Artists are Weird

I was just reading a quote attributed to Martha Graham and it was about how artists are never really satisfied with their work.  And I started thinking about that and wondering why that might be. Which then got me wondering why I might really like something I create one day and than think it's complete garbage a few days later. The same does not hold true for anything else in my life that I can think of. For instance I have always loved chocolate and I will until the day I die. I have always loved Beatles music and I can't see that ever changing. So why the flip-flopping when it comes to my art. I can only come to one conclusion: artists are weird.

Peace and love,

Amy

The Opposite of Artist's Block

There is a condition known as artist's block or creative block that from what I understand means that an artist cannot create because their inspiration and/or creative ideas have dried up. I am having the opposite problem right now: I have way, way, way too many ideas floating around in my brain. Everything I see around me is a possible sculpture to create. I have soooooo many little pieces of paper with drawings and scribbled notes floating around that it would take me several lifetimes to produce those designs. It is frustrating to say the least. Its hard to concentrate on making one thing when you have a hundred other ideas pushing to get out and the other ideas are trying to persuade you to give up on your current idea (read that last sentence a few times--it will eventually make sense)  So for all of those artists that complain that inspiration is nowhere to be found just remember it could be worse--you could have the opposite of artist's block (I tried to think of a creative term for the 'opposite of artist's block' but I guess I have writer's block)
peace and love,

Amy's Brain

amy

To Create or not to Create (that is the question)

Let me set the scene: it is 6 something on a Saturday morning and no one is stirring in the house yet. I am sitting on our lanai staring out into the woods and I can smell the ultra strong coffee I concoct brewing. The sun is just starting to come up and the light dancing on the trees and grass resembles a beautiful oil painting. The birds are singing quietly today(usually it sounds like the Fraternal Order of Birds is having their annual meeting at our house).
I have just poured the coffee...I have just sipped the coffee...this is my idea of what heaven might look like.
I must admit quite a bit of time has gone by(one of my talents is the ability to stare into the woods for long periods of time) and I am trying to muster the energy to go create something. Sometimes I feel this pressing need to make art (the ideas in my head are so insistent that I don't have a choice), sometimes I just meander into my workspace(don't really call it a studio--it's the garage) and start working, and sometimes I kind of have to force things to happen. It feels more like an obligation then a desire. But in the back of my head I know that once I get started I won't stop until (a)someone comes to get me or (b) I start thinking about food.

oh well, time to make the concrete
peace and love,
amy

The Concrete Lady

So a few weeks ago I was at my very first art exhibition(the first one that had MY art in it) and a great thing happened. No, nobody bought any of my pieces--it was something else entirely. Two separate people came up to me and said "oh, your the concrete lady".  Why would I find this title so pleasurable you might ask. I couldn't put my finger on it for a while but then I realized it was because I was being singled out for something. Don't we all want to be singled out in some way or another? Be unique, or special?  That's how I felt that night (plus it sure beats being called "the drunk lady" or "the cat lady" for gosh sakes)
peace and love,

amy

Art as Therapy

 I had a really, really, really bad day yesterday. Nothing horrendous or life shattering happened--just a series of one stupid thing after another steamrolling over me (although looking back over the days events I think much of my cursing might have been excessive).  That it why I wisely chose not to write anything yesterday.  Instead I came home from work(cursing excessively) walked into the garage(still cursing) and proceeded to beat the daylights out of a block of cement. This might not sound like a good thing for most people but it works for me. I'm being slightly over-dramatic when I use the word "beat"--by that I mean carve, chisel, sand the concrete until I like what I see. Yesterday all the days "crappiness" for lack of a better word, disappeared as I immersed myself in creating something--all I can say is : Thank you Art
Peace and Love,
Amy

The Best Kept Secret in Art (shhh! don't tell anyone--it's concrete)

              Texture

Texture                                                                                                    

Texture

                                                                                                          TEXTURE

                 Texture

                                   texture

TEXTURE

                                                                                                           

                                                 TEXTure

TEXTURE

writing a blog Naked

Yes, that post title is a shameless attempt to garner attention (my attempt at a 'shock blog')
I am in fact fully clothed while I'm writing this. Speaking of clothes--every single piece of clothing I own has some art-related stain on it, ie. concrete stain, paint, glue, brake cleaner(don't ask)....am I the only quote unquote artist out there that has this problem?(please tell me I'm not the only one)--and sometimes I wonder if I'm using the "artist" title to justify these stains when in reality I might just be a real slob.

I promise to be more serious and even philosophical in the next installment of  "The Trials and Tribulations of a NAKED Concrete Artist (there I go again)
peace and love,
amy