With that HUGE bookseller going out of business, I ventured to the mall to see what bargains I may be able to pick up. As I ambled around the store, I found books I was interested in reading, but not as many as I thought I would. It was a bit disappointing, but as a book lover I wandered, checked out the cd and dvd's, the art books, debated about buying this months artNews, Wallpaper, and a few other design magazines (50% off), but passed on those as well.
I begin checking out the journals, debating about whether I want to get a "pretty" object in which to keep my thoughts. I usually keep a very utilitarian black and white marble schoolbook or spiral bound steno notebook as a way of keeping notes, sketches, wine labels etc in check. They serve the purpose well, and are a comfortable shape and form. PLUS they are inexpensive, and I don't care it they get roughed up by getting thrown into the back of Subaru.
Looking at the sparse offerings, and thinking that with the printmaking degree, and bookmaking classes I have taken since undergraduate school, I should just start making my own again. I have a small collection of books that I have made over the years and never used. After art school I went on a kick where I would make my own paper, deckle my edges, print the cover page, make a separate piece of artwork to be the cover, sew the whole thing together, and then never write in it. It was like my own thoughts and sketches would soil the piece. But, as usual, I digress.
Sitting on the floor between the displays was a pseudo goth / punk chick. Dyed black hair with brassy blond highlights, a light dusting of freckles across her pixie-ish face, and a full length black leather duster, she is digging through the piles as well. She hands me a leather bound book and asks if I am looking for anything specific. I reply that no, I am just debating about whether or not I wants to keep my thoughts and drawings in a nice book.
"Are you a writer?" she asks, "I am a writer and artist," she continues. I reply with, "No I don't consider myself a writer, but I just started a blog. I am actually an artist, but I write a lot. I have kept notebooks for years with my ideas, doodles, sketch and painting ideas, and I always debate about keeping them in a nicer journal but I don't."
"I keep a book of my writings and art as well" she replies. "I am an artistic genius, I draw, write poetry, take photos and paint. Would you like to see my book? I have it out in my car and it will only take me a minute to get it." OH shit. I am stuck. It is a cold, windy, rainy Sunday so let's be real. What else do I have to do. I wander around as she gets her book, and then follow her to the now closed coffee shop in the store where I meet her father and her daughter.
Before I can allow her to take control of the situation I take the book and begin thumbing through the assortment of pages. It is a good beginning, but exceptionally basic. It is in the same vein as a HS junior's book of dreams. She IS good, but needs a LOT more training. There are the typical trite "Poor Me" intermixed with "Angry Young Woman who Thinks She is a Feminist" type of poetry, and a few "I am SOOOO Creative, You Will Never Understand Me" drawings and photographs typical of the self absorbed creative types who are unwilling to actually learn the skills needed to render an actual piece of art.
And then I look again. I begin to make some unusual connections. I say to her, " I like the presentation of the poems. I love the serendipitous combination of the advertisements from facebook, and how they have lined up to enhance the first line of the poems."
Blank Stare.
"Don't you see this? You are writing about lost love, and here in the corner is an ad for a dating site with a bull taking a shit and a circle with a strike through over top of it. And look down here, this is an ad with 'You can start over' as it's tagline. This combination is in it's own subtle way brilliant. It makes this a cohesive piece of art, and actually enhances the poetry." It was a very cool juxtaposition that really did make the poems seem more adult. It would have made a fascinating small book in the style of postsecret.
She gets a bit huffy and begins telling me about her drawings, which to be quite honest, suck. Her rendering skills are very basic, with some actual training she could be VERY good, but she can't see beyond the fact the she created the image. To her it is perfect. The image which is her favorite is a tree stump, morphing into a hand, dripping blood, with leaves "sprouting" from the palm. "It is a good beginning," I say,"but it would be better without the leaves, and you need to get some more training in how to render images, it's not bad, but it's not 'Great'. It is a good start for someone that is self taught. You should try and take a drawing class somewhere."
She launches into the typical defensive posturing of a cornered artist. I stop her by saying look, you are untrained, I am not attacking you, and I think that there are some meritorious pieces in here, but you need to grow, a LOT. I leave her with a few suggestions, which kind of shocked her. Her poems were half filled with ridiculous mispellings, but only half way. I suggested that if she is writing about things that are broken, continue the broken mispelled words through the whole piece. It made it much more interesting. I explained to her about Ulysses by James Joyce, and it's utter lack of punctuation and capital letters, and how it was, in fact, a giant run on sentence. It is considered a brilliant, complex work I tell her, and she has NEVER even heard of it.
She said that other people said she should learn how to spell, to which I replied, fuck them. You have a good beginning, they aren't brilliant, but you could do something that is really creative if you stopped thinking they were done, and were willing to learn more.
She is someone who dabbles, and thinks her dabbling is brilliant. She could, in the future be quite valid as an artist, were I a teacher, I would definitely mentor her, because there is a spark inside her, and she shows potential. I don't think she wants to hear it though. Which is a shame, because she COULD be quite good, but she can't recognise her own failures. Not everything is good, and you can't learn if you can't see the mistakes.
I think that dabbling is a good thing, but only if taken in the right context. I am a dabbler. I don't pretend to be brilliant. My dabbling allows me to make connections. I think that as I have aged, all my dabbling is getting me ready for something big. There is a building urgency in me to "DO Something", and I hope it will come to fruition soon. I don't think I will ever stop dabbling, since the world is a fascinating place, and I don't want to ever stop learning and "playing" as I tend to think of it.
So play on dear readers, but don't be afraid to take something to the next level!!
No comments:
Post a Comment