Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Dying Sculptures and a Camel Ride

Happy Tuesday! Here's a glimpse into my studio. I took this image this morning after spending three rainy hours working on my new sculpture that reaches from the floor to the ceiling (the yellow creature and the squiggly stuff at the top are part of it). I had a new breakthrough last week. I am including ephemeral elements in my sculpture: balloons, live plants, lights, pieces that are pinned together rather than glued, etc. This lead to a whole new body of sculpture:
So far, I've been calling this sculpture sketch a "jar sculpture" but really I don't think it's a very good name because it has very little to do with the idea... maybe "living sculpture", "dying sculpture"...

In "fine" art there is an emphasis on, and huge support for, archival work (work that will last longer than we do). There are two reasons for wanting this for its own sake: so that it will stand in the world for us when we are gone (immortality) and so it will be worth the pretty penny we are hoping to sell it for. I am not making a judgement on these at all. I'm pointing them out because I don't think it is often discussed directly and I sometimes fall in the trap of feeling like it's against some mysterious rules for me to make work that won't last. When I am making a painting, I totally think about how to make it last, at least as long as I do (mainly so I don't have someone call me and yell at me when my paint cracks and falls off...) and I DO want to sell paintings! It's one way that I can make a living from my creations. But lately, I have been thinking about the fact that my ideas and my process have nothing to do with lasting forever. In fact I think much more often about impermanence. Everything will end sometime. We are all moving breath by breath to our own death. We totally regenerate every molecule in our body every 5 years. In in five years you and I will be totally different people. I don't mention this as a doom-n-gloom reality check as much as a reminder to appreciate every moment. Each moment is different.

To play with this idea I put stuff in jars that will decompose, change, mold, etc. In this one I have string, soap, food coloring, an egg shell, a banana piece, green onion bits and yogurt. I am interested in watching it change and photographing it as it is both living and dying. It is one changing sculpture... or is it many sculptures?

On the outside of the jar, I made a sculptural response to what was inside with less ephemeral materials. Is it a shrine? I don't know. I also don't know if I will keep the outside sculpture elements and that I would like to find large glass domes to create these in (hence the fact that these are sketches).

Yesterday's yoga class theme: Having the humor to notice when it's just not right.

"Damn Thirsty" by Hafiz
First
The fish needs to say,

"Something ain't right about this
Camel ride--

And I'm
Feeling so damn

Thirsty."

Have you ever noticed that your job just doesn't fit your natural rhythm at all? Or that you are really a morning person but you stay up too late so that you are totally wasted when morning comes? Or that you thought you liked Pepsi all this time but when you really taste it you don't really? (maybe you just like the nostalgia it carries with it...) Often we are starving or thirsty for nutrients from life but we are really fish on a camel ride, doing something without questioning it while it is blocking or damning up the flow of ease and inspiration that exists infinitely out there for each of us.

What am I doing that is blocking my natural flow? For a while I was spending WAY too much time on the computer. Computers basically make me feel ill and I was treating it like I was addicted, checking it every few minutes, looking up random stuff on Google, stressing myself out reading horror stories about bad things that can happen to baby kittens, etc. Rather than being in my studio and just being there long enough for my process to start flowing I run back and forth to this damn camel disguised as a computer. Do I have to ride this camel in order to hop from one stream to the next? Is it OK to be a fish riding a camel as long as I jump in the water often enough? Can I really need something (internet access) that is not natural for me? Is there a way to make the camel go swimming?

Upcoming: I have some excellent writings and thoughts coming in about creativity, inspiration and spirituality from artists that I will be posting soon!

Keep it real and remember, the next breath you take is totally different from all the rest!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

thank you for this. i feel the same way about the computer, it's this crazy magnet in the other room. i get really bored on it but still can't stay away. BOO. time for some rationing. love your sculpture experiments, too!

megan bisbee said...

Thank you for your comment! I love the idea of the computer as a "crazy magnet". It's so true but how to ration?.... one solution I've found: only use it at cafes. that way I have to get out of the apartment and go for a walk in order to use it and then I'm totally focused when I get there. It can be quite productive to walk too! Yesterday I collected 9 umbrellas that had been shredded by the wind and rain. New sculpture parts! I always think that the common NY black umbrella looks like a dead bird when it's mangled in the road. Happy Wednesday and thanks for reading my blog!

Meredith Bailey said...

inspiring as always :-)

i have been trying to do my computer work in concentrated sessions, and then closing it in between so i don't get so easily distracted by it. now that i've made myself aware of my tendencies i think i'm getting better and my computer time has definitely gotten more productive.