I received notice yesterday that I have been awarded one of the Greater Columbus Arts Council Artist in the Community Supply Grants! This is a one-time, per project, funding. I will use the funds to create a site-specific installation at Paper Circle Gallery. It will remain up for the duration of the solo show (May 22-July 5). Elements of coal, clay, salt and paper will make up the installation. I am so excited! This is my first grant and I could not be more grateful for the support of GCAC and the City of Columbus. Thank you Mayor Coleman!
Between a full-time job with a publishing company, freelancing, getting ready to move in three months and being mid-production for my solo-show coming up in May, I am beyond busy. It's easy to feel stressed. Sometimes one needs a simple reminder...
“Simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures.
Simple in actions and thoughts, you return to the source of being.
Patient with both friends and enemies,
you accord with the way things are.
Compassionate toward yourself,
you reconcile all beings in the world.”
― Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
This phrase supports the Bound Series. My partner has expressed some confusion about what I've been making. "What does it mean?", "It's just ___ and ___". I am not sure how to respond to the question "what does it mean?" anymore. I know it's a simplified version of what are the conceptual underpinnings and it's making me very aware of how helpful a material list is in answering questions like these. When making work, the why in a choice of materials is really important to me. It's something I try and ask other artists when evaluating their work as well.
Many of the objects are combinations of 2-3 simple materials. They exist in and of themselves. They mean whatever you feel they should. My intention is to highlight the simplicity in the objects. They are aesthetically pleasing and feminine. Creating them is a very physical, tactile act for me. It brings me hope that we can still find value in things that exist simply in and of themselves. When this year began and I was just making things for the value of touch and handling materials, I was really unsure of where these "experiments" would go. There were, are still are, a lot of days where I question myself. What the fuck are you doing/will anyone else even care? Patience. I am on to something and the creative fog is still clearing. John Cage said "don't try to create and analyze at the same time". Excellent advice.
This speech is just too good not to share. Rob went to school with a very dear friend of mine, Dana Harper.
It’s a heavy question. I typically preface these types of statements with “I think” or “I feel” in order to avoid making any general statements. Let’s assume that all the following statements have those prefacing them.
The responsibility of the artist is to have hope. Regardless of medium or conceptual underpinnings, the artist should have a sense of hope. Maybe that hope is social. Maybe it’s challenging the media. Is this hope essential in making contemporary work? Work that creates a new future or perception for the medium and it’s relationship to the audience? In my practice, I want to be inspiring hope that we can return back to relationships mediated without technology. Life is so dependent on it now. It’s convenient, yes. There’s no arguing that aspect. The easy access to knowledge is amazing. How have these advancements affected our personal relationships? The one-on-one moment?
The artist must have hope for themselves and society. We’ve all faced rejection. As an artist, it becomes part of your daily life. For every acceptance, grant, award...there’s 20 more you applied for and didn’t receive. One has to have a sense of personal hope to continue making despite these rejections.
In the grandest sense, artists have hope that all people's "pure" endeavors can alter the current course of society.