Another year... Another Moleskine

i am clearly a creature of habit.
and a loyal consumer to the products i have learned to love.. and quite possibly can not function without.

this time of year is always a challenge. switching from one calendar to another. And with the change of the year comes the awkward few weeks of accidentally writing the wrong year on everything and statements like "this is MY year".
well, if anything is apparent it is that time moves on. and 17 days into the new year i will with much reservation move on from my twenties into my thirties. ..

its hard for me to believe! thirty years into "it" and i am happy. happy to be surrounded by my loved ones. happy to know who my friends are. happy to be successful in my path. and happy to be alive and (almost) 30.

happy sprouts

Well wishes do come true!
I found this little $3 plant during a late night Walgreen's experience. He was happily living in my office making my work day delightful when the Vortex of Negative Evil that sometimes takes over my workplace killed him D:
I arrived to the office one Monday to find my guy sans leaves! ohhh no. I brought him home to my lovely little Boofie Cave (apartment) which is clearly filled with positive energy & "all things that are good", re-potted him and wished him well.

After a month and a half of no signs of life -- I was shocked the other day when i noticed -- SPROUTS! wow.

HAPPY SPROUTS that will not capitulate to the Vortex of Negative Evil... and neither will I!

"Okra lovers Unite."

Word of mouth lead me to what turned out to be a very inspiring lecture of ideas by Amos Paul Kennedy Jr, a letter press and book artist from Gordo, Alabama. His ideas seem simple yet unexplored. Their intention is to stir emotion and inspire.

"Why is it fair that we are trying to better ourselves with higher education and then leave institutions as indentured servants with $20,000 in debt?!"

Amos lectured on minimalist principles from how much to charge for artwork to what makes a person happy and it doesn't really matter where you live -- as long as you are able to create. The latter is a thought I have had the past two years.

I wonder if i would create more if i was surrounded by like-minded people that i could share ideas and create energy with or if being surrounded by those very people would distract me to the point that i would create less. At this point in my life, I am my best & hardest (and only) critic. Whatever I think is right! and good!... because i am the only one subjectively critiquing. which seems to be a great way to work by way of feeding my own ego and confidence in my work.

For Amos Paul Kennedy, this seems like the only way to work -- no distractions in the small town of Gordo Alabama (pop. 1,677), plenty of time to dedicated to the art and be simple.

"Artist have the biggest egos." because their ideas are exposed to everyone.
raw feelings on the line for others to openly critique.

Thrift Store

Really. Nothing makes me feel more "Lubbock" than a Thrift Store Cowboys show.
http://www.last.fm/music/Thrift+Store+Cowboys/_/Damn+New+Mexico

And this weekend was no exception. I went to a Thrift Store show on Friday night and it summed up my Lubbock experience perfect:

BEAUTIFUL. LOCAL. FUN. LONESTAR. TOWNIES. COUNTRY. ALTERNATIVE. LOUD. ENERGETIC. AWKWARD. OVERALL GREAT!

Just as I can not fathom why 54 Seconds:
http://www.last.fm/music/54+Seconds/Coma/Complicated
one of my favorite Austin bands.. is not FAMOUS yet!.. I can not imagine how the Thrift Store Cowboys are not "famous" yet either.

I guess just as most contemporary artists might live -- undiscovered these bands are one in the same. Undiscovered. I hope one day they will be. And maybe they will GET THEIRS. Just as most artists should. :D

i do!

photo: me. my favorite office coffee mug

Everyday should start with a little Milton Glaser.
http://www.miltonglaser.com/pages/identproj/id_index.html

I had a conversation with a friend last weekend about how "men are more talented than women". crazy thought. but.. hummm, I wonder if it is true. I think about all of my immortal heroes: Dario Robleto. Matthew Barney. Ryan McGinness. Banksy. Egon Schiele. Tord Boontje. George Orwell. Massimo Vignelli. The Factory. Donald Judd. Milton Glaser. Herman Hess. Sagmeister. Wes Anderson. Anthony Bourdain. the asterisk.

ALL MEN.

well, the gender of "the asterisk" is not yet determined but I would venture to say the asterisk is in fact a man -- characteristics being physically secure and confident, sarcastic, alterior motives, underlying meanings and hard for most to pronounce. a man.

What is it about these men that made them so? And is "it" something that is unattainable to women? Why are all of "the greats" -- at least the ones in my world -- men?..

I was once mistaken for a man before an design interview. I submitted my resume, was called in and interviewed and then in a moment of honesty the Art Director told me -- based on my resume, their whole firm thought i "was a man". I was impressed with myself. And inspired to make more non-gender specific art.

I don't want to be a man. I love being a woman. And I love men.
But surely there is more to this than simply "men are more talented than women". Maybe it is something that men posses that women are simply lacking. And does that lacking include all women? fingers crossed that maybe I am in the minority and one day I will wake up and realize that I am too am one of my own immortal heroes.

sew it seems..

Another addition into my exploration of ideas :) A Singer "Tradition" sewing machine!!
My sister began to teach me how to sew this summer. After I nailed a few projects... I was hooked! During the August Art Market my dear Grandmother, Michaela Villegas, came to visit and was so surprised that I had learned to sew. Being the generous and caring Grandma that she has always been, she offered me her beloved sewing machine -- the machine that single-handedly made each member of our family their own "colcha" (blanket).

I was elated! My mom trekked out to my Grandmother's house a few days later to pick up the machine. She was to take Grandma's machine to the shop for a routine maintenance and then I would pick it up from her house.

Later that week, I arrived at my Mom's house... and to my surprise my Mom had bought me my very own machine! Apparently Grandma's machine was worn beyond repair and would have been difficult for a beginning sewer, such as myself, to use.

I have had a great time playing with my machine and making new things. So far I have made -- lavender scented eye pillows, cloth headbands, yoga mat bags and attempted a clutch bag... which turned out to be quite a failure. My Singer Tradition has proved to be, as everything in my apartment must be, very portable. I set it up in the kitchen usually right after dinner :). What a perfect place to feed my creative exploration of a new medium!

And how fitting is it that my mom gave me the Singer "Tradition"? Just as it should be named. I will work to carry on a tradition that has been in my family for generations. Maybe one day I will make "colchas" for everyone just as my Grandma Mickey did.

lucky me.

My relationship with the vehicle called ART has been exciting, experimental, challenging, heart-breaking, consuming, rewarding, positive, negative and overall life changing. The feeling of physically being productive and having the ability to transform my ideas and experiences into works that could potentially out live me consumes me and... i feel lucky. It is a beautiful energy that I willingly allow to take over my thoughts, heart and briefly my life.

Each time I fall into that all-consuming place i am reminded of why love being there.

"have fun! make art!" -- Pehr Smith

Not the first time... hopefully not the last!

I recently made a piece that was a representation of my "digital identity", an Artist Self Portrait in the form of numbers, passwords, pin numbers, uniform resource locators and various email addresses.

This piece is a commentary on the shape of people within the "system" of our society's indifferent dependency on modern day conveniences. After completion of the piece I realize just how "out there" I am (and how many accounts i have!). My identity and personal information could potentially be very accessible. The thought that my information/identity would be on public display made me feel (briefly) liberated yet very nervous. And the idea that any reaction -- be it good or bad -- surfaced in my work yet again.

I was asked to donate a few works for a Young Professionals group exhibition -- so I donated a tripic painting as well as my Artist Self Portrait. The pieces were dropped off at the gallery a few days ago and the installation was set for last night. I couldn't shake the idea that my identity would be on public display for a month! With an anxiety filled heart, I went to the gallery last night for the installation and upon talking with the gallery owner -- he advised me that, although he could see my self portrait was very "conceptual", it was not a "good" idea to hang the piece for many reasons but the most obvious being that I had marked the piece "NFS". That's right. Not For Sale. Actually selling my identity is not what I had in mind at all and completely defeats the message behind my work. So, after a long discussion with the gallery owner about the price of my piece -- I made the decision to pull my own work from the show.

Although I am very disappointed, I am thankful for the shaky thoughts that have crossed my mind the past few days and rattled my somewhat steady existence. This piece has, just as all of my work has, taught me about who i perceive myself to be, who i think i am and --- who i really am.

Hi (another) guy!

I was stuck in a bit of a creative rut today. (it happens.) i was looking for a display font to use (... yes, i was so desperate, i was headed there) and although i am not sure that i found what i want/need -- i did find THIS GUY!:



ha! the sight of his sad little face really made me smile! i want to give him a hug and tell him that everything will be ok!

meet this guy and some of his friends!

+

it seems that all is right.

i cant explain the meaning of my statement -- but it just seems that so many missteps have lead to -- the right step. a true testament ... to things coming full circle. just when i thought i couldnt bear another minute -- everything changed! minutes became stepping stones for ideas fed by love carried to clouds which have rained production.

and now love. for all things life.

Labors of Love

Therapy Artist Collective, my sister Marci & I, participated in the second monthly DAM {Downtown Art Market}! It was a great opportunity to pump out some new artwork, meet other creatives and give the community an opportunity to buy some THERAPY -- "everyone needs some."

we "decorated" our tent with these awesome paper flower print globes. the pink matched that of our therapy logo. of course!

the Therapy Artist Collective sign hung proudly on our tent!


table spread inside the Therapy booth, complete with mock up gift wrapping that we offered to our customers.



Although it proved to be a blistering hot summer day in the heat of texas we kept our spirits alive and well! Marci and I have never shown art work together and surprisingly our work... works. together! many of the colors Marci uses in her bag collection are same of my poster work. which is surprising in itself because we work independently at our own studios. i guess it is a testament to the idea that we are a COLLECTIVE. we inspire each other to create and obviously share an artistic aesthetic.

Marci & I seem to work well together on all fronts. our booth proved to be one of the popular spots at the art market and we were proud to see people leaving the market -- Therapy bags in hand! while sweltering in the heat we couldnt help but feed off of the creative energy all around us. marci & i made a list of new Therapy items to be featured at the next DAM.

i am excited to be a part of this blossoming art venture which will potentially shape our large texas town into a thriving artist community.

lucky rocks

the San Marcos was just as lovely as i remembered it -- a crisp 68 degrees -- which, by the way, is the perfect temperature to compliment the hot texas heat.

my hair did not wave the same way it used to. and i attribute it to the loss of my 10 inches.

the river water was so clear. standing on the bank of the river -- i could see the rocks at the bottom! i found a flip flop floating solo and made a 5 rock sculpture on some stairs.

i would completely ignore all of my responsibilities if i lived near a body of water this beautiful -- so i guess it is a good thing that i do not.

neighbors

the past 20 months i have been neighbors with this communication tower. i see it miles before i get to my house and every morning as i am leaving my house. it has become a landmark to me, a staple in my life. my entire neighborhood is flooded with these communication towers but i can always spot "my" tower out of the many that line the horizon on the south side of town.

as i prepare to move from my neighborhood, my house, my side of town -- i am a bit sad to leave "my" tower behind. thankfully i have an abundance of photos and even a few paintings documenting my time spent with this tower. and more than that, i have the memory of what this tower -- this staple of consistency of my life in lubbock-- has personally meant to me.

Hi guy.

From the "ugly" family to mine. The newest addition -- Gogi Garcia... he loves Typography. clearly.

feelings i used to know.

I'll blame the warm weather for my unshakable thoughts of swimming. well, not just swimming -- but swimming in that spring fed river.
...
The other day, a friend told me that she never learned to swim. I recalled my experiences of swimming in the San Marcos river. The years of school in San Marcos afforded me a wealth of knowledge and taught me the value of always having a swimsuit when in the presence of a river!

There is something about that river water that makes my entire body happy. And lately I crave the feeling of the river water all around me. I miss that natural wave in my hair that I have only known after swimming in that river...

Flatout FlatSTOCK

FlatSTOCK! Poster! Convention! proves, yet again, to be one of my favorite events of the entire year. This year, Flatstock 20, was my 4th annual poster convention to attend.
It was quite a sight to see.
And what is more, I found many artists that I have work from participating again this year. It was fun to talk shop with them and say "oh yeah, i have that print that you did last year.. with the birds.." and for them to say "oh! yeah, that was a good one! glad you got that one".

There was even a Lubbock-based design firm exhibiting! FD2
wow. there are "creatives" in Lubbock!

As in years past, the Poster Convention proved to be the creative "recharge" I crave. I could feel the energy from all of the creatives in one room circling around mine. My face hurt from smiling. And I left there on a creative high, ready to get back into the studio and crank out some art! woohoo

See you at Flatstock 21. March 2010

self...

10 years. 10 inches.

... of hair that is.

my sister and I recently donated our hair to Locks of Love, a public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children suffering from long-term medical hair loss.

my sister's decision came quickly -- most likely because she is a very giving and spontaneous person. Mine crept up like a cold. Small and subtle in the beginning and then full blown "get this hair off me".

by the time i arrived at the salon my sister's hair transformation was in full swing. all i could think was ... "you are next". i got all flushed on my chest and my face felt like it was on fire. i think i was sweating. the hair dresser pulled my long hair back into a braid, pulled it away from my nape and began to cut.. well, hack really. she realized that her shears were no match for my massive mane so she called one of the other girls over and said "bring the big shears with you!". gulp.
finally i felt the braid break free from my skull.

relief.

and closure for so many things, so many memories culminated within that 10 inches i carried for at least a decade. and although i feel a bit selfish for believing my own personal relief was the motivation for my hair disconnection -- it made me smile to think that maybe that hair will go on to love someone else as i loved it.
it was hard to see it go. i loved that long hair... and the memories it held.

but now, onto new things, new hair, new memories..