THE WAY YOU NEED TO BE LOVED
19th and Broadway, Oakland CA
angela simione, 2014
this kind of work is so much fun to do. :)
Showing posts with label text-based art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label text-based art. Show all posts
Jan 9, 2014
downtown
.
THE WAY YOU NEED TO BE LOVED
19th and Broadway, Oakland CA
angela simione, 2014
this kind of work is so much fun to do. :)
THE WAY YOU NEED TO BE LOVED
19th and Broadway, Oakland CA
angela simione, 2014
this kind of work is so much fun to do. :)
Sep 5, 2013
in progress
.
i spent the majority of the day at home in bed with a cup of coffee and my crochet hook. i listened to french phonetics and repeated the words as i stitched away and wondered about myself and the life i've been creating vs. the life i want to create...
the way you (i) need to be loved...
i rounded the corner in to my 33rd year on september 3rd and seemed to instantly smack right into a new realm of self-knowledge like a fucking brick wall. i spent the day after my birthday mildly hungover, a bit forlorn, more than a bit worse for wear, and wearing the same dress i had worn the day before to one of my french classes. i fared well, all things considered, and had a great time in class (maybe being a bit brain dead even helped me absorb all the new information and sounds contained in this new language) but felt the closing of an era shake within me... or at least the need to bring an era to an end.
when i first became single a year and a half ago, i needed to live brashly. i needed to embrace my new freedom in a fiery, even outlandish, way. it was healing to do so and provided me with so many opportunities to see the world (and myself) in a new way, in a truer light, and without the bad habit of judgement and fear that so easily pollutes us all. it helped me shake off the expectations and hurt left over from a long-term relationship. that strange residue of pain, of unfulfillment and goals left to die. sometimes the death of a dream is more painful that the actual death of a loved one. it is hard to watch a fairytale fall in to disrepair. it is hard to watch a fairytale turn to total shit. it's even harder to not let the experience embitter you. i needed to be a bit wild for a time in order to heal from the effects of drudgery and heartbreak. i needed to reclaim something about myself that i'd given up along the way. but now, it's beginning to feel like the things that once provided me with a sense of healing are now becoming damaging. excessive in a way that does not lead to a greater sense of freedom and independence, but to a flippant attitude... a callous form of casualness that i absolutely do not want to adopt. i do not want to be Charles Bukowski, waking up to 300 hangovers a year, and wading through an endless barrage of damaged human beings and semi-meaningless experiences in an effort to combat the loneliness inherent to human existence. it is true that maybe my sense of loneliness is bigger than others, but i must learn how to bare it in a new way. i need to return to the work of devotion and exploration. i need to attempt to learn the difference between Bravery and Excess. both have their values and nuances but one should not be mistaken for the other. i have clung to beliefs and images of the world and life that perhaps i've outgrown. i crave a new sense of balance, a new expression of freedom, a new way to achieve comfort. i return to my hooks and books and the love i feel for bigger, better things than what i've allowed myself.
how do i need to be loved?
if i can manage to focus on that question, 33 will be a great year.
.
i spent the majority of the day at home in bed with a cup of coffee and my crochet hook. i listened to french phonetics and repeated the words as i stitched away and wondered about myself and the life i've been creating vs. the life i want to create...
the way you (i) need to be loved...
i rounded the corner in to my 33rd year on september 3rd and seemed to instantly smack right into a new realm of self-knowledge like a fucking brick wall. i spent the day after my birthday mildly hungover, a bit forlorn, more than a bit worse for wear, and wearing the same dress i had worn the day before to one of my french classes. i fared well, all things considered, and had a great time in class (maybe being a bit brain dead even helped me absorb all the new information and sounds contained in this new language) but felt the closing of an era shake within me... or at least the need to bring an era to an end.
when i first became single a year and a half ago, i needed to live brashly. i needed to embrace my new freedom in a fiery, even outlandish, way. it was healing to do so and provided me with so many opportunities to see the world (and myself) in a new way, in a truer light, and without the bad habit of judgement and fear that so easily pollutes us all. it helped me shake off the expectations and hurt left over from a long-term relationship. that strange residue of pain, of unfulfillment and goals left to die. sometimes the death of a dream is more painful that the actual death of a loved one. it is hard to watch a fairytale fall in to disrepair. it is hard to watch a fairytale turn to total shit. it's even harder to not let the experience embitter you. i needed to be a bit wild for a time in order to heal from the effects of drudgery and heartbreak. i needed to reclaim something about myself that i'd given up along the way. but now, it's beginning to feel like the things that once provided me with a sense of healing are now becoming damaging. excessive in a way that does not lead to a greater sense of freedom and independence, but to a flippant attitude... a callous form of casualness that i absolutely do not want to adopt. i do not want to be Charles Bukowski, waking up to 300 hangovers a year, and wading through an endless barrage of damaged human beings and semi-meaningless experiences in an effort to combat the loneliness inherent to human existence. it is true that maybe my sense of loneliness is bigger than others, but i must learn how to bare it in a new way. i need to return to the work of devotion and exploration. i need to attempt to learn the difference between Bravery and Excess. both have their values and nuances but one should not be mistaken for the other. i have clung to beliefs and images of the world and life that perhaps i've outgrown. i crave a new sense of balance, a new expression of freedom, a new way to achieve comfort. i return to my hooks and books and the love i feel for bigger, better things than what i've allowed myself.
how do i need to be loved?
if i can manage to focus on that question, 33 will be a great year.
.
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.
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.
Feb 6, 2013
Jan 24, 2013
BOOM AGAIN!
.
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.
.
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.
.
Jan 22, 2013
BOOM!
.
first ever yarnbomb dropped! 58oo block of Shattuck Ave in Oakland. if you're taking a stroll through my neighborhood, be sure to keep your eyes open for this. it's the very first in a series. i have a few more bombs in my bag ready to go off. :)
Sep 25, 2012
work work work
untitled texts
gouache on paper
each 30" x 22"
each 30" x 22"
angela simione, 2012
.JPG)
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.
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 18, 2012
Jan 26, 2012
Dec 21, 2011
Oct 22, 2011
red text
the sweaters make me think i should start thinking about performance. they are very performative, no? i love seeing them all together like this. you can see them all together too in just a few weeks at the Stemma Cell show at Craftswoman House in Pasadena. mark your calenders. a big red X (kiss).
Sep 18, 2009
fear and portraiture...
ah mannnnnnn... i've got a doctor's appointment this morning that i forgot all about. geez. i really don't want to go. i hate the doctor's office. hate, hate, HATE. i always get nervous they're gonna ask me to do something humiliating... like take all my clothes off and call everyone in to the room to poke and prod and gawk and comment. not all that far fetched, actually. something along those lines happened once and, now that i think of it, i should have sued or at least complained and got that doctor in trouble but that doesn't have anything to do with today and there should be no reason for the removal of clothing at this particular appointment. at any rate, i've been pacing back and forth since i woke up. i'm all anxiety. silly. i'll go, i'll go. i'll be a good little girl and do what i'm told, i suppose. ugg. maybe it'll give me something to write a poem with. that's looking at the bright side, right? ha! art-nerd alert! :)
i think it's safe to say i've been on quite the poetry kick for the passed few weeks. probably due to my two mini-vacations and being away from my paint, but it sure has been nice. i got a bit of painting done yesterday now that i'm back at home and it felt really good and i kept bouncing back and forth between my canvas and my notebook, one practice feeding the other.
the redaction pieces i've been making have become quite a nice tool in my bag as well. when i first started making them about two years ago, i had no idea what i'd use them for, all i knew was that i liked them and felt like it was a beneficial thing to do. i've always seen them as art-pieces in their own right and want to frame a whole bunch of them, but lately i've been using them for book-making and poetry stuff like the one in my post below. but not all of them will get used that way. some of them are meant to stand alone- act as a little scrap of evidence... allude to a lost history or identity... to talk about loss and silence and fragmentation. they are portraits in their own right. little biographies. the dangle of a secret.
and i am sleeping in my battle
9.25" x 6"
redacted book page
angela simione, 2009
i think it's safe to say i've been on quite the poetry kick for the passed few weeks. probably due to my two mini-vacations and being away from my paint, but it sure has been nice. i got a bit of painting done yesterday now that i'm back at home and it felt really good and i kept bouncing back and forth between my canvas and my notebook, one practice feeding the other.
the redaction pieces i've been making have become quite a nice tool in my bag as well. when i first started making them about two years ago, i had no idea what i'd use them for, all i knew was that i liked them and felt like it was a beneficial thing to do. i've always seen them as art-pieces in their own right and want to frame a whole bunch of them, but lately i've been using them for book-making and poetry stuff like the one in my post below. but not all of them will get used that way. some of them are meant to stand alone- act as a little scrap of evidence... allude to a lost history or identity... to talk about loss and silence and fragmentation. they are portraits in their own right. little biographies. the dangle of a secret.
and i am sleeping in my battle
9.25" x 6"
redacted book page
angela simione, 2009
Aug 7, 2009
pretty...
i've started playing around with book-making again. it's something i absolutely love but fell off the wagon with due to an asshole professor who gave me a bad grade just because she didn't like me. in fact, she made it pretty clear that that was exactly the reason why i didn't get an A. guess it's my fault since i'm the one who made the mistake of asking why i got the grade i got, right? no matter, i got that crap removed from my transcript anyhow- fall through units. ha!
anyway, i've felt bad for a really long time that i let one of the worlds' jerks ruin something i value and really enjoy doing so i've been playing around with the form, just sort of diving right in and seeing where i go. no plan, no safety net, no eraser. the one of a kind artist book is something i've always been so drawn to. they are gorgeous and special and so totally romantic. and i'm a big fan of romance.
this is what i did today. just getting my feet wet:
and that's gouache on every single page! i spent a ton of time waiting for paint to dry today. tons! you'd think i'd be use to that but NO. so i got some laundry done today too on the in between time.
text:
such a pretty girl
robbed of her bell
angela simione, 2009
anyway, i've felt bad for a really long time that i let one of the worlds' jerks ruin something i value and really enjoy doing so i've been playing around with the form, just sort of diving right in and seeing where i go. no plan, no safety net, no eraser. the one of a kind artist book is something i've always been so drawn to. they are gorgeous and special and so totally romantic. and i'm a big fan of romance.
this is what i did today. just getting my feet wet:
and that's gouache on every single page! i spent a ton of time waiting for paint to dry today. tons! you'd think i'd be use to that but NO. so i got some laundry done today too on the in between time.
text:
such a pretty girl
robbed of her bell
angela simione, 2009
Jun 9, 2009
waiting pages...
while arranging and re-arranging and re-curating all of my many portfolios, i came across a pretty big collection of collages. these two really caught my eye and, as a pair, look so good together. seeing these again for the first time in months really got me itching to do some text-based work again (aside from the banners).
there's just such poetry in work like this and the repetitive action of writing the same word over and over and over again lends a healthy conceptual bend to the work... albeit, obsessive.
waiting pages
21" x 16" (irregular)
ink on collage
angela simione, 2008
waiting pages detail
available at black fence
there's just such poetry in work like this and the repetitive action of writing the same word over and over and over again lends a healthy conceptual bend to the work... albeit, obsessive.
waiting pages
21" x 16" (irregular)
ink on collage
angela simione, 2008
waiting pages detail
available at black fence
Mar 24, 2009
the joys of redaction...
it's a great way to build a poem:
redacted book page
angela simione, 2009
click to enlarge image.
i'm thinking about making a book out of my huge collection of these - a single poem. a while back i made a long scroll out of these; so long that photographing it was pretty pointless because it just looked like a huge, white stripe. one of those things you gotta see in person to appreciate, i suppose. at any rate, it's a nice little marriage between the written and visual arts. and scratching out the printed words feels nice too.
redacted book page
angela simione, 2009
click to enlarge image.
i'm thinking about making a book out of my huge collection of these - a single poem. a while back i made a long scroll out of these; so long that photographing it was pretty pointless because it just looked like a huge, white stripe. one of those things you gotta see in person to appreciate, i suppose. at any rate, it's a nice little marriage between the written and visual arts. and scratching out the printed words feels nice too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)