potential insanity

Fired up

by frogpondsrock on November 11, 2011

in ceramics,plastic pollution,potential insanity

An alternate title could be, “Killer Cigarette Lighters Used in Artwork” or “Nothing is Disposable Really”

But I will stick with “Fired Up” because it is the title of the show.

I have been asked to participate in a group ceramic show in the north west of the state in early March next year, the title of this show is “Fired Up.”  The Curator has asked us to produce, up to ten pieces of work that will demonstrate what gets us fired up, what we are passionate about.

I have known about this show for quite some time now but I have been deliberately only skirting the edges of the idea, as I had four exhibitions all falling in the latter part of 2012 as well as a wedding (15 days people) to occupy my thoughts.

The last time I dived headfirst into something I swam alone with my memories for weeks. I obsessed, I picked mental scabs, I cried a lot and you my dear internets were subjected to an awful lot of posts on the subject.

I think that is why I have been holding back from fully committing with my heart as well as my head to the Fired Up project, as I am a little bit frightened of where the obsessions will lead me this time.

Today I formally begin the process of really thinking about the work I will make for “Fired Up”and I have yet to tell my husband. “The Spouse” also suffers when I am in the throes of an obsession, as I am emotionally absent when I start to swim with the creative sharks and I am only half focused on the real world. It isn’t until the work is done that I start to come back to myself and realise how hard I have been to live with. My minimalistic approach to housework flies out the door and I make more mess than usual in the house. This time though I will try and be tidier and not leave piles of things everywhere.

These cigarette lighters came out of the stomachs of Laysan Albatross Chicks on Kure Atoll, Hawaii in June 2009. The Laysan Albatross Chicks died just before they were ready to make their first flight out to sea.

I am not sure what I am going to be making yet but these lighters will feature prominently.

Thoughts about disposable lifestyles, disposable people, how our laziness is killing us, all these things are in my head but nothing is concrete yet. I am still at the stage where I am tossing around ideas to do with ceramic lighters, dead albatross bowls, ceramic balls similar to the dragon eggs bound together with brightly coloured rope.

I dont know yet.

But.

Today I have started and I have some serious work ahead of me. I only wish I could afford a cleaner.

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Nerves. I Have them.

by frogpondsrock on September 27, 2011

in film making,potential insanity,real life,vimeo

Today I go and introduce myself to some teenagers and see if they want to make some films.

I am incredibly nervous. I have already thought up and disregarded a zillion different reason why I cant possibly go in and work with these kids.

The physical manifestation of nerves interest me and as I am typing this I am trying to work out how my body is reacting.

My hands are cold and I have a whole colony of butterflies fluttering about in my tummy. My ears feel blocked and I am a bit light headed.I have a slight tightness in my chest and I need to go to the loo, again.

Ack. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I put my hand up and say yes I can do this when I have only just worked out how to make films myself?

I feel sick.

BUT.

I am well prepared.

I am going to introduce myself and talk about my work. I have one of my ceramic shells that I am going to take in as well as one of my dead bird bowls.

I am going to talk about being a storyteller and how we all have stories to tell.

I have ten minutes worth of short videos to show as examples of different styles of film making.

Here they are if you are interested.

And then I am just going to make it up as I go along.

I am now going back to reread all your wonderful comments on my last post on this topic.

But I might just go to the loo and throw up first.

Nerves. I Have Them.

 

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How to tell if you are stressed.

by frogpondsrock on August 16, 2011

in Distractions galore!,film making,headfuck,potential insanity

When I am stressed I cry a lot over nothing, not big ugly heaving sobs, I save those ones for when I am in bed. I am talking about those annoying stray tears that escape when I am in the middle of a conversation and always take me unawares. The next big indicator that I am extremely stressed is when I begin to forget stuff.

I drove out to visit my daughter the other day specifically to deliver a set of ceramic cups,Von is flying to Sydney soon and had offered to hand deliver the cups for me. Halfway there I realised that I had left the cups on the studio bench. The whole point of the trip was to deliver the cups, how could I forget them?

Frustrated with myself I posted this facebook status

Drove out to visit Veronica specifically to drop off a set of ceramic cups that need to go to Sydney. Forgot to take the cups. Was given some eggs to bring home. Forgot to grab the eggs.

The sneaky aspect of stress is that I often don’t realise I am stressed at all, I just wander about the place making a mess, leaving a trail of half done jobs behind me and becoming increasingly grumpy with myself.

It wasn’t until a friend rang and commented that serious levels of forgetfulness aren’t like me at all. During the course of that conversation I started to cry small tears again because I had been slightly worried I was losing my marbles. My friend gently laughed at me and told me it was just stress.

One of the indicators of stress for me is I hide in the computer. I faff about on twitter and youtube following links to obscure news items and re-discovering forgotten songs.

This week I have been making a video. The obsessive nature of video editing and sound design perfectly suits me. I am always a bit surprised by the music I compose as I don’t particularly like synthetic beat boxy type rythms but I think it fits this short video.

How do you know when you are stressed?

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Cardboard doesn’t have any soul.

by frogpondsrock on August 12, 2011

in Arty stuff..,Aspergers,headfuck,potential insanity,sculpture

It is four am and I have been lying in bed for the past hour thinking about why I am having such trouble with my cardboard sculpture project. Once I started to organise the words into a coherent structure, the answer was obvious.

Cardboard doesn’t have any soul.

It has had the life force machined out of it, the process of  industrial refinement has removed any echo of the tree that once was there. The violence of the process has shattered the music into unrecognisable shards of sound.

Cardboard is a dead material to me. I cant hear its song.

I didn’t realise until just this minute, that is what I had been trying to do. I had been trying to listen to a song that wasn’t there. I had been trying to work intuitively with a material that was incapable of telling me what it wanted me to do.

Trying to catch a glimpse of the path has been an exhausting process. I have been incapable of true thought, the echo of nothing has been almost overwhelming and the white noise has been deafening.

My attempts to create anything have been ineffectual.

Simple solutions such as needing to cut a slot into the cardboard so that it will sit flush with the line of the railing, have been almost impossible to realize.

I have been unable to properly explain my ideas and this failure of articulation combined with my ineffectual problem solving has added to my frustrations.

But, a throw away line that I used in the class debrief at the end of yesterdays session, has coalesced into a practical solution to my problem and I think I know what I am going to make. Now that I have realised that I can’t work intuitively with cardboard, I have developed some momentum again.

And with these words gone from my head and given to you, dear internet, I am going back to bed.

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Straight lines make me cry.

by frogpondsrock on August 5, 2011

in Arty stuff..,potential insanity,thinking out loud

Or at least they do when I come home and tell “The Spouse” about them.

Confused? Let me explain.

I have nearly finished a very short introduction to sculpture class. For the final component of this unit I need to make a sculpture out of cardboard. I have not been looking forward to the construction stage of this project at all, because I need to measure very accurately and be very precise.

Notice those keywords? Accuracy and precision?

Look how sharp and stabby those words are.

Anyway.

Yesterday I began to construct my sculpture.

Three times I measured the line I needed to cut, very carefully, super carefully in fact.

I was being accurate.

I drew a guideline on the cardboard.

I was being precise.

I had a straight edge to guide the Stanley knife.

I was being accurate and precise at the same time.

I was ready to create a freaking masterpiece, people.

But somehow I managed to cut a very, very crooked line.

Twice.

*sigh*

I am some sort of a crooked legend I am sure.

On my second attempt another student came over and gave me some help. Lelle showed me the guidelines on the cardboard which would help me keep my straight lines even straighter. I measured again, I even drew tiny little fucking dots spaced about two inches apart on those faint guidelines to make doubly and triply sure.

I spent ages being accurate and precise.

Again.

It looked straight to me. It looked like the beginning of a masterpiece

But it wasn’t.

*sigh*

Lelle checked my lines for me and they were crooked. What the fuck? So Lelle scored a line in the cardboard for me to follow, which by the way looked a bit wonky to my eye.

I stared at that fucking cardboard for about 15 minutes trying to beat it into submission with the power of my mind.

Finally I was ready to cut that fucker in half.

Yay! It was straight.

I was exhausted.

And I still had heaps more bits to make.

When I came home and was describing my cutting adventures to the spouse, I was being overly dramatic as is my wont and waving my arms about describing how only I, “Kimmy the Magnificent, Queen of the crooked” could turn a completely straight line into a curve.

And as I was turning the days frustrations into nothing more than a humourous little anecdote, I started to cry.

Just a little cry.

Straight lines are hard.

Accuracy and precision are overrated.

Cardboard is horrible

But.

I have brought a piece of cardboard home with me and”The Spouse” has said he will help me with some of the engineering design details. I will work in my studio on a table at a proper Kimmy height and I will make straight lines even if it fucking well kills me.

Either that or I will go to plan B and I will make a woven cardboard ball and glue the fucker into submission.

Stay tuned…

 

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