Pneumonia Redux

It’s down to the wire. I have too much going on for my pneumonia to be relapsing, but here it is. Second time in a year, second relapse in a three week span. This happened back in February to March. Now again this last month. The relapse is not as bad as the first two weeks of this shit, but I am still suffering from a rattling cough, constant need for sleep, body aches and a light fever. I’m about to start a second round of antibiotics today.

And I don’t have time for this! I have way too much to do! I have all kinds of shit going on that I need to tend to. My Kickstarter project was funded successfully and I just ordered all the glass flasks for the specimens. I have created the new website for the project, although it’s not fully completed. Now I have to thank and send out all the rewards to my donors. There were 33 in total. I just ordered a set of some very nice Thank You cards that should come this next week. I will be writing nine personal thank yous. Some people will get original art that I have yet to make, and some that I’ve already made. I have a lot of work to do and a lot of mailing to do. Then I have to start putting those specimens inside the beakers and tag them all, but I can do that at a slow pace as they are sold…

What I really need to get finished is all the work for my UCLA show, Bioillogical, which installs on the 9th of January! This is going to be at the Geffen Learning Center at UCLA Medical Center in Westwood. It’s a solo show about my illnesses and also made up biological craziness. I have all the work completed, sans three pieces. One is a 30 x 40 inch oil painting that is taking a while and I’m only about 1/4 completed on it. It has some yellow in it that I just laid down on Thursday. You oil painters know about yellow! Some of it is rather thick too. I brought it inside the house to work on because there is more heat in here than in my garage studio, so I hope that helps it to surface dry by installation day.

The other two pieces are pretty much cake. One is a super small gouache. I can knock that out in an hour or so. The last one is an 18 x 11 inch piece that is not exactly a painting at all, but a kind of hand-written piece with a small illustration on it. It is a kind of make-shift patient exam for clinical Multiple Sclerosis, but I’m putting it on a Style Card that is used in pattern making.

THEN, I have to work out what the hell I’m going to say on Sunday, December 18th at the Palos Verdes Art Center for my book presentation and poetry reading! How the hell did I get myself into that one? I blame Edie Abeyta. Don’t get me wrong, I love her. She asked me to do it and I said, “okay!” like a fool. It’s probably good for me to do it and it’s good exposure for my book works, but I’ve never read any of my poems out loud to a group of people… Shit, the more I think about it, the more crazy nervous I become. Stop making me think about it! The “performance” is called A Book in the Hand and it starts at 2 PM. Please don’t come.

I’m also being interviewed by Mat Gleason – on camera – for a webisode he’s doing. I’ll be doing the interview next Friday, so I better not be sick. I don’t know when it will air, but it will be on the internets for all to see my fat ass.

So I have four pages of “stuff to do” before I go out to Joshua Tree for Xmas. I have not “celebrated” this holiday in many years. I’m a Jew you see. But when I was a young teen, I found my own self-made family where I had very very special Xmases that I will never forget. these were some of my best and dearest memories of my entire life. Now, Tracey, my friend who made those times possible, lives in Joshua Tree. I will be seeing her for this holiday after not spending it with her in over 20 years.

Yeah, I better not be sick.

Slow Chip

Spencer the dog never worked out. He was too wired up and crazy for my border collie and liked to jump four feet off the ground a lot. They just didn’t get on too well and I opted not to get him, which is fine. I need a dog that is going to get along with Buddy well since Buddy doesn’t have much time left. He’s over 12 years old now and I want him to enjoy his last years, not just endure them.

I’ve been in Joshua Tree for the last week and it was great as usual. It rained one of the days I was out there and the smells are just fantastic. There’s nothing like it. I also met some new people and they are very special and I hope to hang out with them again next time I go out, which will probably be around the holidays.

I am still working on Bioillogical, my show at UCLA Medical Center. It’s been slow-going. I have a couple of peeks here, but I don’t have much to show yet. Even if I had more, I’m saving it for the show. I also have an illustration to do for Alligator Stew, a small press that has accepted one of my poems and asked me to illustrate a poem by another writer for their next publication.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’M STILL TIRED! I have many ideas and plans swimming around in my head. I’m inspired and all that, I just don’t have the physical energy to get it all done. It really pisses me off.

As for the novel, I’m at 60,000 words. I’ve turned 9. My family just bought the house that they hold onto the longest in North Hollywood. This is where a lot of shit happens, not that a lot of fucked up shit hasn’t already. I moved about a dozen times already before this point between three states. My parents have separated four times – and I’m NINE! Luckily, it doesn’t happen again, but that doesn’t mean I wish I would. Good thing I get out of there five years from this time… Damn, I have so much more to write….

SLOTH

I’m going to come clean. The last week or two I have really haven’t done anything. I have made one drawing and have worked on my book very little. Last weekend I was at a resort with my best friend for her birthday, and the rest of the time I have been meaning to clean my house, but I haven’t. I have been mostly sleeping because I am dealing with CRUSHING FATIGUE!

I deal with a lot of fatigue anyway, but lately it is getting worse and worse. Can I just complain a little here? I am so sick of it! It makes me feel like an unaccomplished loser. Meanwhile, my mind is swelling with ideas and I can’t execute any of them. I physically don’t have the motivation. I’m lucky if I can do some dishes, then I have to lay down again. I’m good for sitting down and writing a bit, but that’s about it. I’m now about 40,000 words into my rough draft of the book. I tinker with it pretty often, but I can only write a little under 1000 words a sitting.

Never have I fully disclosed what is fully wrong with me. I have been conflicted about it for so many years for so many reasons. I don’t want to be the artist with a disability. I don’t want people to treat me differently, because they have. I also have issues with thinking that people wouldn’t believe all that is going on because it’s kind of a lot. I also don’t want to appear like I am kavetching or whining.

If you are seen with/in some kind a apparatus, like a wheelchair, people will define you as such. It’s just the way it is. There are times when I need such things and have met people, then met the same people when I was without the chair and they do not remember having hours long conversations with me before. It really sucks.

I have Relapsing-Remitting Multiple Sclerosis and Lupus. To boot, I also have Ulcerative Colitis. If that’s not enough for you, I have Bipolar disorder. Isn’t that peachy? Maybe you think “No wonder you’re tired!” but I don’t give myself much of a break because I’ve had most of these things for years and have managed to produce a LOT of art and exhibit in many shows. I am only 43. Why am I now getting so very very tired? I have too many ideas to have this happening right now. I just hope this isn’t the beginning of some relapse. I’ve been in remission for some time. But remission is not all it’s chalked up to be. It’s not like everything is 100% in working order. You never bounce back to your “normal.” You’re always left with residual and daily pain, ups and downs and “Hi, how are ya! I’m a new symptom, pleased to meet ya!”

There’s arthritis, electrical pain, weakness, dizziness, headaches, fatigue, tremors, buzzing, vision problems, depression, stupidity and brain fog, memory lapses, rashes, and pee issues you don’t want to know about. I don’t complain all that much about it, considering, and never to friends, but today, I just feeling like punching a hole in the wall. That is, if I had the fucking energy.

The Meaningless Thoughts of an Artist

I frequent a lot of online art forums. I am crazy. I sort of salivate over an anonymous community of other artists and want to bond with them. Just not in real life. Keep it on the internet where I don’t have to have any real human interaction. Sometimes I wonder if I’m looking for kin. I never really find any. Maybe then I’d want to know them personally. I find it extremely surprising what viewpoints I discover from all the other artists out there in the world. I really do. I have strange expectations I suppose. I would think we would have far more in common than we would not, but that isn’t so. It’s not good to have expectations of anyone really. That sets you up for disappointments. I know this fact, so I really try hard not to have any expectations for any sort of life on Earth.

The general subject of dreams, images and self-expression came up somewhere and someone made an obvious point about the differences in art and mere self expression. He said, “It would seem to me that ART is something more than mere expression of self-expression. ART involves an expression which has taken a special form… employing some consideration of the aesthetic. A baby crying because he is hungry is expressing himself… but it’s not ART. A drunk in the bar who punches another drunk in the face because he said something about his girlfriend is expressing himself as well… but ART? No. A group a teenagers who fly past you on the highway screaming profanities and mooning you are also expressing themselves… but again this is not ART. Art can involve elements that are ugly, elements of the horrific, elements of the seemingly crude… as well as the skillful, polished and beautiful. Ultimately, ART employs a visual language in a manner that goes beyond mere self-expression. Art also presumes an audience who is in agreement that a given work is art. I can create something that I imagine expresses the most deeply felt and profound meanings, but if it doesn’t resonate with an audience… if others don’t recognize my efforts as art… then I’m merely fooling myself.”

While most of this is obvious, it could become an interesting conversation if this person wasn’t such a hard ass, as I’ve come to know his personality. I agree with what he says here, but not 100% because I do think you can punch someone in a bar as a form of art. And more specifically, personally, art for art sake/art therapy, and the like, who it resonates with, when mundane art can get to be “bad” art, or when very personal art can become work that comes to resonate very well with audiences – all this gets very interesting.

For instance, I agree very much on allowing the audience to interpret the work fully. My work is VERY personal and while I am making it, it borders on art therapy. But the finished product happens to resonate with my audience (in most cases). Only if asked will I disclose personal factors about the work because I think it’s important to allow the viewer their own interpretation. I feel that once the work is completed, it really isn’t mine anymore, or rather, it has a new phase in its life with a new relationship(s). My personal relationship with the work has past. Its new life begins once it is displayed on a gallery wall. It is no longer any kind of therapy. It can’t be. And I really can’t tell viewers of my attachments to these pieces either. My work becomes a public piece. It everybody’s art, not just mine.

And does art have to have an audience? I think that might be commerce he’s talking about. There is art for art sake. That’s still art even if you as the artist are the only audience. Creator and viewer in one: you still count if you were moved. The moved Prime Mover, I guess you’d be. Biased as hell, but it still counts I think. Henry Darger NEVER intended for any of his work to be seen by another human being. Did he need someone else to call it art before it was art? No.

Okay, then there was this other subject of beauty and aesthetics, and if it even matters.

I was so on the fence about that. When I started reading about it, I was do depressed at the moment. I wrote:

Sometimes I wonder if beauty matters in the contemporary art world. Maybe tonight I am feeling beaten down, sad, depressed, or something like that. It just seems like “clever” always wins. Shock, clever, ironic, kitsch, lowbrow/comic illustration, little girls with big eyes and what appears to be Encephalitis or Achondrogenesis, altercations on Ren and Stimpy, etc, etc, ad nauseum…

WTF? I looked back the next night and thought I must have been pretty damn low that night. But the subject ended up taking a turn anyway to beauty, aesthetics and the difference between that and the sublime, and suddenly, everyone is bashing Andy Warhol. Now I am not a giant Warhol fan, but come on. He did something that turned contemporary art on its head just a little now. Give the guy some props. No, they wouldn’t be having it. A half a dozen people were calling him a moron. They were taking quotes out of his journal and actually thinking he was sincere when he wrote things like:

“I never think that people die. They just go to department stores.”

Ha!

I think there are a lot of differences between beauty, the sublime, aesthetics, and what is and isn’t art. There’s are a lot of personal fucking opinions of the viewers that gauge each. I don’t think it is something any one of us can make one blanket statement about and be right on the money. There are a lot of factors and a lot of “depends” in regards to each piece of artwork being discussed. In general terms, does beauty matter? Yes, I suppose it does. I think of it from the perspective of a collector and I buy what is beautiful to me. It might not be sublime to some people. It might have imperfections, which to me makes it aesthetic to me, but that’s how I like the work I hang in my house. I like the raw, the handmade, the honest and the primal stuff. To me this is beautiful and the more pure it is, the more sublime. It just surprises me how many conservative traditionalists are out there. I guess I just expected more from artists, no matter what they create.

I just felt like rambling. Good night.

2011 And All is Quiet

Already the 13th and here we are. It’s going by fast, but everything seems slow. How can that be, Carol? How? I don’t know Skippy! I don’t create the universe. I only create my own. Maybe I’m not doing a very good job at it the past few weeks, I’m not sure, but things are just not as exciting as your typical log ride at an amusement park lately. I have been tinkering with one single painting for over a week and a half and it’s only 16 x 20 inches. It’s not detailed or anything, I’m just not working on it every day or for many hours.

I did take a few days off and went to Las Vegas. It was Michael’s mother’s 70th birthday celebration and practically the entire family was there from all over the country. We saw Cirque’s LOVE: the one that goes to the Beatles music. Visually it was really beautiful. And, of course, the music was great. Cirque-wise I have to say I was slightly disappointed. I’ve seen quite a few of their shows now and I’ve come to expect a certain type of amazement that didn’t come with this particular show. There were moments of it, yes, but I wasn’t as blown away as I usually am with their other shows when it comes to their acrobatics. There was just too much dancing. Lots and lots of dancing. It bordered on, or rather, it made me start thinking about a Broadway show in some moments. That’s just not my thing. I trusted both parties here. Not that I feel ripped off or anything. It was still worth the money. I’m just a little disappointed is all. I can still say there were moments that were absolutely breathtaking. There was a great display for Octopus’ Garden and Lucy in the Sky. Some aspects of John Lennon’s life were also incorporated and at one point I cried a little.

That was the highlight of Vegas, aside from seeing family of course. I gambled a little. Not much. Lost what I brought to play with, won a little on the horses. Lost the rest. Most disappointing about Vegas: no Slap Jack tables!