depere art walk & art in the (voyager) park

friendly reminder #1:  the depere art walk is tonight from 5-8, and i’ll be at politos pizza:  ART AND PIZZA FOR ALL! \o/

friendly reminder #2:  art in the park (in voyager park in depere) is tomorrow from 10-3.  ART FAIR!

friendly reminder #3:  I HAVE NEW BUTTONS DESIGNS AND NEW PAINTINGS.  honestly, the buttons are getting out of hand.

friendly reminder #4:  kitsune kon is coming in a couple of weeks.  i’m going to have new posters for it.

and, finally, a continual question:  what do y’all who do the con-thing do with your once-exclusive leftovers?  do y’all just SALE them or what?  (i might have a lot of leftovers of some things that i’m just ???? WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE THINGS????)

courage.

a little end-of-the-year round-up

with a little bit of holiday bonus! \o/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/triesquid/22948325343/in/datetaken-public/

okay, sorta.

*hands*

ugh, failwhale

okay, so, here’s the thing–i’ve been making videos and making (slowly) art and doing things, and because work and brain space and the general suckage which is a body that doesn’t work the way that i want it to, i haven’t been getting things posted the way i really, really want to:  not here, not patreon, not youtube, not redbubble–nowhere.

it’s very frustrating, so this is gonna be a kind big post.

museum trips and other things

so, one of the newer things that we’re doing at The Rainbow Hub is that we’re covering ballets, operas, and art shows.

which means that i get paid to go to art shows now.

we’re also starting to do kinda features on artists, and i’m writing the first of the visual artist profile this week. \o/

(NB:  if you’re a visual artist or know a visual artist, send them my way, yeah?  i mean, we’re really trying to feature young, emerging, and/or unknown artists because–dammit–artists need more exposure.)

Words of reason from Brian Eno: not art but triggers for experiences.

In this article about Brian Eno on art, Eno said that we should

Stop thinking about art works as objects, and start thinking about them as triggers for experiences. (Roy Ascott’s phrase.) That solves a lot of problems: we don’t have to argue whether photographs are art, or whether performances are art, or whether Carl Andre’s bricks or Andrew Serranos’s piss or Little Richard’s ‘Long Tall Sally’ are art, because we say, ‘Art is something that happens, a process, not a quality, and all sorts of things can make it happen.’ … [W]hat makes a work of art ‘good’ for you is not something that is already ‘inside’ it, but something that happens inside you — so the value of the work lies in the degree to which it can help you have the kind of experience that you call art.

I like this.  Triggers of experience is really what most of us are trying to do, and I think there’s an argument to be made that this what conceptual art is at it’s most basic:  experience, memory, thinking, connection.

I also think that this definition really allows for those grey places between art and craft and artisan.

…I still need someone to explain how the watercolor paintings of pretty ducks counts as art, but viewed through this lens, I can see how someone might have an experience trigger with it.

Unfortunately, because of this definition of art-as-experience-trigger, it’s easy to fall back into the outmoded “I know what I like./I know art when I see it, and that’s not it./My kid could do that.” mentality because this lens leaves out the critical thinking (and the encouragement of critical thinking) that’s inherent in art.

So, there’s that.

And I’ve made myself sad.

Like ya do.

So, yes, I may have mentioned that I started doing some freelance writing?

Well, if y’all are interested in that sorta thing, I’m writing for The Rainbow Hub as Trie.

Here are my articles thus far (NB:  My articles usually come out on Tuesday, but if I write two for the week, the second comes out on Wednesday.):

• “There’s a glitch.”: A Review of Iron Man 3;
• “Remember who we once were and who we must become again.”: A Review of Star Trek Into Darkness;
• “I’ve got red on my ledger.”: Black Widow in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Can y’all tell that I still title things like I’m in academia?

So, I’ve been making bookmaking demos for my friend bloo, and yeah, I think they’re kinda horrible, but she seems to be enjoying them.

Maybe y’all will too?

insta-books

3-hole pamphlets

Soooooooooo, I mentioned Definitely DePere (which, by-the-by, I will be at June and July also).

tentacle-made studios’ display at the May Definitely DePere.

Crinoline Vortex (unplugged!) at Definitely DePere…basically lazing about my display.  He does this a lot.

IDEK, what I’m doing this week.  I think I’m trying to finish catching y’all up, but largely, I’m just kinda blah and meh.  I’ve got emails to respond to and research to do for my next article (re:  reading Black Widow comic books) and finishing processing photos from the Supernatural cosplay that I shot for some of my friends.

I’ve totally got more things to show y’all, but this post is getting way long…and I really should be in my studio working on things and trying to sort out Life, The Universe, and Everything, but TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY!

Courage.

loads to talk about

So, after last week’s lack-lustre post, this last week (and up-coming week) has been all sorts of full with craziness:  there was Kara Cournard‘s 101 Women Project opening at the Art Garage, there’s Gallery Night coming up on Thursday (have I mentioned that I’m demoing insta-books at the shindig?), there were Seattle Edition in-law visits, there’s an Art Garage fundraiser at Barnes and Noble Saturday as well as the Faerie Festival at Thistledown Greenhouse and the first day of the Shawano Farmer’s Market.

 

Wow, can I have a few more links in there?  *considers*  I could, but I’ll save y’all’s eyes.  Just this once.

 

The 101 Women Project was fantastic and rowdy and loud and all-and-all nifty.  I met a whole bunch of people from the Green Bay Art Scene (I still think that we need to have some sort of monthly get-together in order to be drunken and talk about art), and they are a nice bunch of people.  There’s even a lovely Green Bay Council Person who attended the shindig and is endeavoring to preserve and help to grow the Green Bay Art Scene.

 

I had a really good time even though I was technically doing that faux-work thing and was having the “I’m so painfully shy that I think I’ll just hide beneath the counter for the evening.  Thanks.” day.  Towards the end, I managed to chat and network a bit and be a charming squid.

 

Also, as y’all might or might not know, I now have a studio at the Art Garage, but I’m the Art Garage’s Featured Studio Artist for June (so I had a third wall to fill in addition to my gallery wall and my studio wall–there were a lot of inventory sheets to fill out).

 

 

 

*POINTS*  See!  That’s me!  In the front gallery and everything!  It’s very exciting.  Additionally, I have a section of wall in the main gallery that I currently have my most recent color field diptych up on.

 

 

 
I’ve been having a color field thing since moving to Wisconsin; I think it has something to do with color saturation here. It’s really phenomenal.

 

This particular color field piece is on display at the Art Garage in Green Bay at the moment. The idea for it came from a tv series I used to watch in the 90s called Beyond Reality. In this episode, an artist keeps painting bits and pieces of a monster that lives in his mind and that is attempting to come into being. In this diptych, I have portrayed a calmer, less demonic creature in an abstracted form with only an “eye” really recognizable as anything, possibly.

 

And my tAG studio is wonderfully cracktastic.  Full-to-bursting, quixotic, and whimsical–just like me.

 

 

 

So, yeah, that’s what’s been going on in my crazy artist life, and an explanation as to why I haven’t gotten the Project Sheets up to share.  *hands*

 

Remember, if y’all are in the Green Bay area on Thursday, come on down to the Art Garage for Gallery Night, and watch me confuse people with insta-books!

 

Courage.

*languishes*/ETA *squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*

***Wordpress is still not spacing correctly.  *FLAILS*  Mad squid is mad.***

     I’m waiting to hear about The Art Garage competition I entered.  I haven’t heard anything yet.

     *is jittery and crazy to know*

ETA:  I just got the call that my both of my pieces were accepted! *EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*

     Totally compounded by the fact that I now volunteer there.  Talk about a conflict of interests.  <–I was told it wasn’t, but y’all know me, I can’t help but be a worry-wart.

     So, I had promised that I was going to post pictures of the sculptures that I entered.  I was waiting until today because–I don’t know–it seemed appropriate to wait until the competition is over?  Does that even make sense?

     So, my (not-so) little friends.

     The prompt for the show was–

Seeking works of art in all media that focus on personal memories and the essence of our past. Artwork will need to be created with some recycled materials in order to promote the importance of being environmentally responsible.

     And the application asked for–

A brief artist statement must be submitted with the images explaining what inspired this piece of artwork and what recycled materials were used.

     So, my first piece is unnamed friends:  from the 100 acre wood, and it is, basically, a tree stump (yes, there is a joke in here about my nickname being ‘Trie [tree]).

     This thing was crazy to make and is freaking huge.  It’s about 4 feet tall, hand built (and sewn) from brown paper grocery bags (building a tree from dead trees makes sense to me), has a felt face with buttons, and has crocheted accents and a cardboard interior frame.

     It took a really long time to build.

     The other piece is also quite large.

     Okay, it’s huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge too.  Nearly 4 feet again.

     I keep making things that are nearly the size of me. o.O

     The second piece is unnamed friends:  narwhal, and it is built from old coats that were purchased from the local Goodwill.

     Again with the “it took forever to build.”  Considering I hand-sew everything, that makes sense, but then again, I wouldn’t get the same fluidity and–yes, I’ll admit it–awkwardness if I didn’t hand-sew.

     The artist statement for these pieces was–

The inspiration for unnamed friends:  from the 100 acre wood and unnamed friends:  narwhal comes from a combination of kawaii culture, children’s storybook narratives like Winnie the Pooh, and memories of my own most beloved toys.  The scale of the sculptures, in relationship to an adult, evokes the feeling of childhood where everything feels large and strange—even one’s toys.  The materials, even though they are primarily recycled, gesture to those parts of childhood that are recycled from others:  clothes that have been handed down, toys that have been inherited or made from old clothes, and books that belonged to older siblings.

The recycled materials in unnamed friends:  from the 100 acre wood include brown paper grocery bags, cardboard from a shipping container (ironically from Dick Blick), and felt inherited from another artist.  The recycled materials in unnamed friends:  narwhal include a leather coat and a suede-and-faux-fur coat from Goodwill.

     So, those are my friends.  They took weeks and are taking up huge amounts of real estate in my current studio, but they are so freaking cool.

     I shall sleep the sleep of the accomplished tonight. \o/

An ode to the perfect studio–

It’s bigger than a bread box–wait, that’s most things.

It can jump over tall buildings in a single bound.  <–That’s Superman.  *voice over* No copyright infringement is intended.  Al rights remain with the creators of Superman.

It stays minty fresh all day long.  Or was that gum?  Or toothpaste?

Oh, as they say, well.  It’s the perfect studio.

The Husband and I have been searching for a more permanent place to take up residence in the wilds of Wisconsin, and we are all lease sign-y and move in on May 1st.

*dancing blue elephants and confetti and cabbages*

The best part is not the new place to live, but what the new place has that I have never had before:  a garage.  “What’s so great about a garage, squid?”  I hear you asking yourselves.

*points*  Yeah, you in the back;  I heard you.

What’s so great about this garage is  that it is heated, finished, huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge, and *pause for dramatic effect* it has a drain.  In the floor.  That means that I can make paper all.  Year.  Long!

Did I mention it was huge?

Now, let me tell y’all.  I have never had a studio that wasn’t tiny and/or unheated.  Which sucks.  Out loud.

Let me show you pictures of my previous (and current) studios.

To the right, there, is the studio I had in DeKalb.  It was an enclosed front porch.  Had no heat.  No air.  No storage.  No space to change my tiny squid mind.

And cluttered.  Very cluttered.

So not a good thing.

It did have really good light though.

Now, my current studio is in one of the extra bedrooms.  It is tiny, tiny, tiny–like a sneeze tiny.  It has magically craptastic light.  Even less storage, if that’s possible.  (The low drawers behind my stool are holding, mostly, clothes.)

It’s saving grace?  There is heat in it.  I am never a cold squid–sometimes, I’m a bit too warm because I get over-zealous with the space heater, but that’s not the room’s fault.

But, y’all can see how small it is.  This picture was taken from the door to the studio.  It is also where my Mac laptop is housed and my printer because it was really the only place that would work.

There’s also a big old chunk of the room I can’t use because it’s being used as storage for stuff that the Husband moved in when he first moved up here.

Other pictures of the studio–

All of the boat stuff is so not my idea of a good time, but it’s a furnished/decorated place by a lake.  What can I really expect?

So, yeah, that’s what my current studio looks like.  Soon–oh so soon!–there will be my magnificent, beautiful studio!

*looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooongs for it*

Also, WordPress is stupid and not spacing this post remotely in the way that it has been told to.  *is really mad*

Nothing to see here. Move along.

The last couple of days have been kind of an odd.

 

I stayed up extremely late (like 5 AM) last night because I had more of my unnamed friends decided that they had to escape from my head at that particular moment.

 

Pushy buggers.

 

(They haven’t been photographed yet.  My little revenge.  *cue mad scientist laughter*)

 

Therefore, productive =/=me today.

 

So sue me.

 

Also, yesterday, I did some updating of the images section of the blog.  It’s not remotely done yet, but there are a few things with connected concept.  Always a bonus.

 

Yamato Sakura

 

But!  I would like to share with y’all today one of my favorite artists of all time:  Aya Kato.  <–Why, yes, that is a Facebook page. \o/

 

Little Red Riding Hood: Encounter

Aya is a Japanese artist–arguably a superflat artist, but not because of the critical looking at consumerism or at sexual fetishism (although, some of her pieces definitely seem to have a fetishistic element to them).  I would consider Aya a superflat artist due to the way that she literally flattens surfaces to create depth and shallowness at the same time while combining traditional Japanese art (remember, manga has been around in Japan since the Edo period, and all Japanese superflat art inherently will connect back to that historical moment whether it wants to or not) with modern technology.  Darling (2001) writes in “Plumbing the depths of superflatness” that

 

“Yet in spite of its almost self-deprecating etymology, “Superflat” is far from unnuanced or superficial and has cracked open the discourse about contemporary Japanese culture and society. Its reverberations are now starting to be felt in Western cultural circles. Like a Japanese transformer toy, it has the capacity to move and bend to engage a wide range of issues: from proposing formal historical connections between classic Japanese art and the anime cartoons of today to a Pop Art-like cross-contamination of high and low to a social critique of contemporary mores and motivations. As such, “Superflat” requires exami nation from a number of different angles in order to be fully appreciated and understood, and the best place to start is with Murakami himself.”

 

New Japan: Learn a Lesson from the Past

Cinderella: Metamorphosis

 

If we look at Aya’s art, cultural contamination is everywhere from the meta-narrative ofher fairytale pieces to the highly conceptual constructions of her cityscapes.  The longing for childhood combats with sexual knowledge.  The traditional (and not-so-traditional) East confronts the West.

 

And, it’s all wrapped up in a candy colored awesomeness.

 

Puss in Boots

I think the only complaint I have is that, because she is so prolific, Aya culls some of the work from her online portfolio, and my favorite piece–Uma:  Puss in Boots–was taked down.  But!  I am a bad and stalkery internet denizen, and I have a copy of it from when it was still up.  <–I am very, very bad.