Ayin Es

Rainbow Country

April 22, 2013April 22, 2013Ayin Es1 Comment

I have not been working on my book for a long, long time. It’s so hard to juggle all that I have, but I’m not taking on any new shows for a while, so I hope that I can dedicate some time to my writing when I’m done with these eight paintings

Shrapnel in the San Fernando Valley, as it it is called for now – and I don’t foresee changing it – has been the toughest project I have probably ever had to do. I am reliving all the parts of my life – all the hardest parts of my life. Sure, I will be editing out the boring, the non-pertinent, the lengthy rants that are similar to my blog (because in using anything like those, they won’t necessarily be to promote, protect or to entertain), but the rough draft inevitably needs to be written. I’m living through all of it just the same.

It is much harder to remember it and write it out than it was to experience it at the time. Doesn’t seem possible, right? But when you are going through a traumatic event, you go into survival mode. We all do. We dissociate to some degree, or we find a way endure it. We have to. Then we move on. Because we have to. And in moving on, we most likely do not think about it. That just works wonders.

Diving in and out of this book is bitter sweet. I like writing about the first time the light bulb went off for me in terms of art, music, love, friendship, independence, and stuff like that thar. I’ve been writing pretty much in chronological order, so knowing that something horrible is coming up, just makes me avoid getting back to a writing session.

I wish it was done, really. I’m 75-80% finished with the rough draft. That is far from done. That is bare bones stuff. I have never written a book before. I know nothing about how it’s done. I only know how I am going to do it before I hand it off to the editor. She might change everything, but I know exactly how I am going to structure the thing – section by section, chapter by chapter, because sometimes the helicopter flies high over miles of mountain ranges. Sometimes, it flies lower and circles around a camp. And many times it will land so the pilot can get out to get a really good look at the dirt.

Some future problems with this thing that I needlessly worry about are:

SUBJECT: What the hell is this? A memoir? Autobiography? Creative non-fiction, Artist memoir? Family memoir? Music biography? Women’s biography? Religious biography? Dark humor – non-fiction, …and HOLY SHIT! I’m sorry. I was just reading something that I did not realize on Barnes and Noble. Is this true? Someone please tell me if I am misunderstanding this:

Is PUSH fiction???? It is filed under fiction. I’m having a heart attack! I did NOT know that!

I am totally baffled now. I will be back when I get my head on straight. I am just….baffled. I can’t finish this blog entry right now. Sorry.

7:16 PM Okay, I am back now. I’m over it. I painted. I got some stuff done. I made decisions. I feel better. Fuck it.

When I read The Color Purple, I was well aware of Alice Walker. I guess I was stupid enough to think that Push was actually written by a young, illiterate girl who experienced these things and still on her way to becoming educated despite being such a young, single mother.

Now, both books do not lie. I am not mad that it is fiction, because it is not a fictitious story. My mind was just blown, that’s all.

All this time, I have been somewhat modeling, or rather just thinking about where my book belongs in terms of Push. That book was giving me courage to tell my story! I figured it would be, if published, close together on the shelf in the bookstore. I felt like, if people accepted her story

and believed it

and still loved her

maybe I had a chance of receiving the same reaction.

ANOTHER Change of Plans

April 14, 2013April 15, 2013Ayin Es4 Comments

Ha ha ha! What did I call the last blog post? Change of Plans: No More Seven or Eight? I find that funny. Because I have changed my plans yet again! Call me crazy. Actually, no don’t. Don’t call me crazy. That would seriously offend me.

Not only will there be a seven and eight, there will be a nine and a ten and a so forth. The numbers will keep going up if you know how to count.

Number 3:

Red Scarf, 2013. Oil and pencil on birch panel.

I don’t care about size. (Who said women care about size?) I don’t care about price. I don’t care about rules or regulations.

When I was a kid, my grandfather – well, he wasn’t really my grandfather – he was just Jack, my Nana’s 20th husband or something like that. He was a genuine Fuller Brush man, but that’s besides the point.

He used to come over to my house and grill me about how I should make a neat and tidy list of “RULES ANS REGULATIONS” and stick it on our refrigerator. I’ve probably mentioned this before. But it’s because it’s so ingrained into my head. Even the sound of his scratchy voice and Brooklyn accent, “Ya have to follow those rules and regulations so you know how to behave!” And all this because the fucking television was on in the living room when he came over for Thanksgiving one year.

It was probably on so we didn’t have to hear him bitch and moan.

So, as usual, I digress.

I have spent the last five days going over this whole idea of rules and regulations, about galleries, the economy, painting smaller, and pricing. Other people’s opinions, the “art world,” the supposed tos, and all that crap. Even the opinions of real people in your life that actually do matter, like the people I love – even they don’t even matter! Sounds harsh, but when it comes to your art work, YOU have to love it. If your mom hates it, too bad. And that goes for your boyfriend too.

I feel like I looked at all this shit from every angle until each element turned into a piece of fruit. Yes, I said fruit. Why? Because I have been eating a lot of fruit these past few months, and I have lost 25 pounds by the way. (Yaye. No one has noticed.)

So I chopped all this fruit up on a cutting board and slid it into a giant watermelon bowl (as seen below) and tossed it with some really nice, wooden salad tongs I got in a little, off-the-beaten path town in Italy that you will never find.

Then I served up this very interesting fruit-salad-of-art-quandary to both myself and my very opinionated boyfriend and… it tasted like shit!

It was so bad, we both could not eat it. I had to put the entire thing into the garbage disposal. Bye bye.

So I had to go fruit shopping, by myself, cut everything up, by myself, and eat it by myself.

The metaphor here means absolutely nothing – so stop trying to figure it out. I’m off the fruit thing.

Starting Saturday, I went through my entire database and repriced all my work, raising the prices for aaaallll the increments that were missed over the past six years — after I did the print residency at Self Help Graphics, which put me into almost a dozen international museum collections. Then, when won the Pollock-Krasner Award, landed a fourth, upscale gallery in Nashville and had two solo shows there. I had another important solo show at UCLA Hillel, and won two more grants from the California Arts Council, and most recently at the Artists’ Fellowship in New York. Not to mention had my hand painted book, All Done But None purchased for the National Museum of Women in the Arts collection in Washington, DC and UC Irvine. Plus, I had more of my Artists’ books purchased by The Brooklyn Museum, , Otis, UCLA, and a half a dozen private collections (both books and original paintings).

Never were my prices raised.

So at this point, to be shy about a crappy economy, taking financial and/or aesthetic advice from a gallery I no longer am represented by, or be scared to utilize my larger inventory of blank canvases – it’s all a waste of time time. I’m moving forward with my own gut.

mjp was actually a great motivator on helping me to raise my prices, I have to say. He’s been telling me for years to quadruple+ my prices, but I was too scared. I also wasn’t free to do that either. And as an artist, you can’t go backwards once you do raise your prices, so it is a big risk. However, I have nothing to loose now.

Learning to get Mad not Even

Some people may or may not agree that being mad, at times, is not only healthy, it’s a great motivator.

Well, this has been a lifelong problem for me. I fear “mad.” I fear anger. My own, other people’s, etc.

We all gravitate towards the familiar, so if you’re used to bad habits, of course it’s going to feel odd to make a change. It’s like learning to walk or something, but I’m working on it.

Because all it’s gotten me is depression (turning the anger inward on myself) and rage (stuffing it down and suppressing it).

Sometimes I even wonder if I could deal with these kinds of complex PTSD issues, how much brain chemistry would be left to medicate? The same amount? Very little? None? It makes me think.

So I’ve been working on these “rage letters.” I would never send them out of course. But they are starting to become healing and at the very least, getting me in touch with my anger.

The first ones I wrote, my therapist read them and laughed at them. She said, “This isn’t rage.”

I wrote things like, I am very upset and sad and feel you should take some responsibility for this situation…

I guess that is pretty funny. That doesn’t even sound remotely mad really. It sounds like I was giving the person some sort of option. Ha!

Eventually, I’ve been able to write things more like, “you’re a nasty bitch that deserves life-long baldness and your toenails removed with a rusty pliers…”

So at least I’m getting there.

Okay. Want to see the preliminary sketch for Number 6?

I’m working on Number 4 today. It’s lots and lots of black outlines, so maybe I will take a pic when I’m done with this part of it. We’ll see.

Change of Plans: No More Seven or Eight

April 9, 2013April 10, 2013Ayin EsLeave a comment

No more seven or eight in that grouping of new paintings I’ve been talking about for the last two weeks. Try more like six.

I just took an inventory in my studio, which didn’t take long, because I have plum run out of canvases and panels!

Back in 2009, when I won the Pollock-Krasner award, I stocked up on supplies. I mean I stocked up like there was going to be no tomorrow or a nuclear war or something!

I used most of that money and bought as many art supplies as I could fit in my garage studio – and that was when I knew I’d have a second studio. So I was flush for about four or five years. I’m not joking.

Well, it’s been about four years now – and it’s not like I don’t have anything to paint on. I have a fair amount of big stuff. I could paint out the rest of this year, and probably into half, or more, of 2014. I have a few 34-inch, 36-inch, and up to 60-inch canvases here, but I made a decision a while ago, and that was: paint smaller.

Why?

The hard truth of selling those sizes translates into $4750 to $8250, and last time I looked, there’s been an economic recession for even the upper middle class (well, they seem to say so) since around 2008.

Whether that’s true or not, things like art are not in these God-fearing American’s sights – unless they are tried and true investments. And I know where I stand. I’m not a full-time idiot.

So, for edjumacated purposes, I am keeping my painting sizes at $3K and under. Well, with the minor exception of a few that crack the $4K barrier. Because some ideas require BIGGER SPACE! Ya know what I mean, bean?

Now, if you think that $4k sounds like a lot of money, don’t even make me begin to justify it. Don’t make me compare being an artist to people with “normal” jobs. Please don’t make me talk about how many hours we put in next to the 40-hour-weeker people. Don’t make me give you a slice of reality. Please stop, no, don’t…

Okay, well, usually, if you are lucky enough to have a gallery that represents you, or that will host a show for you, and, you can manage to get your solo show together once a year – that is – if you work at lightening speeds – most exhibits only hang for about four short weeks. You have one month out of the year to bring your buyers to the slaughter.

But the reality: you will have a solo every year and a half to two years, if you have a venue. That’s really about the pace you’d be able to get enough new work completed to exhibit. Because you’re looking at getting together 12-18 pieces in a full rage of sizes and price points.

Now, if you’re going to sell any of these masterpieces, 10 to 1, it will be on the night at the opening reception. I have never understood this personally. Why would someone spend so much money on an impulse buy?

You’d think they’d want to go home and think about it for a while, push a few numbers, take a few measurements, and come back when they’re sure, but that’s not how it works with art.

They are usually afraid someone else might get it before them, so they buy it before someone else gets it and that’s usually the frenzy of the opening night, and it’s usually between the early part of the night and the height to the evening. Not when it slows down and people start to say goodbye.

Then, when you do sell, 50% of any sales you make go to the gallery that so graciously lent you their walls. You also have to split, but not always, any advertising you did for the exhibit, wine and cheese, etc., and sometimes, but not always, the invitations and stamps.

So let’s say you sold two of your larger pieces at $8K, three of your 30-inch pieces at $4200, and two of your $5K pieces? Provided you were able to make all those in a year’s time, plus a few little ones. Oy! Like you were some kind of Keebler elf! I mean, this would be almost a sell out show! This is pretty damn good! Reason to celebrate. Your peers would be seething in jealousy – yet happy for you too (don’t get me wrong).

But you have only made $17,300 for the whole year before taxes and any Chex Mix fees you have yet to pay back. If you are the main bread winner of your house, let’s hope he or she doesn’t leave you, and good luck — I am really sorry if you have children in this picture.

Personally, I haven’t raised my prices since 2009! Everyone else in this recession has, yet people still balk when they hear any price of any size painting.

Since I left the gallery, I’ve finally been going through some things and I have been slightly pulling down the prices of my larger pieces even more! But I have been pulling the prices of my smaller works on paper UP, slightly. Everything else is the same, more or less.

If some of you thought I was going to slash my prices in half because I left my gallery, you were wrong.

So I will be doing a lot of work on paper after I finish up these last six ideas. Okay, maybe I’ll do seven, but certainly not eight. I just don’t have enough panels.

I LOVE working on paper, so it’s not like it’s a jail sentence. I can’t wait really. I have a ton of paper. I love paper. Paper turns me on baby!

Share and Share Alike

April 6, 2013April 6, 2013Ayin Es3 Comments

All right, so I spend a shit load of time making decisions. So what? These days, it’s a wonder I come to make any at all.

I feel good nowadays when I make a decision. I used to have two kinds of problems before.

Firstly, I used to make descions, but then I’d second guess them the entire time afterwards. Drove me NUTS!

2. I couldn’t make a decision at all. I mean, not to save my life!

I’d fall into some sort of anxiety-ridden hell hole of self-deprecation and head-crushing confusion. And that was so hard to crawl out from.

And still, no decision was never made. (Woamp, woam) <– That’s that stupid music that plays when you don’t get your way. “Loser music!”

Nowadays, I take my time. I make up my mind and I commit to it. If it’s “wrong,” so what? It’s not the end of the world. Or is it? Ahhhhh!

I have decided to stop hoarding the work I have been doing. I feel I should share it. I mean, why hoard it? That’s stupid.

But when would I reveal it? At what opportunity? When will that come? Maybe never. So what the fuck?

I think I was afraid of someone or something coming along and bursting my bubble. I’m really happy with the work I’ve been doing lately, but I’ve been mentally fragile. Knowing this, I’ve been afraid to share my art because it’s the only thing (that is, besides mjp) that is making my life worth living and making me happy, and making me confident.

So, if I’m confident about it. That’s that. If someone wants to come along and shit on it, let them try. I’m probably a lot stronger than I think.

The new “body of work” actually starts at the end of last year, starting with Held by Sheer Willingness. It got a bad review in an art forum I belong to, but so what? It threw me off course a bit, but when it came down to it, I still really love this crazy painting.

The next one:

Ruminant Walk About, 2012. Oil on linen., 20 x 20 inches.

Then,

The Adequacy of And and Not, 2012. Oil on canvas., 34 x 34 inches.

And then the focus started to get really honed in with Runaway Box, one of my favorites:

After that, I had some kind of breakthrough and painted my first piece of 2013:

TOP HALF: In My Dreams, I Fall Apart BOTTOM HALF: Dick Boat with Feet, 2013. Oil and pencil on linen, 30 x 30 inches.

In a recent post I spoke about how some of the new pieces have been coming to me. But a new discovery shows that I did not draw the next one in my drumset sketchbook like I thought I did. I dreamed I did! I just looked through so I could post the first preliminary sketch, and while there are a few similar drawings in there that I drew before I fell asleep that very night I thought I drew it, that one isn’t there. I suppose that is why I drew it again (well, not again) in Photoshop when I returned home.

It’s the first one that I happened to finish on those six panels that I prepped last month:

Spin-flip, 2013. Oil and pencil on birch panel. 24 x 24 inches.

Read about what a Spin-flip is here.

And here is a pic of that sketchbook and a pic of the sketch for the pink painting at least:

The second one is called The Sander. Here is the preliminary sketch:

And here is the painting:

The Sander, 2013. Oil and pencil on canvas, 24 x 24 inches.

Now I am finishing up the third and fourth one and I’ll post them soon. Not so easy to draw them on the panels exactly the way you had them in your sketchbook, but I’m doing my best.

See ya soon!

Two, Third, Seven, Eight

April 1, 2013April 1, 2013Ayin Es2 Comments

I’m just waiting for my camera charge light to turn green and I think I will post the first two pieces of the series of seven? I suppose I’m still on the fence. Still thinking about it. Two are officially finished. The third one had a bit of a glitch in the Matrix, so it won’t be finished until later this week, or even the weekend, so I will be starting the next four this week and perhaps an eighth one will pop into my spaghetti brain. I really wanted to have eight in total before I showed them to anyone. I did, however, show a preliminary drawing on Google+ because that is where I spend all my social media time.

If any of you Facebook peoples wonder where I am, that’s where. Google+. If you aren’t on there yet, you should be. It is taking over Internetland.

So last week I worked, but not as much as I would have liked since I was ill. A different kind of ill if you had been following my entries. I have been feeling much better – with a lot of trepidation – which I suppose is normal. I am just glad I have been feeling better. 🙂

Little things made me appreciate my life. Actually, they usually do, but finishing little parts of the painting I was working on. It is not titled yet, but it has four black ovals. I was filling them in. I started with the edges, where I had to be very careful because they are against the finished birch wood. Just getting the line connected around from one end to the other made me do a happy dance. Filling them in was just icing on the cake. I was celebrating – and this particular painting isn’t even the one I like most. It’s the one I like least probably. Now that it’s all done, I like it pretty good. No feet, but I like it. It reminds me a bit of my 2004 work.

2004 was the year before I was picked up by the gallery, or rather, before they began courting me. It was a long process, yet everything seemed to have happened so fast. It was October and I did a residency at Vermont Studio Center. It was wonderful. Life changing really. I cried when I left to go back home, yet it was such a BIG deal that I even went. Not too long before I went there, I was a shut in.

Not too many people know this about me, but there were a few years where I couldn’t leave the house, drive a car – I mean – I couldn’t even check the mailbox that stood a few steps outside our front door. And at the time, I was in a wheelchair much of the time. It took years of therapy and reading books, and doing panic and phobia workbooks to get out of that mud, little by little. By the time I applied for that residency, I was barely ready for it. mjp had to fly out there with me and sort of set me up before it started so I could get used to the whole idea that I was going to be there for a month by myself without him and fly back alone.

My little secret that no one knew was that I came back a week early (pre-planned) and just didn’t answer my phone or use my computer, but I think my friend Suzan Woodruff knew and left a message about coming with her to meet George and the director at George Billis. It was kind of an important window of opportunity. I wasn’t even looking for a gallery. It fell into my lap, really.

These were the pieces that they ended up taking into inventory at the very end of 2004.

Polar Bearing, 2003. Paper patterns, thread, pins, oil & graphite on canvas, 24 x 24 inches.

Odetostas, 2004. Acrylic, oil and graphite on masonite panel, 20 x 16 inches.

Buffalo Girls, 2004. Acrylic, oil, fabric, pins & graphite on panel, 14 x 11 inches.

Electric Bill, 2004. Paper, acrylic, graphite & oil on canvas, 12 x 12 inches.

But, the ones I was thinking of in regards to the painting I’m talking about are these, which were done at the very wee-end of 2004 after I had a major surgery. Another story for another time.