We’ve been away from home for about a week. In the meantime, the wonderful Grace Chin dreamed in our beds, watered the plants, fed the cats, and even blogged our blog.
I realize that sometimes when I say ‘home’, what I really mean is our whole life here. More or less the same routine of trying to get up before the school next door starts its batshit mind-control on the students, biking out to breakfast, and then settling down to do battle… battle with the day, the self (laziness, doubt, all that good stuff)… battle to make art.
I made Zedeck a card with squares on it to keep track of all the hours he’s been writing. Labour never looked so pretty!
Btw, if you’re an artist or want to be one, read Steven Pressfield’s War of Art. Basically he makes the simple distinction between amateurs and professionals: showing up. TRYING. Every day. Even when you really fucking don’t feel like it. Even if the sum total of literally HOURS of work leaves you with two sentences and a blank page.
After 8 months, sometimes I still wake up and for an instant don’t know where I am. That tells me alot about myself and how much I changed my life. How I did I get here? With all this useable space and useable time. I used to run around, driven to do alot of things I thought I SHOULD be doing, ticking off projects like crazy and trying to be a people-pleaser.
Some people call this a ‘time-out’, a ‘sabbatical’. I got an email the other day asking if I was done with my ‘break’ and ready to work again. Truth is, I never stopped working. Sometimes I end the day here in this sleepy little town more tired than I ever remember being - doing what I NEED to do.
Such as… failing really fucking alot. I’m making a short video for a screening programme in Japan called 3.11 - a response to the aftermath of the earthquake that happened on 11 March last year. After 3 aborted versions, it’s finally coming together. I realize I’ve been looking up too much. This one is about looking down, at the ground. You’ll see it when it’s done.
And also… making art with no end in sight. With no project space, gallery or deadline, ideas have started popping up like grass. Darker ideas to do with death, violence and deception, which I truly believe would never have come to light if I was still busy trying to fulfill project briefs or grant proposals. This one, this one will be epic. It will take a bit longer, but you’ll also see (and hear) it when it’s done.
I wonder, how much art we see is driven by galleries, curators and institutions? Not driven at the final stage (I accept and value that as part of the ecology of art making, production and consumption), but at the very inception, the very seed of ideas? And then I wonder what drives galleries, curators and institutions themselves? And then it starts to make sense why there’s a constant debate about art and politics, art and life, art and the market that takes up alot of valuable fucking energy and facebook updates.
This is for life. This is what we fucking need. Art autonomy and artist autonomy.
‘Quit yer bitchin on yer blog
Stop pretending art is hard’
Seize it, my comrades!
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marshmalmo liked this
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jayemmcee said:
really great post Sharon.
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jayemmcee liked this
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lot1699 posted this
