Tuesday, March 02, 2010

...thislittlepiggystayedhome...

I wake up in the "middle" of the night with these perfect thoughts about things to write about. As if I am a writer by trade. But I am not. I sometimes think I am nothing by trade. And that thought is what encompasses my day when I wake up. I had the thought of a great novel I could write the other night...wisps of poetry weave through my dreams occasionally...and when I'm really lucky I see a painting fully formed. Paintings are the only thing I seem to be able to actually do anymore. And even those...
These are hard times. I have grown weary of hearing about the economy much the same way it became tiresome when I lived in the mountains to hear "it's the altitude", or when I lived in the desert how it was all blamed on the "dry heat". While we have more than some, and much less than others, the worry of thinking about how we are going to get through the next month with the house in Keats on our back still, or the debt that has piled up that we chip away at with a tiny little nut cracker pick every month, gets to me. I spend so much of my time trying to find jobs right now that it seemingly drains all of my creative energy. I find temporary or part time jobs that never seem to be what they advertised exactly. Even if I could find some sort of really good, full time job, I am not clear what we would do with H. when he wasn't in school. R's job is of the nature that he needs to be somewhat "on call" all of the time, so it's not just as easy as I work at night and on the weekend's... or during the day but only until three. I suppose there are after school type programs we could pay for. But we certainly couldn't pay for them until we I actually had a job that made enough to cover it. And so I look...but since I haven't been "working" for six years, I am not qualified for any job, apparently. Maybe I should start saying I worked at a daycare for the past six years. I am recording this here so I will remember. I will either look back over time and think that I had it much easier back then, or will think that I had it much harder. Hopefully it is the latter.
I have never been one much for painting dark and moody paintings. Color always rears it's head and tries desperately to lighten my mood. Some paintings may come out "dark" but it is never my intention. I have a hard time taking all this anger I feel at our current situation and parlaying it into a painting. Thus, I don't paint much when my thoughts are predominantly like they have been. But I need to. I have to turn over something here in later March to my friend who has an art gallery in Colorado where they will be hanging for three months. I have been in knots thinking about how I don't have a "series", how they all seem so "different", how they are all such varied sizes...the list goes on and on. How I won't have "enough".... and all those thoughts make me dwell on my "lack of training"... But I persevere anyway, because I have to. There are worse things that I would "have" to do. Incidentally, I have very similar thoughts about writing things in this blog. Like right now. "But it isn't really about art...", or "I am complaining too much" or "It's all disjointed"....
Which brings me to a point. Or "my" point... or "the thought I need to keep in mind"...
I started painting out of joy. It was a break from what I had spent my life learning and absorbing, which was the Theatre. I got a degree in Theatre because I was so close to it by the time I had a very strong realization that I wanted to pursue fine art. I remember at the time I very purposefully did not want to go to school. I did not want the bureaucracy of academics to take away my fire for painting the same way it had taken away my love for the Theatre. But, even without the academic training, the more you create, the more you sell, the more you think about it, you can't help but have these little thoughts creep into your mind trying to criticize your vision and say it has to be a certain way that you had nothing to do with creating. That is what I want to put a stop to.
I woke up in the middle of the night the other night and had the thought that everything I am regarding painting is about memory. The very nature of painting has to be about memory. Even if it's a plein aire painting outside in the moment of conception, there is still an element of memory to it. However, my painting's are more about memory in a rather obtuse sort of way. Perhaps I need to figure out how to connect that in words so the viewer can experience that "series" sort of feel that everyone is always talking about. But I see that connection in each piece that I create. I am not able to paint the same thing over and over again. I suppose I should try, but I wonder why every time I think that. Ultimately, for me, all my paintings could probably be summed up with the underlying thought that they are all just about "grasping at straws". Think about that. The theme is "grasping at straws"....
Which is what I am doing right now I suppose. I had no set agenda for what I was going to write when I sat down. I approached it the same way I used to write poetry when I was a kid. I put the blank sheet of paper in front of me, and stared.
I do know that I have realized that I will not keep this blog updated if I make it only about posting art, because the truth is there can be great lulls in making art. And the truth is I need to "talk" about it. Even if it's just grasping at straws in order to figure it all out.

4 comments:

Alissa said...

If they are all vastly different, but kind of the same, that's a series. I like "grasping at straws" as a concept. Great post. <3

Regina Agu said...

Great honest post...I can definitely identify with alot of what you said. Thanks for being so open :)
-Regina

Anonymous said...

Miriam,
You are so in touch with yourself!
I think, sometimes, and especially in the dead of winter, these thought patterns can grab hold of our ability to step outside of our situation and "flip a switch."
It is a change in reaction that will take you where you are wanting to be. Easier said than done, yet totally necessary for the outcome to be different than what it has been.
You need hope. Hope can come in a the form of a memory, a spark of a familiar feeling from a more hopeful time, something we see or even a person.
Remember the line in the song, "Don't Let it Bring You Down" by Neil Young, and find someone who's turning and you will come around.
The world never stops and neither do we. Even when we think we're standing still, we are still moving and growing.
So, I am wishing you "hope." It is what you need. And I'm wishing for a spark to ignite you and light you up from the inside out! X
LUCKYCARMEN

Cagey (Kelli Oliver George) said...

Over the years, I have been hearing and reading the very same complaints. Over and over. Except now, the complaints are blamed on the economy. Which is sad, if some folks would just look closer into themselves, they might find an answer.

Good perspective in this post, Miriam.