L.A., in progress

L.A. (in progress), oil on canvas, 11x14" 3 hour session from life

I've reached a point in my life where all I really want to do is paint and draw, and all this other crap just keeps getting in my way. I was woozy and fragile from a 3 hour Benlysta infusion this morning, but this afternoon, I got to paint---and briefly, all was right with the world. This is in progress...I see things I need to change, but I like the way it's going, and he's a really good model.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

I've been thinking about this book a lot lately. Then, this morning as I tidied up my room, I came across an old journal--a journal that documented in painful detail one of the most challenging times in my life. I never want to repeat the experiences mulled over in that journal. It reminded me of the way Tereza was tethered to her emotions, so utterly committed to them in the most fundamental way. I've read this book a couple of times, and it's one of those books that shifts meaning a little each time I read it. The Times review, published in 1984, isn't a gushing one, but one thought caught my eye:
 

"We can hope, with Milan Kundera, not to enact one of his elegant paradoxes in our separate choices and discover that either one leads to the same exhausted end."


The movie is definitely worth seeing, but obviously lacks the nuance of the book. But it's hard to go terribly wrong with Daniel Day-Lewis and Juliette Binoche.
Watch it here:

A Poutin' House

As I become wiser, I see more clearly the need for a Poutin' House. Everybody needs one....for obvious reasons. So I've begun the search for the perfect Poutin' House for me. 

Then, someday, I'll build it, if only in my mind.

This place is so magical, you couldn't pout for long in it. And it's just as magical on the inside.     Perfect. Click the link below to see more images.

Magical Poutin' House

This next one is perfect too---I can't think myself into a corner in it! And, it's recycled material, so I'll feel good about that too. Win + Win = Winning!

Kentucky School of Craft

 Kentucky School of Craft

So much opportunity!
How do you convince people that the arts are a viable way of life? 

Can you teach old dogs new tricks?  

Here is a place dedicated to making art, and it sits virtually empty. What would you do with an empty building, a community that's only mildly interested and under-employed, many of whom have probably never stepped into a museum, and a license to make some magic?

I'm not going to pretend I have all the answers, but I do know that a lot of success comes from building a sense of community and a feeling of positive energy. No, not everyone who walks through the door will make a living as an artist, but taking advantage of the opportunities that are handed to you isn't just about workforce development. Creativity is what sets the individual apart, and studying the arts is a mighty fine way to explore that.

Tim Flach photographs

 

 

Tim Flach, see more at www.timflach.com

Tim Flach is a photographer whose work is somehow both epic and intimate at the same time. And they are beautifully, perfectly composed. Don't spend time thinking too much....just look.

Tim Flach

Carolina Dreaming

You and Me, Carolyn Jacobs, c.2005, oil, wax and sand on paper

Last night I dreamed I was inside one of my paintings. Underground, forced to scoot around because it was so cramped  I couldn't even crawl.  It looks very different though, because now I realize I've always painted the scene from the outside, looking in.  A small shaft of light illuminated the space, which was populated with amazingly large creepy crawly creatures. I was searching for something terribly important, and I knew what it was during the dream, but now that I'm awake, I've lost it.  I searched for a long time though.

I love and hate such a vivid experience------

Hey! My eyes are up here!!

I often say how much I love my job. I'm never bored and often opportunities to do really interesting things just drop in my lap---murals, collaborations with the symphony, meeting interesting people...many days bring something new and unexpected.

When someone wants to donate art to the institution, I sometimes go out and photograph it and get a sense of whether or not it's something suitable for the permanent collection. That's what I did today. I trekked waaaay out of town to a lovely, exclusive home in a gated community to see some work. Now, I had TONS of grading to do back at the office. Tons. So I probably wasn't in my most accommodating frame of mind.

A mature man opened the door and quickly showed me a series of nice, but 1970's dated looking works. Probably not something we'd invest in, but they certainly weren't awful. I turned my attention from the images and asked "Did you purchase these yourself? Why are you getting rid of them?"

"My tastes have changed" he told my breasts.

I turned my head, and looked around his home, which was tastefully and expensively furnished and zeroed in on the paintings on the walls.  I could barely contain the shriek of horror I could feel gathering in the core of my being as I recognized.....Thomas Kincaide.

"What's the department like where you teach?" he asked my cleavage.

"Which campus are you based?" he inquired of my nipples.

"How many students go there?" he mentally undressed my chest.

It took several more minutes before he gathered the information I needed about the work....during which time I was mocked by Kincaide images of sickeningly sweet cottages and brooks and flowers that do not die, and manufactured light that drills through my eye with shrieking "eek, eek, eek" that sounds like the stabs in the shower scene of Psycho in my head.

It was one of those times in my life when my exit felt more like an escape.