Update on Social (Virus) Exhibit

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I participated recently in an exhibit at non-profit NurtureArt Gallery in Bushwick, Brooklyn. What made this exhibit special was the age of the curators. They are high school students in the Juan Morel Campos Secondary School. 

My piece consisted of two small narrative embroidery pieces (at left), and my blog entry. I left a small notebook where viewers could leave comments. Here is my favorite comment:

"I think this work reflects me in the best way possible. I think I should lose the glasses, too."

Same Spool of Thread

We Are from the Same Spool of Thread. 2009. embroidery on fabric. 4.75" X 8.25".

I think this man has an incredibly sweet face, and while he  looks 10 years younger than me, his spirit of openness and availability is what I am looking for in a partner. He also seems like he's in pretty good shape (that is always a bonus in a partner).

The text on his body says:

my smile never fades or tires

we are done with dating doldrums

When you're around, all of my hopes are possible. Birds sing and the sun shines.

Our love is an endless warp-you are the warp and I am the weft.

We are an endless spool of thread.

We are interlaced and interwoven.

We are from the same spool of thread.

Less Interested

"The more he talked, the less interested I became." 2009. embroidery on fabric. 1.5" X 3".

Despite my work on "Were I So Besotted," I have been on a dating hiatus for some months as I crammed out artwork, and worked out the ups and downs of past and a recent entanglements. 

My re-entry into dating these past few weeks was somewhat nostalgic. I remembered that I love the anticipation, the first emails or phone calls or text messages that give me hints into a person I may soon get to know. What I dislike is the frustration of sticking out a date when I know within the first 20 minutes that I will not want to see the person again. Sometimes, I know before I even go on the date that I am not interested, and end up going out of a sense of obligation. 

I sense that there are more engaging moments ahead of me. I can't wait.

Mine Again

"He didn't like sweatpants, or my green, fleece bathrobe. I got rid of the sweatpants, and kept the bathrobe.

He liked to make fun of a pair of high-waisted, "grandma" underwear. When he left, I embroidered curlicues on my underwear, and strode around the apartment in it.

I had to learn to make everything that had been ours mine again."

Piece at left - "Mine Again." 2009. Embroidery on fabric. 6" X 10".

More Dates

Piece above: 

"My gallerist told me to go out and have more sexual experiences so I can make more art. Dating with abandon is now part of my job."

More Dates

2009. embroidery on fabric. 2.5" X 3.5"

Sneak Peak

As I mentioned in my last post, this weekend is the culmination of NY's Affordable Art Fair 2009. I volunteered to sit with my gallerist, Muriel Guepin of Shop Art Gallery yesterday. I felt a bit of the magic as I watched some wonderful pieces find homes. I also met two of my own patrons, and got tons of feedback.

I don't know if you've had this experience, but it can be awkward to pose as a gallery assistant while people casually talk about your work, not knowing you're the artist. I was impressed that people spent time reading every word I had stitched, laughed out loud at a lot of my less flattering dating moments, and brought their friends to see my work. 

I tried to find ways to interject myself in conversations without being overbearing or feeling shy. It wasn't easy. In talking about my work, I generated so many new ideas. Thank you art fair visitors! 

Seeing my work sell, and getting reports from Muriel about sales, has made me both ecstatic and sad. I will go so far as to say I feel betrayed by my own artwork. I started the hand stitched portion of "Were I So Besotted" because I was heartbroken. I have continued to stitch stories about men I have been involved with, all the while hoping one would materialize who would be a loving and reasonable partner. Seeing people identify with my work enough to take it home is wonderful. But I am reminded that my search for an emotional home in another person is not resolved. Each stitch I make is a form of wounding and healing fabric, just like dating and starting over.

The image above is the start of a new piece. "He Left Me Because of My Underwear," (or something like that).  

Blank Wall Syndrome

These past few days, I've been coming home to bare, white walls. (Wow, does my apartment need to be painted!)

My gallerist, Muriel Guepin of Shop Art Gallery, is participating in the Affordable Art Fair. I am thrilled that we have been selling work, and cannot wait to see the outcome of this 4-day event. The only downside is my compulsion to immediately fill blank wall space with new work. I am waking up in the middle of the night with phrases running through my head that just may end up in my next piece. 

Thanks to everyone out there who has enjoyed seeing my work, has purchased my work, has read my blog, and has been interested in what I'm doing.

To read a review of the Art Fair, visit Nylon Magazine.

Social (Virus) exhibit

I found out that I will be exhibiting an entry from this blog in an exhibit held at NurtureArt, a non-profit gallery in Brooklyn, NY. The exhibit is unusual in that the curators are high school students participating in NurtureArt's education program. I'm excited to be working with people outside of the art world's mainstream. I loved high school and the intellectual and social energy I had at that age. I hope this exhibit reflects some of that. I am thrilled, also, that my blog is understood to be part of my art.

Check out my "Facebook, blogging, Twitter" entry to see what I will exhibit. And if you're in the New York area, the show opens on Thursday, May 14 from 6-8pm at NurtureArt: 910 Grand Street. Visit their web site for travel directions.

Image above is the cover of a notebook I created so that visitors can comment on my blog in analog format.