I am still obsessed with
the boat. It still sits there in the middle of the parade ground. It still symbolizes freedom for me. Freedom from my Masters. Freedom from schedules. Freedom from "regular" life.
I am in London in the midst of my MFA. I have wanted this for 8 or more years: this school and this city. I've placed tremendous pressure on myself to "succeed", to make a name for myself in London, to get a gallery, and to rise above everyone else and be the best. The sheer insanity of that goal has not yet sunk into my determined one-track mind. I am tense. I am overwhelmed. I am focused at times and frazzled the rest. I have not even taken a real opportunity to stop and enjoy the city I am in.
The other thing about that boat is that Lia has merged two of her life disciplines. Boating and art. How have I done that? I have art, cooking and foods, travel and anthropology. How do they merge? I have experimented this year with cooking as live performance. My research paper is more of an anthropological look at how food is tightly wound around culture and culture around food. I came across artists in my research who use food as theme, food as medium, and food and lifestyle as performance. So am I really hitting the right nail on the head when I sit in my studio painting pastries or when I cook as live performance? If a live performance is at its most honest, would it be independant from the context of an art institute? As one of the other students voiced, would that not make the "real" art makers those who do not think of themselves as artists, but go about their everyday lives? Regular people performing REAL acts of art completely unconsciously? Sigh. It is a bit of a dead end to bring up in my group tutorial...as I tried. I was going to advocate that I go to chef school as the most unconcious and truest act of being an artist.
Anyway...that boat. I like it. I like what it stands for in the midst of this particular setting. It is something of a wider view than the institution it was set up for. It includes all those "non-art" doings of an artist. Well...back to my studio!
View her 2 live webcams
I am still obsessed with the boat. It still sits there in the middle of the parade ground. It still symbolizes freedom for me. Freedom from my Masters. Freedom from schedules. Freedom from "regular" life.
I am in London in the midst of my MFA. I have wanted this for 8 or more years: this school and this city. I've placed tremendous pressure on myself to "succeed", to make a name for myself in London, to get a gallery, and to rise above everyone else and be the best. The sheer insanity of that goal has not yet sunk into my determined one-track mind. I am tense. I am overwhelmed. I am focused at times and frazzled the rest. I have not even taken a real opportunity to stop and enjoy the city I am in.
The other thing about that boat is that Lia has merged two of her life disciplines. Boating and art. How have I done that? I have art, cooking and foods, travel and anthropology. How do they merge? I have experimented this year with cooking as live performance. My research paper is more of an anthropological look at how food is tightly wound around culture and culture around food. I came across artists in my research who use food as theme, food as medium, and food and lifestyle as performance. So am I really hitting the right nail on the head when I sit in my studio painting pastries or when I cook as live performance? If a live performance is at its most honest, would it be independant from the context of an art institute? As one of the other students voiced, would that not make the "real" art makers those who do not think of themselves as artists, but go about their everyday lives? Regular people performing REAL acts of art completely unconsciously? Sigh. It is a bit of a dead end to bring up in my group tutorial...as I tried. I was going to advocate that I go to chef school as the most unconcious and truest act of being an artist.
Anyway...that boat. I like it. I like what it stands for in the midst of this particular setting. It is something of a wider view than the institution it was set up for. It includes all those "non-art" doings of an artist. Well...back to my studio!
Dude. That is some boat. I would like to learn how to sail someday. But it's not a big enough desire, so it probably won't happen. I'm okay with that.
ReplyDeleteWell, that was a dream awoken and shattered all in the space of a few seconds of ever I saw one!
ReplyDeleteDudes. I could definitly get addicted to pressing the refresh button ever minute to see if things have changed in the old live web cams.
ReplyDeleteI also would love to sail. One day- one day- I'll stick it on my top ten list- I think it is already there.
Nice new posts Mic.
T
Noah would be jealous. That's a boat waiting for a flood.
ReplyDeleteHere's my advice on sailing - unless you are independently wealthy, join a sailing club. Our family owned a boat and Katie's family did as well - it's a constant drain on your wallet and time. Non-profit club memberships are like $400 a year and you get access to different types of boats. That's less than $40 a month. As an added bonus, you get to hang out with seasoned salts who can teach you all the tricks. And...if you happen to lose your keys on a beautiful couple's wedding day, someone else will have a set ;-).
Aaahh..gliding across a rippled bay - no noise but the soothing slosh of water churned in your tiller. Dip your feet in the cold rush of passing water. Let the wind caress your skin and run its cool fingers through your hair. Look up and stare back at the sharp sparkle of mid-day sun. Think of nothing.
OK, back to the breeze of central air-conditioning, tinkle of keyboards, glow of flourecent bulbs, and monotony of meaningless work.
Sigh.