Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Friday, December 7, 2012

suspended images in water (notes on pg.4&5)

touch is where thoughts are formed
you can't speak for anything else
no such thing as the world- your world,
loose and shifting- play with it
still there unscrew all those things
wealth of material
how slowly ideas get formed and content coming in blames part of the present
new model, thought differently all along
everything is in the air
country or city with nature
arguing- choice of direction
how you were going to participate or not
20th century- specialization
cross discipline/ cross species
roots of science > art
rewrite fundamental discourse as one discourse- correlation between art and science
world is an illusion
deconstruction as a process- (Homi Bhabha) 

shifting material- fluid, solid and fluid again
(resin, wax) water, melt an ice cube in the form of a face
let melt into a pool and recycle into another
face picks up dist and dirt along the way
show video recording of process

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Of Cleanliness and Dirt

I love cleaning right in the morning in my pajamas before the shower. It is the time for work, for sweat, the process of scrubbing, wiping the dust and cobwebs away. I enjoy both, the mess, the dust particles that I know are of the same substance as me, as well as the spotless floor/wall, the water that flows to purify.

In relation to the soaps, they stick! (Temporarily) I have figured out a system of nail, sticky tack and soap that joins soap to wall. It is not a forever, permanent sticking, on the contrary, quite a subtle (precarious) attachment. But the illusion of hovering in space is lovely especially in relation to the same color wall. Soaps lose their soapy materialism.

At present, I question their purity. Over a flame that leaves a charcoal residue, I mark them again and again until enough black soot accumulates. Then slowly, with water, I remove one layer until a right balance remains. 

Saturday, November 10, 2012

restructuring family

This morning's workplay

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Stepping Stones

Grandmother and her father

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Grandmother's Ladies, a collection

working with 1%

working with grandmother's posessions:

flawed lovers, grandma and grandpa

dysfunctional family

me: in-between (above) and spine (below)

Friday, October 19, 2012

Back to Back

Tereza! I'm finally back online, after a very long hiatus.
Thank you so much for continuing to post, and for keeping this blog alive.
I miss you very much, and am very happy to see your hand back in your work.

I hope to be able to post images of my recent work soon; however, it has felt as though I've not completed anything at all except for changing diapers, going to the park, helping the baby feed himself, etc. The short intervals of studio time don't seem to be enough - although I admit that's a mindset I have to sort's not really "real".

I did manage to go to an artists' talk entitled "Taking Custody: the double life of the artist mother", sponsored by SVA this week. The panel was comprised of women who are artists who also happen to be mothers. It was encouraging to hear that the issues I currently face are more universal to artist mothers in general, and not just in my particular case. I felt uplifted and more reassured. It was also my birthday, so as a present to myself I gave myself that time to listen and learn.

I hope to get better at talking to you through our blog again, although I have to admit I got used to speaking to you over the phone when you were living in the US! Without that ease, I feel a little cut off. Can I vent to you here? I need some help I'm afraid. Or, I need some help. I'm afraid.


Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Tuesday, September 25, 2012


As I ask what remains, 

Half a year ago I passed some of my grandmother's items through my hands, helping my mother renovate her apartment. There wasn't much but there was a lot of substance. On another hand, it was remarkable how much there was. The scraps, just odds and ends, accumulated over a lifetime. A fantastic moment which generated many minutes of belly wrenching laughter, was the bottom item, a sign for a slippery surface and a warning "Do not run!"  Why was it tucked away in the back of a drawer for years? Just amazing...