Anyone who’s been reading my blog for a while knows by now that discipline is not one of my strong suits. Just when it seems I’m on a roll, something happens and I stop blogging.

Now that school is over, you would think that I’d be spending 12 hours a day making art. It hasn’t happened that way. I’ve had a very steady stream of design projects to do, which is good, because there will be some huge bills coming up very soon. When I can’t stand being on the computer for a single second longer, I’ve gone into the studio for a while to do some mindless, repetitive tasks like stitching leftover scraps together, some busywork I do when I don’t have any specific artwork in process. It’s part of the process of creating the larger textile pieces; it primes the pump, so to speak.

Now that school is over, I also have a lot more time to think and to pay attention to what’s going on, to listen to the radio & podcasts of news, and that has me kind of stymied over what I should really be doing right now. How can I just continue on with my happy little life, making art in my studio without a care in the world, when there is so much going on right now that is deeply, profoundly screwed up;  when I along with all other Americans bear a responsibility for much of it?

This was supposed to be a blog about art, but it seems so self-absorbed to write about my piddling little painting issues when a volcano of oil is spewing into the Gulf of Mexico, when animals are being choked or cooked alive by oil, when a unique and fragile ecosystem and livelihoods are being destroyed, but all people care about is the value of their pension funds. When around the world thousands of children die every day from a lack of clean water, while we waste untold millions of gallons of it keeping our lawns emerald green. When the American dream of a good job and security and a future for our children is disappearing before our very eyes. When all of our politicians are bought and paid for, corporations run our government and our media, and our so-called “free market” and “globalization” policies over many years have destroyed cultures and economies worldwide. But don’t worry America, just keep watching Fox News and be sure you know who’s winning on Idol; just keep taking your anti-depressants and buying your bottled water; none of this should matter to you as long as you can keep buying smartphones and big-screen TVs and gas for your car.

OK, I don’t know if I have that completely out of my system, but hopefully we will now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

The managing director of Fedex wants to give me a special massage! With the help of the almighty Yahweh, no less. And he wants me to pass the massage to other victims like mine. Cool!

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Attn please, you might see this massage in your junk or your spam doe to low connection in our company today, so please ignore that, it does not sent by the scammers.

This is a massage from FedEx Courier Company Benin Republic {Zone 2} Port novo the Country capital. This is to bring to your notice that ATM Card that bears this tracking numbers: {FDX-Bn-RP 9645283} on it protected box which contains the sum of USD $450,000 has been deposited to our security keeping department since last Monday 19th April 2010, but due to little minor crises that been occurred in our company, we couldn’t be able to inform you of this massage.

But with the help of the almighty Yahweh, the whole matters has been dissolved, we thanks him for that special work he has done in our company. So my dear, we are sincerely apologized for the delayed information. Please you should know that the solid protector VIP box has been made solidly to avoid criminals or scammers to act illegally act during the delivery of the VIP box.

(etc. etc. etc.)

Note that Billions of dollars has been mapped out for over 342,000 victims allover the world that will going to recieve this ATM Master cards that will take place any moment from now and stop on 22nd December 2010. plaese bear this in mine that any family or organization that receive this massage must have been dumped in any way or the other, if not you, it may be your relations. So do not be surprise if you receive this massage. Warning!!!! Do not expose your own tracking numbers in the publics; till you get the Card then you can cheer the Testimony with your Colleagues. Please help us pass this massage to other victims like yours .

Several weeks ago, I posted Part I of an assignment for my Painting V class, a written response to a particular book, in my case Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking by David Bayles & Ted Orland. The book is divided into two sections, which was convenient for the 2-part assignment.

Response paper – Art & Fear, Part II

By the time you get to part II of the book, you’ve become familiar with the book’s rhythm of bad news, good news. It’s a comforting seesaw going back and forth, first saying here’s a problem, but then don’t despair, here’s how you can deal with it.

Chapter VI, “A View Into the Outside World,” begins with all of the other things one must worry about in addition to the relatively simple matter of just making the art. One of the biggest is the way the work will be received by the outside world. People in general are fearful of anything that goes against the status quo, and stories of moral outrage or other negative feedback often result in artists’ self-censoring out of survival instinct. Along with this, there’s the problem of getting others to be interested in and to accept your work. The so-called “art world” has its predefined standards, and gaining acceptance in this world can be tricky. Without some level of ability to play the game, an artist has little hope of success in this world.

This chapter also raises the sticky subject of competition. Human nature being what it is, artists are also instinctively inclined toward competing with other artists. This inclination, if not kept in check, can get out of control. Competition can have positive consequences; for instance, if it drives an artist  to create work at a very high level, to make one’s best work at all times. But the downfall here lies in determining what one’s best work is. We may rely on the outside world to tell us. The danger here is that you might just make work that you know will gain easy acceptance and thus avoid challenging yourself. In my own experience, I often find that the work I think is my strongest is greeted with a big yawn by others, while some that I think is less than stellar gets very positive responses. It’s a battle to keep myself true to my own vision and resist using certain combinations of colors or visual devices just because I know people have reacted positively to these things in my past work.

“Navigating the System” deals with the subject of commissions and the necessity of making art that can produce monetary returns. If you’re not fortunate enough to be completely independent of the need to make money from your art, then you probably have to make some concessions to complete freedom of self-expression. You have to figure out how to strike a balance between making work for others and making work for yourself, and which is more important to your survival. For me, making commissions has been a good and bad proposition. When I’ve been constrained to colors I’m not used to working with, it feels unfamiliar and forced. And even when there’s complete creative freedom, there’s also the anxiety of wondering whether the end product will be accepted by the client. The rewards, both financial as well as in the form of exposure, have so far been worth it. I won’t seek a commission, but if requested, I’ll give it a try if I feel I can work within the parameters given and also if I feel a good rapport with the client.

Chapter VII, “The Academic World,” discusses issues related to learning about art in school, from the viewpoint of both student and teacher. The discussion of the problems faced by an artist who decides to teach sound so formidable, I can’t imagine myself ever wanting to do it. But following the bad news–good news cycle, there’s the reminder that in spite of the soul-killing administrative requirements and lack of time artist-educators have to create their own art, there is the very fulfilling prospect of nurturing and learning from new artists and their fresh perspectives on life. For me, this has been one of the most rewarding aspects of being a student as well: mingling with other creative people and being inspired by their ingenuity and generosity.

Next, the authors discuss how books fit into the artist’s life. Besides technique and history, one of the most valuable aspects of reading about other artists is gaining “courage-by-association” (90). The more experience I have under my own belt, the more I enjoy reading about other artists and their processes, their fears and triumphs, and just simply their approaches to observation and life in general. Wisdom, insight, passion, logic, and introspection: all great things to be gained from reading the words of other artists. “Every artist could write such a book. You could write such a book” (92). Maybe I will!

Chapter VIII, “Conceptual Worlds,” is the seminal chapter of the book. Everything else rides on these three questions to be asked when viewing the work of any artist, as first proposed by Henry James: “What was the artist trying to achieve?”  “Did he/she succeed?” And “Was it worth it?” (93). These words really resonated with me.  I hadn’t thought to ask anything like this about my own work, but if I were to go back and do this with certain pieces now, I can see that these questions hold the key to understanding why I’m just not that excited about some of them. “Art that falls short often does so not because the artist failed to meet the challenge, but because there was never a challenge there in the first place.” Using the analogy of an Olympic dive, the authors stress that you get more points for degree of difficulty than for perfection. Technical perfection, while commendable and valuable, can also become a trap. Yes, you can keep doing the easy thing, that thing which resonated at the time, and seemed so fulfilling. But if you don’t challenge yourself to go beyond that, you don’t grow as an artist.

This chapter also contains the best explanation I’ve ever seen on the difference between art and craft, a question of vital interest to me. Using the Mona Lisa as an example, the authors ask: “Is this art?”  Probably supposing that no one would deny it, they next ask, “What about an undetectably perfect copy of the Mona Lisa?” (97). The point is that art vs. craft is a question that must be considered not in isolation for an individual piece, but in the context of multiple works by one person. The art aspect is achieved when there is a conceptual leap from one piece to the next. “There’s a greater conceptual jump from one work of art to the next than from one work of craft to the next” (98). To me, this means that even though the techniques might be the same, someone is making craft if the end products are the same or very similar, and it’s art if each piece is unique in a substantial way. The artist must be vigilant to keep pushing this difference as his or her career matures, to be sure the work “continually generates new and unresolved issues.”  The key difference between art and craft is not the tools but the ideas. “For the artisan, craft is an end in itself. For you, the artist, craft is the vehicle for expressing your vision” (98).

The book concludes with the assertion that in art (as in most of life), there are no reassuringly concrete answers to tell us how to get along on the journey. But you can find your way by asking the right questions. Each artist finds his or her own way through observation, working, and associations with other artists and activities, but in the end the thing that matters is making the work. If the artist doesn’t find a way to proceed, then that’s the end of his or her art-making. There is no single set of instructions that works for everyone. “The individual recipe any artist finds for proceeding belongs to that artist alone — it’s non-transferable and of little use to others” (117). If I choose to continue to make art, I face a lot of uncertainties, but as the authors conclude, “Curiously, uncertainty is the comforting choice” (118).

Heading north on I-25, near Wagon Mound, New Mexico. ©2009 Deidre Adams.

“Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.”
—John Lennon

I’ve always loved this quote. It just seems so appropriate most of the time. We like to think of life as a journey, but for me it’s really more just a lot of lurching from one thing to another, dealing with whatever seems most pressing at the moment. I’m no different from an ant or a bumblebee.

I was going along great with my France postings and had my school assignments and most things in my life under control, when a sudden family emergency meant I had to take a trip down to Albuquerque to deal with some stuff. Things there remain unresolved, so I’m back home waiting to see what happens next.

Now that I’m back, I have a lot of things to catch up on and write about, but my France trip just doesn’t seem so timely any more. I’ll get back to posting some about what I’ve been up to lately, but I just wanted to take a brief moment and try to account for the break in continuity here.

The class collected iris, both fresh and dried, cattail leaves and catkins (I had to look up the word!), and a big bag of corn husks from the grocery store. I contributed a load of dried daylily leaves that I had used to store some bulbs in the basement last winter. Since I already have a large quantity of soda ash from my fabric dyeing days, I volunteered to do some cooking.

It’s best to do this outside if possible. After first experimenting with a hot plate, we found the most efficient way to get the necessary heat was on the gas burner of our propane grill. These are the cooked iris and daylily fibers, above. The iris, since it was green, took only a little over an hour to cook, while the dried daylily leaves took over 3 hours.

After that, it’s tons of rinsing to get rid of all the soda ash plus the non-cellulose materials that have cooked out of the fiber. My husband, who is incredibly supportive of all my crazy art schemes, helped me with this, and models the iris during the rinsing process, above. The color started out looking very much like asparagus. I hoped it would stay that way for the paper, but sadly, it faded to pastel. I felt really bad about all the water we used for rinsing, but at least we did most of it on the grass.

After cooking and rinsing comes beating. Some of this was done with the Hollander beater, some with blenders, but a great deal of it was done by hand with baseball bats, various mallets, and meat tenderizers. (This photo was taken by Carrol Reeves, my friend from class, who became our unofficial photographer.) The hand beating took many hours, and everyone participated in it at some point. To test for doneness, you take a pinch from a couple of different areas of your pile, put them in a jar with a lot of water, and shake it up. When all the fibers move freely without clumping, it’s done and ready to be made into paper.

<tangent alert>
Since taking this class, I’ve got my own opinion now that the terms “art quilter” and “fiber artist” are in no way synonymous. In quilting and textile work, artists are dealing pretty much only with fabrics and threads which have already been manufactured in a mill or factory somewhere else. In papermaking, we are dealing with fibers on a much lower level, working with the raw plant material in some cases, processing the fibers from scratch into a material that can then be made into art. I think that unless I start incorporating “fibers” other than fabric and thread into my work, it is not appropriate to call myself a “fiber artist.” I welcome your thoughts on this topic.
</tangent>

Detour, 39 x 39 inches, ©2008 Deidre Adams

Detour is one of my pieces to be included in 12 Voices, a SAQA-sponsored exhibition which will open at the Dennos Museum Center in Traverse City, Michigan, on Sept. 3, and travel for a year afterward. I feel quite honored to be included in this show. Jurying was done by portfolio, and there were 128 entries from around the world. Juror Penny McMorris said, “12 Voices is a welcome departure from the usual survey shows which sample trends. It offers a rare, in-depth look at twelve of the best quilt artists working today.”

I’ve never been very good at the horn-tooting thing, but I’m pretty excited about this show. I’m in some very good company, with fellow artists Teresa Barkley, Elizabeth Busch, Linda Colsh, Judith Content, Angela Moll, Clare Plug, Joan Schulze, Merle Axelrad Serlin, Susan Shie, Ginny Smith, and Kathy Weaver.

School is finally over for the semester, yay! But I still have lots to do before I can fully get my focus back into the studio — I have a couple of big design projects that I need to finish up. But just between you and me, I did sneak a couple of artmaking hours in last Wednesday, the first day after finals. I just had to, for my sanity. That Understanding Visual Language exam was painful!

Between the Lines, 60 x 26 inches (each of two), © 2007

I’m getting down to the wire in the semester; only 4 more weeks to go. But that does mean the due dates are stacking up quickly. I have to come up with a design for a “social issues” poster by tomorrow, as well as finish writing an 8-page paper which examines a work of art from a “theoretical/critical” perspective (as opposed to historical), and get more footage and editing done for my next video rough cut, all within the next couple of days.

My blogging time will be severely limited for a while. But I know my habits, and I know if I let this go for too long, it will be really easy to just blow it off altogether – kind of the way I’ve been known to let other things (exercise, filing, etc.) go in the past. The only way to discipline myself is to keep up the momentum and not backslide.

So, what I’ll do is just put up some brief posts about past work, because obviously I’m not making much new right at the moment. The above piece was finished and installed at the Louisville Library last October. It’s a diptych, but the two halves were installed on either side of a big window in one of the library’s study rooms. This piece was something that really did push me forward into deciding to start a blog, because when it was done, I wanted to publicize it, but I don’t have a quick and easy way to incorporate new things into my web site at the moment. The blog is also great because you can give some background info, instead of being limited to just a caption.

One other side note – the watermark with my name was done with Adobe Lightroom, a new toy I purchased a while back but haven’t had time to delve into very deeply just yet. What I’ve been using it for so far is to get all my images cataloged so I can find things easily. It has a super-easy export feature, which is where the watermark comes in. Now I need to figure out if I can make it a bit smaller – this looks a little more aggressive than I would like.