quick list

I found the documentary section of Netflix streaming and I am so totally hooked. There was an amazing documentary on body modification that was absolutely fascinating. There was also a great documentary on Hasidic Judaism. Now I'm watching a documentary called Art City which chronicles artists and their process. While all the artists are really interesting, beauty is, of course, in the eye of the beholder. I can't say that I understand a lot of their works. They featured Amy Adler who's pastel drawings I found absolutely incredible. I just don't understand her process of photographing her drawings, printing them and then destroying the originals. I was in group therapy when I was around 15 years old and one of the girls in the group, her sister was a fantastic artist. She made this incredible collage using newspaper and magazine pictures and words and then painted american flags over it. She said it was an incredible piece of political artwork. She was appalled when her sister took this beautiful collage, sprayed it with lighter fluid and lit it on fire and proceeded to take pictures of the piece as it burned. I suppose I always look at art as creating and not destroying.

Anyway. I wanted to make quick note of some of the artists whos' works that I have really liked and would like take some of their elements and move them into my own art.

So far I have:

Chuck Close - breaks down photographs into grids and seurat-like creates donut shaped areas of color within the grid space that will form the picture when you step back from it; utilizes HUGE canvases.
Richard Tuttle - minimal approach of form and line with wire, wood and paint ie one inch rope nailed to a wall
Agnes Martin - acrylic paintings of soft stripes of varying pale colors to represent happiness and tranquility
Carolyn Martin -free form pencil and charcoal abstract drawings with movement


Other notes:
Cardboard end pieces could be arranged to simulate balls of yarn
Look into different wire, not just limit to copper
Must obtain broken bottles (or whole bottles that I can break myself) for still life

collage in my future...

When I was younger, I was always very preoccupied with how things were supposed to be. I'd draw animals that were always brown. Skies and oceans were always blue. Houses were always white. That's how they're supposed to be. My parents encouraged that sort of thinking. Rigid and strict definitions help children to learn the world slowly and are easier to comprehend at a young age. Sometimes I think that it took me a really long time to break out of that and to see the world differently with my own vision and my own self. Then again, it takes time to develop one's sense of self and that development never really stops. I'm 32 and while I'm pretty comfortable in my own skin these days, I think who I am will always be constantly evolving.

A long time ago, I stopped creating art out of frustration. None of the drawings or paintings looked the way I thought they were supposed to look. I found the creative process frustrating because always burning in the back of my head was the constant question of, "Is this the right way?" or "Is this how it's supposed to look?" The concept of the fact that no art is "wrong" art was completely lost on me when I was a teenager. So I ceased painting and attempting to create art.

Ever since my rejection from veterinary school, I've really been digging deep into my life to find some meaning. The dream of vet school consumed my life for 7 years. I lived it. I breathed it. I poured so much of myself into it that when I lost it, I lost myself. Ever since that day in January 2009, I have felt a hole building in me. It's like a black hole that is suddenly there but slowly pulls in everything around it leaving destruction behind. There's no real description for how empty I have felt in the past year. I've been slowly trying to fill that hole. Baha'u'llah stated in the Kitab-i-Aqdas, "Waste not your hours in idleness and sloth, but occupy yourselves with what will profit you and others." Too much free time is so not good for the spirit.

I need to reinvent myself again. I need to start refilling the void that this great disappointment has left in my life. I see art forming on canvases and paper. I've started oil painting again. I've started sketching again. I want to move into collage art. I see something forming in my mind now. I see copper wire and large print block letters and cards from library card catalogs. I want to make the blocks myself, carved from wood. I want really large block fonts in odd proportions like tall and skinny letters and short fat ones. I would love to use cardboard too. I can see swirls of cardboard glued together on end or cardboard glued together on end and cut into different shapes. Maybe some cut wood pieces would be an interesting addition as well.

Cold and wet....

The flower beds in the upstate house are starting to grow over with weeds. I tried weeding as much as I could buy after over an hour outside in the rain I couldn't take anymore. My clothes were soaked and my hair was dripping wet. I was starting to shiver so I went back inside. I have no idea what to do. The flower beds need to be weeded. I guess I'll stay in here, warm up and head back out. Maybe it will stop raining later although considering this is Ithaca I doubt it.

I'm really sad that the house isn't selling. It's been up for a few weeks now and was really doing well in the beginning.

3AM and I'm drowning slowly.....

So, as usual I am unable to sleep. 10mg of ambien later and, yes, I am still unable to sleep. I don't understand what happened. That stuff used to be magical for me. I'd take one pill and I'd be asleep within minutes and I'd wake up refreshed and ready to go. Now I take it and all I get is a little dizzy and unsteady on my feet.

Right now I'm in the house upstate. There are no cats here. There is no dog. There is no husband. It's just me... in a house in the country all alone. I think this is the most alone I've been in a very long time. I was expecting it to be serene and tranquil. It's more boring and vacuous. I keep remembering what I read in a Baha'i book about how idle fancies and trifle activities don't create fulfillment or purpose and that they lead to boredom and pointlessness and emptiness. I try to fill my life with a lot of things... knitting... quilting... and most recently oil painting. I suppose those are things that fill time under the guise of being productive.

I'm sure all this lack of purpose will melt away when I start working next week. I'm excited about the job, don't get me wrong. It will be nice to have some structure and something to do with my time again. I mean, oodles of free time sounds great but, honestly? After a few months you really start freaking out and it isn't healthy.

I know I can create a few different blogs and separate them... like make one for my personal rants and raves... another one for my art... another one for my knitting... another one for my quilting... another one for when the moon's full and there's a rabbit on my deck... but, well, all these things are me so I don't really see the point in draw and quartering myself.

I will try to update this thing often. My therapist said that journaling/keeping a diary would help me to get my feelings out. Funny though, when I did journal and keep a diary regularly it never felt like that. I always felt like I was making some sort of personal keepsake.... like something that I'd read later in life and go "wow I'm in so much better shape now than I was then..." or other such things.

Now it's 3:15 and I still don't feel tired. I always did hate sleeping alone and Chris isn't here and neither are any of the cats. I think that was the weirdest part about coming up here.... there was no small flock of cats to greet me at the door when I got here. It's cemented one thought into my head very clearly. I will never be able to live my life without at least one pet in the house.

Let's begin a new...

I tried the old fashioned paper journals again. And while I really love the visceral feel of putting pen to paper, it just wasn't able to get my thoughts out fast enough. I pondered for a little while trying to use the old typewriter my Uncle gave me but, again, I probably wouldn't be able to get my thoughts out fast enough. I figure I'd give this whole online blogging thing another try.