Maddening

There is something so beautifully tragic about artists.  No, not something - everything.  Their pain is so well depicted in their art that can be universally connected to by everyone, yet no one notices that horrible elegance until it's too late.  This thought hypnotizes me.

I've spent the past two days watching art films.  From Basquiat, to Pollock, to Factory Girl, Frida, and Little Ashes; everything in between.  I can't get enough.  It's my addiction.  The fact that many artists discredit their own art to be mediocre may be crazy - in our time we study their pieces in classes, we call it brilliance.  Genius.  Maddening beauty.  It is such a shame that these revolutionaries didn't see the raw talent that they had at their fingertips - but if they did, would they not be the artists they were?

The term starving artist is quite enchanting, due to this fact.  You cannot get anywhere in art without developing your own mind.  Fighting your own demons, and even sometimes letting them overcome you.  That struggle is what makes these brilliant people connect with the entirety of earth.  They channel raw emotion into what they create without any second thought - it's the universal truth to them.  They have that unbridled confidence in the inner trappings of their own mind.  Is that what all of us wish to do?  Is that why we connect with these works of art that are most often barely noticed during their age?  Is that why some people call this unadulterated madness - because they can't connect to that primal self that's within each and every one of us?

Something to think about.

Creation

"I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life. People sometimes say that the way things happen in movies is unreal, but actually it's the way things happen in life that's unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it's like watching television — you don't feel anything. Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television. The channels switch, but it's all television."

Warhol.

I'm watching Basquiat right now, and it's so inspirational.  The art is beautiful, because of the primal and emotive expression - all I want to do is create in my basement tonight.  Sleep is a waste of time.

He was a normal human being like every else, but chose expression over anything else.  I never feel more alive than when I put paint on the canvas, or see the act of creation.  It's so fucking beautiful.  Emotion in it's rawest form.

I feel like I'm not watching TV when I create.

What are mistakes?

New Day, a new post.

    I went down to Chagrin falls today with my mom to pick up some starbucks and go to Rick's Cafe.  I'm not one for crowds, so we went out to eat early.  Rick's recently redid (or maybe not, it was recent for me.) part of their restaurant to have the wall looking out into the street completely made up of windows, so it was perfect for sketching the people rushing back and forth down the sidewalk.  There was some type of event going on for the elementary school, so it was the busiest I have ever seen it - other then the Blossom Fest of course.  That, however, is just a shit show, excuse my French.

  Reminds me of my high school days; even though they were only two years ago, it seems like it was ages since I was in the halls of Beaumont.  I go through cycles of missing that school and thanking God that I'm out of there.  Sometimes I wish I realized what life really was back then - I took that school for granted.  I took everything for granted.  Let's be honest, everyone is incredibly selfish in their teens.  Now, I'm barely out of my teens and I'm not one to talk; I just didn't look around and truly appreciate the privileges that were being offered to me.  I did have many things going on during that time, and I won't go deep into that story.  Long, boring, sad, pointless.  But whenever I start regretting how I lived during that time, I wouldn't be where I am at this point in life.  Everything in our past was essential in creating who we are now.  I have no room for regret.  That's what I remind myself, anyway.

We're human, we'll always have regrets.  Where would we be without it?  It's what we look back on and hope to improve on for the future.  I just don't view them as mistakes anymore.  They're pinnacles of education.  Who was the person to come up with the theory of mistakes, anyway?  I would like to have a word with them.  Some of our decisions may not be the best, but there's nothing wrong about it.  Look at the tests we've taken.  Mistakes marked in red ink - we've grown to dread that color.  It's a beautiful color.  It's parallel to 'mistakes'. Why dread mistakes?  How would we learn without them?

We aren't perfect creations.
However, the imperfections are beautiful.

Pinnacle

Inspiration is a funny thing.

Sometimes it hits you like a bolt of lighting - in the middle of nothing, something beautiful and otherworldly occurs.  Other times, it takes months to reach the level where you feel as if you can create something that could connect to the world.

I feel like I am at my pinnacle right now.  No distractions, no interference.  Just me, surrounded by nature and peace.  What more could I ask for?  All I want is to spend every hour of every day making something original.  Now, this may sound cliche - I understand.  Pop culture, technology, the internet, fashion; it's all about trends - what's popular or in at the moment.  Where's the diversity?  This may seem a lofty goal, but I would like to make that diversity.  What was so abundant in mid-century culture.  Be that lightning bolt of inspiration that has been so lacking in humanity as of late.

This may be the wine talking.  Maybe it's my craziness.  Maybe it's the truth, trying to shine through all the chaos of 2012.  I don't care.

This is what my life was meant for.

beauty

I had to share this art.  The words said in the beginning embody everything I have ever felt.

"I was always an unusual girl.  My mother told me I had a chameleon soul - no moral compass pointing to north.  No fixed personality.  Just an inner indecisiveness as wide and as wavering as the ocean...I belonged to no one.. who belonged to everyone.  Who had nothing, who wanted everything.  Who has a fire for every experience, and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point where  I couldn't even talk about it.  That pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both taxed and dizzied me."

work hard, play hard

I think tonight I'm due for a bit of relaxing.  I wasn't planning on working today, really I wasn't, but then I got bored and... this happened.

Now it's nowhere near completed, but I worked far more on it today than I should have.  I still have to clear out the basement!  I've organized it and gotten rid of a bunch of stuff, but seemed to have only made a dent. Clean room, clean mind - or at least that's what I'm going for.  This mind hasn't had thoughts running a mile a minute since I was five.  

And if I don't get a working dishwasher soon,  I am going to go crazy.  Or more crazy. Eh, another topic for another time.  

Routine Days.

   Painting got a bit.. well.. messy last night.

   Doing a splatter series, I should've seen that coming and worn the appropriate clothes; I've pretty much accepted that by the end of this month the last of my tops and leggings are going to have some new creative touches to them thanks to my paintbrush and lack of couth.  Somehow, some paint found its way on to the ceiling.  Not going to question that one.

Plans for today?  Nothing.  Nada.  Going out to pick up something to seal my charcoal drawings with - if I can find it.  Other than that it will be a pretty easygoing fall day; tonight I'll be watching the premiere of American Horror Story WHICH I could not be more excited about.  Perfect for some inspiration to do some halloween inspired drawing.  My mom and I are cracking open a bottle of wine to celebrate like we do with any premiere.  This one, however, she has not seen yet.  Seeing as she scares easily - and I mean like Pasha easily (My dog Pasha with PTSD. Long story.) - I figured getting some alcohol in her would make her less jumpy.  Or more jumpy.  Either one would be equally acceptable.

New Series

Finished two new paintings today!  It's exactly what I needed.  Part of my new series Splatter.   Going to do about three more of these as of right now.  Maybe more, but time will tell.  I tend to give myself some pretty lofty goals.

Listing.

  I have to say, I underestimated how tiring being on the computer 12 hours a day can be.

  I miss painting!  I was planning on sitting in the basement at my drawing table and letting it flow for a good portion of the day, but then I spotted the rest of the sculptures in the corner of the room that I was planning on putting up for sale.  Distraction number one.   Plus, it's so beautiful out - when will we get another day like today?  Distraction number two.  This is Cleveland, so probably not until mid-December when it's that odd day where it's 60 degrees despite Christmas being in a week.  Too windy though, the last time I tried to paint outside my easel was falling over every few minutes.  Nice idea, though.  I suppose I will have to wait for another day.

Anyways, earlier today I put up the torso I made senior year at Beaumont along with some other pottery that you can find here.  If you're curious, follow the link.  Don't be afraid to leave comments with advice on what I can improve on in my shop, or any other anecdotes!

Thanks for reading, friends.

Passion.

What keeps a person from fulfilling their passion?  That's my question.  What's more important than making yourself happy?  This is a recycled statement, yes, but how can you make a person happy without accepting yourself first - realizing your true potential?  Really think about that.  Don't just glance over it as I'm sure many of you have done before.


I've done it. I've written it off those silly inspirational quotes numerous times before.  However, where do cliches' come from, if not a portion of the truth?


If you are like me and don't know where you're going to in life, don't fret.  We're young!  We have time to figure these things out.  First: find out who you are.  That's what is important.

The Process.

What's your process when you're creating something?  Everyone has a routine.

   I'll wake up in the morning, have about five cups of coffee, (not an exaggeration), sit down, and just let my hand guide me.  I never have an actual idea of what I want to create; I just let what I'm feeling project on to the paper. Usually I like to sit outside, but unfortunately the cold is coming upon us. I'm confined to the indoors.  I've noticed my inspiration has been decreasing since the temperature has been lowering, but it's still there.  I just have to find something else that triggers it!  Starting up the Etsy shop plus all of the promotion I've been doing to try and get my name out there has definitely taken it's toll.  I think tomorrow will be a day for creation, and nothing else.  Maybe I should swear off the internet for awhile.  Doubtful, but a nice thought.

  Anyways, any of you artists there, this is for you!  Share your process with me in the comments below.

Journey==

It's been quite the journey getting to where I am now.  I've gone through many trials and defeats, and have learned a hell of a lot about myself along the way.

I have always had an interest an art.  It was rooted within me from a very early age.  Nature has always been my inspiration - I remember when I was only five years old my parents had a path made of stones put in the backyard that lead to our pool.  I would walk into the woods, take as many stones as I could carry, and smash them open with a hammer to see what was inside.  I was enthralled by the unique designs, sparkles, and natural images that I could find within them.  I always secretly hoped I would find something fantastical if I cracked open enough of them.  Later on I realized that my inspiration and fascination with nature began then.  Something so natural, something that was here on this earth long before we were even primitive beings, was so beautiful without any type of interference from anything else.  If I could just manage to spark that same eye for natural beauty inside someone, even for a second, that would be a life worth living.

That's where art began.  I was always a different, and I used to think that was something horrible. Aren't we all told from an early age that very same 'ideal'?  Normal was my impossible goal - an aspiration that I could never reach no matter how hard I tried.  The more different art was, the more it was appreciated; that's what drew me to it.

Now, the general consensus is that usually school crushes creativity.  However, Beaumont  helped me to realize it.  It was in me all along - I just did not have the confidence to channel it.  The fabulous teachers, (Mrs. Carreras, Sr. Lucia, Ms. Dickinson, Miss Sally!) gave me the tools to open my own eyes to the fact that everyone has it.  It's up to you to find it.

 Now I realize that normality is highly overrated; actually, I consider it a myth.  I thrive in my differences.  Looking back I realized that my past so far has been my own piece of artwork - one that I will always be working on.  Art isn't only just found on canvas, in sculpture, or in words.  It's every gesture, thought, action, and moment in your life.  Everyone is an artist.  And with this, I live my life every day hoping to open a person's eyes to that natural beauty.  Whether it be my art or the thoughts on this one simple blog post.  Without interference from anything else in this world, you can achieve the beauty that seems so impossible to grasp.  The only tool you need is yourself.