Just checking in... almost done.

Well, my first semester is drawing to a close, and as usual when time passes it simultaneously feels that it was the first day of class just a few days ago, and that I have lived here for years, that my life before graduate school never existed. There is only the rest of this week and next week, and then I have one of 6 semesters completed.

One neat thing is that my paper piece I had a disparate nature - my nature is disparate still was accepted into a juried show, a trade with a school in Pennsylvania organized by our graduate artist association. I'm still waiting for confirmation of the exact info of the show (the location, opening, etc) but once I learn it I will share it.

And I am finally nearing completion on my weaving piece, which I feel that I have been working on for ages. Sometimes it seems as though I have always been working on it. The white, stuttering sound wave went by relatively quickly; it is the brown, confident sound wave that is taking the most time commitment, as I have to paint the warp a dark brown, and each section I paint requires 4 - 5 coats with drying time in between. I'm finally approximately halfway done with the confident sound wave, so it looks like my goal of completing it by the end of the semester will be reached! Thank goodness. And although I love weaving, I will probably take a really long, much needed break from it before I attempt another piece.

Spring will be the time of paper and book art, and teaching my first college level course entirely on my own, Artists' Books. I'm excited, but also relatively nervous. I will spend the vast majority of winter break planning my curriculum and syllabus, and refreshing my knowledge of the simple book structures I will be teaching, as it has been a long while since I have made anything besides a fine binding.

...and I think that's pretty much all I have for now. I'll leave you with some images of the current state of the weaving.

20 Hors D'oeuvres

This past Thursday we had the opening of our first year MFA group show, 20 Hors D'oeuvres (appropriately named, as there are 20 of us, and we each had recently completed work, appetizers for the rest of the work we will create in graduate school).

I was fortunate enough to share a gallery room with my dear friend Iga Puchalska, who had a beautiful video installation of three projections entitled Conversation. We were able to build a small wall in between our two pieces, so that my lights would not affect her projections too much. I loved that both of our pieces were comprised of triptychs, in opposition to each other, both with aesthetics and with presentation.

Ms. Zoë Bare came in for the show, which was wonderful, and I picked her up from the train station, absolutely exhausted. It was quite a busy week, a week that made me somewhat lament that I am no longer a photographer, because it is certainly much easier to hang a frame on the wall than to install a paper/light piece! If it weren't for the help of my friends Jeremy Fox, Brian Montana, Nate Walters, Anna Miller, and Iga Puchalska, I most certainly would not have finished my installation in time. Thanks so much to all of you! Also, thank you to Brian, Zoë, and Loni Diep for helping with the deinstall!

Overall I was very pleased with the show and the opportunity to show with my fellow students.

Iga's installation, Conversation

My installation, I had a disparate nature - my nature is disparate still

Brian Montana's piece

Jason Judd's piece Robert Rauschenberg

R.J. Vanderwerf's piece (if you look closely you can see myself, Iga, and R.J.)

Anna Miller crouching next to her piece.

Lindsay Orloff at the left and center, Juan Fernandez at right.

Katy Bisby's painting on the left, Taryn Boals' at right and center.

Emily Franklin's Creeps and Sneaks

Aaron Coleman's prints on the left and right, Jason Judd's I'm Feeling Blue at center.

Spinney's screenprint, Bye Bye Baby Bunting

Michael Weigman, Lindsay Orloff, and Maria Dimanshtein

Janey McClain's paper installation, paper pillows filled with sand, Soon It Will Be Over

Mary Hintzen, Beer and Shampoo - a performance about alcoholism. A bath in ice water, pouring beer over her head, shampooing.
Photo by Juan Fernandez.

Iga and I at the conclusion of the opening! Photos by Jason Judd.

Zoë and I standing together (with our friend Brian in the background, being Brian)!
Photo by Emily Franklin.

Time contraints... alas

Unfortunately I must report that I will not be finished with my weaving piece in time for our MFA Group Opening this Thursday. I realized a few days ago that the situation was hopeless, that I could kill myself to finish it and even then it probably still wouldn't get done! I must admit that this process cannot be rushed, and in attempting to do so, I will just make mistakes over which I will always obsess and regret.
My goal is now to finish it in the next couple of weeks, and to also finish a new paper piece to enter in a show in Montreal which is due on the 15th.

For the show I will instead be exhibiting my piece I had a disparate nature, my nature is disparate still, the paper piece which I detailed in this entry. I am resolving the issue of the cords, and the audio tracks will also be included in the piece. I'm actually excited to have the necessary motivation to complete the piece.

Also, here is a current version of my artist statement:

Each piece I create is purposeful from beginning to end; it must be thoroughly planned and accurately realized. There is not a single action that is taken without intent. My work is meticulous, organized, and obsessive, often requiring hours of tedious concentration for one element to come to fruition. My first steps on this path began in my formative years as a teenager, when I developed a serious of neurotic behaviors.

Since that time my work has been the outlet by which I enforce my determination to never again become unfettered, lose my confidence, or slip into the neuroses of my past. My work is the method by which I subjugate my neurotic tendencies, and my unhealthy need for control. It is the struggle for composure over chaos, and the minute, almost indiscernible divide of which I must remain constantly aware to maintain my balance.