What now?
Yep, it's that time again. Before the show, I didn't think I'd have those two words going through my mind, but they are. I also thought that I'd just continue painting like before the exhibitit went up. However, that hasn't been the case. It seems that regardless of how many new ideas I've been ready to get working on since before the opening reception, the past three weeks or so have found me not doing much of anything in the studio.
Despite all of my seeming readiness to jump back into the fray, I haven't been up to doing much of anything during the time that the show was up. All of the preparations for the show-finishing paintings, having framing done, photography-have caught up to me. My mind and body have conspired to make me slow down. I'm filled with new painting ideas, but my mind is a little fuzzy. I haven't been able to get it together to focus on painting lately.
It's good though, this forced rest period. I can feel myself coming back to a place where I can work again, but for a while there, I just couldn't. I obviously needed more time away from it than I thought. This Wednesday will mark my first day back in the studio to work. There's just one thing I have to work on, so I'll do that and see what else happens as the week progresses.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
Givng back
The exhibition ended this past Saturday and I'm happy with how things turned out. Made some sales and there are prospects for more, plus more people got to see the new work and that's always a good thing.
Also, on Saturday morning, I gave a talk to some children that came to the gallery as part of a church program for underprviledged youth based in Chester County, just outside of Philly. There were about 8 kids, aged 5-12, none of which had been in an art gallery before, and four adults. One of Bridgette's clients set up the trip and led the teaching aspect of of the discussion. I introduced myself and talked a little bit about myself and what I do as a painter. It was kind of hard at first, because I had to find different language to use than I usually do when describing my work. In other words, I had to make it simpler than usual as I'm not used to talking with younger students about my work.
Anyway, the students looked around the gallery, checked out the paintings and started linking images in the works to what they've seen in the world around them. They were really enthusiastic and asked a lot of questions. Later, they had the chance to do some drawing and coloring of their own and at the end, talked about what they did.
......
Going into this experience, I was kind of nervous since I'd not really interacted with younger students in the past. Once things got going and there was someone there handling the teaching end of the discussion (using some of the paintings as examples and asking the kids about different aspects of the images, I felt better. My reticence had more to do with it being a new experience more than anything. I've spoken to high school and college seniors about art in the past, but not younger kids.
They were attentive and appreciated being there and seemed to have a good time. I was happy to be able to give some time for this. It was really important for me, not only as an artist, but also as an African-American male who has worked to follow his dreams and has been actually living it. It felt good being an example to those kids of what's possible for them and that there are ways for them to express themselves beyond what they may already be used to.
I remember having a similar experience when I was in high school, 11th grade, I think. Our regular art teacher was out and we had a substitute for this one day. The sub was an African-American and an artist. The first thing I remember being struck by was his afro. This was the mid-80's and I hadn't seen anyone really wear one in a while. Anyway, he comes into class, big afro and bright yellow shirt, black slacks and tie. He's dragging in huge rolls of yellow paper and a briefcase. He puts his stuff down looks around, introduces himself (I have no clue what his name was), and takes roll.
With roll-call over, he begins to unfurl the rolls of paper and tack them up along the back wall. They were charcoal drawings of nudes. The drawings were of black people in various poses. Some were portraits and others were more like figure studies. I think everyone in the class was momentarily shocked, particularily the white kids. We knew about art nudes and such, but none of us had seen anything like this in the school before. I was impressed with the drawings and even more impressed when the substitute began talking about his work. At that point, I hadn't met any black artists before and there was something really powerful in how he spoke about his art and himself. That's stuck with me for a long time, obviously.
I can only hope that my time with the students at the gallery will be remembered in some form or another.
Also, on Saturday morning, I gave a talk to some children that came to the gallery as part of a church program for underprviledged youth based in Chester County, just outside of Philly. There were about 8 kids, aged 5-12, none of which had been in an art gallery before, and four adults. One of Bridgette's clients set up the trip and led the teaching aspect of of the discussion. I introduced myself and talked a little bit about myself and what I do as a painter. It was kind of hard at first, because I had to find different language to use than I usually do when describing my work. In other words, I had to make it simpler than usual as I'm not used to talking with younger students about my work.
Anyway, the students looked around the gallery, checked out the paintings and started linking images in the works to what they've seen in the world around them. They were really enthusiastic and asked a lot of questions. Later, they had the chance to do some drawing and coloring of their own and at the end, talked about what they did.
......
Going into this experience, I was kind of nervous since I'd not really interacted with younger students in the past. Once things got going and there was someone there handling the teaching end of the discussion (using some of the paintings as examples and asking the kids about different aspects of the images, I felt better. My reticence had more to do with it being a new experience more than anything. I've spoken to high school and college seniors about art in the past, but not younger kids.
They were attentive and appreciated being there and seemed to have a good time. I was happy to be able to give some time for this. It was really important for me, not only as an artist, but also as an African-American male who has worked to follow his dreams and has been actually living it. It felt good being an example to those kids of what's possible for them and that there are ways for them to express themselves beyond what they may already be used to.
I remember having a similar experience when I was in high school, 11th grade, I think. Our regular art teacher was out and we had a substitute for this one day. The sub was an African-American and an artist. The first thing I remember being struck by was his afro. This was the mid-80's and I hadn't seen anyone really wear one in a while. Anyway, he comes into class, big afro and bright yellow shirt, black slacks and tie. He's dragging in huge rolls of yellow paper and a briefcase. He puts his stuff down looks around, introduces himself (I have no clue what his name was), and takes roll.
With roll-call over, he begins to unfurl the rolls of paper and tack them up along the back wall. They were charcoal drawings of nudes. The drawings were of black people in various poses. Some were portraits and others were more like figure studies. I think everyone in the class was momentarily shocked, particularily the white kids. We knew about art nudes and such, but none of us had seen anything like this in the school before. I was impressed with the drawings and even more impressed when the substitute began talking about his work. At that point, I hadn't met any black artists before and there was something really powerful in how he spoke about his art and himself. That's stuck with me for a long time, obviously.
I can only hope that my time with the students at the gallery will be remembered in some form or another.
Monday, September 19, 2005
the other side of art
Last Wednesday, I talked to a group of senior art students at UArts. That Monday, my friend and fellow artist and gallery owner, Shelly Spector, asked me if I'd be interested in speaking to a group of students she was teaching. Her class is all about the side of art-making most of us don't enjoy that much: the business end of things. I jumped at the opportunity because there are too many art students who graduate from art schools without much knowledge about the administrative side of being artists. Sure, they might be talented, but can they write an effective artist statement and know how to present their resumés?
Shelly asked me to talk about how my career has grown and how I've come to where I am now. This particular session focused on building an artist resumé. I talked about how I got started showing (cafés and bookstores) and how one thing led to another through my entering various juried exhibitions and other competitions, including the Fleisher Challenge and having my work published in New American Paintings.
When Shelly asked me to talk to her students, I was flattered and nervous at the same time. I've spoken to students in my studio, but this was the first time I was going to speak in a classroom. I was out of my home base and wondered if I could still do what I needed to. The experience was good. I was nervous and it helped that I was sitting in a chair at the front of the class next to Shelly. I felt like I had something to ground me a little. It was a bit intimidating sitting there with all of these expectant eyes on me, waiting for whatever 'wisdom' I had to impart.
Even though I've come to a point in my career where I can speak somewhat authoritively about what I've done and been through as an artist, there was still that sense of 'what the hell am I doing?' while speaking? I tried to make sure I made as much sense as possible, and not stray too far from the topic at hand. The thing that helped me the most was that over the years, I've gotten better at talking about my work as an artist. At one point in the class, Shelly asked me if this was ten years ago, would I have been able to talk about my work in the same way as I can now. The answer was obviously 'no'. Sure, I might have been able to speak about what I was doing, but not in the same way I can now. That has come about only through a lot of hard work on my part and staying engaged with my life as a creative person.
Shelly asked me to talk about how my career has grown and how I've come to where I am now. This particular session focused on building an artist resumé. I talked about how I got started showing (cafés and bookstores) and how one thing led to another through my entering various juried exhibitions and other competitions, including the Fleisher Challenge and having my work published in New American Paintings.
When Shelly asked me to talk to her students, I was flattered and nervous at the same time. I've spoken to students in my studio, but this was the first time I was going to speak in a classroom. I was out of my home base and wondered if I could still do what I needed to. The experience was good. I was nervous and it helped that I was sitting in a chair at the front of the class next to Shelly. I felt like I had something to ground me a little. It was a bit intimidating sitting there with all of these expectant eyes on me, waiting for whatever 'wisdom' I had to impart.
Even though I've come to a point in my career where I can speak somewhat authoritively about what I've done and been through as an artist, there was still that sense of 'what the hell am I doing?' while speaking? I tried to make sure I made as much sense as possible, and not stray too far from the topic at hand. The thing that helped me the most was that over the years, I've gotten better at talking about my work as an artist. At one point in the class, Shelly asked me if this was ten years ago, would I have been able to talk about my work in the same way as I can now. The answer was obviously 'no'. Sure, I might have been able to speak about what I was doing, but not in the same way I can now. That has come about only through a lot of hard work on my part and staying engaged with my life as a creative person.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Exhibition pics
A few installation shots of my exhibition at the Bridgette Mayer Gallery can be seen here
 | logical progression1 From the gallery door |
Friday, September 09, 2005
good news to wake up to
I received an email from Vince this morning congratulating me for having a good review in the Philadelphia Inquirer. Of course, that meant throwing on the first shirt and pair of shorts I could lay my hands on and running to the corner to grab a paper.
Here's the link:
Philadelphia Inquirer review
Full text:
Abstract urbanism
While remaining primarily abstract, Tim McFarlane's
new paintings at the Bridgette Mayer Gallery have
moved away from the scheme of stripes and color blocks
that characterized his previous exhibition.
The new paintings, which are more gestural and look
more improvisational, create a distinctive mood of
urban complexity. Their architecture, based on
irregular, freehand grids that look like ladders or
street plans, is more fluid and spirited.
McFarlane prefers high-voltage color, so much so that
even his whites are dazzling. Strong colors, combined
with layering of the "ladder" shapes, produces a
visual metaphor for high-density urban synergy.
This effect comes across powerfully in paintings such
as Burst, dominated by intense red, yellow and orange,
and Folding in on History, in which a white top layer
pushes toward the viewer.
The complexity of McFarlane's paintings, all acrylics
on canvas, is further magnified by their transparency.
Although most are several layers deep, one can see
through the grids and "ladders" all the way to the
bottom of the stacks. This produces a lively
counterpoint between airiness and structure akin to
the most imaginative jazz improvisation.
-Edward Sozanski
Philadelphia Inquirer Art Critic
Here's the link:
Philadelphia Inquirer review
Full text:
Abstract urbanism
While remaining primarily abstract, Tim McFarlane's
new paintings at the Bridgette Mayer Gallery have
moved away from the scheme of stripes and color blocks
that characterized his previous exhibition.
The new paintings, which are more gestural and look
more improvisational, create a distinctive mood of
urban complexity. Their architecture, based on
irregular, freehand grids that look like ladders or
street plans, is more fluid and spirited.
McFarlane prefers high-voltage color, so much so that
even his whites are dazzling. Strong colors, combined
with layering of the "ladder" shapes, produces a
visual metaphor for high-density urban synergy.
This effect comes across powerfully in paintings such
as Burst, dominated by intense red, yellow and orange,
and Folding in on History, in which a white top layer
pushes toward the viewer.
The complexity of McFarlane's paintings, all acrylics
on canvas, is further magnified by their transparency.
Although most are several layers deep, one can see
through the grids and "ladders" all the way to the
bottom of the stacks. This produces a lively
counterpoint between airiness and structure akin to
the most imaginative jazz improvisation.
-Edward Sozanski
Philadelphia Inquirer Art Critic
Monday, September 05, 2005
A good time
Friday's opening reception was great. I couldn't have asked for a better turnout. I arrived an hour early but by the 'official' time at 6pm, things were on a roll and didn't stop until the very last minute. People came and went but a lot hung out for a good while, despite the heat generated by so many bodies in the small space of the gallery. I was concerned beforehand about how many people might actually show up because of it being a holiday weekend, the Live Arts/Fringe festival starting and a number of other gallery openings going on at the same time as mine. Turns out I certainly didn't have to worry about attendance after all.
There was quite a bit of surprise from people who hadn't seen the new work. I received a lot of great comments about the paintings from people who know me and those that didn't, which is usually a good sign. Managed to sell one painting that night and there are hint of more sales coming. We'll see what happens. The review in the Philadelphia Weekly seemed to generate a lot of interest, also. It was interesting attempting to carry on three conversations at once.
Now that the opening is over with, I'm returning to studio mode. I have a commission to work on over the next couple of weeks and I'm gearing up for October, which is going to be a really busy month. There's the show at Gallery Siano that I'm a part of. I'm on a jury panel at the Bryn Mawr Rehab Hospital for their annual 'Art Ability' show. It's an international exhibit of artwork by artists with disabililties. Next up on the 15th and 16th, is the Philadelphia Open Studio Tour. Then, on the last week of October, I'll have work up at the Affordable Art Fair in New York. My work was chosen, along with that of nine other artists from the gallery, to be shown in the booth there.
There's nothing past the end of October coming up, but I'm hoping to have my work in shows outside of Philly next year. Besides that, I'm bursting at the seams with new ideas for paintings, so if nothing else, I'll keep myself busy during the winter.
There was quite a bit of surprise from people who hadn't seen the new work. I received a lot of great comments about the paintings from people who know me and those that didn't, which is usually a good sign. Managed to sell one painting that night and there are hint of more sales coming. We'll see what happens. The review in the Philadelphia Weekly seemed to generate a lot of interest, also. It was interesting attempting to carry on three conversations at once.
Now that the opening is over with, I'm returning to studio mode. I have a commission to work on over the next couple of weeks and I'm gearing up for October, which is going to be a really busy month. There's the show at Gallery Siano that I'm a part of. I'm on a jury panel at the Bryn Mawr Rehab Hospital for their annual 'Art Ability' show. It's an international exhibit of artwork by artists with disabililties. Next up on the 15th and 16th, is the Philadelphia Open Studio Tour. Then, on the last week of October, I'll have work up at the Affordable Art Fair in New York. My work was chosen, along with that of nine other artists from the gallery, to be shown in the booth there.
There's nothing past the end of October coming up, but I'm hoping to have my work in shows outside of Philly next year. Besides that, I'm bursting at the seams with new ideas for paintings, so if nothing else, I'll keep myself busy during the winter.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
exhibition review
The first review of my exhibition is out and the word is very good :) It's by Roberta Fallon, who writes for the Philadelpha Weekly. The same review appears on the Weekly's website and on Fallon's and Libby Rosof's Artblog.
The full review text is below:
Tim McFarlane: Logical Progression
Ebullient is the word for Tim McFarlane's new paintings at Bridgette Mayer Gallery. Jazzy abstract compositions of bright-colored ladders thrusting this way and that, McFarlane's new square-format acrylics are a symbolic expression of urban space and community. Unlike the striped walls, exquisite sky and mathematical precision of his first solo with Mayer, here the artist has lost the precision and the muted colors. He's in dreamy fly-over mode where everything floats by and you're looking down from your perch in the clouds. Bridges, buildings, roads, playgrounds-all suggested by the layered ladder forms-stream by in rhythms that evoke the flow of a river.
Also hinted at, and this is consistent with the artist's previous works, is the ebb and flow of humanity-cities crowded with people of all shapes, sizes, colors. But the message is one of togetherness, respect, coexistence and even playful snuggling. McFarlane's ratcheted up his palette into the neighborhood where Faith Ringgold, Andy Warhol and Sol LeWitt live. These are beautiful works. The show's titled "Logical Progression," and the work is that. But it's also a bold move into riskier territory by a painter who deserves a Pew, dammit.
Fri., Sept. 2, 6-8:30pm. Free. Through Sept. 24. Bridgette Mayer Gallery, 709 Walnut St., first fl. 215.413.8893.
The full review text is below:
Tim McFarlane: Logical Progression
Ebullient is the word for Tim McFarlane's new paintings at Bridgette Mayer Gallery. Jazzy abstract compositions of bright-colored ladders thrusting this way and that, McFarlane's new square-format acrylics are a symbolic expression of urban space and community. Unlike the striped walls, exquisite sky and mathematical precision of his first solo with Mayer, here the artist has lost the precision and the muted colors. He's in dreamy fly-over mode where everything floats by and you're looking down from your perch in the clouds. Bridges, buildings, roads, playgrounds-all suggested by the layered ladder forms-stream by in rhythms that evoke the flow of a river.
Also hinted at, and this is consistent with the artist's previous works, is the ebb and flow of humanity-cities crowded with people of all shapes, sizes, colors. But the message is one of togetherness, respect, coexistence and even playful snuggling. McFarlane's ratcheted up his palette into the neighborhood where Faith Ringgold, Andy Warhol and Sol LeWitt live. These are beautiful works. The show's titled "Logical Progression," and the work is that. But it's also a bold move into riskier territory by a painter who deserves a Pew, dammit.
Fri., Sept. 2, 6-8:30pm. Free. Through Sept. 24. Bridgette Mayer Gallery, 709 Walnut St., first fl. 215.413.8893.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Done! (for now)
The paintings are hung and they look great in the space. The whole afternoon went by in a flash. It took all of two hours to make decisions about which works were going to actually be in the exhibition and which ones wouldn't and where to place the remaining pieces. Bridgette and I were surprised by how quickly the installation went. I thought we'd be there well into the evening. Happily, that wasn't the case. I guess the toughest part was choosing which paintings to hang next to each other. It was like playing 'musical paintings' or something; shuffling paintings from one place to another in attempts to come up with the best combinations.
I was happy that everything was done, but too tired to show any real excitement. That came from not getting enough sleep last night. I had some last-minute painting to do on the edges of some paintings and had this elaborate plan to get up around 5:30 this morning. I planned it that way because I was having someone meet me with a van at 10:30am to help deliver the works. I needed some time to make sure everything dried in time. Well, my alarm clock went off on time and I slept for another hour and another until I finally got up sometime close to 8am. Went up to the studio, did what I had to do, and still had time to spare. I really wished that I hadn't been so paranoid about it, but I'd rather be safe than sorry and lose a little sleep.
......
I'm experiencing a mixture of excitement, dread, and relief at the same time. I'm happy with the work and I'm glad everything went as smoothly as it did. However, now comes the time that other people will see these works for the first time in person. I've been living with them for nine months, more if you count the amount of time I had the ideas swirling around in my head before I began painting this series last November. The thing is, the show is up and I can breathe a sigh of relief and take it easy for a couple of days, at least. There's still more to do, but that's mainly in the way of continuing to get the word out about the show. I grabbed a huge pile of postcards to hand out before leaving the gallery. I'll probably run through them in no time. The main mailing is done, so I can go crazy with handing them out.
......
This show is happening at a significant time for me because I feel like there's real potential for continued exploration with the new images and ideas. The last show was the culmination of four years of working within a particular set of ideas. This time, instead of wondering what to do next, I have a whole new set of artistic challenges ahead of me that I want to explore right away. I'm not taking a break from painting after the opening reception like I did last year. There are simply too many ideas swirling around in my head right now to let slip by or rot away.
I was happy that everything was done, but too tired to show any real excitement. That came from not getting enough sleep last night. I had some last-minute painting to do on the edges of some paintings and had this elaborate plan to get up around 5:30 this morning. I planned it that way because I was having someone meet me with a van at 10:30am to help deliver the works. I needed some time to make sure everything dried in time. Well, my alarm clock went off on time and I slept for another hour and another until I finally got up sometime close to 8am. Went up to the studio, did what I had to do, and still had time to spare. I really wished that I hadn't been so paranoid about it, but I'd rather be safe than sorry and lose a little sleep.
......
I'm experiencing a mixture of excitement, dread, and relief at the same time. I'm happy with the work and I'm glad everything went as smoothly as it did. However, now comes the time that other people will see these works for the first time in person. I've been living with them for nine months, more if you count the amount of time I had the ideas swirling around in my head before I began painting this series last November. The thing is, the show is up and I can breathe a sigh of relief and take it easy for a couple of days, at least. There's still more to do, but that's mainly in the way of continuing to get the word out about the show. I grabbed a huge pile of postcards to hand out before leaving the gallery. I'll probably run through them in no time. The main mailing is done, so I can go crazy with handing them out.
......
This show is happening at a significant time for me because I feel like there's real potential for continued exploration with the new images and ideas. The last show was the culmination of four years of working within a particular set of ideas. This time, instead of wondering what to do next, I have a whole new set of artistic challenges ahead of me that I want to explore right away. I'm not taking a break from painting after the opening reception like I did last year. There are simply too many ideas swirling around in my head right now to let slip by or rot away.
Friday, August 19, 2005
closer
I'm in the final stages of exhibition prep-work. The only thing I had to do today was to attach hardware to the back of several canvases for hanging and make a list of the works I'm delivering to the gallery on Monday morning. There are 21 paintings and 6 works on paper that will be considered for the show.
The space at the gallery isn't big enough for all 21 paintings to hang at once, so Bridgette and I will be doing some 'pruning'. I have more in the way of larger works this time and I'm hoping to get most of them up. The only thing I can do now is wait and see what happens on Monday.
......
In addition to adding the hardware and making the list, I had to title a couple of the latest paintings I'd finished. I sat around for a good 45 minutes before coming up with a title for one of them. I don't like leaving works untitled because after a while, I don't have a way of recalling which ones are which. Giving them a title mainly acts as a way for me to keep track of them. Sometimes, the images beg for a written/verbal identity and I can make up a title easily. Others are much harder. When I'm painting, I'm more interested in what's going on with the images and how the work is developing. Titles are the last thing on my mind most of the time.
I have made a habit of writing down words and phrases that appeal to me in my sketchbook for later use. That's come in handy a few times because I've had too many moments of coming up with a great title only to forget it in the next second. Write it down, write it down, write it down...
The space at the gallery isn't big enough for all 21 paintings to hang at once, so Bridgette and I will be doing some 'pruning'. I have more in the way of larger works this time and I'm hoping to get most of them up. The only thing I can do now is wait and see what happens on Monday.
......
In addition to adding the hardware and making the list, I had to title a couple of the latest paintings I'd finished. I sat around for a good 45 minutes before coming up with a title for one of them. I don't like leaving works untitled because after a while, I don't have a way of recalling which ones are which. Giving them a title mainly acts as a way for me to keep track of them. Sometimes, the images beg for a written/verbal identity and I can make up a title easily. Others are much harder. When I'm painting, I'm more interested in what's going on with the images and how the work is developing. Titles are the last thing on my mind most of the time.
I have made a habit of writing down words and phrases that appeal to me in my sketchbook for later use. That's come in handy a few times because I've had too many moments of coming up with a great title only to forget it in the next second. Write it down, write it down, write it down...
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Update
The video shoot from last week went pretty well. I haven't seen it yet. I don't know if it's edited yet or not. It was hot as hell in the studio. Unfortunately, we had to turn off the fans so the camera mic wouldn't pick up the noise from the fans.
I was debating about what to wear, but wound up remaining in my tank-top and shorts that I use for painting in. I saw a video still (below) of the shoot and wasn't sure about my choice, but, whatever. I'm not really that worried about it. I mean, it is what I wear when I'm working and this is a video of me in the studio talking about my work, so why not look how I normally do?
.....
I've begun giving out some of the show brochures and the response to the images have been really positive. The postcards have been arriving at their destinations, also a good thing. The items that remain to be taken care of are:
1. Adding the wire and hanging hardware to the paintings
2. Making up titles for some recent paintings
3. Getting the paintings to the gallery (Monday), an issue that is taken care of, courtesy of Deb and Allen. Thanks guys!!!
I was debating about what to wear, but wound up remaining in my tank-top and shorts that I use for painting in. I saw a video still (below) of the shoot and wasn't sure about my choice, but, whatever. I'm not really that worried about it. I mean, it is what I wear when I'm working and this is a video of me in the studio talking about my work, so why not look how I normally do?
.....
I've begun giving out some of the show brochures and the response to the images have been really positive. The postcards have been arriving at their destinations, also a good thing. The items that remain to be taken care of are:
1. Adding the wire and hanging hardware to the paintings
2. Making up titles for some recent paintings
3. Getting the paintings to the gallery (Monday), an issue that is taken care of, courtesy of Deb and Allen. Thanks guys!!!
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Green
Green has been on my mind for a while now. I don't really know why, but it has. It's one of the colors I gravitated towards a lot when working on my latest paintings. Even though I'm a city person, born and bred, I love the outdoors. I've been so busy this summer that I haven't spent much time out in nature. Nevertheless, the green thing has been nagging at me for a while, just sitting at the back of my mind and poking me every once in a while. I came across this photo by German artist, Thomas Demand in the latest issue of Adbusters magazine.
Thomas Demand's work process is exacting and encompasses sculpture and photography. He builds life-sized enviornments almost entirely out of paper and then photographs them. The resulting photos are themselves printed on a life-size acale. The scenes, like the one I linked to, appear life-like at first glance, but closer inspection will reveal many small, but important details that may be missing or that clue you into what he's actually done. For example, with The Clearing, Demand made every leaf out of paper. He's done other interior/exterior scenes which also play around with perceptions of reality and the manufactured image, which sits well within the contemporary art world's obsession with irony, but that's a whole other thing I don't want to get into here.
Demand's photograph, in addition to the journal change combined to set off the spark for what I think will be a new series of paintings. All I know right now is that the color green and as many variants as I can come up with combined with other colors is going to play a prominent role. Some will be more monochromatic and others less so, I think. I was also was working on a crossword puzzle which had as a clue, "like many rain forests". The answer was 'lush'.
This is just the bare surface of an idea. I'll see where it goes from here. I'll have to file it with 'proposed projects' right behind the ten other ideas I have brewing in my head. There's just not enough time...
......
Received some good news from Bridgette today. The postcards for my exhibition have begun to arrive in the mail and so far, the feedback has been good. One of her clients was interested in the painting on the cover of the postcard, Logical Progression (also the title of the exhibition), below. However, he doesn't have space for it (it measures 36"x36") and wants to commission a smaller version of it. Bridgette told him before even calling me that the resulting painting won't look like this painting. It was done fairly early in the series and even though only three months seperate that the newer paintings from this one, they've evolved past the stage I left this one in.
Anyway, Bridgette and I talked about it and I thought it would be an interesting challenge to undertake. I had it in my mind to do more like Logical Progression, but wound up moving into new territory before I could pursue the idea any further. The main idea was to have mulitple grid structures dropping down from the upper edge of the canvas, flowing over each other and taking over the canvas surface. This was actually the second version of this idea. The later paintings have a less rigid line quality to them. There's still the grid, but it's morphed into something more organic looking in more recent paintings.
He only wants one, but I'm thinking I'll do two, maybe three, just to see where I can take the idea. The client is puttng up a non-refundable chunk of the cost up front and I should have it by the end of this week. A good thing, since I'll be able to use that exclusively for materials and not have to use my own money for it.
Tim McFarlane
Logical Progression
2005
acrylic on canvas
36"x36"
Thomas Demand's work process is exacting and encompasses sculpture and photography. He builds life-sized enviornments almost entirely out of paper and then photographs them. The resulting photos are themselves printed on a life-size acale. The scenes, like the one I linked to, appear life-like at first glance, but closer inspection will reveal many small, but important details that may be missing or that clue you into what he's actually done. For example, with The Clearing, Demand made every leaf out of paper. He's done other interior/exterior scenes which also play around with perceptions of reality and the manufactured image, which sits well within the contemporary art world's obsession with irony, but that's a whole other thing I don't want to get into here.
Demand's photograph, in addition to the journal change combined to set off the spark for what I think will be a new series of paintings. All I know right now is that the color green and as many variants as I can come up with combined with other colors is going to play a prominent role. Some will be more monochromatic and others less so, I think. I was also was working on a crossword puzzle which had as a clue, "like many rain forests". The answer was 'lush'.
This is just the bare surface of an idea. I'll see where it goes from here. I'll have to file it with 'proposed projects' right behind the ten other ideas I have brewing in my head. There's just not enough time...
......
Received some good news from Bridgette today. The postcards for my exhibition have begun to arrive in the mail and so far, the feedback has been good. One of her clients was interested in the painting on the cover of the postcard, Logical Progression (also the title of the exhibition), below. However, he doesn't have space for it (it measures 36"x36") and wants to commission a smaller version of it. Bridgette told him before even calling me that the resulting painting won't look like this painting. It was done fairly early in the series and even though only three months seperate that the newer paintings from this one, they've evolved past the stage I left this one in.
Anyway, Bridgette and I talked about it and I thought it would be an interesting challenge to undertake. I had it in my mind to do more like Logical Progression, but wound up moving into new territory before I could pursue the idea any further. The main idea was to have mulitple grid structures dropping down from the upper edge of the canvas, flowing over each other and taking over the canvas surface. This was actually the second version of this idea. The later paintings have a less rigid line quality to them. There's still the grid, but it's morphed into something more organic looking in more recent paintings.
He only wants one, but I'm thinking I'll do two, maybe three, just to see where I can take the idea. The client is puttng up a non-refundable chunk of the cost up front and I should have it by the end of this week. A good thing, since I'll be able to use that exclusively for materials and not have to use my own money for it.
Tim McFarlane
Logical Progression
2005
acrylic on canvas
36"x36"
Thursday, August 11, 2005
now you see me...
Alright, so tomorrow, or rather, later this morning, I'm doing a video shoot at my studio. The resulting dvd will be played at the opening reception for my exhibition(scroll down) in the fall. Until yesterday, I had nothing written down about what I wanted to say. I've been thinking about the work for months now, as I've been creating it. I've also been documenting my thoughts here as well. By now, I have a pretty good idea of what I want to talk about. My gallerist, Bridgette, felt that it would be good to write down some thoughts and questions just so I have an idea of what I wanted to say in a coherent manner. I agreed to do it, but couldn't really focus on writing it until yesterday and it was a few weeks ago that she brought it up.
In that time, however, I was able to run different ideas through my head, study the paintings I've done, and in less than an hour, came up with four main talking points that could have been expanded into more. I do want to keep it somewhat brief and digestible; there's nothing worse than an artist rambling on and on about this idea and that when on film. I just want to make sure my ideas come across in a clear, meaningful way.
Visual art has many layers and filters, but the main one I'm engaged in for this project is artwork-viewer-artist. I'm going with this order because most viewers of art interact with the art object and, in most cases, never meet the artist (I'm confining this to living artists for the sake of simplicity). The video will give the public a chance to see a layer in the art process that few have the opportunity to witness, that of the me discussing my work in the place the paintings were made: the studio. I think most people don't really know or understand what goes on before they see the work in a public or private space. As tenuous a connection a video of me talking about the work is, it can go a long way towards educating the public and helping them gain a better understanding of the creative urge and process.
Now, if I can figure out what to wear. Well, I know I'll have to wear something black...so people know that I'm a serious artist ;P
In that time, however, I was able to run different ideas through my head, study the paintings I've done, and in less than an hour, came up with four main talking points that could have been expanded into more. I do want to keep it somewhat brief and digestible; there's nothing worse than an artist rambling on and on about this idea and that when on film. I just want to make sure my ideas come across in a clear, meaningful way.
Visual art has many layers and filters, but the main one I'm engaged in for this project is artwork-viewer-artist. I'm going with this order because most viewers of art interact with the art object and, in most cases, never meet the artist (I'm confining this to living artists for the sake of simplicity). The video will give the public a chance to see a layer in the art process that few have the opportunity to witness, that of the me discussing my work in the place the paintings were made: the studio. I think most people don't really know or understand what goes on before they see the work in a public or private space. As tenuous a connection a video of me talking about the work is, it can go a long way towards educating the public and helping them gain a better understanding of the creative urge and process.
Now, if I can figure out what to wear. Well, I know I'll have to wear something black...so people know that I'm a serious artist ;P
Thursday, August 04, 2005
searching
"I have forced myself to contradict myself in order to avoid conforming
to my own taste." - Marcel Duchamp
I love this quote. It epitomizes a large aspect of my creative practice. That is, I'm constantly challenging myself to push ahead with my work. The reason I do so is to keep from feeling like I'm repeating myself and allowing my painting to become too 'easy'. The moment I find myself not being challenged somehow by an idea or series I'm working on, I'm off trying to find some way to throw a monkey wrench in the works. Not to mess things up just for the sake of it, but to see what else I can do to keep my art relevant and meaningful to me.
One of the things I like to do while painting is to turn it over so that the image that was right-side up is now reversed. That, or I'll rotate it and look at it from all four sides to see if there is a more interesting composition emerging. I'll do this several times, even after I've 'finished' the piece, just to make sure it feels right in it's final orientation.
to my own taste." - Marcel Duchamp
I love this quote. It epitomizes a large aspect of my creative practice. That is, I'm constantly challenging myself to push ahead with my work. The reason I do so is to keep from feeling like I'm repeating myself and allowing my painting to become too 'easy'. The moment I find myself not being challenged somehow by an idea or series I'm working on, I'm off trying to find some way to throw a monkey wrench in the works. Not to mess things up just for the sake of it, but to see what else I can do to keep my art relevant and meaningful to me.
One of the things I like to do while painting is to turn it over so that the image that was right-side up is now reversed. That, or I'll rotate it and look at it from all four sides to see if there is a more interesting composition emerging. I'll do this several times, even after I've 'finished' the piece, just to make sure it feels right in it's final orientation.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Transitional connections
Checked out You, Me, and Everyone We Know last night. It's a small, quiet film centered around relationships and transition. It takes place during a time of major and minor upheavals in the lives of most of the characters.The film seems to exist neither here nor there but somewhere in between. By the end, there are revelations but not much in the way of resolution; the future is an open book for these characters. It's very 'artsy', which is no surprise since it's written and directied by Miranda July, a performance artist and filmmaker. Her take on what some artists go through with their work and getting it recognized is fairly dead on. This is the first non mainstream summer movie I've seen this year and I'm glad I took the time to take a break from the usual brain candy.
......
I felt a connection with the transitional aspect of You, Me,... as it relates to one of the foundations of my artwork. I began using abstract imagery years because I wanted to explore a similar ambuguity. I needed to use imagery that was not recognizably 'this' or 'that' but existed someplace in between. It was the logical thing for me to do in adopting a visual vocabulary that went beyond the established symbolic meanings associated with representational images or objects. Abstraction or Non-Objectivity freed me from the constraints of meanings readily placed on recognizable subjects; I was now able to construct images that could possibly have infinite levels of meaning for viewers.
......
What does it mean to have an image exist 'in between'? In between what? In between where?
At the end of a long work day, my mind rapidly begins to 'empty out'; it starts to drift and wander here and there. I'm well aware of my surroundings, but I'm also turning inward a little. As my mind quiets down from the overstimulation and demands of work, I begin to hear my own footsteps as if for the first time. I'll slow down and think about things such as all of the minute and grand things that are taking place as I take each step. Not only that, but what's happening as my other foot is making the move forward-the heel of my sneaker rising, my foot arching, the heel touching ground again. How much do you think has happened in those couple of moments? All over the world, trillions upon trillions of events have taken place and we are only consciously aware of a tiny fraction of them.
Any event I might think of as 'in between' really isn't really that at all. I think it's nearly impossible to define what's 'in between'. So why try to capture it at all if it really can't (as far as I know) be captured at all. There's the quandry-how do you capture something you aren't even sure exists? Especially with a static medium like paint on canvas. Can it even be defined as an image, sound, or combnination thereof? Who knows? Maybe...However, that leaves me with one thing: the challenge of the chase. I know I'll never really capture or own 'in between' in any manner whatsoever, but I can use my limited understanding of it, along with what I know of my interactions with my surroundings to construct a visual narrative. Thinking back over the years of work I've done, I've always returned again and again to various incarnations of my fascination with the spaces between things, places and events.
......
Spent some time painting today. I can't say I had the best concentration. I had to take care of some pre-show stuff which included dropping off drawings at Seven Arts framing. Bridgette's going to pick them up on Saturday, Aug. 20th. We also set an installation date: Monday, August 22nd. The show opens on Wednesday, August 31st and the reception is on Friday, Sept. 3rd. I'll go in and work some more tomorrow evening.
......
I felt a connection with the transitional aspect of You, Me,... as it relates to one of the foundations of my artwork. I began using abstract imagery years because I wanted to explore a similar ambuguity. I needed to use imagery that was not recognizably 'this' or 'that' but existed someplace in between. It was the logical thing for me to do in adopting a visual vocabulary that went beyond the established symbolic meanings associated with representational images or objects. Abstraction or Non-Objectivity freed me from the constraints of meanings readily placed on recognizable subjects; I was now able to construct images that could possibly have infinite levels of meaning for viewers.
......
What does it mean to have an image exist 'in between'? In between what? In between where?
At the end of a long work day, my mind rapidly begins to 'empty out'; it starts to drift and wander here and there. I'm well aware of my surroundings, but I'm also turning inward a little. As my mind quiets down from the overstimulation and demands of work, I begin to hear my own footsteps as if for the first time. I'll slow down and think about things such as all of the minute and grand things that are taking place as I take each step. Not only that, but what's happening as my other foot is making the move forward-the heel of my sneaker rising, my foot arching, the heel touching ground again. How much do you think has happened in those couple of moments? All over the world, trillions upon trillions of events have taken place and we are only consciously aware of a tiny fraction of them.
Any event I might think of as 'in between' really isn't really that at all. I think it's nearly impossible to define what's 'in between'. So why try to capture it at all if it really can't (as far as I know) be captured at all. There's the quandry-how do you capture something you aren't even sure exists? Especially with a static medium like paint on canvas. Can it even be defined as an image, sound, or combnination thereof? Who knows? Maybe...However, that leaves me with one thing: the challenge of the chase. I know I'll never really capture or own 'in between' in any manner whatsoever, but I can use my limited understanding of it, along with what I know of my interactions with my surroundings to construct a visual narrative. Thinking back over the years of work I've done, I've always returned again and again to various incarnations of my fascination with the spaces between things, places and events.
......
Spent some time painting today. I can't say I had the best concentration. I had to take care of some pre-show stuff which included dropping off drawings at Seven Arts framing. Bridgette's going to pick them up on Saturday, Aug. 20th. We also set an installation date: Monday, August 22nd. The show opens on Wednesday, August 31st and the reception is on Friday, Sept. 3rd. I'll go in and work some more tomorrow evening.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
On the needs of visual artists
I was catching up on my art blogs today and came across an entry on Roberta Fallon and Libby Rosof's Artblog that caught my eye. The post is from sculptor, Charles Hankin and is titled "On The Needs of Visual Artists". Just scroll down the page a bit to see it. The following is my reply:
......
I agree with a lot of what sculptor Charles Hankin wrote in his entry. Particularly the part about artists advocating on behalf of themselves and the arts:"We need to teach our friends, family and neighbors about art and why we are important creators. Respect for art will come from personal relationships not from an Arts Council or other government agency.
I couldn't agree more. It begins with how we view ourselves, what we do and how we present it to the outside world. I think a lot of visual artists tend to downplay what it is they actively do with most of their time. Most of us have day jobs to make ends meet, myself included. However, when someone asks me, "What do you do?", in reference to occupation, I always respond with "I'm a painter". Period. Inevitably, the question of how I support myself and my work comes up and I'll tell them that I have a job, but my main occupation is that of a painter. To me, this simple declaration puts me in a better position to be taken seriously. Not only that, I tend to take myself more seriously as a creative person.
I think a lot of us shy away from making distinct declarations because of a misguided idea that it's somehow not good to speak highly of what we do as creative people. Perhaps that is because the fine arts have some to be so devalued in our society that, for some, it's almost a stigma to mention they are an artist of some type. Maybe there are flashbacks to a childhood where parents and others made it known that pursuing the fine arts wasn't an 'appropriate', i.e. 'lucrative' or of a high enough status. That's nothing new, as it's been going on for centuries, but this attitude still defines how many of us approach our relation to the world outside of art.
Another important aspect is to speak about art and what we do in a way that viewers/participants can make connections with thier experiences in the world. That's key. If you can talk to someone who perhaps has no background in art history and get them to see connections with what you are doing with your work and the world around them, then half the battle is won, I think. This is particularly important when it comes to abstract painting, video, or installation work.
People do want to know who we are and what we do, but we have to be willing to give a little more, sometimes. We must seriously believe that what we are doing is vital to everyone, bring that messege to people in ways that inspire them, and most importantly, continue to challenge ourselves as artists, keep making the work and put it out in the world for others to experience.
......
I agree with a lot of what sculptor Charles Hankin wrote in his entry. Particularly the part about artists advocating on behalf of themselves and the arts:"We need to teach our friends, family and neighbors about art and why we are important creators. Respect for art will come from personal relationships not from an Arts Council or other government agency.
I couldn't agree more. It begins with how we view ourselves, what we do and how we present it to the outside world. I think a lot of visual artists tend to downplay what it is they actively do with most of their time. Most of us have day jobs to make ends meet, myself included. However, when someone asks me, "What do you do?", in reference to occupation, I always respond with "I'm a painter". Period. Inevitably, the question of how I support myself and my work comes up and I'll tell them that I have a job, but my main occupation is that of a painter. To me, this simple declaration puts me in a better position to be taken seriously. Not only that, I tend to take myself more seriously as a creative person.
I think a lot of us shy away from making distinct declarations because of a misguided idea that it's somehow not good to speak highly of what we do as creative people. Perhaps that is because the fine arts have some to be so devalued in our society that, for some, it's almost a stigma to mention they are an artist of some type. Maybe there are flashbacks to a childhood where parents and others made it known that pursuing the fine arts wasn't an 'appropriate', i.e. 'lucrative' or of a high enough status. That's nothing new, as it's been going on for centuries, but this attitude still defines how many of us approach our relation to the world outside of art.
Another important aspect is to speak about art and what we do in a way that viewers/participants can make connections with thier experiences in the world. That's key. If you can talk to someone who perhaps has no background in art history and get them to see connections with what you are doing with your work and the world around them, then half the battle is won, I think. This is particularly important when it comes to abstract painting, video, or installation work.
People do want to know who we are and what we do, but we have to be willing to give a little more, sometimes. We must seriously believe that what we are doing is vital to everyone, bring that messege to people in ways that inspire them, and most importantly, continue to challenge ourselves as artists, keep making the work and put it out in the world for others to experience.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
getting there...
Received a pdf file with the proof of the exhibition brochure. There were a few corrections that needed to be made, but overall it looks great. I'm looking forward to seeing the final printed version.
......
Didn't get a lot of painting done last week, but I plan on making up for it this week. I have a meeting with Bridgette on Thursday to discuss which of the second batch of newer works I should have photographed. There's a bunch of paintings she hasn't seen yet.
......
This fall is going to be a busy one. First, there's the show in September. Then, on October 12th, I'm on the jurying panel for an international exhibition of disbled artists at Bryn Mawr Rehab Hospital. The show is called, 'Art Ability'. The weekend of October 15th/16th I'm doing the Philadelphia Open Studio Tours. Finally, at the end of the month, I'm going to have work included in Bridgette's booth at the 'Affordable Art Fair' in New York. I'm planning on being there for at least one of the days. There are a couple of friend's places I could stay while there, which is good.
......
Didn't get a lot of painting done last week, but I plan on making up for it this week. I have a meeting with Bridgette on Thursday to discuss which of the second batch of newer works I should have photographed. There's a bunch of paintings she hasn't seen yet.
......
This fall is going to be a busy one. First, there's the show in September. Then, on October 12th, I'm on the jurying panel for an international exhibition of disbled artists at Bryn Mawr Rehab Hospital. The show is called, 'Art Ability'. The weekend of October 15th/16th I'm doing the Philadelphia Open Studio Tours. Finally, at the end of the month, I'm going to have work included in Bridgette's booth at the 'Affordable Art Fair' in New York. I'm planning on being there for at least one of the days. There are a couple of friend's places I could stay while there, which is good.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
upside down in reverse
I walked into the studio just behind Gabrielle, who shares the front half of the floor with me. It's stifling hot. One of the first things both of us do is head over to open the window and doors to the fire escape. I turn on the industrial fan just before opening the window. I'm sweating buckets from the bike ride up there and there's a part of me that just wants to flop down on the couch for half an hour just to cool down, but I'm also hyped to get to work.
Gabby and I catch up on how our weekends went, I change into my painting shorts and shirt, put some music on and set up to paint. Waiting for me are two paintings I began last week. Both are in for some changes. I like some of what I did, but they don't quite feel done yet, so I study them for a while, trying to figure out what needs to change and what possible directions I can take them next. I like the look of some of the colors and forms together, but the parts aren't adding up to a whole yet.
Over the past few months, I've been challenging myself to push past what I was doing last year and the three years before that. Mainly, this means embracing a wider range of mark-making and color choices. All of which I'm very happy to do. However, there's the issue of getting what's inside of my head onto the canvas. I'm continuing with pictorial ideas that include various gridded forms placed in front of one another. There's ten or so paintings on the wall behind the easel that I'm constantly refering to for ideas to use in the newer paintings. I use the older paintings to jump start the newer pieces. I look a them and mentally pick them apart to see what I can use and if I can use some of the older ideas in a different way.
There's a constant dialogue between the newer paintings and the older ones. I try to not repeat myself too much and attempt to find any way I can to break apart what I did previously and re-make it in new ways. That's one of the biggest challenges I have as a painter; how many ways can I take a core idea and re-invent it from painting to painting until I feel it's potential is exhausted? The experimentation is great, but the paintings have to stand up on thier own. The ideas contained on the surfaces must be clear, even if they don't seem to be so upon the first viewing.
The paintings I worked on today are causing me to reconsider some ideas I have about a 'finished' composition. The forms I'm using now are much more open than previously and much less centered in place; lines and colors are moving all over the place. I let some areas build up with an accumulation of marks while others are flat and let the eye rest a bit before being taken up into more activity. The flow of information is continual and the possibilities seemingly endless. Through this process, I'm trying to let go of a default painting ideology I accumulated over the past few years and embrace more readily the open-ended spirit of the new paintings.
Gabby and I catch up on how our weekends went, I change into my painting shorts and shirt, put some music on and set up to paint. Waiting for me are two paintings I began last week. Both are in for some changes. I like some of what I did, but they don't quite feel done yet, so I study them for a while, trying to figure out what needs to change and what possible directions I can take them next. I like the look of some of the colors and forms together, but the parts aren't adding up to a whole yet.
Over the past few months, I've been challenging myself to push past what I was doing last year and the three years before that. Mainly, this means embracing a wider range of mark-making and color choices. All of which I'm very happy to do. However, there's the issue of getting what's inside of my head onto the canvas. I'm continuing with pictorial ideas that include various gridded forms placed in front of one another. There's ten or so paintings on the wall behind the easel that I'm constantly refering to for ideas to use in the newer paintings. I use the older paintings to jump start the newer pieces. I look a them and mentally pick them apart to see what I can use and if I can use some of the older ideas in a different way.
There's a constant dialogue between the newer paintings and the older ones. I try to not repeat myself too much and attempt to find any way I can to break apart what I did previously and re-make it in new ways. That's one of the biggest challenges I have as a painter; how many ways can I take a core idea and re-invent it from painting to painting until I feel it's potential is exhausted? The experimentation is great, but the paintings have to stand up on thier own. The ideas contained on the surfaces must be clear, even if they don't seem to be so upon the first viewing.
The paintings I worked on today are causing me to reconsider some ideas I have about a 'finished' composition. The forms I'm using now are much more open than previously and much less centered in place; lines and colors are moving all over the place. I let some areas build up with an accumulation of marks while others are flat and let the eye rest a bit before being taken up into more activity. The flow of information is continual and the possibilities seemingly endless. Through this process, I'm trying to let go of a default painting ideology I accumulated over the past few years and embrace more readily the open-ended spirit of the new paintings.
phantom brush
I've not held a paint brush in my hand for just over a week. That's way too long. It's been like that because I had to deal with the mailing list debacle towards the end of last week.
I've felt odd in the past when I hadn't been working in the studio for a while, but this time there's a palpable difference. You know what they say about people who have a limb amputated, that the amputee continues to 'feel' the limb even though it's not there. I believe it's referred to as a 'ghost limb' or something like that. Well, that's how I've been feeling since at least a couple of days ago. I usually paint with my right hand but have used my left from time to time. It's my right hand that my mind has assigned the feeling of a missing brush to. It's a distinct feeling, also. It's one of my larger brushes. I can make out the smooth wood and the slight change in thickness along the handle. It's as if I'm just about to lay down some color or make a line or two.
......
painted
looked
painted
looked
turned it upside down
looked
painted
laid it on the floor
scraped
painted some more
put it back on the easel
painted
that'll work...for now
leaned it against the wall
started over with the second one...
I've felt odd in the past when I hadn't been working in the studio for a while, but this time there's a palpable difference. You know what they say about people who have a limb amputated, that the amputee continues to 'feel' the limb even though it's not there. I believe it's referred to as a 'ghost limb' or something like that. Well, that's how I've been feeling since at least a couple of days ago. I usually paint with my right hand but have used my left from time to time. It's my right hand that my mind has assigned the feeling of a missing brush to. It's a distinct feeling, also. It's one of my larger brushes. I can make out the smooth wood and the slight change in thickness along the handle. It's as if I'm just about to lay down some color or make a line or two.
......
painted
looked
painted
looked
turned it upside down
looked
painted
laid it on the floor
scraped
painted some more
put it back on the easel
painted
that'll work...for now
leaned it against the wall
started over with the second one...
Friday, July 15, 2005
take a deep breath
The past couple of days have been something of a pain in the ass. I needed to update my snail-mail art list after almost two years of not touching it. Bad thing to do and here's why: All the information I had was on old floppy disks that are way out of compatibility with the eMac purchased last year. Not only that, but the programs the list was originally made with are obsolete. Long story short, I had to re-type everything into the my computer and learn to use the mailing/label-making program that came with the eMac, Appleworks.
Fine. Souldn't be that hard, right? Uh-uh, I don't get off that easily. First, I had to find the label format, spend five hours total typing in all the information and then figure out how to format the labes for printing. All of which I managed to do, but not before I lost half of the addresses and had to re-type them in, adding another three hours to the task. I attempted every way I knew of to retrieve the document, but to no avail.
I lost the information because I clicked the mouse once too many times and hadn't saved the document. I know most people have gone through this and I've also lost documents to the electronic ether before. However, this was hard to take because I was already tired from staying up the night before working on the list and now it was gone. I also had a deadline to meet. Needless to say there was much swearing, gnashing of teeth and banging of the head on the desk. Like the South Park episode, I must have set a record for dropping the "F" bomb.
Well, I got though it all after leaving the apartment for a while. I bought some new sneaks, a book, and a couple of magazines. That helped dissipate the anger of being too much in a hurry and losing the information.
Yep, retail therapy, works every time...
Fine. Souldn't be that hard, right? Uh-uh, I don't get off that easily. First, I had to find the label format, spend five hours total typing in all the information and then figure out how to format the labes for printing. All of which I managed to do, but not before I lost half of the addresses and had to re-type them in, adding another three hours to the task. I attempted every way I knew of to retrieve the document, but to no avail.
I lost the information because I clicked the mouse once too many times and hadn't saved the document. I know most people have gone through this and I've also lost documents to the electronic ether before. However, this was hard to take because I was already tired from staying up the night before working on the list and now it was gone. I also had a deadline to meet. Needless to say there was much swearing, gnashing of teeth and banging of the head on the desk. Like the South Park episode, I must have set a record for dropping the "F" bomb.
Well, I got though it all after leaving the apartment for a while. I bought some new sneaks, a book, and a couple of magazines. That helped dissipate the anger of being too much in a hurry and losing the information.
Yep, retail therapy, works every time...
Friday, July 01, 2005
having enough
It felt good to make a run to Utrecht for paint and not have to choose between buying a pint of one color and wait a week to get the other one. Due to a recent sale, I was able to buy enough pints to last months. Just one less thing to worry about. Nothing kills the creative spark quicker than not being able to afford the materials you need. Of course, when I've run low on paints in the past, I got by with doing drawings or something else for a time, but when I have the urge to paint, it's difficult to accept that another activity will suffice. It's especially hard when you're in the midst of a good creative period.
Now I won't have to worry about running out of paints for a good while. I hope not, at least. I'll probably use more now that I have a lot, which is fine. It's all being put to good use. That being said, I still had a hard time leaving all of the pints of acrylic paints on the check-out counter after I'd picked them out. I could afford it all of it and even more but I couldn't help defaulting to my usual mind-set of "Can I really afford all of this right now?" I stood at the counter just staring at the paints wondering if I should put this one or that one back on the shelf. My worries were unfounded, of course, but I'm really used to not being able to buy what I want as opposed to what I can afford. There's a big difference and my mind hasn't quite caught up to the reality.
Now I won't have to worry about running out of paints for a good while. I hope not, at least. I'll probably use more now that I have a lot, which is fine. It's all being put to good use. That being said, I still had a hard time leaving all of the pints of acrylic paints on the check-out counter after I'd picked them out. I could afford it all of it and even more but I couldn't help defaulting to my usual mind-set of "Can I really afford all of this right now?" I stood at the counter just staring at the paints wondering if I should put this one or that one back on the shelf. My worries were unfounded, of course, but I'm really used to not being able to buy what I want as opposed to what I can afford. There's a big difference and my mind hasn't quite caught up to the reality.
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