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!

What Did You Do Today?

MJP and I moved my studio today. And now I can’t move a muscle. My achin’ back. Ow, ooh, ouch, and all that. I’m not the girl I used to be.

Now that that is done, there is a giant easel in my livingroom, because it will not fit in my garage. Somebody buy it please.

Up until today, I have been moving all the small stuff carload by carload while getting all the work completed for Goodbye Mrs. Beasley, which is finally done. Now I’m back to working on It’s Mostly About Me and Much Less About You. Back on track, but lots and lots to do. I have everything mapped out to do in 80 days, but can I do it is the question. It’s the stitchery that takes forever.

I am excited about going to Nashville. I am only going to be there for the weekend of the opening, but I really look forward to it – and some southern hospitality. There really aren’t people around these here parts like there are in the south. It’s damn refreshing.

Oh my, I really can’t get up from this chair. I am so wiped out, I can’t believe it. Someone get me some heavy duty pain killers and a stiff drink.

Rubber Soul

Renovation is almost complete on the new home studio, and the place I am now calling, “Rubber Soul.” I’ve run into a few major problems, but I’m solving them by throwing money at them. Not something I’m in the position to do, but I didn’t have a choice.

tiles

One of the biggest problems I ran into: my easel. My pretty much brand new David Sorg easel will not even fit under the garage doors at its lowest setting, let alone under the very low ceiling I am going to be working under – and there is nothing I can do about it. I’m forced to sell it and get something else. I’m waiting for the new one to arrive, and while it cost me a lot more than I would have liked, I’m actually very excited about it because not only is it a lot shorter, but it also adjusts completely flat. That’s a nice perk, I must say, especially since I just started a 9 foot wide piece and had to work on it on the floor and nearly busted my knees on the cement floor sticking the pattern paper to it. Even if I had to do it again in Rubber Soul, there is a rubber floor and I won’t ever hurt my knees like that again. Standing is going to be a bit better too. I put the rubber floor in because there are so many uneven cracks in the cement floor in the garage, this kind of evened things out. A problem solved if you will.

motherwellode2

I am moving 350 square feet into 230 that has stuff already in it. A problem I can’t solve by throwing money at it. It’s a problem I have to solve by getting rid of stuff and simplifying. This is something I want to do, I just don’t know how to do it before August. And how do do this, pack, and move without really interrupting my work flow? You tell me. I’m trying to work from both places right now and take a little bit home with me as I go back and forth so as to not make the move so bad. Where I am going to store all the blank canvases and panels is my biggest problem.

Anyway, anyone want to buy a slightly used Sorg?

That’s about it for now.

Clever Art, Timeless?

Hi everybody. I feel like I haven’t written in this blog about anything truly art-related in a long time. I don’t know why that is exactly. A mixture of depression/hibernation and fear, or perhaps indifference, laziness, forgetfulness and lack of passion. My passion has been redirected, rather. I used to bring my ideas out on my blog a lot. That’s what it was for. I’d keep track of my ideas and the art world in general. I had a lot of readers too. Now, not so much. I also had the feed piping through my Facebook page and it took me forever to figure out how to stop that. I found it just censored everything I really wanted to say, or I’d cringe after every blog entry, realizing it was feeding its way through Facebook. I don’t know why; it just made me throw up a little. Perhaps because I am too personal here and the mix of people of Facebook are just not exactly the right mix. I think if someone wants to read this blog, they should just come here and read it. They can read every word, or they can skim it. They can comment, disagree, laugh it off, shrug, roll their eyes, relate, kill time, or whatever they want and I don’t need to know who they are for the most part.

Anyway, today I was just checking in on the West Collection/Prize entrants, because I am one of them. They are going to post the 10 winners at the end of next week and I wanted to see what I was up against. There is a rating system where anyone can click on up to 5 stars for each artist. Most decent work has received 3 stars, and so I was digging deep to see who got the 4 and 5 ratings, trying to understand WHY. Not that the artists with these higher rating did not deserve higher ratings, but it got me thinking about a subject that I don’t usually seen brought up very often, but think about all the time: Aesthetics vs. Cleverness.

If I had the readers I used to have, I would love to open this up for a giant dialog, but alas, I have become a big nobody in the artblog world. My own fault really. I neglected it all for so long/shut down for a long spell a year or so ago, and lost most of  my visitors. I probably have 10 readers now, if that. Still, doesn’t mean I can’t kvetch.

I don’t just make art, I buy and collect art. I’d like to think I have a pretty great collection, well on my way to being a quite serious one. For me anyway, while I can appreciate the kitsch and the cleverness of contemporary art, I sure don’t want to collect it for the long term. So, I don’t understand why it gets so much more attention out there than something that is much more desirable to live with. I have nothing against it, and in fact I think it’s smart to incorporate it just a touch, but not enough to exceed beauty. Why has beauty in art become a tainted, cheesy word? Is art art anymore – that thing that moves your soul (as goofy as that sounds), or is art all about trumping art history and being the next sensationalist? What sort of artistic  item would you rather treasure in your life for the next generation?

Maybe it’s about knowing what is and isn’t timeless, like a good song that won’t ever go out of style. One that doesn’t sound like all the other “new” songs. There is something about traditionalism, but it needs a very good helping of originality, and maybe above all that, it must have honesty. Those are the things I am drawn to when I buy something to have in my home that I plan to keep for the rest of my life, whatever the medium.

So I guess this has just been on my mind a lot. The artists that get a lot more attention are ones that are doing something a little weird, a little crazy, quite clever and sensational, shocking, odd, so-simple-it’s-funny, ironic, kitsch, recycled vintage, anti-art, or just plan bad for the sake of it being bad on purpose. Not ALL of them, but a lot. It doesn’t make me angry or anything actually (if I sound mad about it, I’m not really). I think it’s curious and I only wonder if I am the weird one for still appreciating a beautiful painting.