Creating Art To Right The Wrongs
Sometime last year I wrote a post entitled "Making Art To Fuck With You" tonight it's something a little different - something along the lines of making art when you feel like life has fucked with you.
Now the whole business of rights and wrongs - goods and bads - these are dichotomies and they mess things up - with a dichotomy in play things tend not to move so how can I re-frame the subject of this post ....? Okay how about this .....
Creating Art For Pure Creative Satisfaction
So here's the deal. I can't use my skills to their fullest at work for what I think are really stupid reasons. Am I selfish - perhaps - but that doesn't change the fact that my job doesn't satisfy me. In trying to find a productive and positive way to counterbalance this unfortunate situation I circle back to where I started with my creativity many, many moons ago. Art made at home is the antidote to a job and career that are not fulfilling or reinforcing of one's identity.
My father was a public school teacher in California for most of my life. He taught 5th grade for some time and then moved on to 7th & 8th grade mathematics. Why he didn't off himself and/or wasn't sainted I do not know because either of those gigs would destroy most folk. But he survived and looking back I think he had a couple of very specific tricks up his sleeve.
Like clockwork every afternoon during the school year my Dad would come home from school, change out of his teaching gear and lie down for a cat nap. I remember him asking me to wake him up on many occasions. It took me a long time to understand what these little sojourns into sleepland were about - he was preparing for the *rest* of his day. After I woke him up he'd usually change into "work" gear and trundle down to the garage where he had a workshop setup. Down there you'd find the pieces of many different types of projects he was engaged in - there were wooden frames for silk screens and stained glass, table saws, sanding devices, and the usual array of hardware dads are required to covet.
This is where my father found his solace. Among his many creative accomplishments over the years he built (with the help of our family and friends) a cabin from the ground up on our property in Mendocino. I have the pictures of the two of us pouring the concrete foundation - my contribution to the pouring was minimal given that I was probably somewhere around 4 years old. He created designs and silkscreened t-shirts, aprons and posters for every troop and class I belonged to. Hanging in the dining room of my parents house are two stained glass windows that he labored over. The family room floor is a hardwood floor he laid some time ago. Every Christmas he took over the kitchen and whipped up batch upon batch of flavored hard candies for his students and our neighbors. Before I was born he made silver jewelry that my mom still wears on occasion. And that's just the beginning. When my Dad turned 50 he got his pilot's license, bought a small plane and restored the interior. I won't get into the laundry list of stuff he's been up post retirement suffice to say he's kept himself busy.
I know teaching frustrated my father; it's my understanding that beyond the everyday angst of dealing with 12 and 13 year olds was a feeling that the window for success with kids in the classroom given the nature of public education in California was extremely limited. It's clear to me that my Dad made up for the limitations of his career at home where he could allow his creativity to flourish.
It's also clear to me that my pull to music, art, fashion when I was young was out of a disenchantment with school and socializing with kids my own age. I was looking for opportunities to see what I was capable of - to use my imagination to make *something* and to express myself freely. This is really no different than what I am looking for some 20+ years later.
Over the years I've fought to bring more creativity into my career/day job - my philosophy is if I'm going to sit somewhere for 8+ hours a day it better be worth my brain's while. I'm tired of the fight really and starting to come to the conclusion that unless I go to work for myself getting my creative fix at home maybe the easiest way to satisfy that unyielding need.
Sometime last year I wrote a post entitled "Making Art To Fuck With You" tonight it's something a little different - something along the lines of making art when you feel like life has fucked with you.
Now the whole business of rights and wrongs - goods and bads - these are dichotomies and they mess things up - with a dichotomy in play things tend not to move so how can I re-frame the subject of this post ....? Okay how about this .....
Creating Art For Pure Creative Satisfaction
So here's the deal. I can't use my skills to their fullest at work for what I think are really stupid reasons. Am I selfish - perhaps - but that doesn't change the fact that my job doesn't satisfy me. In trying to find a productive and positive way to counterbalance this unfortunate situation I circle back to where I started with my creativity many, many moons ago. Art made at home is the antidote to a job and career that are not fulfilling or reinforcing of one's identity.
My father was a public school teacher in California for most of my life. He taught 5th grade for some time and then moved on to 7th & 8th grade mathematics. Why he didn't off himself and/or wasn't sainted I do not know because either of those gigs would destroy most folk. But he survived and looking back I think he had a couple of very specific tricks up his sleeve.
Like clockwork every afternoon during the school year my Dad would come home from school, change out of his teaching gear and lie down for a cat nap. I remember him asking me to wake him up on many occasions. It took me a long time to understand what these little sojourns into sleepland were about - he was preparing for the *rest* of his day. After I woke him up he'd usually change into "work" gear and trundle down to the garage where he had a workshop setup. Down there you'd find the pieces of many different types of projects he was engaged in - there were wooden frames for silk screens and stained glass, table saws, sanding devices, and the usual array of hardware dads are required to covet.
This is where my father found his solace. Among his many creative accomplishments over the years he built (with the help of our family and friends) a cabin from the ground up on our property in Mendocino. I have the pictures of the two of us pouring the concrete foundation - my contribution to the pouring was minimal given that I was probably somewhere around 4 years old. He created designs and silkscreened t-shirts, aprons and posters for every troop and class I belonged to. Hanging in the dining room of my parents house are two stained glass windows that he labored over. The family room floor is a hardwood floor he laid some time ago. Every Christmas he took over the kitchen and whipped up batch upon batch of flavored hard candies for his students and our neighbors. Before I was born he made silver jewelry that my mom still wears on occasion. And that's just the beginning. When my Dad turned 50 he got his pilot's license, bought a small plane and restored the interior. I won't get into the laundry list of stuff he's been up post retirement suffice to say he's kept himself busy.
I know teaching frustrated my father; it's my understanding that beyond the everyday angst of dealing with 12 and 13 year olds was a feeling that the window for success with kids in the classroom given the nature of public education in California was extremely limited. It's clear to me that my Dad made up for the limitations of his career at home where he could allow his creativity to flourish.
It's also clear to me that my pull to music, art, fashion when I was young was out of a disenchantment with school and socializing with kids my own age. I was looking for opportunities to see what I was capable of - to use my imagination to make *something* and to express myself freely. This is really no different than what I am looking for some 20+ years later.
Over the years I've fought to bring more creativity into my career/day job - my philosophy is if I'm going to sit somewhere for 8+ hours a day it better be worth my brain's while. I'm tired of the fight really and starting to come to the conclusion that unless I go to work for myself getting my creative fix at home maybe the easiest way to satisfy that unyielding need.
posted by Stacia @ 8:55 PM
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