Work in progress: dahlias and hummingbird oil painting
The good part about having a huge, looming show objective is that you’re given carte blanche to create your work. There is absolutely no bad part (except that there is still, strangely, never enough time).
Portrait: rabbit in scarlet frock
More than ever, my head is filed with dreams and dolls. I scramble to get them realized before they dissipate. They also begin to compete with all the show logistics I’m struggling to understand: the commerce, the merchandising. The being in public.
I’m really hopeful to have a lot of new work to display come the end of June. I am juggling 3 dolls and 4 paintings at the moment, with thoughts and plans for much, much more. I paint and sculpt and sew and sand and seal in between everything else, then try to fit in a little bit more. I’m not going to lie: it’s heaven.
JF Sebastian (Blade Runner) surrounded by his manufactured friends
I realize it’s time to clean my studio.
Like many highly-creative people, I am not a natural organizer. I have a high appreciation for people who are, but my brain does not naturally compartmentalize, label, or sort. I often wish it did, but it does not.
And I find that my projects are an ongoing conversation; the more I see the things I’m working on, the further they speak to me and develop. A good portion of my process I refer to as “air painting,” whereby I paint ahead in my mind. Throughout the day I’ll often stop and stare at my work, as my brain works ahead of my brush.
So you see, although I’ll tidy often it’s not conducive to productivity to stop and clean out my art studio.
But, to be honest, it’s mostly the friends.
I saw the movie Blade Runner as a young girl, and rejoiced in open-mouthed wonder at the scene of JF Sebastian and his home. He was an inventor, and filled his home with living dolls and robotic wonders as companions. I wanted this, too.
Dolls in progress on my workbench, patiently waiting their turn in the process: steer, devil bunny, alpaca
Although I never got the animatronics part figured out (yet), my art studio is filled with the presence of the dolls I create, and I find their company very soothing. Their eyes watch me, seemingly cheering me on even while their heads lie disincorporated and awaiting attachment to forming bodies. Completed, they stand a silent army of compatriots in my personal palette, clothed in velvet and lace, always silent assent. They’re wonderful community. And yet, I need a little more room to create.
My goal today is getting close to an elusive balance of work space and organic sprawl, without losing presence of the company I keep.
