Student Interview

Recently, a student asked me to answer some questions for her class about being a local artist here in Austin. I thought I'd share the questions and answers. It was fun!

1. What is it like being an artist in Austin, where is there an abundance of great artists? Do they inspire you or create competition? I have been in Austin for a little over ten years and was a very shy person at first. I didn't really share with many that I loved art and that I have been drawing ever since I was little. I was afraid of the judgement, or critique, rather. However, being here has introduced to me many creative and wonderful people that have inspired me along the way to really embrace being who I am. Being an artist here has really been life changing. 

I am not sure if there is a right or wrong to answer the question of where to go about finding an abundance of great artists. I say this because, really, they're all around! We live in a city of artists of many mediums and I find them all to be incredibly inspiring. I don't think of competition when I meet any artists - quite the opposite, actually. They're a part of your community as an artist and you can benefit from learning from them and vise-versa. Networking and being present amongst the art community is an important aspect of being an artist. 

2. How did you first begin to develop your style? I have always been inspired by old fairy tale illustrations and ornate book covers. I have a love for drawing and line that was able to be expressed when I learned intaglio printmaking. More specifically, engraving. There is a beauty to the feel of pushing a tool through metal to create fine, undulating lines that is reminiscent old illustrated fairy tales. Indeed, many old illustrations were created by either etching or engraving. Although I have not engraved or etched in a while - whether it be ink or pencil -I still create work that is inspired by the line quality of intalgio. 

As far as content goes, I grew up watching an abundance of Jim Henson and horror movies. As a child, I gravitated to the dark, fantastical allegorical tales of the Brothers Grimm. There is a strong belief by both Maurice Sendak and Jim Henson (and many others like, Edward Gorey) that children should not shielded from macabre or horror in writing or art. It is a forever present fact of life. Why sugar-coat it? The Brother's Grimm stories are a good example of this. To end my mini rant, I can just say that I am happy that these images and stories weren't hidden from me as a child because of their deep impact on how I work and dream.

3. Where did you find your artistic voice? Hm, that's a tough one. Although one feels that they've had their artistic voice since day one of life, I can delve deeper and say that printmaking had a lot to do with it. I was in a place of being unsure if what I did was considered art. I went through many periods of having people tell me what I did wasn't art. Hearing that at the time was a bit shattering to me until I took a printmaking class. There was something all-encompassing about the print community that shook me out of feeling alienated. Defining art is such a broad and bumpy road sometimes; it is, in a way, in a constant state of change with no bounds. You have to remember to let whatever is coming out of you be your own voice, and not what everyone else says it should be. It took a medium to coax it out of me.

4. What inspires you? What does your art mean to you? I am inspired daily by many things! I may go on a tangent here and list many things! However, to be more specific, as mentioned in a previous answer, oddities, old books - even the smell of old books, nightmares, old ghost stories, children's books, a crackly record playing in the background, The Twilight Zone, nursery rhymes, cold weather, old scientific illustration ... so many things. More importantly, David Bowie (the many phases of him) and Jim Henson were a huge inspiration growing up. They still are.

I feel that without my art, I'd be even more of a socially awkward person. It frees my brain of my beautiful chaos and overflow of dreamy nonsense. I get to channel all these things into characters, worlds and little narratives. 

5. What element of your art do you feel is most important? Line. Line is king to me. There is nothing more entrancing when making (and looking) at art than lines done "right". The variations of widths, lengths and curves is very alluring to me. You can feel a sense of energy with line work. It can be really powerful.

Post East Austin Studio Tour Update!

I will start out by say that my first experience participating in the East Austin Studio Tour was absolutely wonderful. I was nervous as hell but it was well worth it. Having that volume of people see your work is both nerve wracking, yet rewarding. It was a good crowd.

Some work from my area of the studio

More from my little slice!

Neeka Allsup's mesmerizing wall.

Allison Geneser's gorgeous wall.

I finished every single work in progress that I had going, including the illustrations for the story written by Neeka Allsup, The Bear and His Catch.  Neeka and I framed them with the text as a preview during the second weekend of East. I feel we generated good reactions and feedback. I am excited to have it printed in the near future. Stay tuned for more information on that!

So, this is the first time in - well, I don't know how long - that I can start something without having a piece lingering in the background. I can start fresh. New. Take a breath. Try a few things. A different medium even. I would really like to give oil painting a chance again, and there is no time better than now, right?

Focus and Variety

Time ticks and the hours collect in your pocket as a reminder to get work done. You take them out, you count them and you see how much has been wasted instead of spent making art. Hey, that's life and life happens, right? You have grab those hours ahead and store them in your bank to cash out for what you love. Precious time. Art = time. Time = art. What? Yep. Curse you, pain meds!

Pain medication nonsense aside. Time is always something I think and talk about. I have always thought the one thing I would really, really miss when I die is making art and that still rings true. I don't necessarily think about death all the time, but I do think about conquering all the ideas and creating all the wonderful lines that I can, when I can. I spent a good chunk of last week drawing and jotting down ideas and I loved every minute of it. This week has been sort of a miss for me since I have been sulking in bed recovering from dental surgery. However, I am determined to do some mark-making even if it comes out completely awful. And yeah, again, I am on some pain medication, so I don't expect to make anything spectacular, but that's okay.

I have come so close to finishing the drawing I had shown in my previous post and have even started a few others. I didn't get a chance to take great photos of them, but they're still in the works anyway. So, so close to being done with the twins, though! Adding more ink, pastels and a few more details and it's off to being framed after that.

I have been told a couple times that maybe I should stop making so many masked/beaked figures, but I say nope. I will stop making them when they stop coming to me. "Aren't you afraid of all your work looking the same for a while?" Well, no, not really. Not only do I enjoy my time when I make the art that I want, but I also enjoy being able to think more expansively about the "theme" or "symbols" (for lack of better words) that I have in me during a certain period of time. I want to explore my work in graphite more, so I am. I want to dig deeper into the imagery that I have used quite a bit in my life, so I am. I want to explore the way the body moves, contorts and the ways in which I can exaggerate and distort it, so I am. I want to keep doing what I'm doing. So I am.

For me, building on my work lends to change on its own. Art does that. It naturally changes and flexes not only within influences of your outside world and art around you but also with your psyche. Sometimes, yes, I do think to myself, "oh, I will do a series of such and such" but that does not mean it did not come to me in a natural sort of way or sprouted from an existing idea. When I force myself to change the way I do things or force an idea that's not in me, then it usually turns to shit anyway. Moral of this story? It's not a bad thing to work in a series or to explore an idea(s) - it is not repetitive. It allows me to investigate and explore something in a variety of perspectives. This is sort of related to what I wrote about in the previous post, but it is an ongoing thought within me ... and probably most artists. 

So, once again, here is this guy. He's been redone a few times. I can't stop thinking of this image and became sort of obsessed to get it the way I want it. I think I am liking this version more than any others. He always seemed so regal, so the wreath framing and the crown seems fitting. I also noticed that the shading and the shape of the flowers on the wreath are reminiscent of the hair on the twin piece. Maybe I needed to complete that piece before this came to me? I don't know really, but I like where it's going. I want to write a little story about him. 

As for this doodle here in my sketchbook, this is an idea that happened at the most wonderful time. Quiet time. As you can kind of tell, I was in bed. Sitting and drawing in sweet silence after a lovely hot bath. It was awesome. My mind was at ease and the thoughts flowed like smooth waves from my fingers through my pencil. Magic. This is what I intend to do this evening while I am posted up in bed. I can't speak, but my hands can. 

Have a happy Saturday, all. 

Inside and Outside

Hello, friends. I thought I'd take some time to have a little looksie into what has been going on in my art world lately. Seeing how it's been rather difficult for me to keep up on the happenings, I may skip around a bit. Let's see ....

 Oh, hey! Look! It's a photo of Nudge Collective's studio. I am not the best at using the panorama feature on my phone, but it'll do for now. It's such a great space (Canopy in Austin, TX), and I have enjoyed my time when I work there. It is quite a different experience working from your home and working in your own studio. I feel as if I get a whole lot more done without all the distractions that being at home can have. There's no, "Hm, I should clean this or rearrange that." or "I'm just going to read this for a few minutes and thennn I will get to work!" None of that. I am happy to be a part of this space. I feel productive and inspired by the wonderful women with whom I share it with.

I really wanted to share more about the book Neeka and I are working on, but I have decided that I want to save that for much later when we're closer to finishing. We are getting so incredibly close!

I have been working on some personal work as well. I have had a recent fascination with the idea of twins or mirror-like images and, of course, masks. The idea behind the masked or beaked creatures are usually an aesthetic of which to hide behind, or social anxiety, rather. In a way - well, in many ways - it is about me and my personal struggles and triumphs within (the piece in progress below would represent the struggle). The twins, however, are somewhat representational to the battle of certain aspects of myself. Alike, but subtly different. Dualities. For lack of better words, they are perhaps seeking a balance of my introverted self and a social/extraverted self. This may seem a bit cliché, but the drawings flow rather naturally and usually without the conscious intention to make such statements. As art usually does, it just happens, and you look inside yourself to see and make sense of why. I find myself doing this more and more than I used to. By doing this, I feel more at ease with myself and therefore, more infused with creative juices. I suppose you could say ... my cup runneth over?

The most recent twin piece that I finished felt more triumphant. The beaked creatures face one another. Eye-to-eye. Feathers afloat. Yet, still awkward and strange. Happily acknowledging the imperfections, as if to fly with them. Hence, the title, As A Bird.

As a Bird, Graphite and Ink, 2015

The more I have thought about my work, even the child-like illustrations have ties to the idea of the battle of living inwards and outwards. I feel that this is something most of us face and is nothing new, but it is important to the individual. It always is. Digging deeper inside of one's self is always important, and often times, we fight some sort of inner battle. No matter how common something is to think and feel, it is a part of the individual being. It is to experience life. That being said, one side is not necessarily better than the other. The anxiety will happen. Some good, some bad. To me, transcending that anxiety into art is the key. Sometimes, as an artist, you are giving yourself therapy without even knowing it. Or perhaps it is always that way and it is only sometimes that we are cognizant of it.

Whatever it is that I am trying to say on my little tangent here, I know that art places me in touch with concentrated doses of missing intrinsic qualities of self and mind. It sets and restores a balance. 

And there you have it. 

Good night, friends!

Self-Doubt and The Pursuit of Art (or something like that)

It's been a while since I first had the thought to send my work to a publisher. On Tuesday, I will finally be sending my first packet off to one. I have sent many to publishers that accept portfolios via email, (of which there aren't many of) but this would be my first time to send a packet out. I can't say that I am not nervous, but really, (besides a bit of cash from the prints) what have I got to lose? Again, worst case scenario is that I either hear nothing and/or get turned down. 

I read this short article the other day from Juxtapoz Magazine's site by Michael Sieben that came along at the most perfect time. Not that long ago, I was having the thoughts of "I need a "real" job." and, "I'm not making any money and no one cares about my art, so what's the point?" And so on. But the truth of the matter is, is that those thoughts are bullshit. I am an artist. I cannot think of anything else that I would ever want to do. Sure, I'll work a part-time gig to keep me afloat, but I will never just quit being an artist. Honestly, that'd be pretty impossible. My pencils and inks are like my right arm. My heart. My soul. All of me. Come to think of it, those fleeting, yet defeatist-type of thoughts are just silly now. 

I think that perhaps my age was getting to me. Being 31 and feeling a bit like a late bloomer in life. Looking around to see your peers having their careers and whatnot. All that "grass is greener" nonsense. It all sort of gets to you when you're feeling a little down and out. It can sometimes jeopardize your goals when you let it take hold of you. Anxieties fly high and then, poof! - you're thinking of quitting. Let me tell you something. It takes too much out of you to bring yourself out of that type of funk. I can say pretty confidently that I am out of that mindset, but man, it was not a fun experience. 

Moving along to my point (if I have one). There are some notable quotes from Sieben's article that I'd like to share. 

"Now, I know that feedback probably sounds almost dismissive and/or naive. And I know that the underlying question is more, "How do I make money as an artist?" But the answer remains the same. If you're going to be a player in the art game, at some point, you have to realize that there's no coach." Yep. So true. No matter how much advice I get from other artists (of whom have been very helpful), the ultimate truth is that every artist's career path is different. How they got there and all. No one is going to hold your hand and point the way. You just have to make your own way. You have to survive getting rejected. You have to take some risks. You get the idea, and may be thinking that this is nothing new. It's not anything new, but it is new if you don't apply these things in real life. You can hear all the advice in the world, but nothing comes from it if you store it and let it fade.

"You're going to have to do a lot of unpaid work before somebody hires you for a paying gig. That being said, when you honestly feel like your apprenticeship is over and your dues have been paid, you're most likely still going to have to (metaphorically) pull yourself up by your bootstraps in order to get noticed. If no galleries want to represent you, stage your own art shows to get your work in front of people." I feel like this is where I am at. I mean, I cannot say if anyone else would consider my dues paid, but there's no better time than now to start pursuing what I want more aggressively. Let go of those anxieties and uncertainties. Just go with it, but lead the way.

"Self publish, self promote, self start - if you sit around and wait for somebody to start your career, you're going to be waiting for a long time. Like, till you're dead, dude." Not much to elaborate on here. It's just plain true. I could have probably been doing much more with art by now had I not been waiting for the internet world to save me. Don't get me wrong - the internet is a powerful tool and putting your work on the web is great. I definitely do it. However, that alone (for most of us at least) just won't cut it. You're going to have to really take charge on your own. Go out and mingle with your art community. Be around like-minded people. Network face-to-face. Be present outside of your comfort zone. No one else is going to to go out of their way to move your career along but you. 

"Every successful artist or commercial artist that I know has a backstory that entails a lot of penniless years with blind faith as their prevailing guide. The only common denominator is relentless perseverance and optimism. So if you want to know where to start, the only real answer is not stopping." Penniless years - yep, still there! Blind faith - check! Relentless perseverance and optimism - well, I can't say that my optimism has been on par all the time, but lately, I can say it has. You have to count every good moment, no matter how big or small, as a victory. If you think of them as nothing because you're not "there" yet, then, believe me, it gets really rough. Lastly, perseverance. Yep. Keep going. I cannot really elaborate much on that. That's it. Don't stop. Draw or paint or whatever it is you love - do it every single day. Aggressively. 

I am not just taking and/or dishing out this advice. I am living it. I am doing it. I am sending my work to my first "big" publisher with skin as thick as ever. I am saying "yes" to things I would have shied away from previously. I am putting myself out there. Rejection? Yeah, I have gotten it more times than I can count. What other people are doing with their lives? I am happy they're doing what they do, but it's not my concern. And age? I don't care about that so much anymore either. Was my so-called "falling out" a good learning experience? Was it eye-opening? Sure it was. Would I recommend going through that? Maybe? I don't know. I suppose it depends on what it takes to know what and who you are. 

Now, what I can recommend, is this article by Michael Sieben. Although I have quoted a good chunk of it, it's worth a read. 

http://www.juxtapoz.com/current/sieben-on-life-start-right-now

Stan The Pajama Man

Stan The Pajama Man

Stan, Stan the pajama man,

drifts into his dreams 

whenever he can.

He slips away on his flying catamaran,

to far away places.

Sometimes Iceland.

Sometimes Japan.

And sometimes Neverland.

He can be the captain

of a walking frying pan.

"Onwards!" He'll demand.

"Onwards across the purple sand!"

"Onwards to that castle-cave 

that looks so grand!"

Stan, Stan the pajama man,

wakes from his dreams 

with drool on his pillow sham.

He waits 'til the night falls

to tumble into his magical slumber

all over again.