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<span class="text"><font color="#cccccc" class="text"> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"><u><em><strong>SHLOG</strong></em></u></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I am conflicted about blogs, so I will call mine a Shlog. Art-business strategies suggest as part of your marketing you should have a blog. It's a chance to give folks an insight into the day in the life of and answer "Where do you get your ideas?" This part is as complicated as it is simple. Mostly I make what I want to see. I can thank the natural world for keeping me ever-looking and absorbing visuals. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I have a difficult time seeing what a public diary has to do with the art. I will admit it is somewhat fascinating to read the personal journals unearthed after someone has passed. The words written for an artist's own inner dialogue or as part of their creative process is genuine, as opposed to some contrived story written for public viewing, like a blog. I know, it's marketing. I read some of Kurt Cobain's journal turned coffee-table book when it was published. Not because I wanted his music explained, but because he ended his own life. I wanted to see if it said why. Maybe it all boils down to curiosity. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">So here in my Shlog. I am going to give it a go and see what I can come up with...</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">8/16/10</span><br /> </span></strong></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I just spent about an hour fixing the fonts on this website. Then I realized that the timeline is backwards below...but I am not going to fix it. Today is a day when I have laughed at myself in what kind of feels like pity. Poor me. What a dork I am. The more intense the messages get to participate in SOCIAL NETWORKING the less I want to. What is that? Why can't I just play the game? Today I also discovered with the help of a wildlife rehabilitationist that the nest of babies that I thought were baby squirrels fallen out of a tree, still oddly nestled in their organized nest were actually bunnies! Surprise! Not really. Had I thought about the logic of the actual visual I might not had taken them out of their nest as the rehab person told me to do---assuming they were squirrels. So I put them back as instructed and pray the mom finds them and all is ok. Another dorky thing I did was spend a long time getting first aid kits together for my trip to a great house in Maine. I've got so much to do! and yet I just am acting as if we are going into the wilderness. After zipping up the dog first aid kit, I shook my head and laughed.</span><br /> </span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I am laughing at myself for typing in this space where no one ever goes and very few have read. If I am going to do it here, why not in a real blog right? Why write in a space that is invisible mostly? Ha haa ahhha. Maybe I will make the leap. </span>But is talking about bunnies or being a dork good marketing? I could go into how facsinating it was to look at them closely. The tiny ears, the thin skin and squirmy tiny bodies in my gloved hand...I could go on and on because WHY? removing bunnies from their nests is such a HUGE metaphor. again!</span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Let's try this for a _____________-whatever it's called, self promotion push thing.</span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;">I've been working very hard for months and I have more ideas than time permits or my ADD brain lets me accomplish. I'm so fortunate to be able to work. and here goes the big honk----My work is better than ever. Seriously. </span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">2/16/10</span></span></strong></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">It's been a long time since I've felt like writing. I am slowly crawling through a wall of being pretty sad about the passing of a family member and my studio partner, Nancys Reinke, at the Torpedo Factory. They passed within 9 days of each other. Both involved immense suffering of which I couldn't fix, change or alleviate. I suppose that's where one of those intricate life lessons I hear about but I have yet to easily sort or digest. <br /> </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I have inherited a studio of my own. I painted it Wasabi Powder. I now have space to fully display work, to create all kinds of things and to re-emerge. Take all those artist fantasies and make them real. It's in my hands. I hesitate to feel excited still. I feel at the bottem of a giant mountain. Not Everest however. But it is time for me to stop drinking hot tea and looking at maps and leave base camp. Collect my courage and go.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I've had so much support in everyway from strangers passing through the studio while Nancy was sick and after she died. Like little stars sprinkled over a wreaking heap of black. I've relied on family and friends and they've pulled me through my 'deer in the headlights' position which I was in for months. How I can repay them? I still am working on that one but the first way, is to succeed. I've have clients, who actually I consider more like friends, be so kind and letting me know it's ok to have a dream come true and they are excited for me. I've been weighing this huge loss for Nancy's family, friends, fans and my own loss, against my gain. It's wierd. I know it's life so no need to be reminded of that factoid. Just trying to find a bridge to freely cross between those disparate islands.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"><strong>10/10/2009</strong></span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Andy Goldsworthy's work is beautiful and profound. Lately I keep thinking of one piece that is created from fall leaves in water. It's from his film Rivers and Tides. From intent, to the careful construction, to the great performance of the color floating down a narrow stream is intense and temporary. Looking at nature and images like Goldsworthy's is where I find meaning and I know so many lessons await. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Bear with me while I sound like I just completed 3 weeks of Life Spring. (no I din't)</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I just learned what "go with the flow" means. It doesn't mean complying, following, conforming or submitting. It means being, accepting, seeing it as it comes, passing it by and continue the course forward. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">A leaf traveling downstream bumps a huge log, it simply finds it's way around. Most of them anyway. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Oh god not more metaphors. Crap.<br /> </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I was forced to open my eyes because the universe gave me another show rejection...put on a waitlist. The feeling this time, instead of questioning my existence, was liberation. My work is at it's best ever. It's growing and it's changing. That's all that matters. There are other ways to show work than be in a 10x10 cube. I gracefully (never would I call myself graceful) and with a great sense of freedom have floated right on around the rejection. I now can change course and move forward. Go with the flow. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Exciting things lie ahead, not behind.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><em>Older posts below:</em></span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">9/2008</span></strong></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I saw Ingrid Michaelson tonite. I love seeing live music. Musicians typically give me a huge burst of courage. The confidence in their musicianship, or not...their lyrics, or none...and music is easily something I can loose myself in and often do. I recently saw Eddie Vedder and I certainly will never forget that night. What does it have to do with my art? I suppose it helps me keep going. This show was mostly forgettable--- but we did see one of the opening acts and he, Newton Faulkner, was excellent. He was funny, vibrant and is a creative guitar player, song writer. An English dude with orange dreads and a refreshing style. He did an amazing version of Bohemian Rhapsody.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Happy Thanksgiving</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">12/7/08</span></span></strong></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Today is powerfully blustery. The Bay is topped with white caps and the shimmery aquatic blues and grays keep changing the scene as the clouds move northward at a rapid, steady pace. Some days I am showered with metaphors. Today the constant clip of this cold wind simply is the way this year has felt...</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I must go find a way to get my feet warm.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"><strong>12/29/08</strong></span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Somedays are certainly more profound than others. (see entry above) Lately, I've been gazing at and studying the vegetable and flower seed catalogs that are slowly arriving in the mail. Before I go to sIeep, I make believe I have a huge garden, with wide walkways in between the rows. The paths are made of lavendar and mint and as I walk along the aromatic dreaminess elevates me to a place I am unsure of, but like...and one or two benches along these paths. The benches might be made of concrete and/or wood. My garden is also mosquitoless. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"><strong>1/26/09</strong></span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I have my alarm clock/radio set on WBJC Baltimore a classical music station. It wakes me up gently. I rarely listen to classical otherwise. It's surprisingly has been a calm, introspective way to greet the day and extinguish what is an otherwise cranky morning person...until now. Winter. 6am the kind music plays, I wake, I listen, but instead of gathering my thoughts to begin the day, I gather my blankets closer to my chin, get comfortable and let the music lull me back to sleep. This has happened multiple times now, making me run late. I am going to have to reset this radio/alarm to something that sounds like a jack hammer, feels like ice water poured over my face, turns my perfect pillow into a dense thorny bramble and blanket into coarse steel wool. It's the return of the cranky morning person. Look out.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"> 4/15/09</span></strong></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">Facebook is wrought with as much discomfort as it is with discovery. I have jumped about 28 years into my past and found people that would never be part of my present if it weren't for this tool for networking. What were memories have turned into investments and I like that part of it.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I am always trying to let go of the past, move on, yet I "log in", reach into the new past and then...it's ever-present again. Not everyone is listed neatly on my page under a liftime of friends. Some people are missing. Facebook rings the bell of wonder and makes me feel like I can fix or find or fathom. </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">I cannot reach back into my past selectively without gathering all of it. That's where it gets uneasy. Perhaps this 41 year old who's re-living, re-connecting and re-absorbing should also be resolving, relaxing and unplugging.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">5/21/09</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">A friend just told us of the sudden passing of their dog Printz. He was a sprightly and sweet little buddy. I feel so sad for them. Many of us have holes in our hearts from loosing these particular friends. With each one we loose, we realize how these relationships are so distinct and individual. Of course, this is a subject I can go on and on about and I can safely say 97% of the people I know who love their animals, would prefer not to linger on the subject. I get that.</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">But where else to post a personal epiphany than on my fake blog? As I was emailing my thoughts to my friend it occured to me why I have these super special relationships with animals. Here's what I wrote:</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">"It's such a bitter reality but we owe them that (euthansia) because we love them and they give us so much...and we can't impose our <em>ideas of longevity and future on them</em>. That's how we humans operate but not the beasts...they could care less." </span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;">One thing I have learned about myself is, I do not have much of a concept of future or longevity. I am naturally in a time warp. I am naturally in the now and I spend a lot time trying to be in the future, because that's how humans should operate and it is like swimming upstream all time. Give me a biscuit and I am pretty happy. So that's my connection I think. Yes, I relate to the utter simplicity of my dogs and I admire their absence of guile. Don't tell anyone though...</span></span></span></p> <p> <span style="font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /> </span></span></p> </font></span><br>
