50th post and beyond...

I just realized that this will be my 50th post for my blog. I've been writing off and on since 2004, first with Myspace, then with with Blogger and finally (drumroll please): I have a website up.

It isn't anything overly fancy or special, but I decided to go ahead and secure the domain and upload Wordpress. I found a theme I like that will work for the time being, before I change anything. I'm proud that I'm moving forth with my original plans and making them happen.

The website will work now to collect my thoughts and showcase some travel photographs. I might change the theme later once I start graduate school to put emphasis on my new studies.

Also, I have finally updated my Etsy and listed the first item on there. I have created some new little booklets in a set.

I may or may not update this blog as often as the website, so for your information is the following:

http://www.redhotflame.com
http://redhotflame.etsy.com

Thanks for reading...

My feet won't quit...

...the lid is stuck, the screw won't fit. My days off are filled with errands and cleaning.

Slowly but surely, I've been hanging my favorite photographs I've taken in my travels over the years on the walls of my new place. A few paintings are making their way onto my walls as well. I have a framed Snoopy picture I got years ago in my kitchen. A cupcake themed apron I received for my birthday perks up the white walls near my stove.

I have my arts and crafts things organized into bins. I love any chance I get to haul those things out and work on projects. Lately, I've been hand-cutting my own stamps out of rubber and printing with them. I hope to add a mini Speedball press to my art supplies to help me print these stamps. I had initially found rubber stamp supplies in a Japanese bookstore in Los Angeles. Little cutting tools and mini slabs of rubber are not unlike cutting linoleum or wood blocks in printmaking in design. However, the ease of cutting the surfaces makes it such an enjoyable process.

I remember when I took a Precious Metal Clay workshop in Tennessee four years ago, I loved creating little stamps out of hard rubber erasers to press into rolled out PMC. The designs were crisp but also had a handmade aesthetic.

It's been gratifying to take an opportunity out of my busy schedule to work on something artistic. I'm very sure it's keeping my brain healthy as I meander through my day to day requirements and activities.

Eric and I are taking a trip to Arkansas next week. It fit a series of parameters for a vacation for the both of us. We wanted a road trip to a place neither of us had visited. He had an opportunity to visit friends in Conway, and thus a vacation was born. We found an affordable bed and breakfast north of Little Rock and we'll take day trips to other places around Arkansas for an extended weekend. Hopefully more photos for my wall of travel pics will be extended.

Coming up for myself, I am hoping to visit Los Angeles with my sister to visit my grandmother. Trying to squeeze this in before school starts seems like a viable option. With a full-time job and 2 classes of graduate school, I will probably have little time for travels, let alone a social life. However, I'm very excited at beginning this portion of my life. I love school. I love education. I would have been a professional student if the option had been extended to me.

On the other hand, I'm grateful for my time off between my undergraduate and graduate degrees. I'm glad that a semblance of my life makes a bit more sense than before at this juncture.

To say I'm happy could be a simplistic or loaded statement. But I am very happy indeed.

Here is one of my favorite photos from Amsterdam in 2007. Their bikes are rad, to say the least...

Stop & Start: Progress

A few hectic weeks.

Famished thoughts and recollections.

I'm all moved into the new apartment in Dallas. Within weeks of being promoted to a manager at the bookstore where I currently work, I find myself getting transferred to another store, but thankfully in North Dallas, and therefore a closer commute.

I'm in the middle of deciding where to go to graduate school, but alas monetary reasons have convinced me to go to UNT, where I hope to specialize in Digital Image Management. I still have a soft spot for Young Adult librarianship, general library research, and the possibilities of working within public and academic libraries. However, I think working in the digital realm will satisfy my artistic side, especially as I pursue work within an art museum setting.

I still have a million ideas buzzing in my head art-wise, but I've had to take a break to allow myself the time to move in properly and maintain a semblance of organization as I adapt to a new life. However, these adjustments do not lack positive things; I'm elated that things are beginning to come together. Days may not be perfect, but they seem to make a bit more sense.

I'm excited that the fragments of myself are coming together to create some kind of cohesive whole. Perhaps this will change later, but I will welcome it. I feel more comfortable with the idea that things will evolve.

As I continue to get settled, I will go forth and become more ambitious artistically again.

Stay tuned.

My nebula.

It is time for a bit of "start again".

I will be a resident of Dallas in less than a week.

I have been accepted to all the graduate schools where I applied. Now, I'm deciding where to attend locally.

I'm currently listening to French Pop music (check out Dumas!).

I completed the book Columbine, by Dave Cullen, which was astonishing. I also finished Drums, Girls, and Dangerous Pie by Jordan Sonnenblick to add to my Young Adult reads. I am currently reading I Am Hutterite by Mary-Ann Kirkby, about a former Canadian journalist who lived in a Hutterite Colony in Canada until 10 years of age, when her family decided to start a new life outside the colony. So far, it's been fascinating and reminds me vaguely of The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls.

I have taken a small break on creating art but will begin again once my studio is set up.

My internship is winding down and I will (sadly) reclaim my Sundays this upcoming month.

That is all.

New work.

In between a promotion at my job, cleaning out and packing in order to move, graduate school this-and-that, and an internship, I've managed to actually work on some new art. This piece, like its predecessors, is a product of a slow process. To me, cutting tiny pieces of paper with various colors and textures and composing them on a blank canvas is therapeutic. Seeing the work unfold over the last few weeks has been a tremendous joy to me.

This particular new piece is intended to be a representation of something jewel-like. In my frustration of not having the ability to fully work in metal, this piece is supposed to look like baubles arranged in a general space. The strips, hopefully, appear as facets or at least create the appearance of something three-dimensional.

For scale, the entire canvas is only 12 inches by 12 inches. So, while I'm not producing art like crazy, I will continue in this vein and maybe, just maybe, move the concept onto something more three-dimensional :)

To be continued.

I miss hitting metal.

It has been 2 1/2 years since I've had access to my former school's metalsmithing studio. Granted, I have used my jeweler's saw and a few other hand tools in order to make some random things in my garage studio. However, I've created nothing of substance and miss the tactile qualities of hammering metal greatly.

Something about hammering metal in an actual space that has a fine coat of metal dust and gear lubricant seems less obtrusive than hitting metal in my garage. The concrete floor of where my half-assed studio is now just echoes the blow of metal with a ring not unlike hitting a tuning fork.

I have friends who still work in metal and ultimately I'm envious that they can work often in the media I enjoy. Perhaps some of it is timing, since I've been pre-occupied with things that do not involve metal at all. Part of the envy is also that I finally removed my diploma from the Fed-Ex envelope that was sitting behind a bookshelf and actually framed it. My diploma declares proudly: "Bachelor of Fine Arts Metalsmithing and Jewelry Magna Cum Laude". I look at the framed piece of paper fondly now.

In other news, I've been accepted to 3 of the 5 schools I applied for graduate school and hope to hear from the other 2 soon. A portion of me is torn about where I'll end up in the next few years, but I feel confident about the progress.

As I move forward into exploring a career and another degree relatively unrelated to my past studies, I hope that working in metal can be slowly incorporated back into my life. Perhaps as a solace and something to ground my creativity.

For now, I continue to work in paper, for its accessibility, but I still plan to dream in silver :)

Thank you for not damaging me.

I am continuing to work on the ankle-deep paper trail called graduate school applications. However, I am finishing the last few essays and applications to UNT and TWU as I write this. Wish me luck.

Lots of bits and pieces are in the mix. I've been reading like a maniac and just completed This Book is Overdue! by Marilyn Johnson. It is a book on librarianship, specifically contemporary issues and practices within librarianship. I flew through this book, loving the chance to absorb all the aspects of librarianship that will become part of my future. Enlightening, as much as informative, I don't know if I've ever become more confident about a decision. Specifically, this book made me realize the positive decision to pursue library science in graduate school. Perhaps I will change my mind once I'm in the crux of the degree. However, half the battle was getting up the proverbial mountain to see the next valley to conquer. I'm proud to put a flag at the top before descending into the newness of graduate school.

I'm still working on a new project based around my experiences in the information world. This will include, hopefully, a zine of my own creation, a new blog, and links to information of interest in the world of library science. Stay tuned, I hope to develop this into the summer.

I have also been working on creating some handmade books. A new design below is based on the soil stratigraphy I studied in archaeology as an undergraduate student. This should be coming to Etsy very soon, once I develop a few more designs.

See Jane make books!



Thank you for encouraging me.

Dearly Devoted Girlfriends

This past week was marked with two diametrically different music shows for me. The first show was Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at House of Blues and the second was The Dillinger Escape Plan at The Granada. Of course while enjoying the shows, I could not help but do a little people-watching.

Seen at House of Blues:

A guy in a red shirt near me swaying so violently to the music, I thought he was about to head butt me to the floor. I kept inching backwards onto some unsuspecting girl in fear of getting the lights knocked out of me. During the middle of the show, the same guy's girlfriend appears out of nowhere holding onto a cocktail in a plastic cup. She practically climbs around him like a stripper pole, facing me and sneering at me with painted black eyelids. She's also not only taller than me but her boyfriend and her stripper antics almost prevent me from seeing some of the songs in the show. Needless to say, I was not amused when she disappeared and then pulled the same thing later in the show. Same pose, same sneer.

At least the 6-foot something Dude Bros at the beginning of the show who thought nothing of standing on me moved further away, despite not noticing my petite stature squinting up at them in disdain.

Seen at The Granada:

A doe-eyed and petite redhead with a nose ring holding her boyfriend's shirt and jacket while in the testosterone-fueled pit. She remains unflinching to the people shoved in her way and she cowers once or twice to prevent an accidental blow to the face. She is sympathetic to her boyfriend even when he throws himself to the crowd. He emerges from the swirling chaos back to her, looking like he's about to vomit. She pats his long-haired head affectionately, which belies the emotionless look on her face. I am standing behind the barrier right next to the pit, a step above the spinning assortment of people. Yet here she is, in her summer weather clothing looking tiny and pixie-like in the storm. As the smoke machine spills out off the stage, she looks frightened and concerned about her boyfriend who re-emerges from the mist looking battle-worn. She whispers something into his ear and he nods, before putting his head between his knees. She exits, but returns with a red plastic cup filled with water and two straws. He drinks gratefully and sweetly brushes her hair away from her eyes.

A precious scene in a moment that lacks all preciousness.

Sparkles on Horses

I rarely write blogs about musicians, but I am saddened by the apparent suicide of Mark Linkous, also known as Sparklehorse. The music is quirky, sometimes dark, sometimes sad, but generally intricate little gems of songs. I never had the opportunity to see Sparklehorse live. It's hard to even classify myself a raving fan. With that said, I don't mind a few vulnerable moments to explain that Sparklehorse affected me profoundly during some dark times.

When I was a freshman in college, I had a rough first semester. I think generally, most freshmen have a difficult time due to college acclimation, especially first year art school students. I worked myself ragged juggling a job and full-time college. I was taking the art basics, but the ones with multiple projects that weed out future art school students. Needless to say, I did not get the freshman 15, I lost weight. I had permanent purple bags under my eyes. I fell sick after the first semester with horrible tension headaches and an earache that would not leave. I was elated to have a month off for the winter holiday, but found myself deeply depressed and physically hurting.

Part of me was unsure of my art school path, while the other part was just recovering from all the stress. I used to sit in the bathtub for hours at a time and just cry. I would drag a stereo to my bathroom and let it sit on the toilet while I sat in the tub. It's a Wonderful Life had come out the year before and it was on heavy rotation on that stereo. It's easy for me, in retrospect, to make allusions to Margot Tenenbaum telling her mother Etheline that her TV was tied to the radiator when it was pointed out that it might be unsafe. Regardless, the stereo sat on the toilet next to my bathtub, allowing me to hear music that let me relieve all the stress and pain I was feeling. "Sea of Teeth" and "Eyepennies" became themes for what I was feeling: lonely, hurt, rejected, tired, but hopeful. I was hopeful to move beyond the discomfort physically and emotionally.

As the new year approached, I began to see a brighter future. On New Year's Eve, I wrote a long note about exorcising my pains and dark feelings. I burned it up in my sink with a lighter and collected the ashes in an envelope. At the stroke of midnight, I flung open the back door to let the old year out and released the ashes into the night. I opened the front door to let the new year in and breathed in the cold air, feeling relief.

A year later, it's the end of the first semester of my sophomore year and I've completed my first painting course, a beginning watercolor class. The studio is peaceful and clean, with skylights that allow the watercolors to appear gorgeous and rich in the natural light. I'd made some friends in the class and found myself more artistically, perhaps a direction that I had hoped to improve in the future. My last class, a sunny but cold day, I'm walking to my car with the north wind blowing my hair into tangles, I begin to feel sad yet again. With another winter holiday approaching and little opportunity to explore my art, I was afraid to let myself fall into yet another winter depression. I get into my car and crank up the heater and begin to blast a Sparklehorse song that was both appropriate and humbling: "Sick of Goodbyes". The song allows me to drum my fingers on the steering wheel and sing the lyrics at the top of my lungs. Catharsis for my raging inner self.

Years later, I'm out of college and on a road trip to Lubbock. I typically make compilations for my travels, especially road trips, where the drives are long, monotonous, and lonely. I was angry about rejection again, but glad to be on the road. For a pure sense of irony, I'd put "Someday I Will Treat You Good" on my compilation. It's a catchy song, despite the deadpan lyrics and reminded me of the emotional strain I had been feeling for months.

This past summer when I had an opportunity to hear and see the collaboration between Sparklehorse, Danger Mouse, and David Lynch via NPR, I was saddened that it was in a label dispute and would not be available for release until the details were worked out. However, having the chance to hear the MP3s, I was once again reminded of the genius of Sparklehorse. Some of the songs echoed in my head all summer, reminding me of the past, reminding me that I had grown so much as a person.

The reasoning for why people do the things they do can be unclear. However, I don't mind admitting that Sparklehorse was a part of my burgeoning adult livelihood. Despite the sadness of losing a frustrated but magical musician, it is in my hopes that Sparklehorse not live in nostalgia, but in those who continue to appreciate the music and the man behind the music. It will remind me of my past, but also of my future that has yet to come.

It's initial.

With March comes a lot of new things: more paperwork to be completed for graduate school, saving money, working on art, and somehow squeezing in a social life in the process.

My brain has been "go-go gadget" lately and it is yet another time to hit the ground running.

First things first, I have successfully completed the initial evaluation of whether or not I met the basic requirements for graduate school at UNT. Somehow it tickles me that this was the last school where I submitted my application.

In other news, I've been working on creating some hand-bound books by starting off with simple journals. Slowly, some new concepts are coming to the surface and a changeover on both Etsy and blog-wise should be expected during the year.

I have some pursuits outside art, but unfortunately, I have to keep the lid on them until it is all finalized in the next few months.

Otherwise, amidst the artistic endeavors, I've been reading Just Kids by Patti Smith. The book has been a fantastic bedside table read. I only like to read a few chapters at a time to absorb it all. Essentially, the book is about the relationship between Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe and living in New York beginning in the late 60s. I have yet to complete it, but what I've read thus far is magical. It recalls so many aspects of the quintessential bohemian artist. However, it does not generalize the attitude, it specifies the need to create, the freedom of dress, the importance of what you read and conversations you have with others.

The book reminds me that many artistic individuals have been down the same path before and it's a well-worn road, but with room for other traveling souls looking for answers and a place to make things and share them.

My solace of late has been reminding myself that I've been able to keep it all together and continue to pursue what is important to me. There is a romanticized vision of artists who stay up at all hours working on their art, despite the day job and life's obligations. Perhaps I entrust myself to this vision, perhaps I oblige it occasionally. Regardless, it's a skeleton outline of the life I've created for myself and will continue to create.

Paper, Pulp, & Thread

After an industrious Saturday of random travels and opportunities to daydream about creating work, I had a Sunday of reflecting upon the practice of art.

One of Saturdays random travels included a trip to a paper supply store in Dallas, where I felt up papers of all types, colors, transparencies, and designs. I chose some brightly colored Fabriano sheets for future booklets I'm in the middle of designing (to be on Etsy this spring, I hope!) and was happy to see them wrapped up in crinkled brown paper, like goodies from a patisserie.

By evening, I had a semblance of sketches and notations written down in the mini notebook I tote around. The one that lets me gather the thoughts that seem to fall out of my ears like fruit dropping off trees before they hit the ground.

Sunday was another event-filled day at The Modern, where the students had a mid-point critique. There was also a talk about the new Warhol exhibition by artist James Gilbert, followed by the normal class session. In all three segments, I carried the aforementioned notebook, writing down things of interest.

One of the main concepts that occurred continuously throughout the day was this question: does accessibility and feasibility affect what an artist creates? Specifically, for me, is the fact that I do not create in metal currently directly correlated to the fact that I have no money to buy metals tools and further, no space to put them? Is working in paper-based media out of necessity?

A comment made during the student critique made an impression on me. To paraphrase: if you cannot accomplish a skill to create your ideas, come up with another way to do it. I began to consider my own current work and how I want to create smaller collages in conjunction with the monster ones I'm creating. The smaller collages, which would be no larger than a square foot, I envision, would be of gemstones or objects made in metal. Almost like the abstracted representations of things that I wish I could create in actuality.

I am finding it hilarious that paper and metal are so diametrically different. Consider how flame reacts to either, for example. One catches fire and burns up to ash, the other gets hot, changes color, and becomes malleable. I would never consider using glue for metal, but pasting is almost essential to paper-based media. Paper will eventually disintegrate, leaving fragments behind, while metal will last much longer.

It is in this quest that I hope to find more bits and pieces to create a cohesive whole, whether literally or conceptually.

If only I had a pyre, a phoenix would emerge.

It's always interesting when people and things from your past never fail to show up unexpectedly. I try to keep in mind that life is cyclical and that it overlaps constantly. Sometimes, it seems, there are lessons that need to be learned and if they are not learned the first time, they will come up time and time again.

Without being too specific, this has more or less happened to me recently. However, I think in the past, I would have been a lot happier to bury it all and then dust myself off before walking away. Some of the past circumstances and people that have seemingly shown up on my doorstep, I welcome, because it means that I can move on.

Art and reading have been my versions of escapism recently.

I just completed Julie Klausner's I Don't Care About Your Band: What I Learned from Indie Rockers, Trust Funders, Pornographers, Faux Sensitive Hipsters, Felons, and Other Guys I've Dated. To say I can relate is a bit of an understatement and correlates a bit with my current issues of people from my past coming back to haunt me. I was reminded of how the stupid things I've done merely make me human.

In the art realm, the new Andy Warhol: The Last Decade exhibition at The Modern Art Museum in Fort Worth is well worth the visit. It depicts Warhol's later work and his collaborations with Jean-Michel Basquiat and Francesco Clemente. What is so amazing about the exhibition is seeing how mature and unified Warhol's work became in his post-pop art years. There are lots of eye candy, color-wise, as Warhol was never known to shun color. However, the muted rorschach pieces are larger than life and have a spooky "is that painting watching me?" quality as you pass them.

With my own artwork, I'm still working on the same piece as before, not concerned about its slow progress. I ended up taking a week's break from working on it for what seemed like life spilling over and intersecting throughout the days. I began again last night, picking up where I last left off. My progress is below...

I began noticing that it has a flame-like quality to it. Originally, it was based on folds of fabric. However, I'm willing to let it move in this undulating pattern. It will be interesting to see what comes of it in the final stages...

Pass in Time::Morphology

Like witnessing an Andy Goldsworthy art piece change over time, I've been able to see progress on my art piece. It's coming together, but slowly. I don't feel any need to force it and since there is no place to show it, there is no deadline to complete it.

I've been looking through old photographs taken on my digital camera from the last year. I was reminded of the fact that I managed to see both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans last year. In less than 6 months, I had gone 1500 miles in one direction and 1500 miles in the other. I guess I didn't realize this until in retrospect and it's an inspiring feeling.

I'm in the middle of completing the rest of my graduate school applications and getting psyched at my progress. I'm ecstatic that I can maintain a sense of myself through all the daily craziness. I'm thrilled when I can manage to have a day off to do stupid stuff like laundry and grocery shopping. I enjoy this almost as much as staying up late at night and meticulously cutting out pieces for the art piece.

I have this box of papers that I've collected: chocolate bar wrappers, origami papers from Los Angeles, old envelopes, magazine bits, handmade paper scraps from an art store in Irvine, CA, and random catalogs. It's a little box of treasures, representing something somehow more sustainable than the metal I used to work in. Granted, I still have lots of metal scraps and pieces, but not having the tools to melt them down and pour ingots, I am left with pieces that I cannot use. Why has paper replaced this void?

I read this article on NPR about paper as the new popular art medium. It's such a funny statement, having come from a painting background, where works on paper are considered low art, just as metalsmithing is considered "just a craft". Where has this change occurred? Is it because paper is so accessible? I'm fascinated by my own feelings of "preciousness" towards certain types of paper. For example, plain white copy paper is not nearly as interesting as the origami papers I picked up at Kinokuniya bookstore in Japantown.

Most of the emphasis for my new art work is the barrier of using collage bits on a supportable frame. I'm merely using glue and paper. However, it is not nearly as direct as paint on a canvas or a hammer blow to metal sheet. I get to compose the papers on the canvas and this is part of its charm.

Admittedly, sometimes I feel the need to hit some metal or stab a canvas with a paintbrush doused in copious amounts of red paint. For the time being, however, I will find solace in this newfound art form.

The freedom to...

...do the things I think I should. That is all.

Progress on the new piece.

The Beginning is the End is the Beginning.

I took my GRE this morning and did better than average, which is basically good enough for me. I feel like I'm in a video game, where I finished one level and now have to proceed to the next. Only, it's much harder, the monsters are scarier, and it will take a lot of strategy. Thankfully, I have already initiated the process by applying to schools in advance. I have three more applications to complete, two of which are in the North Texas area. I had not come to mental collapse over this test, thank goodness. Now, I can concentrate on the projects I put aside in order to focus on studying. For example, a new art piece I had started. Below is the bluish wash I put on a 3 foot x 4 foot canvas. I'm hoping to get even more detail-oriented with this piece than the last one. I will also vary the shapes of the collage elements I use. It will be interesting if I can actually manage a cohesive set of work in this collage vein. Regardless, it keeps me sane to work on something that isn't graduate school or work related.

I will keep everyone posted...

Contextually Conceptual or The More Oxygen Available, the Better

It's been awhile since I've written something profoundly personal blog-wise. I know much of this goes out into the void and is impersonal in that respect, but I figured I would spare a moment to vent a bit.

I take the GRE (Graduate Record Examination) in less than a week. Understandably, I'm having some anxiety over this test. Not because I'm a bad test-taker, because the opposite is true. However, this is a culmination of things that I have wanted so badly and things I thought I wanted badly. I feel like someone who is coming closer to getting on a roller-coaster, with all the mixed feelings of fear, excitement, dread, and joy.

I've been enjoying my internship at The Modern so much, I'm already sad about it coming to an end in May. This has made rethink my path as an artist, a researcher, and a teacher. I've been all three in the present, juggling my responsibilities of my day job, bouncing around concepts and ideas while I carry around books like a waitress. I have a romanticism for my own future and its possibilities. A former professor of mine even ventured forth the following: "your wingspan will never be greater than it is now." I've taken this to heart and hope that I will not disappoint anyone. I realize on some level, this is ridiculous, because the only person I can truly disappoint is myself. I like to think I've done a bang-up job of respecting myself. However, there are these two little words that create, quite possibly, the most complex phrase in the English language: "What if?"

In a different realm, I'm still working on my theories about how intrinsic context is to concept. A single example I can make of this correlates with oral history. You know how in anyone's family a story is passed down from generation to generation, a semblance of embellishment takes place? I would argue that the truth is not neglected, but perhaps the viewpoint has changed. If the viewpoint has changed and appears as truth to that person, isn't that as powerful as the original truth?

I have been researching art, artists, and history lately in hopes to understand some correlations. For example, I just completed Monuments Men by Robert Edsel. I was fascinated by the plight of a few smattering of men, thrown into different parts of the military, for the sole purpose of finding, protecting, and in many cases, repatriating, some of the world's most precious art. It has renewed my interest in art as something more than a process, but something that represents cultures and freedom. I have a few books on my bedside table at this point, most currently Pop: The Genius of Andy Warhol by Tony Scherman and David Dalton. I'm reading it in hopes to gain some insight before the upcoming Warhol exhibition opens at The Modern on Valentine's Day. Again, another scenario where I think context is associated with concept. The book is focused on Warhol's earlier years, while the exhibition will be on his later years.

I am reminded of being in art school, where I slept, ate, bled, cried, and dreamt art. The physicality of creating art constantly, for personal reasons, and for deadlines, was sometimes a daunting process. I remember being outside of the wood shop at school during winter and accidently hammering a nail through the tip of one of my fingers. I didn't notice because my fingers were so numb, but when I started bleeding all over the wood, I remember thinking: "oh God, I've come to a point where I don't realize that I'm hurting for the sake of art." Needless to say, I was more careful later on, especially in the metals studio. Will it be too raw to continue those art studies? More specifically, do I have it in me?

Lots of decisions need to be made, but I will decide each one as they come.

The trick is to keep breathing...

Onto the next.

The piece I started awhile ago is all finished and in the middle of being judged for the 500x Expo Show, so cross your fingers. The next few pics include the finished piece and then a shot with an addition of acrylic paint. It will be interesting to see how these pieces continue. I plan to collage for the next piece as well, but now I'm experimenting with layers of acrylic as part of the background and foreground. I also plan to create some more tongue-in-cheek commentary. Photos will be posted in progress...stay tuned.

And they're off...!

So, a proverbial horse race is beginning this month. However, all great and fantastic things are developing. To name some in no particular order:

1. Dyed my hair red, for fun, and to truly keep the "redhotflame" moniker that I adore so much...

2. Continuing with the internship at The Modern with the Teen-Artist Program. Hopefully the new blog in the works for them will be connected to this one so everyone can see their progress.

3. Still working on the new art piece that is nearly complete. This will be entered in the call for artists at the 500x gallery in Dallas. http://www.500x.org

4. Upcoming GRE test (yikes!) and more graduate school applications flying through the post office.

5. Finally, I found out that my interview for Art Conspiracy, along with other artists, was posted on the KERA Art & Seek website. Maybe my camera-shyness is disappearing...?

Art Conspiracy: The Artist Interviews

More pics below of the new art piece, enjoy.