I am not a very fancy artist. Though I used to think I wanted to be. The day I matriculated at the University of Chicago in the Master's Program for contemporary art, I left all notions of craft and actual art-making behind in favor of putting my brain on a conceptual treadmill. I'll tell you about the day I quit:
One student, Mince, let's call him, turned in as his semester final a twenty page long list of everything in his studio. All my professors were standing around scratching their chins, contemplating this tidal wave of unbridled genius. One said, "Now, let's talk about what Mincent meeeeeaaaaans with this list." When they came to me, I said, "It means I should quit. Like, right now." No Master's Degree from The Committee on Visual Art. AND THAT'S HOW I WAS GONG TO MAKE THE BIG BUCKS, GUYS.
So since then, I've been on a slow trek down from the pretentious peaks of high art. I used to be self-conscious, in a way, about a love of craft (both in the work of contemporary artists I'm drawn to, and just craft for the glory that is something well-crafted). But that's over now, and I get my kicks out of loving on all of it. I see the germination of high art forms in the simplest and most mundane craft work and I can also appreciate the craft that is inherent in certain contemporary works that may at first seems off the cuff and careless.
So it brings me to some recent work on textile panels. These here I made.
I was really interested in the strong feeling of satisfaction I have with these and the influences I was channeling when I designed them.
OMG, I just had a revelation that the color is totally and exactly Matthew Barney Cremaster! I loved that work once upon a time. And I think the composition is a little bit Anni Albers, little bit Clay Ketter? Anyway, it's really fun to see all the compartments in my brain for design, craft and art bastardizing one another.
I am tired now because I have so many children. I better stop writing. Suddenly. Before I say something stupid. That above paragraph is starting to show the strain of sleep deprivation. Goodnight.