Art & Process

New Painting

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I have been working like molasses. The art is coming out so slow it seems. I am still not in any kind of “swing” and especially not the same swing I was in before I moved. Working at home is something I used to do, so you’d think I would adjust after 6 whole months of settling in, but it’s just not the same. Using both my office and garage space is a bit strange. It’s cramped, and I don’t want to make any kind of mess in a place I only rent. Not that I’m a big mess maker anyway, but a wet brush flying around is never a good thing, especially around all my completed work a few inches away. I miss having at least one clean white wall with ample space around it to create larger pieces.

That being said, here is another piece I did in my office that is just 30 x 30 inches. It seems to look good with Eve’s Dilemma. I call it Head in the Soul (for now), which comes from the meaning of shin in the earliest extant book on Jewish esotericism. It’s done in oil, pattern paper, pencil and thread on canvas. The shin is stitched with black and white thread through the pattern paper, and the black & red bugs are embroidered.

Many people like to read what I write in my work, and I must say that I never mean it to be read so overtly. It is supposed to be part of the whole painting, but I can not control the viewer, nor do I ever want to. But for those of you that need to know what it says:

What words can not say:

My essence discarded,

lost in chemicals,

numb to embedded grains of dust.

Spirit bugs invade my skill

is hollow.

Buried, my hand disconnects from the magic tragedy

and creativity slowly leaks from my gut like molasses.

Hey, don’t ask why this stuff comes out of me.

I started working on a bigger piece the other day. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and wanted to incorporate my Laplandic ancestory, likened to a genetic memory. It will be mostly white with some tiny reindeer and little lavvus (which is what the Saami people call the dwellings that look like teepees.) I should probably call that one, “I Bet You Never Heard of a Jewish Reindeer Herder, Did ya?” or something along that line. I just hope that one turns out remotely close to how I envision it. These last 2 canvases started with a pretty vague composition, while the rest of it just happened as I went along. I guess that is something I should embrace, since over-thinking art is just profoundly overrated. It’s a fine line between instinct and plan. I’m always looking for that perfect balance between the two. I’ll let you know when I find it.

Oooh Baby

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The other day I got to visit artist Baby Smith in her lovely home studio. I was blown away at seeing all the goooorgeeeeous groupings of her collages all under one (or 2) roofs. It was like being in a candy shoppe, or chocolate factory, just some kind of heaven. To put it simply,  her work rocks! She is such a sweetie pie too. So pretty, and sweet. You’d think I”d has me a little crush. You’d be right. 🙂

“shift no. 22,” 2008 by Baby Smith. Found objects on board, 27″x27″x4″ 

Out of Reach

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My new prints are here! I finished signing them this past weekend while hanging out with Gina Stepaniuk, who was there at SHG working on her first acetates. Her print is going to be soooo amazing. I just know it. She brought in the original painting, which I’ve seen before, but it reminded me of what an incredible painter she is. She is right now working on her MFA at Claremont and it doesn’t sound fun to me, but she is one strong cookie.

So here is not the greatest picture of my print entitled, “Out of Reach.” It is a 7-color, 22 x 26 inch screen print. The edition is 75:

Upon signing and pulling my prints, I found out that the 10-artist suite is going into some pretty prominent collections, like LACMA and the Mexican Museum in Chicago. Neither me or Gina are Latina so it’s a little bit strange, but I’ll take it where I can get it. Each woman also gets the whole suite too, so that is the icing on the cake, I’ll tell ya. There is going to be a big kick-off show of the prints at Self Help Graphics sometime in June, and possibly elsewhere that Yolanda will cook up. I am still just so grateful for this fabulous opportunity.

The prints can’t be sold until June, but I am taking pre-sale orders if you’re interested.

Coincidentally, I finally got my Blogger Killings print completed. It took a long time to get them to look right, but they look amazing and maybe even better than the originals. It’s a smaller edition at the same price as the silk screen, as they are high quality, archival digital prints. Those are for sale now, so order one for your office and scare your co-workers:

I just packed up all the work for the “Bookish” show in Seattle and FedExed it on out of here. I’m still thinking if I will be going to the opening. It might be an expense I can’t do this month, but if you are in Seattle, the opening is Thursday, April 10th from 5:00 to 8:00 PM.

I Heart Chicken Dog

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I had a dream that we had a chicken dog as well as my real dog Buddy. The chicken dog was part rooster and part Border Collie. He had only 2 feet, like chicken legs, but with fur, and he also had the rooster’s weird, wobbly red stuff on his head and under his chin. It was the weirdest thing you ever saw, but I loved him. He was running around the neighborhood, unloved and laughed at. People were afraid to go near him, so he lived like a homeless person, finding refuge and places to sleep in hidden areas of people’s yards and behind restaurants and bars. We wanted him to sleep in the house with us, but like a chicken, he was very hard to catch. I was finally able to catch him as he was running through the front yards on my block. He was very sweet and cuddly, so we took him into our family, and people thought we were super strange.

Meanwhile, in another dream, my mother finally left my father and became roommates with my friend and artist Jennifer Celio in a downtown loft apartment. My mother called me complaining about the smell of turpentine and varnish (both in which Jennifer doesn’t even use in real life). She said that Jen played her music too loud and wished there was something she could do about the situation. So I had to pep talk her into actually saying something about it – very similar to a conversation we would really have. At some point in time (in real life) my mom stopped saying what she thought and instead sat on it silently, racking up resentment and anger, much of it towards herself for not being strong enough to say anything, which then lead to more depression and self-deprecation. …Oh, like mother, like daughter.

Dreams are fucking weird.

In real life, I had the spinal tap that I was putting off for 8 years. That is a long-ass time. I was so scared of it, you have no idea! But I got through it. I feel pretty sore today and I have the infamous headache they speak about. Laying down flat is the only cure, and tons of caffeine, which makes it so I don’t want to lay down at all! So instead, I built this new blog for Picklebird. I guess I heart Picklebird and Chickendog.

Also, the new Coagula is now out, so please pick up a copy at your local gallery and read the review I wrote about Rochelle Botello.