“We are all connected, there is no me without you”. I feel a great excitement about the show in which I am a collaborator; Titled: Simpatico, showing with Carl Heyward, we will display solo works as well as collaborative pieces, at the Fourth Wall Gallery, Susan Aulik’s place. The energy generated by being involved in this project has been amazing. “From the efforts of one with another emerges entity, THE THIRD MIND” Carl Heyward. I found out we would get the opportunity to participate in a show at the Fourth Wall Gallery last year. It was before the San Francisco International DADA show, which GAP, Global Arts Project, was highly involved in, creating visual work, as well as a performance piece. We also were coming off a show at Room Gallery; a beautiful show. I was disappointed that not one of my works sold, only one artist sold work, even though each piece in the show was stellar. I started feeling disillusioned by all the effort and money it takes to have shows, and couldn’t understand why nobody buys work? I went to the Fourth Street Gallery on a first Friday, opening night. I brought my babies, brother, and his girlfriend. We ate Ethiopian food first, super yummy! We walked down Telegraph Avenue to 25Th street, it was dark out, it was the first time I brought the babies to Oakland; My old stomping ground. I couldn’t believe the change that had taken place on that block, First Fridays: Food Trucks, cool earrings to buy, people, lots of people, there were lots of cops too. On the corners and around the perimeters. When I saw the Galleries I was in Shock. I had heard of Vessel, someone I knew had shown there, but I never made it by; It was a friend of my mom and I’s, my mom had just died, I was really sad. I lived on 19Th and Union in West Oakland for a while. I had an awesome studio in an old warehouse: Dark, lots of old machinery and old office stuff laying around. We’d get stoned and go down there and look at stuff. (We lost our space when a developer came and built fancy, expensive lofts: Circa 1999. We were pissed) I remember nights at the Stork Club where my best friends band, The Kirby Grips used to play. We’d dress up in boots and skirts, dance, get drunk, and ride our bikes home, looking down every street for the pack of wild pitbulls. As I walk down the hall towards the Fourth Wall Gallery there are shiny, pretty paintings on the white walls, bright lights, I peer into the other Galleries, some I go in, investigate further. Pricing is high here, except for a craftsman who makes cool political found art stuff, I can’t remember his name (Bad reporting here) The Fourth Wall Gallery is Gorgeous and Susan Aulik is an inspiring woman and has a deep connection with painting, being an artist, and being a supporter and soldier for the arts communities’. I feel fortunate to have met her! When I left Oakland that night I felt a bunch of emotional feelings. The way things had changed was both amazing and wonderful and I also felt there was still a disconnect. Art is so expensive, most people don’t have $4000 to spend on a piece of art. Susan, Carl, and I agreed we wanted more people to be able to own art, make art assessable for more people. But the question is, How low do you go? I proposed a sliding scale. But I’m crazy. We’re also going to have a big sale in December with lots of other artists! The ways the past merges with the present and informs the future is crazy. I don’t know why but that sentence just made me think of Diarrhea. When one person gets it you know it’s gonna make the rounds! Why would I even think of something like that? I better get down to the studio before Jack and Fiona wake up. I probably have an hour left.
Category: studio time
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Fan on, back and fourth, made it work. Can’t stop. Problem. When begin working on series, project for new show get obsessed. Forced myself to eat two hard boiled eggs, drink one red stripe and drink two cups of water. This is what happens. I have a lot to sell for $150. And I have my series almost complete. It includes various sizes on canvas, paper, and board. A variety of prices, a variety of materials. As well as collabs between me and Carl and Carls selection of Solo New Works. It should make for quite a show. For Sure. I just want to keep on working but I only have an hour and a half. Panic. I need to walk the dog, take a shower, and get it together enough to take the babies to the grocery store and make dinner. Today the worlds collide. How can I rectify this? I don’t know, but I know I need to leave soon to take Billy for a walk. I made good progress in my studio today. At least there’s that. I was glad to get to this week, I actually have extra help this week, perfect timing for show prep. It does feel good, but I wish I had a little more time. That’s the thing, when you have kids. I can’t just disappear for fourty eight hours working non-stop in my studio. I have to leave, not knowing when I will be able to work again. Jack seemed like he wasn’t feeling well this morning. What if he gets sick and needs round the clock Mommy? Or the babysitter gets sick? Or her kids? So many things to get in the way of my studio time. I take a deep breath. This is the way it is. Must accept. Input. Acceptance. Flow with it. Sympatico.
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My five fingers covered in blue, black, and brown fabric paint and ink. My palms stained, even my wedding ring is stained from the brown ink. I sit in my studio in a sea of little fabric paintings, four larger works on paper, all abstract. All almost done or done. What inspired me to work freely again was starting more notebooks, they had a sale at the art store, half off, I bought five. As I came in my studio this afternoon, after lunch, I hated my large fabric painting so took my scissors, made a little cut and ripped it up. Made several little squares, revealing fascinating little paintings. My first thought, put them in a book. A collection of several thoughts, experiments, ideas, mistakes, and successes. I want to paint another face, a figure, I am obsessed again, but at the same time I want to paint abstract, experimental. It feels good to have the burden lifted off my chest, the burden of if it makes economic sense to work in here, to take the time for myself to be in my studio. I decided it was totally worth it by any means necessary. Think it, feel it. Do it. I will not question my need to make art and write. A teacher once told me to “Go in your studio no matter what, even if it’s just to sit and do nothing”
It’s 4:22PM, I have thirty minutes left until my nanny leaves. I’m done in here for now. My paintings are all wet anyhow. Can’t work on them anymore. I just got a text message that says my daughter took off her diaper, it had poop in it, there’s poop all over the floor. When the nanny asked Fiona why she did it Fiona replies, “Wendy, everyone poops!” That’s the babies new favorite book, “Everyone poops” But Fiona, haven’t you noticed when people poop it’s in the toilet? I better emphasize that part tonight. I guess I’ll go in early and see if I need to help clean poop.
