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I have a lot of pots... and kettles... and sauce pans... and pizza trays... on many burners... some on stoves that don't even seem to be mine? It's like being shivering cold, having withstood the colossal freeze of night, at twilight dawn... aching for the sun to come up over the horizon. I can see the alpenglow of all the things i've got brewing and I am running to keep up with the light on each peak of opportunity. or something like that. or maybe i just put my paint brush in my tea and the only pot i need is the one that holds coffee now.
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so many opinions, so little time. unless you live under a rock in reno, you probably noticed that burning man happened. this was my second year in non-attendance. had i gone, it would've been my tenth year out in the desert. that's a lot of summers, hell, that's a lot of years to give to anything... let alone burning man. let me just say, i don't feel like i missed a thing. not one. if anything, i've been listening to my gut all summer (and longer) about my general disgust for what the institution of burning man has become. a party for the privileged, a drug-saturated mecca for the elite, a complete waste of money on the individual and industry level, and a shame of a shadow of what the event used to be. a throw-away pit of time and creative effort for artisans and crafters... a hollow goal. i used my time not at burning man wisely and in return was given the opportunity to teach middle school art class which i'm absolutely in love with. the methodolody, the kids, the school--it's all fallen into beautiful place and i couldn't be happier with my decision to stay away from all things burning man related in order to enhance my life in permanent reality. i listen to the kids describe what burning man is to each other and....from the mouths of babes: "it's a drug party in the desert" "it's where adults run around naked all week" "it's where they do drugs and play with fire" "they build this huge stuff and set it on fire and dance around it" etc etc etc makes me wonder what we're showing the next generation of kids. what they see... what they hear... what they're learning... and how they learned it.... i feel bad for burners these days and i can't shake the feeling. like... they're headed out to no where to rekindle whatever spark that made them feel whole the first time they found it. i feel at odds with burner artists as well. how much of what you're creating (especially to burn) is genuine art... and how much is a glorified soap box of spotlight and ego? there's been a lot in my newsfeed about making sustainable art--not wasting $266,000 on art to be burned and making large scale funded art projects more permanent... or something. sounds like back pedaling and excuses to me--especially after the fact. whatever helps you sleep at night, i guess. my point in feeling bad for burners is that i genuinely hope they reinvest their inner-light into something that fucking matters. their community. their kids. their local or global needs. anything other than this money-guided rape of resources, materials, artists, and land. i hope each burner finds the ability to be his or herself... anywhere he or she is--not just on the playa. listen, if you went out there and... had the best acid trip ever and briefly "found yourself" on whatever night of the event or worked on a project that people patted you on the back for... or... handed out food and booze to strangers to feel as if you were giving back....i'm happy for you. i'm glad unique you went out of town to do that with thousands of other unique people. i'm just glad i stayed home. in other news, got my dream job. teaching. gonna do everything in my power to keep this in my life and pursue it with the fervor it deserves. i was fortunate enough to help out at the end of last year at this school and knew i loved the job then. i was also fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to offer my services and talent on a more permanent level and i could not be more stoked. with this new dream job comes new exhaustion. i'm working an average of 47 hours a week for the next who knows which has really put painting on the back burner. it's a weird feeling. i'm trying to acclimate. trying to motivate, and trying to get into a rhythm where i can paint and be creative again and it's taking a fuckton of self discipline. ...a metric fuckton... i postponed my tarot project sneak peak show at singer social club for september/october and i couldn't be more relieved. i found myself in stressful tears at the thought of having to bust out so much work in so little time on a project and series that's consumed so much of my life for the past two years. i've come to terms with the fact that the tarot will teach me patience through it's creative journey whether i like it or not. in other, other news.... i'm totally in love. i met two boys that i'm wild about. well, one and his son. shhhhh, he doesn't like it when i share this sorta thing on the internets or on the faceboks--that's assuming he actually reads this. ha. hi, honey. troll me good. it's been an absolute backwards joyride aligning myself into their lives but... it feels good. like...real good. like love good. like twitterpated good. with the world up in the air and work sucking the life out of me, it's nice to have a good man around to fan the flames inside me when they start to flicker. it's an interesting thing, being an artist with such consumptive creative tendencies.... and trying to balance the love of another person. happiness and sadness are almost symbiotic to me and all i want to do is pour everything i have into everything i've got. i can't imagine that i'm easy to love. i expect a lot out of who i allow to hold my hand. i am imperfect, but i'm mostly good. i'd do it all over again if i could. feeling pretty lucky. i'll make a new video of my new studio in my new house with my new loves as soon as i get back into painting. let's cross our fingers together that it's sooner before later. 
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Mallory Mishlerwhere i'll post the in's, out's, tween's, and twixt's of my world of art mixed with pictures, links, opinions, and rants. (oh, and curse words. lots of curse words) Archives
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