dear ariana reines,
for what it's worth, i really like what you're about. i saw a person talk some shit to you online in the comments section at Everyday Genius. i like the way you handled that. i liked it as much as i like your work and your blog, which is VERY MUCH. there's just something about what you do that gives me a lot of hope and i'm really appreciative of that. it makes me want to be more courageous and more attentive to ethics.
i like how you tell the truth. i like the words you use. i like your eyeglasses.
i like that you know you don't owe anybody anything and so all the work you make has a Gift function. i especially like that you MEAN IT- this art thing. again, it gives me a lot of hope.
thank you.
angela
Showing posts with label thank you. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thank you. Show all posts
Jul 27, 2010
Apr 23, 2010
smarty pants! :)
my reading list swells and swells. thank you to everyone who commented on yesterday's post! VERY VERY helpful and insightful and encouraging and greatly appreciated. THANK YOU!
p.s. the conversation continues over at Roz's blog! come on over if you'd like to keep talking. ;)
p.s. the conversation continues over at Roz's blog! come on over if you'd like to keep talking. ;)
Mar 19, 2010
happiness is adrenaline
i have a dentist appointment later this morning and then all sorts of running around to do afterward. businessy type things that get my adrenaline moving. it is the business end of this business that lights a fire under my ass in a way that i absolutely appreciate. and tomorrow it will be the same- dropping off 5 of the recent pieces to the gallery :)
having an out-side schedule is a wonderful thing. left to my own devices, which is usually the case, i judge myself too harshly. i think that i'm not doing enough and that, what i have done, is total shit. isn't that just the way it goes. shooooot. ;) but then the business end of things decides it needs attention and it gets me out of my own head to a place where i can see things a bit more clearly, a bit more accurately. a place where i can see i'm not all bad, that every now and then i find myself with a reason to give myself at least a small pat on the back. and so i'm grateful for it.
i'm just at the beginning, poverty stricken and wondering what to do next, and these confirmations arrive that give me the boost i need right when i need it most. and also, this blog. this weird digital land. i get such encouragement and a spreading warmth the longer i maintain this space. i'm just so welled up with gratitude this morning. i'm thankful for everyone who comes here, everyone who gives me a smile and a nod and says 'you're doing alright, kid". so so so thankful. :)
having an out-side schedule is a wonderful thing. left to my own devices, which is usually the case, i judge myself too harshly. i think that i'm not doing enough and that, what i have done, is total shit. isn't that just the way it goes. shooooot. ;) but then the business end of things decides it needs attention and it gets me out of my own head to a place where i can see things a bit more clearly, a bit more accurately. a place where i can see i'm not all bad, that every now and then i find myself with a reason to give myself at least a small pat on the back. and so i'm grateful for it.
i'm just at the beginning, poverty stricken and wondering what to do next, and these confirmations arrive that give me the boost i need right when i need it most. and also, this blog. this weird digital land. i get such encouragement and a spreading warmth the longer i maintain this space. i'm just so welled up with gratitude this morning. i'm thankful for everyone who comes here, everyone who gives me a smile and a nod and says 'you're doing alright, kid". so so so thankful. :)
Nov 23, 2009
thank you.
most people wouldn't know it (at least i hope they don't) but, the truth is, i have a tendency toward sadness that is life-long. it's been a struggle of mine for as long as i can remember. even as a child, i felt sad on a pretty regular basis. things were chaotic and, in the midst of that chaos, all i ever wanted to be was pleasing.
when i was in college, i thought that the majority of that chaos had been layed to rest a long, long time ago. i was wrong. and to be perfectly honest, i've only recently gotten out from under the weight of a pretty massive and painful 2 year long depression. 2 years. that's a long time to feel bad about yourself, your life, everything. and if not for the bravery of my mother and the kind patience of my sweetheart, i'd probably still be in that horrible place of self-hate. i could not shake myself loose from it... and i can only imagine how painful it was for the people in my life who love me to watch me become so frail, so scared, so fed-up with my self... so opposite who they know me to be.
my practice slowed to a crawl. it took months to finish a painting that should've only taken a few weeks. and when i noticed this, i felt even worse. all i could see was failure. failure everywhere. not good enough, not smart enough, not refined or beautiful or important.
now, i'm amazed i got any work done at all during that time. absolutely amazed. while i was going through it, i kept reminding myself 'the work will save you. the work will save you. it's saved you so many times'. i made a point to at least try to trust it... especially when i felt there was nothing else i could trust. and there were moments all along the way where i achieved that trust but, looking back, it is glaringly apparent that i started building enormous hurdles, contingencies, expectations, and stringent rules about art, my practice, what qualifies and what doesn't, definitions for success... all which hurt my life's work... hurt me.
this blog has cataloged a lot of this in spite of my attempts to keep it quiet. it's all here. the strange struggle that i think is normal for artists. our identity is wrapped up in the work. it's impossible for the work not to suffer when we are suffering. and this isn't a bad thing so maybe i should've been more open about it at the time... it might've helped someone else. it might've helped me. but those damned contingencies were in the way and i just couldn't allow myself to share something i thought was shameful. that child's desire, the "i only ever wanted to be pleasing" was too active. i was not strong enough to expose the reality i lived in. i was afraid of getting THE LOOK. i was afraid of compromising my career, people's opinions of me, not meeting their expectations, not meeting my own.
but what about the saying 'many hands make light work'.
i take comfort in it. newly.
a comfort i historically deny myself.
it takes honesty. honesty is not any easy thing. it's hard to know, in times of deep sadness, what the truth even is, let alone speak it. but one thing is certain- my practice did save me when i let it. when i was honest, it fueled me and lifted me up. it gave me such a tremendous hope. a hope worth focusing on, keeping in front of my eyes, not blinking away.
and this space. this undefinable world, built in text and light, has become such a wonder, such a privilege... a document of hope.
when i was in college, i thought that the majority of that chaos had been layed to rest a long, long time ago. i was wrong. and to be perfectly honest, i've only recently gotten out from under the weight of a pretty massive and painful 2 year long depression. 2 years. that's a long time to feel bad about yourself, your life, everything. and if not for the bravery of my mother and the kind patience of my sweetheart, i'd probably still be in that horrible place of self-hate. i could not shake myself loose from it... and i can only imagine how painful it was for the people in my life who love me to watch me become so frail, so scared, so fed-up with my self... so opposite who they know me to be.
my practice slowed to a crawl. it took months to finish a painting that should've only taken a few weeks. and when i noticed this, i felt even worse. all i could see was failure. failure everywhere. not good enough, not smart enough, not refined or beautiful or important.
now, i'm amazed i got any work done at all during that time. absolutely amazed. while i was going through it, i kept reminding myself 'the work will save you. the work will save you. it's saved you so many times'. i made a point to at least try to trust it... especially when i felt there was nothing else i could trust. and there were moments all along the way where i achieved that trust but, looking back, it is glaringly apparent that i started building enormous hurdles, contingencies, expectations, and stringent rules about art, my practice, what qualifies and what doesn't, definitions for success... all which hurt my life's work... hurt me.
this blog has cataloged a lot of this in spite of my attempts to keep it quiet. it's all here. the strange struggle that i think is normal for artists. our identity is wrapped up in the work. it's impossible for the work not to suffer when we are suffering. and this isn't a bad thing so maybe i should've been more open about it at the time... it might've helped someone else. it might've helped me. but those damned contingencies were in the way and i just couldn't allow myself to share something i thought was shameful. that child's desire, the "i only ever wanted to be pleasing" was too active. i was not strong enough to expose the reality i lived in. i was afraid of getting THE LOOK. i was afraid of compromising my career, people's opinions of me, not meeting their expectations, not meeting my own.
but what about the saying 'many hands make light work'.
i take comfort in it. newly.
a comfort i historically deny myself.
it takes honesty. honesty is not any easy thing. it's hard to know, in times of deep sadness, what the truth even is, let alone speak it. but one thing is certain- my practice did save me when i let it. when i was honest, it fueled me and lifted me up. it gave me such a tremendous hope. a hope worth focusing on, keeping in front of my eyes, not blinking away.
and this space. this undefinable world, built in text and light, has become such a wonder, such a privilege... a document of hope.
Oct 5, 2009
thank you...
at times my faith has wavered. at times my trust has slid away from me and i get get angry. i feel lost. i feel alone...
my faith in art, as a daily practice and way of living, has saved me over and over again. and even in those moments when my faith has become low and weak, art has persisted. art itself. and has carried me back to a place of humility and trust. i know that as long as i paint and write and breathe everything will be okay. i'll end up exactly where i am meant to be. i've always known this. and i credit my faith in this way of being to art. to the work. to practice. and lately, the odd mix of maids and elsie and poems has renewed me in such wonderful ways. i feel brave again... brave enough to trust that, so long as my brush and pen are moving, life is good, and will be good, in spite of the hardships that come along.
the maid portraits have taught me patience. they teach me that lesson over and over again. and how to hear a whisper... to value a whisper. and these lessons, i suppose, are what has made me able to work on elsie's portraits. she's a funny one... and i don't know if this work will matter to others, if people will even care about a little girl that was killed a hundred years ago. there's one person to whom i know it matters (aside from myself) and that one other person gives me endless, endless strength. her belief in the importance of this project helps me sustain my own. this is what friendship is. and i am thankful. truly, massively thankful.
yesterday, we discussed elsie and how important it is that she be brought out from behind her current status of 'side-note' to someone else's history... that she be given a place of her own to stand... that she be honored, somehow, in even the smallest of ways, and respected.
it is hard work. learning how to be respectful of anothers' history is a delicate thing. but it is important, and so worthwhile, to at least make the attempt. i can see that a lot of the work i've done in the past year or so has led to this place, has made me capable of this attempt... it has at least increased my stamina and made me feel strong enough to heft this, to wrestle with it, to let it call on me for whatever it needs. and the fact i have a friend to speak with about her, about this work, who understands that i can't physically shoulder the weight of her portraits every day and must wait for her call, is a great comfort. it reminds me that this is a life's work and that i am allowed to take time carefully and proceed with at least a fraction of grace.
so, dear friend... thank you. :)
my faith in art, as a daily practice and way of living, has saved me over and over again. and even in those moments when my faith has become low and weak, art has persisted. art itself. and has carried me back to a place of humility and trust. i know that as long as i paint and write and breathe everything will be okay. i'll end up exactly where i am meant to be. i've always known this. and i credit my faith in this way of being to art. to the work. to practice. and lately, the odd mix of maids and elsie and poems has renewed me in such wonderful ways. i feel brave again... brave enough to trust that, so long as my brush and pen are moving, life is good, and will be good, in spite of the hardships that come along.
the maid portraits have taught me patience. they teach me that lesson over and over again. and how to hear a whisper... to value a whisper. and these lessons, i suppose, are what has made me able to work on elsie's portraits. she's a funny one... and i don't know if this work will matter to others, if people will even care about a little girl that was killed a hundred years ago. there's one person to whom i know it matters (aside from myself) and that one other person gives me endless, endless strength. her belief in the importance of this project helps me sustain my own. this is what friendship is. and i am thankful. truly, massively thankful.
yesterday, we discussed elsie and how important it is that she be brought out from behind her current status of 'side-note' to someone else's history... that she be given a place of her own to stand... that she be honored, somehow, in even the smallest of ways, and respected.
it is hard work. learning how to be respectful of anothers' history is a delicate thing. but it is important, and so worthwhile, to at least make the attempt. i can see that a lot of the work i've done in the past year or so has led to this place, has made me capable of this attempt... it has at least increased my stamina and made me feel strong enough to heft this, to wrestle with it, to let it call on me for whatever it needs. and the fact i have a friend to speak with about her, about this work, who understands that i can't physically shoulder the weight of her portraits every day and must wait for her call, is a great comfort. it reminds me that this is a life's work and that i am allowed to take time carefully and proceed with at least a fraction of grace.
so, dear friend... thank you. :)
Jul 30, 2009
THANK YOU!!!!!!!
out of nowhere, there's been a lot of movement over at my etsy shop of late... comparatively anyway. ha! and it's put a pretty nice bounce in my step! :) thank you to all the lovely people who have taken time out of their day to write me letters letting me know that my work touches their heart, and a jumbo thank you to all my collectors- your support is so amazing and i'm so grateful to have it. i'm so appreciative that you've given my work a new and loving home. i can't tell you how deeply it touches me that a person actually likes my work enough to buy it. it's such a massive compliment and i blush every single time. thank you, thank you, thank you! whether you found me through my gallery or online, i'm just so blessed that we've crossed paths. i really am. really, really, really, really! thank you! :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)