Digest, Elizabeth Lundberg Morisette.  Individual elements average 8" x 4" x 14"

Every now and then an installation grabs me and says:  aren’t I interesting?  Come spend some time with me.  This is one of those.  I am in love with this piece.   On the right is a closer picture taken from the back of this column.  This is made from paper (in this instance, textbook pages), staples and bees wax.  On the wall are definitions of "digest" from the dictionary with an added definition of "digest" as an installation at ArtOMatic (which I unfortunately didn’t write down).  Elizabeth’s ArtoMatic page says: " I like to work with items that society deems ‘useless.’  I take these pieces of ephemera and redefine them as sculpture.  Each material I use has a history attached. This history speaks to the viewer on many different levels….This installation is about digestion, both physical and mental. " There’s a playful whimsy and somewhat StarTrek  feeling to the pieces, all gathered together and I guarantee they make you want to touch them and look inside them and see exactly how all this fits together.  This is what I love about ArtOMatic – bringing out this kind of art which I usually wouldn’t have an opportunity to enjoy.

Housekeeping: 

Christine Kane writes that her blog is up and running just fine.  Apparently I am the only one that cannot access it.  Bummer!  Will a few of you please click from here and leave me a message if you can access it?  (This link takes you to her home page, which I get fine.  Then click on her blog – that’s where I can’t seem to get to) .Then I’ll know (as will her webster) that it is something glitched between her blog and my computer (sigh).

Brenda Sylvia is actually Brenda Sylva. 

The art critics post drew a lot of comment – much of it off line.  Artist friend Julia Musengo notes that art criticism as a practice started during the industrial revolution.  She said that when the middle class started to form and get money, they knew they had to buy art to emulate the rich folks.  But they didn’t really have a good idea about what, exactly, art is.  So they needed critics and gallery managers to run interference for them.  She calls art criticism "a dinosaur" that should dry up and go away.  Made me smile.

Caroline writes (because typepad wouldn’t let her post – I have that problem with all things that require logging in with Google before I comment):  Art criticism has never helped me.  In fact it stopped me finishing a course in stained glass.  I didn’t share his idea of aesthetic and strangely it’s quite hard to keep up the internal comments that I don’t like his work so why should he like mine, when his assessment of work was so much more part of the course than I’d expected.  I only wanted to learn the techniques from him, and was perfectly happy to be told how to improve at the craftsmanship level…Hey, I’m really upset about this still…

In the end, it seems to me that since art IS in the eye of the beholder, all we’re hearing from art critics is their own opinion.  Trained or not (does it matter?).  Not everyone is trying to fit into a movement or find their place in the logical straight line run of art from the cave folks to present day (and I would so argue that art is hardly a straight line and certainly not something that is logical and so cannot, cannot, cannot be dissected logically.  Wrong side of the brain.  It belongs on the feeling side).  Some are simply giving a certain energy a place to express itself, which is their gift back to this world. 

And I noted not a peep in the Washington Post about ArtOMatic this weekend.  How sad is that?!

Diane Tesler emailed a thank you for posting her work and drew, for me, a comparison between her work and Patricia Di Bella’s that makes lots of sense: "I see some intriguing parallels between Open House II and Big Red Jacket.  Both house and jacket are containers in their way, each big, filling the space.  And it is the openings in both cases that portray the secret inner life.  How does the lacy garment relate to that aggressive red jacket?  What a great way to portray the layers of the persona!" – now that kind of help when looking at art I totally enjoy!  It makes me think and adds layers to what I bring to the viewing.  Then she provided a bit of background on Open House II:  "When I came upon that house out in Indiana, the exposure of its inside rooms just blew me away.  I went out in the field with the cattle and worked like crazy."  And she continues:  "I’ve been painting for a long time, and am still thrilled when a metaphor emerges – it feels like a gift from the universe.  Realism/abstraction – doesn’t matter if the message is true."  Thanks Diane!

Poetry.  Several long agos, I won the quarterly poetry contest at Artella.  Prizes included $$ and a chapbook.  As things will go, the original chapbook person went away (I think), so the chapbook was not forthcoming.  Well, it has now forthcome.  Titled NightVision,  it is the central part of my master’s thesis:   a woman’s trespass on men’s (gender intended) right to write creation stories (and thus create religion in their own image).  The Artella folks used some of my own art and some they chose for each of the 28 stanzas.  It is awesome!  It makes me very happy!.  If you would like a cc, leave me a note and I will send it  out by email.

Finally, I will have another "emerging artist" for you later this week.  Stay tuned!

thought for the day:  There have been many hoorah moments for me along this path that felt like destinations unto themselves.  I remember the first acceptance letter and check for a piece of writing I sold.  That day I screamed so loudly in my backyard that a friend thought I had totaled the car.  I howled to the skies because everyone who had ever told me how hard it was to get published was wrong in that moment and wrong for all time.  I made twenty-five dollars and you couldn’t have given me a pile of rubies that meant more…In many paths of wisdom there is the motif of being tricked into our destinies.  I think our hearts’ callings do that. We want to find a way to paint our paintings or heal the strife of others.  And to do this shining work, we must leave everything we know and learn to trust in and live by grace.  And somewhere down the road, living in grace becomes even more important than the original goal itself.   Or maybe our real goals become more obvious…Don’t get me wrong.  I’m proud of what I’ve done.  but I’m even more enthralled by who I’ve become.  Tama Kieves, This Time I Dance: Trusting the Journey of Creating the Work You Love.