I added a nose to a community totem making project led by artist Judy Motzkin at the Cambridge River Festival. (the other side had a lovely face but the artist forgot it was a 3D object. )I love participatory projects...and I love saying that word, participatory.
Call it a pillow if you must. This sculpture, Soft Spore White, from an installation in '09 is heading to a client in Boston where it'll have a new life as a decorative bed pillow. Filled with microbeads, it's a fun, squishy companion while still being l'object d'art. Contact me if you're interested in your own customized sneezy, squeezy sweet dreams! (silk, thread, batting and microbeads)
You like free stuff, meeting new and interesting people, and you think my art is "interesting". So you will be at the opening of Deciphering the Divine this Thursday from 5-8 pm?
Deciphering the Divine – a solo show of paintings and drawings
Gallery at Fort Point Framers
300 Summer Street, Suite M4 (lower level)
Boston, MA 02110
March 3 - 31
opening reception: Thursday, March 4; 5 - 8 pm
Bring on the questions and chin scratching! (Ascots and berets optional. Extra points if you use some language from the last post.)
The following is my artist statement for the upcoming show, Deciphering the Devine, at Fort Point Framers (Boston), March 3 - 31. Psst...secret here, and spoiler alert...I never know what the show is going to be about until the work is all together and ready to be framed.
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My work is a visual account of my everyday experiences – a narration of the mundane and sublime in each day and how these seemingly varied experiences exhibit nature's transformative, restorative and live-giving forces.
The work in this show draws from two recent bodies of work, both using the human mind as a centerpiece and references neuroscience, meditation and the remapping of brain circuitry. While the subject of this show draws directly from my cognitive life, the abstract imagery references fragments of indecipherable characters and letters, as well as the natural world of aquatic organisms.
As I work, I try to tap into a state of flow and decipher something not immediately known. A secret alphabet may appear from the swoosh of a gesture line, or the shape of a human heart might be suggested by a crevice in a sea sponge.
All of the mediums exhibited in this show (watery inks pooled on paper or film, thinned oils, and human hair on paper) are difficult to control. This allows the mediums to come to life and exhibit their own natural properties, diminishing my power over the outcome. Working in this manner is like redefining how one interprets the world through cognitive remapping practices, such as meditation. The immediacy of finding a solution, or controlling the situation, seems to fade away and the richness of the details takes hold of the mind.
Kate Gilbert Miller
February 23, 2010
As a teenager I fantasized about living a life of letters. I didn’t know what it meant but it sounded cool. I interpreted it as a life of scholarship and solitude; part organic spiritually, part rigorous intellectualism. Ultimately, I realized I wasn’t the scholarly type (thank you Doc. P. for pointing that out) and as much as I liked alone time, I craved socialization too much to be a Virginia Woolf type. (Plus it turned out I wasn’t mad, just a little bit sensitive.)
But I’ve hung on to the letters part.
I write every morning. I love communicating through letters and cards. I read everything in front of my eyes; license plates, graffiti tag, signs (always rereading the ones I see daily and adding commas or removing letters) and look for the hidden or alternative meanings.
So it’s no surprise that I choose the words around my studio carefully and use them sparingly. Up right now:
I have a few hours to come up with something clever before the postcard ships to the printer. Maybe I’ll drive around and look at signs…
Any suggestions?
image above: messing around with colored ink and this "y" appeared
Just now as I got off the station bench to board my train to the studio, the homeless man next to me -- who had not previously said a word -- grinned a toothless smile and professed, "You're a strong woman. You're moving forward, not backward". With his warm smile of insanity came a thumbs up...and precisely the encouragement I need as I enter a two week stretch to pull together the next show.
Recent Works (drawings and paintings)
@ Fort Point Framers
300 Summer Street
Boston
March 3-31
Opening reception: Thursday March 4, 5-8 pm
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
“It’s like a dream. Like there’s all this thought crammed into it. I could stare at it for hours.” That was my favorite comment about my work last Friday at the opening of Dénouement/Indéterminé. It came from a young woman from California who swayed every part of her body while she talked (head and hips one way, shoulders the other, while her feet made their own pattern on the floor) in the most adorable and free way. The lithe Valley Girl was one of several dozen Kimball Union Academy students who came to the gallery for some free snacks and stayed to share their uninhibited thoughts on my work.
Each student I talked with was earnest and brimming with energy. Yes, some were shy and didn't really look me in the eye but they were all honest -- not yet capable of being disingenuous or saying nice things for the sake of saying nice things. So refreshing!
Admittedly, it was one of the oddest openings I’ve ever been to but I walked away feeling great. I’d shared my work with the next generation and in return they’d given me some honest and pleasant feedback. I also had a new found appreciation for all who teach. (Julie, your work is so important!) That’s all there is after all – inspiration and conversation – or the indéterminé of life, love and art.
Me and Mom in front of her favorite painting, Maggy, which was also a big hit with the students. Apparently it looks like a popular album cover but I don’t know which one. Do you?
Setting: A slim man and his sister are looking at her artwork in a light-filled barn; sheets of drawing paper are spilled out across the floor; unfinished canvases litter the walls.
Artist: I’m using more color now.
(silence)
Brother: Huh.
(silence)
Do you look at your couch when you paint?
Artist: (sighs) I know. I’m using the same colors.
(silence) I can’t help it.
Somewhere in the back of my brain I knew my paintings and my studio couch were similar. Hell, it’s the only thing with any color in my studio. But I didn’t think I would paint pictures to match it and disrespect the fundamental oath of the contemporary painter: Never make art to match a sofa. Yikes! Not only does it match but I made it match.
This little couch (too small to call a sofa) was the first item I purchased for my studio when I moved in over a year ago. I love the colors. I love that it’s messy, a little wild, and so very unlike my decorating aesthetic. It was a little stake in the ground – my studio is finished, hurray! I survived three years of weekend construction and I allow myself to be creative!
In truth, the couch is rarely used in its manufactured function…I move around too much. I am incapable of napping. But it makes a handy place to store completed drawings, magazine clippings, exhibit postcards, and obviously plays a critical role in determining my color palette.
So if you would like to commission a painting to match your couch I will not be offended in the least. I could use a new color scheme.
Note: After seeing this picture I immediately removed the freaky viper head from the painting in the background that looks like it's going to eat me.
This is the second year in a row that I am preparing for a solo show during the holiday season. It blows. I’m missing out on the yule tide cheer, developing a reputation as the no-show, rapidly losing friends, and even irritating my otherwise understanding, go-with-the-flow, Kate’s-in-one-of-those-moods family members. Yikes!
My bank account is on a dangerous downward trajectory as I desperately point and click, sending presents and art supplies around the country like rapid fire. My carbon footprint is nearing Santa’s.
Yet despite it all, I’m saving just a little time for me to exercise and ensure my creativity index doesn’t nose dive. I’ve recently joined a gym and I LOVE it!
While I’m there I count my blessings:
1.) a sound mind (hey you, stop laughing)
2.) a strong body (I said, stop laughing!)
3.) use of as many towels as I want (think soft sculptures)
4.) free body wash (ooh, la la)
5.) someone else cleans the shower and
6.) one peaceful, yet challenging, hour to myself!
What gift(s) are you giving yourself this holiday season? And I'm sorry if I've been out of touch...
My family is so talented. My sister pointed out that instabilité really means instability. Duh. And while I do like the unraveling thing that is going on, I really am not unstable. Nor do I want to project this image. (Unless it might help my career? kidding.)
So, the new title is Denouement/Indéterminé. Impermanence of the indeterminable variety, not instability.
Merci professor Gilbert!