I'm sorry, but I can't help myself...

I live in a commuter suburb about an hour outside Vancouver. The Olympics are here and although I am well aware that it's a fascist, corporate, money sucking event that hurts almost every city that hosts the games, I can't help myself.... I got the fevah. *bites hand*.

Stephen Colbert is in town and will be taping his show here for part of this week (you can read why here). I'm failing to make my family understand the importance of this and why we must get up super early and catch the train to Vancouver. Stephen Colbert to me is like the Jonas Brothers or Hannah Montana to an 8 year old girl, except I act all cool like and contain my screaming to inside my head. Both my daughters, age 8 and 10, reminded me that they neither like the Jonas Brothers or Hannah Montana... so there. And in all truthiness, my love of sleeping in will probably win over any celebrity fan love.

I suppose another reason I should hang my head in shame over my Olympic fever, is that arts and culture funding was drastically cut in the Provincial budget to help pay for the Olympics. The gallery where I participated in a show last month, like every non commercial gallery in the province, is desperately trying to find ways to survive. I suppose the not for profits will have to be better capitalists and find innovative ways to sell, sell, sell to public tastes. In some cases that might not be bad, in other cases, it will be, as the bigger venues, might have to cater to watered down, mainstream interests to generate the revenue to stay afloat. Mc-art for the Mc-masses.

During the Olympics though, arts in Vancouver are heavily involved, both in public art displays and events. My sister is in town and gave a great, hilarious performance in Fear of Flight, a theatre event for the Cultural Olympiad. I'm hoping to see as much as possible, but that will probably be a harder sell than dragging my kids to see Stephen Colbert.

I.F.

Wilderness

for Illustration Friday
and the final page of the traveling sketchbook
(You can click on the image to see it larger)

Thenthitive Artith

Musically this won't rank on any play list of mine, but it is silly and relevant.

I'm forcing myself to be less sensitive (okay, less misanthropic is what I really mean, ahem) and get out of my hermetic shell lately, first by getting 8 inches of my hair chopped off. It's not as though I was attached to my long hair as much as I don't like strangers touching my head. But getting the haircut was actually endurable, pleasant even. The hair stylist was a guy and we talked about how "terrible it is that in new Xbox game 'Modern Warfare', the violence is so realistic you can see brains splattered on windshields and stuff". No girly talk. Phew. But he did show me the proper way to style my hair, which I immediately forgot because there is no compartment in my brain designated to store fashion/hair information.

Next thing I did was enter a local juried art show. It's an annual show in our city gallery I've been meaning to enter for 10 years, but never pay attention to the deadline. It's the earliest (and simplest) goal for this year for art making and art showing. I won some sort of award for this piece.

I don't know which award, I have to go to opening night to find out. My reclusive self would rather not, but my ego will be pushing me out the door. I'll go and take pictures and try to be more entertaining. In the meantime, I suggest you go read Chris Rywalt's (author of NYC Art) hilarious post on some of the inane art making and art criticism in the NYC art scene.

Santa Claus and Killer Bunnies

This picture is from Awkward Family Photos, a hilarious and addictive site, go take a look.

Several years ago while shopping for Christmas gifts for underprivileged children in my town, my 3 three year old daughter made the inevitable logical connection and asked, "but Mommy why do we have to buy them presents, why doesn't Santa just bring them toys?" I hesitated for a moment, then gently told her the truth. I hate lying to my kids. Also, growing up in an Estonian household, the whole Santa myth is alien to me. We celebrated everything on Christmas Eve. Having Santa show up while you're nibbling your Estonian Christmas Eve dinner of blood sausage, head cheese and beet potato salad would be a tough trick to pull off (but a good distraction given the menu, bleh).

I've come across parents who seem to want to keep the belief in a magic fat old guy alive up until their kids are filling out their college applications. Many of those same parents have instilled a belief in their children of really goofy things, like the Easter bunny. I listened incredulously to a 7 year old and her parents talk about the giant rabbit that comes down from the mountains on Easter morning to bring her chocolate. Now that is f*cked. Because if that's the kind of weirdness we're having our kids believe, this could be equally just as true.....

Yes, more crows

"Unravel"
acrylic and aluminum
Ellen Sereda

It took a week, but I was able to finish the painting I mentioned in the last post. I think I spent as much time carving in the lines of the fossils at the bottom and the cityscape as I did painting the rest of the piece.

Focusing my spare moments on art has made me almost completely non verbal online. Actually, who am I kidding. It makes me non verbal in my day to day life as well. I just walk around mumbling and forget to comb my hair and button up my coat on cold days. It is good I have kids to bring me back to reality with their constant daily needs and chatter.

I did catch a recent video on TED highlighting Edward Burtynksy's photographic series on the landscape of oil. These jaw dropping images do remind me I should park (or do away with) my stupid minivan. Who says art doesn't have some real life impact.

The Last Day

Today is the last day of daily posting. I was a bit of a slacker. I managed 24 out of 30 posts. Looking back I realize that makes up over half my posts this entire year. It was a quiet year.

Today was a sad day too. It marks the end of my beloved road kill coat.

Road Kill Coat
R.I.P 2009

Road kill coat's tragic end came after hugging one of these things, a sweaty one.

I'm not really a horse person, so I don't know what overcame me. I think it was because the horse was sweet and patient and good to my daughter during her riding lessons and deserved hugging. I was cruelly punished for my loving gesture because road kill coat smells horrible now. I have no problem walking around looking scruffy, but smelling like Sasquatch's stinky lair is where I draw the line.

I so wanted to conclude this month with a spectacular post but I've been plagued with a migraine most of the day. I did get a little painting in. This is an early stage work in progress, some blocked in paint and the chalk lines are still visible. I'm figuring this one out as I go. I'm thinking it will end up being a fairly surrealistic painting.

In a few hours the busy holiday month begins. Nothing better to kick off the chaos with this holiday classic, Tom Waits', Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis. Love it. (thanks Tracy).

The Little Post

After watching this charming video I want to fill up the rest of my sketchbook with hand drawn pop ups. Listen to this lovely song, Lisa Hannigan's Lille...

A Dog Day

My dog Gracie is 13 today. I'm dedicating this post to her and to my friend Andrea, artist and dog lover whose hand injury has left her temporarily unable to paint. So to all dog lovers, lovers of dog art, here's a few links to keep you busy.

Photos of People Taking Photos of My Dog. I really can't explain my love of this site, because the title is the only thing this blog is about. Homer, a french bulldog, likes to sit and sleep in the window of his owner's gallery in Chicago. Passerby's take pictures of Homer and Homer's owner takes pictures of them. And that's it, but I like it.

Dog Art Today is where I found the above link. It's packed full of interesting gems of art, historical and contemporary references relating to dogs, but also so much more.

The Secrets Inside Your Dog's Mind is a fascinating article from TIME about dog behaviour and the evolution of the relationship between humans and dogs.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends tomorrow. I'm using this holiday, completely unrelated to me, as an excuse to take the day off from the computer. Yes, I'm a daily blogger dropout. A 30"x40" canvas that has been painted over 3 times is staring at me accusingly, saying, "Paint me or get a job at Walmart!". Obviously, I'm projecting, and possibly I'm getting a bit INSANE and need a cyber break of at least one day. See you soon.

The Little Blue Pill of Distraction

Bleh. I struggled with writing a serious post today, but deleted it. It was triggered after hearing of the Pope's meeting this week with 250 artists from around the world. Some of his comments in his letter to the artists made me contemplate that often stated, romantic, (and IMO inaccurate) ideal of beauty as truth. What I originally wrote was: " Life is a complex balance of opposites, no growth without decay, no light without dark and a those who futilely attempt to block out suffering in their lives usually experience very little joy as well. Most of the best art reflects the entirety of human experience, not shying away from the ugly or depraved. Believing art has some kind of moral responsibility to depict, beautiful utopian ideals is usually voiced most often by those who have the greatest attachment to dogma"

Kinda smartypants of me eh?

So, aaaaanywaaaaays, as I was trying to think through my thoughts and type something coherent, the puppy was being noisy chewing on a plastic bottle, my kids were talking and the TV was blaring the local news. Then a Viagra commercial came on. It's part of a cute, cheeky ad campaign for Viagra where an older man confesses how Viagra cured him and his wife from their antiquing addiction. After the commercial ended, my daughter said, "So Viagra helps you break habits? So, if we have habits we want to stop, like biting our nails, we should take Viagra!".

Ummm....

Post over.