January 29, 2011
January 24, 2011
January 23, 2011
January 20, 2011
1. Set. (Ready.)
"--One day it happens: what you have feared all your life,the unendurably specific, the exact thing. No matter what you say or do"
January 17, 2011
January 16, 2011
January 14, 2011
Applied.
For the past few months I was thinking about applying to graduate schools and I went back and forth on whether or not I was going to do it- whether or not I thought I was going to be able to do it. I managed to do it. Yesterday I sent off the last of my application materials. I applied to six schools to receive an MFA in drawing. One of the hardest parts of getting the applications together was the artist statement that I had to write about my work and an explanation of why I want to go to graduate school. Here is what I wrote:
I have had a passion for drawing and making artwork all of my life. The creation of images on paper and fabric allows me to clearly articulate my thoughts. Visual imagery has the power to transform the present moment and allows me to more fully understand myself. Humans are shaped by their surroundings and informed by the world in which we live. As an artist, I have powerful tools to shape and change how people view the world.
I wish to attend graduate school to be in an environment with other artists working to understand what it means to make work and to explain something about the shared human experience. I want to create a body of work in a place where I am able to receive criticism and have dialogue about my work and that of other artists. I want to sharpen all of the aspects of art making and hone the techniques which will allow my art to continue to grow.
My work is very much about the struggles of being human but is also richly informed by my love for all of the arts. Art has the transformative power to set people free from human constructs. In a world filled with much violence and suffering, I turn toward the beauty in life, which can be expressed most clearly through art. I see every blank wall or page as an opportunity, constantly reminding me that it is possible to be free from all that would hold me back from being able to fully experience the world. Art, poetry, music and literature are the nourishment that feed both my mind and work.
During my three month residency in Venice, Italy I drew for eight or more hours on a typical day. Through my hard work, I realized that the process of creating my art was also a way of revealing more of my true self. I look forward to the demands of graduate school because it offers me the opportunity to more fully use my strong focus and capacity for hard work. I love the process of making of art and the materials with which I make it. Through the beauty and simplicity of line, color and shape I am able to juxtapose images and create a composition of new meaning. As humans we are able to see the world differently through the lens the artist creates and it is my desire to create, in some way, a vision of the world made new.
I have had a passion for drawing and making artwork all of my life. The creation of images on paper and fabric allows me to clearly articulate my thoughts. Visual imagery has the power to transform the present moment and allows me to more fully understand myself. Humans are shaped by their surroundings and informed by the world in which we live. As an artist, I have powerful tools to shape and change how people view the world.
I wish to attend graduate school to be in an environment with other artists working to understand what it means to make work and to explain something about the shared human experience. I want to create a body of work in a place where I am able to receive criticism and have dialogue about my work and that of other artists. I want to sharpen all of the aspects of art making and hone the techniques which will allow my art to continue to grow.
My work is very much about the struggles of being human but is also richly informed by my love for all of the arts. Art has the transformative power to set people free from human constructs. In a world filled with much violence and suffering, I turn toward the beauty in life, which can be expressed most clearly through art. I see every blank wall or page as an opportunity, constantly reminding me that it is possible to be free from all that would hold me back from being able to fully experience the world. Art, poetry, music and literature are the nourishment that feed both my mind and work.
During my three month residency in Venice, Italy I drew for eight or more hours on a typical day. Through my hard work, I realized that the process of creating my art was also a way of revealing more of my true self. I look forward to the demands of graduate school because it offers me the opportunity to more fully use my strong focus and capacity for hard work. I love the process of making of art and the materials with which I make it. Through the beauty and simplicity of line, color and shape I am able to juxtapose images and create a composition of new meaning. As humans we are able to see the world differently through the lens the artist creates and it is my desire to create, in some way, a vision of the world made new.
January 11, 2011
Poem from "The Writer's Almanac" for today. And a self portrait.
Zero Holding
I grow to like the bare
trees and the snow, the bones and fur
of winter. Even the greyness
of the nunneries, they are so grey,
walled all around with grey stones —
and the snow piled up on ledges
of wall and sill, those grey
planes for holding snow: this is how
it will be, months now, all so still,
sunk in itself, only the cold alive,
vibrant, like a wire — and all the
busy chimneys — their ghost-breath,
a rumour of lives warmed within,
rising, rising, and blowing away.
trees and the snow, the bones and fur
of winter. Even the greyness
of the nunneries, they are so grey,
walled all around with grey stones —
and the snow piled up on ledges
of wall and sill, those grey
planes for holding snow: this is how
it will be, months now, all so still,
sunk in itself, only the cold alive,
vibrant, like a wire — and all the
busy chimneys — their ghost-breath,
a rumour of lives warmed within,
rising, rising, and blowing away.
January 10, 2011
The beginning & the end might look very similar.
January 3, 2011
Poem by Noel Coward. I've posted this before; it's beautiful and I love the first lines.
Nothing Is Lost
Deep in our sub-conscious, we are told
Lie all our memories, lie all the notes
Of all the music we have ever heard
And all the phrases those we loved have spoken,
Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,
Family jokes, out-moded anecdotes
Each sentimental souvenir and token
Everything seen, experienced, each word
Addressed to us in infancy, before
Before we could even know or understand
The implications of our wonderland.
There they all are, the legendary lies
The birthday treats, the sights, the sounds, the tears
Forgotten debris of forgotten years
Waiting to be recalled, waiting to rise
Before our world dissolves before our eyes
Waiting for some small, intimate reminder,
A word, a tune, a known familiar scent
An echo from the past when, innocent
We looked upon the present with delight
And doubted not the future would be kinder
And never knew the loneliness of night.
by Noel Coward
Deep in our sub-conscious, we are told
Lie all our memories, lie all the notes
Of all the music we have ever heard
And all the phrases those we loved have spoken,
Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,
Family jokes, out-moded anecdotes
Each sentimental souvenir and token
Everything seen, experienced, each word
Addressed to us in infancy, before
Before we could even know or understand
The implications of our wonderland.
There they all are, the legendary lies
The birthday treats, the sights, the sounds, the tears
Forgotten debris of forgotten years
Waiting to be recalled, waiting to rise
Before our world dissolves before our eyes
Waiting for some small, intimate reminder,
A word, a tune, a known familiar scent
An echo from the past when, innocent
We looked upon the present with delight
And doubted not the future would be kinder
And never knew the loneliness of night.
by Noel Coward
January 2, 2011
Love.
Sorry I have not been writing much. I will start again soon and also posting images of new work. xo
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