Zen of Cat #3

Oh, Tigger.

It's the Cheese #2

I am starting to get tired of eating cheese, but am willing to make sacrifices for my art.  For this one, I incorporated the box imagery into my painting.  Can you guess today's word?  Hint: it's not "camembert."  (Look below for what the camembert box looks like uncensored)

before

Think Magnetic Poetry #1

Here is, bit by bit, my contribution to an upcoming show on censorship. Valise Gallery/collective is putting on this open-invitation, all-island show (opening May 6^th).

I am making an untitled piece similar to the one in yesterday’s post.  This time I am using camembert boxes (about 4 inches in diameter) to paint/draw on.  Each one will have a word on it, so they can be assembled to make different sentences.  Think "magnetic poetry".

Here is the first of six.

If you can't beat them, annoy them

I left art school for a few years (also known as “dropping out”).  Things at Otis changed a lot in those years, including the addition of stupid, pretentious classes and categories of majors which have since disappeared.  The new trend reminded me of high school, when being “original” was the easiest way to conform (the 552^nd punk rocker isn’t quite as original as the first few, you know what I mean?).  So our junior year drawing class (which had formerly allowed for a very broad definition of drawing) was replaced by an “experimental drawing” class, where you were allowed to do anything except to just draw.  Unless, of course, you were to draw on an unconventional object, like a piece of wood or a band-aid. In other words, it’s okay if your work has no concept, as long as you make it look like it does, by using weird materials (just fake it, boys and girls).   My bologne-o-meter went through the roof. “You mean if I draw on a rock, it’s okay, but if I draw the exact same drawing on paper, it’s not okay?”  “Exactly.”  “You realize you are actually limiting what constitutes drawing, not expanding it, right?”  It was very emperor’s new clothes with everyone embracing it, as if it made sense.  I should have just used invisible materials and saved myself a lot of time and energy.  Instead, I decided to fake compliance while plotting my revenge. 

The project I decided on was a series of 16 drawings on the back of brie boxes, each one representing a word (see above, though I later changed a couple of boxes).  Once assembled, they would create a sentence that was nonsense (which is what I thought of the class, as a whole).  I spent the semester quietly working on my piece, one word at a time, using different styles and mediums for each.  The teacher was glad I had come around and gave me encouragement for my “concept”.  That is, until the last day of class when it was time to display our work and explain our concepts.  I'm sure I didn't say, "this piece is about what nonsense I think this assignment is," but it was something pretty close.  It may not have been the worst grade I ever got but, again, pretty close.

This Lady Is Cool

I love it when people defy the stereotype I have for them.  For example, I think I know that it takes a certain type of person to for a figure drawing class, and that type of person looks a certain way, shall we say "arty" (leaving the artist to wonder, "Do I draw the tattoos too?").  And then in walks this person who looks like she is here for the pta meeting, or maybe a bridge tournament, or Oprah's book club.  I am perplexed.  Intrigued.  And it makes me think "this lady is cool," based on nothing but observation and gross assumptions.  Isn't it fun to sum a person up in one sentence.  And then to pat oneself on the back for being willing to change the adjective.  Cool.