So I told my friend that I'd make a little painting for her. I'd paint an image of a snapshot she has of herself and her sweetie. And I thought, " Oh, it'll be a small little watercolor, it'll be easy"...


And then I tried it, and tried it, and tried it again. And then I took a walk, took a nap, tried tracing the photo, consider gridding it, tried a value study and then trashed it. And in the end, I remain unsatisfied (but certain that I've overworked them all... maybe trying a time limited version after a bath will work...) but reminded that making art to make others happy isn't easy, even if it has it's own set of rewards. When done right, an image like this can capture what she loves about him, what he loves about her, how tightly connected they are, and can trigger some of the memories of that camping trip. Or maybe my high expectations are what is damning the project? Who knows, who cares, it's an excuse to look, to draw, to work...


I'm in the middle, too, of the cleaning and sorting and unpacking process which sometimes results in pretty little piles like this one...


take care,
Rachael

I'm flubbergusted, amazed, amused, disturbed, and thrilled by these suits by Anna Maltz (which I first heard about at Carolyn's blog from which I went here ) which are art, social commentary, performative sculpture, and cold weather strategy all at once. Damn that is smart, but also sort of sad, silly, poignant but I was amazed by the cold hard meanness, spammyness, and scared-ness of the commenters here. How scary is a false, fake, furry naked family? How scary is a family? How original is a costume? Well, I say it's not merely the original idea but the power of it. And these suits are powerful enough to pose questions in my head. How do you dress your family in fake fur naked suits and what questions does that raise?

The Superman suits brought to mind a wonderful This American Life story (How To Win Friends and Influence People, 11/2/01, Episode 198).

I'd write more but it'd be dumb drivel since my heart ain't in it today, kids, I just want to draw...

bye,
Rachael

No time to draw that, but I wonder if I would have seen it if I wasn't taught a long time ago to be looking.

that's all.
take care,
Rachael

I got turned on to this website from the Yale University Art Gallery by a colleague. The What is Art section had me thinking and asking more questions, and then I had a good time wandering through the Permanent Collection. A few minutes of looking at a digital picture of the Mesopotamian bowl alone was enough to get me thinking anew about some old stuff. The whole site is swell, proof I guess that a good collection, a lot of work and some money grease make for more and better ways to meet the mission (here ). But I don't know how I feel when the museum becomes the website. Where is the stuff from the Terra now that the Terra is no more? Huh? Just wanted to tell you about that schtuf... take care, Rachael

A few days ago I had a good conversation with an old friend and fellow traveler (not necessarily a red , mind you, but anyway...) who is working on a project to document and understand one small part of the big wide world of museum education. That's the work I do. It's the work I love, the work I spent a long time figuring out how to do, the work that feeds my art and is fed by my process, the work I joke that I took a vow of poverty for. (Actually my story is a lot like Christopher's here but I cycled back to a full-time job in which art is embedded). I joke, I jest, I go to work everyday. The talk I had with my friend reminded me that the work we do is important, it's odd, it's often invisible, and it requires a specific kind of scrappy, smart, and ambitious folk.
My friend, reminded me about how I used to share info about finding museum and non-profit art opportunities. I don't have that pamphlet anymore, but I do have some of the same leads and some better ones....

For job and art opportunities, try bookmarking and often checking the boards at NYFA, the Southern Arts Federation, and AAM.

The simplest ways to educate yourself and others about works of art would be, I guess, to adopt the simple strategies most museum educators I know use...
remain open to new art and ideas, even when they are very old
ask lots of questions of people that have more experience, education, and passion than you but don't assume that their answers are the only answers
get in front of the work as often as you can
look longer
try to make something similar, the process of making will teach you more about that work
let yourself be lead by the things that fascinate you...

Like guys from Venice who wander all around the world. Yup. My fascination with Marco Polo is back after I saw a little thing in the Wall Street Journal that a house he is rumored to have lived in is for sale in Venice. Maybe Marco Polo is just a kids swimming pool game to you but he's an inspiration, a wacky fascination, and a daydream to me. A good museum ed project that helps 'splain it a little is here at the Met and every couple of years National Geographic does a story where they send a writer and a photographer to follow Marco's journey. (This is a good Marco Polo section, too, and now I'll have to seek that music out.)

And finally, if you know a kid who likes to read, especially a 10 to 15 year old kid, give them a copy of Linda Sue Park's A Single Shard. The story spins out from Korean celadon ceramics. Oh and then take the kid to a good collection of Korean ceramics and help them figure it out, be amazed, and excited.

I'm off to make more bread, make more messes, work and wander.

Take good care,
Rachael