San Francisco smells like pot and the ocean.

Ocean Beach

 I'm just kidding. It mostly smells like pot.

"Special" Truffle Salesman in Dolores Park

I went there for the first time a couple of weeks ago to visit some friends who have been living out there the past few years.

Graffiti in The Mission

I arrived without much of a plan which was fine since my friends gave me a lot of guidance and let me tag along to places they were all ready going.

Of course, when I returned home, people were like, "Oh, you went to San Francisco!?! Did you do this and this and that...?" to which I replied, "Uhhhh, no."

Out of all I managed to do, I somehow missed a lot of tourist hot spots. Ohhhh, well, I'll just have to go back, I guess.

Tourist Shot

I did shuck oysters next to the body of water from where they formerly lived, and I'll never regret not going to Alcatraz instead.

My friend shucking oysters

While I will spare you the details, I'll share a few careful observations.

There they are!

Such as, people in San Francisco are very serious about their food and drink. It's wonderful and also really fun to make fun of.

"Oh, yes, I'll take the farm fresh egg for $18, please."

"I am SO glad their kale salad is young."

"That bartender looks so smart using that antique hand-operated coffee grinder."

Fisherman on coast north of San Francisco

Of course, everything was delicious- one shocking thing is particular: Their Toast.

Did you know toast is in? It is so in, y'all, and will surely be sweeping the nation to the east coast in a year or two. I can't wait.

Rooftop View

Another thing I observed is that all people in San Francisco are in their late twenties or early thirties. All of them.

Highway one between San Francisco and Santa Cruz

I'm exaggerating again, but while I did my usual people watching, walking the streets and museums and sitting in restaurants and coffee shops, it struck me that everyone was my age, which made me wonder: If all these people who are my age are running this city, does this mean I'm an adult? 

This thought was unsettling, but I'm shaking it off.

The Observatory Tower in De Young Museum

My friend who has lived there a couple of years has a theory that people move to San Francisco to stop time. When the seasons change, the climate does not, and this alongside the ability to constantly be in an altered state of mind keeps many from acknowledging the passage of time.

Muir Woods

Whether this is true or not, I got the impression that a lot of people move there for work but don't intend to stay there forever. But you could say that for a lot of larger cities.

Which is why, for me, it was a lovely place to vacation.

Looking out my friend's apartment window

San Francisco and the Bay Area are beautiful, and I hope to return there one day. I'd like to see some more touristy things, but mostly I want to go back and eat toast and oysters and sushi and strawberries and drink a hundred lattes.

Until then, I will just have to be content eating farm fresh eggs (also known as "eggs") for $1 and drinking $3 beers in my hometown. Oh, the humanity.

Back in December, I attended a white elephant party at a friend from high school's house.

My gift ended up being the image below, framed. No one tried to steal it from me later, and I can't see why not.

There's something inherently mysterious and delightful about the Bananacorn. Maybe I know deep down that I can identify with Bananacorn more than I could just a bowl of bananas or just a heap of corn. Bananacorn and I. We get each other.

So I decided recently to remove it from the back of my car (where it's been for the past seven months), dust it off, and hang it in my studio. (Thanks, Jorden)

Also, just for kicks, below is the gift I gave, which was in puzzle form. Yes, it was a re-gift (thanks, James and Abby), and it was a hit. It was traded several times whilst Bananacorn and I remained (out of force, but still) committed to one another.

I woke up early the other morning feeling anxious. The words I have to quit drinking beer ran through my head.

But I like beer my brain whined.

Sigh.

I've hit a wall in my weight loss endeavor.

"You should just enjoy where you are," a friend told me the other day. Another told me it's normal to plateau and to keep persevering.

I am persevering. I have to, and there is at least one reason why.

You know how I gave up clothing shopping this year? It wasn't because I am a virtuous, un-materialistic person. No. I did it a) because I don't make enough money to buy much more than food and gas and b) as incentive to lose weight.

I decided I wouldn't buy clothing or shoes until I hit a certain weight, and once I hit it, I would have to buy new clothing because my current clothes wouldn't fit well anymore.

I was supposed to hit the goal at the end of May. That due date was moved to the end of June. The end of June has come and gone and I'm still three pounds away from the goal.

But three pounds! It's so close!

But if I don't lose these three pounds soon, I'm going to go crazy because I want, need, some pants that fit me well asap. But I worry. Will I be stuck on this plateau wearing baggy pants forever?!

So whereas I usually stress in the wee hours of the morning about more dire things, I am beginning to stress about my beer consumption. I can't lose this weight and keep the same "dietary" habits. And I have to exercise more than I am. I'm up to about three times a week now, but it has to be more, at least for a little while.

Because while my first real goal is three pounds away, the next goal is fifteen pounds further. Sigh (again).

In the midst of all this, I struggle with whether this is something to be putting so much energy toward. I've always wrestled with feeling good about myself in general. Even worse, when I think about how I should probably take better care of myself, I feel guilty not investing that energy in other people's lives who need it more. It's the type of thing I think a lot of women stress about. We always feel like we should be giving and not receiving. But if we completely neglect ourselves, how much will we be able to give? So there lies the pursuit of a life well-balanced. What does that even look like? I sure as h don't know!

I do know one thing, however. All this thinking makes me want an ice cold beverage.

Animaniacs was pretty smart, and (because I am, too,) I loved it when I was a kid. They could say things that actually meant something, and it was entertaining.

I always think of this song whenever I hear the word pistachio. I also trace my adamant aversion to high fructose corn syrup and partially hydrogenated oils back to Yakko, Wakko, and Dot. Thanks, you guys.

I didn't write last week (breaking one of my two rules) because I was in Memphis for an opening Thursday evening. I apologize for my indiscretion.



I was pretty nervous about having my first show in Memphis. It helped that Otherlands is a laid back atmosphere, but I don't know, anything new makes me flustered; I morph into a deer in headlights.

But everything went well and lots of people came, even people I hadn't seen in over a decade! It was great. There was lots of wine and great food my sweet mother brought.

Sidenote: Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I usually have pretty awesome food at my openings; it's just not something worth missing if you're ever in the same city. Maybe word has spread because I think a couple of people just came for the food. Boy, were they happy.

Anyway, openings are exhausting and strange, but I've warmed up to them over time. They used to put me in a strange place, pushing me into hyper-reclusive mode for a few days after. I would also become really sensitive after shows.

Now, when the end comes, I say, "Let's go have a beer," and typically feel happy, relieved. Maybe I'm becoming less introverted, it's hard to tell.



This show in Memphis is a step in the right direction. I've been wanting to have a show in a city other than Knoxville for a long time, and it finally happened. It's been hard to make contacts or nail down dates in other cities. Nashville is giving me fits. People won't tell me yes or no, or some say yes, but nothing is set in stone.

I did just find out I've been accepted to show work at the Tomato Head in Market Square and Maryville sometime between July and January. I'm also so excited that 17th Street Studios (the studios I co-manage) is having our first group show on May 4th at the Fluorescent Gallery in Knoxville. Mark your calendars.

So I have some deadlines to get my blood flowing a little faster.



I'd like to share my artist statement from my show at Otherlands. I used a short statement from my show in November and built on it.

It's hard to write about my work in such detail. I've gotten used to being incredibly concise, but elaborating on what I'm doing is helping me learn why it is I'm making what I'm making, something that has been cloudy for a while.

Golden Friends

So here it is, imperfect in it's ability to convey everything I'd like, but close enough for now:

I think about my childhood a lot, especially when I'm driving around at night. I am intrigued by how strongly we are connected to memories from our past. I think about the similarities between being young and being an adult, how we are subject to struggles outside of our control no matter how old we are, and how there is never a time where we are free from pain or heartache.

These paintings are imagined narratives based on personal experience. Many are inspired by people I know or places I've seen, and most were made to cope with difficult situations I've encountered. I use setting, space, and figures to convey a somber and quiet emotional state. Some are empty and some show a degree of pain or discomfort.

There are elements that run in and out of each painting that are a result of being fascinated with certain things- women's fashion, modern design, historic architecture, children’s books. I am also inspired by certain music and films and really (really) like animals. I integrate these mild obsessions into my paintings to add humor, beauty, even innocence.

As a whole, most of these paintings are both lighthearted and heavy to reflect the pain and joy we experience simultaneously throughout a lifetime.

The New Year is upon us and yes, I've made some resolutions. I know some people think it's pointless, but I think it's a great thing to do. I can always use some motivation and goal-setting to move forward.

My resolutions have to do mostly with making better decisions for a healthier, sounder life. Many things in life are ultimately out of our control, but there are little habits I've formed over the years that are getting in the way of the things I really want.

Maybe I won't get those things in the end. I can't be sure of that now, but day-to-day, I'd like to see if it's possible to chip away some of the bad and add on some good.

So here are some of my resolutions in no particular order:

1. Be a fastidious planner.

I've been reading the Artist's Guide by Jackie Battenfield. It's really great if you'd like to or are thinking about devoting your life to making art. One thing she talks about early on is making goals and then making a plan to reach those goals.

One way she keeps on track is by printing out and hanging up a whole year's worth of calendars in her studio so she can see them all at one time. I plan to do this in the next week.

Amongst many art-related plans I need to make and keep track of, I am also excited about planning some vacations this year, something I failed miserably at doing last year. This girl needs an ocean in her life! Fast!

2) No clothes or shoes buying, at least until June, maybe until December.

There are several reasons why I'm doing this, but mostly it has to do with wanting to manage money better and to plan at saving and buying things that are more expensive. If I keep frivolously buying clothing (I have a mild addiction to dropping cash I don't really have every time I go to thrift stores or Target), I will never be able to buy certain things that are more out of my reach. This also ties into Resolution No. 1.

3) No fast food in 2012.

You're probably thinking Ew, fast food is so gross. That will be easy. But, no, it won't be.

Fast food is delicious, convenient, and cheap, and in 2011, I formed a nice habit of eating it at least once a week, maybe more. I sort of blame my friend of the male persuasion for this (guys can get away with eating crap way more than girls/I can). I also blame my addiction to salt, but I'm ending my love affair this year, not only for my health, but also to ponder over where my food comes from and how important that is to me.

With that said, I will miss you, Chic-fil-A 8-count nuggets and McDonald's french fries.

I've made more resolutions, but I'll leave sharing just these three.

May 2012 be a blessed one.

The other night, I was with some friends at an establishment that I frequent. I had had a drink or two when I ordered a small plate of food to share.

When it came out, I picked up a morsel only to find a hair stuck to the side of it. Without giving it much thought, I removed the foreign object, consumed the food, and moved on with my life.

The people I was with would not touch the food and brought up "the hair" a few times throughout the rest of the night. Though the whole situation didn't bother me in the moment, it woke me up last night, and put me in such deep thought, I couldn't go back to sleep.

***

As the hair tainted the food that I decided to eat, did I taint the thoughts my friends have of me because of my decision? Have they concluded that I'm repulsive or lacking in proper dining etiquette? What about my life experience made me make a decision like this? What do normal people do in these situations?

And so, I pondered.

The night of the incident, without a doubt, I was a little buzzed, and so full-on rational thinking was out the window, but I was NOT devoid of thought. No, my thoughts were quick, like lighting, and they were these:

1. I come to this place a lot. I know the people behind the bar well enough, and I'm just going to take care of the situation and move on without causing a scene.

2. I used to wait tables. Hair on food happens. We all wish it didn't, but it does, and it's not the end of the world.

3. Because I worked in a restaurant, I know what it's like to be on the other side of the table. No matter what the situation, when someone sends their food back, it's awkward. Even if the customer is the nicest person on the planet about it, the server plus everyone back in the kitchen knows that, "lady at seat 1, table 22" was upset enough about something so much that she complained and sent her food back. And now the whole dining experience is uncomfortable for everyone- server, manager, table. I'm not saying NEVER send back food, but I'm saying to ask if it's worth it first.

4. You can't complain at a restaurant discreetly. You have to do it in front of everyone around you, and that is something a server (like me) couldn't recover from. But say you don't complain. Are you going to sulk throughout the whole meal?

It's no fun to eat out with someone who gets upset easily. It should be a time of enjoyment, and if the people you're with are high maintenance or hard on servers, it can ruin a whole evening.

5. Sending back food worries me. You don't want to piss off chefs. They are an angry people with the perfect amount of control and distance from the situation to taint your food worse without you knowing. In other words, I don't send back food unless there's a thumb or something in it (this has never happened, but would make a GREAT blog post), and if it's fast food (this has never happened either), I throw it away because I got what I paid for.

***

Sometimes I wish someone would pay me to research and conduct polls about scenarios like this, to find "the norm." I would ask things like:

If you are dining out and find a hair on your food in a restaurant, would you:

a) chew the server out and ask for a full refund
b) chew the server out and then order something else
c) chew the server out and then order the same dish
d) politely ask for the plate to be removed and for a refund
e) politely ask for the plate to be removed and order something else
f) politely ask for the plate to be removed and order the same dish
g) not say anything and not eat the food
h) remove the hair, not say anything, and eat it begrudgingly
i) remove the hair, not say anything, and eat it without caring

 The answer to this question can speak volumes about a person. It could speak volumes about a whole social class. There is an understanding that can be found through the answer to this question.

***

In a way, I feel like a martyr. I chose to eat the tainted food the other night because I quickly decided I could suck it up enough not to cause a scene or create awkwardness with the employees there. This is all well and good, but I'm pretty certain I permanently grossed out the people I was with and this makes me self-conscious. It bothers me to have reasons for my actions that others may not understand. And the thing is, I understand their decision not to partake. I see their side that it was gross, certainly.

***

I've concluded that my answer to the above poll question next time will be e) or f) and only i) if I can remove the hair without anyone noticing.

What are you going to do?

***

Some people (mostly old boyfriends) have told me I think too much. I tell them it's because I'm compensating for their lack of thought. No, I've never said that, but it sure as heck feels like I'm compensating for something.

Originally posted on www.notawigshop.com...

Tomorrow evening, you are invited to 17th Street Studios' Open Studio Night. Come and see the spaces where local artists (designers, movie producers, sculptors, painters, ceramicists) work.























There will be food and drinks to enjoy, whether you quietly peruse artwork or intensely interrogate each artist. Some work will also be for sale.
















This is a great opportunity to support the work of 13 Knoxville artists. We'd love for you to stop by.



17th Street Studios OPEN STUDIO NIGHT
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
7-9pm
1642 Highland Avenue in Fort Sanders
on the corner of 17th and Highland in Redeemer Church