This morning I had a studio visit with the AIR (artist in residence).  All weekend my stomach was in knots and I was panicing about what I was going to show or say.  I was hoping to be able to communicate that I’m in the studio a lot, what I’ve been pondering about lately, the connection between nature and humanity, and what the fuck I’m doing here.  I spend several hours waxing on what books and essays I was going to quote, the order of pieces I was going to show, etc but (as always) this mountain of prep work did me little good.

Heather came in early and caught me off guard while I was painting a wall.  Just replace me with a deer in headlights here.  In hindsight though, this was great.  I had to think on my toes a bit and stole the control that I so desperately wanted.  The conversation was great.  We jumped around between nature vs. humanity, free will vs. hard wiring, the cell and home, and peoples’ need to modify themselves.  All wonderful subjects that I find electrifying but am having issues with connecting to my studio practice.  Sadly, my love and obsession for research and investigation does not naturally hook up with my studio work.  But now, now I have a game play.  Sort of.  Well, first off I’m going to finish a cut cellophane wall piece so it can be seen by the visiting artist this week and be ready for my crit on the 17th.  Then I’m going to find an old card catalog.  I’m going to start cataloging my thoughts in the way that my mind’s eye does.  (I also REALLY like index cards.)

I don’t know why I was so stressed about the visit.  Heather isn’t scary at all.  She is honest which can be scary but I need honest.

(She also told me that I was doing a good job and was right on track which is something I really needed to hear.)

So I’ve just had my first grad school crit.  I wasn’t torn down like my nightmares, nor was I told that I was the best flipping artist out there and to shed my glorious light of knowledge upon the world.  It was actually painless but boring.  I was told a lot of … stuff… that went in one ear into my notebook and quickly forgotten.  I’m sitting here in front of my piece actually trying to figure out what the fuck just happened and where to go now.

So the piece that I installed for the crit was a (in less glamorous terms) a faux wall that was stuffed with LEDs that I drilled holes into and filled with glass test tubes.  The test tubes were partially filled with 1mm glass beads and arranged like star burst or mould growth.

Don’t ask me what it is/was about because I really don’t know.  I mean there was a time that it was about my OCD and repetition of form/materials/studio practice but now I don’t know.  The piece fell flat on its face while trying to chase the ice cream truck.

Some of the good things about it though was that it forced me to do something VERY different from what I normally do.  Some of the bad things is that it was still born, fell flat, and didn’t take a stand on anything.  I knew all these things the moment the piece was finished but I didn’t have much choice with the crit since I finished it Saturday night and it needed to be done by Sunday afternoon for review.

It was a good try at least… maybe.  I know that I can do better.  I just have to figure out what I need to say to the viewer which is really hard since I don’t like tolding to strangers.

So I’ve been at Cranbrook for a little over a month now and the hype of “HOLY COW I MADE IT IN!” is wearing thin.  I think I had really high repectations.  That I would walk in and be told how to make my art better.  I know that I am not paying for that, but fuck a girl can dream.  I’m still totally geeked to be here, I’m just feeling really lost.

Howdy!

WordPress just has the word “howdy” written in bold letters on my homepage and I thought that it was so very very friendly.  It kind of gave me the warm and fuzzies and yet it was a unexciting word, in an unexciting font, and bold (which normally I find aggressive).  I liked it, I think the first person I see is going to get a big old Howdy greeting. 

I’m officially moved into the new place!  After 3 weeks all the boxes are unpacked, curtains made and hung, furniture bought and placed, and internet  set up.  As much as I hate moving and having to adjust to a new and strange location, Birmingham Michigan, it was fun.  It was a lot like camping for the first week and I realized how much stuff I have and I really don’t need and how bloody efficient Tim is with his stuff.  I need to start throwing things away like a man.  Books I haven’t read in years, toss them.  Childhood report cards, toss them.  Silly candy wrappers that I wanted to save for the design of them, toss them!  It would make packing and unpacking so much easier and so much faster!  That and I would have so much space, not that the apartment is cramped or anything but 80% of the stuff here is mine.  I really do need to start throwing things away like a man.

Getting married is huge, exciting, and nerve racking. Of late I’ve been worried about my up coming wedding and trying to come up with reasons that it might not work. I have to constantly remind myself that I’m a bit masochistic and that my anxiety is normal. From talking to Tim last night on this very subject we might have come to a mutual meeting of the minds, which I think is pretty damn cool and a wonderful sign.

Getting married is one the largest identity changing events in a person’s life that I know 100% I’m going to experience. I’ve worked very hard to somewhat know who I am, what I stand for, and why I’m here and marriage is going to throw this all for a loop. The idea that I’m not longer going to be Kris the sarcastic artist and that I’m transforming into Ms. Timothy Ebeling the wife that is also an artist is scary. I’m going to have more responsibilities and more stereotypes pushed upon me (like my mother asking when she will have some grand-babies… don’t get me started). Besides all that the program that I’m entering for my MFA does not seem to be marriage friendly. I want Tim to understand that I’m working for our future, but that right now I’m going to be no fun, working late, and sometimes not coming home from the studio. I know that he will support me in whatever I do, he really is great, I just don’t want him to lose faith in me if I’m spending more time with my work than with my husband. Oh the joys of wedding anxieties…

I have issues with making promises.  They seem so heavy and big and scary.  Like a weight over your head that if you don’t complete the promise the weight will fall and crush you.  I have promised ex boyfriends that we’ll stay friends but that has never happened.  I promised myself that I’m going to start exercising more since I bought a Wii fit… which lasted about 3 months.  I promised myself that I would kept up the blog for sanity… you can see how that is going.  Why is it about promises are so very hard to maintain and keep?  It makes me worried that I’ve promised Tim that I’m going to marry him and that we’ll stay together for the rest of our lives.  Please don’t misunderstand, I love him I’m just afraid that I have more issues with promises than I know of.

So I’ve been in wedding planning mode for awhile now but I’m finally making up my mind. I’ve got my katamari and I’m rollin’! Tim and I are working together (woot!) and have picked the location, style, colors (okay I picked the colors), and date. Besides that, I have my dress picked out and paid for. It should be here in Oct. so that still leaves lots of time for alterations. Luckily the dress right off the rack fit me like a glove but I need to lose the train and shorten the hemline. Which sadly gives me another headache… where the hell does one find a ballerina length crinoline with a cinched waist and medium fullness. I never thought that I would know this much about crinoline terminology.

That’s right, I ::heart:: buying gas now.  Not that I love to spend money but that now with the scooter it is a whopping 3 to 4 dollars to fill my tank.  Now if I’ve done my math correctly that completely beats the pants off filling up my old car (a 1996 Honda Accord) which ranged between 30 and 45 dollars to completely fill up (it all really depended on how long I was driving on E).  Now when I have to go to the gas station I see everyone one there looking so grumpy as the numbers just keep going up up up, but I’m in and out of there in less then 5 minutes and still enough money in my pocket to buy an ice cream on the way home.  Oh man, the scooter is equaling a huge win.  Not only is it great on the wallet but how the hell can someone be sad when driving one!  Moving up to Michigan, go ride the scooter.  Trying to find a job up in Michigan, go ride the scooter.  Wanting ice cream even though your lactose intolerant, go ride the scooter and still get an ice cream for the way home!