carpet stains

Are you happy with this?
Not really, I wish I had more space.
but I've learned how to settle and alter my expectations.
What are you thinking about?
The weight of everything I own.
What are you going to do tomorrow?
I'm singing taps on the curb as they tow my car, then I'll come inside and sew some more or read probably. I'll ride my bike later.
Are you making anything?
No, I had to give myself permission to not make anything this month. I've been reading a lot and sewing things, yesterday I made white angora underwear. Just to be funny. I'm still drawing, but mostly in my sketchbook, right before I fall asleep, some of it looks great.
What have you read recently?
Reinaldo Arenas, Before night falls. Judy Chicago, Through the Flower, Jonathan Safran Foer, Eating Animals. Bicycling magazines. It's been really quiet lately.

read all about it!

I was invited to be a member of the Swipple Collective this month. Slowly getting images on the site, but it's great to see my work alongside some very talented artists from all over.  Here's a great article about the making of Swipple  and it's founder Jason Wright. Please do visit Jim Damron and Zach Erickson's profiles, I wouldn't be there without them.

In other interweb news, I'm also featured on Adam Marler's ( look him up, very funny and talented guy) podcast I don't get it, .  Episode 3 and Adam is learning the tricks of the podcast trade conversing with the Fresno arts crowd. It seemed like we talked about everything under the sun, especially with me running in tangents and doing my usual indirect answer of questions. Adam did a great job editing it and finding a focus. Be sure to listen to the first 2 podcasts while you are there. I'm very excited to see where this podcast goes.

Also. The outfits produced for the Fresno Art Museum's Trashique event are up for this month only. Take a peek and get inspired.

Mary Oliver

A new acquaintance shared this poem with me recently. I've read segments of Oliver's poetry in Sabrina Ward Harrisons books, but never on in it's entirety. This poem hits me in an incredibly deep way, as if I've known it since my childhood. The geese have always made me stop in my tracks, mid conversation. Most birds have that effect on me.

 Wild Geese 

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Unemployed, but busy as ever. Hoping to start work with the Fresno Art Museum soon, gallery monkey.  I'm looking for a tiny studio in which to cloister myself to make art. I'm kind of thrilled at the idea of dusting myself off a bit.

p.s. apparently most people don't bike in Modesto, so our bike bags were not as big a hit as we thought, but they will soon hit the Etsy shop for your holiday consumption. stay tuned.