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!

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.