I who lived in Arizona for 20+ years can barely stand this weather in Vermont. Arizona was dry heat and it felt great to sweat, to drive without ac and hike dry dusty mountains.
Its hot and sticky and swampy and stinky here. Dead mice smells emanate from somewhere in the bedroom. No fresh air save for the concrete basement. The basement. Two steps away from our living quarters. The basement where I used to make art. The basement that beckons to me but like a child I want to punish I refuse to go into and give any attention to. I'm hoping that will change soon. Tod is leaving for a handful of days and even though the whole house will be crazy noisy this weekend (I anticipate it due to hearing certain relatives of certain people are coming), I have a fantasy that I will get in there and do something.
I woke up at 3am with visions of art dancing across my eyelids. No escaping it, even if I act like I aint gonna make art I'm relentlessly surrounded by it. I, who do not like reading/seeing too much about art picked out THIRTY ONE netflix DVD's for Tod to watch. I don't even pay for/watch the DVD's. He mentioned he hadn't anymore on the queue and while he was outdoors weedwacking I sat there for over an hour pouring through every art documentary I could find, as if through some high speed portal I would osmotically inhale an atom of art.
I wonder if Richard Tuttle would have anything to say to me. Probably not, gotta figure it out myself. Yesterday while talking to Tod about artists, he mentioned that I didn't really have any peers. I would have to agree. The few artists I know online quilt, paint, collage, and take photographs. Each heading in their own directions and having their own struggles or successes but I get the feeling none of us can really understand what its like to make and 'dispose' of the work we make. We speak different languages. What works for one isn't going to cut it for the other. (If you want to read a great interview with Richard, click here.)
And off I go, outdoors before it gets too suffocating.