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 text. Show all posts
Showing posts with label text. Show all posts

Jun 4, 2013

just the beginning

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over a year in production, The Blanket of DOOM is finally finished.   mostly.  a few small tweaks here and there, a few loose yarn ends to be woven in to the grain of stitches, and a ton of photographs to take before i can legitimately refer to this project as Done.  in fact, it could be quite some time before i see the end of this particular piece.  the photo up top signals what i envision for The Blanket: a life prior to finding itself on display in a gallery.  we'll see where we end up together.  :)

but it is a happy moment to see her in all her good glory.  so many long hours and evening spent hooking away at this piece.  it is an expression of dedication and faith that, even if imperfect, the idea was a good one and to chase it to the end.  there were plenty of times at the very beginning of this massive undertaking that i wanted to give up, unravel the entire thing, and focus on smaller projects.  there were plenty of weeks when i didn't touch her at all.  couldn't.  even hated the idea of working on her.  there were plenty of times when i dreaded the work that needed to be done.  it seemed so endless.  impossible. 

when i finally reached the half-way mark, my hope and strength returned and i felt committed to seeing the project through to the end regardless of how it turned out.  i no longer needed it to be any good and i just wanted to make the blanket for me.  i began to see it as a landscape...  a road...  a way to learn something deeper about who i am and the type of artist and human i want to be.  a poem to wrap myself in.

Lea had said to me once, "your work is so devotional."  her voice came back to me so many times while i worked on The Blanket.  what is Devotion?  what is it to devote oneself to something?  what does it require?  it comes down to an unspeakable trust.  i trust my work with all that i am and all that i've got.  i entrusted my entire life and self to it a long time ago and haven't questioned it since.  my road through this world might very well be different from others but it is a good one and my work has proven itself to be the very best map and guide.

the picture of me laying on top of the Blanket of DOOM was taken this morning in my kitchen.  she takes up the entire floor.   i'm 5'6".  each letter in DIE is taller than i am.   but the work has always been, and always will be, bigger than me and that has nothing to do with physical scale.  :)




so happy i could DIE
crochet
kingsize blanket
angela simione, 2013










Feb 7, 2013

incriminating crochet

:)


not the most exciting video in the world but it's totally meant as a personal spiritual souvenir.


and you get to finally hear my voice and laugh.

nice to meet you.




Jan 24, 2013

BOOM AGAIN!

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walked down the way and dropped a bomb in front of Cakeland Gallery tonight in Oakland. crossed the street and picked up a bottle of vodka at Uptown Liquor afterward.  A very tall, beautiful woman walked in after me.  at the register she told me i was beautiful.  i had only just taken my tapestry needle out of my mouth and stuck it in my back pocket.  my smile was instant. 

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Sep 25, 2012

work work work

 


untitled texts
gouache on paper
each 30" x 22"
angela simione, 2012




tshirt and texts
sharpie on a white Hanes
angela simione, 2012


i absolutely love pushing these puddles of black gouache around and scribbling on white tshirts.  it makes my life endlessly better, save for the burning pain in my shoulder from hunching over these pieces of paper.  i like to work on the floor here in my white room, listening to sad songs and drinking greyhounds.  the pain is worth it and it always will be.  it gives rise to such an aching beauty.  especially the pain of writing these words in the first place.