Fresno a Day 1 2 3

WiFi on campus has been pretty spotty in the dorms. And considering all the time I am working on art, attending lectures, and eating cafeteria food, I haven't had a moment of plugged in time to do a proper post. Not the best way to start out my Fresno a Day series, but it will have to do.

Day #1

A lovely hand painted banner was displayed across the dorm buildings. Despite the many frustrations of the day (see previous blog post) the staff and students at FSU are friendly and helpful. They are doing a great job!

Day #2

This day we were given three classrooms to occupy each of us was able to pick out our own space and set up shop for the duration of the program. I chose a cozy little corner near a window that looks out onto a grassy hill with trees. Then I spent the rest of the day building and prepping my canvas. It may not look like much, but this canvas was lovingly constructed, wrapped, primed, sanded, primed, and sanded again by hand. It's a long process but always worth it.

In the evening we attended a lecture by the guest artist Lisa Adams. She spoke of her work, 30+ years of experience, and how she found her voice. It was truly inspirational and incredibly informative.

Day #3
This is almost too painful to post, but it is either this or a photo of the desk I sat in for an intense 3.5 hour lecture on the Business of Art...

This is my grisaille, or underpainting. It essentially is acting as a monochromatic sketch for me to build off of. Only the paint knows how this is going to end.

What’s the story?

The past few days I’ve been going crazy. My professor assigned a narrative painting for our next major project. She gave us only one day between classes to come up with a narrative, sketch, find resource images, and purchase our materials to stretch canvas in class. As you know from my previous entry, I have quite a commute to get any real art supplies … and I work full-time, so that means I can only go in the evenings… and I have children so either they come with me, or I find a babysitter. Not an easy task to complete in such a short period of time.

But it wasn’t the materials that had me so agitated. (Despite the traffic and hassle of going so far out of my way, Utrecht Art Supply in Los Angeles never lets me down.) It was the narrative itself that was weighing heavily on me and affecting everything I did. The point of narrative painting is to tell a story, or at least to hint at one.

One of the most famous artists of this genre is the slice-of-all-American-apple-pie Norman Rockwell. His scenes depicted idealized life in America, each one telling a quaint story with a simple action or expression on the faces of his subjects. Narrative paintings are illustrative and communicative yet the finalized product is intended to be seen hanging on a wall, rather than in print. This is the basic differentiation of Illustration / Communication Arts and Studio / Fine Arts… but I digress.

So what it comes down to is this: What is my story? What am I trying to say as an artist?

I could just create a “slice of life” moment a la Rockwell. Say, a family at dinner or children at play, but I wanted to do something more meaningful. Something personal. Something with teeth.

Some of my biggest art heroes spoke out through their work. Manet used wit to expose and shock the French aristocracy with Olympia. Louise Bourgeois created monstrous sculptures that were representations of struggles in her childhood. Cindy Sherman photographed herself as all the iconic idealized women in art and film to question their place in our culture.

24 hours to have an idea of what I am to paint and what I am trying to say as an artist. I ask, can anyone work like this? In a frenzy of sketches and collages used from my image hoarding… er… collecting I came up with different scenarios for my composition. I worried that this wasn’t really enough to go on, but I had deadlines and my artistic crisis is not an excuse for tardiness.

Franticly I arrive in class with a sketchbook with chicken scratch layouts with pages and scraps of images from my collection and 5 foot stretcher bars under my arms. I made it just in time for the meeting with my professor. After a long discussion with her and sharing my ideas, sketches, and images I have finally come up with a concept. It is something very personal yet vague enough to allow the viewer to create their own story.

In the end, I met the deadline, but it made me wonder… do other artists go through these same struggles? Do we all grapple with finding a way to be true to our artistic selves while still meeting the demands of the professional side of art?

Motherly Musings: Hard Work = Reward

I am about to embark on the biggest adventure (outside of giving birth) of my life. I will be studying abroad this Summer to study French and Art History in the birthplace of many important art and literary movements: Paris.

For those of you who know me, this is a fulfillment of a lifelong dream. I have slowly been working toward my degree in Studio Art, minoring in French Language for many years. It has been a long struggle, and it will continue to be so for many years yet. Working full-time to provide for a family, going to school part-time to achieve my lofty goals, and trying to be the best mother I can be. It's a juggling act, a lot of hats, whatever you want to call it, but at the end of the day, it all defines me as a person. The fuel that keeps me going is my children. I entered into this crazy lifestyle to provide for them and also to be a positive role model. I want them to know that you CAN achieve your dreams. It may be through hard work and dedication, but it can be done. And it will be done.

The only heartbreak about my semester in Paris is that I will be away from my children for 4 weeks. And even worse, I will miss my eldest daughter's birthday. She says she's fine with it because a.) she'll get two parties out of the deal, and b.) Mommy will just have to buy her a present in France. My youngest daughter is going to miss me although right now she's enjoying learning French via CD in my car. Even though she is only 4, she realizes it is not a permanent situation. Daddy, being a touring musician, has been gone for weeks at a time in the past, in which we communicate via video chat. But this is the longest Mom will have ever been away. Despite my insane work and school hours, I am there for my daughters to take them to music lessons, ballet class, birthday parties, etc. I've always strived to be as involved as time permits. Skipping classes to go to awards ceremonies, staying up late to work on my own school work to help my girls out with theirs are all things that I've learned to do. But actually being gone for a month. I know that it won't be easy for any of us, especially me. I am bringing my trusty laptop and utilizing Google video chat to keep that link home while I am in a foreign country. I just hope that is enough.

There is this fear that I have, that when my children are grown they'll say, "Mom was never there." and think of how selfish I was, "Remember when she went off to Paris for a month and missed my birthday?" I hope that they don't view it this way in hindsight and remember historical context. I am going for them as much as I am going for myself. The decision to further my studies abroad was to have an enriching and personally fulfilling experience that will inspire my art, my global perspective, and my sense of being. I also hope to bring back from Paris experiences and lessons to share with my family. Will they remember that in twenty years? I hope so.

I love my husband and children with all my heart, but my heart tells me that this semester abroad is the right thing to do. My heart also tells me that I need to keep moving forward and making myself a better person. I may not be living the typical American motherhood, but I am living my life in a way that shows my children that there is more to life than what you see day to day.

The real lesson is Hard work = Rewards. This is a hard won reward... and actually, the reward in itself is also hard work.

The Archtype

ARTIST

That’s what we are. Hard-working, dedicated folk, who believe that les beaux-arts enrich the soul and broaden the mind.

I’m so tired of the stereotype that artists are romantic and bohemian. Some of us, NAY, most of us work regular jobs during the day and hustle for shows on the evenings and weekends. We keep ridiculous hours to hone our craft, market ourselves, and strive to be better artisans. We do thankless, oftentimes free, gigs for exposure and experience, to pay our dues and climb our way to the highest peaks of the highly unstable art volcano.

We may seem a little quirky, heck, we may even seem downright alien, but many of us have families, homes, multiple jobs, and school.

Artists work hard.