tri-cycle

misplaced metaphor

I have been meaning to upload one of these drawings, although I must say I am not pleased with the color quality from the scans.  (These are very low-res versions.)  As a break from photo work, and video work, and painting, and collage, ... from everything, really, I began these very simple, humble line drawings.  I completed maybe 50 or so and have now switched over to black and white.  These scans are from the earlier, color series, completed near the end of the summer.  Xander spilled a glass of water on most of them, and didn't tell me until weeks later.  

Bubbles

I have been editing photo work tonight, after so much time avoiding.  The hours spent in front of the computer are my least favorite part of the process.  As a result, I have thousands of images that exist only in RAW digital form.  

Settling In

Ah, yes ... settling into Portland, Maine ... forever the "other" Portland.  Thankful that I have chosen NOT to stick to my plan to avoid alcohol from April Fool's Day to April Fool's Day.  Converging "studio" with "apartment" in such a fashion that I actually think I will have a productive year.

No photo tonight.  I will scan a new piece in the morning.  Maybe a line drawing, if I can find one to unpack, or a page from my newly christened sketchbook.  Boxes still from floor to ceiling.  In the bedroom.  All other rooms, FINALLY unpacked, or nearly.  I have left most of my art supplies to unpack until the very end, knowing that once they're in the house, I will make, make, make instead of unpacking and setting up a home for our little family.    Not wanting to create chaos until we're out of box-dom.

Moving

I am wrecked. No longer reading anything related to film. No longer researching Multiplicity. Simply moving through time, readying for another uprooting... this time from the rural setting I now enjoy to the most urban little city Maine has to offer (which isn't saying much).

The moving process has lodged new ideas in my mind, for upcoming series of works. One involves the plastic containers children's toys (and potentially other items) are packaged in. I'd like to find a substance and way of making molds to the exact shape of the plastic containers (without melting the plastic), then work with the surface of the plaster, wax, salt (I haven't decided) with paint, dye, etc. (I think). The abstract shapes are interesting to me, and I have been seeking out a way of pulling materials from the status quo. I'd like to riff off of everyday settings, look at materials in a different way, shift the context and assign new meaning.

In the same vein, I have become interested in doing something with the stock images used in frames. I came across a series of black-and-white images while I was packing family photos. I was inspired by the implication that these would/should be "everyday" images - people on swings, by the beach, in shorts, etc. I'd like to explore more of where that leads.

And then, ... my D70 is currently in the shop (a very sad thing, but sometimes another roundabout method of inspiration - inevitably I am struck by a new series of photo works whenever my camera is on the fritz). I wish I had it to photograph packed boxes before I tape them shut. There is something about the simple shapes of objects wrapped in newsprint that satisfies my love of texture, sense of order and exploration of object-dom. I consistently waffle while packing between the mindless space of simply wrapping things in paper, or placing them in boxes and the more inquisitive space of questioning why I carry these things with me, around and in my life ... so many objects I have not thought about since they were unpacked and placed on shelves, or in drawers. There are boxes still packed, unopened, from when I landed on the East Coast, last year. Boxes of my father's things, inherited when he passed away in 2005. Still not gone through/gotten rid-of/absorbed... Some things I keep because it would pain me to get rid of them and then want them, later...(right). Some things are obviously useful, in the present, or some not-too-distant future. Other things I am saving, for my children, for moments of solitude I have yet to carve into... and then, thankfully, I am finding myself surprisingly inspired by many of my belongings. (I am one of those people who had the acid trip where I really did throw away all of my belongings (down the garbage chute of my college dorm) and decide I wanted to walk the Earth with nothing but the clothes on my back, so the idea of inspiration through things is a bit shocking.) It is as though there is an entire "other" life contained within many of my things - books I would love to read, materials that inspire me and push me to create, little trinkets or adornments I bet I could use some other way. And yet, I use and see maybe 10% of these things in my daily life. I am stuck and struck by habit, perhaps, and within a getting-by that keeps me in blinders. I don't know why I have chosen to live this way, or if I can say I have chosen it, at all. I recognize a profound need for solitude and stillness coupled with a deep-seated fear of being alone. I need calm, and yet can be terrified of the experiences it will bring. My life is filled with objects of solitude, but I have not claimed the time in which to enjoy them.

And ugh!!! --- I have stopped drinking alcohol. It has been more difficult than I ever imagined, making me think it's an even better idea than I originally thought. I am attempting to face the fuck out of any demons I have lurking around inside. No more escaping from myself. (I wouldn't recommend this to anyone.) I MISS escaping, and have noticed all the other ways I have developed to take the place of drinking... eating, random movie watching, online surfing, working myself nearly to death. Walking around and viewing the world through the lens of addiction, I realize I do not know a single non-addicted soul. Not one. Even my children seem to need their fixes - video games, movies, sugar, ... And I have been dialoguing internally about whether it's all that bad - I really ENJOY my addictions. Many of them. (Damn a beer would be good.) I figure I'll try to stick with this for a full year (April Fool's Day to April Fool's Day) and then see where I'm at. Maybe I'll knock out the other addictions, too, ... fuck.

No More Cabinets

So ... I will NOT be finishing watching The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, it seems. I am just not able to get into it. I may force myself to attempt it again, but the idea of finishing it before writing again has kept me away from writing (not a good thing.)

Hmpf.

Blur