Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Process photos

Yesterday I spent around 7 hours at the Compound Gallery working on my second batch of business cards. The vast majority of the time was spent tediously taping the cards to a board so they won't warp when painted. Anyone who has worked with me at any job or had a studio class with me can testify for my fondness of labor intensive work. I've discovered that anything I figure out how to do myself is always more drawn out/difficult that what most people do. I don't mind that it takes forever or that body parts go numb or start to ache. I just shift, stretch a little and go at it. There's a meditative connection between myself and whatever I am working on. I feel connect with the past, and sometimes a sense of pride that I am continuing a task or tradition that has been outdated by technology and human ingenuity. Plus I stubbornly try to distinguish myself from what my peers might be doing, and usually that means I meticulously make things by hand.

  Taped cards

The materials

The setup, painted cards and paper mounted on wood panel miniatures

( The blue tape is where the emboss will be)

 There are 64 business cards drying right now.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

the blues of business cards

Sometimes I neglect things. I get so distracted by what's happening around me that I forget what I was doing at that moment or why I am even there in the first place. Textures, sounds, colors, juxtapositions- those strange moments where little things ache with poignancy, leave me staring dreamily.  It's just the way I am. So my few dear readers, this is my apology to you. I have been running around experiencing the little worlds of Oakland, scooping ice cream for the never ending line, reading here and there ( Middlesex was fantastic by the way) and basically doing anything that kept me away from any art. Pain and pleasure are measured and experienced by the same neurons in the brain. That's why some things hurt deliciously, or there's that split second where you're not sure if you enjoyed that or not, but you certainly felt it.
Right now, art making hurts. It's not the sensation itself, but the context. Being studio-less leaves me tripping over the little paintings scattered on my bedroom floor and bumping into wood panels tucked into makeshift cubbies.  There's a need but no direction. No projects to fulfill, no classmates, teachers or clients to impress. I have the post-BFA blues.

Is there a cure? Yes, and it's probably along the lines of sucking it up, so that's been the plan. Being stubborn and hard on myself has lead me to tinker with the way I think about my relationship with the world, and the role of my artwork. How can I interact with people about my work within my aesthetic range? What is the most time consuming but minimal way to do this?

Business cards. Hand painted embossed business cards. An individual painting, waiting to be exchanged with a handshake. An impressive but understated gesture.

Hello first test-run cards. You were measured and cut from Arches 140lb cold press cotton paper, and a bit of bristol board just to see what would happen. Tenderly taped and exposing a brief little rectangle you waited to be painted. Then you had to dry overnight. The tape was carefully pulled back, the embosser positioned just so, imprinting my website domain into your blank edge. Hello my pretties.

I don't like to waste materials. A perk of making things yourself is that you can control the amount of waste. The tape from the painting process will be transformed into paintings after I carefully select and position it. It's exciting to have tangible potential. It makes my fingers want to scratch. I'm beginning to crave the sweet hurt of making. 

Friday, April 16, 2010

Business card mock-up

The plan is that every card will be an individual painting with my website embossed on the lower part of the card. Minimal, time consuming and completely my aesthetic.
What do you guys think?