Calendar August 18, 2014 11:58

August 18th, 2014


I have decided to give cardboard a try. The dumpster outside my apartment overflows on a weekly basis. Very nice boxes can be found, from amazon, overstock, various shoe providers... good, new, once used boxes on their way to be recycled into another good, new box. The point is, I have plenty of material.

And I have plenty of ideas. I am still working out the larger idea, as it seams I never really know what a piece will be until it is virtually finished. But I have this idea to work with the cardboard as a fabric, to take it from its rigid state and try and soften and curve it. And then to light it.



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I was attempting to create a patterned, layering affect of the torn apart cardboard to give it a feel of being one cloth. I was hoping that once the cardboard had been soaked in water over night, torn apart and layered back together with glue and water... that it would feel delicate and fragile.

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It is  definitely fragile. The whole form fell apart as I removed it from the mold. Failure is an option, as they say. But there can be beatuiful discoveries in that failure. And I am not one to think that my art, my ideas, will be manifested in one easy attempt. There are always failures, imperfections... do overs. The challenge is to be accepting of these failures and to learn how to think through the neccesary steps prior to beginning again.   defiTnitely

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Does the artist who does not have any failed ideas fail in their own identity as an artist? Would they not be pushing themselves hard enough to try new ideas, processes, materials? How important is failure in an artist work or in their process? Of course there are thousands that have perfected their craft and are satified repeating the motions in each new work they create. And I am by no means saying that there is anything wrong with this. Personally, my failures are teaching me more about my art than ever before and I would love to have access to the lessons learned by the great artists of today and yesterday through a discussion of their failures.



Posted August 18, 2014 11:58

Calendar August 14, 2014 16:53

August 14th, 2014


No, it's not a new thing... Blogging. Being a blogger. A bloggie. But up until today, exactly at this moment, it was never my thing.

But then there is this other thing. This... I'd like the world to see my art, thing. Sure, I am on facebook and I have a website and occasionally I hand my card to someone who will probably never go to either places. But that just doesn't seam to be enough these days, does it. I NEVER ever ever wanted to get to a place where I was bogged, or blogged, down by technology. Who can keep up with facebook, instagram, twitter, pininterest, linkedin, vine, and the thirty other sites I'm clearly missing and probably mis-spelling. I'm not savy with this sort of thing. But its important right?

So this is my goal, my intention, my committment. I will BLOG! For at least a year. I will share with you my art, my process, my inspiration, my frustrations, my successes and my failures. For a year. I will share with you my sketches, my scouting trips, my piles of trash. For a year. And after that I will share with you if it was worth it.

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I will sit here with my computer, my adorable lady pencil holder, my doggie under my feet... and give it a shot. So here goes....

Posted August 14, 2014 16:53

Calendar May 3, 2012 18:45

I live in a city. They call it a city, but I would highly disagree. I have lived in cities before. Seattle is a city. Denver is a city. This place is a collection of strip malls, parking lots, 99 cent stores, free standing homes with garages as the welcome mat, closed off yards and dogs. Endless potholes and dirty, dusty, desert streets and  many sad faces. And way to many cars. None the less, I live here.

I truely dislike this place and have fallen in love with it.

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It is about scale. The either very large or very small places are what capitvate me with this town and the region. The faded green paint on the oversized steps of a barrio home. A courtyard with trees, music, margaritas and friends in a forgotten neighborhood. The expansive sky. The isolated walk along a path cutting through the heart of this City. The standing strong and proud saguaro against the thousands that keep it company. The quick escape to the wilderness that this region offers. Standing on a roof watching the storms roll in. Standing on a cliff watching the trees breath miles below. Sitting in my yard feeling the peace of my little micro-climate.

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I love this place.


Posted May 3, 2012 18:45

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“The creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications and thus adds his contribution to the creative act.”
Marcel Duchamp


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