Tilting the Void

Well--I haven't been blogging much lately, or creating, either--unless one counts knitting and spinning. Now the hot weather seems to have gone--we're back to the usual Northworst summer of rain and cool temperatures--I'm looking at making things again, and possibly taking up the old lance and tilting at writing's windmill. (Now you may have some enlightenment as to the title of the blog.)

Last night I went to my second Dr. Sketchy's Anti Art School session, of which we have a branch in my gritty little home town. The premise is you buy drinks (yes, I had some wine--a nice Argentinian malbec), make sketches of a burlesque model in various stages of undress, and generally have a good time. Yes--there is a definite irony involved; it's supposed to be unstuffy and un-art, but of course it ends up being very hip, very cool, and generally still very artsy, no matter what. It was more fun this time than the first time, and I actually got a couple less crap sketches by the end of the evening.





I really want to get back into making things again, even if it means tackling my bete noir, my horror of the object if you will. Ideas are grand, and so is the creative impulse, but once you've drawn or sculpted or written to the best of one's abilities--and so often falling short of the mark--then there exists the thing. Then what does one do with it?

I have fantasies about making a big bonfire at some point and willfully destroying everything I've ever made in one grand conflagration, one huge apocalyptic flame, mainly because the world doesn't need any more crap art in it.

And then I go make something else...