Paths

I've been thinking a lot about our paths and where my life is headed. People grow up being asked what they want to do or be at every major milestone and in between starting as early as kindergarten. I'm 25 and I still have no clue. I'm willing to try anything because I'm afraid I will miss out on something I could have truly loved (this may even explain my dating philosophy, but that's another story). I have a list of things I want to try and I add to it every day. One thing Jen has taught me is to be willing to try things you aren't familiar with. Jen is currently away for the week and I've been using my spare time to research new technique and play mad scientist in the sculpture studio. Friday I will be constructing a fire pit to attempt to finish a ceramic piece I hope to enter into the end of the year show at Cal State. I'm excited to see what comes of my trials and errors and to report back to Jen when she returns. Hopefully I will still have both of my eyebrows. It's hard to see where things are headed for me. I'm enjoying the journey but can't quite make out the destination. I'm ready to push the limit. This year here has shown me more than my brain could have ever imagined. I'm grateful and I'm amazed by what can be accomplished and I look forward to all of the discoveries waiting to be overturned.

Influential Intrigue

I often wonder where our creative ideas come from. Judging by what I have seen of differing processes, our ideas sometimes seem to blur together. Sometimes our best ideas may be just scratches on the surface of a grandiose creation. One of my favorite aspects of helping Jen is witnessing her intrigue and excitement when it comes to experimentation with new materials and solutions. She is constantly pushing her work forward and witnessing her ideas evolve is a spectacular process. Her work is so methodical and intricate that it is somewhat mind bending to imagine an increase of complexity, but these abilities are like parts of her tool set. I don't think you can afford to be afraid to make bad work when you're trying something new. There seems to be so much value in just the act of searching for successful approach and experimentation even without knowing why or how it may come in handy. Sooner or later it all seems to come together. I spend a lot of time thinking about how my experiences with Jen are effecting my own work. I feel like I am slowly starting to understand three dimensional forms thanks to the dissection of shapes that make up Jen's sculptures. I'm currently working with both ceramic and metal sculpture and I can sometimes see little traces of shapes and color that I must have absorbed in Jen's studio. I'm fascinated by how people share and subconsciously pick up technique and style from each other. Do people more often appreciate art that they feel emulates their own work or does the appeal come from some unclear bond that's made between a thought or feeling and reality, linked by the sight of some visual object? I wonder how these things change us. I find Jen's work inspiring and uplifting. Standing in front of one of her pieces, it's hard to concentrate on anything else but simply observing the work. There is a sense of peace and wonder about that which I hope to someday emulate in my own work. For now: trial and error!

Hello and welcome to my latest blogspot! I look forward to the opportunity to spend some time reflecting on my adventures in the studio this quarter as I continue my position as intern for artist Jen Stark. First, I would like to share with you a little bit about how this all came to be:

One year ago, my grandmother passed away. When my grandmother was in her 20's, she picked up and moved from small-town Clearwater, Kansas to San Francisco on her own. She survived breast cancer and raised children without a husband and found ways to experience joy in her life with limited means and support from others. She taught me how to take pride in myself and always encouraged me to explore the things that fascinated me, which, I've found, sometimes takes a great deal of courage. She believed in me and thought I was talented even when I was letting my potential idle. When she passed away, I decided I needed to do something different with my life. I had recently began taking classes full-time again and decided to take the little bit of empowerment I felt and run with it. I discovered my school had an exchange agreement with California State University in San Bernardino, and applied the next day. After my acceptance, things started coming together. I found Jen's work on a website called ffffound.com; the website is a series of linked photographs that are networked together based on similar aesthetic qualities. I had been looking up fractal & geometric designs for inspiration for a design project and voila! There she was. After discovering her work, I began to follow her on Twitter so that I could catch updates of newer works. After I made the decision to move, I caught a post from Jen about her upcoming move to LA. Boom! I replied to her post and asked her if she'd need any help after her move. Much to my surprise, she emailed me back and we set up a time to meet shortly thereafter. Time has flown by and it is now April, a year since this major shift in my life began. Helping and getting to know Jen has been an incredible part of my journey and I'm constantly astonished by this new reality I've found myself in. While in the studio on Friday, I asked Jen what she felt motivated her in life. I've been experiencing a lot of perplexity towards the topic, because I can't really explain what motivated me to get here or what motivates me to create art. Getting to know Jen, I have come to appreciate her as one of the most dedicated individuals I have ever met. I see her work differently now that I am more familiar with her process. In the layers of color, I see layers of intrigue and experimentation. She's shown me how to push an idea beyond what may initially seem possible. I often wonder what drives someone to go beyond the conceivable; it's a strange addiction, wanting to push an idea without knowing what compels you. Our conversation left me with this: sometimes you may not know why you want something, or even what it is that you really want. Ideas sometimes reveal themselves to you in stages, operating on a time lapse that isn't on a controllable or even predictable pace. The momentum we build when we take leaps into the unknown continues as long as we decide to keep going and push ourselves beyond what we may have once believed possible. I'm pleased to know Jen Stark. I hope you enjoy these tales of discovery as she shares with me her fascination with the science and mathematics of visual arts. Until next week...