The first day of school, work, any new adventure is the most nerve-wracking thing for me.
I know who I am and where I'm going (sort of) but I don't ever know I'll fit until I do. So then the planning and packing and preparing to go away is good for me but I'm a little goofy. Less important than whether or not I remember to remember everything (as my mama told me once, all I really need is my wallet, my keys and my sense of self) is the truth that I have a couple of days to get over this stupid, nagging, fear that I'll blow it.
I'll squander my moment to make and then I won't be able to find another one. It's not true but then fears and nagging worries rarely are. I have opportunities to make art every single day. In fact, I could stop typing right now, walk 10 feet and pick up a paint-brush. But my day job (which I love and which sometimes threatens to swallow me whole) is staring me down saying somethings like:
Allllright kid, you've got two weeks to make your silly art and then I've got you in my grip for the rest of the summer and quite possibly the rest of your life!!!
Now, I know this stuff is silly and these are irrational fears but the lure of a few weeks in relative isolation with nothing much to do except make art is so exciting it has me also nervous.
I'm going to stop my babbling right now, put the last couple of things in the suitcase, make my last day at work to do list and most importantly, I think, go sit on the porch and paint a bit.
I've decided to leave the computer (and quite possibly the digital camera) at home so I don't know when I'll be blogging next but when it is, I'll be fresh in/or from my Penland adventure and with more to say, more relaxed and less nervy than now...
thanks for listening and take good care of yourselves, friends,
Rachael

I've been waiting and anticipating the arrival of one of my very favorite people in the whole wide world who is moving with her small family from big Brooklyn to not-so-big Buffalo. Yep, the famous art critic Nona Kasparov is coming. She and I met in BFLO a dozen years ago and we've both grown so much since (like weeds really) but we both felt these pulls back to western new york. So my adventure coming back happened about 2 years ago and Nona's (aka Deb's) adventure is beginning right about now. She'll grow well in this soil.

And I simply can't wait to get myself to Penland and two delightful weeks of making, thinking and re-generating. I hope to come back with a clearer understanding of what I'm making and why and a lot of made stuff...

I found some purple Oxalis at the public market the other day and it reminded me of Lisa and was a kick to plant it in the back of my garden.

Oh and I've been reading (devouring really) catalogs of recent shows by Arthur and Reds, fine artists both who made some great stuff in western new york. So yes, Nona, it can be done and it will be done and I just can't wait to have you closer!

goodnight,
Rachael

Well then, even with the best of intentions I have not been able to sit down and write in this blog for what feels like forever. I have little to offer other than the story of what I've been up to and a snippet from my sketchbook. I bought the 'good kind' again which has lovely watercolor paper and I've been packing my waterbrush and magic markers on the bus.

While not excuses, I'll tell you there's a whole helluva lot going on in balduffington land:

I'm mildly obsessed with reading and growing stuff. I ate my first garden harvest tonight (mesclun salad mix) and can't get my nose out of a book.

A week from right now I will be in Penland with a little more than 2 weeks to explore my art, get more connected to making work that connects to the world, and making more friends.

I've been getting up early or staying up late painting on the back porch trying to sort out a couple of things before I get to Penland.

I'm re-reading all flavors of art history, appreciation, and criticism (but mostly of the Gombrich and Panofsky and Schapirosort) as planning for a class I'll teach in the Fall. It's funny but re-visiting ideas I first found 10 or 15 years ago is eerie as mostly they've played true in my experience. Thing is that these guys really looked at and really loved art and were seeking ways to mesh it with their lives even if they mostly wrote in an authority voice. It's a warm authority voice.

I've been working on big change at the day job (we implemented a fine new system this week that simply changes the every process we go through while keeping the core values we have and hopefully helping people more.)

And maybe there will be more words soon and maybe there won't be but I'm feeling good about work and play and my real work of making art and instigating necessary change.
onward and upward, I suppose...
Rachael

Just the other day I was talking about being unsure creatively and that hasn't totally gone away but I am more than pleased to report that my confidence is rising. I have a little bounce in my step and it's hard to keep my pencil away from my sketchbook. I want to get these ideas out. I want to keep trying to get to the best of the new ideas while salvaging the smartest of the stuff that's been hanging around. So what changed in a week?
I recently sold 8 paintings. Each person looked carefully and chose paintings which I was pretty fond of myself (such as Pastoral below). They understood key things about the work and made their own meanings and connotations while patiently listening to me and mine.
And the very fact that folks I am not related to happened upon my work and like it so much that they will make an investment in my paintings...well, it's proof.

Maybe I oughta be doing exactly what I am doing even if I'm not always sure what I'm doing. Maybe I don't have to know.
This is not the first time that smart people have bought my art and (cross your fingers) it won't be the last. But because I don't show with a gallery and because I don't invest the kind of time I used to in marketing my work, it's a real thrill to sell work.
When making (sometimes, not always) the doubts set in. When I walk by the paintings, I worry, do I know what I'm doing? But I love to paint. I like to make the silly things work and I have a lot to get out in those colors and forms. When other people love my work, when they love it enough to buy it, when they love it enough to tell me, when they are inspired and excited to make their own work...dang, it's a great feeling.
So, then, a warm and wonderful thank you to everybody who ever bought a Buffington or a Baldanza or ever gave me an honest compliment. Your words help me push past the doubts and keep me futzing along with these paintings.
And it's about time, too, that I step outside of my little coccoon and start looking more at the art and artists around me. There are some very talented and hardworking painters and potters in this part of the world and I promise to tell you about them. I just have to carve a little time to look and a little time to write about it.
Tonight, though, I'm going to clean and futz and enjoy the high of knowing that my my paintings hang and are about to hang in other people's houses and make some sort of small impact on other people's lives.
That said, there's a practical part of any art sale for me. I get to buy more art supplies...
Glory glory fabriano!
goodnight,
Rachael

By far the best thing I heard today was Muriel Rukeyser reading a poem about soda and hot dog stands at the end of over-worded days and social conventions and binary oppositions and what language means. It's worth the 47 cents or the trip to the library and it reminded me that words aren't definite even if we need them to be.
goodnight,
Rachael