Serendipity of Objects

I had individual critiques with each of my first year students from my beginning still life class at PAFA.  I thought instead of a group critique, which we had many of throughout the semester, a chance to talk one on one might be a better way to end.  I usually wrapped them up with the question, "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss, ask, get feedback on?" And one student said, "Yes, why do you paint still life objects in your own work?" Hmmm.  Good question.  Hard question to answer in that situation.  I said something like, "They seem important to me because they are constantly around me, in my life, standing in and easy to draw memories from."  Is that why?  Partially.  I think also because they are so good to construct a painting from for me.  I feel an ease with their shapes and a freedom to invent so that the painting works and unexpected relationships come to be .

googly eye and scissors photo courtesy of Things Fitting Perfectly into Other Things

A few days ago, I stumbled upon this article, The Existential Satisfaction of Things Fitting Perfectly into Other Things, in The Atlantic (a publication I have really been enjoying for its thorough reporting and on the pulse discussions) and the writer gives words to something similar: the odd satisfying sensation of objects unexpectedly being perfect for each other in the real, physical world.  The notion is silly in a way but poetic in another.  It's such a small thing when the coin in her pocket fits in her iphone cover perfectly but its like a talisman for the serendipity that can be found in the world, and that is so comforting to stumble upon.

Laptop and cookie sheet

 

 

 

So today when I went to pack all my paintings for my solo show into my friend's pickup (which was not the car I thought I would use but turned out other options were too small), I felt so, so good, good beyond what is logical about the fact that they fit in perfect line with the edges of the truck.  I've been into these external signs from the physical world and this one takes the cake.  The uncontrollable, night-sweats, chill-inducing anxiety of this thing was relieved...at least for the drive over to the gallery.

Images from FIGURATION @ Nancy Margolis

 

 

The show at Nancy Margolis ended this weekend.  I made it up for one more visit and snapped some photos.  Here are the installation shots, info on the pieces is up on my website here.

Solo Show @ McCleaf

 

The proof of my card for my first solo show came in this week.  I'm excited.  And anxiety ridden.  But I'm happy with the card!  I'll be getting the bulk of them this week and sending them out.  If you would like one please email me or leave a comment here.  

I spent a lot of time thinking about a title.  I think it is so important for the title to strike the same note as the work.  I hate titles that are pretentious, I hate titles that are didactic, I hate titles that are airtight or snarky.  I didn't want anything too whimsical for this show as this work is a little darker.  But my work is grounded in my life and in humor.  It needed to be just like the work when at its best -- inviting and relatable in a direct way but also weightier, intangible and more complex as it shifts into focus.  So Spaghetti for Breakfast.  

 The title also relates to paintings I made of this actual event, which was on my mind after reading passages (Chapter 2 and 11) of Wind Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami a few times.  The mood he creates looms large over my thinking in creating this body of work.  Half of the paintings were already done when I read it for the first time and just felt like what I was doing was being confirmed by an outside source, like I was tapping into a wavelength already out there. 

The show opens in less than a month, Friday January 8th from 5-7pm.  It's a really short month with New Year's and school starting back up.  Here goes nothing...