*languishes*/ETA *squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*

***Wordpress is still not spacing correctly.  *FLAILS*  Mad squid is mad.***

     I’m waiting to hear about The Art Garage competition I entered.  I haven’t heard anything yet.

     *is jittery and crazy to know*

ETA:  I just got the call that my both of my pieces were accepted! *EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*

     Totally compounded by the fact that I now volunteer there.  Talk about a conflict of interests.  <–I was told it wasn’t, but y’all know me, I can’t help but be a worry-wart.

     So, I had promised that I was going to post pictures of the sculptures that I entered.  I was waiting until today because–I don’t know–it seemed appropriate to wait until the competition is over?  Does that even make sense?

     So, my (not-so) little friends.

     The prompt for the show was–

Seeking works of art in all media that focus on personal memories and the essence of our past. Artwork will need to be created with some recycled materials in order to promote the importance of being environmentally responsible.

     And the application asked for–

A brief artist statement must be submitted with the images explaining what inspired this piece of artwork and what recycled materials were used.

     So, my first piece is unnamed friends:  from the 100 acre wood, and it is, basically, a tree stump (yes, there is a joke in here about my nickname being ‘Trie [tree]).

     This thing was crazy to make and is freaking huge.  It’s about 4 feet tall, hand built (and sewn) from brown paper grocery bags (building a tree from dead trees makes sense to me), has a felt face with buttons, and has crocheted accents and a cardboard interior frame.

     It took a really long time to build.

     The other piece is also quite large.

     Okay, it’s huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge too.  Nearly 4 feet again.

     I keep making things that are nearly the size of me. o.O

     The second piece is unnamed friends:  narwhal, and it is built from old coats that were purchased from the local Goodwill.

     Again with the “it took forever to build.”  Considering I hand-sew everything, that makes sense, but then again, I wouldn’t get the same fluidity and–yes, I’ll admit it–awkwardness if I didn’t hand-sew.

     The artist statement for these pieces was–

The inspiration for unnamed friends:  from the 100 acre wood and unnamed friends:  narwhal comes from a combination of kawaii culture, children’s storybook narratives like Winnie the Pooh, and memories of my own most beloved toys.  The scale of the sculptures, in relationship to an adult, evokes the feeling of childhood where everything feels large and strange—even one’s toys.  The materials, even though they are primarily recycled, gesture to those parts of childhood that are recycled from others:  clothes that have been handed down, toys that have been inherited or made from old clothes, and books that belonged to older siblings.

The recycled materials in unnamed friends:  from the 100 acre wood include brown paper grocery bags, cardboard from a shipping container (ironically from Dick Blick), and felt inherited from another artist.  The recycled materials in unnamed friends:  narwhal include a leather coat and a suede-and-faux-fur coat from Goodwill.

     So, those are my friends.  They took weeks and are taking up huge amounts of real estate in my current studio, but they are so freaking cool.

     I shall sleep the sleep of the accomplished tonight. \o/

The Fiction Project

So, as I’ve said previously, I’m participating in “The Fiction Project” which is described as

“Share a story.

Calling all authors, ‘zine makers, comic-book writers, diarists, poets and storytellers: Our library needs your words!

The Fiction Project is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. Add your voice to this year’s coast-to-coast tour and create new work grounded in the act of writing. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library’s narrative collection, archiving your stories to share them with the public.

Anyone – from anywhere in the world – can be a part of the project. To participate and receive a journal that will travel with the 2011 tour, start by choosing a theme to the right.”

 

My theme is “It will be fun.  I swear.”  I’m kinda trying to decide what to do for it.  They want 51% of the moleskin to be handwritten text (not a big deal), but I’m not sure what to write about.

 

Suggestions?

 

I’ve been thinking about the zombie!bunny apocalypse or detailing the misadventures of Stymie (all Justin’s fault).

 

Maybe both?

 

I can see it now–haiku poetry about the ending of everything and death brought on the rotting, softly plophop of zombie!bunnies.

 

So cute.  So deadly.  So smelly.

 

In my defense, there hasn’t been a zombie!bunny novel yet (as far as I know); the best that I can come up with in that department is Bunnicula.  Obligatory Wikipedia article over————————->here.

 

Did y’all know that there was a third book in the series?  I mean, so few people know about The Celery Stalks at Midnight, but I’ve never heard of Howliday Inn.

 

Actually, there’s a bunch of Bunnicula books.  Maybe there’s a zombie!bunny in there somewhere?

 

With Stymie, I’m not sure what I would write about.  I have this weird thing going in my head that he’s very sad and morose–kinda like Eeyore–but that he bounced and drip-drops like one of those post-egg but pre-limb Digimon.

 

The Husband and I were also playing with Stymie’s plushie rendition and decided that he can fly, but in order to fly, he has to flip himself upside-down.  And, then, he kinda putputputs rather than zoooooooooooooms.

 

Maybe, that should be the plan; somehow, have the “It will be fun.  I swear.” as part of the shennanigans that Stymie and his other awkward friends get into and have little pencil/pastel drawings and plushie things in there.

 

*plots*

 

This might work.

 

I’d still be happy for suggestions or prompts, so feel free to share or suggest.

 

*tra lala la las away*

Making up for the spamming…

It seems like everything I’ve been posting of last has been promotional spam.

I apologize.  That isn’t fair to y’all who wander through here looking for weird squid-made art to look at.  ’Cause, really, why would y’all want to read the stuff I write for Handmade News; it’s more than a little dull, I think.

*POINTS*  See!  See what I did there?  It’s insidious and nefarious.  That promotion–stuff–is infiltrating every aspect of my life, and it has got to stop.

The real point of this post, aside from profuse apologies, was to show y’all what deconstructing pierott looked like in action.  It was accepted to an online magazine, which I’ll pass along when it’s going to be published!, and they wanted a short video for it! \o/  So, here it is–

Creative Commons LicenseThis work is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

The piece itself if over in my wearable art section along with several of my other pieces, but in case y’all don’t remember what it looks like in its non-worn form, here are the images.

My lovely model in the video is my friend Genna.  The model in the photographs is my lovely model and flatmate Ian.

Creative Commons LicenseThis work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

deconstructing pierott

2008
3’6”x1’6”, dimensions vary
chicken wire, feather trim, tulle, ribbon, paper, jingle bells

deconstructing pierott is a wearable art piece that deconstructs the idea of the pierrot from commedia dell’arte while simultaneously referencing late 19th and early 20th century women acrobats and gesturing at the movie Prophecy. In its deconstruction, this piece also addresses the issue of being female, its restrictions, and the way in which women, even today, are displayed. The piece also jingles when it is worn to replicate the sound of the zany and the capering of the pierott.

What do crafters do when they aren’t crafting?

They write about crafting.

 

That’s right (no pun intended–okay, not much), crafters write.  Actually, Handmade News is looking for editors, columnists, and contributors.  Kinda shiny, yeah?  I submitted my application about 5 minutes ago. \o? <—-This is me being really nervous.

 

My submission, which I’m hoping wasn’t too craptastic, fits very well with The Book that has been living in the back of my head.  So–here is my submission in all of its craziness.

 

As a fine artist and an avid crafter who has spent a great deal of her professional life hearing about how craft and art do not mix, I have to say that I do not agree.  We all come by different streets.  Art and craft are no different.  What one person considers “art” and another considers “craft” is completely subjective and likely to be based upon nothing more than the conventions that they have been trained to think within. 

 

Currently, there is a competition titled “Art vs. Design” brought to the art/craft/visually-oriented world by the wonderful people at Artists Wanted in Brooklyn, NY.  The PSA for this competition states that “This contest is designed to answer the age old question:  What shapes our world more, art or design?  The answer is up to you.”  While the competition itself seems to promote artificial divisions that have, for so long, divided the “fine arts” from any other type of visual creative practice, upon viewing the competition pieces, it seems that the competition is actually about the slippage between the places that once were brick and mortar walls.  If this subversive reminder that categories are not fixed was not enough, much of the actual “Art vs. Design” judging is conducted by anyone and everyone who comes to the site in a Threadless-type, by-committee vote.

 

Technology is democratizing the arts, and that democratization means that art is no longer the purview of the elite, and craft is no longer something that can be looked down upon as “kitchy” or “non-conceptual”.  It is no longer an “us” or “them” creative world; there is only “us” and “us” and what we chose to do with materials and ideas.

 

All of this—the melting of long held divisions, the merging of medium and practice, the choosing, like Picasso, of the best material or technique to achieve a specific end as well as the willingness to step outside of the stuffy expectations of previous generations—is what the old creative practices are becoming:  unified, whimsical, ironic, and more than a little sublime.

 

This type of creative practice—practices that I am seeing in other visual creators, I am seeing in my own artistic practice, and I hope to continue seeing for a long time to come—seems to be linked to a desire for craft to match concept and for art-making to be an extension of self-awareness rather than merely the next money-making venture or political protest.  And, as always, there is a need to not takes oneself too seriously.

 

 Now, I wait.  *WAITS*

always working: post-postmodernism in the studio

So, I don’t know if I have really said this were too many people can here it, but I’m working on a book.  The subject of this book is post-postmodernism and how it affects/effects different creative pursuits: art, craft, cooking, music, yada yada yada…

 

No, I’m not under contract; I’m just insane. \o/

 

This idea came about because I was trying to figure out where my art practice fit within the Fine Art World (FAW), and basically as the FAW stands now, I don’t think I do.  I’m conceptual but not so far conceptual where I’m willing to sacrifice aesthetic and form for concept.

 

And I keep seeing other artists, crafters, chefs, musicians, and writers who are concerned with the same sorts of things.  In particular, Faythe Levine and Cortney Heimerl, authors of Handmade Nation: The Rise of DIY, Art, Craft, and Design, have really begun to delve into these ideas of post-postmodernism without even mentioning the theoretical underpinnings.

 

So, ya know, y’all should read it.

 

But this *waves vaguely* is my idea.  I have the educational background to do it as well as access to several libraries, the aetherwebs, and my own devious, little brain.

 

Suggestions of books or articles to read, artists to look into, bands, crafters, chefs–anything and anybody that you think might fit–feel free to pass my way.

 

If people would even like to contribute to this text, even better.

 

I can’t guarantee that this book will eve be printed, but it will not be from lack of trying!