I've had an art show up in downtown Knoxville this month that I'm taking down next week. It's at Kate Moore Creative and Jennie Andrews Photography studios at 123 South Gay Street. You may still be able to pop in there to see it during normal weekday business hours Monday through Wednesday of next week.

The final product of this show was really surprising to me, as I had a different idea for it, even a week before the opening. Changing my mind right before a show, however, is nothing new. I intended to make simple graphite drawings of buildings, but the idea to make multiple xeroxes of those drawings didn't come until about 4 days before I hung the show.

The originals- graphite drawings

I still didn't know what the outcome would be when I began hanging it. It took me about 7 hours to install, maybe 2 to 3 hours physical and 4-5 hours mental (because I am A} mentally inept or B} a creative genius. The jury's still out on that one)

So I made these small graphite drawings of buildings which was a welcome relief to me. Through them, I fell more deeply in love with this mysterious thing called art, which has all ready cast a spell on me. Graphite on paper is the equivalent to young autumnal* love. I became lost in the simplicity, the honesty, the vulnerability of it.

I drew buildings on the Knox Heritage and East Tennessee Preservation Alliance endangered lists- beautiful dilapidated buildings, schoolhouses, and homes. I wanted to "give them a voice," so to speak, so I put speech bubbles above them.

I decided to leave the originals blank, being satisfied with them visually and conceptually (you can see one of them here), but I also wanted to add text, so I decided to make multiple copies of them at Kinko's.

***

Over the past few years, I've been recuperating from an emotional low that hit me right after college. (I mention it a lot. I apologize if it becomes annoying) It had been building up for years before then, and so it makes sense that it would take years to heal from. In an effort to reclaim a sense of emotional well-being, I have filled journals with thoughts, read numerous books, talked to generous and loving people, and even researched online how to cope with pain, suffering, and stress...

***

I decided to put these two things together- the dilapidated buildings and the research I found online, statements or words people can say to help them cope with pain or suffering. From there, I began looking up quotes from famous people on the subject of pain. I filled in the speech bubbles with these words on the xeroxed pieces.

***

It might be presumptuous of me to assume what a building would say if it could speak, but I soon realized this was more for me than the buildings. Making these was a way for me to cope with the fact that there's nothing I can do to help these buildings. I have no money, no power, but I can draw, that's it.

Also, I hate to even say this as I hope people would realize it on their own, but it's meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Everyone knows it sucks admitting you have a problem with anything, but when you come out of it, (it might take some time, but) you can finally laugh at how desperate you once were. And it's funny because I find the websites on coping to be just as depressing as being depressed (Here is an example). It's all just too much...

So anyway, here is my artist statement and more photos of the show. And thank you, thank you for going to see it if you did. You are the bomb.org.

Of course, there were mason jars ;)

*Autumn love is far more romantic than summer love, at least in my book.

photo by Tinah Utsman

Here are the mason jar paintings I donated to Knox Heritage's fall fundraiser called The Scruffy City Soiree.

This leads me to give some advice: If you're looking to gain some exposure for your artwork, consider donating to an auction for an organization whose cause you can get behind. It puts your work in front of potential buyers of your work while also supporting a good cause. Win win.

Just make sure when you drop off your piece to include some business cards and a short artist statement.

Class dismissed.

Timidity Enters the Maze
acrylic, varnish, and glitter on canvas
28" x 22"
2008

In honor of the fact that I just mailed this painting off to Denver, CO, I thought I'd write about it today. It was made in 2008, close to when I graduated from college.

The idea for this painting had been in the works for quite some time.

Over the years leading up to the it, I became obsessed with this night time scene on a journal that someone gave me years before (it's the second image when you follow the link.) I loved it, but art school pushed me to make a different type of artwork, so it wasn't until after college that I gave it a try.

I was listening to a lot of Smashing Pumpkins back then, too. The image on the journal and their music put me in a similar mood- melancholy, pensive.

The maze in the image also made me think of the scene in The Sound of Music, when Maria dances with the Captain out in the garden. It's long been one of my most favorite cinematic scenes, and it is most directly tied to the composition of the painting.

So in 2008, all of these things came together at a time when I was very worried about where my life was heading- career-wise, in my friendships, relationships, mentally, spiritually. So I made this painting as a reminder to move forward into the unknown, in spite of my timidity.

***

If you like this painting, I have prints of it, and they are for sale here. Let me know if you'd like another size, and I can make it happen. Don't be timid.

I worked a lot last week for Knox Heritage (my part time job), as we had our biggest fundraising event of the year on Saturday night. I'm thankful it's over, and even more thankful I get to take time off this week for working so much last week.

I'm either going to be extremely productive in the realm of art and salvage with all this free time, or I'm going to lie on my couch a lot. (I spent this morning watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.) Hopefully I will find a good balance of both.

I'd also like to swim a lot this week. I've been going to the YWCA for the past month or so. It's in the basement of a beautiful old building (see photo below) and membership is only $40 a year. It's my new favorite way to decompress and exercise. My only complaint is that when I'm the only one there, I'm self-conscious about swimming in front of the life guard, who stares at me as I go back and forth. It's something I'm getting used to.



***

Money has been hard to come by these days, but the past couple of weeks, I've been selling more mason jar paintings, via Yee-Haw, my etsy shop, the Farmers' Market, an art show...






















I was going to stop at 100, but if I'm not tired of making them, I'd like to keep going. They're a good side project- fun, simple, and as my hands make them more easily as time goes on, I like them more and more. I think I'll know when to stop when the time comes.

***

Money looks different when you are (pseudo) self-employed, trying to "make it." When I sell artwork or salvage now, I'm so grateful. It's amazing not to have any clue if money will come, and then see it come- difficult, but thrilling.

***

I'm thinking about this fundraiser we had on Saturday. It was a big event. I was nervous and overwhelmed, but thankful to have a role in making it come together. All of our staff had to work so hard.

It can be tricky to put on a big event for so many people. Some made my evening extremely difficult, but then some, the ones with golden souls, would make me stop and look them in the eyes and they would say, "Thank you so much for all the work you've done," and it made up for the shortcomings of their less empathetic peers.

***

When I am extremely wealthy, you have right to slap me across the face if I'm rude to someone in the service industry, non-profit realm, anyone. Money or no money, we can all act entitled to certain things from time to time. It's easy, especially in hectic situations, to forget to breathe and be kind. I'm just as bad as the next person.

I realized Saturday night though, that when you feel like you're getting the crap kicked out of you by an impatient person, to take a deep breath and say, "I want to help you. Please help me understand what you need, and I'll do my best to help." Most people just want someone to listen to them, and when they realize you are, you can see their muscles loosen and their brow unfurrow; it's like magic. Unfortunately, this doesn't work with everyone.

***

I put three mason jar paintings in the auction that night, and the winning bidder hugged me when she found out I made them. Granted, she may have had a lot of wine that night, I don't know, but it was genuine, and she helped settle my nerves that had been wound so tight.

***

I've been hanging out with an old friend lately. After years of not seeing one another, it's strange to be spending time together again and surprising to both of us how much we enjoy one another. We go on bike rides at night and it makes me feel like I'm in college again, which is a feeling I always like, especially now that fall is here.



***

Life is not like the movies where relationships are mended overnight or even in a month. People change slowly, and sometimes it takes years to have what you wanted all along or to let go of things that don't matter that much. At least that has been true in my life.

***

Tomorrow I'm going to write about some art.

Yesterday, I watched the entirety of Sense and Sensibility on my lunch break. This is among the perils of being pseudo-self-employed- unforeseen, but welcome distractions. (It's ok, though. I worked late to make up for it.)



Anyway, I love Jane Austen movies (I can't say books since I haven't read any. Disappointing, I know.) That time period is so intriguing to me, how men and women conversed, all the expectations different people had, the importance of marrying well.

It's funny to admit, but I think watching Jane Austen movies has made me ponder over the virtue of patience more than anything else has. I always think about how long and drawn out everything had to be when there were only horses and messengers and letters. On top of that, how Austen portrays her characters, so reserved in their interactions with one another, how they wait so long to share their feelings with one another because of outsiders' opinions. The dialogue is so fascinating.

***

Today, we are able to communicate with people anywhere, at any time, with the touch of a few buttons, and though I don't necessarily wish to go back to letter writing, comparing the two makes me curious about certain things.

Like, do we take enough time to process our thoughts before we send them out there to someone else?  Could our ability to communicate quickly make us take friendships/ relationships for granted? Because of the nature of technology, are we more prone to expect, even demand, quick responses? Is it too easy to keep certain relationships going, ones that are not worth it?

If Elinor was able, would she have texted Edward to ask him what was going on? If she did, would he have responded?

***

There is something deeply romantic and genuine about how the relationships slowly unfold in Austen's stories. I think that is so much a part of their allure.

***

On a different note:

It's one thing to be patient because we distance ourselves from others and don't have any expectations of anyone. It's another to be patient with people while being fully engaged, fully committed, fully a friend to them. I am working on the latter.

I'm sitting in a room that is 8 x 22 feet, drinking a lemon Sanpellegrino leftover from last week's FIXIT Clinic. There are two drawings of me pinned on the wall in front of me, made by two young sisters. One portrays me as very round, the other is more forgiving, both sport bright yellow hair.

On my desk is a printer, an empty PBR can, labeled manila folders and hanging files, photos, pens, duct tape, application forms, a measuring tape. Beside me- papers, drawings, a sewing machine, a bulletin board of ideas. Behind me, extending to the back wall, wood, windows, frames, canvases, papers, paint, tools, boxes, my easel.

There is music (The Beatles) playing down the hall. Moments ago, my friend Amelia walked by my door and said she had to run an errand but that she'd be right back. She also asked if I had any candy.

"No," I laughed. "Is there any cake left in the fridge?" There isn't.

Carri just walked up the stairs, and we chatted for a bit about our weekend and how we meant to get here sooner today. Now, I can hear her working with her staple gun in the other room.

Where am I? No, it's not heaven.

***

I co-manage an artist work space with a couple of friends. It's called 17th Street Studios and this is where we make work. We began this project last May by ripping up carpet and painting walls. We are located on the second floor of the west wing of Redeemer Church, a space that wasn't being utilized prior to our moving in. Now, we provide (extremely) affordable work space to 13 artists working in sculpture, paintings, installation work, film, graffiti, printmaking, graphic design, ceramics, etc. Without advertising, we have a waiting list.
















I adjusted my schedule a few months ago so that I can be here during the day. Sometimes, I can be here all day, which is my favorite. It's then I feel the freedom to relax, to walk down the street for a meal with fellow studio mates, to take my time with working.

There are common spaces to spread out if needed. There are people to help straighten out thoughts and who will listen to ideas. They share their own as well as their tools.

It's a glimmer of a dream fulfilled.

A friend of mine and fellow blogger called me out last night for not blogging last week, thus breaking one of the rules I set out for this blog in the beginning. I appreciated it very much and found his prodding encouraging, as I still don't know what to think about this whole blogging thing anyway.

I began this as a way to stretch myself as an artist, to talk about the artwork I'm making, etc., but the problem is that most of the time, the things I want to write about have nothing to do with art. I hesitate to treat this like some sort of diary or a place to push my agenda about things.

I'd like it to be more like those happy, cute, sun-shiney design blogs out there, where everything posted is sleek and beautiful and makes readers feel like crap because their life will never look or be like that.

But the truth of the matter is that that's probably not going to happen, and what I and any artist knows is that writing about life is writing about art. Everything that passes through my life is reflected in what I make; making things processes all the information going in.

I'm scared, though, to be too honest here. I like the fact that people read this blog, even if they are just being nice to me, and I don't want to scare anyone off with things that aren't sun-shiney and bright.

The stupid thing is, if you know me, you know that I don't really have a filter for the things that I say, and also, that I am melancholy by nature. So why have a blog that is the opposite of my actual demeanor? To tell the truth, I've been trying the bullshit theory- that even if things aren't going well, project to people that they are, and they'll believe, and through the art of deceit, you will gain success. Or something along those lines.

***

I've been beginning a lot of sentences with the phrase "To be honest" recently. In seeking out and fighting for the life that I want to live, I have to catch myself lying all of the time, I have to go back to people and say, "You know when I said this, well, I actually meant that," or "You know when I didn't say anything then, I wish I had said this." In trying to be more truthful in real life, I want to do that here as well, so I hope you'll bear with me as I try this with some amount of grace, because to be honest, I'd like to let some f-bombs fly, which I know most people wouldn't mind, but I know many that would.

***

So when my friend called me out for not writing last week, what I really wanted to say was, "You know, last week was pretty terrible, and if I wrote about it, it wouldn't have been sun-shiney and bright, and does anyone want to read about me hitting a low point anyway?"

And as those words leave my fingertips, I'll get into it, because maybe it will help things get a little better. Maybe.

So the truth is, last week was rough for several reasons. For one, a deep friendship has become severed because of a disagreement, and I don't know what to do. It's painful and has made me hermit-ish and quiet. But I went out last night and enjoyed spending time with people I would like to know better, and as a result, feel more like a human being.

Two, my wrists and hands are in pain, so much so that if I don't take several advil a day, I can't sleep or do any work, and I'm really scared that the pain won't go away and am worried because I don't have any time to lose as I prepare for an art show in November. But it's making me slow down and think about changing things/ ideas which is good.

And, I saw a man that I've been pining over for quite some time holding another woman's hand. And instead of running the other way like I wanted to do, I shook her hand and said, "It's nice to meet you." And even though I like him very much, I've known all along he wouldn't be good for me. So it's fine in the grand scheme of things, but it hurts a little. Ok, more than a little.

And, I've been working 12 hour days and weekend nights, which is hard, but good, because if I "fail" at pursuing art, I have to know that I tried as hard as I could. And I'm realizing, in the end, I may have to give it up, but not yet. I'm still crazy (or stupid) enough to keep going with it. I'm going as fast as I can (which seems like a snail's pace) moving forward, and I get pangs of "What the h am I doing?!" but I beat the crap out of those thoughts because I've learned you have to be ruthless when pursuing a dream.

And there's more, but I'll stop there.

To be honest, I don't know if I feel any better, but the good news for today is, (besides this post) I'm not working, and that will be hard, but very very good.