Scattered

This is my first full week off of school and I am nothing but scattered. Being a teacher is such a bi-polar existence - for months at a time you live according to strict time-schedules filled with tons of people. Your life is all about "output." At the end, there's this mad rush of finals, my office is jammed with last minute projects and papers...then, Poof! and it's all over and I'm at home, with stacks of undone tasks, unread books, unfinished images...lots of "un." 

There's a sense of frustration that "at my age" I should be past a whole lot of things that still weigh me down. So, it's a struggle. I'm grateful for the time off. I'm grateful that I have meaningful work. I'm grateful that I have resources. But I'm tired of that cyclical sense...that it all circles back around. That so often I find myself back at the same starting point. Maybe that's natural, but I want more from myself than that feeling. 

This is supposed to be a blog on positive things right? I know...

So, my positive take on this - probably to just "knock it off" that it's okay to laze around for a few days - even a week - even more than that if possible! Too much puritan work-ethic. One of the beliefs that have stayed with me from my Buddhist readings is that we create much of our own suffering through attachment and desire. That awareness of the moment, living in the moment with acceptance can preclude much suffering. Isn't that the goal of meditation? To stop the chatter. To stop the fear of unstructured time. To stop the fear...probably just in general. Or maybe to accept it and feel it - knowing that we can survive it. 

p.s. yes, I realize I said in my previous post that I was taking off for the summer...well I felt like posting, so I did! No rules for me!

Getting There...

Over the years we are often faced with the FACT that we don't take our own advice. Somehow other people's lives are just so much easier to fix...but fixing ourselves is such a different task. One of the "truths" I learned in therapy was that my strengths and flaws were often two sides of the same coin. 

The good part of that was it made me a bit more forgiving of my flaws...baby and the bathwater type of thing. One of my strengths is curiosity and the inability to say "no" as many times as I should - this has given me some great adventures but it can also lead to a lot of distraction that often masquerades as action. 

This year, my goal is to imagine that I'm someone else and take the business side of my artwork in a much more serious manner. Barry Schwartz wrote a wonderful post on this called  Frog In Water  where he stopped making excuses for why his business had slowed and started taking his own advice. I loved what he had to say and decided to take it to heart. 

Here are two goal areas I'm going to pursue - and I think you should consider them as well: 

1. Set a goal for how many "hard copy" exhibitions you'd like to have this year. It can include group shows - but depending on where you are in your art career - really think about the quality level. If you're just starting out - look at the local coffee houses/bars/restaurants in your area. If they're hanging work, then (during the slow hours) ask to speak to the owner or manager about how to show your work. As you hit mid-career, then only participate in quality photography organizations with jurors you'd like to get your work in front of. Review their past exhibitions to make sure your work fits with their visual aesthetics. 

2. Set a goal for how many "virtual" exhibitions or posts about you and your work you'd like to have this year. Using the "links" area on most photography blogs can be a great start - target blogs because bloggers need a lot of subject matter. Here's Lenscratch's Resources page with tons of opportunities for getting out there. 

Finally, I read that the best chance for making a big change is to take it in very small pieces. Things that are doable. How about a goal of 1 "reach out" per week. Once a week, you send out one query to an opportunity that you'd like to have. Keep in mind, you can always choose to do more...but doing at least four per month is probably four more than you're currently doing!

Patience and Courage

Today is the first day of Photo LA and I have been fortunate to be curated into Sarah Lee Projects @ Photo LA 2015 with three other amazing photographers (more on them to come). The upside is that I've had the chance to work with terrific people and hopefully find the 4 day event rewarding, exciting and fun. The potential downside is it exposes me to everything I normally try to avoid in my everyday life: gobs of people and selling myself. It got me thinking about how often I find myself on scary paths.  

Truth is, all goals have difficult steps. Actors want to have an audience, so they have to hit the talk-show circuit ("what if I sound stupid"), writers want someone to buy their book so they do book-signings ("what if no one shows up")...we all have the same issue of doing the crap we're not wild about to continue doing the stuff we can't exist without.  

I've had students tell me that "I just want to make the work, that's what important, not if anyone sees it." My response is usually: "well, let's think about the difference between therapy and art. If the work is therapy...then I agree, that an audience is not important. But, if you're striving to make art, then art is a process of communication and part of your responsibility to the work is to find it a place in the world." Yes, it's excruciating to bare one's soul (or even to bear one's soul) to the world...but if you can somehow pretend that's not happening, or focus on your end goals, it can help you find the courage to move forward. 

I believe that once you've created a work, it has its own rights and it needs to find its place in the world. Sitting in your studio/closet/drawer isn't enough. What if no one wants it? Well...every creative has worried about that from year 1000BC...maybe not those early cave painting guys, let's face it, they had a captive market. Ok, let's say no one wants the work. It could mean multiple things.  Maybe they're idiots. Maybe it's crap. Maybe it's too personal. Maybe it's the wrong market. Maybe it's ahead of its time...who knows? Maybe it's really just a step in your process of becoming a better artist...and you'll realize that in a few years and that takes patience.  It's important to remember that making 2015 the year you get better will mean doing some of the crap that makes you crazy. 

Patience and Courage. 

xxx from the front!

p.s. if you go to Photo LA, come by and say hi...

Getting Out...Part II

This week I'm in Palm Springs for Portfolio Reviews. You see these events advertised everywhere now, they've become a new industry...and I guess I have mixed feelings about them. In the past I've attended two other reviews: Photo Lucida, in Portland, is the best of the smaller regional reviews, Fotofest, in Houston, is an enormous, overly intense experience. Each time I attend one of these events I'm struck by the same feelings...it's exhausting (and not part of my nature) to get myself out among so many strangers, all of us trying to make connections.

Over time, I've gotten used to the format of the experience and that has helped. My presentation method has been slimmed down to an easily carried portfolio box. The prints are standardized in terms of the size of the paper and how the work fits on it - basically removing any unwanted distractions. I've got a business card and a solid promotional leave-behind. The "review" is a 20 minute slot during which you've got to find the table, introduce yourself, unpack your stuff, give a short description of the work, have them turn the pages/flip the prints, answer their questions, take a few notes, ask your questions and pack up when the buzzer rings. Fun huh?

I decided to put myself through this process because I felt it was time for this new body of work to leave the studio and start its path into the world. However, now that I'm here, that old uneasiness returns. Part of it is the monetization of what used to be a fundamental part of the art-making experience - talking about your work with curators, gallerists and collectors. That conversation and relationship was a part of how artists developed and how the art world saw itself. I'm left with so many questions: what if your work doesn't benefit from being summed up in 20 minutes...what if it's better to look at all the work laid out at once...what if they've already seen 10 people and their brains are mush?

On the upside, I've met many great photographers in just a few days, which is one of the best end results of these experiences - that connection to a greater group. The Sunday afternoon event was an open portfolio review where all the participants got space to show their work and I thoroughly enjoyed wandering around meeting people whose work I liked and discussing it with them. There was a real mix of expertise levels and that was interesting as well.

So, is it worth it? I don't know...sometimes it's about movement...even when you don't exactly know where you want to go. We'll see...

Here are a few of the photographers I met:

Torrie Groening: she had been a print maker for over two decades and the work I saw was mixed media with layers of painting and photography - you can tell she has a strong sense of how to work with color. I loved the delicate quality of the work. She had traveled from Vancouver, Canada

Wendy Sacks: interesting body of work featuring photographs of children semi-submerged in water. There was a lush quality to the prints and I especially was drawn to the reflections that created patterns throughout.

Bobby Lee: he had both what I would call commercial/glossy fashion style portraits as well as a beautiful set of subtle landscapes. Additionally, he had hand bound his portfolio with pull out pages...very impressive.

Adam D. Gerlach: he was from Santa Barbara (Brooks Institute) and had a beautiful set of black and white intensely dark landscapes. Stylish work, abstracted with good design.

If only...what I need to become a "real" artist

What does it take to become a "real" artist?

How about if I move to an artist loft...that would do it right? By moving to a big space with no walls, and windows that look out onto a lot of other buildings, that will mean I'm dedicating myself to my art! This might work, but only if I get organized, really make art non-stop, network and promote my art.

I'll just take a year off and devote it to my art - this might actually work - but only if I really concentrate my efforts, get organized and hardcore about my commitments.

I'll buy a new camera/book/paper/film/lens/technique and that will be moving forward - but only if I actually use the new stuff to make interesting work and then get organized and start promoting the work.

Move to Paris... NY...? Take a class... a workshop...?

Here's the thing, some of these things actually do work. I've been energized by new techniques and I know that being in the right locale can make a difference. But, my general feeling is that often we're in the midst of pretending that "if only" we were very different, or in very different circumstances then all of the hard stuff would fall away and it would magically work. Let's face it Badessari became an significant artist while teaching public school in San Diego - Matt Black is an amazing photographer and he still lives and works in the California Central Valley.

There might be a different location, circumstance or whatever that would help you be a better artist, but if those things aren't around - then you've just got to work with what you've got. Plus there's something to be said for having restrictions. Look at Prince's second film - or the new Star Wars trilogy. The bottom line is, it's important to remember that more (or different) is not always better. 

New Year's Resolutions

When I was in my mid-twenties I worked on an ill-fated film project where a young man died. One of the things that I remember most about the experience was the shock I had as I watched the sun come up the next morning and the birds start singing...and realized that the world just keeps going. No matter what happens, the next morning the sun comes up and "the play" goes on.

Each year, in December, I do a year-end inventory - a review of what happened that year and ask myself - "did I get my money's worth" and "what would I like to accomplish in the next year?" The truth is, that second part is done on faith, because you never know how long you have...so my question to you is "what are you going to do with the time you have?"

My New Year's resolutions for 2013 include: 

Meditation as a daily practice. This year I started meditating and it's been a profound experience. The first thing people ask me about meditation is "what do you do?" I want to reassure you, coming from someone who is very bad at quieting their mind, that it's not necessary to be perfect at meditation to still get a lot of value from it. I find it helps give me a little perspective on life. I start with counting my in and out breaths ("1, 2") and have worked up to 20 minutes with a faint bell each 5 minutes. Of course there's an app for it...I use the Insight Timer, which has a nice feature that lets you see others meditating around the world. 

Commit to engaging in your creative process on a daily basis. This is a hard one for many of us...but even if it's just spending a few minutes in a space you consider to be your "studio" you'll find that it connects you to your greater purpose...another method of having some perspective on life...noticing a trend?

Embrace change and instability as the essential element of life. It's taken me so long to even understand this one...but, in the past year, I've really grown to appreciate that much of our discomfort with change is our fear of it. Change is what you make of it and yes, having the attitude that change is not to be feared gives you a better perspective on life.

Finally, it's all about perspective...be thankful that you woke up this morning...life is short...enjoy it! 

Happy New Year to you all!

The Value of Encouragement

A few weeks ago I had lunch with one of my old college roomies - his name is Tim Barnes and he's an amazing artist - works primarily in animation. At one point he mentioned he really liked seeing my images on Facebook, and that no matter what the image was, it still had  a strong sense of me...for some reason this was really encouraging. 

I think it's because I've been trying to come up with a new way to make images as a visual artist. I want to move from taking images to making images - but I've been struggling with finding a voice for making this new method work aesthetically for me. His statement was really encouraging and gave me the confidence to realize that whatever I did - it would still be me...so I could stop over-thinking the process.  I started focusing on what my imagery is really about - what kinds of visual storytelling I'm drawn to. Within a week, I found I had come up with a whole new set of images that I think are an interesting new direction for me. 

The new work didn't come out of nowhere...it was supported by the fact that I'd been doing a lot of exploring lately - doing tons of photoshop-imaging exercises - learning new techniques. The problem was they were all this kind of macho "Just Do It"- "Red Bull" type of stuff (guys doing manly stuff on a basketball court) and I didn't visually relate at all...but I was learning new methods of working...lots of new tools - I just didn't know what to do with them. 

So, armed with my new tools, there was something very valuable in that simple affirmation. It gave me the confidence to stop worrying and get on with it (...sounds suspiciously like "Just Do It"). Sometimes we just need someone to tell us that it's okay to be ourselves - to trust ourselves. Too often we tend to discount positive feedback and only focus on the negative. Usually we already know what the negative is, so focusing on that...I don't know if it helps. Having someone give you the freedom and encouragement to be yourself, to trust yourself...it's not just empty words of praise. Coming from an honest viewpoint, it can really make a difference.  

p.s. My step daughter, Katie Osgood, did a great post on this type of experience as she discusses a workshop she took with someone she really admired as a visual artist. 

How To Be Creative Until You Die

Are there prime ages for creativity? I hope not...because I hate the thought of uncontrollable absolutes being out there (yes, I know the obvious one).  There are so many factors involved in creative output - a big one being the culture in which you live and ours tends to favor the young.  Being outside of the "chosen" set can be discouraging, but let's face it, it's better than the alternative.

My goal is to do more than just stay creative - I want to know how to actually reinvent my artwork continually throughout the rest of my life. The prevailing science seems to indicate that there are two main approaches to creativity - the "experimentalist" and the "conceptualist." So says a study called Age + Creativity by David W. Galeson. In the study, he looks at a wide range of creativity, from art to science, and concludes "my work suggests that it is the characteristics of the individual that determine the shape of the creative life cycle. This implies that our opportunities for creativity are not dictated by our professions, but are determined by our own choices and abilities."

Looking at these two very different approaches to creativity, which do you think you are? The experimentalist is constantly on the search, but never quite attaining that perfect work. The process becomes the important part. They usually have a lot of things going and find that the "goal" keeps moving forward - the more they know, they more that want to know and generally have a lifetime of exploring. This is in contrast with the conceptualist, for them it is the idea which becomes paramount. That flash of insight, which is often planned minutely, and then the process of production is almost an after thought. This type tends to have those big splashes...but after that...not so much. I'm not sure if we can choose which type we want to be - but hey, why not give it a shot? 

I think life-long creativity has certain elements:

• Risk...you must be willing to take a risk, to be uncomfortable, to risk looking foolish or awkward or even (especially) stupid! Turning off that "voice" in your head usually helps. 

• Change, which often rides with its friend Risk.  As we get older we get more established - we can end up using the same set of solutions. Some of that is self-preservation so we don't have to reinvent the wheel every day, but if we're not careful, our avoidance of change can stop our growth. On the other hand, it's not enough to gobble up the latest trends and move with them - find a balance that allows you to bring in the best of the new and blend it with the strengths you already have. 

• Obsession. It's been my experience that, once I get serious about a goal, then solutions start to present themselves. It's not that the solutions weren't always there, but in the act of identifying the goal...we start to understand what we're looking for.

• Persistance...just sticking with the process even after failing more than a few times. This goes with a willingness to work hard, to push yourself.

• Be An Outsider - beginner's mind if you will. Being a "newby" with just enough information to do something, but not so much that you start limiting yourself, is a great way to stay continuously creative.

Good luck...let me know how it goes...

In Praise of Small Towns: Rediscovering Your Roots

For the past week I've been visiting my hometown and it has enveloped my bruised grown-up self with a warm mix of community and nostalgia. It's a small town in northern California, the kind where ex-cheerleaders slowly go to seed over the decades and your friends think you're more brilliant than you really are. Where the slow lazy days of summer get you out of your car and onto a bike. Where strangers say hello as they pass by on the street and everyone gives up the right of way at an intersection...except for young guys in pickup trucks...but they're that way everywhere. Most days are highlighted with the pleasant surprise of running into friends or relatives and you often find a bag of home grown tomatoes on your doorstep from a neighbor.  Hard to believe? I totally agree...but it does exist and I'm being wooed by it. 

When I was growing up I couldn't wait to leave and get on with my life. Now I return two to three times a year on holidays, or when needed. As a kid I was oblivious to the incredible beauty of the surroundings. An agricultural center (rice and almonds), the fields put on a rhythmic and constant series of changing views. Over time, each visit home was also punctuated by pilgrimages to remembered sites. As the years went by the sites evolved and recording those changes became a more central interest in my creative life. 

What I love about L.A. is how much variety it has. On one street I can go through Japan, Korea, Mexico, El Salvador, India...it's a movable feast. I like being able to find the last letterpress printer, seeing great art whenever I want and the first run of that obscure foreign film. It's been my home for a long time and I love telling its stories. 

But small towns have indie bookstores, accessible music scenes, real bike paths and a sense of connection to the people around you that I find soothing to the soul. It's said "you can't go home again" but in many ways home itself moves forward to meet you as you continue on your own path. New faces inhabit most of my old haunts...but the former imprint does remain and so the experience becomes this interesting blend of the new and old - connecting to my younger (wilder) self without the intensity of the actual experience.


I fully understand that a big part of my gratitude at this homecoming comes from being somewhere other than the stage of my recent troubles...but what I've truly gotten from this experience is the reminder that there are many ways to live our lives...with many paths to happiness. It was very important to realize that my current life is not the only one - in a way it's much like my experience with creativity - learning to go beyond the idea of reality that my brain has mapped out becomes a pathway to peace and happiness.

How To Stay Creative in Tough Times

I've been in education for the past 15 years...and it's no secret that times are tough for the arts in education. Recently, that issue has struck much closer to home and I'm in the process of trying to figure it out. So many questions immediately came to my mind: how am I going to stay creative, what happens now,  and more importantly, how do I make sense of this experience - give it meaning?  I think we all  struggle with what happens in difficult times - economic or otherwise.  Here's a few things that I'm trying, which hopefully will help you stay creative through the curve balls life throws us.

The first one, oddly enough, has been gratitude. I feel grateful for everything I've gotten in the past, but I also feel grateful for the sense of connection I have to everyone around me. I'm not the only person that this is happening to . . . in many ways it's sort of the human condition. Filling yourself with a sense of gratitude tends to create a sense of solidness, which is what I find I really need right now.

Next, what to do with the feelings?  Well maybe try not avoiding them. The weird thing about creativity is that, while I don't think it's a fragile flower,  I do think it's a muscle and it's somehow connected to a sense of openness and a willingness to stay aware. So, not avoiding the feelings -  experiencing them, is part of staying present.  I'm realizing that it's okay. . . it's okay to feel not okay.

Finally, finding a way to make the experience meaningful has led me to ask, can I make art about the experience? That's my next goal for my growth as an artist - to find a way to be more personal about the stories I'm telling. It seems to me that telling a story about finding one's way in a difficult world is something that we all need.

I thought I'd finish up with some thoughtful and encouraging quotes - Winston Churchill was a real fighter, and in tough times that's what we need...so I'm starting with him:


"If you're going through hell...keep going."

"A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."

"Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm."
Winston Churchill

"The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any."

"Don't wait around for other people to be happy for you. Any happiness you get you've got to make yourself."

Alice Walker

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."
Anatole France

"If we don't change, we don't grow. If we don't grow, we aren't really living."
Gail Sheehy

"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."
Martin Luther King, Jr.

"To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom."
Bertrand Russell

"March on. Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path."
Khalil Gibran

"We are always in transition. If you can just relax with that, you'll have no problem."
Trungpa Rinpoche

"Nothing and no one is fixed. Whether the reality of change is a source of freedom for us or a source of horrific anxiety makes a significant difference."
Pema Chodron



I chose this week's image because The Blue Bird of Happiness was one of my favorite books as a kid.  Blue Bird flour is a prime ingredient in Navajo fry bread (which always makes me happy). Here's an article about it. 

Kamikaze Night

This weekend I'll be participating in July 2012 Kamikaze, a series of one-night shows by thirty-one artists at PØST space in downtown Los Angeles.  I'm completely looking forward to it and have been determined to leave myself open to whatever might happen when I actually see the work up on the walls. I'll admit, it's been a bit of a bumpy process (see last week's post) but I think I've rediscovered something that's been missing in my art-making experience for quite a while.

One of the reasons people tend to wax lyrically over their art school days...or grad school days, is having that experience of creation for its own sake, followed by the ability to discuss it in a public environment. Currently, when I have an exhibition scheduled, it's on an established body of work that we've already decided is worthy of viewing by the public. Since it's photography,  I would have already sent it off to the framers ages ago...waiting until the absolute deadline and having my framer (thanks Alex!) look at me with a slightly exasperated air. But the bottom line is, in many gallery settings, it can become about marketing and not about making art.

This experience has been refreshing in so many ways because it's the antithesis of that. The exhibition is one night...so it's up and then down in the same afternoon/evening. And while I'm having  a bit of the "everyone will think this is stupid" butterflies...the truth is the only folks willing to come down to East LA on a Saturday evening are friends and family...so I doubt anyone will slice and dice me. 

What I've realized is that this has been an enormously rewarding experience because it has given me a chance to put my focus back into the art (plus it helps that I really work well with a deadline). These days being able to have the experience of trying something new and getting to explore it in a public setting just doesn't happen that much. We're all so concerned about marketing, social media, branding...you name it...the art-making tends to get a bit lost in the mix at times. 

Yup - I had a ton of ideas for the show, everything from turning it into a big darkroom and having people process their images to just hanging my ideas on the wall...who knows, I could still do that...but, the main benefit was being thrown back into an environment that allowed me to move forward as I focused my energies on just making something. How to apply this to everyday life? I think there's many ways this can be replicated - a big one that I'd like to explore is the idea of a co-operative that was dedicated to the creative jump - where a group of individuals found ways to push each other to go beyond what they might have done on their own...we'll see...

In terms of Saturday's show...I'm still working on it, so please show up and see what happened.

Saturday, July 21st, 7:00pm - 9:00pm

PØST, 1904 East Seventh Place, Los Angeles (quick note, it's a smaller street off of 7th Street, east of Alameda)

Kamikaze Show Blog listing of artists and projects. 

Misery, Beauty and the Creative Process

There's no denying it, I'm miserable...unhappy...grumpy...sneezy...oh, wait - no I haven't become the seven dwarves. Instead I'm doing something totally miserable, spending the morning trying to make sense of a new set of images (none of which are in this post). It's hard to decide if it's worse to not have any images you like, or to have fallen in love with several unrelated images - which then could become just another dead end.

Our mythology about the creative process includes all of the above experiences, but when you're going through them, understanding that doesn't really make it easier. I've got two images I really like...both completely unrelated to each other and I'm trying to figure out what they mean, what they can lead to, and where to go next. Making sense of our images becomes part of the process of figuring out the kinds of stories we want to tell. 

Part of the pressure is that I've got a show in a week - a small experimental space - and I've committed to really using the experience for the process of art - rather than just another marketing stint. I started with a strong idea - actually a word - resonance - one of those delightfully elastic words that roams around from science to spirituality. My connection to it was in reference to Beauty. Yup, I'm still trying to use beauty in my work.  I'd been reading a book my mother gave me, Creative Authenticity, 16 Principles to Clarify and Deepen Your Artistic Vision, and the first chapter is about searching for beauty.

"Art and beauty are about that inner resonance. It isn't the subject matter that holds us. Some inexplicable reaction stops us, and we find ourselves connected with something other than our self."

Beauty is like that great quote on pornography - we can't define it, but we know it when we see it. I want my work to have that quality, to become a space in which to rest, something quite removed from the rest of the world. On my living room wall I've got a painting by my mother which has that quality. The scene is simple, just a pathway in a rather wild, natural space. The brushstrokes are lose and a bit wild themselves, abstracted enough that I find myself just staring down that path and transfixed in a meditative state.

So, that's what I'm looking to create...meditative, transcendent, transportive moments. That's a lot of weight for one image to carry, but having the word to grasp onto is a great place to start.  The problem is that now, looking at these two images, I can't really figure out what is making them so good. Ironic? Yup!

Is it the subject matter?  Method of printing?  Perhaps it's the kiss of death to look so hard for meaning, for connection? One of the first mistakes I can say I'm making is trying too hard to have a result - the true irony here is that I found the images I love through experimentation and then the second I have success in that method, I switch to its polar opposite by trying to control everything...ssshhhish! 

I don't know...but I'd like just ONE more image that does it for me...NOW....

Perhaps it's unwise to bully my muse?

Ah, well...