Finally back to work...

I got really sick in March, and it derailed my life for about a month. I'm happy to report that recovery is going well and I'm starting to feel like myself again. I'm still processing what happened and how scary it really was. My doctor said this was something that might have killed you 150 years ago, but modern antibiotics really are a life saver. Honestly I'm just so glad that I made it out of this without any serious lasting consequences or lifestyle changes. I have a lot to be thankful for, and I'm so grateful I was able to take the time I needed to ensure I got better.

I'm so grateful for all my friends and family who helped me through the worst of it. <3 This experience has been both a scary a wake up call, and a lovely reminder of all the people in my life who would go out of their way to take care of me.

I'm continually humbled by all the love and resources that my family and friends have poured into me all my life. It takes a lot to make a person who they are, and I continue to feel the weight of that love and energy in everything I work on.

There's a lot to do to keep up with my timeline, and losing a month certainly didn't help. I've got plenty of stuff to record and edit for the album... and the endless churning and bubbling germination of undeveloped ideas and structures continues to simmer at the piano as often as I sit down on the bench.

I was away from the piano (and mostly the guitar too) while I was recovering at my parents house, and I'm so glad to be back at an instrument to help me process all of this. New songs, and newly realized songs are starting to take shape. Sometimes the unfinished song is a monster that threatens to consume crush you under its weight. Sometimes it's a towering tree covered in vines rising higher than the clouds and begging you to climb up and explore. Other times it's a limp, tired animal that you try to drag reluctantly across the finish line. And sometimes it's a confused little fish swimming through the substrate of your imagination, trying to find the water it can most easily breath in. I'm relieved to have these creatures back in my life.

Reflecting on art: Two Modes of Making

There are two primary frameworks/modes in which art is made. One is art that is born out of a studio practice- inspired by other art (either made by the artist in the past, or by other works they have seen) and focused primarily on material mastery and/or experimental innovation. The other is art that is born out of a need to articulate and process a person's real lived experiences in the world.

In the first framework, each piece is a bit like a a technical iteration upon previous pieces. The thing being articulated is in some way similar to those pieces (either conceptually or experientially), but the refined product shows constant improvement and novel innovation. This practice focuses on rich discovery/mastery of the materials and practices being used (including conceptual material/practice, like in the case of the many readymades that followed in Duchamp's footsteps) . That isn't to say that work made in this framework is necessarily derivative- but rather, that the artists primary goal is the production of a work that is technically marvelous and exciting in a way that is rooted primarily in the pursuit and practice of art making, rather than personal emotional situations.

Art made in this mode can be found sitting in modern studios and galleries often. Much of it (in the contemporary context) leans into abstraction and theory. It's stated meaning seems to be discovered along the way, or to be applied after the production has started (or sometimes after it has been finished...) The emotional core of work sometimes fails to resonate, or comes of as disingenuous for viewers. I've had conversations with many artists who mostly make work in this mode, and they often loathe the moment when they have to write a statement and give the work a name. It's not that the artist isn't passionate about the work, but rather that they don't know how to satisfyingly articulate exactly what aspects they care about- which is not at all their fault! Especially when dealing with work like this, the ability to articulate the thing that excites them (that gives the work a reason to exist and explains why it's hanging in front of you) depends heavily on an audience having a lot of the same studio/institutional experiences as the artist. This makes it difficult to explain on a plaque. It's a piece that makes you cry if you've spent 10 years looking at other art. In some way, the work asks that you already know what it's "supposed" to achieve before you've even looked at it.

The second type of art attempts to capture, invoke, or reflect upon a sensation that the artist has directly experienced. It attempts to synthesize an aspect of the real world and clarify and distill it into a new experience.

In order to make art in this second framework, the artist needs to have a wealth of lived experiences to draw from, and a strong memory of an emotion that propels them to make the work. In many ways, this type of art ends up being more approachable to an audience outside an academic art institution, because it is directly spawned from experiences that anyone might also have in the world. This is not to suggest that art in this framework speaks directly to subjects typical of everyday life, but rather, that the meaning and intention of the work were developed first (in whatever inarticulably vague notion) based on circumstances unrelated to the art itself, and the process of creating a work happened as a direct result.

There are pitfalls in this mode of art making too. Sometimes an artist engaged in this mode will make something that speaks deeply and profoundly... but only to them. The personal context that produces the work is so elaborate that it isn't directly or obviously able to be re-constituted in the mind of a viewer. There is an argument that work made in this way doesn't particularly care for an audience in the first place. The primary objective of the maker was not to have something ready to display, but rather to capture and process a feeling or situation in their own world for an intrinsic (often therapeutic) purpose. (Perhaps there is something to be said about the potential potency of an art object made for a very specific and limited audience, but that should be its own topic)

Truly great artists are wrapped up deeply in both worlds- engaged frequently in both an academic context that encourages practical/material innovation, and a lived context that gives them something real and meaningful to continuously make work about. Entering academia will give an artist a great foundation for making work in the first mode, and leaving academia will give an artist a great appreciation for work made in the second mode.

Tarot deck update ❤️

I've been making good progress on the tarot deck lately. Many Major Arcana are coming together, and the many minor arcana continue to get checked off, too. I feel more in tune with the traditional practice of image making/conceptualization than I ever have before. Something about the task of being presented with a list of themes, feelings, and images, and being asked to synthesize and re-interpret it in my own words feels very honest and ancient. It reminds me of what the old masters were doing in their history/allegory paintings. I like this practice. It's difficult but very rewarding and satisfying. I feel like many of the major arcana I've finished so far could easily be made into larger paintings of real artistic merit. They feel honest, important and weighty in a really good way. I might also start posting some of my thoughts on the cards and what they mean and why I made certain decisions for them here on this blog- so keep an eye out for that!

I've been thinking about posting more detailed information about my songs here, too. Since I started working with my producer on The Queen of Time, I've been making detailed write-ups about what my songs mean to me, and why I think they works. I'd love to be able to share this with my audience too! I have a lot to say, and maybe this blog is the right place to say it. As Invertebrate Waltz gets completed, I'm planning on making a detailed post about each song, and what it means/meant to me while writing it. I hope to accompany these posts with the unmastered "final mix" on my Patreon, so anyone who reads about it here can go listen to it early over there!

I'm excited to start using this blog as a place to share some of the more detailed intention and struggle behind the things I make. I think that publishing information like this enriches the work, and helps clarify what it was meant to say. On the one hand I want the work to speak for itself, and for it revel in the flexibility of interoperation that makes art so special... But on the other hand, if I never speak about these things- that information dies with me. I think knowing what the artist was thinking about is an important part of the constellation of information that gives a piece of art a shared cultural sense of meaning/ value, and I want to give my work more of a chance to have that.