grit, teeth, noise, synesthesia.

It's a little embarrassing to admit that those are indeed my own teeth. But it's a pretty cool image, no?


I've decided to tackle a subject that makes me very uncomfortable, so as to gain some perspective on my insecurities that involve the social politics of dental cosmetics. Teeth have been a very interesting subject to me for quite some time. They are gross, they are necessary, they are fascinating, they lack sense and yet can be the cause of so much pain. An animal's habit of showing and gritting one's teeth is a naturally threatening signal, while humans flash their teeth with a friendly smile.

Teeth are defensive, yet vulnerable.
Teeth contain a unique topography to each individual (by this I'm referring to the use of dental records as a means of identifying a body, for example)-- Fingerprints are like the map, where teeth are the terrain.
I could go on and on and on as to why I find the subject of teeth so damn fascinating. There are so many cultural hang-ups that surround teeth: "dental culture", is perhaps the proper nomenclature? Grills, gold caps, obsessive bleaching... There is a status symbol in dental hygiene. There is judgment in its neglect.

These questions that involve defining subject, object and relevance seem to find some answer in these portraits. This certainly isn't a final product, but only a documentation of the process. I'm interested in the initial draw to the image, the repulsion, the comprehension that the image of these teeth in fact belong to someone one might know, and perhaps the guilt that follows. I know it's not there yet, I know it's not nearly as dramatic, but I'm getting there...

I find that I have a much more passionate and energetic response to music these days (as has always been the case, really). I will go out of my way to see a concert before an art opening-- always. I spend so much money on shows. I crawled out of my sick-bed and walked 15 blocks to see Corin Tucker. Granted much of it has to do with atmosphere, social gathering, and alcohol, but the immersive quality of an aural experience can be so utterly captivating and powerful. I find I am extremely drawn to the droning, endless, wall-of-sound-- the feeling of timelessness in a sea of pure noise-- the anti-song. Reality is suspended in the feedback solo or the perfect percussion of a seemingly eternal drum beat. I feel there. I feel here. I feel everywhere. I fucking feel. It's quasi-religious; Michael Gira (Swans) was- for a moment- godlike. You can relate-- I know you can.

Okay, where am I going with this. I have recently become enamored with the idea of finding a visual equivalent to rock and roll. I haven't entirely scrapped my hyper-minimalist, Formal questions of pattern yet (yes, I'm still in love with equilateral triangles), but I think that's merely a single unit to a multifaceted structure I have yet to conceive and construct. Rock and roll is so much about the front man, isn't it? It's so much about persona as much as it is about the noise. Subject/object relationships! Is that what I'm still talking about?!

I'm frustrated with the fact that I suddenly started making pretty things. It's like listening to... Jewel, for example. I'm revolting against my own inclinations towards beauty and elegance. I need some tooth in my life and work (pun entirely intended).

If you follow my studio practice in any way, you already know where these teeth are going. I am excited to say that things have been pretty successful on the making-end, as of late. I'm still asking a lot of questions about my work. I still have a difficult time articulating my interests in relation to my work because they range from (as stated above) rock and roll, to Buckminster Fuller, to material translation, to landscape, to architecture to et cetera, et cetera. And then to relate it back to ceramics and craft? (those are honestly the least of my concerns anymore). In any case, I can confidently say that I am back in production, and the only way to find answers to these questions is to continue making. I am indeed constantly vacillating between thinking and making, but I suppose it's a good thing...

On the next episode:
SEEKING THE VISUAL ANALOG TO ROCK AND ROLL.

Watershed Auction/WhoWhatWhere/Why (current statement of practice)

Can't wait to get your hands on some of those fortune tellers? The last of them are available through following venues:
VIX Emporium (50th/Baltimore Ave)
or
the Watershed Center for Ceramics Fall Auction  (with work by other incredible, real and established artists to bid on)
or
by chance: support West Philly's Mariposa Food Coop and get a raffle ticket
or by direct contact (see contact page). But let me tell you, they're slim pickin's, so get the good ones while you can!

In other news, I'm happy to announce a few things: I will be manning Heidi Paul's booth on Thursday Nov 11, at the Philadelphia Museum of Art Craft Show from 5-8 pm. Come check out her stuff! Hope to see you there!
I am also happy to say that I'm finally, actively making some new work, and I've switched gears completely. Being out of school, I've allowed myself the permission to make the work I've wanted to make, but feared wasn't "art school" enough. What can I say, I suppose the real world could care less to give you the time of day to listen to your concept. I realize that some of my more successful work hinges on concept and gimmick (to which I euphemistically refer to as "accessibility of the object"). I'm not here to say that I've come to embrace the one liner, because (third-person switch) face it Tracy, despite your post-school reality check, you're still a dweller and thinker (trust me, I don't say that to flatter myself. I say it to state a fact of my making-process).
Gimmicks and one-liners aside, perhaps it's easier to say that's an irrelevant conversation. The conversation at hand is in fact, more about the idea of "relevance" itself: What makes an object culturally relevant? Is this a question that is inherent to anything made in craft media? How do we insist that our object is relevant, without overstating its craft-ness?
If you are familiar with any of my work, process, or me as a person, you'll understand that I have a thing with words. Particularly words of binary opposition (positive/negative, male/female etc). I've sort of formed my own vocabulary with the upcoming set of work. I don't see the words as opposed, but directly related. One begets the other: Accessibility/Excessibility. Don't look it up, I just made it up.

Access/Excess. 


It seems to have a direct relationship to my current relocation to an urban environment, as well. I am surrounded by means (access) to virtually anything and everything (excess) I want (except for living/studio space). The insatiable want of the city, and the urban mentality perpetuates the hunger and need for more. When you're not in it, the city is the notion that there is just so much more to want, and you are utterly entitled to it-- even if you don't know what "it" is.
We identify ourselves with the things we consume (or refuse to consume), and I am here as a defender of the "relevance" of objects beyond the mindless consumption of ubiquitous factory goods...
There's something to be said about using a familiar form or object and subverting it's context, and I guess I'm trying to say that something here!
I'm challenging myself these days to tackle more specific subjects. The fortune tellers and terrain were a nice introduction to these ideas of familiarity and subversion, but were a bit too vague to state anything beyond technical proficiency.
I admit that I am here struggling with my own identity as both a person and an artist. I am overwhelmed with the paralyzing amount of options for things "to do," without much reason to "do" anything" other than to quell the boredom of loneliness, and anxiety of an urban pace. Eat out, go to a bar, see a concert, buy some things, spend some more money, drink some more coffee, eat some more... by night, drink some more. Do we go to these venues to passively set the stage for serendipity? How hungry are you, really? I want to know what the impetus is for certain habits of consumption. Perhaps it starts with loneliness and evolves henceforth.
What? You want me tell you already what it is I'm making? Psh. What's the fun in that...

Learning to be resourceful can have delicious outcomes

Here's a new recipe for you all. Accompanied by an update. (or an update accompanied by a recipe, however you prefer to look at it).

It's been about a month since the move to Philadelphia now, and production is indeed slow. This has been my first day off since last Thursday, and I've decided to utilize my free time creating my new website. Computer work can feel like a wasted day, so I took the opportunity to bake some bread and simmer some soup while I sat on my ass staring at my computer all afternoon. And look at the things I have to show for it now! A legitimate website (not that blogger isn't legit, it's just nice to have a succinct domain name), a new soup recipe, artisan bread for the week, and a full belly! Hey hey, good day.

Of course, I lacked the ingredients I needed to make the usual cream of carrot soup, so I improvised:

Coconut Carrot soup with Sweet Potatoes and Ginger (whoa!)

1 lb carrots (chopped)
1 med sweet potato
4 cups homemade vegetable stock
1 cup coconut milk
2 cloves garlic (minced)
1 inch length fresh ginger (grated)
handful of kale (chopped)

1 T olive oil
sea/kosher salt
pepper
the tiniest pinch of curry powder
fresh basil

Heat olive oil in stock pot on medium heat. Add garlic and ginger and sautee for about 30 seconds (let them release aroma, but don't burn). Add carrots and sweet potatoes and sautee for about 4 minutes. Add a dash of sea salt, let cook for about 1 minute. Add vegetable stock and bring to a boil. Turn heat down and let simmer for about an hour (until everything is soft). Add more salt to taste, and black pepper. Simmer 10 minutes. Transfer solids to a food processor* and puree. Return to pot and stir with the rest of the soup. Add coconut milk and kale and simmer again for about 12 minutes. Ladle into serving bowls and garnish with fresh basil.

* I don't have a food processor (anymore) so I just mashed the veggies as best as I could. I would have preferred to turn everything (except the kale) into a nice cream. It looks prettier.

I'd do this again. Perhaps over some brown rice. Perhaps with a food processor.

Goodness new good news

In an effort to be a more conscious person of my surroundings, to make use of myself as a human being, to be a responsible consumer (and disposer), to participate in a greater community outside of my own judgments and values, and to actively give a shit, I've joined a few wonderful co-ops, collectives, and volunteer groups. (Pedal Coop, Handmade Philly, Food Not Bombs).

I'm excited to begin working with all three organizations. I think I have been struggling with an internal dilemma with my work since the end of school. So much of the work I've made has been a challenge in technical facility. Learning new processes, and overcoming skill-based boundaries has thus far driven my work, but I can only have the "process conversation" for so long until the work becomes pallid and predictable. The fascinating "how" of the work has been established for me. It seems as though the hard part to address is the "what" and "why." Does one call that concept? Does one call that an oeuvre? How often do we honestly confront our cares and interests?
Perhaps it's easier than all of that, and perhaps I simply think about it too much. Perhaps it's all entirely subjective, and perhaps it's simple to decide what one likes. But perhaps it isn't too much to ask myself to be honest and address the bringing of another object into the world-- it should at least be done well and thoughtfully. I feel that my work thus far is missing something. I think it's missing this dimension that transcends process (perhaps something to bring a conversation to craft, rather than a monologue on skill). 
Through my promise to dedicate my time to these organizations, I am bringing an Active sensibility into my routine, addressing what I know I care about in a way that is communal and more significant than myself. I don't have to run in circles with some kind of naive idealism; I can sublimate this anxious energy into something good instead of ignoring it. In the end, I'm doing it for me. I'm willing to admit that. But I think we're all in it for ourselves, it's what we do. But if I'm going to do something for myself, I can at least make sure it's the distribution of something good that benefits others.
Check back soon, hopefully I'll have made work that addresses the "why" of what I make. Maybe something will come of all of this.

Watershed, pictures, philadelphia&tc

Some images from Watershed Session VI with Nina Hole and Ann-Charlotte Olson. Check out more of Nina Hole's monumental sculptures. A scattered presentation of some of the wonderful friends I made this summer. Incredible human beings! I love and miss you all! nostalgic, a bit? Settling into my place in Chinatown. It's really quite incredible to be here. It's been only a week and it feels like a month has gone by. The security and quiet of the bucolic setting where I resided for four years really puts Philadelphia into contrast. It's an exciting change; I feel as though I've already learned a lot about myself this week alone. (I learned to parallel park, be an asshole city driver, acquired 7 new keys, walked my half dead bike across the city to fix it at the amazing Bike Church ...) I've been attentive of my surroundings, more self aware. I can feel a seed of inspiration being planted-- I'm sure once things get settled, some grain of creative concept with have been cultivated. Words and images that have been swimming through my head of late: urban detritus, rubble, ornament, pattern, grid/map, direction, keys, that incredible brick wall on 10th/Vine... My work at The Clay Studio starts next week. Our duties as work exchange aren't necessarily exciting enough to elaborate on, but as soon as some work gets made, I'm sure I'll have something to post about it. see you at 50th and Baltimore tomorrow at noon? (check previous post for details!)

Satellite Second Saturdays Craft Fair

Relocation to Philadelphia has been successful. Sparing details, cutting to the chase. I'll be here this weekend with a table:




Satellite Craft Fair! Woohoo! Come by and get some local handmade goodies!