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Little Edie Flag Dance, Grey Gardens, Maysles Brothers' Film 1976 |
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The Triumph of Death, oil on panel c. 1562 117 cm × 162 cm (46 in × 63.8 in) Pieter Bruegel the Elder Museo del Prado, Madrid |
No matter where I am or what happens, this gift remains.
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Little Edie Flag Dance, Grey Gardens, Maysles Brothers' Film 1976 |
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The Triumph of Death, oil on panel c. 1562 117 cm × 162 cm (46 in × 63.8 in) Pieter Bruegel the Elder Museo del Prado, Madrid |
Above the old studio sink |
Thank you for spending some time with me in a world that is always pulling at your attention and lifeforce. Last week's post seemed to be a popular one, and I am glad it resonated.
This hasn't been a great week, but there have still been moments of beauty and laughter, as well as tears. I took time for it all.
I have decided that I must approach things differently. It's once again time to reframe, change, embrace, and accept. Of course, it is always this time unless one is fighting against the very nature of life. I am actually pretty good at doing this - I can be pretty stubborn. I am a fixer and an optimist, a hard worker and much of the time, a black and white thinker. These qualities can serve me well to a point and these traits can also make things harder than necessary. I embrace my hardwired tendencies and breathe into what I can soften and release.
This week, I walked more and listened to nature's lessons.
As I think many of you have gathered, my art "career" is not the same as it once was, my feelings and motivations towards it have changed a lot since the pandemic as well as from all I have learned through my involvement with the Scottish Artists Union. I no longer work the same way as I did. Some of this is okay with me and some of it, is not.
The arts (in all of its forms) was such a huge part of who I was as a child, how I was raised, what I valued and how I perceived my value. I credit art with "rewiring" my brain, giving me a purpose, and helping me make sense of the world and my place in it. Art built my confidence and gave me a shorthand language to help me find others that I could understand and who would understand me. Art supported me emotionally, spiritually, sometimes financially, and gave me a sense of community.
Most of my friends are artists or in creative fields of practice and many of them have also changed the way they work. We talk about it differently now, in a wistful way. Longing for something that was lost. Back before algorithms, likes, and shares - or back to when likes and shares still equaled opportunities and income. Back before we realised how much all the open calls were costing us, before we realised the labour involved in pursuing speculative opportunities that seemed to generate income for everyone but the artists. Back when we had that hungry energy when we were younger.
How do we peel it all back and begin again? What systems need creating to make it work? What is the goal now? How do you keep expressing and creating when you are the only audience for your work and your storage space and finances are limited? How do you remain committed to the creative practice when the world seems committed to misunderstanding it and you?
How do you ignore the pressures of society to protect the tiny flame within?
I think you tell the truth. I think you keep showing up, even if showing up looks different now. I think you keep walking in nature, and realising the value of all things that feed the creative work. I think you get quiet and maybe a little angry.
And you create to please yourself, to calm, soothe, explore, excavate and exorcise. I think you meditate and cry and limit the bullshit from taking root.
Why would the path look the same as it did five, ten, or twenty five years ago? It wouldn't. We've changed, the world has changed, the internet has changed, galleries have changed, motivations have changed and this is simply the nature of things.
Art is the constant, even in fits and starts. From youth to now, I think about it, write about it, talk about it, work around it, create it, cry and worry over it, and feel its exaltation.
I let go of what was, accept what is, and do not fear the future, but I still shake.
Co-Star Mic Drop |
Time folds in on itself - how did we all get so old.
I slept until my alarm chimed bird sounds at 7am. This is a rare occurrence.
My dreams were wild but not memorable, only the feeling and flashes of colour left behind. This is my weekend now, time to recover and regroup but I already feel the weight of obligation and the plans I made for myself.
I am tired and on shaky ground, yet I will it solid. As I type these dour words I think, what a bummer of an intro, surely this can't stand. I will delete and share the beauty and lightness that I also found this week. Because I can always find it.
If resilience is a curse, I have been hexed.
Remember too, this place is a creative exercise. Perhaps the only creativity I will experience in the week. I like putting words together.
The words are partly crafted from the music playing in my big headphones, Marconi Union, Brian Eno, Hammock, Nils Frahm - icy and atmospheric on a warm June morning. Music for introspection - like I need any encouragement.
I want to write, I think you are beautiful. But who am I thinking of, I do not know.
I think you are beautiful.
I walked. I watched a show everyone is talking about. I listened to an audiobook. I have sat in the garden in the sun, knee deep in buttercups and daisies, punctuated by poppies and foxgloves. I am going to see live music on Sunday and Monday. I have talked to friends - human and the furry kind and I have harvested fresh spinach.
I have made good food and healthy drinks, enjoyed naps, yoga and breathing exercises. See what I am doing? I can't help it.
If resilience is a curse, I have been hexed.
Susumu Yokota comes on my headphones - glorious. I was trying to be reminded of this album. There are no accidents.
and I still think you are beautiful.
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wednesday's alright if you like iced matcha |
mother as a girl
In other news, I took a walk that was particularly beautiful, a feast for the senses. I think the experience was heightened because I really needed it to combat the stress I was feeling. To just give up and move through the air and take it all in was so comforting.
In a world gone mad, I trust the birds, the trees, and the dappled light. I trust the water and the wind. The birds were singing loudly, sending messages out through the trees overhead. The flowers nodded in agreement and the air felt like velvet.
poppy says hello |
"A 9 month programme of artist workshops, talks and participatory sessions exploring professional practice with a selected co-hort. Covering everything from art activism, creative criticism, collective working, curation, getting projects off the ground, hands on skills and freelancer basics."
I was happy to be asked by SAU learning team colleagues, Ben and Emily, to join them for part of this workshop and to speak about common issues that freelancers face and how to protect themselves by using contracts, rates of pay, and providing them with some additional resources.
We met at the basement gallery, and as it was a beautiful day, we walked over to nearby Gayfield square to sit in the grass. I gave an hour-long talk followed by a thoughtful discussion. I really love this type of hands on, public speaking work - engaging with artists to encourage and inform, is my love language.
It was also great to spend an extended period of time in the flesh with my amazing co-workers as we rarely have the opportunity.
I went to sleep feeling fulfilled and I woke up happy.
As seen on the wall at Embassy gallery
In other, other news, if you are in America tomorrow and are able, please take to the streets for the No Kings protests. Watching the news of the past week has been horrific and my heart and spirit are with you. Keep fighting!
£2 well spent looks like this |
I could feel the edge of frustration creeping up as my newest routines had been slightly derailed by the headaches. It was a busy week at work, but I did manage some creative time - just a few moments of weirdness but it's good for the soul.
It was one of those frustrating moments, where the day had been fine but dull and that edge was creeping up. All of the sudden I was in the bathroom putting on red lipstick like Robert Smith - you know, not inline with my lips - too much product and a bit deranged like an old hollywood meltdown. It's nice to do things "wrong" especially if you are always trying to get it right. I then filled in my eyebrows - the way they were before I mistakenly plucked them in my 30s for the first time. I haven't done a thing to them since 2018 but they don't grow back the same after you've fucked with them, so they are spare in parts. I back combed my short hair like I did in hair school and put on a headband. It's really good to do something slightly out of character and just for the hell of it. I thought about all the times I don't do this. I mean this was standard fare in junior high and high school for me, but then that became a costume like any other, so eventually I stopped with it all.
"Just getting through life" can make for a pretty boring but necessary costume. So it was nice to have a bit of a play. Play is a forgotten art for adults - think about the way we dress, the face we put on - often so ordinary. I wear "this" but not "that." I couldn't possibly make a change now because this is "me" and that is not.
Anyway, I guess I was having a very mild Cindy Sherman moment so I decided to take some snaps (the adult voice says how vain, how 2009, and what is the point of all of this). The child says, because I am here, I exist, and it's fun. So I did, and the child was happy.
With action comes power (or at least a change in perspective or a break from inertia).
Daily Life Costume |
A bit extra for dull days |
Photographic expansion |
Double exposure |
Living my best life in multiple exposures |
In street finding news, a fully functional bicycle in great condition was put in my path this week.Thank you to the generous soul who clearly marked it, "free and it works!" before abandoning it in the alley. I went for a ride after I got off work yesterday and again, the child was happy.
It's okay to play when the world is on fire.
Until next week, you know what to do...
PS. Thanks to everyone who makes this blog what it is. I am so glad to be back.
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On the site of the National Mining Museum Scotland |
Hello Dear Readers!
It's time once again for the Friday Studio Blog! In real time no less, and on schedule!
Thank you to everyone who has spent some time catching up on my 15 backdated entries. In case you missed them, those entries started here and ended here. It was a real labour of love to catch up on my blog and I appreciate those who invested some of their time reading up on the good, sad, and art related posts. Thank you.
This week finds me recovering from back to back migraines that pretty much ran the show from Tuesday - Thursday but finally by Friday I was very tentatively able to get out for a wee art adventure!
But before we get to today, I want to mention the exhibition launch that I attended last night online for In Tension by members of Neuk Collective at Fife Contemporary.
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Julia |
In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.
I kept spray fixing through the weekend and ran out of the 3 cans of fixative I bought on Friday from Cass Art and made another trip to purchase 3 more cans on Tuesday morning bright and early. I also treated myself to another matcha with a view, because why shouldn't a Tuesday feel as good as a Friday?
After all, I was getting over a major hurdle, working my arse off to get caught up, and that surely warranted a wee celebratory moment. I also went to a shop nearby to get some storage boxes for the fixed pieces to protect them from dust and hide them from my sight.
As luck would have it, last week I found a rusted metal cart that someone had left out in the street. If you don't already know this about me, I have really good "street finds" luck. I just knew with a clean up, reassembly, and some spray paint this found cart would be perfect for my needs. And it was.
In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.
I have been completely overwhelmed with all the tasks involved in managing the amount of art I have created. Sometimes when the levee breaks, with it comes a realisation and the beginnings of a tentative plan.
I had convinced myself that the paper I had created hundreds of drawings on was too delicate to be spray fixed, making storing or maintaining these works feel impossible. But, it turns out the paper wasn't too delicate at all and so began the process of spraying them. I had some spray fix on hand and then ordered some more, a different brand but from a reputable company, but it was awful stuff, extremely noxious and didn't "fix" the dry media I had used at all. My new found momentum had been thwarted and I was upset that I was out £30. This is the kind of shit that at times makes me become inert. However, in this instance, I was able to contact the company, get a full refund and go to a local Cass Art and buy exactly what I needed and get a 10% discount with my SAU membership (just saying). I was so relieved!
As a reward, I treated myself to a perfect oat matcha while marveling at the view of gorgeous Edinburgh. The stars had aligned yet again. I was working as an artist. I was going to art supply stores, spray fixing art, and making progress. It felt good.
You can read next week's post here.
In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.
This week I went to another stellar film offering from Duncan Place and Community Cinema. This is a powerful and deceptively quiet film - but the message is deafening. If it comes near you, see it!
Sunshine on Leith |
In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.
I went to my favourite place in Edinburgh, Warriston Cemetery. This was a monumental day (no pun intended). Something shifted this week. I sat on a bench and looked over the cemetery and felt joy. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, everything was fresh, verdant, and overgrown. Perfectly disheveled and comforting, the sun was glorious and I felt reborn. Suddenly, I had ideas, goals, dreams, and most importantly some structure and support.
You can read next week's post here.
In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.
In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.
I enjoy the flowers and walking in Edinburgh in the springtime. I take photos of the shadows and light. At this point, the drawing stops. After Peikko's brilliant visit I realised something. I write my epiphany on a sticky note and post it where I can see it.
What does this structure and support look like? I am not yet sure, but I start putting parts of it into place.
I met up with my dear pal, Julia to return to the Fruitmarket for a second viewing. We sit and talk in front of the bold emotive paintings. She finds plenty within the paintings as well.
Copyright Portia Zvavahera |
Afterwards, we sit in a lovely cafe feeling like tourists. This may be my last grief eating cake session for a while...
We enjoy the view and seem to lay groundwork for some changes. We enjoy a photography exhibition "After the end of History" British Working Class Photography 1989 – 2024 at Stills afterwards. Julia and I are good at rambling around town exploring and just talking it all out. Julia writes a blog as well and is a wonderful artist, draftsperson, and friend. Find her blog here.
You can read next week's post here.