the great frontier

These last couple years have been full of really short chapters. Or maybe not chapters, maybe section breaks.

memphis

[sb]

chicago

[sb]

italy

[sb]

memphis (finale)

[sb]

michigan

[sb]

minneapolis

[and now I think it's time for an end to the chapter]

It's nice that the future can be so uncertain but so full of potential at the same time. I am looking forward to my upcoming (plane/road) trip on thursday, spending time with my family and seeing old friends in michigan later this may, getting married to the best person ever, starting a new life with him and in general.

I can feel things bubbling in my mind, ideas of where I'd like to take my artwork, things I'd like to make and do. I'm thinking drawings on found or old paper (or objects?), something that already has a history attached to it and gets recontextualized when something new is added to it. Various collage elements, lots of layers. I want to do something with momentum, something I can come back to again and again, but still has enough room to evolve and grow on its own. I think I need to do some writing and sketching and photographing and I think going home will be a good time to do that. I will be unpacking and repacking and sorting and sifting and I hope it will all come together.

For now, I will try to enjoy the solitude. Allow little comforts, let things germinate. Big things are coming.

don't observe, ignore, shut up

I'm tired of all the blogs whining about National Poetry Month.

I want a home.

printmakers and thiefs

My favorite etching plate is a line etching I did of my friend in Italy. I wish I could do a portrait of every single person I care about on a small plate like that, drawing from life, directly onto the (with a layer of the red transfer paper) plate.

Last semester I had the idea of doing a series of memory drawings of different objects and people and impressions. The problem is my memory drawing is shit. I hoped it would be that good quirky shit drawing, that is not actually shit, but just a little off in an interesting way. Unfortunately that idea was only good in theory. Maybe I'll write a series of memory drawings instead of actually drawing them. Then everyone could just imagine how awesome the drawings could be. Probably, if I just drew more in general, I could do drawings without too much appropriation. Maybe the secret is that all those people with the seemingly spontaneous drawings do it the same way I do. Steal steal steal. Although is drawing from life stealing? Not that there's anything wrong with that . . .

my job hat is hanging on the hook

I know it's been awhile. My sister surprised me with a visit so I've been playing the (perhaps a little boring) hostess this week. Also performing some very exciting poetry experiments in the meantime. With my internship nearing a close, my upcoming nuptials this summer, and the question of where Ian and I will be after that, the you have to become a grownup monster has been breathing down the back of my neck lately and bashing him with a club doesn't seem to deter him. Sometimes I get very excited thinking about all the possibilities . . . start a fine-art/poetry press? become a working artist/printmaker/writer/etc.? work at a (non-fine-art) press or do something editorial? get a completely unrelated day job that allows time to do am mixture of all those things? . . . but sometimes those possibilites can be daunting. Too many choices, and too many directions. So it's nice to remember that there are many others out there who have faced the same thing.

A great interview with Marcia Zia Priven on decor8 today. I especially loved when she said:

There is no definitive choice. Nothing has to remain the same and you can always change your job, your direction, your life. Really. And trust me, I’ve done it many a time. I’ve had gallery shows of my paintings, been a store owner, a set painter, a set decorator, production designer, a lousy novelist and had a brief job at a photo studio in which I was fired after 2 months.

We have become so career driven that we tend to think our jobs are our life, not just an aspect of them that offers a little padding and security. Sure, it's nice if it can also provide motivation or inspiration, but we still go on when the workday ends and thank God. I suppose artists don't get off so easily because that's not something that ever shuts down, but a little perspective can go a long way.

"April is the cruelist month"

happy poetry month everyone!



does anyone have special plans for this month?

I think it'd be great if poets had something like nanowrimo, in which people write a novel in one month. poets would write a bookish amount of poems during the month of april and then get together at the end to share the shining bits. maybe next year.