Friday, July 3, 2015

Hybrid Plums

Floating through the clouds of conceptual miasma is a complicated something. You know you have something in there somewhere - you know there are ideas worth talking about - but the fog isn't dissipating. Ok, you smelly fog, time to glom together and reveal the heart of the matter.

The summer greeted us with not only red, gold, and deep, eggplanty-purple plums, but amazing new plums bred with other fruit. Delightful plum-cherry hybrids the size of Chinese baoding balls. Plum-pomegranate hybrids that dispense of white pith and hard exteriors, and become instead a sweet-tart plum that leaves the astringent, tannic feeling of pomegranate juice on your tongue - like the dry soda version of a plum!

So you eat a marvelous plum-thing, and make the art, and enter it, but the miasma covers your thoughts, so your writing lacks sparkle. Panels and committees, they don't have time to fan the fog away to see what your good ideas might be. That's your job. So, in march the No's. Scholarship, No. Show, No. Residency, No. Fellowship, No.

Sit, eat a plum to help digest the No's. What a gorgeous, juicy Yes. You need the strength. You need the strength to take all your No's and cradle them softly inside; to tell them: "You are not No's. You are only Not Yets."

Whisper warmly to yourself that your dazzling deservingness lurks within you. And if you keep working, you will eventually blow the fog off and the work will become clear, and then you'll write your heart out, and the Not Yets will finally blossom into Yesses. You can make a cherry-plum of  your own. You can. Keep eating. Keep working. Growth takes its sweet time. Be kind to yourself. Keep working. Keep enjoying, even when you don't know what you are enjoying.

Untitled, 2015, India Ink

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Consistency is a dirty word

Consistency sounds like a nice, easy word, but it's tough and fussy. It wants what it is and it wants it all the time (like it is). It eats blog posts, gobbles website updates, gorges on new work, and still, demands more. Always more. Consistency can be a tough beast to become friends with. This is why my blog posts.... essentially do not exist.

But hey. While I'm here, I'll mention that I've got a little show up at The Waypost for this month of May. On one beautifully, buttery yellow wall. Please go and enjoy. 3120 N. Williams Ave. Portland, OR, 97227.


Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Kintsugi

A whole, beautiful show went by and I forgot to mention it even once. It was at 23 Sandy, and it was wonderful, though! I'm proud to have shown there.
Onward.


Sibling 7, 2015, Ink & Simple Gold Leaf


Kintsugi is the art of repairing pottery with gold resin or lacquer to celebrate the piece's history and understand that the piece is more  beautiful for having  been broken. I can't help but apply the idea to people.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Solo

Lots of excitement: tonight is the opening of my first ever solo show.
There will be some solid print work I've done over the years, as well as new illustrations I've been working on. Should you like to see all the goodies, they will be housed at:

Gravitate Design
1012 Washington St.
Vancouver, WA 98660

The show will be running from September 5th through September 30th, with the opening from 6pm-9pm. It would be lovely to see you there!



Sibling 3
2014
Ink

Sibling 4
2014
Ink

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Be So Very Patient

It is a difficult lesson to realize a that part of working hard to make things better is having patience.

The patience of knowing that you're not good at something right now, but if you keep doing it anyway, eventually you will become good.
Patience to save enough money to move; patience with your body to move slowly at first.
Patience to wait for the next semester, or the next registration, or the next information session.
Patience that you'll meet the right people.

It's a letting go of some control, this patience. It's working with the flow of the world around you, instead of struggling to make the world flow with you. It is being able to rest while in liminal states.

It's sometimes letting your head be at rest with your nose just above the water.


It's knowing that - whether you thrash around or have patience with yourself and life - either way, you will transition from who you were to who you are, to who you will become.


Head Above Water
2014
Acrylic dry-point intaglio & paper
(Addendum: would you like to see this piece in person? It will be on display at Oregon College of Art & Craft's Alumni show from July 3rd-30th.)

Who We've Been & Who We Are
2014
Acrylic dry-point intaglio, paper, pencil, watercolor, gouache

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Storytelling

"He was always such a nice boy -"
"Yes, such good manners, too..."
"-Well, what happened to him, again?"
"Oh you know... that girl."



"Oh yes. Tsk tsk. What was her name again?"
"Ah, let's not dwell. Let's just call her what she was - trouble."


I've been thinking a lot about storytelling and sequence, lately. About when it's important to give information, and when a lack of information makes everything more titillating. About how to make new again the stories we all already know, but still love to hear and tell over, and over again.

Nice Boy & Trouble Girl
2014
inda ink & wine

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Nada Word

I sat and stared. I tried to write about topics that interest me; I tried to write about ritual. I tried to ritualize the posting.

But I'm stuck in emotions that refuse to come out as words just yet. They're so fresh and burbling that they drown the words. Wisps of vowel, flakes of consonant are the only snatches of language I can presently catch.



Enfeebled. But at least I can see that I'm still connected. At least I can see there's still a bridge. I'll cross it when I'm ready.

Bridge
2013
copper plate photogravure & collage