poet christine hamm is putting together an anthology of works (poems, writings, essays, and visual art) that is inspired by the work of sylvia plath! not her death, her WORK! this is a project that, though it seems extremely timely in terms of recent blogosphere activity, is actually long over due (in my opinion). it's so exciting to see how many people are currently fighting to usher plath's work, skill, and creative prowess in to a place of much deserved and well-earned respect and relevance. i couldn't be more pleased. totally amazing and i hope that everyone out there submits.
here are the submission guidelines
Showing posts with label influences. Show all posts
Showing posts with label influences. Show all posts
Mar 2, 2010
Feb 17, 2010
devotion
i've been making moths all morning. more more more. and flipping through my new kiki smith books and i came across this quote-
Prints mimic what we are as humans: we are all the same and yet every one is different. I also thinks there's a spiritual power in repetition, a devotional quality, like saying rosaries.
Kiki Smith, 1998
from Prints, Books & Things
and all these little moths are made with a wood cut i did a couple years ago. i thought of it as a butterfly at the time... moving toward 'the feminine' and looking for ways to not feel embarrassed by feminine things, feminine urges or interests. and the more i look at kiki smith's work, i see her embracing feminine attributes and gestures in such an eloquent and unapologetic way... and it is very comforting. it is wholly inspiring.
and this idea of repetition is something i've had in my mind and work for a long time... wanting to repeat certain ideas, phrases, gestures, images... to build series of work that somehow hold hands with other series. this devotional quality she sees... i see it and feel it as well. and i've stumbled in to a time in life where this quality of devotion, of hope, is very much needed and appreciated and captivating for me.
making these little moths... this symbol of fragility, of mortality... i don't know what to say other than it feels like praying. little prayer flags fluttering out from me, from my fingers, and they are gone in an instant... maybe even answered in an instant.
last night, my sweetie and i were talking about art and i told him that i have hundreds of ideas for paintings and drawings and weird little sculptures and so i don't know how to choose just a few. and he said that he's always noticed that i'm at my best, that my practice flourishes, when i'm moving in a hundred directions at once... when i'm working in a way that isn't quite so spelled-out, more of a free association, bouncing back and forth between seemingly disparate images and ideas... in truth, they all fit wonderfully together underneath the same black umbrella.
it all comes down to something i've been talking about a lot lately- the ability to trust one's self. that courage.
that way of working, of moving back and forth between the maids and elsie and the anonymous girls and little kookie alice drawings and The Good Daughter series and apron portraits and now moths... it seems so natural and fluid. i don't know how i got it stuck in my head that i have to focus on one thing at one time. i've never worked that way and when i've tried, i get stuck and lost and the work itself suffers so horribly.
and so i've decided that i must somehow find a way to stop worrying and just go go go. art has no set definition. there isn't one way to do it. there is not one road to choose. all these images circle back around and influence one another, compliment one another, make each other stronger. and then the poems well up out of nowhere, another avenue of this devotion, another way of making a prayer, making a flag, making anything.
everything, all of it, is hinged. it is all my practice.
go go go.
,+22x30,+mixed+media+on+paper,+angela+simione+2010.JPG)
hymn (2)
22" x 30"
mixed media on paper
angela simione, 2010
Prints mimic what we are as humans: we are all the same and yet every one is different. I also thinks there's a spiritual power in repetition, a devotional quality, like saying rosaries.
Kiki Smith, 1998
from Prints, Books & Things
and all these little moths are made with a wood cut i did a couple years ago. i thought of it as a butterfly at the time... moving toward 'the feminine' and looking for ways to not feel embarrassed by feminine things, feminine urges or interests. and the more i look at kiki smith's work, i see her embracing feminine attributes and gestures in such an eloquent and unapologetic way... and it is very comforting. it is wholly inspiring.
and this idea of repetition is something i've had in my mind and work for a long time... wanting to repeat certain ideas, phrases, gestures, images... to build series of work that somehow hold hands with other series. this devotional quality she sees... i see it and feel it as well. and i've stumbled in to a time in life where this quality of devotion, of hope, is very much needed and appreciated and captivating for me.
making these little moths... this symbol of fragility, of mortality... i don't know what to say other than it feels like praying. little prayer flags fluttering out from me, from my fingers, and they are gone in an instant... maybe even answered in an instant.
last night, my sweetie and i were talking about art and i told him that i have hundreds of ideas for paintings and drawings and weird little sculptures and so i don't know how to choose just a few. and he said that he's always noticed that i'm at my best, that my practice flourishes, when i'm moving in a hundred directions at once... when i'm working in a way that isn't quite so spelled-out, more of a free association, bouncing back and forth between seemingly disparate images and ideas... in truth, they all fit wonderfully together underneath the same black umbrella.
it all comes down to something i've been talking about a lot lately- the ability to trust one's self. that courage.
that way of working, of moving back and forth between the maids and elsie and the anonymous girls and little kookie alice drawings and The Good Daughter series and apron portraits and now moths... it seems so natural and fluid. i don't know how i got it stuck in my head that i have to focus on one thing at one time. i've never worked that way and when i've tried, i get stuck and lost and the work itself suffers so horribly.
and so i've decided that i must somehow find a way to stop worrying and just go go go. art has no set definition. there isn't one way to do it. there is not one road to choose. all these images circle back around and influence one another, compliment one another, make each other stronger. and then the poems well up out of nowhere, another avenue of this devotion, another way of making a prayer, making a flag, making anything.
everything, all of it, is hinged. it is all my practice.
go go go.
,+22x30,+mixed+media+on+paper,+angela+simione+2010.JPG)
hymn (2)
22" x 30"
mixed media on paper
angela simione, 2010
Jan 27, 2009
landscape...
sorry about missing a blog post yesterday, this whole daily blogging resolution is alot harder than i thought it'd be! my hat is off to all the many and varied daily bloggers of the world. it is not easy coming up with something interesting to write about every single day... interesting enough to publish anyway.
i've missed three days since the start of the year but i think i've already got more posts in 2009 than i did last year! yikes! i'm getting better about it and happy to have the challenge.
i am a bit ambivalent about writing so much about my day to day life, however: all the thoughts that flit through my head and all the non-art-related stuff. but i guess the life of an artist is about much more than just posting pictures of new work and going to shows and pointing out the work of other artists i'm attracted to. the hikes and jogs i take with my dog everyday are somehow a bigger influence on my practice sometimes than anything i've read or seen or critiqued. there's something to be said about really being involved with (and seeing) the environment you live in... the landscape and the community, who you spend your time with, the conversations you have, and all the little things that make a day.
today, after our hike, i took a few pictures of the vineyard we trek through everyday - a landscape that's starting to show up in my paintings. for the first time in my life i am painting trees and this is why:
the timber line has had a completely wonderful effect on my attitude and inside my work... it's leading me in a new direction, a direction i've never considered and never anticipated. i've never painted landscapes, never dealt in the picturesque, and i'm not really doing that in my work now so much as letting the land have an influence. i look out across the mustard blossoms in this wide open space and it's so quite out there that i can't help but feel lucky and clean and inspired to be better... to live better... to have a more intimate connection with the world and be thoughtful in every enterprise. even the NO TRESPASSING signs out here seem polite.
i've missed three days since the start of the year but i think i've already got more posts in 2009 than i did last year! yikes! i'm getting better about it and happy to have the challenge.
i am a bit ambivalent about writing so much about my day to day life, however: all the thoughts that flit through my head and all the non-art-related stuff. but i guess the life of an artist is about much more than just posting pictures of new work and going to shows and pointing out the work of other artists i'm attracted to. the hikes and jogs i take with my dog everyday are somehow a bigger influence on my practice sometimes than anything i've read or seen or critiqued. there's something to be said about really being involved with (and seeing) the environment you live in... the landscape and the community, who you spend your time with, the conversations you have, and all the little things that make a day.
today, after our hike, i took a few pictures of the vineyard we trek through everyday - a landscape that's starting to show up in my paintings. for the first time in my life i am painting trees and this is why:
the timber line has had a completely wonderful effect on my attitude and inside my work... it's leading me in a new direction, a direction i've never considered and never anticipated. i've never painted landscapes, never dealt in the picturesque, and i'm not really doing that in my work now so much as letting the land have an influence. i look out across the mustard blossoms in this wide open space and it's so quite out there that i can't help but feel lucky and clean and inspired to be better... to live better... to have a more intimate connection with the world and be thoughtful in every enterprise. even the NO TRESPASSING signs out here seem polite.
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