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.

...no, not even close, but I did screenprint for the first time today in six years. I suck at it! but am also really excited. It's so repetitive, it will be easy to improve quickly.

I used a little Speedball Kit I got a couple of years ago. I've had the screen ready for about six months, and today, I did my first run.



All I can say is that the unfamiliar is really daunting to me. I am really fearful of things I don't know how to do naturally (Oh, wait. That's everything.). I learned screenprinting at UT, but doing it on my own always seemed like too much.

Good thing I realized today it's super easy.

There's a moral to this story somewhere.



Can you guess who my inspiration is for this print? I'll give you a hint: she's adorable.

I lost this one for a long time, and then it found me.

When I first heard Greek Song by Rufus Wainwright, it gave me the mental image of frolicking through a field holding some sort of billowy fabric... or a ribbon dancer. Since then, I gauge how good a song makes me feel depending on how much it invokes that same feeling.

It's just really nice to know Régine Chassagne and I think similarly.

It's all in slow-motion.

She's in the passenger seat of a car full of friends. She looks out the open window across the sun setting over an expanse, her outstretched hand rising and falling against the wind.
Cut to skaters, grinding rails, soaring though the air.
Cut to scene at a club. His dark eyes meet hers across the crowded dance floor.
Cut to him in a navy hoodie, jogging through his suburban neighborhood at night.
Cut back to car scene again, she and her friends are laughing under a pink sky.
Cut to gym scene where he's punching a punching bag, sweat running down his face.
Cut back to the dance club scene. His hand is on her side.
Cut back to skaters.
Cut to him with her and friends, running across a football field at night.

Cut to cliche, bad-ass scenario in slow-motion.

I'm displaying some of my newest paintings at Otherlands Coffee Bar in Memphis February 2 through March 3. I've shown some work in Memphis before, but I consider this my official hometown debut.

The Opening Reception is February 2 from 5-8pm. I'll be there so please come out if you'll be in Memphis. I'd LOVE to see you.

Otherlands Coffee Bar
641 S Cooper
Memphis, Tennessee





P.S. Thank you, Miss Peaches.

That's not true, but

I've been checking out a lot of documentaries from the public library lately. The cold and my wallet have been inspiration.

I wasn't so sure, but it's becoming one of my favorite things. It's like school without tuition or papers... or reading.

I watched the first season of PBS's Art 21 about a month ago. I have this feeling we watched it in one of my drawing classes, but I can't remember. That's the thing with me and information- we love and then we lose each other.

One of the first episodes features Margaret Kilgallen. Even if I had seen her work while in school, it may have not mattered then, but it matters now.

She talks about seeing hand-painted signs for businesses around San Francisco. She loves their simplicity, their crudeness. She draws on trains and she makes massive murals of folk-inspired text and images on gallery walls.

It's a little troubling to realize someone else (over a decade ago) has all ready made the work you have dreamed of making. At the same time, it's a relief to know there's someone else out there that's a kindred spirit, that likes what you like and is a bad-ass at making what you kind of maybe thought about making (but probably never would have to the extent they did).

It's also exciting to think about what you can learn from art someone else has all ready made, how it can propel you like a pinball lever somewhere else.

***
I watched the documentary Beautiful Losers a couple of nights ago. Margaret was in that one, too. It included some of the same footage of her from Art 21. Why?

At the end you learn Kilgallen died after giving birth to her daughter.

(No)

I did some reading on the specifics. "Though diagnosed with breast cancer, Kilgallen opted to forgo chemotherapy so that she might carry a pregnancy to term.**" She died as a result in 2001 at 33.

A talented artist ends her career, her marriage, her life through sacrificial love.

(Sigh)

***

If she was alive, I would have liked to have written her a letter, maybe invite her to come to Knoxville. I think she would have liked it.



***

This came on while I wrote this.

*Also, this guy.
**Wikipedia