P.S.

On the same note as my last post I remember this fantastic quote from a truly exceptional book, Everything Is Illuminated, that I would recommend to anyone. This quote is from a book within the book, an encyclopedia of sorts written by the whole town. This was their definition of Art.

"Art is that thing having to do only with itself-- the product of a successful attempt to make a work of art. Unfortunately there are no examples of art, nor good reasons to think that it will ever exist. (Everything that has been made has been made with a purpose, everything with an end that exists outside that thing, i.e., I want to sell this, or I want this to make me famous and loved, or I want this to make me whole, or worse, I want this to make others whole.) And yet we continue to write, paint, sculpt, and compose. Is this foolish of us?"
- Jonathan Safran Foer

Is this foolish of us? Yes, I think so, but so necessary at the same time. It is this expression, this alternate form of communication that feeds the soul and reminds us of the divinity of creation. Everyone creates for different reasons, but ultimately we do it because it feels good, because it helps us to understand ourselves and the world better. At least that's why I do it, foolish or not.

Rothko rediscovered

So as it is early in the semester I am still diligent in my school work. Namely I have been reading the required text for my Late 20th Century Art class. We are on the brink of the Abstract Expressionist movement and I have found it fascinating so far to read about that shift from the popular social commentary paintings of the 30's with clear subject, to the abandonment of subject beyond form, color, shape, etc. for a focus on the experience of painting. The defining factor for a piece of art became the artist's experience in painting it. I just love that.
And as I have been reading I have become more and more impressed with Mark Rothko. I've known him for ages, well, known of him, I don't know him personally it's a little hard since he's dead. Anyway, in the text it discusses some of Rothko's work during the shift into non-representation, and I was impressed. He and other artists worked from ancient myths and drew inspiration from non-western cultures, whatever. What interested me, was that instead of painting scenes or stories or just borrowing primitive aesthetics, Rothko focused on the emotions in the stories. Even before he used mere blocks of color to express that emotion, he was exploring that aspect of humanity. He's quoted as saying "I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions, tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on." I could not find a picture of the painting in my text of this stage in his work on the internet, but I put up a few examples of his more well known work.







This last one is actually a photograph that I took in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. At the time I took the photograph because I knew Rothko and his paintings were famous, I liked the painting too. But now that I've learned even just a little more about him and his work, I think I appreciate it so much more.
And so before I go, there are just a few little quotes I noticed in the text that I particularly enjoyed.

"The big moment came when it was decided to paint ... just to paint. The gesture on the canvas was a gesture of liberation, from Value- political, aesthetic, moral." -Harold Rosenberg

"the act of painting is a deep human necessity, not the production of a hand-made commodity." - Robert Motherwell

Survival

So I have officially made it through my first week of the semester. Needless to say it's going to be a tough one. My Painting III class is going to be beyond intense. It's the kind of class where you forget you have other classes because it requires that much of your attention. It's going to be good though, I took it with this particular teacher on purpose despite my knowledge that she'd kick my butt. And kick my butt she shall. I know that Miriam, my professor, will work us hard enough and expect enough out of us to push past painting for a grade or making a painting, into painting for the sake of painting. I have no doubt that if anyone can teach me how to be an artist and how to find what I want to say using this medium as a voice, she can. It's weird, but kind of nice to trust my professor so much. She drives me bonkers, but I know that she knows her stuff and can teach me what I want to learn. I'll let you know at the end of the semester if it was worth the pain.
I'll gripe later about the mountains of reading and homework from other classes later.

So here's a physical illustration of my feelings right now.


Inside of my head this is exactly how I feel. A little overwhelmed and tired with the full anticipation of the worst to come.


And this is the brave face I put on. I am overwhelmed and feel inadequate, but I will make it through, I will survive.

Twenty Ten

So this is my first official post of the new year. How exciting. If only I actually had something to say. I just felt like I hadn't posted anything in ages, so here are just a few random tidbits.
I am currently obsessed with Oren Lavie. I posted his incredible stop motion animated music video a few months ago, but more recently bought his CD and am now obsessed. He's not that much to look at but his voice is unbelievably attractive. I just love the soft, earthy quality to his music.



So moving on, I have also been recently introduced to the most delightful TV show, Pushing Daisies. I had heard wonderful things, but couldn't fully understand until I was able to partake in this whimsical, colorful, quirky pleasure of a show. The fact that the main star Lee Pace is unbelievably adorable helps as well.



The glasses are entirely unrelated to the show, I just thought he looked precious in them.



And one more thing before I go, my winter break is very quickly slipping away from me. I took a quick, spontaneous trip up to Buena Vista, VA to help out a friend (for purely selfish reasons seeing as how it gave me an excuse to go up and play with all of my friends in BV), and suddenly all of my time is gone. I have a a teensy bit less than a week until I'm back at school and become a hermit. This semester I have class Monday through Thursday until 8 in the evening. So basically I don't anticipate seeing anybody since I'll probably be doing homework on the weekends. This is what I get for picking the hardest professor for Painting III. Suddenly the fact that I'll be learning so incredibly much from her doesn't seem as important. It's alright, I'll make it through. I don't think hermitage with kill me.