Sketches!

Here are some sketches representative of the pieces I am currently working on. Some are only parts of images, while others show the entirety (well, more or less) of a piece.

They represent images I intend to paint digitally and traditionally, using a variety of media and techniques.

Curious? I hope you stay tuned for what is to come!

"Lion/ess" (WIP)

I have a few works in progress right now. It feels amazing to constantly be working on this or that; I was so very inspired by my last residency at Goddard College a few weeks ago. This was one of the pieces I presented there, at one of our Considered Space critique sessions.

This is the first piece that I've done completely digitally, though it began its life on canvas. This iteration only came about because I was having so much difficulty rendering the     fantastical (male) feline and (human) female elements in a way I felt worked together well. In all honesty, they are still a work in progress.

Those of you that follow me on Facebook and Twitter have seen this in its original form, on canvas. What do you all think of the differences?

Stay tuned for more!

Why Beginnings Suck and Why You Have To Begin Anyway

Note: I share this post from Kesha Bruce's blog, as it sums up a lot of what I've been feeling lately. Beginnings do suck. Begin anyway.

"Let me take the idea that has gotten me this far, and put it to bed. What I'm about to do will not be that. But it will be something." -Ze Frank 

This week I’m back in the studio full time after a long hiatus while I was working on other things.

I’ve managed to clear a lot of blur and noise from my life so I can just focus on making my work for the next few months.

Beginnings are scary.

Sure, beginnings can be craaaaazy exciting, but they can also suck. A lot. 

Momentum is a powerful thing, but at the beginning of any new project—you have none. 

Right now I am at the grunting, groaning, “this sucks so effing much” part.

My only reassurance being “I’ve done this before, I can probably do it again.”

Here’s the thing: When you start, you always start from the beginning.

There are no short cuts worth taking.

Just begin.

 


Kesha Bruce is an artist and the director of Baang and Burne Contemporary Art in New York. Her ideas on art marketing and creativity can be found on her blog at www.keshabrucestudio.com.

"Games as Art" at the Grassroots Gaming Conference

I like games.

I like design.

When I found out there was a Grassroots Games Conference here in Philadelphia, and, as part of that conference, there was a Games as Art track, I was intrigued. I think the majority of those in attendance were developers; I was surprised to find out that the very first presenter was an artist. “Labs, Galleries and Arcades: Making Space(s) for Art/Games” was the name of this presentation. The presenter was Sarah Brin, Creative Director of GlitchLab LA, an arts organization dedicated to experiments in participatory new media, and co-founder of PEG-LA, a playtest group for games in public spaces. She talked about games as ‘experiences’ and ‘social culture’ and spoke of the shared nostalgia among those who grew up playing various types of games. Her ideas about and examples of participatory new media are inspiring: arcade cabinets and games brought into the gallery spaces, encouraging reciprocity between art and viewers. Those same games, brought into parties and other social spaces, sought to challenge ideas about what art is and where it belongs. The next event was a rather informal panel—“Games and Gamification as Art Practice”—that set out to explore the methods and processes extending creative work into game environments. The panelists came from a variety of backgrounds such as painting, illustration, and graphic design, and all made art clearly inspired by games while tackling a variety of societal concerns such as urban blight. Of course, there were some works inspired by various internet and pop culture memes. Styles ranged from those found in hyper realistic next gen games like those for the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 to heavily pixelated works reminiscent of 8-bit games like those for the Atari 2600 and Nintendo Entertainment Systems.

I began to imagine my own art in a different framework, one with an element of participation and engagement, maybe even play. I thought of the roleplaying game, in which players are immersed in an environment and are tasked with playing through a story. I like the idea of a kind of reciprocity between image, artist, and viewer. At any rate, it is something I am going to think more about, with the goal of possibly incorporating it into my work.

The final event was a panel presentation exploring the intersection of art and video games including Alyce Myatt, Director for Media Arts at the National Endowment for the Arts; Georgina Goodlander, coordinator for The Art of Video Games exhibition at the Smithsonian Museum of American Art; Sarah Brin, Creative Director of GlitchLab LA, an arts organization dedicated to experiments in participatory new media, and co-founder of PEG-LA, a playtest group for games in public spaces; and James Swirsky & Lisanne Pajot, the filmmakers behind the award-winning documentary, Indie Game: The Movie. To say I was shocked that a major museum like the Smithsonian even cared enough about video games to have an exhibition made up of them is an understatement. Ms. Goodlander did not hesitate to emphasize that this exhibit was not made up of ‘art’ or ‘indie’ games, but of familiar, mainstream titles. She talked about the preservation of games and consoles as part of the museum’s permanent collection, and how the recent funding from the NEA to games and game-related projects helped her justify such an exhibit to those who run the Smithsonian. The panelists also discussed topics like the place of video games in art history.

Apparently, the NEA is just beginning to provide funding for games and game-related projects. Ms. Myatt briefly discussed this round of projects. She seemed excited and hopeful for the future of this particular branch of media arts.

I think I am too.

Unsatisfied

There are times when it is difficult to translate the cerebral to the visual.

My responses to the murder of seventeen-year-old Trayvon Martin made me want to paint, so overwhelming was my outrage, helplessness, and anger. I've written pages and pages in my journals--about the media coverage of this case, about the lack of innocence that implied for those born into a black body, about all the things I felt were done incorrectly by local law enforcement--and I needed to release all of this.

I had a drawing I began months ago whose original story (if there was one) is lost to me now. I began expanding upon it in hopes that I could create a specific visual code to express all that I felt. First, I felt I needed to include the most enduring symbol of this case, the hoodie Trayvon wore the rainy February night he was killed. I then planned to let go, to see where thought and feeling took this piece as I became a mere vessel for the story this painting needed to tell.

Many days have passed. I remain unsatisfied with the image I've created. I realize that it is incomplete. Still, there is more here, trapped between my head, my heart, and my hands.

A new adventure...at the heart of my mind!

I've now returned from my first semester's residency at Goddard College.

Goddard College - Port Townsend, WA

I'm full of new ideas and a renewed curiosity. My study plan is all about creating a more 'body-centered' art practice, because if all the labels of race, gender, sexual orientation, and sexuality are stripped away, what remains? Someone commented that this seemed to be my way to connect form to process and content in my work, and I can't help but agree.

What will the 'body-centered' part of this look like?

From my Spring 2012 study plan:

In order to build a more embodied art practice, I will work with manual processes and traditional media: figure drawing, large paintings that use my entire body, sculptural body casts, and linocuts, lithographs, and serigraphs made by hand. I recognize that it is possible to engage in these very physical processes and not reconnect with my body. To that end, I will use movement: Kundalini yoga, the sensory-based Nia, ecstatic dance, and the movement-based acting technique known as Viewpoints. As I do these exercises, I want to record the knowledge from my body in a journal. What will begin as weekly classes I want to become part of my daily life. The works I intend to make this semester will focus on the female form in ways I never have before, as my own body awareness increases. My body has nearly three decades of stories gathered within it. It is time for me to learn to listen to them.    

Wait. What? Serigraphs? Lithographs? Yes. I have long wanted to explore more and varied printmaking processes, because I am curious and because different printmaking techniques yield very different looking results. I'd like to spend a bit this semester playing with media of all kinds, even if nothing tangible comes from it. No matter the media, though, I want to concentrate on my body as subject and object in my work.

I have a feeling this will lead to lots of very interesting work.

Oh, and feel free to recommend other artists whose work I should look at, books I should read, or shows I should check out.

Disconnect (Letting Go is Flying)

Disconnect (Letting Go is Flying)
©07/2011
12"x18"
mixed media on paper
This piece is available for purchase.

There is such a thing as too much self-awareness.

This piece came from a repetitive theme in some of my journal entries: a feeling of disconnect between my physical body and my emotions or between myself and other people. It wasn't even something I recognized as such until I heard the song Private Party by India.Arie.

"I'm gonna take off all my clothes
Look at myself in the mirror
We're gonna have a conversation
We're gonna heal the disconnection
I don't remember when it started
But this is where it's gonna end
My body is beautiful and sacred
And I'm gonna celebrate it"

In dreams, a very clear picture of myself emerged. I was light and airy, floating like a balloon, my disconnection from my physical self never more obvious. It was my way of separating the parts of myself that I believed were valuable and worthy from those parts that made me frustrated, angry, that I hurt and that hurt other people.

"All my life (all my life)
I've been looking for (I've been looking for)
Somebody else
To make me whole
But I had to learn the hard way
True love begins with me
This is not ego or vanity
I'm just celebrating me"

No matter where and how far I run, I will still be there...and that's okay.