there's always some part of a portrait that talks back like a little shit kid in the middle of a shit-show circus. there's always some element that, if it were only on point, would read the whole face perfectly. you spend three paint sessions getting the layout, the proportion, the angles, the colors and tones and everything just right and then there's the fourth session. the make or break moment.
that's when you find the argument.
you spend hour on each separate element of the face.
the left eye. the size. the shadows. the highlights. the crease above. arch of the brow.
same with the right and their relation to each other.
the nose. the bridge. the contours. the nostrils.
the mouth. the bow. the shadows. the creases.
all these elements should add up to a harmonized face.
so rarely they do.
one fucking thing.... two fucking things.... three fucking things...(ahhh ahhh ahhhh) are always off.
in the case of jill, i have no idea. it's her, but it's not her.
IT'S HER BUT IT'S NOT HER!! the shape of the mouth, the title of the head, the chin, the strength in the nose....all argue to me. there's also a disagreement in the tilt of her shoulder where her hand doesn't read in proportion because the crook in her elbow is hidden by the wand.
i feel like i took a chance leaving the natural color tones behind and using the more veridian/green/cream tones. i took a chance making her portrait so large that it consumed most of the canvas.
i've got less than three weeks to finish and frame this shit.
time to stock up on coffee, cigarettes, white wine, and new music.
eye twitch, engage.
it's a funny thing, being an artist. you don't know what percent of your crazy is just that of humanity and what percent is having a psychotically creative art mind.
after a lot of deliberating and listening, i've moved most of my fine work painting tools back to my home studio. the detail brushes, the nice paints, the 70% finished tarot paintings, the stereo... the focus. i couldn't quite handle trying to do 100% of my work at the generator.
so much distraction.
(and by distraction i mostly mean rad people doing rad things that sort of sparkle out the corner of your eye and your brain just explodes with the words "OOOH, SHINY!")
there was also that other....crappy kind of distraction...
the one outlined by an underlining feeling that i was trying to force a round peg into a square hole trying to work out of that warehouse. that in some way i was kidding myself (testing myself?) and the destined outcome of me huddling back home to paint was inevitable. that i just didn't mesh with some folk, respectively. that i didn't really fit in. that my real talk was too real. that i was off kilter. under appreciated. taken for granted. wasting my time.
in all fairness, i feel like i should remind people that i moved to the generator to work on MY tarot project--NOT embrace. you'd kinda think that would be no big deal, right? but no... it's... kind of a big deal down there at the gen. it's almost that by using the free space as a free artist as was first explained to me... i'm made to feel like some sort of fuck off and because i don't really give a whole lot of fuck about embrace (as it's being shoved down mine and reno's throat), it's like i should have some scarlet letter. the generator is drowning in that project and artists of other projects are made to feel inferior or are simply leaving because a) they're unappreciated b) they're told the space is limited or c) they can't get shit done.
unless... that was just the idea all along and i'm just the simple sucker?
maybe that's the whole ruse of the place? to build an elaborate umbrella facility to only truly house one important project for one artist and one burn? to build this project under the guise of nonprofit community work but not really put any effort into the nonprofit...community work? it's kind of like working in animal farm and all art projects are not created equal. embrace can charge you for a shitty plastic cup of beer... but the starving artist can't put prices next to his or her work in the gallery? embrace can install a cash register in the library, but i can't sell a sketch? they can throw all the parties and art shows they want with tons of booze, but you better drive home drunk cuz sleeping there is out of the question....unless you're sleeping with important people? all cigarette butts are my fault? i'm a picky bitch because i expect the place to be mutually respected by all? cleaning duties are expected to be completed, but only if you're working on certain projects, certain days?
this all makes me feel like some sort of shitty and gullible art pawn. it's the yucky parts of the salvagery all over again--the ego struggle, the unrefinement, the personalities, and the violent learning curves.
perhaps i moved to the generator thinking it was one thing... and now, having half left, i'm thinking it's something else.
honestly, this difference between what i thought then and what i know now, an un-ignorable hypocrisy, is just something i'm not totally comfortable working under the roof of and i wanted to no longer compromise. integrity is hell of a thing to make excuses for.
all these things add up in my brain and... i can't function, let alone create in a space where there's so much weird uncertainty and agenda pushing... and politics and bureaucracy.
don't get me wrong. the place is not without it's outstanding fucking merits--generous and loving staff, dedicated volunteership, teamwork, open arms, and arts promotion. i've met amazing people there and done some neato things. there's a lot of good to be had from the people who make the generator.
it's just that... i would do it different.
and some day, i will.
and that's why i'm stepping back on a personal level.
don't really feel like standing on the same podium alone or with anyone else... as all that until shit gets sorted out proper.
that's why i've decided to maintain my cubby there as a kids class cubby. i'll cut and prime my project, do my two days a week generator duty, but will mostly dedicate the space to wednesdays with the kiddos.
if you have potty trained little ones with an attention span, sharing skills, patience and a pension for arts, bring them on by.
i can do 3pm ish til 6:30pm. maybe later if negotiated.
space is limited to 6 kids--depending on size and age.
oh, and bring me a beer.
and maybe kick down some of those art supplies you kid has strewn all over your house so we can all share and learn.
oh, and it's free and also very dependent on interest so... holla.
or leave a comment here...
or... you know, text me.
thanks for the vent.
i feel better, internet void.
oh, and i know... i'm an asshole too.
remember when you took photographs with a camera? the ones with film? and you took em to 1hr photo to print doubles? it wasn't all that long ago, people.
or maybe it was?
so there's this. (see below)
this is my real portfolio.
today i get to teach middle schoolers art class and i decided that i'd sort out my portfolio, bring it to class, and share who i am as an artist (hopefully also gain some street cred).
i've been sorting out my glamour 5x7" shots all morning:
where 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)