Monday, February 23, 2009

ahh...art day

There are days where everything falls into place to create. Saturday was one of those days. I've always been filled with ideas but very rarely let myself execute the ideas. To be honest, I realize just how much trial and error there is in art and I over schedule myself too often to give it a good go. Not today (okay Saturday)...maybe not from here on. My great ideas only live so long inside my mind. They need to breath, work out, expand...I will let myself exercise my ideas, I will let myself exercise my ideas, I will let myself exercise my ideas...(200 times on the chalkboard).... It was a great experimenting day. The gel medium hasn't quite worked out the way I hoped. Its dry but I think it made the ink in my photos bleed. I used a non-coated paper so that might be the problem. I'm still pretty intrigued by the gel but I have some kinks to work out. On the other hand I love the wax. It's hard to get it perfectly flat but the ski waxing iron has been a big help (no holes in the bottom). I made two different test pieces today. The first is the bird panel. I haven't added the words but I like the look so far. Then I did a small test with a couple different Diana images. Anyway. It was fun doing and documenting. the panels. Gel medium....maybe too thick. diana images and wax after the first coat of wax

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

screaming into pillows.

When I was younger I used to channel excess energy, either good or bad, by screaming into a pillow. It seemed the best way to let off steam. I could scream as loud and long as I wanted and not worry about being too loud and crazy or upsetting my mom. It was perhaps the most fantastic thing I taught myself to do. Somewhere in the span of growing up I forgot those pillow moments. I replaced down filled rectangles with friends who would listen when I'm sad or upset. My pure excitement and joy was channeled into other things such as laughter or words that more effectively expressed my feelings. Today, amid a moment of frustration and slight panic, as result of life claustrophobia, I remembered the pillow. Even the thought of screaming until my lungs ran out of air made me feel better. Then, I put a one sentence, nondescript statement, out into the world via twitter, "There are just some frustrations that aren't worth it. Right?" I'm not even sure what I meant and yet it made me feel better. As my fingers typed the words, the frustration seeped into the keys, onto the screen and out into an unknown world. Relief. A new method of copping? A way to forcefully eject the emotion, through it back to where it came from. Perhaps just a band aid. I still may go and scream into my pillow just for kicks.