something i talked to my mom about while I was packing/moving was that I actually, in a not ironic way, think that I am superhuman. I somehow continue to believe that I can stay up all night and do a million things and projects and literally defy time. Because I REALLY DO. I stay up till 2 or 3 am, and then I wake up at 7:30 or 8 and ACTUALLY HAVE A NORMAL DAY, EVEN A PRODUCTIVE DAY. and I don’t even really drink coffee (except lately but i think it’s just so I feel more fancy/new-yorker-y while riding the subway). The night time to me feels like an endless sea of time and productivity. Time when no one is there to distract me and I can do all those projects I think about / draw diagrams / make lists about during the day. It’s ALIYA time. And then, I hit this wall every time. because (spoiler alert): I am Not A Superhuman. I’m pretty great, but not a Superhuman. and this really gets me. So many things I want to do. Why can’t I be? Please? Pleaeeeaseeezzee?
One thing that Superhumans are great at is “Mental Packing”. Its where you pack your whole life in your head, and then it’s all taken care of! No Tape Needed TM! I am really good at mental packing. “Don’t worry mom, I Mentally Packed. I’ve got this Under Control.”
But luckily I am also somewhat good at real packing (sort of). 9 boxes later, a pile of trash stuff, a pile of give away stuff, a pile of useful stuff I might have accidentally taken from your desk stuff, a pile of empty boxes/containers stuff, a pile of small gift packages to send off filled with presents (that some people might consider “crap”) and 4 other “to be shipped someday later” boxes, I am moved out of Florida.
One of my last projects was making quilts. I call these my “Wish You Were Here” postcard quilts. I’m not exactly sure where “here” is, but each of these is a tiny world that I just love. They don’t quite go together, but the plastic trees make all these quilts friends. maybe cousins from different nations. The plastic trees make me laugh.
TO all my friends and family and people I don’t even know I love yet across the nation and beyond, I wish you were here with me. I am so excited to be here, wherever that made up tiny hott-pink landscape is.
I really enjoyed this project. It gave each day an assignment, and I was constantly searching for installations or interesting combinations or pieces or shapes or things. This year featured a predominance of sparkles, and sequins. hmm. Also a lot of things I wouldn’t necessarily call “art”.
I guess that’s where I’m still figuring this all out. I do believe that there are art installations and art pieces and art makers all around us. That everything we place in a certain way is important and tells a story and reveals a character and can be aesthetically beautiful. But I also believe in bad art. I think that some things I make are dumb. Or boring. I also am quite judgmental of other art. Especially when it claims to be community driven (what a hypocritical jerk I am).
I’m drawn to certain aesthetics and certain ideas. I like the ideas of larger worlds being encompassed by smaller worlds. I like the idea of collections of things reflecting our larger world collection of things.
Now I’m getting a bit far off I guess.
Point is that this really pushed me to keep creating and looking and documenting my life, even when I think it’s boring or stupid or that I don’t know what I’m doing here or that I’m lonely. I’m interested in how the daily things I do or tell myself or present in my environments are actually residues of me and my life, and are art in themselves. And I think the idea of my past-selves’ residues is all over this residency program. In fact, that’s really what gives it it’s juice.
I’m working on a Academic Paper about the Bonar Family Residency Program, outlining my proposed theories and thesis regarding this type of work. It’s going to be a part of my friend Mary Rothlisberger’s zine for the Palouse Palouse Press, presenting at Open Engagement this May (the conference which all the cool kids and their community-art-moms are going to….). This goes really nicely with my ongoing evolving performance as a Professional Business Lady.
This is the conclusion of the Installation-A-Day, February 2010 project. I brought back a bottle of Pacific Ocean from the west coast (after pouring out the Atlantic Ocean I had brought over), and then poured it into the Atlantic Ocean back here close to home.