July 24

July 23

Video Work in Progress

Today was our first day of shooting for "All Good Things Will Come to You Soon." After months of dreaming, weeks of planning, and days of bossing around interns, the first day of shooting has finally arrived and ended. I would like this piece to be a surprise, so I am not planning on putting clips of work-in-progress, but I would like to comment on thoughts that have come up in this process. First of all, I am collaborating with actors, artists who have certain ideas about things are portrayed, etc. Today, my actor was very young, being directed by my young interns while I oversaw the process and results. The scene is supposed to represent the struggle to create something perfect (perfect for a vision you have, whether clear or not). It is also supposed to represent how this struggle is a life-long quest, as opposed to a foot race.

So the scene depicts a young woman trying to make a drawing. Each drawing isn't quite right, but she is satisfied each is a step toward that goal. I am listening to my assistant direct her, things like, "Look happy about that. Was that a good line? Should that other line be different?" She is looking at the drawing with contentment, every now and then giving a little smile, or biting her lip. That is what acting like an artist should look like, I suppose. That image will read as "real."

When I make work (here and here), I don't seem to have such a face. It is an intent, intense face, mostly with pursed brows, pressed lips, leaning on my hand distraughtly. I never feel that euphoria I suppose everyone imagines artists have... it's hard work. It's draining. It's frustrating. But what else would I do with me time-- what would be the point? I don't know what I would do without it.

July 22

July 21

4-H Fair: Showing small-town pride in your children

There is a phenomenon us city dwellers have heard of (not in a detailed kind of way, but in "the name sounds familiar" kind of way) and that is the 4-H club. I was in a 2-H club in high school--the history and humanities club, but I am pretty sure it's not the same thing. 4-H has something to do with raising animals while in school. Even when you read about it, it is fraught with vagueness, like this giant, inside joke that city folk specifically aren't supposed to understand.

I did know there were supposed to be animals, and as that is my favorite part of the LA County Fair, I tricked two of my NYC friends (who also find themselves inexplicably in Indiana) into going. As we were later going to a play, they asked me with dubious arch of eyebrow, "so, should we go there for an hour, then off to our play?" An hour? But what if it is wonderful? What if it is the best thing there is? (Keep in mind, I almost invited them to the Fort Ouiatenon Spring Festival, which ended up being boring except for jumping into the river. So I was a little worried about talking it up too much.) Just in case of a bust, we also arranged to have drinks between fair and play, and the three hours I asked them to set aside seemed more logical.

When we arrived, we couldn't help noticing the smallness of the county fairgrounds. The only county fairs I have ever been to have been in counties with populations as big as this state, so I should have expected it. I became afraid. We walked through the booth area. There were only six booths. I became very afraid. Then we saw the baby animal tent and all was well. It's amazing how baby animals melt all hearts equally, even those of the coolest New Yorkers. Here you see my beautiful friend becoming so overcome by the cuteness of a goat, that she cannot pose for a photograph. As least she is there for size comparison, and as a reference point for delight-reaction.

We ended up spending the three hours looking at the animals, cakes, and science projects. We also watched a horse-ridding demonstration. In case you haven't googled 4-H by now, it is basically a fair of agricultural and craft/home-making demonstrations by school-aged children, so they can grow up to be smart in rural knowledge. You know, all that stuff city-folk have forgotten (like milking cows, slaughtering chickens, baking pies, sewing dresses, racing horses, castrating sheep, etc.).

Some of it seemed so surreal. For example, all the kids were wearing helmets on the horses (while helmets are not required or encouraged in this whole state-- I have definitely left California). No sooner had we commented on it, when a running horse fell and half rolled on his young rider. [I thought, oh no, not again. Luckily, there was a doctor closer to her than me.] Other surrealnesses were in our plain ignorance. In the sheep pens, we noted some were sheared, others not, and some seemed to be dressed like klansmen. I'm sure there is a reason. We are still learning the local language and something has been lost in translation.

Blog Guilt

I had meant to never let more than two days go by without making a performance for this site. (I didn't want a whole line of graves stone posts. People will get the wrong idea.) Let's say I have been reserving my performances for private audiences! But I didn't mean to let so much time pass! My excuses are quite real (lame)-- I finally took pictures to create an entry, but didn't have the upload cord with me. I had to write a job description for my fall student assistant. I had to run auditions. I had to go to that bar. I had to go see that naked play (Some Men). Eventually, I will find that cord and get that post up about small town cuteness. I promise. I don't know how many more graves will go by before you see it, but it will happen.

My favorite albums I am listening to around town are MGMT and the Moods. I am late to the party on MGMT (click here to see the HD music video-- it made me buy the album. Warning: long time to load and some hedonistic activities), as many of my favorite Internet personalities wrote about them months ago. But at least I have learned the error of my ways. The Moods are friends of mine in LA, and I am happy to say I was one of the first to that party, hearing their early practice sessions on an iPod, seeing most of their first shows, and I got the CD before it was released. Yes, that's how connected I am.

I only mention the albums for something to post, but there are days when I feel like good music gets me through the day. It's probably why I was so excited by this little "Mix Tape" thing in my sidebar over to the right. I can find any song I never owned and make fabulous music. People have been doing this on MySpace forever, I know, with weird little box-MP3 player things. But this actually makes it seem like a mixed tape, referencing the fine art of selecting songs and orders and the tone of the whole tape. I was never good at these things, because I would slap together an odd mix of music that made me feel certain ways (just for the glory of these songs making me feel things on command) and I tended to put contrasting emotions right next to each other. Offspring's Smash right next to Coldplay's Yellow followed by Madonna. I'll have to find that tape and try to recreate it one of these days. After I find a tape player.

July 20

July 19

July 18

July 17

July 16

July 15

Small town photos

Carving of a bird with a thought bubble containing a name and a Masonic symbol.
My foot at bottom for size and texture.
Pine Hills State Park, 2008

I hate to always say something good with something bad but I am going to give a couple here.

I was talking to the library archivist today and she was saying these areas I have been hiking have been popular destinations for more than one hundred and fifty years. They would load up in the back of a wagon, take all morning to get there, have a picnic, and ride back by evening.

We went on a marvelous hike before J left town again at the Big Pine State Park (right next to Shades). The above was taken at one of these ancient picnicking spots. It is no wonder that the cliff is covered in ancient and charming graffiti, from generations of wily youths. How many of my students are off doing that same thing right now?

So my complaint is about the photos I took (using a funny camera, I admit, but still. More here). I used to get very good pictures developed and printed at Target, and for some (dumb) reason, I was convinced that Walmart's mail-in service would be similar. No. Probably the worst prints I've ever seen, and the CD was hardly well done enough for heavy Photoshopping for the Internet. Lesson continually learned: you get what you pay for.

Another contrasting set of random events.

My step-mom had to put one of her/our cats to sleep today. She was sixteen or so. That's a lot for a cat, but it is still sad.

And I am confirmed for a solo show in January in Georgia. I am now confirmed as a nationally showing artist.

July 14

I Could Touch the Sky

Fresh food and fireflies

I went to prepare my lunch sandwich just now. It might sound banal, but there is something very appealing about cleaning up the dishes and preparing a delicious sandwich. I have been using the beautiful romaine leaves from the plants grown before I left for N.Y. I was surprised to find these perfect romaine heads on my return. The corn did not reach knee high the month I was gone (clearly, hefty fertilizers are involved in those fields), and the zucchini (normally a garden champion) succumbed to the attacks by the weeds. But my beautiful little lettuce was thriving. I only planted one, and looking at it, I think it would make a good salad for one. To spread out the delight it gives me, I am reserving its leaves for sandwiches-- two per day. When I went to pluck my two leaves, I found this little fellow, reminding me of the videos I had prepared for you, waiting silently on my camera. I apologize for the delay, and will post them now, post-haste.

The fireflies here seem to not trust the dark. They are all gone by 10:00 P.M. or so, and with a 9:20 sunset, it is not a lot of time to see their full, lightening spectacle. Here is what they look like. Kind of ugly at first, then when I realized what they were, I thought he was quite a pretty fellow.

Here is an example of their flying/lighting action.

This video, taken at 8:30, is at the height of their activity in my front yard. Your challenge: count how many you find.

July 13

July 12

Those Midwesterners

When I moved here, several people (who had moved here before me) said they thought people here were very nice and I would be pleasantly surprised by them. It is true that they smile at you on the street (they do this in California too, but I couldn't get anyone to smile at me in Rochester)-- well, maybe half do. And when it was obvious our lawn mover was broken, a neighbor lent us one. That was nice.

But mostly I've found people had very poor manners, meaning they tend to be rude, which I will always extrapolate into not-nice. It's been hard to explain, because I didn't have any good examples. Until today.

Kristen is in the basement of the antique store. It is 4:45 P.M.

Old Lady: "Is anyone down here?"
K: "Yes."
Old Lady: "Oooooh."
K: "Are you closed?"
Old Lady: "Not yet."

Old Lady turns out the lights. Kristen makes a noise of surprise, then stumbles through the dark basement full of rusty crap towards the stairs.

Old Lady: "Were you done?"
K: "No, but I guess I am now."
Old Lady: "Was there something there you wanted?"
K: "Don't know, I can't see now." Reaches stairs.
Old Lady: "I could turn the lights back on."
K: "Don't bother."