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. 

1 comment:

  1. These are gorgeous. Really amazing, in idea and execution. <3