Sunday, September 19, 2010

Plan for performance (and as usual I figure out the last bit just a day before the event. I really really need to figure out how to work according to a plan.):

*Clothing: not sure yet. need to go through costumes. For sure I will need an apron.

1. Shoo everybody away, so that there is a big, circular space around me. The motions should be like you're shooing chickens. Flap your hands at people.

Materials needed: none.

2. Find someone in the audience and have them hold up empty "mirror". Take plastecine (red and white) out of pocket and mold it over face in the shape of nose. Take your time, knead it out and bang it against your palm. mold an oversized nose onto your face and tie it on with a strip of cloth. take a birthday candle out of your pocket and place it in the plastecine.

Materials needed: plastecine (red and white), "mirror" (cut out of cardboard and hung off a belt), strip of cloth, birthday candle already melted in to holder.

3. Collect people from the audience and hand them bags of flour, taken from pockets in apron. clip off the ends of the bags and shoo them away, out of the rogatka. Make clicking noises with your tongue. The purpose of this is to make white flour trails out the door.

Materials needed: bags of flour (4-5), scissors (hung off a belt).

4. Climb on top of someone (make sure they know you're going to do this beforehand). Get your nose (and the candle) as close to the ceiling as possible. Light other birthday candles one by one from the candle in nose and hand them to people in the audience. The performance is over when the candle in my nose burns out by itself.

Materials needed: birthday candles (a handful or so).

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I keep going over and over in my head different plans for the future, for as soon as I finish working at the firm. I only have a few months left, after all, and I'm pretty worried about it. It's kind of funny to be so stressed about this when during this entire period I have been pretty much non-stop complaining about how I want it to end already, and when am I going to finally have a stuuuudio? And now that it's getting closer I'm getting a little scared. Which makes sense- this will be the first time that I dedicate myself entirely to making art, as opposed to the half-assed calling-the-balcony-a-studio attempts. What if I actually turn out to be full of shit?

I'm trying to do what is good for anxiety, at least in my case: making as many concrete preparations as I can at this stage, seeing if I've missed anything that I could be doing to make this transition as smooth as possible and reminding myself that I'm doing all I can and I can't control everything. It's helping.

I'm also reminding myself that the studio (despite the ridiculous amount of money we're going to put in it) is not going to be some magical solution for Becoming An Artist. It makes things easier, by proiding space, tools and hopefully a social atmosphere conducive to work, all of which are very important. But the art-making and the work ethic needed to go with it are up to me. I think that's what worries me the most (other than running out of money in the middle): that I will find myself in a fancy-schmancy studio and still not being doing the work that I want to be doing. That not having enough space etc. will turn out to have been an excuse.

I really hope that's not the case. I don't think it is. And there's really only one way to find out.

I also know that having a studio isn't the be-all and end-all of my practice. I might find that I work better in spaces I have to negotiate, as long as they're my own. I'm just..I guess I'm just trying not to get caught up in unrealistic expectations, which will only serve to foster anxiety, which will sabotage my work and make me miserable. Sometimes it works better than other times. Which, while a pretty bland statement, is sometimes all you can say about containing anxiety.
Yeller and I seem to have passed through the phase of being attracted to each other and moved directly into AwkwardLand. We keep making bad jokes in slightly-too-loud tones of voice at each other and are avoiding physical contact entirely. It's weird, but I'm pretty sure it'll pass. We're good friends, we'll figure it out.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

I don't want to take money from my folks, but I will.

I mean, Dad lost his job. And I don't know where that leaves my parents, because they don't tell me how bad (if at all) their financial situation is. They spend money as though everything's fine- just got the garden area redone, Mom wants to buy new patio furniture- but that doesn't necesarily mean anything. The only answer I'll get from them is, "you don't have to worry about that, that's between your Father and I." Of course their financial matters are their business, but I worry. And I wish they would confide in me, the way adults do.

But I did have all these unforseen expenses, and I haven't been able to save the way I wanted to, during this period of employment. And it's not as though I've sought them out- they've offered to help. I also think it's completely awesome of them to be so supportive of my trying to get a foothold in the arts. I just feel odd and bad taking money from them at this point. I don't want to be part of the constellation of things they need to worry about funding.