And at least I got myself back into the studio this week. I can’t believe it myself. I’m not even sure it counts yet. What that (“counts”) means exactly, I don’t even know! But getting back into a studio that’s really a garage isn’t a simple task. It’s work.
For one thing, I hadn’t exactly put everything away since my last show. Even though everything was nicely wrapped, most of it was still sitting on table tops or leaned against whatever stable thing I could find. I figured I’d put it away tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow…
When I was making my last Artist’s book (The Spark), I made most of it in the house. It was just too hot to go into the garage, er uh, I mean studio. I was also “finishing” up my book too, ya know? I made that announcement and everything, so I guess it was official. (Ha.) So by the time I got back out there, my god, was it a mess of cobwebs and dust. Gah! I spent a day just getting rid of (some of) that shit and putting everything away. I think it wasn’t until this last Friday when I was finally able to draw one of the few compositions I’d had here in the plans onto a canvas. Thank god that was done by noon, because I really needed to sit down. I’ve been having some trouble with my gait, or my head, or something. It’s some bullshit is what it is. It’s a feeling I had some years ago and it’s been back for about a week. With the feeling comes drunken klutz syndrome: falling, tripping, bumping into shit.
Trying to ignore it, I started that painting I’d been planning for god knows how long while I debated on whether I wanted to make it into a diptych. I guess I never mentioned that part–about adding a left side? Sorry. It’s because it’s so personal. I mean, ha! I’m pretty personal as it is on this blog, but no one knows by what degree, you know? People may think they can see you, but not really.
I decide to add the left side (above mock-up), otherwise it’ll look somewhat like this:
Adding the left panel is scary, as it’s an entry straight out of my extremely personal eye-book. The right side is the visual and the left side is the writing portion of the exercise. It can be like therapy, though it’s to hone certain drawing skills. In any case, it’s like putting my raw self out there and that is pretty frightening.
Instead of doing any more painting on the right side canvas, I wound up dragging that old easel–that hasn’t any wheels–across the rubber floor, dust it down, level it and prep another canvas.
Not much paint to canvas yet, but it’s better than nothing at all.
In other news, maybe disappointing to some, though I don’t rightly care because it is what it is; I’ve decided that I will be making another last edit of my book, but only after a sincere break from it. I know it sound like I’m a nut job at this point (I already knew that), but I have my reasons. And I will, of course, share these reasons on my writing blog because everybody knows how much I love, love love to talk about myself.
There was something else I was going to say, but now I forgot. Oh well.