Statement draft

I’ve been trying to work on my statement. It’s rough work. Think I need more seduction, less abrasion, that’s how I feel about most things in life, so I really should incorporate it. Any suggestions would be appreciated. Thank you.

 

Edit 10/22/2014:

It is the artist’s instinct to observe, appreciate, absorb, retell and reveal.

Observe: we are easily fascinated, often even by things that appear mundane or common, and will study or stare harder than most.

Appreciate: we tend have a greater sense than most that anything we are concentrating on can have importance and value, contain information that is of interest.

Absorb: For me at least, I tend to absorb through staring and allowing myself to empathize to the point of unacceptability, but also by further researching the object or idea of interest via the writings, research, or visuals of others.

Retell: if we get a chance and have the energy we are usually compelled to reinterpret what we are paying attention to through whatever media we either prefer to work in or feel would best express our experience. Note: we almost never get to retell everything we’d like to, and this frustrates us to no end. It is often the center of our complaints or cantankerous behavior (most common “no one understands or appreciates or supports me! No one appreciates my art!” cry cry cry… it’s because we are frustrated, there is so much and we are overwhelmed by it and miserable we can’t get it all out).

Reveal: I have often heard people express something along the lines of “what a beautiful picture of an old man” but seldom hear anyone say “what a beautiful old man”. There is the difference, the artist sees a beautiful old man and thinks their piece falls short of the subject, the person looking at the art thinks the art has beauty but wouldn’t appreciate the subject in the same way if they saw that same old man walking down the street, probably wouldn’t even look at them either out of disinterest or politeness. The viewer can appreciate through the filter and the remove, the artist craves the messy real contact, the uncomfortable too long gaze to complete the study or the romance.

So, why do I make art? I am busy and tired, I am the primary breadwinner for my family, I have a full time job as accounts payable, my children are better than any piece I could ever create (understatement in the extream) so I might think I could just quit now, nothing could top those kids so biologically, I have arrived in the larger scheme of things. It is that it is a compulsion, a drive to make these objects for the sake of making my ideas and feelings clear. It is my nature. That may sound uninspired. It’s not that thinking and longing to create and share are anything less than my true self, it’s just that I didn’t sit down and decide that this was the highest and best calling. I don’t for a minute think it’s better than science or philanthropy or medicine or shipbuilding. This is the way I am hard wired and I see that as beautiful enough. I do not feel the need to act as if it were my religion or cult or creed (I’m an atheist). I do not believe that art and artists are better than other things or people. I do not proselytize. I have astigmatism (that I will not wear corrective lenses for) that translates the world a little flatter than most see it, so I can put the three dimensional world to a two dimensional format like paper more easily than most. My eyes are just built that way. My brain is hard-wired to be fascinated, even by numbers on a spreadsheet. Perhaps that is because I lean towards Type 3, Over-focused ADHD – who knows why. In any case, my mind is built that way. I’m an artist because that is what my brain does: observe, appreciate, absorb, and when I can scrape up the time and energy, retell and reveal.

… and speaking of children, these pieces I have been working on most currently are concerned with the mess and the loss and the transformation of the self when turned from a stupid and happy young woman trying to make art and have a great time, into a parent of the female gender, a mother. Everyone loves their mother, but no one wants to think too hard about them, it’s uncomfortable. They are just mom. But they weren’t always, and they are still more. They are still individuals whether or not their children or their society wants to think about that too hard. Even if no one wants to acknowledge or support that. Even if kids are embarrassed when their mom sings. One day you wake up and it’s 8 years later and your head is spinning – you realize that you lost you. I have no time or energy, but I will support my own impulses, I will make that time, even if precious few others will pitch in. I would of course appreciate any and all assistance greatly. Thank you for your time and consideration.

 


Statement/proposal rough draft

It is the artist’s instinct to observe, appreciate, absorb, retell and reveal.

Observe: we are easily fascinated, often even by things that appear mundane or common, and will study or stare harder than most.

Appreciate: we tend have a greater sense than most that anything we are concentrating on can have importance and value, contain information that is of interest.

Absorb: For me at least, I tend to absorb through staring and allowing myself to empathize to the point of unacceptability, but also by further researching the object or idea of interest via the writings, research, or visuals of others.

Retell: if we get a chance and have the energy we are usually compelled to reinterpret what we are paying attention to through whatever media we either prefer to work in or feel would best express our experience. Note: we almost never get to retell everything we’d like to, and this frustrates us to no end. It is often the center of our complaints or cantankerous behavior (most common “no one understands or appreciates or supports me! No one appreciates my art!” cry cry cry… it’s because we are frustrated, there is so much and we are overwhelmed by it and miserable we can’t get it all out).

Reveal: I have often heard people express something along the lines of “what a beautiful picture of an old man” but seldom hear anyone say “what a beautiful old man”. There is the difference, the artist sees a beautiful old man and thinks their piece falls short of the subject, the person looking at the art thinks the art has beauty but wouldn’t appreciate the subject in the same way if they saw that same old man walking down the street, probably wouldn’t even look at them either out of disinterest or politeness. The viewer can appreciate through the filter and the remove, the artist craves the messy real contact, the uncomfortable too long gaze to complete the study or the romance.

So, why do I make art? I am busy and tired, I am the primary breadwinner for my family, I have a full time job as accounts payable, my children are better than any piece I could ever create (understatement for eternity) so I might think I could just quit now, nothing could top those kids so I have arrived in the larger scheme of things. It is a compulsion. It is my nature. I’m sorry if that sounds trite and uncerebral, or uninspired. It’s not that thinking and longing to create and share are anything less than my essence, it’s just that I didn’t sit down and decide this was the highest and best calling. I don’t for a minute think it’s better than science or philanthropy or medicine or shipbuilding. This is the way I am hard wired and I see that as beautiful enough. I do not feel the need to act as if it were my religion or cult or creed. And I do not proselytize. I have astigmatism – that I will not wear corrective lenses for – that translates the world a little flatter than most see it, so I can put the 3 dimensional world to 2 dimensional paper more easily than most. My eyes are built that way. My brain is hard-wired to be fascinated, even by numbers on a spreadsheet – my mind is built that way. I’m an artist because that is what my brain does, observe, appreciate, absorb, and when I can scrape up the time and energy, retell and reveal.

… and speaking of children, these pieces I have been working on most currently are concerned with the mess and the loss and the transformation of the self when turned from a stupid and happy young woman trying to make art and have a great time, into a parent of the female gender, a mother. Everyone loves their mother, but no one wants to think too hard about them, it’s uncomfortable. They are just mom. But they weren’t always, and they are still more. They are still individuals whether or not their children or their society wants to think about that too hard. Even if no one wants to acknowledge or support that. Even if kids are embarrassed when their mom sings. One day you wake up and it’s 8 years later and your head is spinning – you lost you. I have no time or energy, but I will support my own impulses, I will make that time, even if few others will pitch in. I wouldn’t mind assistance, I’d appreciate it greatly. Thank you for your time and consideration.

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