else understands but is so entirely necessary. a tool. a step in the ritual. it cannot be passed by without everything falling flat. maybe it is the cup you always always always take your coffee in? maybe it is a particular notebook to write in? maybe it is a particular time of day or night when it all floods easily and hot? maybe it is a chair?

good morning...

biting cold bright morning and me, bundled up, safe, warm, coffee in one hand, pen in the other, and scribble scribble scribble. my mornings. my wonderful wake up. i missed this while i was gone. a person's routine takes a back seat when in someone else's home... when there's a more pressing issue. but i'm glad to come back to it. thankful. endlessly. and my mama so proud of the life i'm building. all my sweet ways of being in my day. i woke up at my early hour and made coffee. i sat out on the front stoop, freezing, and wrote in my notebook until my hands were so cold they hurt. i came inside, turned on the heater, and kept writing. 12 pages this morning all in one burst. the gates opened and the ink slid out. there is a rhythm and a soft yearning in me. there is a quiet call working in my finger tips. there is a slow race in the corners, all the hidden places of a person, of me. there are cold beads of dew on the windows. my breath is white in the air. my dog curls up, hides from this chill, and me too- bundled up in fleece footie pajamas, thermal underneath, a beanie, and heavy, crocheted socks. winter arrived whilst we were away. and the yearning goes on. forward. undaunted. feeling its' way. waking up. a rhythm. a haunt. gratitude and mist and the white sun up in the sky.

the birthing of a new ritual...

i started my morning the way i always do- a pot of coffee and scribbling away in my journal. but rather than jump straight in to painting after that, me and inga went on a hike first thing. no one was really out and about yet so we had the entire acreage of the vineyard to ourselves. it was lovely, bright, and still chilly enough to wear a sweater. the birds were the only other life awake and in the huge silence of the woods that line the edge of the vineyard, sleepy mosquitoes buzzed lazily by without biting me even once.

when we got back to the house, i brewed a second pot of coffee and then sat on the front porch with the book i've been reading and finished it right away- letter to a child never born by oriana fallaci. without a doubt, one of the most intense things i've read... a document of sadness and loss in the extreme, "And before me stretch valleys of sadness where pride blooms in vain". beautiful... and i grieved with every printed word, every embarrassed confession, every hard judgement... a pleasure to begin a new day feeling wholly compassionate and sensitive toward the world, toward honest people- an honest blessing if ever there was one.

and then in the studio, i worked calmly and slowly for about 4 hours before deciding that i had had my fill of heavy seriousness and took a break to play with some lighter subject matter. the big gulp paintings rise again:




untitled (Angela's Backyard 4)
15" x 11"
gouache on paper
angela simione, 2009




untitled (Angela's Backyard 5)
15" x 11"
acrylic and gouache on paper
angela simione, 2009

the white in both of these little paintings is the white of untouched paper. the black is velvety, matte gouache, and in #5, the stripes and spills are defined with bronze and copper fluid acrylic. so much fun! and so worth the time it takes to harness a steady hand. :)

available at black fence.

ahhh...

still knee deep in my cleaning/weeding/sorting/discerning/discarding extravaganza but i'm sufficiently stocked up on coffee and managing to hold on to the initial inspiration that jump started this whirlwind of change and renewal.

today i took it a bit easier than i had the last few days and made time for painting and drawing. i finished another big gulp painting and will be taking two of those little sweeties to jen at SF Studio tomorrow afternoon for the march exhibition "Delicious". i'm so thrilled that people like those funny little paintings! yay!

and i started a sketch book - something i have tried and failed at many a time. this time around, it isn't just for quick sketches, notes, and doodles. i'm taping in old postcards from art shows i saw and admired, bits of poetry, scraps torn out of newspapers and magazines, and some real honest to goodness painting as well. i figured if i jammed all my little tokens of inspiration in to one place, it'd not only help me control the chaos that is my studio, but also become an extremely useful tool in terms of reference and ideas. i'm tired of losing good ideas because i don't have a space to store them. my neurotic, obsessive mind isn't good for that. :)

i've also made a huge pile of old artwork that needs to be gotten rid of. it's mostly stuff from the early years of studying art and really, really bad. some i'll keep because it's always good to hold on to a few pieces from a different time in life (to laugh at, at least), but i've saved way too much old art and i simply don't have the space for it all. and, back to the ritualistic outlook of this cleaning spree, i don't want the past following me around quite so closely anymore.

i'm an entirely different person than i was 4 years ago when i first moved to the Bay Area. i mean, i still laugh at farts and tell off-color jokes and have a wardrobe dominated by the color black. i still have my romantic fixation with broken, rusted objects and used books and hand-made sweaters. i still talk people's ears off and stay up way too late and drink way too much caffeine. but i've also got a much deeper set of ethics than i had before moving here and going to CCA. i've got a much stronger sense of self, a clearer idea of right and wrong (as it applies to my own life, anyway), and a much more forgiving, patient, compassionate demeanor. i've grown up alot and i suppose i just feel like it's time to let this new person flourish, not crowd her with relics from the past. i even threw out some old journals! GASP! it just wasn't worth waking up old ghosts to find snippets of good writing. so... in the recycle bin they went and, hopefully, their next incarnation will be much brighter and happier than their life with me was during those years.

as for today, i am feeling great. i feel positive and capable and happy. inga (my dog) and i have still been pretty diligent about going for jogs and hikes. we never miss more than a day at a time and those missed days are becoming fewer and fewer. i feel healthy and strong again. life is good.