Silent partner

To those who are wondering where I've been this week, there is no fancy answer. It's just been a bad week, and I haven't had a lot of nice things to say. And as my mom taught me, if you don't - then don't say anything at all. However, I do believe the funk is lifting and I'm looking forward to the weekend. Tomorrow is the ART on BART event, and I'm doing a performance titled 'Kiss It Goodbye'. For anyone interested in that, you can look here. The weather has been very warm the last few days, and I'm looking forward to spending some time with my husband. Maybe I'll see some of you at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival. Dolly Parton anyone?

Going once, going twice, sold!

The auction this weekend was a big success. Loads of people turned out, and of the 100+ works for sale, there were only 15 pieces of art that were not bought. Pretty amazing. Especially when you think about how notorious SF is for having no art buyers, and couple that idea with the fact that most people who raised their bidding numbers during the live auction were probably in their early 30's - it's miraculous. People actually wanted to buy art, and did! Hooray for ISA and Hooray for SF. The school made thousands of dollars, and people seemed to be genuinely having some fun.

Auction crowd

Silent Auction works (like mine) were hung around the periphery of the space.

One of the most successful Live Auction sales of the evening: a Larry Sultan.

Knock Offs

Tomorrow night is the first Independent School of Art event that I'll be participating in. I hope to see everyone there!


The Independent School of Art (ISA) will hold a black market auction of high quality knock-offs of well-known artists' works. ISA will be staging an event titled the Black Market Auction. Artists selected for this show (which will include students from the school as well as over 75 local and national artists) will be producing high quality knock-offs of well-known local, national, and international artists' works. The participants were requested to knock-off works that they would like to own themselves or wish to see more readily available to others. During the two-day exhibition at the Hayes Valley Market, a 6000 square foot gallery in Hayes Valley run by Albert Herter and Lisa Rybovich Crallé, these works will be sold through silent and live auction at bargain prices. All artists (knockers-off) will receive 50% of the sale price when their work is sold. The works available for sale are not interpretations, parodies, or inspired by, but true replications. These knockoffs are designed to be 90% to 100% the quality of the original artworks in comparison. All public information regarding this event will list the original artists and the knock-off artists intermingled so that no one knows who knocked off whom. We are simply running a black market auction of great original works, by great artists, at great prices. In addition to magnanimously undermining the art market, your purchase will also generously help to support the ISA.

Dream of roses

I am a consistent dreamer. If I were diligent, and wrote them down after waking up, I would probably have enough material for my art to last a lifetime. I was really good about doing this as a teenager, but now I'm useless at it. And as we all know, the day progresses and the memory of the dream fades. Unless it is exceptionally powerful, but those are rare.

I will often return to places (places I don't know in this life) through my dreams. And they are ALWAYS in color. Whoever said that people don't dream in color was delusional.

Last night I had so many dreams, but I can still remember a few now. The one that struck me the most transpired as follows:

I am walking with a large crowd towards what seems like a stage. Perhaps a concert crowd... I am wearing all black and have my Pixies hooded sweatshirt on. As I get nearer to the security gates, I decide the crowd looks amazing and I should be taking photographs of them. I turn around and head back towards my bag, which is situated on a shelf with a group of people elsewhere. I pull out a polaroid camera and leave my medium format, out of the bag, on the shelf. (This is dumb, because anyone could steal it). I proceed back into the sea of people heading inside, and this time there are two security stations to pass through. At the first one I am harassed by a guard, who asks me some questions so fast that I don't understand him. He is pulling at my hooded sweatshirt, and I assume he wants it taken off and put through the Xray machine. But by the time I try to have him repeat what he said, he has rushed me through. At the second gate, it's the same situation, but this time I still can't hear what the guard wants. He is also tugging at my hoodie, which I start to take off, but he stops me.

"What did you say? The last guard asked me too, but I couldn't understand him."
"Wires. Please remove any wires you have."
"Oh. I don't have any wires."
"Ok. You can go then... Wait. What's this?"

I turn around, and see that behind me is a large greenhouse. It's old. It's looks vintage. The frame is painted white, but it's faded dramatically. It's really beautiful. And at first all that seems to be inside is a large glass bell jar with a rose bush inside. The leaves of the flowers are red with yellow linings.

"I'm an artist. I grind rose petals to make my paint. It's nothing dangerous."

I know that this is a lie, and the guard seems apprehensive. I look back again, and start to notice lots of other things inside starting to take form. I realize this is my magical cabinet of things, and that I am a magician of sorts. There are creatures crawling along the walls and ceilings, which slowly appear and disappear. I see four sets of legs in golden pants, that seems half the size of normal legs, and they are scurrying, escaping out of the greenhouse. I start to panic and realize I am in a lot of trouble.

A new dreams starts.

I am in my home (somewhere I've never been), but I'm actually the mother from Six Feet Under. I am walking down a long hall to a cupboard. I am looking for my linens and silverware to set the dining room table. I open a beautiful closet, and it is full of large drawers. I open one, and there are lots of beautiful things inside. I take out a light avocado colored table cloth. The linen is heavy and thick - it is very high quality. I look at the corner and see a beautiful crest with an insignia attached somehow to the cloth. It's round and wooden with an intricate design carved into it. It almost like a wax seal on the back of a letter. I know this is my crest, and that it is magical. I go back to the drawer and see there is a row of beautiful pale red and green glass bottles filled with a clear liquid. They're lying on their side, but somehow nothing spills. I decide these will be the water glasses for dinner and start to pull them out. But the power dies, and there is no light, so I put them down and start down the hall with the tablecloth. I feel my way into the dining room, and start looking for some candles. I hear something faint coming, and it is suddenly very windy inside. There is an incredible bright light that bursts from the hall into the dining room from the doorway. I try to see who or what it is, but the light is just too bright.

And then I woke up.

Eastsider

There is a cool review in the Eastsider online about the DRESS show. I will be doing the first of my knitting sittings for that exhibition this weekend from 12-5. It's a very quiet, intimate piece, and I wonder how that will transpire in such a public space...

I am spending all my time in the studio painting right now. The light is so good in there, and I listen to classical music all day. It helps that Max is a classical music fanatic, and I have lots to choose from to put on my iPod. Right now I'm really into Nigel Kennedy and Yo Yo Ma.

It hit me like 10 tons of bricks that I am back to the solitary life of an artist. It seems that Helena (my studiomate) and I have completely different schedules, and I'm almost always here alone.

I had my studio next to Scott Oliver while I was at CCA. I went to hear him speak on a panel at Southern Exposure last week, about a show he's in there right now. I was at the back of the room, but he saw us come in and smiled. As I sat and listened to him answer questions, I suddenly realized I will never have the feeling again that I did at CCA in my studio. Often Scott and I would walk into eachother's spaces and talk. Or chat over the wall. Or just listen to eachother's music. And I loved that. Even just knowing he was next door was enough. But I'll never have that again. I am suddenly remembering all the artist talks and class lectures where people kept saying, '...because once you leave grad school, that's it. You won't have anyone to talk to about the work. You'll be on your own. And you'll have to figure it all out for yourself.'

Yikes. I hope it wont be that bad. But I am definitely feeling the solitude right now.

Best medicine

This weekend 'date night' was finally reinstated. Having no more house guests, we were able to steal away together for an evening alone. I decided to find a restaurant we had not eaten at before, and came up with Medicine, thanks to my studiomate's recommendation. To say that we liked this place would be an understatement. It was some of the best Japanese food I've ever had, and if money grew on trees, I would consider having lunch there every day.

The decor was so beautiful, and the waitstaff were unusually friendly and helpful. I love it when a server recommends things to eat. Please check out the link and read about the premise under which this place was created. No reservations are taken, and they automatically add 17% gratuity to the bill - they will not accept more. For someone like me, this is heaven. I hate figuring out the tip, and appreciate it all being provided for me. The food was unreal and we were in such a good mood when we left the place.

I ate the Tempura Set (10.95). Assorted tempura of lotus root, sweet potato, corn, asparagus & apple-peach spring roll. Fresh artisan tofu with garnish. Miso soup with Japanese cucumber, sour plum and junsai. Fresh light pickles of red and yellow pepper, Japanese cucumber, and turnip. Healthy 9-grain rice bowl (includes amaranth, spelt, teff, black forbidden rice, and golden flax seeds) (.75)

We shared the fried tofu vegetable balls. Spheres of seasoned mashed tofu and vegetables, quick fried and served in a savory sauce with a garnish of ginger and Japanese radish. (5.95)

Max ate the Soba Set (8.95). Buckwheat noodles in housemade shojin broth, topped with wakame seaweed, fiddlehead fern, sour plum, and mixed sesame-flax seeds. Fresh artisan tofu with garnish. Fresh light pickles of red and yellow pepper, Japanese cucumber, and turnip. Healthy 9-grain rice bowl (includes amaranth, spelt, teff, black forbidden rice, and golden flax seeds) (.75)

Next stop was the movies. Of course! We saw The Constant Gardener. This movie was brilliant. Directed by Fernando Meirelles (who did City of God -- also brilliant), this film makes you think about just how fucked Africa really is. This film has been plaguing me, and I can't stop thinking about it. Not the usual Hollywood fare... it was gritty, real, brutal, smart and sad. As AO Scott writes in his NYTimes review, "This is a supremely well-executed piece of popular entertainment that is likely to linger in your mind and may even trouble your conscience."

Dinner and the movie get a 10/10. Both are worth checking out if you have a free evening to to do so.

DRESS

Last night was the opening of the Dress show at the Richmond Art Center. There was a big accident on the bridge in the afternoon, so getting there was a bit of a nightmare. Melissa and I ended up forfeiting a ride there and hopped on the BART instead. Ruth called to warm of the traffic jam, which she sat in for 2 hours! (Sorry Ruthie...) Nevertheless, the show was packed when we got there.

A small but thrilling moment at the show was seeing my name on the wall in vinyl letters. It's the small things people -- its the small things. Thanks to everyone who came out and showed support, despite the bad traffic and coinciding opening at the Wattis Institute. And thanks to Max for treating Melissa and I to dinner at Cesar's afterwards. Yummy!

For a slideshow click here.

Old knitting sitting scarves on the wall, new ones to be done on the couch. There were sign-up sheets for people to schedule a knitting sitting with me in the gallery.

SFU Forever...

** To all the people I love dearly that have not seen the final SFU season, do not worry. There are no spoilers here**

Anyone who reads the papers or watches television knows that Six Feet Under ended last month. I received some emails and phone calls after the final episode, asking why I hadn't blogged about it. As my friend Libby told me, she watched it at midnight and wanted someone to talk to about it. Everyone wanted someone to talk to about it... I watched the last episode alone at home. I was grateful for that, because I wept like a baby. I mean the whole shebang: tears, shaking, blubbering... I actually had to lay down and take a nap afterwards I felt so distraught. Ben called from New York to ask how I was doing. We both admitted to losing our shit a little, and then proceeded to make up a song. 'Don't cry for me Six Feet under' (to the tune of the Evita theme song).

Without giving anything away, I will say the following. This show was an amazing piece of art. Beautifully written, exquisite cinematography, fantastic actors and excellent music. The song from the last 10 minutes of the final episode ('Breathe Me' by Sia) continued to cause tears and sadness whenever Ben and I heard it last week. I felt like I wanted to give the show a big hug. To give Alan Ball a big hug. To give Peter Krause a big hug. It has been unlike any other show I've seen on television, and leaves me hopeful that there will be others like it in the future. It has set the bar pretty high, and will always have a VERY special place in my heart.

We went to the Home Depot in Colma, and drove through this cool looking cemetery next door to it. It has a weird set up which allows cars to drive around the periphery of the grounds. We parked alongside the path and looked out at the gravestones. I noticed a crow and thought of Six Feet. I leaned over to get my camera and take a photo of it. When I looked back up, I realized there were lots of them. Why do crows hang out at cemeteries?

This show really made me think a lot about death. The silliness of it. The unavoidable nature of it. The fear that surrounds it for me.

While I am typing this, Max just asked me to listen to his favorite new Death Cab For Cutie song. If it doesn't leave a knot in your throat, you aren't human. I think the lyrics are quite fitting.

I Will Follow You Into the Dark
Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

Being creative is hard

While Ben was here, Susan was kind enough to spend an afternoon teaching us to screenprint. We did this in a very low tech way, using newsprint stencils on the screen. Ben designed a cat with a moustache. He took the cut out pieces and stuck them on my face. VERY PRETTY.

I had a hard time with this project. We were supposed to pick something simple and easy, with a few different layers, in order to practice the concept of multiple colors and layering. I felt a lot of pressure and couldn't decide on a drawing. Eventually I just ended up helping Ben with his cat, and I gave up on my piece. He told me afterwards that I can't have everything be perfect. That sometimes I just have to let it go, and accept that there will be mistakes.

It made me sound like a hard ass, but it's true. I have this awful 'all-or-nothing' attitude sometimes, and it doesn't get me anywhere good. Although, I feel like the work I see that seems effortless was probably anything but. Pollock's drip paintings, Marcel Dzama's rootbeer watercolors... They all look so easy. But they're not. And there were many steps in between Point A and Point B that we never see.

I'm sure it's all about balance, and this is what I will have to master.

Penguin Headquarters

The move into my new studio is complete. It would have take 4 weeks longer than it did, were it not for Ben. I have already started working in there, and the vibe is really amazing. I just love being there! At one point I turned to him and told him cool it was that I needed a certain tool and found it with such ease. He really forced me to think about where I put everything away and how to set up the space. I have already completed a painting there, and put lots of work up on the walls.

Hallway


Stickers on the Door


Room View


Skylights


Detail Shots


Detail Shots

Madonna Inn

When Ben and I drove back up to San Francisco, he treated us to a night at the Madonna Inn. I have heard so many stories about this place, and honestly - nothing you hear can truly prepare you for this place. It is UNREAL. It's like a melding of Willy Wonka and Disney Land. It's psychedelic and kitsch and just plain crazy. You have to leave all aesthetic preferences at the door, and just embrace the insanity for what it is. It's so bad it's good!

We stayed in the William Tell room, which is built around rock formations, and includes a rock waterfall shower. For a slideshow click here.

Wish you were here

One Way Ticket to San Diego $75
Hanging out with your best friend Priceless

I met Ben in San Diego at the end of August, and then we drove back up to San Francisco together. He has been staying with us and will be going home next week. It has been amazing. We have always gotten along, but this time is somehow different. I wake up with aching stomach muscles from the amount of laughing we do everyday. I have been moving into my new studio and installing work for an upcoming exhibition and we have been running around the city together. He's been a HUGE help, and I am overwhelmed by how helpful he's been. I feel very lucky!

Anniversary #1 (Paper)

Top Ten Things about our anniversary this year:

1. Being given a packing list, and having no idea of the destination.
2. Thinking we were going on a road trip and ending up on a plane to Maui.
3. Seeing the beach out the bedroom window.
4. Fresh fish dinners every night, made by my husband.
5. Pancakes and fresh mango for breakfast, made by my husband.
6. Playing scrabble drunk.
7. Swimming in the Olivine Pools.
8. Sleeping in every day.
9. Sunset at the top of the crater.
10. 1 year of marriage and there is still an enormous amount of love.