Artist in Residence

I keep meeting unbelievably fantastic people: Linda R D., Glenn A., Lianne, Vanessa, Paul and Sappy, Jessica, Murchie (of course) and right now I’m going to mention in particular:

Leslie Johnson.

Have ALL of you seen her crazy wonderful books?!! They blew me away. Look Here.

then look further.

I spent the morning with Lind Rae Dornan, a pleasure, as usual, and intense as always. I’m astounded at how many people in this place are willing to show me a little bit of what they are about, I think Sackville has some kind of positive curse on it that this is where exceptional people come to be what they are for better or for worse on this windy moor. Positively roiling with creative energy this place is. Maybe it’s that the weather NEVER LETS UP that the people are creative so energetic and so sardonic!

In other news- Lianne’s bike may have been found in the Waterfowl Park, Leah G may be in Sienna looking at boots, and Paul is definitely working on his tree house, oh and also- it would seem- that Tara W makes even stranger dawings than Lianne based on the craziness I heard tonight on CHMA during their show- Drawing on Air. (if you haven’t listened it’s because you don’t know how delightful it really is, tune in next week! Do it!)

Pushkin and I are taking our anti-biotics for the Lyme Disease and we are readying myself to go back to NSCAD to deliver a lecture. If anyone wants to come see the 45 minute lecture and tell me- good - or - bad  , do it tomorrow.  I’ll be gone Wednesday and Thursday, trying to corrupt young minds to take the crazy difficult path and do what they want and do it with conviction.

I also need to know about grasses that keep their green color even when dried and dead. Anyone?

So this is an example of where I’m coming from in making some of these dioramas. I’ve gotten really nerdy about them as a multi-media platform when really I just started to do them to imitate the ways museums present information. Now I think of them as manifest drawings, film stills, sites of strange narrative. The ones I make are usually all natural materials with one element of either human or otherwise disruption. This is one all in its box with lighting in place.

P.S. Whenever you get tired of everything, go down
to a saloon, or a pin-ball machine house, or
jump in the river. However, if you do it every
day like I do, you don’t get anywhere. But who
wants, as Nick says, to go anywhere? And further-
more, you can get sick of everything everyday like
I do and be one thing: - A casual poet with no
regrets, no excess baggage, and humour and intelligence
and goodnight my old mad masters, so long and
forget it. It is no harm. That’s the idea of
it all. How many times do I have to tell you.
Sleep it off in bed, and when you wake up, work
yourself up to a lather, world it all day, then
go back to sleep it off at night, unless you
have a woman with you in bed. In that case,
don’t sleep right away, but be sure to do so
after you’ve spent. Good night boys.

> Jack Kerouac, Atop an Underwood, p.160

by way of an encouraging email from John Murchie 2006

I love Sackville. I love Struts and Faucet and Sappy.

I’m unbelievably glad to be here.

I’ve been busy telling everyone who will listen how much I dislike LA. How much I’ve missed the natural world, community, weather of all sorts.

I like the way the wind rakes down the streets, I forgot how unprotected it is here. I love the stink of the muddy river. I like all the birches, cattails, and silvery Aspens- but Sackville, I’m worried for you- it looks like you have a tree disease going around killing leaves on your (Beech?) trees! Someone should look into that.

Everything is easier in a lovely little town. Especially in a little town when you don’t need to avoid anyone. I do have to drive to some city to get Sculpy iii because mine cooked in its package as I drove through Nevada. But this is how good this town is: Someone brought me willow branches this morning. I wanted willow branches and they arrived! I was absolutely delighted to come into the studio and find a pile of twigs waiting for me on the table. (note: future willow twig bequests should be of the recently living variety for ultimate flexibility - thank you!)

Becka Barker was here on my first day in the studio. She was installing her new media work, a hand rotoscoped animation on video footage of her surroundings in Korea. Ghostly and strange. She was talking with me about what I was planning to do on this residency. I told her about the two projects I wanted to expand, improve, finish and send back out into the world. These are existing projects that I have already shown but am eager to refine. I thought nothing of my plans until she said- well that’s a good idea to finish old work, most people try to make new work, spend three weeks banging their heads against the wall and then one week of frenzied production. Ha- I knew that routine! Thinking on my first residency at Struts, I remembered how I didn’t make a single thing of value while here (and I made a lot of things). Instead what happened was that I made an enormous body of videos about a month after the residency. I don’t think I’ve ever been as prolific since. Thus began the RECONSIDERATION of how I would spend my time here. Thanks Becka!

I was worried for the last 3 days- is it a waste of the psychic and physical space afforded to a resident here to do what is known, what is safe? Really my plan was to finish these projects, dust off my writing skills and get healthy (get skinny and quit smoking). So I set myself to industriously do what I set out to do, got restless, took a walk. A really short walk, but- something happened. The plug was pulled. Suddenly I had something in mind that I absolutely had to do immediately, no sooner did that happen then 15 more completely vital ideas rushed in behind it.

You know those manic moments of Eureka! when it feels like you are talking to God? When your mind is fluid and everything makes a grand kind of sense? And better yet is when it makes sense later when subjected to some sane kind of scrutiny.

So my question was answered. Afforded a little bit of peace and a little bit of new stimulation, there’s no stopping new work from coming. And old work is enticing too. I’ve made notes and gone to work.

Paul came into the gallery a few minutes after midnight from softball (2 games- win some, lose some). He reported that it was a very fun night and where was I? Why didn’t come out? I told him there were suddenly several new ideas. Walking out the door he said in a partly world-weary partly sarcastic tone, “Oh one of those.” And ‘tis true, idea evenings are their own kind of silliness. And I will stay in this studio all night every night unless someone stops me. Someone stop me every now and then, OK?

I just have to get this one over with.
First anythings are hard.
First blogs seem harder.

DAY 4

I was in the studio (at Struts).

I was anxious.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I left the studio.

I went to go for a walk in the Waterfowl Park.

I was looking for inspiration.

I was out for approximately 7 minutes when I found inspiration.

I don’t think I even got to the Waterfowl Park.

I picked up some sticks, a few pieces of grass and headed back to Struts.

(Murchie- this reminds me of that that bit about going to the pool hall and jumping in the river- provide!)

So-

Bog Billy of Quispamsis has been born. Raised by geese. Refused to leave the nest.

Does anyone know where there is a nearby peat bog? Anyone have a line on some moss?
If you are wondering about Bog Billy and why he was born today, look here, I am building out Pentegoet Park to afford some new residents.

Overandout