Spaces

This is a piece called "Spaces" that I did for my letterpress class. It's 2 photopolymer plates and a blind embossment of text (which you can't see), printed in an edition of 45. It's been done for a bit, but we just got them back and did an exchange of our broadsides today.

The assignment was to respond to an artist who does letterpress or bookwork. I chose Julie Chen. More specifically, I was responding to a line of text in her book "Panorama".

"Leave a space for the things that are gone so they will not be forgotten."

Something in that sentence that really inspired me. It almost made me cry the first time I read it.

The piece was first sketched out with the full quote, and the lone figure in the bed that you see a version of on the middle left. Originally, it was pretty obviously me. But after a really good discussion with my teachers about it, I changed it to be less about me, and more about an overall feeling that is shared throughout the human race. It was helpful, and I ended up with a much more successful piece because of this suggestion.

It was different for me. My work is generally so heavily autobiographical. And it still is here, but it's also more accessible, which I like. It's just hard for me to think this way on my own. I'm going to miss the sort of response and help I get with my art in school when I'm done.

I'd go on, but it's finals week, and I have tons of work to do.

Decades and Expectations

I am in an art show. It's opening this Friday, November 4th, from 6 to 8 in the Snow College gallery. It's an alumni show for folks that graduated there in the last 10 years, and from what I saw while dropping off my work yesterday, it's going to be really really good. You should come to the opening if you can. I will be there.

I've got two pieces in it. One of them is that "Things Used (Summer 2011)" book that I blogged about previously. The other is this.

  (I am really sorry about the image quality here. I'm planning to get a nice scan of it or something, and I'll update the image when I do. Just no time right now. Updated.)

It's a piece that, basically, is about how I feel like I can't expect anything from anyone or anywhere, and how, in contrast, the expectations people have for me are very clear cut and well known. It's one of those frustrations that hit me rather hard lately for several reasons.

I went to a place I expected to love and have had a very hard time adjusting. I finally had a space to do art and got the worst artist's block I've ever had. I basically ran out of money from my summer job, and haven't been able to find a new source of income. Someone I loved that promised to always be my friend sort of abandoned the idea, to the point where they suddenly stopped speaking to me for no apparent reason. And one person that I've sort of counted on having around in the future seems to have other plans.

They're really all separate issues. But as I wrote down my thoughts and feelings in my sketchbook, trying to figure out a way to visualize what I was feeling, I kept returning to that sentence. I just want to know what to expect.

I could go on, but I think I'll leave the commentary on my concept at that. I will say, making a piece of art I am actually proud of after so long made all the difference in the world. It's helped me adjust to where I am and come to peace with things. I feel much better now. Even if nothing really has changed, communicating the idea visually and getting it out there helps a ton.

"Expectations" is an intaglio printed photopolymer plate. It was printed in an edition of 5. If you have a chance to see it in person at that opening (or any other time) please do so. And let me know what you think of it.