How is the everyday related to art?
How much of the daily grime, is the beauty?
Awakening to my life:
How is my seeing, smelling, tasting, noticing dust-balls
the urine in diapers,
which I have realized is a smell I associate with home
The hollering of grandma's, the noise, in between the Calm Meditation Radio on Pandora
the never-ending dishes
"We are always just doing the dishes" (Emily Orling)
never-ending food preparation
Anitra's shit paintings
"It's not what you do, it's how you do it." (RnC)
Am I present? Not often, not during chores, they're never-ending. In this way my process is never-ending.
Everything I do is not art- just moments.