Artwala Road

It snows and snows here in Boston.  I stepped out for a few minutes to shovel but thought better of going down to the studio today.   Instead I’ve stayed cozy at home and read TIBOR KALMAN: Perverse Optimist, a book about the design career of the late Tibor Kalman.  He was married to Maira Kalma who wrote the wondrous The Principles of Uncertainty.

There’s so much I love about this man.  First, he did not go to art school and taught himself which really made it impossible to be anything but quirky and funky though he did it with a lot more panache than most.  Second, he felt like an outsider because he immigrated from Hungary as a boy and kids made fun of him for being a bit plump and not speaking English.  And he kept the outsider vision throughout his career and didn’t try to fit in. Third, he had shrewd political vision.  It seems he not only saw that almost everything in art and design has to do with money but he rebelled against conformity and acceptance. All so courageous.

He had a kind of ‘accidental’ career starting as a clerk in a New York bookstore that eventually became Barnes and Noble and becoming their chief designer before moving on to a thousand other things.  Whatever he did, he made content the subject and refused to submerge it in fancy, boring packaging.  He used his clients’ commissions to say something vital, eventually becoming the designer/editor for a magazine sponsored by Bennetton called Colors, among other things.  He was whimsical and anarchical and I can’t help feeling we need some of that spunk now too.  The tide has changed, hallelujah, but we’re going to have to keep hope alive.  So reading this book on this snowy day is quickening my pulse a little and giving me all sorts of ideas.

I’m just finishing my drawing book which is based on The Saturday Morning Drawing Club, the class I teach at The Arsenal Center for the Arts.  It had way too many words.  I keep cutting and cutting which gets easier as I begin to work on the images.  And then, yesterday, the TIBOR book jumped off my bookshelf and into my hands.  I think books are like that.  They can sit still for a long time but when you really ought to be considering what they say, they just leap into your hands.  My own basic point is that through the practice of drawing and making art we can all be more anarchical, more true to ourselves, braver, wilder, more fun, more empowered, more TIBOR, which I’m now making into an adjective.

BTW, the painting here is the cover of the book—painted in India from a mailed in photo for $40.  Isn’t it fabulous?

And now, out to shovel again.

January 28th, 2009 | Category: Dear Reader | Comments (2)

Will we ever forget where we were yesterday when Barack Obama was sworn in as President of the United States?  We four artists who have studios at the art center all crammed into my next door neighbor’s to watch her tiny old 12″ TV.  Just as things were about to start one of us dashed out to get a box of tissues then we settled in, three sitting on the cement floor, one standing. When Obama put his hand on Lincoln’s Bible the tears started. And we’re just four white women—I can only imagine the tears of the black women all over this country.  He simply took our breath away with the vision he holds for this country and the world, how he dares to ask for what we all truly want without hesitation or compromise.  I especially loved how he sees a world beyond tribalism.

Last night Dear A and I set out for our favorite restaurant in Cambridge to celebrate despite all the snow.  The restaurant slashed their prices, brought in a band and renamed everything on the menu—Obama Soup, Obama Salad, Obama Chicken and so on.  Delicious.  We didn’t stay to dance because the band was a little late getting there.  But we were hanging out in the bar watching the big TV when Beyoncé sang and the Obamas danced.  The whole place went wild.

This must be a quantum leap.  in science a quantum is a very tiny unit of measurement but a quantum leap is gigantic.  In one moment an atom is in one orbit then in the same moment it’s in another higher orbit without moving through any of the intervening steps.  We’re in another orbit now and more leaps are coming.

Meanwhile everyone’s walking around with smiles on their faces.  Strangers are saying hi to each other and I’m still trying to believe how absolutely fantastic that benediction was.  True art on the planet.  One old black man going way over the top and just saying it just he sees it. This time we laughed.  Amen, brother.

January 21st, 2009 | Category: Dear Reader, Interviews | Comments (5)

Isn’t it amazing?  All the energy and excitement, all the hope.  I’m writing this at 10:30, the night before, thinking already about my day tomorrow.  My fellow artists and I at the art center are starting a yoga practice together.  Just so happens that tomorrow morning is our first day which seems fitting because yoga is all about finding and creating inner peace.   It’s peace we all want—peace between countries and freedom from war, peace in our selves and freedom from poverty, prejudice and limitation of all kinds.  It will be nice to practice yoga together—art and writing are solitary pursuits but we share a vision of being artists of change, artists who might bring some light into the world, each in our own ways.  Yoga will strengthen us as will camaraderie. Later I’ll dash back home to watch the ceremony on TV.  Dear A will be ensconced in a work ‘retreat,’ poor thing, so I’ll have to watch alone or drag someone back with me.  However, in the evening, we’ll be getting all dressed up, A and I, and heading off to our very favorite restaurant, Upstairs on the Square, where they’re putting on an Inauguration Dinner.  They’re even roping off a downstairs room for an Inauguration Ball.  When the manager called to confirm our reservation she said, “I hope you’ll pop downstairs for a dance or two.”  Absolutely!  “Oh, yes,” I said.  “Oh, yes!”

Let’s allow ourselves this moment of joy, one we’ll never forget.  Then let’s take that joy and roll our sleeves up.  There’s work to be done.

January 19th, 2009 | Category: Dear Reader | Comments (6)

I’ve been thinking this week about the whole creative process.  The manuscript I thought was done turns out not to be—there’s still work ahead.  I’m truly an idea person.  I get one and I’m off to the races without  a backward glance.  And they seem to shower down on me with abundance.  I work quickly, most of the time, though sometimes I have too many things on the go at once which slows everything down.  When I think I’m done though, I’m truly ready to just move on.  I’ve worked things out to my own satisfaction but it isn’t always to the satisfaction of those who give me feedback.  Suggestions are made and it looks suddenly like the wide-open road ahead is full of potholes.  The other day it felt like I’d never navigate these things, that I might just as well pack it in.

I’ve had the feeling before and indeed I’ve packed a few projects in.  I’m sure most creative people have.  We work on things, sometimes with brilliant results, sometimes not.  Some projects I’ve reworked when it looked like I’d hit a dead end but it often just made things muddy.  I know there’s a time for letting go but it’s not always clear when to hang on and just keep at it.

This time, I’m hanging on.  I’m going back in and making it simpler and more straight-forward.  I do believe that when inspiration comes to us it’s actually meant for us and not the dude next door.  And I think we’re best when we act on it.  Good things come.  Stuff happens.  I had to remember that this week.

Meanwhile, it’s freezing cold here in Boston.  Something went wrong with the heat at the art center today so I had my down coat on all day.  There we were, just 3 artists, all working with sweaters and scarves on, and me with my coat.  I love that we just carried on.  Nice thing about winter, we must just hibernate and do the work, one way or another.  How lucky we are who have creative work of one kind or another to do.  I made at least three cups of green tea, all very soothing.  A few emails, a couple of phone calls, brief chats with my fellow inhabitants at the center.  It was a good day really, even trudging through the work.

We finished Slings and Arrows last night, so very, very good, and now over.  I was warned it would end but am so very sorry.  It’s the best thing we’ve seen in ages and we had marathon viewing sessions, staying up late and once celebrating its genius with a tiny scotch in the wee hours; it was so compelling.  It’s too soon to start it over again so tonight it’ll be a book.  We’re on to Penelope Fitzgerald here.  Dear A has purchased the whole of her work second hand.  She’s a brilliant writer and a very, very good read.  Perfect for this cold night when we’re mourning the end of a great series where the characters seemed like friends.

January 14th, 2009 | Category: Dear Reader | Comments (5)