Painting and Grouping

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

Al and I Play

(glove bunny)

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. 

restructuring family

This morning's workplay

Stepping Stones

Grandmother and her father

In Relation

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)

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 out...it'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.

xxx

Soap family is growing

1%

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...