Looking forward to a bright 2025
Looking back at this past year, there are a few new practices that I like and will be taking with me into 2025. Applying to grants, fellowships and (short) residencies became a routine part of my art practice. I embraced getting rejection letters instead of feeling the sting of failure. Stephen King would famously pin his rejections to his wall as a sort of badge of honor.
I want to mention the Rome prize and the Guggenheim Fellowship. Both of them essentially ask, what would you do for a year if you could do anything? Of course it should be in your ‘zone of genius’, not exactly anything, but still, it’s sort of daunting. Everybody I’ve asked responds with an initial terror- filled glance, then shrugs with, ‘um, I have no idea what I’d do if I had a year to do whatever I wanted’. Too much freedom suddenly turns into more of a free fall.
I love the exercise of applying to these kind of ambitious things because at the very least, I get crystal clear about what I want. The essay I wrote for the Guggenheim fellowship and the Rome Price were researched. I re-wrote each draft a dozen times, waking up in the middle of the night to add ideas, made ruthless cuts. I referenced my favorite writers and thinkers, which was fun. John Berger, Julia Kristeva and Lauren Elkin’s ideas all made it in. What a pleasure to be in such good company.
CYCLES AND CARROTS
Looking back even farther, for some reason 2014 was a big year for me. I collaborated with a lot of talented folks and made a lot of work. I was in The Possible show at the Berkeley Art Museum for three months and had a solo show of sculpture at Øgaard gallery and self published a large folio style book to support the show that the brilliant Erik Heywood kindly edited.
Suddenly I’m realize I’m wishing for these same things all over again. The carrot I’m chasing is essentially the same as ten years ago, twenty years ago. It’s so cyclical. I want to work consistently toward a solo show with a supporting book. How have I changed over ten years since this fated, busy year of 2014, after getting married, moving to the east coast and back, having a child and surviving a global pandemic? How has my work changed? I’m back to painting again after a long stint as a ceramist.
Some things don’t really change. I’m wearing the same style of men’s charcoal grey cashmere sweaters I’ve worn since I was twenty. I’ve probably bought dozens of them over the years at goodwill or wherever. I’m a painter and I’m happiest when I make art every day. This is punctuated by periods of doubt and being unsure about my path. But why not just embrace all this and reach for the stars? Why wish to change a tiger’s stripes?
Awaiting that spring edition of the New York times, when all the fellow’s names are mentioned. In all likelihood, it won’t be me, but it’s possible. And that’s exciting.
Image of the book I made for the Ogaard show in 2014
