I woke up having had unsettling dreams, tired and worn out. It was hard to get going. It occurred to me that I should jot down the dream, but didn't get to do it right away so the images drifted away while I showered.
After having lunch with CK today I finally went over to her new office with her. Although it is so near my own office downtown, for some reason I'd not popped in there at all. The building, split up into smaller spaces, is used by several artists and the scent of the place reminds me of the art hall at Beloit.
I can remember having ideas for projects in school as a kid but no one to work on them with me. Anytime I want to create something with my hands feeling at a loss as to how to execute what was in my head with my hands. I never got to take an art class after 7th grade ceramics. Not entirely sure why, maybe it was too expensive to buy supplies.
Like singing, art is a place where I feel resistance, my inner critic pushing me down, patronizing my ideas and efforts. Refusing to actually apply the word 'art' to anything I create. Craft yes, art no.
EXPERIMENT WITH FOLLOW YOUR HEART (EARTH ISLAND IN CANADA) VEGAN EGG, AND A CRUSTY LOAF OF SOURDOUGH BREAD - *My dinner tonight:* Steamed green beans, the sourdough bread I baked this morning (with a bit of my homemade vegan Butter-y Spread) and a vegan Italian o...
2 days ago