It dawned on me today just how limited I have become in my work both conceptually and physically in the last number of years. Of course I've known it, but the gravity of it passed over me in a new way. It felt similar to an experience I had as a sophomore in high school. I was struck by an awareness that I was wasting part of myself by not committing more to art making. I sat in the middle of the large, open entrance to the gym, pensive and aware of what it seemed to mean. It was an interesting response, to sit down on the floor in hall. I felt shame and loss because I hadn't made enough; didn't have much to show for myself at the end of the year when they put the art show in the gym. I was the best artist in my huge class, without question, and it was my favorite thing. Yet I felt I didn't give it what it deserved. This is how I remember it. I changed after that day, thank god.
And now I have stopped bothering to even think about making larger, conceptual work because there is no place to show or create it on hand. I can't make it anywhere to submit it anywhere to be shown. Installation is so important to me and I miss it so much. Haven't done it since the collective lost our space on 9th Street. (San Francisco doesn't have much space for average folks).
I must remedy this in some way.
Work about -
Acceptance of mystery.
Confrontation with yourself.
A DIGITAL SKETCHBOOK OF NOTES; a record of what I'm looking at.
To document, muse, unravel, remember, remind, brainstorm, inspire, process, acknowledge, and journal.
Images and content on this blog that is not mine is credited to the best of my ability and used for educational purposes.