Still Alive and Kicking (But now in Chicago!)

Fair warning… I have no idea where this is going.

I’ve been absent for well over a year now.  This blog was even hidden from public view for at least six months while I decided what to do with it.  Should I just delete it, and all the art thoughtz that went into it?  Or perhaps just leave it as private permanently?  Should it go public again, and I delete only the things that relate to my professional practice and make this an entirely personal blog?  Should I rename the whole damn thing?  Should I just start over on a new blog?

Yes.  I’ve actually been thinking about these things for over a year.  And, with so many things having changed in my life in that time span, I’ve really been missing this blog, especially the long drawn out art ramblings that always, in some magical way, seemed to clarify my studio adventures.  The Anxiety and the Artist so encapsulates everything I am.  I cannot totally divorce my personal and professional lives, nor can I erase something that documents the changes and growth in my life.

So here we are again.  I find myself with nothing to do on a Sunday, because my normal routine has been disrupted due to some banking issues.  Thus, I finally have the time to do what’s been kicking around in my head for the last month or so.  Start this blog back up.  It’s a good time to do so, and I think an important time to do so as well.

In many ways, the concerns I voiced in my last post are very much in the forefront of my mind, but I feel less… Rushed?  Less like things need to happen NOW?  But also so much more complicated.  Some of that is because I’ve gotten a “real” job and I’ve moved out of Tallahassee.  I feel possibilities now.  I feel like I’m making progress professionally (even if only incrementally).  So now, in some ways, I’m totally content being alone.  I don’t have to worry about anyone’s motives or intentions.  I don’t have to fear the moment where compromises can no longer be made and one or the other has to sacrifice and be resentful, or there is a parting of ways.  I just don’t feel the pressure to try to find a partner any more.

Even more basic than that though, is just the amount of brain space that dating takes up.  When I thought I was going to be spending another year in Tallahassee, I decided back in February that I was over dating.  It just took up so much time, effort, and brain space.  I wanted to cocoon myself in my “studio” (read: bedroom) and make art.  Apply for jobs.  Basically focus.  So I had deleted my dating profiles.

But then, oh but then!  Out of the blue I got a job, moved to Chicago, and was like, well why the fuck not!?  (I still very much maintain the mindset of “Why the fuck not?  What’s the worst that can happen?)  So I started up again.  And I have been enjoying it.  It’s been a great way to start to see the city and meet people.  I get to have sex again (something that was incredibly rare the last six months or so)!  I like feeling the possibility that I can, in fact, connect with another human being.  That I’m not an android, or such an introvert that I want no one around me.

I’m torn though.  It’s been difficult enough to get settled and get the studio (yes, I have a studio again now!) set up.  I keep running into technical difficulties.  The space is currently cluttered with boxes of studio things that I have no place to store right now (and clutter is distracting to me). I’m still having a hard time adjusting to working full time from 8-5 for a full 5 days a week, to commuting 45 minutes each way.  So I’ve not been as productive in the studio as I would like, much less in getting out in to the art community or *shudder* networking.  That’s giving me a certain amount of anxiety, but not unmanageable amounts.  I just have to keep reminding myself that not everything can happen all at once.  And I’ve only been here for a month (as of tomorrow).  Dating is… While not taking away from my practice (because I firmly believe I need to have a life and have fun in order to function as both an artist and a human being), taking up brain space.

At the same time however, every time I hear another friend is pregnant, or I see friends totally content in relationships, I feel like my heart is being ripped out.  I feel a profound sense of sadness.  I want those things just as much as I want to focus.  Just as much as I need to make art.  I feel/hear my clock ticking, obnoxiously so these days.  My body is fucking with me.  My periods now come every three weeks instead of every four.  As if even my ovaries know that I need to get a move on, and so they’re trying to be helpful by speeding up the turn around time or something.  All the while just wasting their time (and my eggs!  Jerks…)  I love the idea of having some one to share my life with.  I crave having the ability to get a hug whenever I need one.  To feel loved…  However, given everything in my life, all of my experiences, and my motivations/plans for the future, I’m not sure that I can even allow that to happen.

As I was unpacking my studio in the new apartment, I came across a hunk of Post-It notes, hastily pulled from the wall in my previous studio *coughbedroomcough* and chucked into a box with my studio desk stuff.  I started unpeeling them from one another and sticking them on the wall that will eventually be the whiteboard in my studio.  And then I came across one that said “I don’t dare allow myself.”

Just let that sink in for a second.  I have no idea when I wrote that, or why I chose to keep it.  But at some point in the last year, that thought crossed my mind, and I jotted it down, stuck it to the wall with all my other Post-It thoughts, and kept it.  I don’t dare allow myself… If I allow myself then compromises have to be made, sacrifices follow, and I find myself in the exact same place I barely made it out of in one piece with my marriage.  If I allow myself, then I might start hoping, I might get expectations, I might start planning, and all of those things will be dashed and I will be hurt and disappointed.

My long and drawn out point here, is that, on some level, I’m not sure I can not allow myself to be enveloped into a relationship with any level of serious commitment, despite my desire for just that.  I think I’m too skeptical and pragmatic at this point in my life to believe that finding someone who can (and will) love me unconditionally, as well as want the same things that I do, and support me in my career, is likely.  I can have fun trying, but I don’t think that it will actually happen. I think that’s where my disinterest in dating comes from… I mean, why waste the brain space?

But still, even though they seem like a pipe dream, I want a committed relationship and a family.  I want stability.  And I don’t know how to get past the skepticism and pragmatism to make it happen though.  To let go a little bit of that control I have in being alone and focusing on me…. I just don’t want to do so at the expense of my professional endeavors.  And that’s a fine line to take.

Agh! Those Personal/Professional Boxes Again!

Hi there!  It’s been an age since I’ve posted here.  A totally inexcusable lapse on my part, but I hope you’ll forgive me… This blog had to be placed extremely low on my priorities list in the last 6 months.  So low that it stop existing.  Sorry about that.  I promise I will be a better blogger in the future.  Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’ve been trying to write this post for going on 3 months now?  No?  Well, it was worth a shot…

From here on out however, this blog is going to be much less about studio happenings, and more about the personal side of my artings and life.  Never fear, there will still be studio updates… They’re just going to be taking place over at a blog hosted on my professional website.  While my life does inform my work a great deal, I’m making an effort to separate my personal and professional life as much as possible… You know,  job hunting and such might be hindered by a blog about what an anxiety ridden person I am.  Or potential employers discovering how incompetent I really am…

Of course, a lot of things have happened since the last time I posted about the clock ticking for me and my thesis.  I had to produce both my written thesis and my MFA thesis show, my marriage fell apart and eventually ended, I applied for an obscene number of jobs (and got none of them) I graduated, I moved, I had an accident, I dyed my hair pink again, I attended a SHIT ton of therapy…  Basically all of the things had to be taken care of at the same time when all I really wanted to do was to curl up in the fetal position under the covers and cry… and maybe sleep.  Basically January through May was the most miserable time of my life (second only to my time spent in Erie PA).  But that’s OK.  Shit has to happen.

So here I find myself, with my terminal degree, still in Tallahassee, and no idea of what the future holds for me.  But you know what?  I’m actually really comfortable with that idea.  I’ve spent much of the last several years obsessing over the future, and planning things, and being terrified of what was going to happen.  I’m tired of that.  I just want to enjoy the life that I’ve fought so hard to have, even if it means I’m not exactly where I want to be in my career or personal life.  My new philosophy is:  “Why not?  What’s the worst that could happen?”  Because, let’s be honest, I’ve already survived what I thought would be the worst things in my life.  Let’s fly by the seat of our pants for awhile, shall we?

It’s the intersection of those two things though, personal and professional, that I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about… Because I’m fairly certain that it played a huge role in the destruction of my marriage.  Now, don’t get me wrong, there were a number of other factors that helped bring that relationship down, and I am certainly glad it is over, but, I think that you should learn from your mistakes and walk away a better, stronger person.  So, I think about these things.  A committee member of mine at FSU has this thing about Personal and Professional boxes, and how they never quite sync up.  Either things are going fantastically in one and not the other, or both are kind of mediocre.  In my head, I kind of scoffed at this when he first talked about it in a class… But, I feel like I’ve been in that latter category for the last 6 or so months… My thesis was created at the expense of my divorce, which resulted in some pretty lackluster work, and my life in general was a mess for quite awhile.  As I move forward, I think about these boxes being at odds with one another… Meaning that I can’t have both a successful professional life as well as a successful personal life.

Now, I’m not interested in having a “woe is me” moment here.  I made some decisions, some turned out badly, some are great, others have yet to reveal their consequences.  But, to reel this line of thought back into what I was originally saying; I feel as if my personal and professional desires are often in conflict with one another.  In the context of the relationship with my ex, I wanted to have that marriage, as well as my career… I wanted to start a family, he wanted to focus grad school…  I’m starting to feel there is no way to win.  That, perhaps, we cannot “have it all” as the feminists would say.

As I’ve returned to dating, and have been forced to rethink my plans for the artistic/academic career I want, these things haunt me.  It’s all very convoluted though.  It’s not just that I want a career and a personal life.  It’s that I’m an artist, who very much wants to be in academia.  To put it rather bluntly, there are a fuck-ton of artists with MFAs out there, while there is an inversely disproportionate number of university teaching positions.  This is because becoming a professor is one of the few ways that artists can both be guaranteed a regular paycheck and get various types of support for their artistic research.  Once you get tenure, no one wants to leave that kind of security!  Shit, son.  I want that type of security.

In any event, this means that there are few open positions, and the ones that are available, can have the highest requirements in terms of experience  and knowledge base, and no one will blink an eye or call foul.  With hundreds of people applying for a single position, why not be choosy?!  Most of the photography teaching positions I was gunning for “preferred” anywhere between 3-5 years of teaching experience not including teaching experience accumulated while in graduate school.  This is frustrating, because it basically precludes my applications to a VAST majority of the positions available.

Then, how to get those years of teaching experience so that the search committees don’t just laugh and throw out my applications?  Well, a combination of adjunct positions and visiting professorships (although, most of the visiting/short term gigs seem to require just as much experience as the permanent ones).  If you are unfamiliar with the concept of adjuncting… Basically it means that you are contracted to a university, semester to semester, paid a flat rate for each course you teach, and have no job security, much less benefits or things of that nature.  Both of these options are depressing to me.  One means I scrounge around where ever I’m living, hoping that I can piece together a living through adjuncting and some other type of job.  (Because, come on, who is going to relocate for a job that has no guarantee of being there when you arrive?)  The other equates to me being a nomad for several years (should I be lucky enough to get any of those jobs).

To me, all of this seems to make having a personal life impossible.  If I’m constantly moving around, then how the heck can I build a long term relationship, much less start a family, with out having to ask my partner to sacrifice what they want while I do what I want?  Or, conversely, I could compromise, and stay put some place where there is a possibility of adjunct work, but have no promise of work from semester to semester, much less financial stability.  But then, what happens once I’ve found a full time job and have to move for reals?  It makes me want to give up on the idea of a career in academia.

Then I wonder what I would do, as an artist if I decided not to go into the university system.  I want to teach, I do.  I sincerely enjoy it.  Then maybe I teach high school? (I have, by the way, applied for a certificate of eligibility to do so.)  But teaching high school, you have no support for your artistic career.  You’re not going to get sabbaticals, have the opportunity to apply for research grants, or have access to various facilities needed.  And, from my perspective, you’re not going to get to teach the things you’re most interested in, or work with the level of students you’d like to… But, you’d have a guaranteed paycheck, you don’t have to be nomadic, and you still get to teach… and maybe make art in a spare minute or two at night… If you have some extra cash laying around…

Conversely, I could just say fuck it to my career for a period of time, take a job doing whatever, start a family, and enjoy that aspect of what I want in life, then try in the future to go after the academic career.  This seems like a terrible idea though… Imagine, sitting in an interview, being asked why you got your terminal degree in 2o14, but did nothing with it until many years later.  Something tells me “Oh, I wanted to settle down with my partner and pop out some kids” would probably not be a widely accepted answer.  I also live in terror of doing this and then never actually reclaiming my career.

Anyway… Now I’m just ranting.  Basically, it seems to me that myself and my fellow academically oriented artists are in a bind.  There are not good options.  And that makes me sad.  While I realize that I can make whatever I want happen in my life, the process seems rather grim.  And I think I make this all the more difficult on myself because I don’t want to move anywhere there is a possibility of snow…




I am at the 92 Day, 23 hour, 58 minute and some odd second mark until my thesis show opens.


And I am struggling.  But what’s surprising about that?


You see, I have once again gotten myself into the difficult situation of having come up with this insane idea, but of having no clue as to how to pull it off.  Aren’t I nice to myself?


My initial proposal went something like this:


For my thesis show, I would like to create an archive of a performance through documents and artifacts.  The performance which is evidenced through this archive may or may not have taken place.  There is potential for the archive could be created out of found objects, repurposed materials, etc.  These materials would then be presented to the audience in such a way that they are then required to piece together the “narrative” of the event.  Conceptually, I see the performance revolving around the themes of failure and success.  Preferably, I would like this to take the form of some type of universal failure or experience with failure, something which would compel the audience to invest time and energy into discovering the story.  The main idea behind the archive and its manner of presentation to the audience is that, while it documents and shares an experience for which the audience was absent, it also mediates and distances them from that same event.  This inherently creates misunderstanding, miscommunication, and potential meandering in meaning.  In this way the archive in the traditional sense, fails performance art, in that it cannot provide a clear or concise replication of the principal happening for posterity to experience.  Nor can it hope to truly preserve artist intent or meaning through time.  As our cultural references and understandings evolve, the documents  themselves remain stagnant.

The contents of this repository will be as wide ranging as possible, but operating within the traditional confines of an archive.  I intend to include photographs, video, sound recordings, writing, any props or objects used for the performance, as well as any artifacts created through the performance itself.  These documents will be incomplete in someways, forcing the viewer to use all parts in conjunction with one another in order to obtain the “full picture.”  These various parts will be displayed throughout the gallery, almost in “stations,” to both explain and mediate the performance for the audience.  I also anticipate providing the audience with some sort of takeaway which could function as a map, a treasure hunt, or something which would help them to tie together the various pieces of the performance.  This takeaway could then become an additional piece of documentation.  Photographically speaking, I am considering two options.  The first is having images which change periodically, and the second is presenting images that were supposedly printed with disappearing ink.  In the first option, images could be rotated on a time table, or a small group of images could be displayed on a screen or projected for a finite period of time before changing, never to be seen again.  In the second option, the images could be printed in disappearing ink, or just be stated to have been printed as such.  The audience would then be forced to rely on written captions or titles, or another individual to describe to them what was in each frame.  Similarly, the video component would be designed so that it could not be relied upon to share the narrative in its entirety.  I see it as either taking the form of a soundless video, projected or played on a screen.  Or it could also simply be a glitchy video which periodically drops out, or becomes pixillated so visual information is lost as well, similar to the way that Digital TV received via antenna is unreliable. When it comes to any objects included in the archive, I’m anticipating these being presented much as traditional art objects or historical artifacts in a museum.  Moreover, I plan on incorporating some type of sound or written element to supplement the object.  This could take the form of an audio track variously describing the original object, the history of the object, discussing the use of the object within the performance, or maybe just the sound of the object being used.  Alternatively, this could also be accomplished through a written placard accompanying the object. As a final piece of the archive, I intend to have an audio feed that provides audience members with a general interpretation of what the performance and show were about.  To accomplish this, at some point during each viewer’s experience at the gallery, they will have the opportunity to enter a sort of “confessional,” in which they can share their interpretations, impressions, or experience of the performance.  This will then simultaneously be recorded and broadcast into a “listening station,” where others may go to hear this second hand audio archive of the performance.  As with the presentation of the objects, this could also take the form of a written archive if the audience were uncomfortable with speaking or being recorded.  Additionally, I would somehow like to incorporate other audience generated archive materials, such as pictures they took, or social media posts they made relating to the show.  This could then be incorporated into the presentation of the performance in the museum after the opening….


And then it goes into discussing research routes and technical challenges.  Sorry if you read all of that.

There are several problems with this idea, despite the fact that I am so excited about it and have the support of my committee to take this risk.  The first of which being, I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT THE PERFORMANCE IS GOING TO BE.  And I can’t piece together anything else until I nail that down.  Frustrating!  Like I mention in the proposal, I want it to related to failure, but how do you make failure completely universal?  It’s pretty crucial in this situation I think, to make the performance something that is relatable and understandable in terms of theme and content.  Otherwise I feel like there would be NOTHING for the audience to grasp since there are several layers happening here, and I’m not 100% certain that everyone in attendance is going to understand that as I look at it, archives are failure…  Something, something, something, something?

I submitted that proposal in December, and have approval to attempt this madness, and ever since then I’ve been thinking about what my performance might be, if it were going to be live, or take place before hand, how I might engage the audience in piecing together the archive…On and on.

For quite sometime, the only conclusion I had come to was that there had to be a live performance (the night of my opening at least), so that the distinction between experiencing the archive and having a first hand, potentially participatory experience could be made for my audience.  But then, how do I make sure that ALL visitors to the show can experience that contradiction?  I can’t perform in the museum the entire time the show is up.  I can’t afford to pay performers to perform in the museum the entire time the show is up.  Do I make my audience become the performers?  And how do I keep the performance hidden, secondary in some ways, so that the audience could experience everything else first and THEN discover the live performance?  Should I make some sort of scavenger hunt, where the performance becomes the pay off in the end?  And how do I ensure that my audience complies?

Then over the last few days, I’ve started to think that I’m attempting to combine too much into this show.  Trying to use too many ideas simultaneously, and that I should try to simplify where possible.  This also made me think that maybe I should try to really simplify my intents for the performance itself, and maybe attempt something on a smaller scale…  But I still didn’t know what it would be.

But I think I had a small break through today.  In one of my posts from November, I talked about how I was thinking about playing telephone (almost literally) for a performance, and shared my discovery of  an essay titled The Viral Ontology of Performance Art.  Something else I read today (also out of Perform, Repeat, Record) started to make me think about performance telephone and Viral Ontology again.

  “Documentations magic lies in its explosive power, it shatters the reclusive planet inhabited by the once-lived into a radiating galaxy of astroids.  Each astroid carries some memories of the once-lived, each in turn extends, renews, or replaces the vitality of the once-lived; each has the potential to grow into a different planet.  Thus, the once-lived lives again and lives on not as itself per se, but as itself altered: dismembered, redone, augmented, partially replicated, diminished, burned into ashes, or consumed as legends.”

Suddenly I remembered a game a member of my cohort taught me and that I would frequently play with the kids at Lafayette Art Camp.  It’s called Telephone Pictionary.  To play this game, you sit in a circle with the other participants (as with traditional Telephone, the more people, the better), and each player has a stack of paper or note cards.  On the top card, each participant writes a word or phrase.  They flip it over and hand it to the person sitting next to them.  That person looks at the word or phrase and attempts to draw it on the back of the same piece of paper.  The drawing is then passed to the next individual who looks only at the drawing, and writes out a short phrase or word that describes what they think the drawing is of. And so on and so forth.  The pay off obviously comes once the cards have made the full round of the circle and come back to the original owner, where the evolution of their original word or phrase is seen.

And I thought… Why can’t that be the performance?!  It’s so perfectly simple.  It doesn’t require anyone to constantly be performing.  It’s wholly participatory, but un-agressively so.  It creates it’s own archive by default.  It’s subtle enough that it doesn’t make a spectacle of itself and could be taking place in a self contained room…  It’s so flipping simple and perfect, it’s brilliant.  It embodies the very idea of viral ontology and audience centered experiences I’m so keep to explore.  It is also sort of the very definition of failure, and I don’t even have to manipulate the situation  to create the failure!  Why am I so obtuse sometimes!?!

I’m not entirely sure how this all fits together into my crazy scheme yet, but I think I’m going to test run this idea at the 621 Cabaret in a few weeks.  Every year 621 Gallery does a fundraiser in which local artists and performers create an act and then put on a cabaret style show, and since I’m sitting on the board this year, I got suckered into performing…  But I think it might be a good venue to explore this idea, if I can make it happen with in a 10 minute time frame…  Always gotta make it hard on myself.


More soon.

A Press Release…

It’s been a lazy, kind of busy holiday… But I’m back and better than ever.  Fired up to finally pop out this thesis and the accompanying arts.  An update on that another time.  Today I just quickly want to share with you all the press release for the Live Amateurs exhibition I’m participating in, which opens this Saturday!  Feel free to share it around.  :)  See ya kids soon.


LIVE AMATEURS at MINT Gallery-Press Release


Screen Shot 2014-01-06 at 6.25.31 PM Screen Shot 2014-01-06 at 6.25.47 PM


Hi.  You guys might have noticed things disappearing around here…  Like my portfolio, or cv, or all the other things that got deleted.  NEVER FEAR!  I’ve finally set up a website, and all of that professional-like stuff is now at  So you can wander over there at your leisure and check it out.  I’ll still be posting studio updates and all of my random tangent-y goodness over here, but since it’s about time for me to be professional and respectable, I needed to split the blog from the portfolio.  Hopefully you all hang around anyway!




Theising (I’ve turned it into a Verb…)

Holy cow.  I have no idea why, but man did people blow up my blog last weekend!  My phone was literally buzzing and beeping every 5 minutes for about 12 hours.  That’s never been a thing before… So thanks to you all who came and checked me out here, and for everyone who also started following me as a result.  It’s nice to feel special every once in awhile.  I apologize if I don’t follow you in return, but I can’t keep up with everything anymore.  Rest assured you are noted.


I’ve been terribly absent recently, and for that I apologize.  A lot of things went very wrong back in August, and then my marriage kind of started to… unravel.  And I went into survival mode.  Which means I was functioning on a day to day, minute to minute basis, just trying to keep my head above water.  Seriously.  My brain was elsewhere.  But now I’m back on track, and that’s happy!  I’ve been digging through my “sketch books”  (in quotes because I don’t actually ever sketch… EVER), and pulling out all the random ideas I wrote down but forgot about.  Then through a very scientific process I am calling The Whiteboard, I’ve been sorting them out, making connections, and basically trying to understand what my thesis is actually going to be.  You see, I’ve been theising hardcore.  I’ve also been working on a professional website, job applications, teaching, and drinking copious amounts of coffee…Well, copious for me anyway.


Back to the theising…  As it stands right now, the written paper will probably revolve around my failure/success research as well as my interest in the way that photography mediates and fails as a tool for documentation.  I’ve been reading a really great book about Performance art and archive, Perform, Repeat, Record:  Live Art in History which has helped me to clarify my thoughts as they relate to performance and photography, as well as introduced me to the idea of a viral ontology of performance art.  The essay this idea comes from (The Viral Ontology of Performance), was written by Christopher Bedford.  He contends that a performance cannot be limited to it’s “originary” event.  Rather, he says it “[S]plinters, mutates, and multiplies over time in the hands of various critical constituencies in a variety of media, to yield a body of critical work that extends the primary act of the performance into the indefinite future of reproduction.”  I’m really drawn to this idea for two main reasons.  The first is that it implies that any document made during the originating performance, cannot and should not define the work.  As I feel that photographs fail to capture the performance fully anyway, this makes perfect sense to me.  Secondly, the idea of a viral ontology extends the ephemeral nature of the performance.  The performance happened within a certain time and space, which cannot be recreated or made concrete outside of documentation.  Since these documents are all that exist, and not the  thing itself (unlike say a painting), they move forward in time, being constantly re-contextualized, re-interpreted, but never concrete.  I’m not sure that makes sense…. It does to me though.  In any event, I’m excited about that.


The work itself is 99% likely to be performance and installation based.  I’m playing around with some ideas involving playing telephone (almost literally…) and mediating the viewer’s experience of the performance in order to address both the ideas of failure and the primacy of my viewer’s experience in the context of my work.  I was considering doing something with handing out fake awards to my fellow MFAs that constantly moved around all night….  Buuuuut maybe not.  In any case… This shit is real.  It’s happening.  In like less 6 months.  Crap.  I’ve now given myself an anxiety attack.


That Whiteboard thing I mentioned earlier?  Yeah… Not joking, it is my scientific process.  This is what’s been happing in the studio lately:


There is just something about writing that helps me focus.  It is so way better than sketching.  ;)  Hopefully I’ll be back on track with the blog posting now, but I make no promises!  Have a peachy keen evening… I’m off to eat some dinner and check out a visiting artist lecture here at FSU.

Positive Experience/Negative Reinforcement

It’s obviously been quite some time since I’ve been around here.  I can’t even say that it’s been time well spent doing things to post on here.  So instead, I’m going to pretend like I was never even gone…  Yeah.

Anyway.  I (finally) did a performance last weekend at SMALLS here in town.  The idea for the performance sort of came to me randomly, and as a bit of a joke.  Recently I’ve been contemplating the reasons why I love photography (the process, but not the product) as well as the way our culture depends upon photography to record our memories.  The thing however, is that most of us, with our super smart phones and the dozens of photos it takes every day, NEVER LOOK AT THOSE PICTURES AGAIN.  We literally mediate our experiences in order to create these photos, and then forget them.  Oh, sure, maybe we might see them when we flip through quickly to find pictures to delete to make room for more pictures, or we might see them briefly when we look at their comments on Facebook, but we certainly never print them, or cherish them in a photo album.  So then, to me, the question is, do we even need the photograph to remember that moment?  No, I don’t think so…

So I set up a mini photography studio at this local alternative space, and invited people in to have their photograph done.  Using a 4×5 camera, I created portraits by working with each individual, asking them how they wished to be photographed.  I then issued them a number and told them I would get them their image before they left.  Additionally I took copious notes on a post-it with their number on it, about what they were wearing and what happened during our abbreviated session.  What my subjects didn’t know, was that my film holders were empty, and that when I went in to the “darkroom” to process their images, I was simply pulling out a sheet of undeveloped film from a box and placing it in an envelope along with a hand written note from me.  The note was a summation of our experience together, culminating in the phrase, “You do not need a photograph to remember this experience.”  I then signed and dated it.  Each participant was given a sealed envelope with “their picture” in it to open at their leisure.  At first people were confused, but in the end, I think a lot of people really enjoyed it, even got a kick out of it.

I chose a large format camera for a couple of reasons.  First of all, this allowed me an individual negative for each person I photographed.  Secondly, it never fails to impress visually, and people automatically take it seriously.  Along with this, using a view camera is somewhat more time intensive.  You can’t simply point and shoot.  Finally, and this is a piece that really only I knew about, but am amused by nonetheless… I used Kodak Ektachrome slide film.  A totally obsolete technology.  I only happened to have some (which was outdated), because a professor of mine donated a couple of boxes to me in undergrad.  I’ve been hanging on to it for years, thinking I would find some really good reason to use it… But never have.  I think this was a perfect use.  :)  This amuses me because people were so excited when they found out they would be getting a picture very quickly.  We most certainly live in a culture of instant gratification… and I gave them not that.

A lot of this plays on the importance of the experience I try to emphasize with in my work.  I think that as a whole, people have forgotten to live in the present.  We live in the future, we live in the past, and we live our lives digitally mediated through various devices.  We put those devices between ourselves and the experiences around us.  For me, this performance was just a way of reminding those present that they don’t really need a photograph, or to make a photograph, to experience or remember a given moment in time.  All they have to do is live it.

Never Fear…I’m Still Alive.

Hi.  I know I’ve been gone an awfully long time.  This time it’s not because I was being lazy, or avoiding things… It’s because life decided to really challenge me and my sanity.  In the last two months I’ve had (in no particular order):

-a broken refrigerator

-a stolen scooter

-a broken stove

-a few teaching issues

-a flooded house

-extreme lack of communication leading to confusion and my community classes getting canceled

-an exhaustingly epic trip to New York City

-several crises in my private/personal life


Oh, and I’ve been working on job searching and applications and researching my written thesis.



Anyway, I promise I’m working on new posts for you all about the show and studio happenings, it’s just been slow goings.  I’ll also share with you my trip to NY…  Just please be patient.  Please?  I’ll bake you cookies… No, wait I take that back. Baking won’t help anything (except allowing me to eat my feelings) because then it will take me longer to get these posts out.  THEY’RE COMING, I PROMISE!  Until then, enjoy this picture.  I even took it myself, with my DSLR!

Empire State Building_08

Show Time!

Yes… That’s a safety harness. It’s all part of the performance.

While I may or may not have been avoiding blogging here recently, I have been up to many other things, including (what I hope to be) a really rocking collaboration with my friend Craig (you can find him over at Craig Ryan Studio). I’ve been sworn to secrecy on exactly what we’re doing because he’s terrified it will turn out terribly (maybe that anxiety is why we get along so well? lol) so I can’t go into specifics, but I’m going to share some generalities and pictures with you.

It’s really been a trip to work on this installation/performance with Craig because in a lot of ways we are total opposites. He’s a bit of a sociopath (I mean that in the nicest way possible), and likes to pretend he’s mean and too good for everyone, but really, if you take the time to get to know him, he’s an amazing person. I, on the other hand, and too damn nice for my own good and secretly hate most people. When it comes to our practices and the work we make, we are like day and night though. Craig is completely materials focused and has astounding technical fabrication skills. He wants to make beautiful things that people want to touch. Clearly worlds away from my own conceptual, relational approach, but in reality these two approaches met and made beautiful art babies. His technical/materials focus has augmented and supported my conceptual intents, and my insistence on having a theme have focused his sometimes erratic material investigations. It worked somehow. I’ve learned a lot about the way that I think and the ways that I share my ideas, simply through the contrast between our approaches and communication styles. It’s been fun and exciting and I think we managed to transcend our differing approaches to find a wonderful balance in what we hope to present on Friday. We’re both excited about what we’ve got planned. And that never happens.


A piece of the installation. There will be about 8 of these in the end.
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A general schematic of the performance. Make sense of it if you can!


While Craig and I each have drastically differing takes on what this piece will be or mean in the end, for me, this collaboration grew out of some things I had been contemplating a researching this summer, including ideas about the relationship between performance art and it’s photographic documentation, and the trustworthiness of photography in general. It was also driven in part by my desire to move into more relational works. I think that I’ve hit that intent on the head with what we have planned. But I also think that it’s starting to address some other really interesting issues, like mediation of experience, trust, balance, self-preservation, control and a certain amount of playfulness. I’d really like to look back at this and be able to say “Yep. That’s where my thesis work really started.” It’s going to be epic.