Although some may argue he's no Duchamp, my dad does his best on our yellow rotary.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Red phone yellow phone
Although some may argue he's no Duchamp, my dad does his best on our yellow rotary.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Clash
I went to see the Joe Strummer documentary "The future is unwritten" last night at the IFC center on 6th avenue. I forgot how much my pre-teen and teenage years were influenced by the Clash. Unknowingly. Like millions of other people, I loved them. It was really interesting to see what Joe Strummer did after his tenure with that band, of which I knew next to nothing. I just remember being very sad to know he died in 2005.
continuing to work
After the impression the Domestic Departures workshop initially left on me, I began to wonder how to continue on in the presence of the other workshoppers in my own studio by myself?
The enormous weight of self criticism was lifted by the end of that week, only to erect itself again when I began to work again.
However, the joy of another beginning, the "oh yeah" connection felt between hand and heart were a small but profound reaffirmation of what I'm making and why.
I don't know why I'm still insecure about much of the work I make. It seems antithetical to all I've learned and all I've experienced. Is my ego still so fragile? Am I still that junior-high school girl? I've gotten so much better at speaking from my own position, and using my own voice to communicate...it's interesting how petrified I can be about my own process.
The ease of continuation transforms that sometimes. Sometimes not.
Process
Process
Process
The enormous weight of self criticism was lifted by the end of that week, only to erect itself again when I began to work again.
However, the joy of another beginning, the "oh yeah" connection felt between hand and heart were a small but profound reaffirmation of what I'm making and why.
I don't know why I'm still insecure about much of the work I make. It seems antithetical to all I've learned and all I've experienced. Is my ego still so fragile? Am I still that junior-high school girl? I've gotten so much better at speaking from my own position, and using my own voice to communicate...it's interesting how petrified I can be about my own process.
The ease of continuation transforms that sometimes. Sometimes not.
Process
Process
Process
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Give and Take, the link
To inform the viewer/visitor/ potential participant of this entry:
My father has been playing what he has re-named "Give and Take" for the past 40 years. A combination of Turkish chess and checkers, he's the reigning master.
He's been playing in Washington Square Park, and most recently at Union Square Park with anyone who would sit down to learn (and subsequentially, ultimately lose) from him. Unlike other players in the park, my father's interest has more to do with human interaction, education, and demonstrating his superior skill and ability. He's a staple, a regular, a very popular person in the neighborhood.
I think Duchamp would have liked to have learned his game from him. I know he became extremely interested in chess in his later life, but I truly believe he would have preferred Give and Take. It suits him better...I'll ask him the next time he calls us on the red phone...
Getting back to my dad: he's been the focus of curiosity for years, by passersby and fellow players alike. Articles have been written about him and his game in Games magazine (late 1990's); the above link brings the viewer to the first video interview/educational challange online. My dad is on his way to becoming rich and famous. He's thrilled.
I would encourage the viewer to watch all the videos; each one has a different flavor. All of them are humorous, informative, and magical if you know my dad. Even if you don't, he'd love it if you watched his videos.
My father has been playing what he has re-named "Give and Take" for the past 40 years. A combination of Turkish chess and checkers, he's the reigning master.
He's been playing in Washington Square Park, and most recently at Union Square Park with anyone who would sit down to learn (and subsequentially, ultimately lose) from him. Unlike other players in the park, my father's interest has more to do with human interaction, education, and demonstrating his superior skill and ability. He's a staple, a regular, a very popular person in the neighborhood.
I think Duchamp would have liked to have learned his game from him. I know he became extremely interested in chess in his later life, but I truly believe he would have preferred Give and Take. It suits him better...I'll ask him the next time he calls us on the red phone...
Getting back to my dad: he's been the focus of curiosity for years, by passersby and fellow players alike. Articles have been written about him and his game in Games magazine (late 1990's); the above link brings the viewer to the first video interview/educational challange online. My dad is on his way to becoming rich and famous. He's thrilled.
I would encourage the viewer to watch all the videos; each one has a different flavor. All of them are humorous, informative, and magical if you know my dad. Even if you don't, he'd love it if you watched his videos.
Give and Take
Teaching Kids the Game of 'Give & Take'
My father has arrived in cyberspace. Follow this link, above.
His obsession with Give and Take, the Turkish version of chess and checkers, has paid off!
My father has arrived in cyberspace. Follow this link, above.
His obsession with Give and Take, the Turkish version of chess and checkers, has paid off!
Rainy November
Rosenclaire
Bare Feat
Oil on Canvas
2007
The cold dampness has settled into November.
In studio, at last alone, thinking about art, the commerce of art, how to remove art's "value" from one's concept of the creative process...thinking about art's participatory possibilities, the activation of more spaces, thinking about "the draw" (free art, free expression, free expression, free art)...
It's so interesting to work alone after working collaboratively for a week. The atmosphere shift is interesting to observe, smell, see. Motivation and continuation is tinged with recent nostalgia and something bittersweet.
Just visited my cousin's studio and saw her most recent sculpture (its' stunning, going to Asia for a show next week)...
I know my true quality is the floor. I've always loved the floor. I make the best work on the floor or about the floor. The hand made, the hand stained.
In a way Rose did clean that vestibule in Santa Ana because she was the one who taught me how to clean. In a way each of us made those pieces because we were in that space together at that time. I know what path I'm on, what kind of work I'm making. Ironically, money and finance and business don't play much of a part of the process.
Starting another conceptual necklace today. Looking at the red dot transfers. Thinking about knawing off the hand to save the body; giving away to receive more, letting go of the devil I know to face and accept and confront the one I don't.
Friday, November 9, 2007
more on DD
Basic concept of what the week was written to be:
Workshop: The artist duo Rosenclaire will be in residency and working with groups of artists at the Grand Central Art Center, Downtown Santa Ana Artist Village in correlation with the Domestic Departures exhibit; October 28th thru November 3rd, 2007. Public is invited to participate weekdays from 3-4:30 pm through November 3rd.
There will an additional artist’s reception and open studio on Saturday, November 3rd, 7:00pm-10pm, Artist-in-Residency Studio, Grand Central Art Center
For more information please call 714.567.7233 or go to www.grandcentralartcenter.com.
Workshop: The artist duo Rosenclaire will be in residency and working with groups of artists at the Grand Central Art Center, Downtown Santa Ana Artist Village in correlation with the Domestic Departures exhibit; October 28th thru November 3rd, 2007. Public is invited to participate weekdays from 3-4:30 pm through November 3rd.
There will an additional artist’s reception and open studio on Saturday, November 3rd, 7:00pm-10pm, Artist-in-Residency Studio, Grand Central Art Center
For more information please call 714.567.7233 or go to www.grandcentralartcenter.com.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Domestic Departures pictures
The Handlebars Saloon vestibule, before Hayley and I cleaned it. It was disgustingly dirty, used as a urinal, very unsightly. We both wanted to clean it from the first day, and finally on the last day brought new life into the old vestibule.
The laundry line was hung right in front of the front door of the main studio building, blocking the view of the fountain behind it. The sound of water could be heard (and thinking about washing away one's guilt, one's shame, holy water, purity, etc) as a component to the piece of "airing one's dirty laundry". I can envision 1,000's of these sheets hung up next to each other one day (soon).
Studio shots of "read aloud" and the red dot work, thinking about the circle of life, the red dot as commercial gain (sale of artwork), the title coming from the book "the status seekers" about social climbing and "fitting in"...Again, I can see these as seeds of future work (they already are I think)
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Erasing
Here is a video of Robert Rauchenberg about erasing a DeKooning drawing. It sometimes takes a moment to load, but worth it to stay around for:
Reminds me of Rosenclaire's work at Domestic Departures show, with William Kentridge
Reminds me of Rosenclaire's work at Domestic Departures show, with William Kentridge
life and/in art
The implications of the Domestic Departures workshop will take me a little longer than one day to process, but as I just returned to New York from Santa Ana I really wanted to begin to post about my experience, what I learned from others, how my approach to art making has shifted, etc.
It was incredibly interesting to work with 19 other artists in Santa Ana (a location antithetical to New York City, with its strip malls and driving culture). At first I was claustrophic; although there was vast amounts of physical space, somehow I was not open to being around US mass culture in that way (clearly, New York City is also a city of US mass culture, but the mall culture somewhat threw me for a loop).
The focus of the workshop was the theme Domestic Departures. That was the thing in the middle for us to work with/around/in, etc. This was not about us as individual artists with our own betties making our own art, but rather being individuals making art as facilitated by Rosenclaire's, also to facilitate the public to start thinking about Domestic Departures.
At first it was very difficult to wrap my head around this. Collective art but not collective in nature, collaborative but not for the sake of collaborating, individual but making work about Domestic Departures. But as the days progressed, the work began to generate itself, all of us, the public.
After getting over myself, things really began to move, both personally and for the group. The work was made because of and inspired by everything and every one. It's hard to express at the moment, but not one piece could have been made independently; each piece was because we were all there together around the theme.
Hayley and I cleaned a horribly dirty vestibule until it gleened with lavender. With yellow and pink gloves, mops and scrub brushes, we cleansed the space. Before and during the open studios for the studio our studio was housed in. The handlebars sign can be transformed into "handlebras" for future projects...
Friday, October 26, 2007
In California
Arrived to Northern California yesterday, after stopping over in LAX for about an hour. The sky down there looks white from all the smoke, which doesn't really feel different than the usual smog I have seen the last time I was in LA. But the taste in one's mouth is different. It's metallic.
Because my hostess suffers from migraines, after she picked me up from the airport, I had to drive us back to the coast over Highway 17. I haven't drived in over one year, and to brave Highway 17 in a new car with a friend with a migraine was no easy task. Luckily I didn't hit any guardrails and we made it back home safe and sound.
I can't get over how fresh everything feels here. It seems so much easier to live. Things seem to make sense. The coffee tastes better. The view of the ocean is lovely.
Tomorrow we go to Monterey and Laguna Seca. Turu is warming up today. I can't wait to see him and the racing Alfa Romeo. The Domestic Departures workshop starts Monday in Santa Ana. Not sure how I feel going into the ring of fire. We'll see.
Because my hostess suffers from migraines, after she picked me up from the airport, I had to drive us back to the coast over Highway 17. I haven't drived in over one year, and to brave Highway 17 in a new car with a friend with a migraine was no easy task. Luckily I didn't hit any guardrails and we made it back home safe and sound.
I can't get over how fresh everything feels here. It seems so much easier to live. Things seem to make sense. The coffee tastes better. The view of the ocean is lovely.
Tomorrow we go to Monterey and Laguna Seca. Turu is warming up today. I can't wait to see him and the racing Alfa Romeo. The Domestic Departures workshop starts Monday in Santa Ana. Not sure how I feel going into the ring of fire. We'll see.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
compare
By Dana Ford
SAN DIEGO, Oct 23 (Reuters) - As emergency shelters go, the Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego might get a five-star rating, with yoga and acupuncture for stressed-out adults, clowns and candy for bored kids and even Kosher meals.
The stadium, best known as home to the National Football League's San Diego Chargers, was converted this week into an emergency evacuation center accommodating 10,000 people forced from their homes by wildfires scorching the county.
City and state officials and legions of volunteers running the center did their best to provide not only for evacuees' basic needs but also lifestyle perks designed to make the Golden State's displaced denizens feel more at home.
Food and water were in ample supply, with tables lining the stadium's main concourse laden with cold cuts, breads, condiments, cookies, fruit and coffee. Dinner included roast beef, fresh vegetables, salad and rice.
Jewish evacuees were able to abide by their dietary restrictions by following a sign advertising Kosher food.
"You hear all the horror stories from Hurricane Katrina, but it's nothing like that here," said Linda Leonik, 22, who was evacuated with her husband and their 6-month-old twins from the upscale community of Rancho Bernardo.
"We have all the resources we need. I'm so surprised how well people pulled together for this."
The almost festive mood was a far cry from the overcrowded, squalid conditions, despair and fear of violence inside the New Orleans Superdome following Hurricane Katrina in 2005, where evacuees spent several days without adequate food, water or sanitation.
While some of New Orleans' poorest residents sought shelter at the Superdome, many of the evacuees taking up residence at Qualcomm came from affluent suburbs of San Diego.
Clowns made balloon animals for youngsters, people dressed as "Star Wars" troopers gave out candy, a ventriloquist performed with puppets and volunteers painted children's faces. Other children spent time in a play area stocked with toys crayons and coloring books.
Acupuncturists set up a makeshift clinic, and signs guided stressed evacuees to yoga and meditation sessions offered elsewhere in the stadium. Crisis counseling and massage therapy also were made available.
Organizers did their best to keep evacuees plugged in electronically, with TV monitors put up throughout the facility and a cell-phone charging station on the concourse.
The stadium was so well stocked by nightfall on Tuesday that San Diego Mayor Jerry Sanders issued a statement saying individual donations were no longer necessary.
"There's been such an overwhelming response from the community. There are people here in immediate need and there are people here to give. I'm proud of my city," said Tony Greco, a San Diego native and sergeant in the U.S military.
As opposed to the superdome in New Orleans:
SAN DIEGO, Oct 23 (Reuters) - As emergency shelters go, the Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego might get a five-star rating, with yoga and acupuncture for stressed-out adults, clowns and candy for bored kids and even Kosher meals.
The stadium, best known as home to the National Football League's San Diego Chargers, was converted this week into an emergency evacuation center accommodating 10,000 people forced from their homes by wildfires scorching the county.
City and state officials and legions of volunteers running the center did their best to provide not only for evacuees' basic needs but also lifestyle perks designed to make the Golden State's displaced denizens feel more at home.
Food and water were in ample supply, with tables lining the stadium's main concourse laden with cold cuts, breads, condiments, cookies, fruit and coffee. Dinner included roast beef, fresh vegetables, salad and rice.
Jewish evacuees were able to abide by their dietary restrictions by following a sign advertising Kosher food.
"You hear all the horror stories from Hurricane Katrina, but it's nothing like that here," said Linda Leonik, 22, who was evacuated with her husband and their 6-month-old twins from the upscale community of Rancho Bernardo.
"We have all the resources we need. I'm so surprised how well people pulled together for this."
The almost festive mood was a far cry from the overcrowded, squalid conditions, despair and fear of violence inside the New Orleans Superdome following Hurricane Katrina in 2005, where evacuees spent several days without adequate food, water or sanitation.
While some of New Orleans' poorest residents sought shelter at the Superdome, many of the evacuees taking up residence at Qualcomm came from affluent suburbs of San Diego.
Clowns made balloon animals for youngsters, people dressed as "Star Wars" troopers gave out candy, a ventriloquist performed with puppets and volunteers painted children's faces. Other children spent time in a play area stocked with toys crayons and coloring books.
Acupuncturists set up a makeshift clinic, and signs guided stressed evacuees to yoga and meditation sessions offered elsewhere in the stadium. Crisis counseling and massage therapy also were made available.
Organizers did their best to keep evacuees plugged in electronically, with TV monitors put up throughout the facility and a cell-phone charging station on the concourse.
The stadium was so well stocked by nightfall on Tuesday that San Diego Mayor Jerry Sanders issued a statement saying individual donations were no longer necessary.
"There's been such an overwhelming response from the community. There are people here in immediate need and there are people here to give. I'm proud of my city," said Tony Greco, a San Diego native and sergeant in the U.S military.
As opposed to the superdome in New Orleans:
Ring of Fire
Hard to believe from rainy and cooler New York that all this is happening on the West coast. I'll see it and feel it and most likely taste it with my own body tomorrow as I fly to LA before San Jose. Domestic Departures workshop inside the ring of fire will be interesting to participate in. Scoured and charred, how will we be able to respond in our own work?
However bad the devastation, though, I can't help but think of the hypocrisy surrounding the rescue and evacuation effort in relation to that after Hurricane Katrina. Images of thousands at a sports stadium, people waiting on line or sleeping on concrete, similar in both cases. But in recent news programs and in the papers, not many people this week are shown starving, dying of thirst, without proper medical equipment or attention, without sanitation.
In Southern California, even the farm animals have been saved, are still well fed and hydrated. Newborns and the elderly weren't treated this well at the Superdome, were they? Maybe I missed something.
It makes me ask myself again (proverbially) why certain types of people's lives are valued more than others' in this country. The lower-class to poor, mostly African American lives destroyed by Hurricane Katrina are still waiting for aid. New Orleans seems to have become a pet project for the rich and seemingly socially conscious (with green building initiatives and tours, documentaries, etc), but not the government. Conversely, celebrities whose (not even primary) homes are in harm's way are being touted around like victims. I'm sure they all left for Hawaii until the smoke clears!
I see the government, the Governator, FEMA, mobilizing at almost stealth speed. I'm stating the obvious here with most of our reserve troops fighting in Iraq, local hands on deck seem to have loads of help, enthusiasm and drive, and support.
I feel embarrassed to be represented by such a transparent, manipulative, and cruel administration. It breaks my heart and makes me incredibly angry that millions of people in New Orleans are still waiting for...pretty much everything, and the most recent homeless of Southern California are basically getting in front of the line.
Very good place to be before a workshop!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Domestic Departures
Exhibit & Workshop
I am pleased to announce that I have been invited to participate in a workshop in conjunction with the exhibit "Domestic Departures" at California State Fullerton's Main Art Gallery.
I will be there throughout the week with 16 other artists. We will open the studios at the Grand Central Art Center to the public at the end of each day from 3-4:30, beginning Tuesday October 30 through Friday November 12.
Main Art Gallery - 800 N. State College Blvd. Fullerton, CA
Grand Central Art Center (GCAC) - 125 N. Broadway, Santa Ana, CA
Opening Reception at Main Art Gallery: Saturday, October 27, 5-8 PM
Duration of Exhibit: October 27 - December 7, 2007
Additional Artist Reception at GCAC: November 3, 7:30 - 10 PM
Information: 714.278.3262 or 714.278.7750
Thursday, October 18, 2007
reconciliation
The spiral has come around again (maybe it's because Mercury is again in retrograde), and I'm friends again with a former someone I thought was out of my life forever. Maybe it's because she just had a baby, maybe it's because I'm too tired (and getting older already!) to push things and people out of my life, or maybe because we're both a lot softer than we used to be.
Whatever the reason, I'm glad to have her back in my life.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
October 16
It's my birthday today. I'm 33 years old. It's Tuesday, pretty warm...
It feels like any other day. I'm having a party tonight to celebrate.
I just ordered the red velvet cupcakes.
I'd like to buy a new dress or a new pair of shoes, but I probably won't.
Monday, October 15, 2007
meanings
do·mes·tic
–adjective
1. of or pertaining to the home, the household, household affairs, or the family: domestic pleasures.
2. devoted to home life or household affairs.
3. tame; domesticated.
4. of or pertaining to one's own or a particular country as apart from other countries: domestic trade.
5. indigenous to or produced or made within one's own country; not foreign; native: domestic goods.
–noun
6. a hired household servant.
7. something produced or manufactured in one's own country.
8. domestics, household items made of cloth, as sheets, towels, and tablecloths.
[Origin: 1515–25; < L domesticus, deriv. of domus house (see dome); r. domestique < MF]
de·par·ture [di-pahr-cher]
–noun
1. an act or instance of departing: the time of departure; a hasty departure.
2. divergence or deviation, as from a standard, rule, etc.: a departure from accepted teaching methods.
3. Navigation.
a. the distance due east or west traveled by a vessel or aircraft.
b. point of departure.
4. Surveying. the length of the projection, on the east-west reference line, of a survey line.
5. Archaic. death.
[Origin: 1375–1425; late ME < OF departëure; cf. AF departir (n. use of inf.). See depart, -ure]
—Synonyms 1. leaving, going, exit, leave-taking.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.
American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source - Share This
de·par·ture (dÄ-pär'chÉ™r) Pronunciation Key
n.
The act of leaving.
A starting out, as on a trip or a new course of action.
A divergence or deviation, as from an established rule, plan, or procedure: ordered curry as a departure from his usual bland diet.
Nautical The distance sailed due east or west by a ship on its course.
–adjective
1. of or pertaining to the home, the household, household affairs, or the family: domestic pleasures.
2. devoted to home life or household affairs.
3. tame; domesticated.
4. of or pertaining to one's own or a particular country as apart from other countries: domestic trade.
5. indigenous to or produced or made within one's own country; not foreign; native: domestic goods.
–noun
6. a hired household servant.
7. something produced or manufactured in one's own country.
8. domestics, household items made of cloth, as sheets, towels, and tablecloths.
[Origin: 1515–25; < L domesticus, deriv. of domus house (see dome); r. domestique < MF]
de·par·ture [di-pahr-cher]
–noun
1. an act or instance of departing: the time of departure; a hasty departure.
2. divergence or deviation, as from a standard, rule, etc.: a departure from accepted teaching methods.
3. Navigation.
a. the distance due east or west traveled by a vessel or aircraft.
b. point of departure.
4. Surveying. the length of the projection, on the east-west reference line, of a survey line.
5. Archaic. death.
[Origin: 1375–1425; late ME < OF departëure; cf. AF departir (n. use of inf.). See depart, -ure]
—Synonyms 1. leaving, going, exit, leave-taking.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.
American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source - Share This
de·par·ture (dÄ-pär'chÉ™r) Pronunciation Key
n.
The act of leaving.
A starting out, as on a trip or a new course of action.
A divergence or deviation, as from an established rule, plan, or procedure: ordered curry as a departure from his usual bland diet.
Nautical The distance sailed due east or west by a ship on its course.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
domesticity
After the sale of my apartment I moved back in with my parents until the building is complete. I moved back into the room I grew up in, but now I live there with my husband. It's very surreal, but in a way very healing. It is as though we have come full circle but sprialled up looking down at our former selves and our former relationships with each other.
I'm documenting the whole process with photographs and seemingly endless journal entries. As my studio work is all around me, the daily activities of a middle class family in the middle of New York City is a political piece in and of itself. Inside the apartment is familiar, it's the only home I've ever known. But one step "outside" and the surrounding neighborhood is very foreign. We don't look like the neighborhood anymore, now littered with the upwardly mobile and student set.
But to get even a little distance from just being about Me, I'm trying to see this step of the process as part of a larger whole. The fact that, as a product of a middle class upbringing, I'm building a new building on my father's property, and had to move back in for financial reasons, is very very interesting. Taking the time to reflect on family dynamics, geographic constrainsts, and concepts of domesticity (both micro and macro levels) is important to me.
So many photographs look like they'd be great paintings. So many moments galvinized in my memory are at the same time right in front of my eyes. My mother, my father, my husband, my self.
progress shots
Building a home
constructing new structures
theory and reality often become opposing
sometimes i still separate work from My Work (working on it)
these were taken last week
Monday, September 17, 2007
wrapped silverware
Tonight after dinner with mom I wrapped a sterling silver serving spoon and four forks with gorgeous red yarn.
After showing her the work for the Strangers show, and telling her of the nexus of that piece, I got her to pull down three large plastic storage bags filled with yarn from the top of her closet. I chose the red fluffy kind, for no apparent reason. I mean, of course the fur teacup comes to mind, as well as Cristo and Jean Claude, but really...
My memories of holding yarn for my mom when I was younger come back in a faded way. There is a picture of mine on the wall of sketches I did 10 years ago about the subject. Yarn and knitting has always been around me because my mother has always knitted. Knitting needles, skeins of yarn everywhere, pattern books...
And of course silverware (because this spoon was so beautiful!) and silverware and silverware and bowls and cups and glasses and plates and linens and pillowcases and vases and typewriters and children's books and old toys and everything else stored away in my old room and in the crevices of the closets.
So since my studio is now shared space, and my home is a very shared space, my works today have been wrapped silverware. Four forks and a serving spoon.
After showing her the work for the Strangers show, and telling her of the nexus of that piece, I got her to pull down three large plastic storage bags filled with yarn from the top of her closet. I chose the red fluffy kind, for no apparent reason. I mean, of course the fur teacup comes to mind, as well as Cristo and Jean Claude, but really...
My memories of holding yarn for my mom when I was younger come back in a faded way. There is a picture of mine on the wall of sketches I did 10 years ago about the subject. Yarn and knitting has always been around me because my mother has always knitted. Knitting needles, skeins of yarn everywhere, pattern books...
And of course silverware (because this spoon was so beautiful!) and silverware and silverware and bowls and cups and glasses and plates and linens and pillowcases and vases and typewriters and children's books and old toys and everything else stored away in my old room and in the crevices of the closets.
So since my studio is now shared space, and my home is a very shared space, my works today have been wrapped silverware. Four forks and a serving spoon.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
taken from sensorium
Some thoughts after artSafari, some questions for the group:
What can be considered an empathetic mark? How can one combine the subtley and nuance of pain, confrontation, beauty and anger in one's work?
My heart felt overwhelmed by the safari for many reasons, and now being back in the New York, and feeling more often than not underwhelmed, I wonder about continuity, threads or histories of mark making, and am anxious to experience more of what I resonated with especially at the Documenta.
In addition to the work, the group dynamics (always interesting to notice) were incredible. I felt more reciprocity of ideas, sharing of experiences, and a general sense of openness that was refreshing. It is very interesting to continue a practice that has no name, isn't funded by any institution, and only happens when we all agree to participate. No location, no...thing. For something as indescrible as whatever it is I think the workshops are, on this trip in particular it felt like an invisible life preserver in the sea of art and art and art and more art.
The directions of the Biennale and the Documenta were so interesting to notice...one being very North American-based (in my opinion), and the other being decidedly non-North-American focused. I experienced a real sense of place coming out of the Neue Gallery (sp?) after spending the entire second day there, and sitting on the front steps, realizing
I was in Germany...my arrogance and annoyance of not having the show spelled out for me in English caught up with me on those steps, and I felt humbled by actually having to work for my understanding of the artwork presented. Imagine that!
I was also taken by how much the audience did work to understand the show, how there was a real participatory aspect not visible at the Biennale. Those around me during long videos stayed throughout the whole video, no one was really loud or obnoxious or rude about the work, I didnt' see any desecration of any work (or of any gallery or museum for that matter). It created a more neutral ground on which to see and receive the work.
Which is why, now, for me, with the onslaught of all New York City has to offer this Fall season, I am both overwhelmed and underwhelmed by what, in my opinion, is highlighted here and what is not valued so much. All the grit and soul of the city I grew up in is being replaced by floor-to-ceiling glass windows on 44-story luxury residential towers. The space for independent art making is becoming smaller and smaller..
It makes me wonder about mark making, the memory, the remembered. Both in a micro and macro lens (the electron microscope and the universe)...If everything around me is getting covered up, where can a memory of a space exist? The video by Kanwar comes to mind of a space holding the story holding the history.
What can those marks look like? Healed scars, literally on the skin? Erosion, gleening? I'm curious to open this up in this space because, like I said, I felt so much of an opening on the artSafari it inspired me to open this up here.
Angela Rose
What can be considered an empathetic mark? How can one combine the subtley and nuance of pain, confrontation, beauty and anger in one's work?
My heart felt overwhelmed by the safari for many reasons, and now being back in the New York, and feeling more often than not underwhelmed, I wonder about continuity, threads or histories of mark making, and am anxious to experience more of what I resonated with especially at the Documenta.
In addition to the work, the group dynamics (always interesting to notice) were incredible. I felt more reciprocity of ideas, sharing of experiences, and a general sense of openness that was refreshing. It is very interesting to continue a practice that has no name, isn't funded by any institution, and only happens when we all agree to participate. No location, no...thing. For something as indescrible as whatever it is I think the workshops are, on this trip in particular it felt like an invisible life preserver in the sea of art and art and art and more art.
The directions of the Biennale and the Documenta were so interesting to notice...one being very North American-based (in my opinion), and the other being decidedly non-North-American focused. I experienced a real sense of place coming out of the Neue Gallery (sp?) after spending the entire second day there, and sitting on the front steps, realizing
I was in Germany...my arrogance and annoyance of not having the show spelled out for me in English caught up with me on those steps, and I felt humbled by actually having to work for my understanding of the artwork presented. Imagine that!
I was also taken by how much the audience did work to understand the show, how there was a real participatory aspect not visible at the Biennale. Those around me during long videos stayed throughout the whole video, no one was really loud or obnoxious or rude about the work, I didnt' see any desecration of any work (or of any gallery or museum for that matter). It created a more neutral ground on which to see and receive the work.
Which is why, now, for me, with the onslaught of all New York City has to offer this Fall season, I am both overwhelmed and underwhelmed by what, in my opinion, is highlighted here and what is not valued so much. All the grit and soul of the city I grew up in is being replaced by floor-to-ceiling glass windows on 44-story luxury residential towers. The space for independent art making is becoming smaller and smaller..
It makes me wonder about mark making, the memory, the remembered. Both in a micro and macro lens (the electron microscope and the universe)...If everything around me is getting covered up, where can a memory of a space exist? The video by Kanwar comes to mind of a space holding the story holding the history.
What can those marks look like? Healed scars, literally on the skin? Erosion, gleening? I'm curious to open this up in this space because, like I said, I felt so much of an opening on the artSafari it inspired me to open this up here.
Angela Rose
calm after storm
I think it's been my practice to build up the storm around me, like a tornado of movement, emotion, passion, and indecision, and then like popped and deflating balloon I often settle in, ground out, breathe.
My practice is just fine. I think I think too much about the HOW which stops the actual making of the work. The thinking of the work stops with the cut off of breath. Hyper anxiety flushes out rational thought and calm, tai-chi- like pushing through the world.
I printed out my piece for the Through The Eyes of Strangers show yesterday with a photographer friend. It's been a great practice to collaborate with professionals to document both recent and past work.
The flurry of thinking I'm not worth all that is coming to me is slightly passed. Past.
Thinking about painting a lot lately actually...haven't completed a painting in over 6 months. Very much intruiged as always by Keifer's work as well as Tapies.
What is an empathetic mark?
I am still drawn to the enigma of a beautiful and angry mark, the combination of masculine and feminine together on one large surface. But, admittedly, fear has kept me from making the paintings I dream of making. That, and lack of space now that my studio is currently an office as well.
How can I work with
the memory
the remembered
the left behind
the cultivated
Very interested in the projected vs. the actual. I think the pieces for the TTEOS show reflect my curiosity of word/image associations, taking things commonly accepted by the society I know and making them strange. I am on the outskirts of the kitchen just waiting to make my mark. It's happening I just have to keep on making the work
The work in forms the work informs the work informs the work
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
greatness
everything is going GREAT and all i feel like doing is throwing up and passing out.
my mind is racing a mile a minute, my heart is pounding. there is so much that needs to be done, but so much that has already gone very very right for me i'm not used to it.
not used to having things WORK OUT for me. after working so so hard, things are working out...all at the same time, all wonderfully.
so of course my shoulders are at my ears
i'm so worried about money
i'm concerned about the nature of my work, where my trajectory can lead me...my fear of fear and lack of follow through plague me now that i'm living at home and am surrounded by fear and lethargy on a more daily basis.
i feel claustrophobic...husband moved into studio, we moved into my parents' apartment, i live, work, breathe, eat, etc. with at least one member of my family. my work is suffering because i don't have any alone time.
art on the move.
figuring out solutions
remembering to be inspired and motivated and positive and creative
tense like a rock between my shoulders
i feel like a leach i feel like i'm not carrying my own weight for some reason.
but everything is going RIGHT.
what is really the root of this insecurity?
my mind is racing a mile a minute, my heart is pounding. there is so much that needs to be done, but so much that has already gone very very right for me i'm not used to it.
not used to having things WORK OUT for me. after working so so hard, things are working out...all at the same time, all wonderfully.
so of course my shoulders are at my ears
i'm so worried about money
i'm concerned about the nature of my work, where my trajectory can lead me...my fear of fear and lack of follow through plague me now that i'm living at home and am surrounded by fear and lethargy on a more daily basis.
i feel claustrophobic...husband moved into studio, we moved into my parents' apartment, i live, work, breathe, eat, etc. with at least one member of my family. my work is suffering because i don't have any alone time.
art on the move.
figuring out solutions
remembering to be inspired and motivated and positive and creative
tense like a rock between my shoulders
i feel like a leach i feel like i'm not carrying my own weight for some reason.
but everything is going RIGHT.
what is really the root of this insecurity?
Monday, September 3, 2007
no separation
August
Thought about moving, "home", travel:
-Went to Documenta, Biennale, and Munster on the artSafari. Amazingly refreshing to see all that art!
However, the timing couldn't have been worse: we sold our apartment in Queens and had to move out 10 days after I returned from my trip.
-So after practically quitting my spa job (realizing of course I have to commit 100% to my studio practice), travelling to Italy and Germany, I came back to New York with no money and a house and studio to move.
Turu and I worked non-stop for 8 days straight, getting everything out. We hired a storage space blocks from my studio to pile everything in; he moved his office into my studio, along with all our plants, which feels bigger and smaller at the same time, and we moved back into my parents' apartment which for better or worse was our only option.
SO...now we work, live, sleep, eat, and breathe and bathe and everything else together. Our studios are together and we live with my parents. I'm documenting everything because the experience is too surreal not to.
That was all the week I got home.
The second week, last week, I started work at the US Open working on the female tennis players at Arthur Ashe stadium. It was an incredible opportunity to work on amazingly talented and professional athletes. Made me re-think entirely my own body of work about the ten foot pole.
I don't live in my house anymore. I feel like a nomad.
Everything is actually going GREAT, but last week on Thursday I had a major breakdown...it's interesting when everything starts going right after working so hard to get it...it somehow feels like I don't deserve it or I feel guilty for actually getting what I want. That passed but it took its toll.
We camped this weekend on our friends' mountain north of the catskills. I feel re-inspired to continue again. I'm getting my work shot and sent out to the "Through the Eyes of Strangers" show tomorrow. Onward and upward but wow what close quarters I now share with my family.
Thought about moving, "home", travel:
-Went to Documenta, Biennale, and Munster on the artSafari. Amazingly refreshing to see all that art!
However, the timing couldn't have been worse: we sold our apartment in Queens and had to move out 10 days after I returned from my trip.
-So after practically quitting my spa job (realizing of course I have to commit 100% to my studio practice), travelling to Italy and Germany, I came back to New York with no money and a house and studio to move.
Turu and I worked non-stop for 8 days straight, getting everything out. We hired a storage space blocks from my studio to pile everything in; he moved his office into my studio, along with all our plants, which feels bigger and smaller at the same time, and we moved back into my parents' apartment which for better or worse was our only option.
SO...now we work, live, sleep, eat, and breathe and bathe and everything else together. Our studios are together and we live with my parents. I'm documenting everything because the experience is too surreal not to.
That was all the week I got home.
The second week, last week, I started work at the US Open working on the female tennis players at Arthur Ashe stadium. It was an incredible opportunity to work on amazingly talented and professional athletes. Made me re-think entirely my own body of work about the ten foot pole.
I don't live in my house anymore. I feel like a nomad.
Everything is actually going GREAT, but last week on Thursday I had a major breakdown...it's interesting when everything starts going right after working so hard to get it...it somehow feels like I don't deserve it or I feel guilty for actually getting what I want. That passed but it took its toll.
We camped this weekend on our friends' mountain north of the catskills. I feel re-inspired to continue again. I'm getting my work shot and sent out to the "Through the Eyes of Strangers" show tomorrow. Onward and upward but wow what close quarters I now share with my family.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Gift
A half an hour ago, the energy was chaos- Alenka screaming, like someone being tortured (a combination of day's activity and a late nap).
Then I viewed the peaceful images my friend sent in the mail. Wow! What a contrast to my experience just a few moments back.
These intimate portraits were documented by a fabulous friend.
I often forget to view my life with the same amount of dignity as I impose on other things- the daily activities seem mundane. Ms. F cast some beautiful light on the day to day life- what a gift!
Saturday, July 28, 2007
death and life
It's so interesting what comes into one's world when one opens up to it.
The woman I knew as my Grandmother died this week, and a very good friend's wife had their first baby on the same day.
Even though Eda had been out of her mind and in a nursing home for a couple of years, her passing marks the end of an era in my maternal family: she was the last one left in her generation. Her twin sister died a few years ago, and the rest of her siblings many years before that. My Grandfather died when I was 17, his brothers when I was younger...unfortunately too many to count (and that's only my blood family, not including my family of friends who are no longer with me in this life)...
But then I know 6 women who are giving birth in the next month or have just given birth within the past month. Somehow their choices to start a family both draws me in and draws me away. I am less torn between having a baby and not having a baby, and more concerned with the "when"...
I realize the tantrum I threw and posted about last week was not a superficial or isolated incident at all, but it came from a deeply rooted place with a million strings attached. After it was over I slept for 13 hours, waking up in the same position I went to sleep in. Something dislodged from my entire being; the black anchor has lifted from around my heart. I don't think I'm an angry person anymore.
Not to say I'll never get angry again, but I think I confronted the first trauma in my life: my inability to admit I didn't know something and to say "I don't understand" with the willingness to learn. I don't have a very solid history of asking questions when I didn't know something...somehow just getting by on what I thought I knew with my attitude and false confidence was enough. That began to change when I stopped being so insecure about who I was or how I wanted to live my life, but still the old habits died hard, and I still clung on to (albeit old and useless) patterns of thinking.
But last week, seemingly out of nowhere, something that usually happens at workshops, happened on my own volition in my own studio. With my husband. As easy as that. Although it was what I can only describe as a complete physical and mental shift in consciousness, it was almost over as soon as it began, with me never able to be the same person again for the rest of my life.
I did not know how to describe how I felt because I had no memory or recall of ever feeling that way before. I feel like an open book, a boundary-less drifter in my own life. My brow is less furrowed. I sleep better at night.
That happend the day before my Grandmother/Great Aunt died, the day before Zelda was born. Life and death and personal transformation has been on my mind all week. Thank you Tereza for posting that link to another blog it was very aptly timed.
The woman I knew as my Grandmother died this week, and a very good friend's wife had their first baby on the same day.
Even though Eda had been out of her mind and in a nursing home for a couple of years, her passing marks the end of an era in my maternal family: she was the last one left in her generation. Her twin sister died a few years ago, and the rest of her siblings many years before that. My Grandfather died when I was 17, his brothers when I was younger...unfortunately too many to count (and that's only my blood family, not including my family of friends who are no longer with me in this life)...
But then I know 6 women who are giving birth in the next month or have just given birth within the past month. Somehow their choices to start a family both draws me in and draws me away. I am less torn between having a baby and not having a baby, and more concerned with the "when"...
I realize the tantrum I threw and posted about last week was not a superficial or isolated incident at all, but it came from a deeply rooted place with a million strings attached. After it was over I slept for 13 hours, waking up in the same position I went to sleep in. Something dislodged from my entire being; the black anchor has lifted from around my heart. I don't think I'm an angry person anymore.
Not to say I'll never get angry again, but I think I confronted the first trauma in my life: my inability to admit I didn't know something and to say "I don't understand" with the willingness to learn. I don't have a very solid history of asking questions when I didn't know something...somehow just getting by on what I thought I knew with my attitude and false confidence was enough. That began to change when I stopped being so insecure about who I was or how I wanted to live my life, but still the old habits died hard, and I still clung on to (albeit old and useless) patterns of thinking.
But last week, seemingly out of nowhere, something that usually happens at workshops, happened on my own volition in my own studio. With my husband. As easy as that. Although it was what I can only describe as a complete physical and mental shift in consciousness, it was almost over as soon as it began, with me never able to be the same person again for the rest of my life.
I did not know how to describe how I felt because I had no memory or recall of ever feeling that way before. I feel like an open book, a boundary-less drifter in my own life. My brow is less furrowed. I sleep better at night.
That happend the day before my Grandmother/Great Aunt died, the day before Zelda was born. Life and death and personal transformation has been on my mind all week. Thank you Tereza for posting that link to another blog it was very aptly timed.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
A brilliant woman's dying process
http://www.sillipages.com/
I feel like I need to drastically alter my life, processing her beautiful death.
I feel like I need to drastically alter my life, processing her beautiful death.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
getting on with it
Almost immediately after my temper tantrum I realized the misdirected choices I made that got me blue in the face. I confronted the issue and sorted things out. I think everyone is in each others' lives for a reason, especially the difficult ones: always there to teach one something. Until I learn my lesson about patience, grace, tolerance, and tact I still have challanges that push all my buttons.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
tantrums
It's so interesting how much change a person can go through in half a day. I posted earlier this afternoon so happy and inspired, only to turn cold, rigid, and uncompassionate only hours later towards a very recent former friend.
I don't have a poker face. I can't pretend to be interested in people or in things I detest. I embarrassed my husband and made myself look like a spoiled brat. I'm 32 years old still throwing tantrums about things that don't even really concern me.
Why are certain patterns so hard to shift out of?
What sense of self righteousness do I have to be obnoxious towards others?
I was very bratty. How can one deal with the aftermath of bad behavior?
I don't have a poker face. I can't pretend to be interested in people or in things I detest. I embarrassed my husband and made myself look like a spoiled brat. I'm 32 years old still throwing tantrums about things that don't even really concern me.
Why are certain patterns so hard to shift out of?
What sense of self righteousness do I have to be obnoxious towards others?
I was very bratty. How can one deal with the aftermath of bad behavior?
Letter to M
Hi M!
I hope you are having a wonderful day. I wanted to let you know I made a tentative play date with Ivy and Ursula for this Saturday, and that I am finally doing all the artistic things on my list of things yet to do.
I miss you and love being in your studio. NYC sure feels empty without you, J, and J around.
I am trying my best to be as productive as possible...I feel so much better when I listen to the creative sides of myself and get into studio more often than not.
Getting used to being an artist again full time takes a little getting used to after convincing myself for so long that I couldn't do it.
The building is coming along nicely, and I can safely say I can breathe a little easier knowing it's getting taken care of by people I finally trust. Working with Turu is still super great, but I have to say I'm really looking forward to being around all that art in Venice, Kassel, and Germany (and to be around all the girls too; too many boys on construction sites!)
Anyway, I hope you have a happy birthday too and I'll see you soon. I think your birthday was yesterday. OK bye! Have a great time teaching. Can't wait to see everyone,
Angela
I hope you are having a wonderful day. I wanted to let you know I made a tentative play date with Ivy and Ursula for this Saturday, and that I am finally doing all the artistic things on my list of things yet to do.
I miss you and love being in your studio. NYC sure feels empty without you, J, and J around.
I am trying my best to be as productive as possible...I feel so much better when I listen to the creative sides of myself and get into studio more often than not.
Getting used to being an artist again full time takes a little getting used to after convincing myself for so long that I couldn't do it.
The building is coming along nicely, and I can safely say I can breathe a little easier knowing it's getting taken care of by people I finally trust. Working with Turu is still super great, but I have to say I'm really looking forward to being around all that art in Venice, Kassel, and Germany (and to be around all the girls too; too many boys on construction sites!)
Anyway, I hope you have a happy birthday too and I'll see you soon. I think your birthday was yesterday. OK bye! Have a great time teaching. Can't wait to see everyone,
Angela
Friday, July 6, 2007
"Thank You for Seeing Me"- form the album, Universay Mother by Sinead Oconnor
been dancing a great amount. It is in a very different context than ten year ago when I was competing. This time I am moving my body freely with other women. It is about just that- it is still an expression of feeling at times sexual, mostly not. Where I was moving my body for others; judges, men, women, I am now moving for myself.
I have also started teaching couples! and of course the every day- tension with the history between man/woman; sexual, predatory, vulnerable, submissive, strong, weak are all there. I am excited to be working in this dynamic, for as an objective (at times!) outsider, I see and can tweak this dance. I am excited because I think I can shake up some of their respecive roles and hopefully when the dust settles (and they are done kicking up their heels) things may settle in a different way.
For myself the dance of nia has been grounding my independence as a woman, person, soul. Will post images soon and am very exited to be Through the Eyes of Strangers with you! (We are all going to help install the show and be there hopefully for the opening).
I have also started teaching couples! and of course the every day- tension with the history between man/woman; sexual, predatory, vulnerable, submissive, strong, weak are all there. I am excited to be working in this dynamic, for as an objective (at times!) outsider, I see and can tweak this dance. I am excited because I think I can shake up some of their respecive roles and hopefully when the dust settles (and they are done kicking up their heels) things may settle in a different way.
For myself the dance of nia has been grounding my independence as a woman, person, soul. Will post images soon and am very exited to be Through the Eyes of Strangers with you! (We are all going to help install the show and be there hopefully for the opening).
Thursday, July 5, 2007
re-arrange, recognition
I rearranged my entire studio today; now my 6' paintings are confronting each other, the ten foot poles are on the other wall, and I can still see the traces of all my writings through the gesso...
It's not about the cow being the cow anymore but the female in relation to the male...aspects of my work that have always existed as a reaction to a former trauma now existing quite literally in the same space. Webbing together outside and inside.
Working title is The Stain of Memory: for Europa. Bringing together my interest in the "other" side of Greek myths, confronting Zeus, Apollo, and all the other immortal rapists. Zeus is in the form of the bull that kidnapped and raped Europa; the sacred cow is the sacred cow.
Two aspects of myself facing each other
the submerged and the surface
the repressed and the "easy"
the light and the dark
the masculine and the feminine
the back and the front
Some parts of my long list checked off today. More studio time tomorrow!
Tereza my images to the show out there are being sent out this weekend at the latest...Re-working the word wheels but the images/text pieces are done.
I'll post them here once they're scanned.
xxx
It's not about the cow being the cow anymore but the female in relation to the male...aspects of my work that have always existed as a reaction to a former trauma now existing quite literally in the same space. Webbing together outside and inside.
Working title is The Stain of Memory: for Europa. Bringing together my interest in the "other" side of Greek myths, confronting Zeus, Apollo, and all the other immortal rapists. Zeus is in the form of the bull that kidnapped and raped Europa; the sacred cow is the sacred cow.
Two aspects of myself facing each other
the submerged and the surface
the repressed and the "easy"
the light and the dark
the masculine and the feminine
the back and the front
Some parts of my long list checked off today. More studio time tomorrow!
Tereza my images to the show out there are being sent out this weekend at the latest...Re-working the word wheels but the images/text pieces are done.
I'll post them here once they're scanned.
xxx
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
spirit of aloha
This image (found on many postcards in Kauai and Oahu), resonated with me while I was in Hawaii. The spirit of Aloha what I understand it to mean is realized in the act of placing a lei onto another person.
The statue of King Kamehameha covered in leis made me think about how I love hanging things, draping things, layering things, like Annette Messeger's work:
What inspired me about the King's statue was the act of confrontation, recognition, acceptance, compassion. This has everything to do with the morse code necklaces, and everything to do with facing my former traumas. I immediately also thought of Cornelia Parker's wrapping of the Kiss by Rodin
What could it mean for me to place morse code wrappings around the statues of Zeus, Perseus, and other mythical "kings"? What could it mean to adorn a known perpetrator, as an act of compassion and acceptance?
The possibilities are endless, and I'm excited that they are extensions of what I like to do anyway, just in a relevant context. Much more to come.
getting back
The lists, the endless planning, the not breathing...all changed on my (5 year belated) honeymoon to Kauai. It was inspiring to be on an actual vacation, the first in a decade with my partner. I am recommitted to my studio practice, realizing I'm a visual artist and no one really knows about what I do or who I am. I've been inspired by the levels of work by my colleagues, and feel ready to make that leap into the great beyond I used to call Faith that the universe will provide, and that money is energy, etc. etc.
So I made a list of things I want to accomplish this month. It's totally realistic. I'll blog about each item as they get done.
So I made a list of things I want to accomplish this month. It's totally realistic. I'll blog about each item as they get done.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
This week in Brooklyn
-(4) steel beams, at 1500 lbs. each, got installed on site Friday
-Hired carpenter crew to fix structure; starting them tomorrow
-Thinking about writing a book about my experience as builder/owner
-Dinner tonight with friends; meeting M's "new boyfriend"
-Packed for belated honeymoon today
-Rode bicycles with T. I don't want to leave Brooklyn; want to move out of Queens right away
-Re-structured finances with both banks; approved as builders to call our own shots
-Re-structured priorities at work
-Started making artwork again this week, regularly. A practice is a practice is a practice
-Felt extremely tired
-Heat wave upon us
-Was on hold for hours with various companies
-Fought for monies owed by cheating plumbing subcontractor
-Did not let myself get walked on by former boss
-Meditated in new space
-Got new space exorcised/cleansed yesterday; received bonus housewarming gift of new sage smudge
-Realized we may have to move back in with parents for 4 months while construction continues and after we close on our apartment sale.
-Basement apartments are not for us
-Rent is not for us either
-Mind/body connection OK this week. Direction of summer and direction of fear different
-Spoke to old friend who sounds stronger
-Dreamt my brother died, dreamt of having lockjaw, bloody teeth and gums, swollen mouth inside an out on my left side, in a tower, flying fish below, Maribel Garcia as a video knowing she's dead but seeing her made me cry.
-Woke up crying.
-Called my dad for happy father's day
-Brushed my hair
-Hired carpenter crew to fix structure; starting them tomorrow
-Thinking about writing a book about my experience as builder/owner
-Dinner tonight with friends; meeting M's "new boyfriend"
-Packed for belated honeymoon today
-Rode bicycles with T. I don't want to leave Brooklyn; want to move out of Queens right away
-Re-structured finances with both banks; approved as builders to call our own shots
-Re-structured priorities at work
-Started making artwork again this week, regularly. A practice is a practice is a practice
-Felt extremely tired
-Heat wave upon us
-Was on hold for hours with various companies
-Fought for monies owed by cheating plumbing subcontractor
-Did not let myself get walked on by former boss
-Meditated in new space
-Got new space exorcised/cleansed yesterday; received bonus housewarming gift of new sage smudge
-Realized we may have to move back in with parents for 4 months while construction continues and after we close on our apartment sale.
-Basement apartments are not for us
-Rent is not for us either
-Mind/body connection OK this week. Direction of summer and direction of fear different
-Spoke to old friend who sounds stronger
-Dreamt my brother died, dreamt of having lockjaw, bloody teeth and gums, swollen mouth inside an out on my left side, in a tower, flying fish below, Maribel Garcia as a video knowing she's dead but seeing her made me cry.
-Woke up crying.
-Called my dad for happy father's day
-Brushed my hair
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Dancing- moving the fe/male forms
I have recently strated dancing agian. both Nia and Ballroom. Actually I will start teaching it in a few weeks.
The last time I danced was ten years ago and decided to let it go when it was taking time away from 'other work.
Moving my form post carrying a child is a whole other movement. I love the flow of mind and body working as one and teaching others this. It is neglected both for women and men here. Oh and sadly the sexuality/sensuality play into this form of expression as well.
I have to say, I feel most free in a new dance I have just started, nia- it is all women and of course this lends to a freeing atmosphere ( no need to dress up, smell good, paint face- refreshing.) This is what I would like to bring to ballroom- where historically sex plays such a huge role. Lets start with te labels, "leader"&"follower" for example.
Movement can feel so good- and when there is another human in front of one to move with it can feel remarkable- that subtelty between bodies, the respect. How do I teach this without the comments like "he is the sun of the universe, you (woman) spin around him?". Changing the language will be helpful to reframe this dance, I hope.
Keep on with the ten foot poles. Excited to see the images, videos, performances.
The last time I danced was ten years ago and decided to let it go when it was taking time away from 'other work.
Moving my form post carrying a child is a whole other movement. I love the flow of mind and body working as one and teaching others this. It is neglected both for women and men here. Oh and sadly the sexuality/sensuality play into this form of expression as well.
I have to say, I feel most free in a new dance I have just started, nia- it is all women and of course this lends to a freeing atmosphere ( no need to dress up, smell good, paint face- refreshing.) This is what I would like to bring to ballroom- where historically sex plays such a huge role. Lets start with te labels, "leader"&"follower" for example.
Movement can feel so good- and when there is another human in front of one to move with it can feel remarkable- that subtelty between bodies, the respect. How do I teach this without the comments like "he is the sun of the universe, you (woman) spin around him?". Changing the language will be helpful to reframe this dance, I hope.
Keep on with the ten foot poles. Excited to see the images, videos, performances.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
ten years
Today is my ten year anniversary being with my husband.
We've been together for t e n y e a r s...
Amazing that when I think about it it seems like a long time, but then when I consider the moments, each moment, it seems like no time at all.
I feel very lucky to be with a partner who has been a continuous supportive of me, someone whom I've learned so much from, and shared a third of my life with.
Today makes my heart feel bigger and lighter and happier
We've been together for t e n y e a r s...
Amazing that when I think about it it seems like a long time, but then when I consider the moments, each moment, it seems like no time at all.
I feel very lucky to be with a partner who has been a continuous supportive of me, someone whom I've learned so much from, and shared a third of my life with.
Today makes my heart feel bigger and lighter and happier
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
my ten foot pole
Just got a slot as a massage therapist for the WTA working at the US Open this year in August!! Now maybe I'll get to work on the ladies for my ten foot pole project, or at least have the potential to be in their presence!
Basically, I am visually playing with the phrase "I wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole"...investigating how that can look...having images of successful women whose fame and/or fortune has been discredited because of their sex and/or sexuality exist just above many a ten foot pole.
Last week I brought (4) ten foot dowels into my studio, and taped the images of women above them. Serena Williams, Martina, Martha Stewart, Louise Bourgeouis, Agnes Martin, Virignia Woolf, Edith Wharton, among others, Condelezza Rice were all up there to begin with.
The walk alone with these sticks under my arm and extending five feet in front of and behind me was an unexpected delight: walking from the male dominated hardware store (hilariously called Dykes Lumber) through the streets of Long Island City to my studio was the second best performance I ever did that no one saw (the first being my cleaning the studio stairs in Tuscany in '05; luckily a colleague witnessed that). The cat calls, whistles, slowed vehicles, and gawking stares of me carrying these poles made me consider "performing" again with the same sticks.
So, why female athletes? Thinking about my own history with sports, and the double standards women have when it comes to being successful. I have an interest in the female athlete stemming from Greek mythology (Athena, Daphne, and other strong women forced to transform themselves to get away from pesky persistent men) and being a gymnast for 11 years, competing for 6 years.
A suggestion was made to make my studio a mackette (spelling?) for a larger installation, and I may do just that. The idea of an illuminated image, media based, just far enough away from the top of the ten foot pole, reminds me of torches mobs used to carry on witch hunts and lynchings. I'll see where that leads me and post accordingly when I can.
Monday, June 4, 2007
ownership
Who owns a color, an idea, a lineage, a brush mark? I was discussing this with another artist today in her studio...the questions came up about how one can be possessive of visual vocabulary (like you can't use red because I used it in a painting six years ago! wah!) or not allow a picture to be taken by another person because THEY were going to take the picture and then give it to others, etc.
I found the whole thing depressingly childish and was saddened that my friend had to endure what I perceived as a pretty immature onslaught of insecurity, assumption, and projection.
It's hard to write about this and be vague about who what where when and how....but the underlying concept is interesting to me and maybe that's what I want to discuss...why can't one find similarities of work between artists fascinating rather than threatening? I always love when artists I know merge ideas, help one another, etc.
One can't own the word "the" and then lend it out to everyone else who wants to use it.
Steal! steal! steal! I hope the best for the above mentioned Little Miss Bossy
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Friday, June 1, 2007
GMC
Gordon Matta-Clark show at the Whitney. Breath of fresh air on a very hot and humid New York summer day.
Beautiful, very poetic approach to a violent act of sawing, cutting, splitting architectural structures. It left me feeling lighter, more quiet. I didn't feel the work was dated at all, and actually think I may try to see it again before it closes on Sunday.
I especially liked his idea to BB gun blow out windows at Cornell and place images of Public Housing Projects from the Bronx displaying the failure of modern architecture design. Curious that by banning the work at the University it became more powerful. Does the more one suppresses an idea the more infiltrating it can become? Does banning work make the work itself more interesting? I think I would have resonated with the piece regardless of whether it was banned or not. It was a great idea. Simple.
Beautiful, very poetic approach to a violent act of sawing, cutting, splitting architectural structures. It left me feeling lighter, more quiet. I didn't feel the work was dated at all, and actually think I may try to see it again before it closes on Sunday.
I especially liked his idea to BB gun blow out windows at Cornell and place images of Public Housing Projects from the Bronx displaying the failure of modern architecture design. Curious that by banning the work at the University it became more powerful. Does the more one suppresses an idea the more infiltrating it can become? Does banning work make the work itself more interesting? I think I would have resonated with the piece regardless of whether it was banned or not. It was a great idea. Simple.
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