George Carlin 1937-2008

My artist friend Pat Tierney sent this to me today. I had to post it.

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much,love too seldom, and hate too often.

We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back,but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things,but not better things.

We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes.These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality,one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.

Remember, to say, ‘I love you’ to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again. Give time to love,give time to speak, and give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take… but by the moments that take our breath away…

–The words of George Carlin after his wife passed.

Too hot to think

It is too hot to move, too hot to put clothes on, too hot to think. We are having a record-breaking heatwave here in Los Angeles and it’s a killer, I tell you! We weren’t affected much in San Pedro when this happened. In fact, no one I know had air conditioning in San Pedro. You didn’t need it.

But alas, I am not in Pedro anymore. I’m up here on the El Sereno/South Pasadena/Alhambra border. And while it’s beautiful, it’s HOT, even with A/C. I hear that northeast Pasadena is like 10 degrees hotter, so I feel bad for mjp. Luckily he is indoors in the AC.

I only managed to work a little bit on the green painting, but it’s slightly further along. It’s just hard to see in this blurry image. I spend a lot of time layering a lot of medium in order to get a rich, almost incandescent, coloring, something I’ve been doing a long time. I think it gives it a polished look in the end, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Often I just want to obsess less and see what would happened if I left it the fuck alone, but I’m not going to do that with this piece. I’m going to put all my efforts in like I do all my canvases otherwise I don’t feel right about showing or selling them.

pey2

I use a lot of underpainting for texture and depth, coating the top with either a thick (matte) or transparent oil color. The pattern paper I use takes a lot of abuse, first with sticking it onto the canvas with a clear acrylic polymer — which leaves a shine, and I hate that shine, so then I work with swirling a lot of acrylic matte color on top of the paper and over the polymer until the paper absorbs it and the shine diminishes. I’ll get a lot of rough parts in the paper, kind of spotty, in the areas that didn’t get sealed with the polymer. I kind of like that (depending) because it shows the paper getting roughed up, like scrubbing it until it almost starts to fall apart. It’s fun stuff. I try to be careful not to completely hide that manila color of the paper, even when it’s mixed with paint – I like to keep some of that original paper color present somehow.

I feel like I am giving away my secrets. I don’t know what compelled me to start typing about this stuff.

Anyway, after all that is done, I feel like then the thing is ready to be painted on. I know that sounds silly since I’m painting layers on it before that, but when I get to the point where I’m using pure oil paint and pencil, it’s all prep work to me. The basic composition is there, and the original vision, but then it’s time to expand on that and see where it all goes. That’s the “painting” part.

The stage you see here is me just starting to “paint” it. I can confirm, however, that the top left corner of this painting is 90% done.

When it’s all done being painted and it dries, I stitch on it: one stitch at a time. I poke the holes first, so I can see where I’m at from the back of the canvas because light comes through those holes and the light is my guide.

After that I’ll embroider some elements in the painting. That part is fun too, because it’s the ‘finisher” to the whole thing and I can start to see what the hell I’ve made. And I usually hate it until I can walk away from it for some days. Well maybe not hate as much as can’t be objective. That is a whole other process. The artist spends all this time with the process of creating and fabrication, having a very close personal relationship with the work in a way a viewer will never ever know, then the viewer is experiencing something the artist will never know because of the very intimate time we spent working on it. I can compare it to a mother raising a child, then letting that child loose to fend for themselves. You’re proud, yet horrified, terrified and cautious. You know you did your best, and now you must put the child to the test.

I guess I spent most of the day Tuesday working on this doll thing instead of painting.

doll2

If I can get it to where I want it, I’ll put it in the show and hang it from the ceiling, but I think this one is more like the prototype and not the one I’ll be happy with.

I did manage to finish the 2 dollar bill. I expected to sew on it, or embroider it, but I just painted something goofy on it. I’ll scan it when it’s dry and send it off to Mat Gleason.

Sleepy Working Weekend

I’ve been tired. Having a hard time getting enough sleep, so my work schedule has been going in spurts whenever I get a good dose of caffeine in me.

I have been changing too. Inside, I’m feeling a change. I’m about to turn 40. I think I’m finally putting aside a lot of baggage and issues, like caring what people think. That’s a big one, but it’s been like a little handbag and not the anvil case it has been.

Getting back into the swing of painting again, I’m starting to stress less about what to create, and rather letting myself create. I think this has a lot to do with trusting myself and giving the id permission to indulge, with little need for control.

Today I’m working on this green piece… Get it? Greenpeace?? Okay, maybe that was a stupid joke. I’m working on what seems to be a greenish colored canvas. (34″ square) It’s turning green/gold/brown/black/white. I’m just letting myself paint without too much in mind but a skeleton of an idea. It started with green drippings over the letter Pei, a car crash and some floating heads. Go figure.

I also have been fucking around with what seems to be some kind of doll. It’s so much easier to sit, relax, and sew than it is to hold up my arms and paint for long periods. I am hovering between doing both, while thinking about what to do with my 2-dollar bill.

Nuews

A review of the Bookish show came out in the Seattle Times this weekend. Here’s an excerpt:

Es, a self-taught Los Angeles artist with a burgeoning career, is represented in this show by two of her handmade artist’s books, which display charming drawings and witty writing. Her appealing approach creates a disjuncture — while also allowing a deeper engagement — with her achingly brutal statements about her difficult childhood. 

Also, I am part of the Summer Salon group show at George Billis Gallery that has an opening reception tonight from 5-8 pm.