Shelter & Vines

A Day in the Garden

Rain At My Window - Nocturne #1, 2 & 3

Forest Alignment

Frustrated Gardner

Today I spent the better part of the day cleaning up the yard.  I realized I approach spring clean-up much the way I do my art collection.  I'm constantly re-arranging plants to better show case their colors or shape -- a sort of outside metamarism.    

Of course there are the plants that looked good in the shop but do absolutely nothing for me once within the palette of my yard.  Over the years I've come to realize that I only like blue greens, pink and white near the front of my house -- yellow looks absolutely horrid.  

And then of course there are the "fashionable" plants that I tire of -- they all get up-rooted and put into a large bed in the back corner of my yard -- sort of an island of misfits.  I have a small crate of art with a few pieces that I don't quite know what I was thinking when I purchased; they may have outlived the fad, or simply don't have the right context in which to shine in my home.

The frustration I sense is the fact that it is never settled; with every new piece of art or every new plant that I must have -- it causes a cascade of events while I struggle to fit it in to an already overcrowded environment with lots of stars.  I upset things I'd previously worked diligently to balance, or I realize I really have no open space for which to display -- and off to the bin or the island they go.  

I have tried to give away plants and art when I know it would have a better chance somewhere else... and then too, I make endless promises to myself to not go to another nursery, or not to look at any more art... why I don't know -- it most certainly is an exercise in futility for me!

Stories

I changed the tag line under the heading of this blog from: "PORTRAIT OF AN EMERGING, CONTEMPORARY VISUAL ART COLLECTOR" To: "Portrait of Art Seeker". (And then I changed it a few more times!)

I did this because I don't think it will just be "visual art" that I will end up talking about, nor do I think it will be limited to collecting. As this evolves I feel that it will be more centered on the art experience in the full spectrum.

Recently I came across a local artist through ETSY, and was fascinated with the jewelry that was made, primarily from the stand point of the stories that were detailed with each listed piece. I bought a bracelet about legacies and entitlements and then went back several days later and purchased 3 more items -- primarily because the stories resonated with me. (One was about freedom, another was about the lesson of 'resilience' and one was the ideals of a small mid-western college town.)

Though these items were billed as "jewelry" and perhaps are more centered in "crafting", (primarily due to the assemblage of recycled images) -- the stories transcended the piece into "art" for me. The word smithing was as much of the experience as the tangible jewelry, and in fact elevated the work into a fine work of art due to the complex stories interwoven with the layout of the images that made the links in the bracelet.

I recall a time that I was considering going to an art opening in which I, (along with a large group of others who had answered an open call), had assisted an artist creating a large installation piece. I was sure of my participation -- firmly rooted in helping another artist express themselves -- but I was struck by the artist own pre-conceived notions of her helpers -- My frustration peaked when she indicated I was the voice of the "stay at home Mom" in her project. This certainly was not how I saw myself, nor had anything to do with why I chose to contribute to the project. So, I decided to create a shirt for the opening that was going to be made up of my own labels. Nobody was going to tell the story of "me" other than myself.

I used an iron labeling system on an old blue jean shirt and typed out words and phrases -- I included short bits of stories I had written, my favorite things, descriptors of my own, (like caffeined), and so on. I even got creative and used regionally based areas of the shirt to tie to the words, (a statement about time was ironed on the left wrist of the shirt, a comment about idiots was place near the tail of the back of the shirt, etc.)

I tried the shirt out in a local coffee shop and was very aware of the stares, I even caught someone very close to my back -- apparently in mid-sentence when I turned suddenly. I ultimately decided to skip the opening entirely as I felt that my protest may be ill timed. An opening, though might invite creative interaction, is clearly a time and place for the featured artist. I only wore the shirt in public one more time and some years later to a Halloween party -- I went as an "open book", (but nobody really got it there either!). I still have the shirt in my closet and wonder how long I'll hang on to it.

But isn't this what art is for some? To scream out to the world and to defy how you are perceived -- to say this is who I am, this is what I think about, this is how I see things? Aren't the stories away of working out the injustices we see, or the beauty that we know is temporary? Wether or not we use actual words or merely images, (and sometimes a combination of both), it is all story telling.