Process-oriented

From 2002-2004, whenever I went into my studio to paint, I read books. I started nearly each and every day with an hour or more of reading and note-taking, checking for new books in our tiny but well-stocked art library. My MFA in Painting thesis had more poetry than painting in it with 'titles as tenets as they related to various ideas and influences' (directly excerpted title). I was hot for Emily Dickinson, James Merrill, and appendixes. I included two, and the second appendix had endnotes for the endnotes.

Appendix II mentioned:

XII. Dutch coffee, which sometimes I miss to distraction
XIV. The color pink
XVII. Deep discounts

And a list of all the vehicles I had driven until 2004.

While I read and wrote, I smelled oil paint in our studios because we had poor ventilation. My professor listened to Eminem while peeling backing off of sticky vinyl to apply to her metal canvases. I did make paintings, big explosive ones that had volcanos, nuclear bombs, and sexy squiggles that I called map symbols. Later, I switched to paper because my work seemed better-suited to the hand-drawn and immediate, magnetized by words.

How does a hybrid of two-or-more comparable things: reader/note-taker, painter/writer, mother/expat, traveler/homebody, for example, allow something previously undiscovered to emerge?

The alchemical mixture of science lab-slash-library in my studio allowed for process-oriented discovery, and six years later the language of color and paint continues to transform.

From the inside out

Four years of nurturing a 'homepreneur' habit, and 2+ years of gently deflecting kind people who still ask why I don't teach English, I've just started to feel it is the right fit to work at home.  I venture to guess that most artists don't think of themselves as entrepreneurs (will have to save this thought for later investigation), and most of the time I don't think I am, either. But if you work for yourself (mostly), and make money doing something you love, doesn't business play a part in it? Over at IC, they talk about being a creative entrepreneur and it resonates with me. 

What I wonder is, where does the word 'entrepreneur' fit into this real-life description?: rise at morn to feed hungry duo-national Ameri-Turks + Turkish spouse, shuttle off first-born to nursery school after noisy stampede around house until 11 am, engage in quiet work time while second-born naps for a mere hour and a half, resume negotiations with second-born not to destroy house while I write or work on projects, do laundry, eat lunch, etc. until 5:30 when first-born comes home, followed by escapist downtime in kitchen making dinner while husband reacquaints himself with home and kids, ending with a song and dance bedtime routine and my own bleary eyes held open until midnight... I know I'm not alone in this, and that some women in this position would call themselves 'mompreneurs', but I'm still uncomfortable with this tag. I find myself gravitating towards the new domesticity. It fits a little bit better. Where's your tribe?

There was a time (a wee 3 years ago) when I was making handbags (while getting paid hourly to plead with university-level students to speak English at a language school), that I felt I had to hide the fact that I didn't have a "real" studio, atelier, or brick 'n mortar shop for my handbags. Now it is almost the opposite: I've invited more and more people into my home studio through twitter, illustration, and active engagement with others about crafting a creative life like in this blog post. This is such a relief. To align my work with my life instead of the other way around.

Lately I've been thinking about what's next. One day (soon) the kids will be too old to share a room. We live in a modest 3-bedroom apartment and I'll either have to leave the nest to work in a studio space outside, or we'll have to search for a 4-bedroom apartment in Turkey, which is more difficult than it sounds. I'm not sure about re-entry into outside life. I quite like it here.

A Slice of Studio

Seams to Me, by Anna Maria Horner on top of my first patchwork quilt, followed by a couple shelving photos. I've been in organization mode, repurposing plexi containers and bins that once held magazines and then toys. Lately I've been buying binders and putting everything in a clear folder. Fun.