Well, I'll bet you didn't think you'd be hearing from me in this particular venue again, seeing as I have been a bad blogger-mommy for months. Oh I've been around, I've been doing stuff (or kinda yeah), but I've also been grappling with the fact that I no longer exist in the sweet anonymity of undergraduate-hood wherein I can be assured that the only people looking at my blog are friends and family. I live in a city now. I sit in a window box at the bookstore talking to people about art, on the best days. I am proud to be a part of an art community that requires give and take, and I am happy that I have ways to reach out to artists and arts writers and organizers outside of my community. Perhaps all of this outward growth that is afforded to me should also come with a little thought and effort on my part. I.e., since this blog is the first thing that pops up when my name is googled, maybe, baby, I should be more careful with what I post here.
This is not to say that I want to get all self important with myself, it's just that I am reconsidering the whole sharing intimate thoughts and feelings with the Internet thing. That in itself is a hard decision for me because I have been in the habit of keeping an online journal for nearly ten years now. It's an important outlet for self-reflection for me, and I value the ability to keep up with friends this way. I cannot facebook status update you into my life, nor can I even iphone photo flickr upload you into my days. So I guess just sitting here writing this I have answered my own question: time to start a new journal. I will continue to post announcements and the odd picture or link here until I get myself a real website, and I will start a new journal that will be a little more private. Hooray. You have just witnessed writing as a process of self discovery, which is something that is not going to stop being important to me.
Change pledged, I will still go forward with updating this one last time.
Let's see... the show at Colab went off with resounding success. I feel that Carling, Lauren and I entered into a true collaboration this time around, planning our project together from the very beginning. This kind of closeness in making is so precious to me. It's as though we can see ahead to what the others will do before we can comprehend our own work. There were numerous instances when I was struggling with a decision that one of my collaborators could see the answer to clearly, and days or weeks (or moments) of indecision would melt away as felt I had been dropped right back on track. That synchronicity was compounded by the sense that we were all slaves to each other. No longer being in school, it can be hard for me to push myself to do things just for me, but it is easy and fulfilling to work hard for my partners, especially when facing the evidence of their hard work.
So, we did it! We each on our own made the work for the show, occasionally meeting to check in and edit each other. In the couple weeks leading up to install I also started inviting people into my studio/bedroom to get their thoughts on the entire body of soft sculptures that I have been working on since February. (This was fun! and probably the subject for a whole different post.) Then, the week of the opening we spent three sweltering days in un-a-conned Colab installing in a mood of mania, glee, discovery and contemplation. I wove a giant red web from the rafters into the space and suspended my sculptures in the netting. The webs and sculptures were anchored into two large wooden spools that Aldo helped me make. The whole process of becoming more physical with my art, using big saws and pneumatic tools in the wood shop and running up and down a ladder while weaving my whole body through red strings, not to mention taking entire days to do nothing but construct it, made me realize all over again how much I love being an "artist." I say this because I have fallen into the role of gallery worker, cataloger, coordinator, of ardent fan, champion, helper and sometimes junior-curator - all great ways to be involved in art, but I should remind myself that "artist" makes me feel the most that I am doing what I should.
The opening (and only night the show was on view) went wonderfully. I was overwhelmed by the number of people that came to see the installation, to support us and to talk to us. Again, I feel so lucky to be a part of the Austin art community and to have such nice friends who were willing to make the trek over to a little, literal hot-spot on the east side of town during a month when the temperatures were in the 100s every day. The response and feedback were great. You can see photos from the night and a few installation shots
here.
a snippet of the installation
the happy artists (polaroid taken by Zoe)
After Cat's Cradle was over I got a little of the post-show blues. We had accomplished what we set out to do, it was my biggest goal for the summer, and in the void after that going back to my life as usual seemed a little dull. On top of relinquishing the fun and constant companionship of our art playtime, I also had to face up to the nasty summer cold that I had caught and been in denial about the week of installation. The very next weekend was also the date of my grandfather's wedding in Dallas, which was a very important event psychologically for my little family unit and a big deal to me, as I have always been a grandpa's girl. In addition to all the ways that he has shown me to be (slow and methodical, jovial, intellectually curious), my grandfather has taught me to live for the present, and how to have a generous spirit that reaches out to many friends while keeping what is most special for those who are closest. To see him get married and be so full of love and happiness was daunting in a way. THERE, he seemed to say, don't stop living for a minute. My new found torpor was brought into sharp contrast, and I didn't know any better what I was or wasn't doing with my life.
And I guess there's no real way for me to get an exact grip on the future because I dislike living on a plan. Plus, over-analyzing my schemes and dreams is not exactly what loving the present is all about. What I have concluded after giving it much thought is that I need to stay proactive. I want to travel more and find residencies that will help me do that. I want to look more intently towards graduate school and a career in teaching because ultimately I don't think I can resist the soft warm embrace of academia. I have to admit it to myself: I love school. Also, I would love to teach art. In the meantime I should recognize that where I am now and being a part of Domy is great, and I should embrace it just as much as I did when I started.
So, I am hopeful that my month of taking a break from my own art is over, and I am ready to resume the level of activity in general that keeps me humming. Over and out.
After successfully completing my installation for the "Closet Box" gallery at Box 13, I am on to the next project and a fresh series of soft sculptures. These will be based off of drawings that I made over the summer of furry monsters in cages. My friend Katie Geha liked them enough to give me a show at her gallery SOFA in March! In addition to working with some new ideas and forms, I have started including wire in these with the intention of developing a stop motion animation. My heart is truly a-flutter at the prospect.
