June is Painting and Sculpture Month

Having made it through May, which was a busy month of writing (I was warned about these months, as well as those other months where you get next to nothing, by an old friend and fellow writer), and seeing a break in the super heavy writing schedule (I actually welcome it this month - sure when the May checks arrive I will be happy, but weeks of two, even three, deadline days get tough), I have declared June to be Studio Month.

Well, that and finally build a website for my art. OK, more like, finally come up with the content for my designer to build a website. You see, I do not know HTML, and would rather spend my time mastering mosaic than it. Ann, on the other hand, is quite good at this stuff. Unfortunately one can only pester friends, even very good friends, for one free website design, but she is quite reasonable and does a great job.

Of course this means that I will have to get digital images together of my work, and I will have to curate it, which always suggests a direction to take in the next round of paintings.

And, I think I have it. Since I will be working on mosaics for more pragmatic reasons, why not delve back into the archaic and combine tempera on gesso with gold? Yipppeeee! Halos! Wings! Also, I need to do some fine, small stroke painting. I have been back in the realm of big, messy oil painting with big, messy gestures, and have to balance that with lots of fussy, diagonal strokes, building layers and layers of color over a carefully squared and transfered drawing.

Now, why should this concern you, you ask?

Because I have the habit of talking about art a lot when I am doing it a lot. It always seems to be on my mind. And that will probably spill over onto the blog.

Also, when I am in heavy art production mode, my thinking of art tends to involve a lot of technical and theoretical stuff. I know that art writing generates almost zero comments, so I guess that my readers are less interested in those topics, so...

If you, a regular reader, feel that you are not getting your money's worth (and free certainly gives you good reason to complain. Har har har. Don't worry, I will not be putting out a PayPall tips jar), then holler for something else. I will probably say something like, "well, that is nice, dear, and yes, perhaps. Later. Thank you for your comment," or something equally condescending, but you might as well complain anyway. After all complaint must be good for you. It builds healthy bodies and minds in nine different ways!

And everyone loves a constant complainer.

So, to start the ball rolling, I am going to make a complaint. Actually it is a meta-complaint, since it is a complaint about a type of complaint. And it is not really my original meta-complaint, rather one that Melanie noticed.

Don't women (I suppose some men do this to, but I don't hang out with men like that) who wear ill-fitting shoes in order to follow some fashion, only to complain constantly that their feet are killing them drive you nuts? Is this really just a ploy to get comments on their stupid shoes?

"Oh I bought these new Masochist900 Slippers and they are just killing my feet!"

"Shucks, I left my antique eighteenth century surgeon's kit in the car. Just hold on and we can take care of the affliction immediately. You might want to order a double martini, as I am plumb out of ether."

Which reminds me of a cartoon in an early music journal. A fellow is in the dentist chair and the dentist is proudly explaining all the period tools he will be using in tonight's operation. I suppose a harpsichordist probably should submit to a foot-pedal powered dentist drill.

But back to those stupid shoes...

First, let me say that I hate shoes. I wear them as little as possible. Sure the callouses on my feet are something like rhino horns, and, yes, it is true that when a glass breaks in our kitchen I do the final inspection by walking barefoot over the area and then picking the shards out of my feet, where they did no harm whatsoever, but I still see them as a slightly necessary evil. There are times when I need them for the protection they offer, and I think, "well, if I did this more often I wouldn't need these stupid shoes."

But, as they are socially and sometimes physically necessary, I have my favorites, all of which win points based on comfort and price (OK, with the exception of wingtips, but that is because I like intricate leather work). If a shoe is uncomfortable I will not wear it. Now, surely there are people who will dispute this, but I don't think that my cheap and comfortable shoes look all that bad. OK, maybe the recent kick for Land's End Mocs is a little Teutonic looking, but all I can say is $19 and comfortable.

So, why bother with uncomfortable (and always expensive, I would guess. As I hate shopping about as much as I hate shoes, I really don't know) shoes?

And, if there is any merit to wearing miserable shoes, then, surely, the greater merit must come in suffering in silence. Penance for fashion. I don't get it, but I don't generally understand fashion anyway. But at least a penitential view would put some bloody nobility in the undertaking. Naturally, the best combination for such a thing would be to wear ugly and uncomfortable shoes, and maintain a pleasant demeanor, even while dancing the tango all night.

So, maybe that could be a fun sculptural project: penitential shoes. Ugly, bulky, painful shoes. Maybe with a rating system for degree of penance: the once in a while curse at another driver: Degree A, for a once a month gluttony episode: Degree B, for killing someone: Degree C, for proposing the ordination of women: Degree D with barbed wire insoles.

Ah, I feel healthier and happier already.

Posted by erik at June 4, 2005 2:10 AM | TrackBack