There's the odd little folded vase I'm pretty proud of.



There's some thinking about Fairfield Porter that Anna shared.
There's the kickass rock 'n roll band that's coming to my town shortly (alas I might hafta miss).
There's the short week-ness and the crazy busy sketching I've been up to.
There's the paintings in process that are emerging from the mess of the fire.

There's some good work here and I'm enjoying exploring these shows even if the phrase "cutting edge" makes my tummy hurt.
There's a reason I haven't blogged much, a reason I haven't called, a reason I'm making more art and trouble than sound financial decisions, visits to friends, or healthy meals. The tofu remains uncooked.
(I just don't know what those reasons are yet).
take good care,
Rachael

My dear sweet (and very talented artist curator friend) Lisa keeps asking how she can help by setting up an Amazon wishlist or some sort. Everyone's been so generous already that I don't think it's necessary. But, that said, I did lose all my art books and have been slowly rebuilding by buying used interesting art books. The one I'm reading now is this smart little book about the art market and auction world. Truly, I bought it because it's so pretty but the author, Judith Benhamou-Huet, is clearly and articulately pointing out again and again how messed up the entire auction, collection and market system is for art.
I've been skeptical for years about the too close ties between collectors (the rich and nouveau riche) and protectors (curators and museum folk) and especially because I think the value of art is not in it's rarity but should be in it's everpresence.
I guess what I mean is that by making and sharing and connecting and distributing and encouraging and shouting about art we are truly serving the social purpose of art. We don't make art for money (at least I don't know anyone who does), we make art because we have to, because it can make good, because it can be shared, not purchased for ridiculous amounts of money at notoriously nefarious auction houses by people who will covet, hide, and use objects to bolster their social status or support their ego. I think most collectors collect because they love the things, but is love hoarding objects or sharing them?
I have more idea sorting to do and am still reading. And yes you can send me a booklist of things to read. I have 2 (count em!) library cards and no real desire to hoard books like I have before, ideas are weightless but books are heavy...
long holiday weekend coming and plenty of time to think, paint, read and sleep. Ah! May yours be as lovely, take care
Rachael

I'm feeling it. My mornings and odd moments in the squatter studio are starting to pay off and I picked up some of my ceramic pieces including a successful experiment using glazes as a patchwork pattern. Here's a visual sampler and my warm regards. I'm not talking much today just trying to keep at the thinking, reading, drawing, painting and feeling back on my feet.


take care,
Rachael

My day job has been busy this week, a blur of people and phone calls and requests and connecting folks to the art education they want. But it has been good to be able to sneak away at breaks and before or after work to paint or draw in my squatter studio. I've been messing around glazing and collaging and combining and mucking up the bits and pieces of paintings that made it out of the old place. I'd forgotten how much fun it is to glaze and glop paint.
And I'm a little glazed over from thinking about how people make art as well as the why we do it. What's the reason we're all so compelled to make stuff?
In my meager moments to spin around the web, I found:
Danny's good little step by step up of his illustration process
This nice opportunity for sculptors
and the Haida house in Brooklyn I needed to see today.
thanks for all the compliments, dear new friends, and for all the support, dear old pals, take care,
Rachael

Today, at a friend's suggestion and thanks to her kind gift, I started reading some of Donald Hall's poems about the illness and death of his wife Jane Kenyon. These are powerful and painfull stuff, more meaningful the more I sit with them (and I only learned of it today and have only cracked the book open a few times.) I am thinking again of the healing, processing, and communicating power of poems and pictures in times of loss. We were so lucky to have not lost human life in the fire but I am struck by how quickly things can change, how temporary our lives are, and how much we can give to each other in the telling of our stories and the sharing of our experiences.
I'm finding now that my potential painting pile (those pieces changed but not gone) is large. I'm hoping that if I can imbue them with some more truth, color, energy, and honor the history of their "being smoked out and dampened", and let them say something about this whole process, this story, they will be better. They will be done.
At least until the next fire, flood, typhoon, war, seizure of art, etc. All things are temporary. Nothing can be guaranteed, so a few drawings in the sketchbook are in order and then a good nights sleep. I urge you to do the things you are compelled to do tomorrow, take risks, skirt the edges of your potential. Be of use as Marge Piercy so aptly put it in a poem that moved me today.
take care, Rachael