Threads

So…

More conversations.

Some, that start out fairly ordinarily, become the subject of a conversation in themselves. Are the stupid text messages and emails I send (and receive) also part of my practice? The things we send each other to cheer, support, and nurture… some, well most, in my case, are silly jokes, rude words sent timed so they have the highest impact. Sending a string of words to a person who is supposed to be doing something serious is juvenile. But I do it anyway. The more serious the situation, the funnier it is. It is their own fault for opening the message.

Some, push the boundaries of taste and decency and become a bit risky. There is a sort of brinkmanship going on. I am even now questioning whether I should be writing this in a blog, in case I get stuck having to bluster and explain myself. I question certainly, how much should go in the blog, how explicit I should be, I wouldn’t want to get myself or anyone else into trouble would I?

But the fact I am again conversing about the conversation makes it interesting, worth talking about. Where does my art practice stop? Would the stupid text messages not be part of my practice if I didn’t start talking about them as such.

The thing is too, I like to think I can be funny. It can be a failing. Sometimes, I’m really not. I think I can say anything I like, as long as it is funny, or “clever”. Sometimes when I do it to people I don’t know very well, it isn’t taken as funny. Sometimes, I make new friends on the basis that they have laughed at something I’ve said that’s thrown them – that explosive, instant, spontaneous laugh is priceless. (I did it to Bo Jones) (Maybe I should be doing stand up? No.) The children I teach, by the middle of the second term, know that if they make me laugh, they can pretty much get away with stuff. (I’m not sure what this says about me as a teacher).

Laughter is important to me. So why is my work so miserable/spooky/macabre? (other people’s words). It is really difficult to make serious art that is funny… why? You can do anything else… love, hate, anger, disgust, why is funny so difficult to take seriously?

The messages themselves haven’t sparked any further work ideas, but in a secondary way, the talking about them has. I have another few pages in my sketch book of rude, occasionally obscene text scribbled onto drawings of respectable clothes.

I like the concept of layers of respectability covering all sorts of goings on… The business suit over the frilly knickers… rude words and insults stitched to the linings…red hat, no drawers…

This blog is twice as long as usual. It is maybe two rolled into one. Funny, and The Conversation. But I won’t make apologies for this, as to me, at the moment, they are indivisible.

What sort of artist do I want to be then?

Remember me talking about difficult conversations a few posts back? Well continuing emails with a few people have caused me to think. I’ve had a few rejections for proposals and it is somewhat disheartening. I’m told the proposals are strong by various people, but they clearly don’t “fit” at the moment. Do I carry on sending them out to places, or do I plod on doing my own thing with local groups, and possibly hire a gallery to share with a friend and get some work seen? I know some people are a bit sniffy about the gallery space for hire thing, but surely if you choose the right one it’s an opportunity to control how your work gets out into the world.

So what sort of artist am I?

I think I’m clearer about what sort of artist I’m not. I’m not one to do artificial networking in trendy cool places. I’m not worried about being “spotted”. I’m not wanting to do craft fairs/art fairs, even though I could probably make more money that way. I’ve done that before and I find it eats my brain, my heart, my soul. I don’t think I’m going to make any money. I don’t want people to tell me what to do. I don’t want commissions.

I want to do my own thing, have my own thoughts, carry on my conversations, online here, and emails to other friends and artists, the continued conversations, difficult or otherwise. I want to make stuff. I want to band together with my fellow art teachers, protesting about the current state of things. I want to accidentally network with people I find I have an affinity with. I like doing things locally – well, within 30 miles or so.

A re-evaluation then:

Don’t spend weeks writing proposals, spend weeks making work.

Photograph it properly.

Sort out my website – again.

Make stuff.

Write my blog(s).

Meet nice people.

Talk.

Write.

Make stuff.

Book a gallery space.

Make stuff.

Make stuff.

Show stuff, invite the nice people.

Talk more

Make more stuff.

Go to Bulgaria.

What do you reckon then? Am I being lazy? Complacent? Avoiding the real issues?

It took me 4 hrs to produce a 20 second sound recording. It includes a bit of heavy breathing, a yawn and a washing machine, and some squawky words sung badly. It’s pretty rubbish, but I’m hoping to build on it. I had this idea that this time I would do it on my own, well mostly. Flying Solo as it were. It will take me ages, I fumble around, take an hour to figure out how to do something, then scrap it because it doesn’t do what I wanted it to. However… I find I am determined. Determined to create something that sounds decent, that I feel ok playing to other people, in a public place, perhaps another performance?

A friend (poet and musician and singer Heather Wastie http://www.WastiesSpace.co.uk/Wasties_Space/INFO.html ) introduced me to this piece by Steve Reich, this youtube link is just a short snip, but go seek it out, it’s beautiful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hd1Hx0vZIDE

I felt at once both inspired and disheartened, I could never make anything like this, but it has such a feel to it that I strive for, an emotional push, a connection with people and real life. Thanks Heather, for showing him to me.

It seems, having said I’m not going to take on any more, the world is helping me… the proposal I spent weeks writing has been rejected. The studio day I had planned has been postponed until after Christmas.

I’ve had a couple of grim days, not helped by an accidental bathroom tiling incident that has held the job back a couple of days. I would quite like to have a fully functioning bathroom by the weekend, but unless the second new bath arrives today that’s looking unlikely. “What has all this got to do with my art practice?” I hear you say – this is supposed to be an artist’s blog after all!

Well. Real life gets in the way. A mood can turn on a single incident, then spiral downwards out of control. I’m kind of paralysed, held in limbo by the peripheral occurrences around the selfish, self-obsessed centrality of my art. I find myself unable to make decisions, to settle to any task. I pither around looking at the inches of plaster dust in my house, physically and mentally unable to deal with any of it until the job is done and the men have gone, and I can reclaim the place my own.

I’m sure I will then turn into some sort of housework fiend, clear the decks, wash my hair*, have a shower, bake some cakes, put the kettle on and normal service will be resumed.

Can’t wait!

*My hair is a beast all its own, on a good day, it looks like a yew hedge that has had a good deal of topiary expertise spent on it. On a bad day I look like one of those rare-breed sheep that has been lost on the moors for 3 years. I have been known to find extra pairs of spectacles in there, and quite often a selection of pencils. Some days I wish it was taller, then I could keep my cheque book in it, like Marge Simpson, and dispense with the need for a handbag all together.

I cannot take on anything else, no matter how interesting, unless it involves actually making something. I’m spending way too much time emailing, writing, organising, texting, phoning, planning. I need to make, or will go slowly, quietly, sinkingly mad.

I was so scared post MA, that nothing would happen, I dived into too many things. None of these things have really come to much as yet, but they overwhelm me and have used up all my time. So enough is enough. I’m hoping that by saying this here, I will stick to the intention. I will wait for things to come to fruition, or not. Then when all these current irons in fires fizzle out, THEN I’ll look at something else.

I think I need to make one of my lists…

THINGS TO MAKE:

Socks A and B additions

Silk dress embroidery

Silk top embroidery

Make some Christmas presents

Print some cards

Hangings for school (with y5)

Mosaic for school (with everyone)

Finish the handmark quilt

Finish the Purple and Lime quilt

Finish the disappearing nine patch quilt

Finish the Cord Allotment quilt

Hmmm…. Four unfinished quilts…. Get on with it woman!

• 
• 
• 
•