As I Am, Reborn: The Art Of Nyela

"...I don't believe that boy ain't scared of nothing." - a blackout poem

2014-08-08T12:19:00.001-04:00

Months ago, I rescued a pair of books from my local library that were to be discarded. convinced that I could make something with them. I've seen lots of altered books, cut paper pieces, and other works that use old books to make works that are clever, creative, and beautiful; it was time for me to play, to figure out what I could do.

They quickly became just another thing added to my space.

Yesterday, I happened to come across Laura E. Davis' recent blackout poem "the bride". I'd never heard of blackout poems before, but I was curious (as I often am). She explained that a blackout poem "usually begins with the source text in hard form, like a newspaper article, and the poet redacts text...leaving behind a poem".

It was my turn. I pulled out those aforementioned old books and rifled through my supplies to see how I might bring something to fruition. Laura was spot on with her guess that they'd be natural for me, though I don't often write poems and I'd never used words in my work before.

I opened the book to a random spot, circling words and phrases that caught my eye, that I could bring together to tell a story. I then drew what came to mind as it came together. Not much time passed before I had something.

I didn't want him to forget what I told him.

I went to another world; come and take him home.

Someone left, crying.

I don't believe that boy ain't scared of nothing.

I reached for him.

Let's go.

"...I don't believe that boy ain't scared of nothing."9"x12"
mixed media on paper

I'm curious to know what you all think. I may do more of these.

Textual source: Never As Good As The First Time by Mari Walker, St. Martin's Griffin, 2008

Twitter Art Exhibit: Orlando

2014-02-03T11:41:00.000-05:00

I tweet.

A lot.

A lot a lot.

Okay, I don't tweet nearly as much as some, but definitely more than others. I read my tweet stream often; that's where I learn about (at least initially) a lot of the themes that show up in my work. It is also where I learned about the #TwitterArtExhibit. This year--the show's fourth--is in Orlando, Florida, and the sales of the postcard sized works entered will benefit the Special Needs Dance Programs of the Center for Contemporary Dance.

I think I first learned of this last year. I remember enquiring about the deadline, and (almost as promptly) letting it pass by. I don't know why making such a small work was met in my mind with so much resistance, but it was. This year, I had been seeing quite a few Orlando-bound works in my Twitter feed, but it wasn't until very recently that I sat down and started to sketch something out.

* * *

"I stay 'woke."

The above is a slang phrase used sometimes, when someone wishes to let others know that they are always paying attention, guarded, observant, vigilant, with a response at the ready. Someone that "stays 'woke" has their own ideas and opinions about everything they see and never blindly accepts the narrative given by those in authority. They aren't hesitant to make those opinions known to all who might listen. If I had to guess the origin of the phrase I would pin it to the final scenes of the 1988 Spike Lee film "School Daze":

Quite a few of the film's characters were literally waking up as they gathered outside in pajamas and nightgowns around Dap (Laurence Fishburne) as he yelled and rang a shrill, piercing bell. Dap wanted his peers to be aware and take notice of all that was going on around them, both in the world at large and the microcosm of that world in which the film was set, a HBCU (Historically Black College/University) campus in the late 1980s. The film ends as Fishburne gazes directly at the camera and says in a quieter, slightly pleading voice directly to the viewer, "Please. Wake up."

"Please. Wake up."

And so she is. Facing the viewer but not seeing them, she stretches, rubbing sleep from her eyes. It is morning, because she dared to see.

Morning (When I Dared to See)
gouache and graphite on paper
4"x6"

Just ask...

2013-08-26T13:30:00.000-04:00

Just asking seems both easier and requiring more courage than actually making art, but equally as vital, as illustrated by Amanda Palmer's TED talk from earlier this year.

And I am terrible at it.

It's terrifying and yes, as she mentioned, it does feel like begging. It isn't though. Begging implies that you are asking for something for nothing. I don't dare speak for other artists, but what I do isn't nothing. It is the complete opposite of that; I make paintings and draw things and write things for a lot of reasons. One of the most important is that I want to share myself, to give of myself to the hundreds of thousands of people with whom I share this planet.

I will be the first to admit that I am not nearly as courageous as she is. Intriguing as it sounds, the idea of painting myself and standing on a city street in a wedding dress as a living statue makes my stomach churn. Even more frightening is the prolonged exchange of eye contact, or thought of stripping naked and letting people draw on me. I easily recognize the impulse to do this as the same one that inspires my most honest paintings and blog posts, but somehow (at least in my case) it doesn't seem to be enough.

"So I had the most profound encounters with people, especially lonely people who looked like they hadn't talked to anyone in weeks, and we would get this beautiful moment of prolonged eye contact being allowed in a city street, and we would sort of fall in love a little bit. And my eyes would say, 'Thank you. I see you.' And their eyes would say, 'Nobody ever sees me. Thank you.'"

I think the missing bit for me is encounters with people, face-to-face. I spend so much time on the internet; I freely admit that I don't always want to see people nor do I want to always be seen. I want the sense of direct connection to people that Palmer talks about here, that seems so vital to her career, but I'm scared of it too.

This is where I come to you, internet. I am asking. Challenge me to make art in the company of others, to make connections with people in my own ways, to find my own ways to be a living statue, at least metaphorically speaking. ~~I'm not sure I can~~ I can't be the painter/performer/writer I dream of being if I don't challenge myself to perform, so I am asking for your help. I am adding a 'tip jar' to the left hand sidebar of this blog; donate as you are able. For those that can, buy my paintings. Make them a part of your world.

Thank you, Amanda Palmer.

State of the Artist: August 2013

2013-08-26T08:42:00.000-04:00

Happy Monday!

I really should post here more often, if not about the work I'm making at least about the work I'm seeing. I'd like to go see Witness: The Art of Jerry Pinkney at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Some of you may know his work well, as I do, from the many children's books he has illustrated over the years. I loved reading as a child (I still do, actually) and dreamed of illustrating books myself someday. Perhaps I could write a little here about my most loved children's books and how they influenced me as an artist?

Wise Words

"Nothing is more apt to deceive us than our own judgement of our work. We derive more benefit from having our faults pointed out by our enemies than from hearing the opinions of friends." --Leonardo da Vinci (1452 - 1519)

I love the glowing praise my art gets from the people who love it. It makes me happy when people tell me that my work is "strong" and "bold and rooted in emotion". It lets me know that I'm connecting with an audience, however small, and sharing in something mutually meaningful.

Sometimes, something--or everything--I've done is not to an individual's taste and that's fine, but there's nothing to be done with that.

Tell me you don't like my work. In truth, we gain more in the long run from criticism of a constructive nature. The key word there is, of course, constructive. It's okay, really...but tell me why. Therein lies creative advancement. I can learn from that. I can see where something might not be working.

Current Projects

Paintings in Progress: 3

That's okay, I guess. I like working on a few different things at once, so no one piece feels forced. I can take the time I need to consider what comes next in each piece, since they rarely ever come to my mind fully formed, ready to be 'born', as it were. Works come together in bits and pieces, over a period of weeks or months, and I have had to learn to be okay with that. I was hoping for more of a response on my last post, as I know it is a topic that (usually) elicits strong feelings from a lot of people.

You can always see more of my in progress work on my Twitter and Instagram.

I am also writing a performance piece! This work is new to me; it's scary and exciting and maybe even dangerous, but it feels right.

Miscellany

Those of you who don't keep up with me on Facebook might not know that Hyacinth Girl Press' newest chapbook Darling Hands, Darling Tongue by Sally Rosen Kindred is available now. It's a darling little collection of Peter Pan-inspired poems for which I did the cover art (prints of which are available here, in my Redbubble shop). I love the sheer variety of art and artists--both poetry and visual--of the works published by Margaret Bashaar and the team at HGP.

I am thinking of making this State of the Artist a monthly thing. What say you, internet?

Keep your legislation away from my body. Period.

2013-07-22T10:00:00.000-04:00

Unless you've been hiding under a rock, I'm sure you're well aware of the Republican 'war on women' in the United States. Since the 2010 midterms, legislators in dozens of states have systematically worked to undermine Roe v. Wade and close Planned Parenthood and other women's health care facilities, severely restricting access to abortion, which is still, supposedly, a constitutional right.

As of now, there are several U.S. states where abortion clinics have been almost or completely legislated out of existence: Mississippi, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Arkansas, among others.

I'm sure you have heard of "Governor Ultrasound". First, Robert McDonnell of Virginia, then, months later, Scott Walker of Wisconsin signed legislation that forces women seeking an abortion to undergo a medically unnecessary trans-vaginal ultrasound. Despite overwhelming opposition in Texas that included an eleven hour filibuster by Senator Wendy Davis, Governor Rick Perry managed to bring to fruition legislation that will force a majority of abortion clinics in that state to shut their doors.

Why do all of these (typically male) legislators take such a perverse pleasure in controlling other people's bodies?

One of the paintings I am working on now seeks to explore this.

I want to literally tell the story of the pro-choice movement on her body.

Please suggest images I could use to do this; I would add them to her body like tattoos. I want to try to refrain from using words, but feel free to leave links to pictures and stories and/or comment with phrases and ideas.

Lion/ess: The Myth of the Strong Black Woman

2012-12-19T15:45:00.001-05:00

Lion/ess: The Myth of the Strong Black Woman
20"x24"
Digital

...

Exploring Silence

2012-12-05T20:30:00.002-05:00

Does my work break silence?

I believe that it does, yes—with line, shape, and color. I compose pieces very deliberately, even if my intention is hidden away from everyone, including myself. My innate sense of how to use forms and figures is... what? I guess it is in service of Story, that elusive thing that everyone understands both differently and exactly the same. I break silence by attempting to articulate feelings—either with images or with words—as honestly as possible.

There is not enough honesty in the world.

Everyone is hiding. I hide too, behind my work, between my words…but it is there. I am there. Behind, around, between. Right there. You can see me if you look.

The act of making work breaks my silence.

I am so often silent, because I am so often by myself. I don’t need to make a sound, my voice rings loudly through my thoughts. There is a large, more pervasive silence with my work, the silence that comes when people encounter difference.

Silence roars.

I associate sleep with silence, an empty room, a blank sheet of paper or canvas, and the multihued black that exists behind your eyelids when you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.

Is there silence in my work? If there is, I don’t recognize it as such. How do I find the silence there, even as I try so hard to give it words?

Sketches!

2012-11-05T11:22:00.001-05:00

Here are some sketches representative of the pieces I am currently working on. Some are only parts of images, while others show the entirety (well, more or less) of a piece.

They represent images I intend to paint digitally and traditionally, using a variety of media and techniques.

Curious? I hope you stay tuned for what is to come!

"Lion/ess" (WIP)

2012-10-10T08:49:00.000-04:00

I have a few works in progress right now. It feels amazing to constantly be working on this or that; I was so very inspired by my last residency at Goddard College a few weeks ago. This was one of the pieces I presented there, at one of our Considered Space critique sessions.

This is the first piece that I've done completely digitally, though it began its life on canvas. This iteration only came about because I was having so much difficulty rendering the fantastical (male) feline and (human) female elements in a way I felt worked together well. In all honesty, they are still a work in progress.

Those of you that follow me on Facebook and Twitter have seen this in its original form, on canvas. What do you all think of the differences?

Stay tuned for more!

Why Beginnings Suck and Why You Have To Begin Anyway

2012-07-19T10:33:00.001-04:00

Note: I share this post from Kesha Bruce's blog, as it sums up a lot of what I've been feeling lately. Beginnings do suck. Begin anyway.

"Let me take the idea that has gotten me this far, and put it to bed. What I'm about to do will not be that. But it will be something." -Ze Frank

This week I’m back in the studio full time after a long hiatus while I was working on other things.

I’ve managed to clear a lot of blur and noise from my life so I can just focus on making my work for the next few months.

Beginnings are scary.

Sure, beginnings can be craaaaazy exciting, but they can also suck. A lot.

Momentum is a powerful thing, but at the beginning of any new project—you have none.

Right now I am at the grunting, groaning, “this sucks so effing much” part.

My only reassurance being “I’ve done this before, I can probably do it again.”

Here’s the thing: When you start, you always start from the beginning.

There are no short cuts worth taking.

Just begin.

Kesha Bruce is an artist and the director of Baang and Burne Contemporary Art in New York. Her ideas on art marketing and creativity can be found on her blog at www.keshabrucestudio.com.

"Games as Art" at the Grassroots Gaming Conference

2012-04-25T14:38:00.000-04:00

I like games.

I like design.

When I found out there was a Grassroots Games Conference here in Philadelphia, and, as part of that conference, there was a Games as Art track, I was intrigued. I think the majority of those in attendance were developers; I was surprised to find out that the very first presenter was an artist. “Labs, Galleries and Arcades: Making Space(s) for Art/Games” was the name of this presentation. The presenter was Sarah Brin, Creative Director of GlitchLab LA, an arts organization dedicated to experiments in participatory new media, and co-founder of PEG-LA, a playtest group for games in public spaces. She talked about games as ‘experiences’ and ‘social culture’ and spoke of the shared nostalgia among those who grew up playing various types of games. Her ideas about and examples of participatory new media are inspiring: arcade cabinets and games brought into the gallery spaces, encouraging reciprocity between art and viewers. Those same games, brought into parties and other social spaces, sought to challenge ideas about what art is and where it belongs. The next event was a rather informal panel—“Games and Gamification as Art Practice”—that set out to explore the methods and processes extending creative work into game environments. The panelists came from a variety of backgrounds such as painting, illustration, and graphic design, and all made art clearly inspired by games while tackling a variety of societal concerns such as urban blight. Of course, there were some works inspired by various internet and pop culture memes. Styles ranged from those found in hyper realistic next gen games like those for the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 to heavily pixelated works reminiscent of 8-bit games like those for the Atari 2600 and Nintendo Entertainment Systems.

I began to imagine my own art in a different framework, one with an element of participation and engagement, maybe even play. I thought of the roleplaying game, in which players are immersed in an environment and are tasked with playing through a story. I like the idea of a kind of reciprocity between image, artist, and viewer. At any rate, it is something I am going to think more about, with the goal of possibly incorporating it into my work.

The final event was a panel presentation exploring the intersection of art and video games including Alyce Myatt, Director for Media Arts at the National Endowment for the Arts; Georgina Goodlander, coordinator for The Art of Video Games exhibition at the Smithsonian Museum of American Art; Sarah Brin, Creative Director of GlitchLab LA, an arts organization dedicated to experiments in participatory new media, and co-founder of PEG-LA, a playtest group for games in public spaces; and James Swirsky & Lisanne Pajot, the filmmakers behind the award-winning documentary, Indie Game: The Movie. To say I was shocked that a major museum like the Smithsonian even cared enough about video games to have an exhibition made up of them is an understatement. Ms. Goodlander did not hesitate to emphasize that this exhibit was not made up of ‘art’ or ‘indie’ games, but of familiar, mainstream titles. She talked about the preservation of games and consoles as part of the museum’s permanent collection, and how the recent funding from the NEA to games and game-related projects helped her justify such an exhibit to those who run the Smithsonian. The panelists also discussed topics like the place of video games in art history.

Apparently, the NEA is just beginning to provide funding for games and game-related projects. Ms. Myatt briefly discussed this round of projects. She seemed excited and hopeful for the future of this particular branch of media arts.

I think I am too.

Unsatisfied

2012-04-13T13:54:00.000-04:00

There are times when it is difficult to translate the cerebral to the visual.

My responses to the murder of seventeen-year-old Trayvon Martin made me want to paint, so overwhelming was my outrage, helplessness, and anger. I've written pages and pages in my journals--about the media coverage of this case, about the lack of innocence that implied for those born into a black body, about all the things I felt were done incorrectly by local law enforcement--and I needed to release all of this.

I had a drawing I began months ago whose original story (if there was one) is lost to me now. I began expanding upon it in hopes that I could create a specific visual code to express all that I felt. First, I felt I needed to include the most enduring symbol of this case, the hoodie Trayvon wore the rainy February night he was killed. I then planned to let go, to see where thought and feeling took this piece as I became a mere vessel for the story this painting needed to tell.

Many days have passed. I remain unsatisfied with the image I've created. I realize that it is incomplete. Still, there is more here, trapped between my head, my heart, and my hands.

A new adventure...at the heart of my mind!

2012-03-15T09:00:00.000-04:00

I've now returned from my first semester's residency at Goddard College.

Goddard College - Port Townsend, WA

I'm full of new ideas and a renewed curiosity. My study plan is all about creating a more 'body-centered' art practice, because if all the labels of race, gender, sexual orientation, and sexuality are stripped away, what remains? Someone commented that this seemed to be my way to connect form to process and content in my work, and I can't help but agree.

What will the 'body-centered' part of this look like?

From my Spring 2012 study plan:

In order to build a more embodied art practice, I will work with manual processes and traditional media: figure drawing, large paintings that use my entire body, sculptural body casts, and linocuts, lithographs, and serigraphs made by hand. I recognize that it is possible to engage in these very physical processes and not reconnect with my body. To that end, I will use movement: Kundalini yoga, the sensory-based Nia, ecstatic dance, and the movement-based acting technique known as Viewpoints. As I do these exercises, I want to record the knowledge from my body in a journal. What will begin as weekly classes I want to become part of my daily life. The works I intend to make this semester will focus on the female form in ways I never have before, as my own body awareness increases. My body has nearly three decades of stories gathered within it. It is time for me to learn to listen to them.

Wait. What? Serigraphs? Lithographs? Yes. I have long wanted to explore more and varied printmaking processes, because I am curious and because different printmaking techniques yield very different looking results. I'd like to spend a bit this semester playing with media of all kinds, even if nothing tangible comes from it. No matter the media, though, I want to concentrate on my body as subject and object in my work.

I have a feeling this will lead to lots of very interesting work.

Oh, and feel free to recommend other artists whose work I should look at, books I should read, or shows I should check out.

Disconnect (Letting Go is Flying)

2012-02-06T10:58:00.003-05:00

Disconnect (Letting Go is Flying)
©07/2011
12"x18"
mixed media on paper
This piece is available for purchase.

There is such a thing as too much self-awareness.

This piece came from a repetitive theme in some of my journal entries: a feeling of disconnect between my physical body and my emotions or between myself and other people. It wasn't even something I recognized as such until I heard the song Private Party by India.Arie.

"I'm gonna take off all my clothes
Look at myself in the mirror
We're gonna have a conversation
We're gonna heal the disconnection
I don't remember when it started
But this is where it's gonna end
My body is beautiful and sacred
And I'm gonna celebrate it"

In dreams, a very clear picture of myself emerged. I was light and airy, floating like a balloon, my disconnection from my physical self never more obvious. It was my way of separating the parts of myself that I believed were valuable and worthy from those parts that made me frustrated, angry, that I hurt and that hurt other people.

"All my life (all my life)
I've been looking for (I've been looking for)
Somebody else
To make me whole
But I had to learn the hard way
True love begins with me
This is not ego or vanity
I'm just celebrating me"

No matter where and how far I run, I will still be there...and that's okay.

Artist Statement (Or, Reading the Visual)

2012-01-19T09:55:00.000-05:00

In July, I completely rewrote my artist statement, partly in preparation for applying to graduate school and partly because sitting down and thinking about why I make what I do feels vital to continuing and growing within my chosen art form.

Of all the definitions of what an artist statement is or what it does, this description gave me pause: Your artist's statement can be a moving testament to your creativity and integrity. The expression of this commitment will vary, but the effectiveness of your artist's statement stems from the authority with which you write it. I was taken aback, mostly because I've never thought of myself as an authority on anything, especially not art making. In my mind, I simply did what I did, from a very specific point of view. I didn't realize it at the time, but in doing that, I had authority. With art, I have the power to influence or command thought, opinion, or behavior. All I needed to do is find it and broadcast it to the world.

But first, I had to find the words with which I could communicate that authority, that power. More importantly, I needed to believe that I had it and show it in my work as well as in the ways I write and speak of that work.

After lots of writing, using the questions on the above-linked site as a guide, I feel this statement is my way of beginning to claim that power, that authority:

My artistic practice stems from my history of trauma, of being cast aside, of not knowing, of being made to feel unsafe, unwanted, and without value because of gender, race, culture and sexual identity. I examine and deconstruct the relationships between feeling a sense of "otherness" and developing a perception of self that seeks connections and strives to find beauty in contrasts as well as the links between urban life, identity, memory, nature, personal mythology, and magical-spiritual belief. In trying to find my voice, I endeavor, as Frida Kahlo said, to “paint my own reality”. The female form is incorporated into many of my works, even as I question the idea of femininity. It is the body into which I was born; I use it as symbol, as metaphor, as a vessel that holds hundreds of thousands of years of stories in its ample bosom and the curves of waists, hips, thighs, and stomachs. My works are about changing identities, giving birth over and over again to new and varied definitions of self as we go through the changes of life. Urban imagery often overlaps that of the natural world, as do the ideas of privilege and disadvantage, hope and despair, roughness and healing.I use a variety of media. Each process--painting, printmaking, collage, and mixed media-- transforms both my materials and the way I think about them into something new and different, as we are changed when we share ourselves and our stories with others. Story is how I was first taught history; my art is deeply rooted in both.

A message from Ira Glass to all who do creative work

2011-10-11T16:27:00.002-04:00

It really is just that simple.

Regardless of the creative work you do, you just need to do it. I post this video for me as much as I post it for others, because there are periods of time--days, weeks, sometimes even months--where I am not doing the work of creating. I catch myself doing anything but creating, for a variety of reasons.

I think back to the work I did in college, most of which no longer exists. All of the ideas central to my current work were there. I still ask similar questions. If anything, I ask more questions. Asking questions is a good thing, a great thing...but making the work is the only way to share the questions so that we can all search for answers together.

Chimamanda Adichie: The danger of a single story

2011-08-23T14:03:00.001-04:00

"Stories matter. Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign, but stories can also be used to empower and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of a people, but stories can also repair that broken dignity."

My art and this blog are my stories and the stories of those who look and love and live in ways similar to me. These stories may or may not be in direct opposition to how black Americans are portrayed in popular culture, but that is but one story. As Adichie said in the video, "the consequence of the single story is this: it robs people of dignity. It makes our recognition of our equal humanity difficult. It emphasizes how we are different rather than how we are similar."

An important distinction to make is that although we as people are similar, we--as members of various ethnicities and genders and sexual orientations, with various levels of ability--are not all on equal terms in society. She speaks in the video about a global scale; my perspective, though speaking of black Americans specifically, seems to be the same, though her thoughts seem a bit overly simplistic.

"The single story creates stereotypes. And the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story."

Revisiting Collage

2011-07-11T16:47:00.000-04:00

Collage is a medium I gravitate to every now and again, mostly when I look at magazines and decorative papers and even bits of typography and see things I imagine could be used elsewhere, in a different story. Yesterday afternoon, I began looking, inspired by collages I saw on Black Art in America...and I found quite a bit.

A friend of mine asked me to explain the criteria I use to pick what I cut out, and the simple answer is that I choose shapes and colors that catch my eye. There are a lot of images that are common to my work, such trees, women and girls, and urban imagery. There is a bit of deep orange, a gilded picture frame, a few doors, some blue from a sky...and I have no idea how or when or even if it will all come together.

Let's see what happens, shall we?

6x6 Summer Blog Tour!

2011-07-05T07:00:00.058-04:00

When I first heard about 6x6, I was excited, in awe of two women that could put together such an amazing project...and of course, I wanted to learn more. I got a chance to ask Kesha Bruce, co-director of Baang and Burne Contemporary Art a few questions about the business of art in general and 6x6 specifically. A common theme was relationships between artists, their art, and audiences. Here's what she shared:

Nyela: You say selling art is about building relationships...but with whom? How?
Kesha: I always tell my consulting clients: “Stop hunting Unicorns!” By that I mean--understand that most “art collectors” don’t walk around calling themselves “art collectors”. It’s not a job title. Just think about the last 3 people who bought one of your artworks. Were they rich celebrity “art collectors” that sit on museum boards and give thousands of dollars each year to art foundations? If so, great! But most likely it was a person who really liked the work, and really liked you, and decided to buy your work. They are an art collector.

Artists need to make a habit of consistently staying in touch my e-mail and by snail mail with people that show interest in their work. Every artist should constantly be adding new people to their mailing list. These people are your collector base!

Nyela: How can artists work together to promote their work?
Kesha: Obviously, I think more artists should get together and produce their own exhibitions. It doesn’t have to be a big production or even a formal, tradition exhibition for that matter. It could be as simple as 3 artists getting together and each hanging 5 pieces of artwork in someone’s living room for an evening. These type of smaller intimate events are a great way to invite people to see your new work in a more laid back fun way.

I say this all the time: Other artists aren’t your competition. They’re your greatest allies. Always remember that.

Nyela: How did you pick the group of artists that would be exhibiting in 6x6? Do they have any particular thing in common in terms of style or theme?
Kesha: There’s a lot of truth to the saying “It’s all about who you know.” When Charlie Grosso and I formed Baang and Burne we picked a group of artists that not only made work we loved, but who we already knew and trusted. The artists I brought on, I had met when I was an Artist-in-Residence at the Vermont Studio Center. I had worked with them day in and day out over the course of a month so I knew their work well and I knew they would be easy to work with personality wise. In the end, I chose people I already had great relationships with. In the end it always comes back to relationships!

To read more about 6x6, read Kesha’s weekly articles on art, art marketing, and creativity and to download a free copy of her guide “The 5 Step Art Career Make-Over” visit her blog at www.keshabrucestudio.com.

"Flee", but from what? Where?

2011-06-29T09:07:00.000-04:00

Flee
9"x12"
acrylic on canvas

I am a restless person at times, often easily frustrated, and this painting is a product of that. I've long felt as if there were external forces holding me in place and I was powerless to change them; I am moving forward, but not nearly fast enough for me.

I can't flee from myself. In the end, I know I will be right where I'd expect, with all the faults and flaws I've always had.

Offering

2011-06-27T12:47:00.004-04:00

Offering

10"x15"

digital

Adventures in Printmaking

2011-06-24T12:22:00.001-04:00

I love linocuts. It is, above all else, a physically challenging medium, requiring patience, endurance, and attention to detail.

Over the years, I have had mixed successes with it, as I don't have access to a press and have instead had to rely on hand-pulling prints, a process that (to me, at least) is more physically arduous than cutting the linoleum. A baren (and/or a wooden or metal spoon) is used to apply pressure to the paper and force the transfer of ink from the linoleum to the paper. Sometimes I get good quality prints, with rich color and crisp whites, but not always.

Not often enough.

As you can see, this is a work still very much in progress. I plan on adding watercolor and/or collage elements to it...as soon as I can get a small edition of good quality prints.

I look at Linocult daily, and I keep trying.

After days, months, years of trying...

2011-06-21T08:43:00.001-04:00

...I am still trying to figure out what it means to live my life as an artist.

It has taken years to be able to define myself as such. When asked I used to always say I was an art student. Even when I wasn't, and I had students of my own. I never felt ready to tell others about my art; they found out about it by accident, when they saw me walking around with paint on my clothes and in my hair or even on my face, or when they saw me with a sketchbook in hand. Then, as now, my sketchbook is just as likely to have a random bit of writing or random doodles in it as it is to have anything potentially ready for display.

What does my life look like as an artist? How can I present myself as an artist to the world?

I wondered about the day to day, the moment to moment. How does the artist fill their hours and figure out where new works come from?

On Finding Ways to Help

2011-06-13T11:29:00.001-04:00

I recently ran into this site, for an organization called Barefoot Artists. This is a project of artist Lily Yeh, who also founded the Village for Arts and Humanities in North Philadelphia.

Immediately, my thoughts upon seeing this are "this is so cool!" and "how can I help?" To be quite honest, I wanted to know more as soon as I read Barefoot Artists mission. I didn't even have to read it in its entirety to feel that this organization has, at its core, goals similar to my own:

Barefoot Artists seeks to bear witness to the forgotten and the oppressed, and works to share their stories with the broader public to promote understanding and action.

By engaging the poorest communities around the world with "participatory and multifaceted projects that foster community empowerment, improve the physical environment, promote economic development, and preserve and promote indigenous art and culture", they are showing, not just telling how art can make individuals and communities better. I like that an organization like this seeks to learn from and develop projects with communities rather than someone coming from somewhere else telling a group of people that they are doing it wrong, whatever it may be.

From this and projects like it, I realize that I, too, can help...as soon as I figure out how.

Purify (Darkness to Light)

2011-06-09T10:30:00.000-04:00

My fascination with the human figure also extends to its underlying components--the skeleton, organs, organ systems, and musculature. I really like looking through anatomy textbooks; it is easy to see the beauty of all that lies under our skin. I then combine that with surrealistic elements--like changing the size of organs in relation to other organs or adding elements that would never exist inside one's body, such as flowers--to tell a story: in this case, of things that are wild, with a certain roughness to them, seeking light where there is none.


Purify (Darkness to Light) 9"x12" acrylic on canvas panel