the work

See the sleeves? These took up my entire day. Some days I can grab the pliers and it’s on and poppin’ yet today was not one of those days. Today’s work was a laborious task filled with lots of pauses and effort and struggle. The work did not flow with ease but rather it was full of strain and groaning and deliberate effort.

I must say, those art receptions I attended last night really did a number on me. Three receptions and I didn’t understand any of the work. I tried. Very often I can see work I don’t understand or like but then I’ll read the artist’s statement or talk to the artist and gain some insight. Even if I still don’t like the work, at least I understand where the artist is coming from. Last night was different. I didn’t get it. I read the artists’ statements. At one show I eavesdropped on the artist talking about her work and yet I still did not get it. Frankly, I don’t know if the majority of the people there ‘got it’. I couldn’t write it off as crap necessarily because I didn’t know if that would be premature or boldly arrogant on my end.

At one point I stood next to my friend John watching people mingle as we sipped bubbly water and I said, “This makes me rethink my work completely.” We talked as we leaned against a windowsill in a big beautiful loft full of people and I told him how this work made me question why I’d spend hours upon hours laboring away when someone else simply comes up with a concept. It does not take hours upon hours to paint the inside of a paper bag and place a mirror in it. I was careful with my words – afraid of sounding like a complete idiot. And yet he understood – here he was, this guy lugging a life-size camera on his truck to shoot in remote locations only to get home and spend hours hand developing massive 50 x 75 inch photos. He understood.

Our conversation was circular in that it ended with me saying, “Maybe I should just do what I do and not worry so much about what others are doing.”
He said, “You gotta create work that brings you a sense of fulfillment.”
Amen to that.

tuesday...

I realized just how much the weather affects my mood. This realization was obvious when I woke up lighthearted as the sunlight streamed into the room yesterday morning. The day felt so optimistic and I worked so hard, getting so much done and yet feeling really hopeful and positive at the same time. Today was a dark, rainy day as I slowly crawled out of bed all achy and draggy. It took a cup of strong coffee to kick things into gear…

I have spent the past two days working on a new website for all of my artwork. It is slowly coming along and tends to eat up many hours as I pull all of my images and remarks together into many categories under one roof. Some of this process has been tedious and mind-numbing and yet I find myself thinking about how beautiful the site will be when it launches. It feels great, like I am putting together a beautiful gift to share with the world.

This morning the following article was in the SF Chronicle:

Musician Carlos Santana can soon add a new award to his bevy of Grammys: the 2010 Mayor's Art Award. Mayor Gavin Newsom will present the honor March 18 at a private event hosted by the Arts Commission in the War Memorial Veterans Building's Green Room.

"Carlos Santana is without a doubt one of San Francisco's most beloved icons," Newsom said in a statement. "When he burst onto the scene with his extraordinary new sound he solidified San Francisco's position as one of the main stages in the history of rock 'n' roll."

Santana said in a statement, "I am honored to be given this wonderful award from the city that helped launch my life as a musician."

Previous recipients of the award during Newsom's tenure include cotemporary artist Ruth Asawa and choreographer Alonzo King.

Why is this so exciting to me that I’d do a happy little dance around my room? Well, today I got an invite to this fabulous event! Because of my storefront project, I’ve entered into a new circle of artist friends!

one slow step at a time

how to climb a mountain

Make no mistake.
This will be an exercise in staying vertical.

Yes, there will be a view, later, a wide swath of open sky,
but in the meantime: tree and stone.
If you're lucky, a hawk will
coast overhead, scanning the forest floor.
If you're lucky,
a set of wildflowers will keep you cheerful.
Mostly, though,
a steady sweat, your heart fluttering indelicately, a solid ache
perforating your calves.
This is called work, what you will come to know,
eventually and simply, as movement, as all the evidence you need to make
your way.
Forget where you were.
That story is no longer true.

Level your gaze to the trail you're on, and even the dark won't stop you.
- Maya Stein
found via Superhero

be whom you were made to be

I found myself in shock and very grieved when I got on the internet this morning and found out that the extraordinary fashion designer Alexander McQueen was found dead in his apartment this morning. More shocking to me was that he was my age. I was so inspired by him. I didn’t love all of his work but I admired the way that he always pushed the envelope and offered something mindblowing, something unexpected, something that only he could give. He was a big source of inspiration for me and he will definitely be missed. There will never be anyone like him ever.

I have been reading a book by Max Lucado called ‘Cure for the Common Life” which I picked up a week ago a thrift store. It’s been the best three dollars and twenty-six cents I’ve spent in a long time. Some of the book freaks me out a bit because if I were to live as encouraged in this book it would require great courage and bravery. At the same time, it pushes me toward just what I need to do. Here's some of what Lucado says:

God made you and broke the mold. “The Lord looks from heaven; He sees all the sons of men. From the place of His dwelling He looks on all of the inhabitants of the earth; He fashions their hearts individually; He considers all their works” (Psalm 33:13-15). Every single baby is a brand-new idea from the mind of God.

God tailor -made you. He ‘personally formed and made each one”(Isaiah 43:7).
No box of ‘back-up yous’ sits in God’s workshop….
You are it! And if you aren’t you, we don’t get you. The world misses out.

You play no small part, because there is no small part to be played.

The Author of the human drama entrusted your part to you alone. Live your life, or it won’t be lived. We need you to be you.
You need to be you.
You can’t be your hero, your parent, or our big brother. You might imitate their golf swing or hairstyle, but you can’t be them. You can only be you. All you have to give is what you’ve been given to give. Concentrate on who you are and what you have.”Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life” (Galatians 6:4-5)

As always, I often draw connections from various events of my life together to make a point or to use as a source of direction and insight.

Last Friday I spoke to Rhodessa Jones, this incredible writer, actress, playwright and woman of many talents. For many years she has done theatre for incarcerated women and used her talent as a form or healing and rehabilitation. One evening last week I sat in front of the computer and watched ‘you-tube’ clips of her. One in particular was an interview she did in Moscow, Russia for a new station. She described her work as spiritual in that “it is a time for public communion, a time to put these women center stage so that they won’t be forgotten. To celebrate the fact that they are someone’s daughter, someone’s mother, someone’s sister and so that they can embrace that and honor that and we can hear their stories.” She also looks at what we have all done – both the prisoners and us, as a society to create this situation. I think she looks at wrongdoing, consequences, healing and forgiveness as a communal act in what she is doing. The interviewer had a skeptical way about him that came out in his tone as he interviewed her. However, there’s a part at the end of the interview that really stuck with me because in the brief response, I could see that this woman is doing what she is meant to do. The interviewer asks her if she thinks what she does is really working. She said, “It is working. And if nothing else it has definitely helped me to be a better human being.” This remark made me think about how fortunate we are that she has chosen to do such a thing - to share her own unique talent with the world. Who knows how many lives have been changed through her bravery to go after that which she was called to do.

Sade’s album was released two days ago. It’s been ten years since she last released an album and so the build-up was exciting as we listened to her first track and waited for the release date. I love her style and her talent and there are so many songs of hers that I love. I remember seeing her in concert with my husband when she toured ten years ago. We weren’t even married yet! I remember all of the couples around us and quite a few men with their pregnant women and by the looks on their faces, I knew this was the music they fell in love to. It was the soundtrack to my love story as well.
The other night I watched a video on her website about the making of the album. She ended the video by saying something very profound. She said,

“I never feel that feeling of people needing me, because if I was to feel that then I don’t think I could cope with those feelings of responsibility. Having said that though, I do feel a responsibility when we’re making the music, to create something with love in it, so I think people can then feel it and that’s what you’re giving them. I’m never flippant about music and what we do. It’s always like a mission, a task which I don’t undertake lightly.” - Sade.

So, in the simplest form, I am seeing that it is important to step away from the fear and simply do what have been designed to do.

As Max Lucado says, “Accept God’s permission to be whom he made you to be.”

{sigh}

God asks no man whether he will accept life. That is not the choice. You must take it. The only question is how. ~Henry Ward Beecher

creative pause---

remember, you do not have to know everything in each moment.
you can be still.
you do not have to run ahead.
you can breathe deeply and just stay right where you are.
you choose where to let your mind reside.
you can ask for help.
you can close your eyes until you see only quiet.
it is okay to pause.
you know what to do.
yes.
you do.
give yourself permission to listen.
give yourself permission to know.

- whispered reminders (to myself) – Liz Elayne Lamoreux,
Blog: be present, be here

Up until yesterday I had not worked on wire sculpture for a week. I felt like something was missing and yet I couldn’t touch my tools because I didn’t feel like I could. I needed time to refill, to think, idle time before jumping into something and I knew a week ago that I wanted to start a life size piece. Yet what do you do when you don’t know where you are going? What is there to do when you aren’t inspired? And while I work every single day and don’t give into that myth that you need to wait for inspiration to create, I do have to find that next dress, that object that I am moved to focus a creation around. Sure, I could have spent the last few days playing with wire and yet it seemed more necessary to just stop and sit in silence. I turned off the TV. I found myself just sitting doing nothing in particular. This is something that usually unnerves me and yet I felt I had no other choice. Today I saturated myself with information. I watched short videos of two artists whom I love and I listened to them speak about their creative process. The first woman caused me to question my own work and the second woman reminded me that we each have our own gifts to offer to the world and that we should focus on being as true to that vision as we can be. I stopped at some point in this search for inspiration and took a nap (another thing that I rarely do). I woke up with many ideas for sculptures although I don’t know if they were really mine, or my interpretation of what I should do after reading about art and feminism.

Here I am in that awkward place, that intermission, that pause before the next act begins.

the rollercoaster ride called life...

When I was a little girl and I had a bad day, my mom would always say, (usually as I climbed into bed) “Let’s hope tomorrow is a better day”.

Today was a great day.

A few weeks ago I was invited to be a part of the Black History Month celebration at City Hall, an event organized through the Mayor’s office. This morning I fought back my usual nervousness that comes before any art event and went. It was fabulous! Over one thousand people attended, children performed a choreographed dance to the sound of drums, monologues were acted out, an afro-centric group read parts of famous novels, a world renowned poet/ activist performed and there were many other great contributors.
In a wing next to the main event, I displayed my work along with other local arts and cultural venues, local service organizations and others. While I was a bit weary and cynical about the event at first (having never participated in something like this) the day was heavy laden with great networking. I felt like a farmer, planting seeds. This was a day of exposing my work to a new group of people as well.

There were also some moments that blew me away. I briefly chatted with one very established performing artist and when I said I was honored to meet her she said, “ I know you. I know your work. I know I’ve seen your work because this is unforgettable.” It just so happens that she was a juror for a show I was in a few years ago.

daily slice.

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return. - Mary Jean Iron

this day:
cold pizza for breakfast, taking down my storefront show for the SF Arts Commission, grocery shopping with my mom and brother, two loads of laundry, going to the produce stand, changing bed sheets, putting artwork into storage, watching biggest loser, putting away clean clothes and other things that made this day ordinary...