Daunting Tasks require Patience.
Trying to get out of burnout can be a daunting task and patience is essential. I had been having a rejuvenating week, completion of projects was complimented by writing for new ideas. Working out happened in the same way that working in the studio occurred.
Thursday I was ready for a break and going to Cam's Mastermind award through the RFT sounded delightful. Having never been before I imagined that it would be a sit down dinner. I was surprised to find more of an all over art show at the Artist Guild with appetizer catering and many bars. The bars featured three drink types; beer, wine, or a vodka mixed drink thats main ingredient was mineral water. The same mineral water that crashed the parade. These people get around. Gina Alvarez is managing the gallery, I was excited to see what she had been doing to the space including setting up a print shop. I was glad to run into Steve and Elysia from All Along Press screen printing in the basement.
As any group show a mixed bag some nice shoehorn Brother Mel pieces and a favorite found object piece by our (cam and mine) old artist landlord Gwyn Wahlman. She let us live in a cabin in her woods one winter for a few months. Also I was intrigued by a piece that involved three thickly painted black lines on a wall. Blending into one of the lines was a black leather purse. This piece did not in my mind need the ceramic portion and gold doily. Don't know the artists name.
Anyways I've had sort of Stealing Beauty dream to attend a weird outdoor party, like in that movie, and I thought this was the St. Louis equivalent. Firedancers, bellydancers, naked painted people, live art, comedians, a sort of continous spetacle, this was very odd, and fun to be a peoplewatcher. One of those parties where I say to myself "Where did all these people come from?." The owner from Pi sponsored Cam's award and I was surprised to see how young he was, as well as, to learn that that he had moved away from St. Louis and then returned opening the restaurant. He was interested in antiques and we discussed hot spots for a good deal.
Next day.
Find out another award is announced. Cam gets a lot of recognition and that's one awkward thing about artists dating artists. I have to remind myself not to compare his success with my own. We see each other as equals, as it should be. Nonetheless when Cam receives tons of accolades I honestly am a mixture of happiness and questioning. Things like what does he do different than I? How does he present himself so that these things happen? I don't really care if its money or an article, what I like is that its a bit of encouragment. Like saying-- keep doing what you do.
This gets to Jamie Kreher and Brett. I had coffee with Jamie on Friday and she is one of my favorite artist companions. One project that Jamie and Brett have going is that they randomly give out artist mini-grants. Whatever they can. One day they sent me a letter and then put a little mini grant in it for my next project. I haven't spent it yet because I consider it good luck and i wanted to donate it to Cam's institute. Nonetheless its a great notion and functions like how a thank you letter or a cheerleading card might work. (cheerleading card is an art note that makes someone feel better about what they are working on or how they function in the world, Lyndsey Scott is a leader is this medium.)
Back to Jamie reasons I like her are:
She works in a completely opposite medium of my own and with a different material handling and we are still able to have very engaging conversations about our work.
She is a very dedicated supporter of the art community and gets out to her friends shows.
The seriousness with which she approaches her own art career.
Her sarcastic sense of humor.
Robert Goetz show at Webster. Clean slow visuals of the top of a tree that was assume is being chopped down by the sound of chainsaw and subtle swaying. Visuals remind me of Sofia Coppola Virgin suicides. Sunspots through trees, slow changing clouds. When the tree falls I am sad and thrilled, we've been waiting so long but gee it leaves a whole in the forest. He later posted in a critical mass email; something that now I can only recall the sentiment- good and bad we make art, happy and sad, we do it for ourselves because no one else in the world may care. Kind of reminds me of watching a tree fall down.
Back to boyfriends that score art world points. So on Saturday I woke up and I was feeling sorry for myself. I took myself out to breakfast and wrote in my journal. After returning home I was uplifted by a conversation with friend Amy. I hang up and the visuals come. Swirling half visions, I can't see the computer screen. Rendering me an insane hypersensitive sick person, this migraine compels me to cover my windows, drink a soda (caffeine), sit in child's pose, eat a tuna sandwhich, and then finally give up. This is really why I hate them so much, there's nothing I can do and when they arrive i have to be a part of excruciating pain. Patience.
So what caused what? Did the impending unexplained migraine cause my emotional depression and doubt or did the emotions cause the migraine? No idea. I lost a few hours, got up, and went to draw. That evening I watched No Country for Old Men. Javier Barden is positively frightening and unstoppable, death, as Cam likes to say.
Walking a dog at 1am, Cam and I are transported into the movie world. A car stopped at the stop sign on my street is honking as loud country music blares. I get closer and peering into the window see a girl on top of a guy having sex. We figure her butt is making the horn honk. A car stops behind the sex car. I ask Cam is we should tell them. He says leave them alone cause they (sex car) might be tweakers. We continue on. The next morning while walking to the park, we see a burned up van parked in someone's alley space. We see it as another casuality from the previous evening.
Today if you wanted to pretend you were in another country, the place to be was the festival of nations. Highlights are the Argentinian empanadas, known to have huge lines since they are so popular. It was so cold that I bought an Indonesian Pashmina at the Kenyan booth. These places are where I feel my paintings are alive as I see traditional costumes from some other place and time walking with the hipsters, ladies with missing teeth, and old beer belly men.
Thursday I was ready for a break and going to Cam's Mastermind award through the RFT sounded delightful. Having never been before I imagined that it would be a sit down dinner. I was surprised to find more of an all over art show at the Artist Guild with appetizer catering and many bars. The bars featured three drink types; beer, wine, or a vodka mixed drink thats main ingredient was mineral water. The same mineral water that crashed the parade. These people get around. Gina Alvarez is managing the gallery, I was excited to see what she had been doing to the space including setting up a print shop. I was glad to run into Steve and Elysia from All Along Press screen printing in the basement.
As any group show a mixed bag some nice shoehorn Brother Mel pieces and a favorite found object piece by our (cam and mine) old artist landlord Gwyn Wahlman. She let us live in a cabin in her woods one winter for a few months. Also I was intrigued by a piece that involved three thickly painted black lines on a wall. Blending into one of the lines was a black leather purse. This piece did not in my mind need the ceramic portion and gold doily. Don't know the artists name.
Anyways I've had sort of Stealing Beauty dream to attend a weird outdoor party, like in that movie, and I thought this was the St. Louis equivalent. Firedancers, bellydancers, naked painted people, live art, comedians, a sort of continous spetacle, this was very odd, and fun to be a peoplewatcher. One of those parties where I say to myself "Where did all these people come from?." The owner from Pi sponsored Cam's award and I was surprised to see how young he was, as well as, to learn that that he had moved away from St. Louis and then returned opening the restaurant. He was interested in antiques and we discussed hot spots for a good deal.
Next day.
Find out another award is announced. Cam gets a lot of recognition and that's one awkward thing about artists dating artists. I have to remind myself not to compare his success with my own. We see each other as equals, as it should be. Nonetheless when Cam receives tons of accolades I honestly am a mixture of happiness and questioning. Things like what does he do different than I? How does he present himself so that these things happen? I don't really care if its money or an article, what I like is that its a bit of encouragment. Like saying-- keep doing what you do.
This gets to Jamie Kreher and Brett. I had coffee with Jamie on Friday and she is one of my favorite artist companions. One project that Jamie and Brett have going is that they randomly give out artist mini-grants. Whatever they can. One day they sent me a letter and then put a little mini grant in it for my next project. I haven't spent it yet because I consider it good luck and i wanted to donate it to Cam's institute. Nonetheless its a great notion and functions like how a thank you letter or a cheerleading card might work. (cheerleading card is an art note that makes someone feel better about what they are working on or how they function in the world, Lyndsey Scott is a leader is this medium.)
Back to Jamie reasons I like her are:
She works in a completely opposite medium of my own and with a different material handling and we are still able to have very engaging conversations about our work.
She is a very dedicated supporter of the art community and gets out to her friends shows.
The seriousness with which she approaches her own art career.
Her sarcastic sense of humor.
Robert Goetz show at Webster. Clean slow visuals of the top of a tree that was assume is being chopped down by the sound of chainsaw and subtle swaying. Visuals remind me of Sofia Coppola Virgin suicides. Sunspots through trees, slow changing clouds. When the tree falls I am sad and thrilled, we've been waiting so long but gee it leaves a whole in the forest. He later posted in a critical mass email; something that now I can only recall the sentiment- good and bad we make art, happy and sad, we do it for ourselves because no one else in the world may care. Kind of reminds me of watching a tree fall down.
Back to boyfriends that score art world points. So on Saturday I woke up and I was feeling sorry for myself. I took myself out to breakfast and wrote in my journal. After returning home I was uplifted by a conversation with friend Amy. I hang up and the visuals come. Swirling half visions, I can't see the computer screen. Rendering me an insane hypersensitive sick person, this migraine compels me to cover my windows, drink a soda (caffeine), sit in child's pose, eat a tuna sandwhich, and then finally give up. This is really why I hate them so much, there's nothing I can do and when they arrive i have to be a part of excruciating pain. Patience.
So what caused what? Did the impending unexplained migraine cause my emotional depression and doubt or did the emotions cause the migraine? No idea. I lost a few hours, got up, and went to draw. That evening I watched No Country for Old Men. Javier Barden is positively frightening and unstoppable, death, as Cam likes to say.
Walking a dog at 1am, Cam and I are transported into the movie world. A car stopped at the stop sign on my street is honking as loud country music blares. I get closer and peering into the window see a girl on top of a guy having sex. We figure her butt is making the horn honk. A car stops behind the sex car. I ask Cam is we should tell them. He says leave them alone cause they (sex car) might be tweakers. We continue on. The next morning while walking to the park, we see a burned up van parked in someone's alley space. We see it as another casuality from the previous evening.
Today if you wanted to pretend you were in another country, the place to be was the festival of nations. Highlights are the Argentinian empanadas, known to have huge lines since they are so popular. It was so cold that I bought an Indonesian Pashmina at the Kenyan booth. These places are where I feel my paintings are alive as I see traditional costumes from some other place and time walking with the hipsters, ladies with missing teeth, and old beer belly men.
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