Spring Newsletter Addendum

Ayin EsLeave a comment

Yesterday, late afternoon, I sent out my Spring Newsletter. It was the first time I ever used Mail Chimp, which is an email marketing/list manager. There were some good things and not so good things about it, but even worse, I was so impatient to send out the letter in the new template, I neither proofread it or edited it!

Now I am mortified.

First of all, in my Google account, my contacts are beautifully organized. I have my Newsletter List: People I know want to receive my seasonal newsletters because they specifically signed up for them, or I personally asked them if they wanted to be on the list – and they agreed. Then I have my SoCal List: Local People I promote to when I am having a significant exhibition in the Los Angeles Area; my Promote List: Galleries and news media that might like to know about a press release that relates to art, particularly mine; No Spam: People that do not want any mail from me unless it is personal; Family: A group of top priority people that are, or might as well be, family; Book Promote: BookArts people that I can promote to when I have a new handmade book to pedal.

But, when I tried to import my Newsletter List into the Monkey Mail, it pulled in every contact I ever had. So, I have annoyed every contact on all my other lists. Shame, shame, SHAME on me!

Now, for the actual writing in the newsletter, WHAT AN EMBARRASSMENT! I probably started three different chains of thought that I never even finished. I just left them floating out in space like some kind of airhead. THEN, there was reference to spin art that I DID edit out, yet I referred to it later in the paragraph, giving the reader no sign or signal as to why I would mention LSD or “spinning,” which only made me look like a complete ding dong!

What I meant to say there was: what if there was an artist that created circular spin splatter paintings, and that was all he did for 20 years? Every day,  he went into his studio and created these paintings that all looked extremely similar to one another and he sold every single one of them for a large amount of money. Enough money to pay for his house, his car, his wife’s, and put his three kids through college. A LOT of money. Do you think he is doing these paintings for himself, the money, the process, his audience, the father that never loved him, some or all of the above?

That was really the question I was posing.

What I didn’t share then afterwards, was my own personal strife, outcome, realization, etc. regarding the same question: Who am I trying to please? And all this time before I recently pondered this question, who was I trying to please?

Wow, so many people other than me. Mostly, the made-up God in my head. Do you have one of those? In psychology it is called the Super Ego. That was usually my problem, and not just with art.

Now, it must be me. Id, id, id, id, id! I want to paint what I want to see. Period. Life is too short to try for anything else. That million dollar idea…what if I didn’t like how it looked? It would probably look stupid. Look at all the other million dollar ideas out there. Would you want that over your fireplace? There are very few I would want to own. I know what I like and I know I can make it, so there it is.

Now, I know there were some other points in that newsletter I forgot to tie up, but I’m starting to get spaced out again. So, until I can just trade my brain in for something better, see you on the flip-flop.

Art and Madness, Jews and Sadness

Ayin Es4 Comments

Let’s see, what the hell have I been doin’ that I can’t write a measly blog post for the last several days? And how can I be tired?

I know I have been painting. I am nearly done with number 6, which is now called, In Training.

 intrainingip

Took a while. Now I have to let that yellow oil paint dry before I can go back in there with the black and tighten up my mistakes. There were plenty.

You saw the black one already (King of This, AKA Number 4), so I can’t use that one as an excuse.  Number 5, Rabbi Says, will take the longest time of all because I am painting around words, but I do not think I have even shown the preliminary drawing for that one – or anything about that one yet. Okay, so here it is so far. It doesn’t look like much yet:

rabbisayaip1

So far I have done the black, the white and the purple. It really doesn’t look very spectacular does it? I have a kind of half sketch/half Photoshop deal. I’ll pull that in…

rabbisays4

That gives a better idea, I mean, without the painterly feel, because I lay the paint on pretty thick. You should see my art in person sometime.

I went through a lot of hemming and hawing with this fucking thing too. The cartoony rabbi, should he be there or not? Should he be there like that or not? I tried numerous alternatives. The rabbi was represented differently: as a black hat on a stick, as a hei, a hei with a hat, with and without peyos (the little curly hairs on the sides of, usually, an Orthodox Jewish man’s head), a more “proper” cartoon – that one would consider more “respectful” of the rabbi, yet it’s not about The Rabbi in particular exactly, and it’s not about Judaism either!

However, I am referring to Rabbi Moshe Feinstein. THE Reb Moshe (1895-1986). Descendant of writers of the Talmud, Father of North American Jewish Law and blah blah blah…

Now, I have a big problem with authority on anything. That’s just how I am. But part of being Jewish is to question, to study, to learn, and to be a scholar as much as possible. Reb Moshe would have told us that. Even the meaning of Israel, which Jacob was renamed for, is “one who wrestles with God.” It is supposed to be a struggle. So I chose to leave the funny looking rabbi the way he was! And still, I struggle with it.

He is spouting out part of an actual quote of Rabbi Feinstein’s, which says, “There are many times when a person feels that he cannot move forward because a dark cloud hangs over him. One should know, however, that nothing can stop him! Sometimes one can make a path through the cloud…”

Pretty nice, eh? Ya, I liked it.

Now, likewise, I had pause with the wheels on In Training –

still on the cartoony thing, stay with me…

I thought to my self, self, should I put wheels on this composition? Should I leave it be? Without them, it’s more of a “grown up” work of art. Or is it design? Shit, I sure as hell don’t want it to be that! I do think putting wheels on it would be pretty funny. But then, does that make my work a joke? Maybe all my work is a fucking joke! Uh oh. It will make it “cute.” There’s that “cute” thing again. Run away-run away! …but you can’t run away from your self…

Okay, so. I can’t control it if someone else thinks my work is “cute.” Let em. I’m quite serious – well, I mean, about my art. I am very serious about my art actually. Can’t you people see that? As far as making it a bit funny, well, I can’t help it. If I could be a comedian, I’d do it. But alas, I don’t think even I am that depressed.

Ohhhh, bad stab and my comic pals. I apologize. But they get paid about as much as I do, and they are far more talented.

Anyhow, Funny-looking rabbi with one leg and sharp teeth, kooky wheels on my figure 8 design, little feet on most everything else, and I wonder why I can’t afford gas.

 

 

however, that nothing

Ayin EsLeave a comment

Here is a new painting! Number 4:

kingofthis

It is called, “King of This.” It’s 24 x 24 inches, oil and pencil on birch panel.

I betcha wouldn’t think that would take a long time, but it did. Oy vhey did it ever. I can’t say why. I hardly know why myself, but here it is now, finished.

The one that is taking the most time, and believe me, I have been working on it between all these other ones, is Number 5, “Rabbi Says.” It has a partial quote on it from Rabbi Moshe Feinstein going around in a sort of spiral and I previously had to paint the outlines, then the lettering, and now I am painting the colors around the letters. Today I painted around the words, “however, that nothing” and it’s not that it took all day, it just took a long fucking time!

Before that I spent a longer time messing about with the photograph above in Photoshop, and before that I was at the post office, if you must know.

Here is Number 6 on my easel:

number6

Rainbow Country

Ayin Es1 Comment

I have not been working on my book for a long, long time. It’s so hard to juggle all that I have, but I’m not taking on any new shows for a while, so I hope that I can dedicate some time to my writing when I’m done with these eight paintings

Shrapnel in the San Fernando Valley, as it it is called for now – and I don’t foresee changing it – has been the toughest project I have probably ever had to do. I am reliving all the parts of my life – all the hardest parts of my life. Sure, I will be editing out the boring, the non-pertinent, the lengthy rants that are similar to my blog (because in using anything like those, they won’t necessarily be  to promote, protect or to entertain), but the rough draft inevitably needs to be written. I’m living through all of it just the same.

It is much harder to remember it and write it out than it was to experience it at the time. Doesn’t seem possible, right? But when you are going through a traumatic event, you go into survival mode. We all do. We dissociate to some degree, or we find a way endure it. We have to. Then we move on. Because we have to. And in moving on, we most likely do not think about it. That just works wonders.

Diving in and out of this book is bitter sweet. I like writing about the first time the light bulb went off for me in terms of art, music, love, friendship, independence, and stuff like that thar. I’ve been writing pretty much in chronological order, so knowing that something horrible is coming up, just makes me avoid getting back to a writing session.

I wish it was done, really. I’m 75-80% finished with the rough draft. That is far from done. That is bare bones stuff. I have never written a book before. I know nothing about how it’s done. I only know how I am going to do it before I hand it off to the editor. She might change everything, but I know exactly how I am going to structure the thing – section by section, chapter by chapter, because sometimes the helicopter flies high over miles of mountain ranges. Sometimes, it flies lower and circles around a camp. And many times it will land so the pilot can get out to get a really good look at the dirt.

dansavesdan

Some future problems with this thing that I needlessly worry about are:

SUBJECT: What the hell is this? A memoir? Autobiography? Creative non-fiction, Artist memoir? Family memoir? Music biography? Women’s biography? Religious biography? Dark humor – non-fiction, …and HOLY SHIT! I’m sorry. I was just reading something that I did not realize on Barnes and Noble. Is this true? Someone please tell me if I am misunderstanding this:

Is PUSH fiction???? It is filed under fiction. I’m having a heart attack! I did NOT know that!

I am totally baffled now. I will be back when I get my head on straight. I am just….baffled. I can’t finish this blog entry right now. Sorry.

7:16 PM Okay, I am back now. I’m over it. I painted. I got some stuff done. I made decisions. I feel better. Fuck it.

When I read The Color Purple, I was well aware of Alice Walker. I guess I was stupid enough to think that Push was actually written by a young, illiterate girl who experienced these things and still on her way to becoming educated despite being such a young, single mother.

Now, both books do not lie. I am not mad that it is fiction, because it is not a fictitious story. My mind was just blown, that’s all.

All this time, I have been somewhat modeling, or rather just thinking about where my book belongs in terms of Push. That book was giving me courage to tell my story! I figured it would be, if published, close together on the shelf in the bookstore. I felt like, if people accepted her story

and believed it

and still loved her

maybe I had a chance of receiving the same reaction.

ANOTHER Change of Plans

Ayin Es4 Comments

Ha ha ha! What did I call the last blog post? Change of Plans: No More Seven or Eight? I find that funny. Because I have changed my plans yet again! Call me crazy. Actually, no don’t. Don’t call me crazy. That would seriously offend me.

Not only will there be a seven and eight, there will be a nine and a ten and a so forth. The numbers will keep going up if you know how to count.

Number 3:

Red Scarf, 2013. Oil and pencil on birch panel.
Red Scarf, 2013. Oil and pencil on birch panel.

I don’t care about size. (Who said women care about size?) I don’t care about price. I don’t care about rules or regulations.

When I was a kid, my grandfather – well, he wasn’t really my grandfather – he was just Jack, my Nana’s 20th husband or something like that. He was a genuine Fuller Brush man, but that’s besides the point.

He used to come over to my house and grill me about how I should make a neat and tidy list of “RULES ANS REGULATIONS” and stick it on our refrigerator. I’ve probably mentioned this before. But it’s because it’s so ingrained into my head. Even the sound of his scratchy voice and Brooklyn accent, “Ya have to follow those rules and regulations so you know how to behave!” And all this because the fucking television was on in the living room when he came over for Thanksgiving one year.

It was probably on so we didn’t have to hear him bitch and moan.

So, as usual, I digress.

I have spent the last five days going over this whole idea of rules and regulations, about galleries, the economy, painting smaller, and pricing. Other people’s opinions, the “art world,” the supposed tos, and all that crap. Even the opinions of real people in your life that actually do matter, like the people I love – even they don’t even matter! Sounds harsh, but when it comes to your art work, YOU have to love it. If your mom hates it, too bad. And that goes for your boyfriend too.

I feel like I looked at all this shit from every angle until each element turned into a piece of fruit. Yes, I said fruit. Why? Because I have been eating a lot of fruit these past few months, and I have lost 25 pounds by the way. (Yaye. No one has noticed.)

So I chopped all this fruit up on a cutting board and slid it into a giant watermelon bowl (as seen below) and tossed it with some really nice, wooden salad tongs I got in a little, off-the-beaten path town in Italy that you will never find.

Then I served up this very interesting fruit-salad-of-art-quandary to both myself and my very opinionated boyfriend and… it tasted like shit!

It was so bad, we both could not eat it. I had to put the entire thing into the garbage disposal. Bye bye.

So I had to go fruit shopping, by myself, cut everything up, by myself, and eat it by myself.

The metaphor here means absolutely nothing – so stop trying to figure it out. I’m off the fruit thing.

Starting Saturday, I went through my entire database and repriced all my work, raising the prices for aaaallll the increments that were missed over the past six years — after I did the print residency at Self Help Graphics, which put me into almost a dozen international museum collections. Then, when won the Pollock-Krasner Award, landed a fourth, upscale gallery in Nashville and had two solo shows there. I had another important solo show at UCLA Hillel, and won two more grants from the California Arts Council, and most recently at the Artists’ Fellowship in New York. Not to mention had my hand painted book, All Done But None purchased for the National Museum of Women in the Arts collection in Washington, DC and UC Irvine. Plus, I had more of my Artists’ books purchased by The Brooklyn Museum, , Otis, UCLA, and a half a dozen private collections (both books and original paintings).

Never were my prices raised.

So at this point, to be shy about a crappy economy, taking financial and/or aesthetic advice from a gallery I no longer am represented by, or be scared to utilize my larger inventory of blank canvases – it’s all a waste of time time. I’m moving forward with my own gut.

mjp was actually a great motivator on helping me to raise my prices, I have to say. He’s been telling me for years to quadruple+ my prices, but I was too scared. I also wasn’t free to do that either. And as an artist, you can’t go backwards once you do raise your prices, so it is a big risk. However, I have nothing to loose now.

Learning to get Mad not Even

Some people may or may not agree that being mad, at times, is not only healthy, it’s a great motivator.

Well, this has been a lifelong problem for me. I fear “mad.” I fear anger. My own, other people’s, etc.

We all gravitate towards the familiar, so if you’re used to bad habits, of course it’s going to feel odd to make a change. It’s like learning to walk or something, but I’m working on it.

Because all it’s gotten me is depression (turning the anger inward on myself) and rage (stuffing it down and suppressing it).

Sometimes I even wonder if I could deal with these kinds of complex PTSD issues, how much brain chemistry would be left to medicate? The same amount? Very little? None? It makes me think.

So I’ve been working on these “rage letters.” I would never send them out of course. But they are starting to become healing and at the very least, getting me in touch with my anger.

The first ones I wrote, my therapist read them and laughed at them. She said, “This isn’t rage.”

I wrote things like, I am very upset and sad and feel you should take some responsibility for this situation…

I guess that is pretty funny. That doesn’t even sound remotely mad really. It sounds like I was giving the person some sort of option. Ha!

Eventually, I’ve been able to write things more like, “you’re a nasty bitch that deserves life-long baldness and your toenails removed with a rusty pliers…”

So at least I’m getting there.

Okay. Want to see the preliminary sketch for Number 6?

idea6

 

I’m working on Number 4 today. It’s lots and lots of black outlines, so maybe I will take a pic when I’m done with this part of it. We’ll see.