It’s been a while…

It’s been over a year since I’ve decided to write in this lovely blog.

Update: back in NYC, going to school, painting dams.

I’m really into dams right now, water rights, the idea of containment, and of course the west. I have all of these philosophical and social reasons for painting, and this huge concept in my head, but I think that will be for another post. Pretty much I’m writing in my blog currently because I’m off Facebook (also another topic to be discussed in depth at a later date) and I want to post some pictures. That’s the update. More to come.

Enjoy!

duality

Lately I have discovered the duality of my existence. At first I thought it was a problem, but right now I’m not so sure. Perhaps my pull in different directions makes me a rounded person, or perhaps just stretched out. We shall see. Or maybe as I explore one aspect of my personality I am in less need of the other.

When I was living in Arizona (yes was, I currently reside in New York City), I yearned for travel, for exploration, for mountains. I have constantly found myself yearning to be outside and communing with nature and with God. I am transcendental in that way, actually, in almost every way. I am an idealist and a romantic. I see the beauty and spirit in all things pertaining to nature and desire to embrace them with full force. I require little to be happy. Give me good food, conversation, friends, art, a walk through the woods, a book, music, a hammock and a soft place to lay my head at night and I will give you myself in its truest form. I embrace solitude for providing me with time to think and meditate upon my life and the discussion I wish to engage with the world.

However, I also discovered something else while living in Arizona. I traveled to New York for the second time in six months and revised my aspirations to become an artist, to live in a city that is alive with people and thoughts springing out of everywhere. I looked into the future of my existence as an artist and envisioned an obtainable life with connections and conversations that I never deemed imaginable. Here I stood, in the middle of a city, surrounded by mountains of granite and brick, and falling in love with this contrived idea of necessity- the materialist presented a need to be in New York to fulfill my dreams.

I say to fulfill my dreams because a few years ago I wrote out a life statement and within that goal I stated that I will be a famous artist by the age of thirty. This is no small task considering the amount of artists in the world with boundless abilities and talents surpassing mine ten fold. Even those people are not famous. But I determined that was what I wanted and almost every  decision since that moment has led me toward my goal.

So here I sit, in my apartment, on the Upper East Side, trying to enjoy the summer freely before I begin my two years of graduate studies at Pratt – one of the finest art institutions in the nation, and the world for that matter. Why come to New York in June instead of August? Because I knew that if I did not come now, I never would. I would find some excuse not to be here. I was already looking for one.

In the end of April I had doubts rooted in insecurity as an artist and the need for financial funding. I traveled to Brooklyn to visualize the school, to see if my person could fit into its walls. I invited my father to come along because I knew that if I didn’t go to school, he would miss his chance to be in New York and he was already so extremely excited to escort me with my move in the fall, I didn’t want to deny him of it completely. I found Pratt to be less daunting and more approachable as a school and as a program. I have no doubts in my abilities to excel there and in that environment. Plus, with the enthusiasm of my parents and my friends, why wouldn’t I want to? The funding came and I know I can do it.  But do I WANT it?

This is a question I constantly ask myself. Do I want to become a famous artist? What is in it for me? What is fame? Is that the only way I can be successful? No. I have contemplated what I want and continue to do. Do I want to make art? Yes. Do I need to be in New York to do it? No. Do I love the city? Yes and no. I love it in parts and pieces, a spot here, a corner there. I love parts of this city that I can find in other places. I love parks and bike rides and soft serve ice cream. I love friends. I love freedom. I love outside.  I want to drive across the west, take pictures and paint them. I want to make good food, art, and conversation and have others enjoy it.

So I guess what I’m saying is that this pull away from a transcendental life is not one that I need or want. I want to live life in its simplest and truest form. Because I have explored the one aspect of myself – the materialist we’ll say as opposed to the idealist – I have realized that it’s less of me than I thought it was. I don’t need it. I don’t want to go to graduate school. The dream I thought I once had is gone. But what do I do?

I sit here with this amazing opportunity in my hand, two months away from beginning it, and I don’t want it.  But what else can I do? I have no plan B. I don’t know what else to do. It has been my focus for so long that I can’t imagine doing anything else.  Do I go through with it just because there is nothing else to do? Or do I find the faith to move in a different direction? But I have no reason for anything else beyond my own ideologies and what if they’re wrong? They’re not wrong, and if I attend that institution I will be going against myself and my instincts. Two years down the road I will end up in the same place I am now, having an artistic network, but 80k in debt and less free because I will have to work to the bone to get out of it, doing the same thing I do now.  I guess it comes down to why. I don’t know why I would do either. They both don’t seem logical.  Two options, a duality of sorts – which will prevail?

I am an artist.

It is time for me to explore this statement more in depth.  First I will begin with the physical aspects that define me as an artist. I create things. I paint pictures and draw lines. My most recent works have been abstract organic lines paralleled with gray boxes.  I have a slight obsession with organic line formations. Why? I’m not quite sure.  I’ve been drawing them for so long that I can’t remember why I was first compelled to do so.  Perhaps the side obsession with topographic maps stemmed from a love for the outdoors beginning in my early youth, when we would hike the Superstition Mountains. Or perhaps there is a little bit of crazy in me that pushes me to constantly repeat and create the same thing because it provides me with some sort of security. Recently I’ve found myself attracted to landscapes and signs.  I believe it is because of my recent move to Arizona and my ability to travel. The scenery that surrounds me and the opportunity I have to enjoy it are the only things that are keeping me sane during my vacation? at “home” (that word and the definition of it will be discussed more later).  Most of my painting are oils. I abhor acrylics. I also do a little pen and ink drawings. I find them conducive to creating obsessively repetitive lines.

On a more philosophical note, I’m an artist for various reasons. There have been times in my life when I have tried not to create.  I have tried to convince myself that I don’t need it. That I don’t need the outlet. These have been the most depressing times of my adult life.  I have also found that I can not substitute one creative outlet for another.  I love to cook, but that can not be a substitute photography. And while photography is quite enjoyable to me, it does not bring me the same satisfaction as drawing, which intern does not compare with painting.  Why this is, I’m not quite sure.  I speculate that it is because my style of painting is therapeutic.  I’ll just say it: I’m messy and I don’t care.  I drip paint, I blend paint. I’m not meticulous (except when I add lines).  There is a release of some bent up energy that explodes during my unpredictable painting sessions. I need that.

There are multiple issues that I try to explore through art. They mostly correspond with things that I love and things that I hate.  Things that I love: the outdoors, communing with nature, connecting with people, understanding people, providing means of change, minimalism, travel, knowledge, architecture you experience (props to Frank Lloyd Wright), quality food and quality products,  faith, transcendentalists, Nietzsche. Things I despise: over-consumption, subdivisions, strip malls, constant isolation, mass production of food (mostly animal – this will also be discussed later), parking lots, disorganization, clutter, indifference, intolerance, ignorance, false advertisements and constant bombardments from pop culture.  Pretty much the baby boomers screwed us over, thanks Mom and Dad, oh and Grandma and Grandpa for wanting everything fast, easy and cheap. WWII – look what you did. Now I’m stuck with the consequences and trying to reverse everything.

Here is my artist’s statement from my latest show, it might help summarize my work more eloquently:

My attraction to the fluidity of lines began early in my youth.  I remember my notebook doodles in high school consisting of obsessively repetitive lines, consuming entire pages and providing me with the only escape possible during monotonous chemistry lectures.  Tucked away in the crevices of my brain until about a year ago, these organic lines began to resurface in the form of waves and topographic maps.  To me, the natural layers of the land and sea symbolize our own organic matter, or layers of our souls that must be explored in order to discover our true identity.

About seven months ago I attended a community discussion highlighting urban planning and the downfalls of most American cities. Of major concern is the increase in individual isolation within a community.  We are confined to boxes: our houses, our cars, our jobs.  These gray boxes impede us from interactions, which in turn dull our lives by limiting human connections. This lecture inspired me, forcing me to observe my surroundings in a more defined light. Everything I saw became either beneficial or detrimental to my personal growth and happiness. Thus, gray boxes were introduced to my organic, abstract landscapes; however, my boxes move beyond physical representations to include other obstacles we encounter in this land of consumerism.  We are constantly searching for meaning and worth in what society values as reputable and genuine.  We evaluate ourselves by what we obtain: the collegiate degree, the three car garage, two point five children, and the flat screen television with surround sound to boot.  Unfortunately, with the effort we dispense to procure this idealized life we lose sight of who we are.  We forget to ask ourselves if this “life” is what we actually desire or need.  I believe that for most of us, including myself, the constant bombardment from popular culture construes our senses of reality until maturity or perhaps even longer.  In order to overcome this delusion we must look to natural devices. We are beings made to feel, to interact, to think, and to have a purpose beyond this world and it’s destructive decadence.  We are not meant to be isolated by our boxes, but to overcome them.

“Not till we are lost, in other words, not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and to realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations.” – Henry David Thoureau, Walden. I encountered this passage during my personal study of Walden last spring.  The transcendental philosophies motivate me and I hope to pursue them with my artwork through painting as well as exploration into other mediums, and interpretations. However, I also wish to examine the consequences of denying societal influences. Is it possible to completely refuse worldliness, while continuing to live under its regime? Can natural desires and societal obligations coexist, and if so, what is the balance?

Hello world!

The suggested title for my first post on this still foreign entity reads: “Hello World,” and I think I’ll run with it. Hello. I decided to become a participant in the blogging world for multiple reasons. I’ll be honest, they mostly stem from a recent overwhelming sense of boredom, but I also feel that I have something to say and people should be given the opportunity to hear it, or at least I should have the opportunity to write it in a place where it can be heard (or read as the case may be and is).

Recently, I relocated myself from a place of security, enjoyment, pleasure, and usefulness to my parent’s house. I’m 24 and I’m living with my parent’s. Why? I often ask myself that question to be reminded of the answer: I needed a change.  I was bored. I wasn’t challenging myself.  I was living in Provo, UT, going through the same routine day in and day out and not stretching myself.  Most people become bored because they have nothing to do. I became bored because I realized what I was doing was getting me nowhere. Change, I needed change. I needed a new environment, a new challenge, I needed space. Funny thing… what you don’t get at your parent’s house when you’re the only child at home is space.  So I took a drive. I drove to Utah one week after I moved. I needed to be there to say goodbye once again almost as much as I need the 21 hours alone in my car. I needed to reflect on what I had just given up and what I would be embarking on: solitude from lack of friends, boredom of the usual kind, and freedom removed by concerned adults.

I’m here to say hello. Hello. Who am I? An artist, a sister, a friend, a daughter, a philosopher, a chef, a runner, a musician… and saddly right now an adult living with my parents. Hopefully that won’t last long.