One of these years is not like the others...

Out of all the adjectives that have been used to describe me, "introspective" has never waivered in its accuracy.  I am 100% introspective and I always have been.  It's something that I've enjoyed at great length, but also a source of misery when my introspection becomes an obsession and I can't get out of it.

 

I have a strong, seems innate, drive to check in with myself, see if I'm making progress in my personal evolution, if I'm following the path I set for myself as a child, etc...  Once in a while, I do need to remind myself of the things that are important to me about existence.  If I'm not well (mentally) it's very easy to get derailed and lie in bed for days focusing only on how much the entire world sucks (it does) instead of realizing the "suckiness" and trying to figure out how to make it better (it is possible). 

 

During these times of self-reflection, I like to pull out my journals and see where I was then compared to now.  It's no secret that I deal with (I don't like to use the word "suffer") depression.  I have PTSD and a variety of other initialisms under my belt that really affect my day-to-day.  I think that's also why it's so important for me to keep a journal to record my highs and lows and other symptoms to get an idea about how well a treatment is working and to remind myself that: 1) It can get much worse and 2) It will get much better.  Since it's New Year's Eve, I was curious to see where I was at this time last year.  Once I found that out, I wanted to see about years prior.  This is what I found:

 

December 31, 2010 - I was severely depressed.  Didn't want to eat, move, speak, and just slept (and slept, and slept...).  I wrote about my frustrations with not being able to do artwork or write.  I was also going through some issues with family that were borderline devastating to me.  I didn't write any hopes for the upcoming year (2011).

 

December 31, 2009 - Suicidal.  That's it.  I wrote that I was suicidal, but I did mention my hope that 2010 would be better.  It wasn't.

 

I looked further back.  I found one from January 1st 2006.  I wrote of thinking about divorce and being mistreated.  Wanting a different life and wanting out of that place I was in.  Still grieving from a miscarriage that occurred in April 2005 and angry because of how much medication I was on and how it sucked everything - my light - out of me (it truly, truly did).

 

December 31st 1996 - I was 16 and wrote "I broke up with him".  I was sad.  Things weren't good at home.   I wanted a place to go and couldn't wait until I grew up.

 

So now it's December 31, 2011.  This year is not like the others.  I'm not going to write a journal entry in one of my books.  I'm going to write it here and share it with you because it has been monumental for me.  Even typing the last part of that sentence caused a lump in my throat because as the thoughts form in my brain to flow through my fingers they're full of an intensity that is difficult to contain.  Maybe you'll read this and think "That's not really a big deal" or "What the hell is she going on like that for?".  That's okay (I get it often).  Maybe you'll see what I mean and you have or will experience it in your own life.  That's cool too.

 

Here it goes (in my regular journal entry form):

 

31 December 2011  Saturday, 5:15 p.m.

New Year's Eve once again and, once again, I don't have the kind of plans I always want to plan for myself for New Year's.  I am scheduled to walk the neighbor's really, really cute dog.  Last year if I knew that was what my plan was going to be, I would have thought "How ridiculous" and wished for something BIG - thought I needed something significant!  But now walking that cute, fat, little Sheltie (who waddles, by the way) and watching my cats' reaction to dog smell when I get back is a wonderful way to celebrate.  It's not a party per se, but there is laughter, smiles, treats, hugs, and general foolishness.

 

This year has been crazy, quite literally. The lows were severe and my mental health issues were worse than they have ever been. I'm always wary to use the phrase "it can't get any worse" but this past year is certainly worthy of a nod in that direction.  There were 2 deaths, relationships were smashed, other relationships were rebuilt, another was reinforced, illnesses, tumors, psychotic breakdowns, and then...calm.  Hope.  Security, strength, liberation, confidence, independence, honesty, courage, love and love and love and love and love...

 

Something in my head changed.  I don't know what it is, but the way I would see things when I was manic is similar to how I see them now, sans the mania.  I grab experiences/feelings and, in my mind, I break them down, unravel them, take them apart piece by piece.  Not in a destructive way, though; more like a curiosity.  I want to figure them out from a rational, not emotional, standpoint.  Even the horrors.  I delight in the smallest of things, even my own achievements.  I've never been hard to please and I could easily become ecstatic over the most seemingly insignificant thing, but it has been years (YEARS) since I've known that.  And this time 'round, the events that bring me light are even smaller than before. 

 

As I write this, a part of me keeps saying "You're being weird"...it's that part of me that thinks I need to be serious, sound serious, and take life seriously...the part of me with a furrowed brow, trying to look more adult-like (or how I used to think adults looked - no spark in the eyes, strained faces, hardened words, tired).  Then there's the part that is saying "Then be weird.  And let the furrowed-browed pissy chick be a furrowed-browed pissy chick.  Just let go..."

 

"Just let go..."  I say it every day.  When things start to build, I let the words slide out of my lips along with a stream of air...like a whissssssssper.  It's soothing and it's the best advice I've ever given myself and the best advice I've ever learned how to take.

 

This year was remarkable in the amount of destruction and creation/restoration that occurred.  I don't wish the same thing for next year.  What I wish for next year is to keep evolving toward this lighter existence.  Keep reminding myself that it's okay to go outside and I don't have to be afraid.  Let myself know that I do have good ideas and I am capable of following through with them.  It's okay to trust myself and take care of myself.  I will have very bad times and I will continue to have psychotic breaks now and then, but they're not permanent.  Like very bad times, I will have excellent times as long as I allow them to happen.

 

I hope you were able to get something, no matter how small, from spending all this time reading.  Certainly much longer than I wanted it to be...maybe it would have been better to break it up.  Or maybe I should just let it be as it is.  For 2012 it would be awesome if everyone could spot something spectacular in something insignificant...and in turn, make it significant.  I'm losing steam and getting sleepy, so I'm going to close this.

 

For 2012, just let go and be excellent to each other (party on, dudes)!

A messy life and Work of Art...

My place is a wreck.  A serious, serious wreck.  After returning from the Illness Vacation and whipping out that MS Paint drawing on the 14th, I still have not properly cleaned my apartment nor have I really (really) worked on anything.  I did start a painting I was asked to do, but only started it and haven't touched it in a week.  Terrible.

 

Today, though, has started out wonderfully well.  I slept quite well (woke up nearly every hour, but did not allow myself to get out of bed), awoke at 5:30, made coffee, started laundry and dishes, and am well on my way to cleaning off the drafting table and getting my rather large behind in gear! 

 

Last night I watched the final episode of "Work of Art" (thank you On Demand!).  Two days prior, I watched the next-to-final episode and couldn't wait to see the end.  Wow.  Before watching, I was certain Young would win due to his previous successes.  I liked the idea of his work for the finale, but I couldn't get into it.  Although, I would have liked to stand in that structure he built to see the photos of his boyfriend and mother staring back at me - I really dug that concept.  I'm not sure why that wasn't made to be more significant in the work.

 

Sara's work was really beautiful.  Both the crane piece and bed of hypodermic needles are equally my favorite, just in different ways.  I wasn't entirely sure about the video (or the web), but I think it worked.  I wonder if maybe it was detrimental to her winning, though?  I go back and forth on it; a part of me feels it was necessary.  I am a fan of getting to the nitty-gritty of a person's being.  That she took an idea that allowed people to say whatever they wanted/needed due to the freedom of anonymity was fantastic.  Something like that always ranks high with me. 

 

I would think it a tough decision choosing between Sara and Kymia's work, but they chose well.  I can't think of any piece Kymia did that I didn't like - including the burial mounds.  The boat picture was my favorite, of course.  That picture makes the cliché "a picture is worth..." true.  Truly stunning.  I'm still not sure about the headpiece so I will need to watch that episode again (I usually watch each one a couple of times because my head doesn't always sit straight and still).  Really, all of the paintings she did were beautiful.

 

Time to fly now.  I'm running low on juice and getting easily distracted (I'm sure you can tell mid-way through the Sara paragraph!).

Illustration Friday: "Separated"

It is Wednesday and in 2 days a new theme will be given on Illustration Friday, but I 'na care...I wanted to do one right now so I did.

 

I LOVE MS PAINT!  I do.  It has been a favorite of mine since high school "supposed-to-be-working-but-goofing-off-instead" time.  And when I'm sleepy or just need to move my hands without much thought, this type of drawing appears.  Paint, colored pencil, marker, and now in MS Paint.  Naked lady with blocks of color separating her.  Apparently I enjoy that sort of thing.

 

Here it be, yo.

 

 

Calamity brings calm, conversation reaches crux...

Complications occur which brings about the birth of a new, lesser, calamity. 

 

That entire string from title to first sentence occurred from around my last post in November until today, December 7th.  I had to leave town because of a serious family illness.  Family member is on the mend, sans 1 lung, and a calm occurred.  I had a conversation with a different family member which became a sort of "Well someone [me] has to say something!" ordeal which, of course, causes complications and disaster!  Temporary disaster.  Completely avoidable temporary disaster. 

 

These life events have always derailed me.  In the past I would have been out of order for an undetermined (far too long) amount of time, but I have worked at getting myself to a point where I'm not really hindered for more than a few days to a week.  Progress.  There are a variety of factors that aid in this, not the least of which being a distance of approx. 500 miles between me and the area of destruction (the home, not the area of destruction that resides within myself).

 

When my psyche-train runs off the tracks, my home, work, and play are soon to follow.  Since I'm updating this blog today and have managed to get quite a bit of housecleaning and laundry done since my return this past weekend, I would say that I'm several steps ahead of where I worried I would be and am quite thrilled to be here.  Hopefully tomorrow I can get started on something...anything!

 

While I was home, I saw a few pictures hanging up in my parents' living room that I didn't notice, but were mine.  One I remembered giving to my little brother because, for whatever reason, he really really wanted it.  This is that:

 

 

Illustration Friday: "Vanity"

Before drawing this I wanted to doodle a bit to prepare for whipping out "Vanity". That's what I told myself anyway. I spent over an hour working on some eye as "preparation" and completely forgot about I.F. Hand tired, back and neck cramped and on fire I scratched this thing out.

A chick. A pile of bodies. A hand mirror. What else could anyone ask for?

This is a face...

This is only a face. I'm terribly uninspired, so I doodled a face with watercolor pencils.

Illustration Friday: "Silent"

A quickie!

Sensible blathering...

So, the whole purpose of this blog is to make myself get off my keister and keep being creative. I sometimes forget that one creative thing I enjoy doing is writing. One of the many things I wanted to be as a child was a writer! I loved it and still do. Lately, though, I have shoved it aside and focused more on the idea of making artwork (I would say doing artwork, but I haven't been doing much these past couple weeks) and beating myself up for procrastinating.

Writing certainly makes my head work and when my head is working, ideas always come to me - including ideas for visual works. So...I'm writing. I had thought about making yet another blog strictly for "Sensible Blathering" but, honestly, I have too many blogs. Way too many. Since I've been using "It Does Art", I haven't posted to the others, so there is no point in creating another one that will eventually be neglected. I'll just blather here because it's tied to being creative!

A little known fact about me: I have started writing 3 books in my life. One was started when I was still in high school and the other two were started in my early 20s. Note I said started instead of completed. Yes...procrastinator. I like the idea of going back to them, but out of the 3, 2 will not be picked up where I left off because I'm not the same as I was then. However, I can still take the ideas and form them around who I am now and the similar messages I want to convey. I think about them often and I think about how much motivation I had when I started them and how I just became overwhelmed with life in general, not the writing. I think about how I am now and there are still aspects of me that haven't changed much - the main one being my attention span and how frustratingly short it is. It's something I work on and as long as I'm doing something to keep my head working in a creative manner, I'm okay with it.

I keep reminding myself that there really isn't anything I'm incapable of doing. That includes finishing books, creating serious/ridiculous artwork, or even going outside when I'm just too afraid. It's the same for you. Not a "if you dream it, you can do it" message - more of a "break things down into their simplest forms so you can see how non-complicated things can be".

I want to make a candle holder out of paper-mache/papier-mache - I realize this would be along the lines of ridiculous artwork. Woohoo fire!

An Etsy test drive...

I finally (finally!) added some pieces to my Etsy shop. I've had an Etsy account for years, but never actually used it. I had the intent to use it, but I'm a procrastinator (as if I had to tell you that) and just never got around to it.

I put 5 ACEOs in my shop because I'm a bit hesitant about breaking out the big guns. These little drawings/paintings are harmless and inoffensive so I thought they would be a good place to start. Just to see, you know. Plus, now that I posted them, I'm motivated to start working on pieces again. I had to take a break for a bit over a week because I was busy being consumed with finding a reliable vehicle to replace our "Rust Machine Who Likes To Eat Money". I was successful with that, so now it's time to get back to my own thing!

If you would like to check out the Etsy shop, here is the link: http://itdoesart.etsy.com

Back to work!

Illustration Friday's "Fuel"

A few years ago I discovered this gem of a site “Illustration Friday”. It’s perfect for us creative cats who need a bit of motivation or fun. Because I’m absent-minded and a procrastinator, I have posted a total of maybe 3 illustrations. That’s about 1 per year! Yeah…

So, this week’s topic is “fuel”. There were many thoughts that swarmed around in my head and a few drawings were made, but I just couldn’t feel them. And then I got it.

Backstory: On October 19, 2011 the Dalai Lama lead a day long prayer and global fast in honor of the people of Tibet who have self-immolated, were killed, or are jailed for fighting for human rights. This day of solidarity was something that I wanted to participate in and while I’m not religious and have few true beliefs, one strong one is that I believe that our minds are incredibly powerful and even sending out positive thoughts/energy can have an effect. Although I’m terrible at being calm and clear headed, I chose to fast and (try to) meditate in support.

I sometimes use candles to help me focus on something and nothing while meditating. I used a tea light and as I was drawn into the flame, I experienced some slight visual disturbance – enough to give me an image. The base of the flame looked like the silhouette of a person sitting in a typical meditative position. Of course it looked like it was surrounded – or on – fire. That made me think of those that self-immolated. I continued on, but the image didn’t leave my head.

I chose to illustrate that image for “Fuel”. To me, it goes beyond thinking of fuel as an accelerant. The fuel is many things: oppression, hate, desire for change, self-sacrifice, a statement. Thinking of the ancient elements: earth, water, fire, and wind, fire was the only one that could produce a chemical change. Anything could be something else.

Hello stomach virus...

How are you this evening? 

 

Nature put me out of commission for a few days and while I was hoping that I would be well enough to accomplish something productive today, I didn't.  I was well enough to, but I had a lot of cleaning to catch up on.  Plus I don't consider cleaning productive - my kind of productive anyway.

 

Thankfully my illness opened my head up a bit and allowed a few ideas through.  I'm excited to start working on them tomorrow.  Whilst in bed and unable to move, I was stuck with the t.v.  I found a show called...well, something about art.  It had "art" in the title.  I watched 2 episodes (they were about an hour long) and although I missed most of the second episode (sleep attacked me), I was pleased with what I saw of the first.  It's about an art competition; 10 (or so) artists compete for their own show at the Brooklyn Art Museum.  The first contestant to get canned was Ugo; a beautiful Frenchman whose style is similar to that of Keith Haring.  Initially his piece was unimpressive and boring...lots of red layers.  But then he removed the red backdrop and WOW.  It seemed like it came alive.  It was unfortunate he didn't remove the red backdrop from the get-go - undoubtedly that would have saved him.

 

Don Vito the "Pig" is running laps around his cage and it's loud, so I'm retiring for the night.  Since I haven't posted to this, I will leave you with a picture I drew while working as a TSR.  No thought involved (obviously) - simply sitting in front of a computer, listening to people threaten to end my life because they have no internet connection.  Sometimes I actually miss that job, but I think it's because I was good at it and there are very few things I'm good at.

 

Goodnight!

 

My difficulty with writing...

Those that know me have often been subjected to very long emails nearing novelette lengths. And they're just emails. They're filled with possible ramblings or just several paragraphs of intense thought. But still...they're emails. They should be short and to the point.

I've been working on that, so now my emails usually are short and to the point, but I really have to fight off rambling and giving every detail of every thing I'm attempting to communicate. I think partly it's because of my fear of being misunderstood. This carries on into my blogs.

When I create a post that involves a drawing, it's much easier for me to just quickly jot down a few thoughts about the image and leave it at that. I certainly have an urge to go in depth and tell you every thought I have about not only the resulting image, but also my feelings on it while creating it and so on. What happens is I end up with a very, very long post that not many people will want to read. Plus, when I write like that it seems I get burned out. So much so that I won't post for a very long time after. Obviously, that happens now without the burnout, but I'm working on that too!

I feel internally divided - where one part wants to share a lot with the world and be very open about everything (I think letting people know they're not alone while still acknowledging their unique circumstances is important) and the other part wants to remain closed off, severely private and almost cold, I suppose. It's a constant battle and whoever the victor is depends on my mood that day or moment.

The reason I'm thinking about these things tonight and writing about it is because I want to try to find a middle ground or at least a comfortable place with my posting (and myself). Presenting those pieces as I do was a big deal for me because there is a lot (a LOT) of resistance from my family and some friends about the type of work I do and it's always been a struggle trying to feel good about myself and please them at the same time. My family likes what I do as long as it's not what "I" do, if that makes sense. I don't think I would ever be able to show them the works that I post here and the amazing thing is that these pieces have been very well received by others - I didn't think that was possible. The voices of my family rotate through my head when I make those sometimes, so to hear/read positive messages/critiques about them floors me.

I know that when some people meet me and then see my artwork, their initial impression of me goes through a pretty large overhaul. I could say that I'm not a violent person; I'm actually very peaceful, but that's not entirely true. It goes back to that division I mentioned earlier - part of me is violent and angry and the other part is incredibly peaceful and loving. That's not to say that the work is violent though. I don't think it is. I think the last two images I posted are actually very loving and represent an ultimate of something...maybe self-sacrifice? There are so many themes that could be applied and, if it were up to me, "violent" would be at the end of the list.

I like to keep this blog not too personal, but not so distant either. I hope I'm achieving that. I'm pretty sure I rambled...

"Kindness..."

That's a possible title: "Kindness..." I finished this last night and I'm not sure how I feel about it. While I was still in the sketching phase, I couldn't decide if I wanted to make the male subject's face similar to the previous pieces or if I wanted him to have a peaceful appearance. I went with peaceful and while inking it, I felt as though I had made a mistake. Now I'm not so sure that I did... I think it might work.

Slacka!

I am a slacker! Procrastinator, excuse-maker, etc... I was hoping it hadn't been more than a couple of weeks since I updated with fresh work/posts, but it has. WAY more. I'm ashamed.

I haven't really been accomplishing much as far as quantity. I have, however, finished a drawing that I attempted 3 times before. I suppose 4th time's the charm. As usual there are several potential titles flying through my head, but at least this time there is a theme: "Dinner".

My goal with this one was to get our female's face and hands to emotionally match. I think I've achieved it. When I asked J.D. what his thoughts were, he said "Love" and I was happy.

I'm still having some problems with background. I really like using chalk pastels for backgrounds. I like the effect it offers the picture and overall feel. I'm just not always confident in my choice of colors. This one, though...it might be okay.

Time for dinner.

Creation...

The process of creation is certainly a difficult one. I thought I would be quickly updating this with new pieces and progress shots, but I'm empty. I've been working and re-working a drawing these past several days so much that the paper has pilled and is now useless to me. It resembles a note-taking scrawl worthy of reference but not much more. Stress.

While fighting with that drawing, I had the words "Well, you're not really an artist then" echo through my head. In my post, Messing Around With Sculpture, I mentioned a conversation I had where I was told the above line. It never left my brain...it was scorched on there...branded. I was in my hometown having a conversation with a respected, well educated businessman. He had just returned from a vacation abroad and was talking about the differences in our country's view on art/artists to the views other countries held. He felt, compared to these other places, we didn't respect artists, understand art, nor took either seriously. He was aware of what I did and wanted to know about my process. He wanted to know everything: why I do it, what goes through my head, what master is reflected in my work, and so on. I didn't have the right answers for him. I think he was eager to use his new found interest and have a conversation with Michelangelo and I could only give him responses from a small town weirdo.

I told him I didn't know why I did what I did - I just had to do it. Sometimes nothing goes through my head and it feels like I'm doodling while other times I'm so overwhelmed with emotions that I leave my brain and get trapped in brushstrokes. And then I listed a few artists that inspire me. My answers didn't suit him. He was stuck on my use of the word "doodle" and said "Well, you're not really an artist then" and ended our conversation.

I was crushed. I was still quite young and very, very new to the idea of the possibility that I could be an artist and I took his words as truth/fact. He was educated, after all. And he went to places that I've, still, only seen in pictures or had explained to me by family and a couple of friends. I was convinced that he was right and I was a fool. It wasn't until I got out and met artists that I realized he was wrong. Because he had the Sistine Chapel above his head for a period of time does not make him an expert on what makes artists tick. He was simply a sort of poseur hoping to use his travels to seem semi-interesting to a community that is not interested. He did not want to know why I do what I do and even now, years later, I highly doubt my slightly evolved answers would suit him. He made up his mind while learning about the celebrated masters....anything or anyone less than that would be insulting and worthless.

Hopefully now that I've spat a bit, I can get those words out of my head, grab a new sheet of paper, and start again!

-M

"Where Do You Come From"...

That is a working title, although I'm sure I'll keep it. First thoughts are generally the ones I go with.

I am not thoroughly pleased with this piece. I felt that I really rushed it, especially today, and that impatience lead to a slew of problems. I intend to redo it at some point after I've given myself time to look it over and nitpick.

One thing I've been trying with these last two pieces (talking about the post prior to this one that has yet to be titled) is to play with the paper and see how tolerant it is. I use this paper a lot - Bristol Smooth. It's one of my favorite papers to use, but I'm not so sure it's suitable for pastels. Or maybe it's the repeated erasing and aggressive rubbing that did it in, but not long into working the sky the paper started to pill up - mainly around the female's head. It all went downhill from there.

One thing I like about the picture are the expressions. While the faces aren't nearly as expressive as I wanted them to be, I feel like I still got some of it out. It's certainly an excellent starting point for the next attempt at this particular piece.

I'm growing accustomed to this sigh I get when I finish a work - usually right after removing all the tape. It's...relief. Pleasure. Excitement and anticipation. I like it! My rotator cuff, however, does not and is super pissed.

-M

One completed piece...

Finally I have finished something! A drawing, but it's still something. I don't have a title yet (of course), or at least one that isn't vulgar/offensive/sarcastic/typical. That will come in time...I'm just glad I finished something for once and have that warm fuzzy feeling of accomplishment. I'm so done with it that I'm already picking it apart and seeing my mistakes, so it's time to put it away from my eyes for a while and start on another.

Here are 3 poorly taken images from the drawing:

-M

Nearly a month later...

I did not realize how much time had passed since my last post! I knew it was getting up there... I've been working on that large pink thing painting and haven't decided if I'm actually making progress or just slapping on coats of paint. My opinion waffles, so today I only worked on it for a bit and decided to prime a different canvas. Just getting it off my easel for a little while offers a break.

Here are 3 photos, each at different stages. The last photo being the current stage, of course.

-M

The Fiction Project: Round 2 (and 3, 4, 5, etc...)

A couple weeks ago, I completed the Fiction Project for the Art House Co-op. Still haven't mailed it in (of course), but at least it's done and...yeah. At least it's done.

This is the first "story" I wrote in it. It wasn't even near any intentions I had and like most things, it just happened. Not a terrific start and a strange following to the page before it, but I left it anyway. The writing is sloppy and rather than using the pages as pages, I used both as one large page. Confusing, messy, and not at all what I wanted to do. Enjoy (if you can)!

**

For pages 6-7, going along with the unsettling and/or depressing theme, I jotted some quick words about a fat girl that wasn't really fat (to sum it up in the most non-colorful, downright boring way possible).

**

Pages 8 and 9 aren't even a story. At least, not one with words. But it is something that I would love to forget (since my theme is "I'm Sorry I Forgot You").

**

10 and 11. Sad blue eyes, even when he smiles his most perfect smile. Blond hair (now dark blond/brown). Sweet, sweet child with a lot of anger. Jes. I have so much hope for him. I do.

**

I think the story on 12-13 is pretty self explanatory. It's titled "My Moment with You" and it was very difficult to write. It's even difficult to share by posting it here. The man I mentioned still doesn't know about the existence of the story or my feelings, but I'm sure they'll eventually be uncovered. When I wrote it the timing was perfect, in a way. Near the end, while writing my apology, I was experiencing what is written. The time of night, how I felt...everything. I didn't go back to read over it for several days and when I did go back, I found a few misspellings and things that I wouldn't have written if I hadn't been in that state of mind. A big part of me wants to edit it, but I can't allow myself to do that. It's painful and makes me feel incredibly vulnerable, but I think it would be unfair to alter it, even for those reasons. So it stays as is.

I will be posting more of the project as I touch up the scans.

-M

The Sketchbook Project book is here...

And has been...for a couple weeks!!  I just haven't mentioned it because I haven't done any work in it yet.  The reason I haven't done any work in it yet is because I just finished illustrating THE FICTION PROJECT!  I am SO horrible with these things.  Thankfully Art House Co-op will still take my book.  It won't go on tour, but that's cool because that wasn't the point of me doing the Fiction Project anyway.

 

Since I'm terrible at most things having to do with paying attention, I didn't realize that the sketchbook would be so much smaller than the fiction book.  It has much better paper, though, and I am kind of excited about the size.  Depending on my mood, I either have too much workspace or not enough.  The size of the sketchbook is enough that I won't be limited but also won't be overwhelmed.  It's all good.

 

I haven't finished my paper mache arm, yet.  Things went awry in real life and I've not had a chance to get back to it.  Soon, though.  Soon.  I need to see it finished and heft it about.

 

One thing I did manage to nearly complete (nearly completing things is a big step for me) is a painting that my friend, A wrote a poem about.  I wanted to give it to him, but first I wanted to touch it up.  I managed to do that!  I also varnished it and now all I need to do is ship it to him.  That's the part that I was supposed to do earlier this week, but that's another thing that was tossed to the side when life hit the fan!  Soon...very soon!

 

That's all I have for now.  I'm not sure why but my head has been flooded with ideas and images that I need to do (I like to refer to them as "visions" because they feel like it, whether it's when I'm dreaming or awake and they sort of flash in my brain and stick).  Notepad has come in very handy for this.  First I must ship out A's painting.  Then I must send the Fiction Project.  Then I will get back to my own thing (the arm, the visions, etc...) while also working on the Sketchbook Project.  All things will fall into place...they just have to.

 

-M

Messing around with sculpture...

It has been quite some time since I posted. For a few months, I've been gradually spiraling downward in depression. It hit and it hit hard, but yesterday and today seem okay for the most part. I'm certainly not feeling my norm, but I'm hoping I'll get back there soon. Anyway, I'm feeling well enough to do artwork and, really, that's all that matters.

Not ready to get back to that large painting I posted about earlier and not in the mood to work on a drawing I started, I decided to try to create something that has been stuck in my head for years. Several months ago, while pondering this idea, I figured out what materials would be best to use to create it exactly how I want it. Flour, water, and newspaper (or some other kinds of paper). Yes...paper mache. Or papier-mache if you're too cool for paper mache ;)

I'm notorious for my snobbery when it comes to supplies - not to other artists and their choices, but to my own. And not all the time, either. Just once in a while, I'll turn my nose up at an idea I have as the words "Well you're not an artist, then" float through my head (not said by me, but to me...more on that later). Certain things/people make me doubt my abilities, but then I remember the images that float through my head (and sometimes stick for years) and my ability to put them in physical form. And then I consider the fact these people that enjoy telling me what I am or am not are not able to do this. The satisfaction I feel when I remember that not all of me sucks is good and also acts a a giant middle finger to those naysayers. "You can say that, but look what I can do!"

Knowing these things about me, I sort of feel like I'm having a sordid affair by using paper mache. It feels good, though. I love messy and I love getting my hands thoroughly involved in what I'm doing. Paper mache lets me do that. I get to enjoy the feel of sculpting at a much cheaper cost than clay!

Here are a couple progress photos taken on June 16th :

Back to work today - I took more photos yesterday that I will post later. My original intention was to keep the fingers and wrist flexible, but while working on it yesterday, I decided against that and formed the hand into a position that I found attractive.

-M

Listener and the local art community...

I was fortunate enough to go to Area 15 and experience Listener first hand. When I first found them, I was blown away by not only the presentation of Dan Smith and Chris Nelson, but also the words. Words are severely important to me, so if you have a song that doesn't have much to say, chances are I'm not going to dig it. Listener is like heavy poetry with instruments. The timing of the instruments really adds to the overall effect of the song and the experience for us, the listeners. The very first song I heard, "Wooden Heart" would be the perfect example of this. In this version, Dan is speaking at the beginning, not accompanied by anything but his energy. Toward the middle Chris starts to play light, individual guitar notes, held long that slither through Dan's words and create a thick feeling. Like they're letting you know you're going to hear something important, so pay attention. And from that point on, everything that is said, accompanied by the guitar, is heavy. Very heavy. The timing of the guitar and the words that follow made my heart race, and do so every time I listen. I can't help but, nearing the end of the song, allow the lump in my throat some give and open up the floodgates. Every time. I think that is a song that I could listen to every day for the rest of my life and still end up crying at the end. The imagery is outstanding and I can't think of a single person, good or bad, that wouldn't be able to relate to it in some way.

So, when the chance came for me to see them on Saturday, I took it. Because I don't leave my apartment that often (checking the mail is a feat, at times) and haven't really been out in almost a year, I was very nervous. I was nervous about the drive into NoDa and nervous about being there. The "what ifs" swarmed around in my brain and my heart felt like it was going to give out several times. Enter Valium. That helped. What also helped was Jeremy. Jer enjoys picking on me because of my taste in...everything. Music, movies, etc... We're opposites with most things. I wanted so badly to share Listener with him, but I was worried that it would be yet another thing he would pick on me about. I chose to link him to "Ozark Empire, or a snakeoil salesman comes to your town" because the meaning of the song is something I knew he could relate to, plus it was a video so it didn't nearly show Dan's energy that some find off-putting. Win-win. He listened to it and hasn't stopped since. He was 100% in for everything - really into Listener, wanting to go with me to see them and be in a community that he always thought he would feel uncomfortable in. Brilliant. Everything was brilliant. He was so into the people and the group that he melted into the community that he was worried about fitting in with. It was beautiful.

I attempted to talk to Dan and Chris, but I didn't do very well. I'm known for writing well and speaking like shit. That's what happened. There were so many things that I wanted to tell them and I couldn't get any of it out. I didn't want to gush or proclaim my love for them or anything. Really, I just wanted to thank them for doing what they do and how they do it. There's a lot of love there, in the words and everything. I can't call it a performance, because that word makes me think of something that's put on, feigned - nothing like what Dan and Chris offer. They're both very down to earth and friendly and...genuine. Dan's handshake is firm and he has a very intense fire behind his eyes. Intimidating, but not for the purpose of being so. Chris has an childlike smile and seems to be softer and lighter, with a handshake to match. To help us, mainly me, remember everything about that night, we have a photo. Jeremy is standing between Chris and Dan, all three looking as though they hang out all the time, and Jeremy's face is lit up more than I've ever seen. It's great to see his light. I'm looking forward to the next time we get to experience Listener. Perhaps then I won't mumble and stutter.

Finally the writing is fin...

I finished writing in my Fiction Project book last night.  The last story is completed and now I just need to illustrate it and send it.  I contacted the staff at Art House Coop to make sure they would still accept my project even though I am really, really late.  I know that it won't go on tour, but that's okay because the whole point of me doing it was to actually complete something.  As usual, I'm running behind, but that disappointment is balanced out by the weird sense of accomplishment I get every time I get closer to sending it.  Oh, and they will still accept it.

 

I will be signing up for the Sketchbook Project today (or tomorrow).  That isn't due until January 2012, so I'm pretty sure I have time.  I only had a bit over a month to do the Fiction Project because I didn't know about it until 3 days before registration ended.  I got the book sometime in April. 

 

So, yeah.  For the past week, while working on the FP, I take breaks more often just to do quick drawings that aren't related to the project at all.  They're not anything but ways of relaxing and exercising my hand.  As always, the "meaningless doodles" are potentially vulgar and sensorially offensive.

 

-M

 

 

I missed the boat!!

On Saturday I realized that the Fiction Project had to be there by May 16th, not just postmarked.  I'm so disappointed in myself, however I will still be sending it.  It won't go on tour, but that's okay...it is important for me to finish it and send it.  To actually complete something!

 

I was looking through my sketchbook (unrelated to The Sketchbook Project, which I have yet to register for) and have really been in the mood to take some of the ideas and put them on "good" paper with "good" supplies.  Either watercolors or colored pencil...not sure which, yet, but I'm looking forward to being completely finished with the Fiction Project so I can work on some drawings.

 

Going back to the Fiction Project, I wrote 4 short stories on Friday night that I still need to copy into the book (avec illustrations).  By the middle of the 4th story I was so exhausted that I was hitting the backspace key more than any other one.  When I read through them on Saturday, I realized that I must have started getting tired during the 2nd story because anything past the first one was total shit!  I rewrote the second and read it to JD twice.  He didn't get it the first time 'round, but really enjoyed it the second time (I think it's because I have a nasty habit of stopping to explain something, and I didn't do that the second time). 

 

JD is terrific in so many ways, but I will admit that one of the things I appreciate most about him is that he has such a fantastic imagination and he's deeply creative.  Any time I want something read over, he's the first person I go to because of these abilities.  Some of the stories in my Fiction Project I've gone over with him before I entered them in the book...I'm excited to put these 4 in there today.

 

Whew!  Hopefully I will be done today and can have JD mail it out tomorrow or, since he has Wednesday off, I may mail it out then.

 

-M 

Taking a break/refresher...

Either works.  I just got back from the dentist and while preparing to go back to working on the Fiction Project, I realized that I don't have ANYTHING in my head right now.  Nada.  Anything worthwhile to use, anyway.

I have had a large canvas on my easel for a few-several months.  I started the painting in January and worked on it for a few weeks, then stopped.  So it just sits there.  I didn't take it off the easel when I rearranged my "studio", so when I moved it, I hurt my back because of the weight and awkwardness...maybe I'm angry with it.  Anyway, I thought posting photos of what progress I did make on it would be motivational for me.

The canvas itself was a gift from people that changed their feelings about me, so the painting I'm putting on it represents those people, in a way.  That might be another reason why I haven't worked on it.  It's difficult to think about and not get sad or angry.  But it's so important for me to finish it because of what it represents.

This is what it started out as:

Then it turned into this:

I don't know if you noticed, but they're two different paintings.  I started out in one direction, then decided to Thelma & Louise that idea, and covered it up with this.  This is not unusual...I think well over 3/4 of all my paintings have at least 1 completely different painting under them.  I have lots of canvases that have several paintings on them.  I don't know why I do it...I just do.

This is what it looks like right now:

Slight progress...enough progress that I'm able to remember where I was heading and I want to keep that direction.

Maybe I'll write about it!  Probably not.  *sigh*  Off to attempt to make something worthwhile!

-M

The Fiction Project may end up being just that...

A fictional project!  Next Monday, May 16th, is when the book must be postmarked.  And I'm still.not.done.

 

I was able to spill a few things on the pages, but I have a long way to go and not much in my head.  At least not anything suitable.

 

I need some inspiration or...something.  I need to just do it (as Nike frequently suggests).

 

-M

Extended deadline for The Fiction Project!

I am a procrastinator.  A horrible one.  Thankfully, Art House Co-op has extended the deadline for the Fiction Project from May 1st to May 16th!  Unfortunately, extended deadlines enable me to be at a standstill and continue to put things off.  I'm not going to allow myself to do that, though!  I have a lot of empty space left (a LOT) and not much time to fill it up.

 

Inspiration comes quite easy, but motivation does not.  I know what I want to do, but I don't know how to word it or express it.  Another lesson in not being so hard on myself and not worry about perfection!

Art House Co-op's "The Fiction Project"

I missed the boat for the Sketchbook Project.  I remember finding it online and I was thrilled that something like this existed and I really wanted to do it.  But then the idea drifted from my head.  I was still on meds, therefore still not "there".  So in March I found it again (remembering that I had wanted to do it) but since I was late, I saw "The Fiction Project" and, with 3 days left to sign up, I jumped on it.

The Fiction Project is similar to the Sketchbook Project, except you write stories.  Or poems.  Really, it seems you can do whatever you want, as long as you try to keep a bit over half the book written rather than drawn.  Writing has always been a large part of my life.  When I would think about what I wanted to do (not what other people wanted me to do) being an artist was always first and being a writer came in as a "second first".

I received the blank cashier's book a couple of weeks ago and I have a whopping 9 pages done.  I have about a week to get it sent back to them (must be postmarked by May 1st).  I tore out 4 pages because, being a perfectionist, I couldn't get it the way I wanted it.  I've stopped doing that.  It's far from perfect, far from what I would like it to be, but it still gets the point across.  I've used watercolors, marker, ink, acrylic, and pencil.  The paper in the book is very light, so it's certainly not made for watercolors or really anything beyond a marker.  I don't care.  It works. 

The theme I chose is "I'm Sorry I Forgot You".  Out of all of them, I felt that one would be most appropriate.  There are a lot of ways that theme can be applied, so I'm trying to work them all.

Here is the first page of my book...a page of notes.  I like order...at first.  I created a page of short notes thinking that I would be able to organize the book and make everything neat and tidy, but then my reality hit and since I'm none of those things, neither is the book.  It's a catch-all of thoughts.  Chaotic. 

This is the back of the first page:

The last picture I'll post is the page opposite of the above page.  It's just a quick illustration relevant to my inability to always decipher reality from fantasy.

More to come! 

First post...

I finally have this blog set up as well as my Wordpress blog.  Now, time to relax and create!