Working Together on the Web

A close friend of mine from college, Kate, has launched a new site with a friend of hers called Wednesday Machine Arts Collective. This site's goal is to bring artists and writers together in a virtual arts festival. They plan on connecting artists of different genres together to collaborate on their work. How the collaboration takes shape is up to the artists.

To me, this is one of the best uses of the online arts community -- to connect writers and artists from around the world to work together. I'm really excited to see how Wednesday Machine takes shape.

In Spite of Frost

This week, I filled my first Academie journal with morning pages from my bus commute. I've been at this practice for about two and a half months now, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I like the accomplishment of filling a journal, but I feel like it all says the same thing. Here are the people on the bus, this is what the landscape looks like, I want to complain about this. I've been mentally calling them Mourning Pages for the past couple of weeks.

While I'm trying to think of a better way to spend my 20 minutes on the bus, I made this new journal cover with my new paper and a postcard I bought at the art museum last month. The teeny tiny quote by the bottom of the picture is a quote from a John Keats poem:

She will bring, in spite of frost,
Beauties that the earth hath lost

Around the border is my own imagining of what she's thinking while posing for the picture.

I'm not sure if the cover is done, so I haven't laminated it yet. I'm going to spend the weekend with it, and see if I like it. This is one of the only creative things I've done this week. It feels good to create, even for only an hour or so last night.

The other creative act for the week is a collaborative poem for read. write. poem with Jack from Monkeyboy. it was an interesting experience writing something line by line via email with another person. It's a pretty cool poem and I know I wouldn't have written anything like it alone. I will post it after the holiday. Until then, I'll be spending time with my in-laws and generally making merry.

Happy Holidays!

Preventative Retail Therapy

Today was a long day at work. I knew it was going to be a long day. I had six days off for Thanksgiving (and because I work Saturday) and in the back of my mind I knew that today was going to be long. Those six days off are now a fleeting memory.

Since I knew what was coming, I did a little preventative retail therapy yesterday. I visited my local paper shop and did some buying. I got myself a Paper Palette, which is a huge combination of scrap papers and two different paper color packs, blue and red. Hands down, the Paper Palette is way better.

I sorted it all yesterday into color piles yesterday, while watching Bones Season 1 on DVD. It was so much fun to just sort it, because I couldn't tell from the package what was included and I was constantly surprised by the papers. Ooh -- orange and blue floral! Wow -- black with pink paisley! Purple and lavender zebra stripes, cool!

While there are lots of colors represented, my favorites are these deep wine-y magenta fuzzy floral patterns, that are paired with gold metallic relief. It's fuzzy and pretty. So while I was running around my school like a chicken with my head cut off, I was secretly dreaming of purple paper.

Now if only I wasn't too tired to play with it. *Sigh*

Thankful for Inspiration

Today, I'm thankful that I get to see art and learn more about the artist's inspirations.

Yesterday, my mom and I went to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts to see the Georgia O'Keefe exhibit, Circling Around Abstraction. While I know O'Keefe's work only marginally, I have always associated her with her quasi-representational flower portraits and desert landscapes. But what I learned yesterday is that she was committed to abstract art throughout her career.

Several things struck me as I took notes in my journal. First, it was interesting to me that she moved from more representational work, like these fruit portraits here, to ever more abstract images, like these paintings from the end of her career. If I happened on to any of these pictures at another museum, I don't know if I would have recognized them as O'Keefe. It seemed that she found a happy medium between the overly representational and the overly abstract in her landscapes and flowers.

Second, I never really understood abstract art. I took no art classes in college and so I always feel stymied when looking at an abstract piece. But the exhibit provides an excellent O'Keefe quote that explains her aesthetic:

"Nothing is less real than realism. Details are confusing. It is only by selection, elimination, and emphasis that we get to the real meaning of things."

At first, I rebelled against her statement, because in my writing, I focus on details in my poetry. But I don't include all details -- I emphasize and eliminate in order to distort and/or represent meaning.

Lastly, I was intrigued by her pelvis images, where the bones are used as a frame in which to view the sky. Somewhere on the explanatory passages, they used the phrase "bone as lens." As in, O'Keefe used the bone as a lens through which to see the world. That has resonated and stayed with me, ever since I saw it. It's an interesting movement from interior back out to exterior, and I wonder how that aesthetic informed her work. I also thought it was an interesting mini-trigger for a poem.

Scavenging

Today, I was lucky to participate in a collage workshop at my alma mater. The event was sponsored by West Egg Literati, a student organization that produces an awesome journal and it was lead by my former advisor, Deborah Keenan. While Deborah considers herself a poet first, she is also a pretty accomplished collage artist and each year she runs this workshop.

It was great because it was a no pressure, creative event, like most workshops run by Deborah. All we had to bring was 30 words of writing, 3 backings, and scissors and a glue stick.She gave us a little intro where she discussed her approach to collaging, what works for her. Her approach is interesting because she collects mountains of collage material throughout the year and then when she goes on vacation, she works on her collages. She works with both words and imagery and tries to integrate both into the finished product, although they don't always end up combined into one piece.

After reading some poems, she sent us off into our corners. Once we got to work, we got to pick through her scrap reserves, which had a great combination of modern and older stuff. I found myself drawn to mostly black and white images, and religious iconography (for some reason), and I spent most of my time on the first one. It was very much a fluid, instinctive experience, although I don't know how I feel about the finished product...or what it says. When she gave us the fifteen minute bell, I realized I hadn't used much of my haiku that I brought, so I put together the more spartan second piece. I like it because it has more texture, although again, I don't know if it's done.

Finished or not finished, quality or crap, I enjoyed the process of cutting and trimming and gluing together these pieces, and I think that I want to spend more time collaging.

So, my question for you collagers out there, especially those with limited work spaces: how do you organize your scraps? I normally go through my magazines on the day that I collage, but I find that it creates kind of homogeneous pieces. I want to collect, but I'm limited on room. Any advice on organization would be appreciated!

Hipsters & Handicrafts

This weekend marked the 44th annual Uptown Art Fair in my neck of the woods. The fair is a major event in our area because it brings a lot of art, people and drama to our cloistered little 'hood.

I've always had a love-hate relationship with the Art Fair, which is often ruled by whether or not I work in Uptown during the event. See, the fair brings hundreds of tourists who converge on a 4 square block neighborhood, take up all the parking, walk through the local shops without buying anything and generally leave their trash everywhere. When I've worked my various summer and grad school jobs in the neighborhood (at the bagel shop, movie theater, and furniture store, respectively), I've dreaded the arrival of the Art Fair. It always meant lots of snarky pushy customers without much reward. I was never able to tour the art fair, simply because I would be so fed up with the fair crowd after my shifts. One summer, I saw a little sticker on a phone booth that said, "It's not Uptown. It's Not Art. And It's Not Fair," and I felt vindicated.

Now, as a non-retail working resident of Uptown, I grudgingly admit that the sticker is mostly wrong. It is Uptown, a lot of it is beautiful art, and well, it's still not fair, but we can be big kids for a weekend. My husband and I toured the stalls this weekend and coveted some really unique and interesting art. Since our finances are tight right now (really, when are they not?), we couldn't manage the $100-3500 price tags for the pieces we really wanted. So instead, I'm going to offer links to the people I really like, in the hopes that someone out there can afford pretty art.

So here are my favorites, in no particular order:

Chicago native Gabe Lanza creates some really creepy(in a good way) acrylic paintings that are inspired by comic books and packaging from the '60's. He also had a blog, which I'm looking forward to exploring.

Mary Beth Shaw from Missouri does some really interesting collages using old black and white pictures. She also has a blog, which showcases her art and processes.

Ann Wood and Dean Lucker, St. Paul natives, do some beautiful and surreal mechanical pictures that you need to see to believe. Their site has video clips, so you can see the art in motion.

I remembered Wisconsite Marvin Hill's work from last year -- he does beautiful water-colored block prints that seem to center around his own understanding of mythology and dreams. I dig the themes and I also dig his technique.

Wendy Detrick Worhsam does these amazingly vibrant paintings of animals. I normally don't dig on animal art, too cutesy, but her pieces put the animals in semi-surreal settings and are just beautiful. I especially like her birds.

Kina Crow does some wonderfully weird sculpture that centers around these strange little bald figures. There was one at the fair that had three in a row inset into a picture frame, and below it was written "I wonder what they are looking at." She seems to have a very odd sense of humor, which I like.

Keith Grace's work didn't appeal to me at first. He uses a lot of bold colors and large designs that seemed good, but not all that intriguing, until I looked up close and realized that he had collaged typeset words into all of the images. Totally interesting and cool!

My husband really liked Chuck Wimmer's work, which focuses on really cartoonish paintings of animals. I had to peel Aaron away from the print with the monkeys. Maybe next year.

So if you're swimming in money, support these artists who come from far and wide to cause traffic jams in my neighborhood. All in all, it's worth the hassle for a weekend of art.

Why I Love Minneapolis, Reason #156

I love Minneapolis because of our Art Car Parade. Every year, Intermedia Arts hosts a public art parade, where artists can enter their decorated cars into a juried contest and parade. The parade travels a route mere blocks from our condo, so my husband and I went this year. This was our first year sitting through the entire parade. (Since its our neighborhood, we normally just see the cars tooling around, which reminds us that the parade is happening.)

This year there were tons of creative cars, from one entirely covered in cork to another covered in fake teeth, toothpaste tubes and black and white diagrams of mouths and skulls. Our mayor was also there, riding a bike and encouraging people to shout "Peace Now." He was followed by someone in an over sized Dick Cheney suit, who was carrying a huge shotgun. The mayor kept shouting, "Look out! It's Dick Cheney carrying a gun!" Only in Minneapolis could this be considered a good PR move.

Some of my favorite entries are highlighted in this post, including the camera covered van, the guy driving his couch, the free speech car which urges viewers to Say Something, the Uncle Sam Jeep, and the car with a wind sock attached to it.

Kind of makes we want to decorate my "normal" car.

5 Truths

Before going on vacation a couple of weeks ago, I made this journal. I knew I had to make a new journal before I left, because the previous one was starting to show signs of its age and was almost full. Whenever I make journals, I do a haphazard collage, cobbled together out of magazine pictures. This time, I was making the journal while hanging out with a friend and I wasn't feeling too inspired. My friend found the headline "5 Truths" and said, "Try this one." Boy, was he right. (I hardly ever say that, so he must be doing a happy jig about now.)

While in Jamaica, I used the journal's title to create a writing exercise. I made lists of 5 things that were true about me. The lists seemed to encapsulate themes, all on their own. After writing a couple of lists, a poem bubbled to the surface. It was pretty magical, the way it happened so automatically.

So, if you would like to try it, all you have to do is write at the top of your journal page 5 Truths. Then, write one sentence (minimum) for each truth. Don't force it, just let the sentences create the form. If a poem doesn't occur to you after writing them down, pick one of the truths and write about that.

Here's an example, written right now.

***

5 Truths About Me Right Now

1. I need to take a leap of faith in my work life.
2. I'm scared to take that leap.
3. I use activity as a way to procrastinate and mask my true feelings.
4. I would like to learn how to sit still.
5. I'm not too bad, and actually quite human, after all.

I Heart Public Art!

This post is brought to you by the bridge linking Loring Park and the Walker Sculpture Garden, and the poet John Ashberry. Here is more information about the work I saw today.

Dear Diary...

According to this LA Times article, there's a new-ish performance art movement in NYC involving teenage diaries. Apparently, once a month there is a Cringe reading, where people in their 20's and 30's read excerpts from their junior high and high school diaries. It's played for laughs, most of the time, but every so often there is also the painful realization about hating parents and life.

I think this is a brilliant idea, for someone else. I cannot imagine reading my diaries out loud in front of an audience. I have a stack of them in my basement, that I kept sporadically from 16 years old through now. They're mostly writing journals, but some of them have diary style entries. I blush when I read the ones from college. And I'm the only one in the room! It takes a lot of chutzpah to be able to do this type of reading. Chutzpah that I don't quite have.

Intersection of Art & Language

Here' s an interesting NY Times article about a Turkish artist who calls himself a "scrivener" or copier.

He has a technique where he copies famous works of art and "improves them, " like a gold painted David. He also is featured as copying the NY Times newsprint, but adding a hall of mirrors image of the page with his copy, inside a page of his copy, etc.

I'm a sucker for anything post-modern.