Artist of Heroic Plentitude
ongoing creative practice inspired by Phyllida Barlow and Joan Mitchell
My practice is sometimes my art practice. Other times it is practicing how to take care of my spirit and body. How to age gracefully. How to be a good friend, an anti-racist, and advocate for equality and change. Most recently, I have been practicing how to step into a complex dystopian future without losing my heart or mind.
My art practice is me being my best self, it is an embodied practice of creating in order to engage with everything else. I shape shift to tumble and bounce between printmaking, drawing, stitching and writing. Daily experiments respond to materials at hand and the time available. It is an equation, a response, a recipe and a map unique to me that I am still actively deciphering.
The professional field might identify my practice as emerging and although one day I might emerge, I no longer linger over the meaning and mechanics. What I do recognize is that one singular day will become a multiple of steps, breaths and drawn lines that remain solidly adjacent to the profession of artist and that day will never end. The structures and intent behind professional nomenclature is no longer found within my pages of recommended operating protocols.
I have learned that I am not alone in my experience of identifying as an artist and considering myself professional while being adjacent to formal pathways and exhibition spaces. Phyllida Barlow in a recent Art 21 interview calls this adjacent yet ongoing practice heroic and Joan Mitchell describes her studio space as one of plentitude.
I am an artist of heroic plentitude.
Art and artists exist regardless of whether they are seen by an audience. “There are plenty of artists who don’t have exhibitions, there’s plenty of art that’s never seen,” states Barlow. “Many artists endure that for their entire lives and it’s heroic.”
Joan Mitchell
“The solitude that I find in my studio is one of plentitude. I am enough for myself. I live fully there.”
I’ve been trying hard to tend to the business of being an artist. I have been trying hard to write an artist statement that represents the work and the thinking behind the work. It takes me to a tangled place. Maybe more like a snare. I think because, in beautiful ways, I do not fit the categories provided. Recorded here is a poetic version The Shape and Shadow of my Work. I believe it does a better job of telling the story. Let me know what you think.
I believe that being an artist is the best way to be a human aware of the interconnections with other living entities, the best way to remain curious and open hearted to possibility and transformative change.
My goal is to live dangerously, to go ahead and take the risk of sharing written work. I am hoping to find readers who love thinking in a visual way and readers who love to untangle troubling ideas through their creative practice.
In this collection of writing I will share work in progress, and some of my writing practice over the ages that has previously only been found in fragments on Instagram or in my secret digital and written files.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. This is an experiment. This work is currently free to your eyes and your friend’s eyes. If it gets some bounce over time I will consider shifting into a paid subscription option.