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collage warm up

will vs. incidents

This painting on paper is actually from a week and a half ago. I am trying to focus on a variety of mark making. Somehow my compositions always end up more complicated, more violent even, than I want them to be. And here I am again, thinking about whether what I 'want' is what the process is about...

black triangle

Every few days my mind turns over and I change my studio practice dramatically. In the past 2 months alone I've worked on pencil line drawings--large and small format--, painting on paper--large and small format--, textile weaving knotting, beading, collaging, writing… I can understand a mind needing it all to come to terms with whatever it is grappling with. These are processes I intuitively sense away and spread over my days. Yet…

… I'm hoping some of these habits will calm. My studio is now clear of all the extras. I feel more open. It is strange but the physical openness has allowed my thinking to stabilize. I don't feel the constant anguish of not working hard enough. I feel more rounded. I can bear the minutes passing by as the paint dries.

Some of the openness and stability also have something to do with the spring weather. The warmth was long in arriving here. It has brought with it a lightness that makes the cold hard to imagine. Almost like it won't return.

Studio

I moved out the old black leather couch from my studio, along with the bookshelves. I'll miss the presence of books, but space was a priority and now the studio is roomier. Excitement...

Facing the block

The Good Woman

This is a pretend moment. I am nervous. Last night before sleeping I composed a mental note and failed to jot it down. I was teetering into sleep. Most of my moments are like that nowadays- shared by me and a pretend quietness. (There are many words here I can make a note about: 'moments', 'quietness', 'pretend.')

This is a pretend moment because I have been trying to recreate/recall my note from last night. It eludes me. The sun is finding openings into my home. I barely remember my dream.

I just read "The Good Woman of Setzuan." Seemingly random Readings can eerily speak to a present situation- wisdom finding its way through my pretend. The play by Brecht is about a woman who is given the impossible task of being good by the Gods.

"What rapture, oh, it is to know,
A good thing when you see it
And having seen a good thing, oh,
What rapture 'tis to flee it"

Originally written in German, I read the translation by Eric Bentley. I am not sure if I grasp the correct reading of the verse (and usually I don't care if I do or don't--running primarily on feelings-- but as I am writing about it openly, I must be more thorough…). The Gods sing it as they leave Shen Te (the 'good' woman) assured of her past and future goodness even as she assures them of the contrary. It spoke to me of Irony and abandonment. The cynic turnsed in my heart. But Bertolt isn't cynical; I am at times. I really liked the book and that particular verse.

working on the larger pieces

past week accumulation

past 2 weeks

working on large drawings