Art is for Nerds

Recently I received an invitation to join the Bookish project from my fried Stephanie Beck, and since then books just seem to be appearing all mixed in with my art viewing. Text in artwork has made me nervous in the past, and I find, as I get older, I am starting to develop a taste for it. All of the books I have read by Haruki Murakami have fed my imagery and fueled my artistic practices, and even inspired me to take up the pen. My most recent drawings have been inspired by poetry, song lyrics and conversations about theories of existence.
I have been lucky that in recent months I have been exposed to some outstanding works that involve looking at literature not only as an inspirational tool, but also as a building material, a physical medium. Chava has constructed an entire playhouse (would she be offended to hear me call it a playhouse?) about 5 or 6 feet high, comprised entirely of the rolled pages of romance novels. I was instantly tickled when I saw the images of the finished piece. In my imagination, Chava has kept all of the adult-themed sections of the novels in a binder somewhere and only used the boring storyline to construct the awe-inspiring building. I just love the piece. It seems so serious and so time-consuming, and the material takes it to a place that is much more joyful and giggly. I had the pleasure of meeting Daniel Hoffman at Bambi Gallery at First Friday last weekend. We had a great conversation about utilizing new media, teaching, and creating, and when I got home I had the pleasure of attaching a name to some amazing artwork. The giant elephant head protectively hovering over a stack of love-worn books punched me in the heart. It is just the right amount of something I cannot describe.
There are few things I find more potent than the image of stacked books, piled written pages, or notebooks crammed with handwritten text. In high school and college I would frequently fill notebooks with class notes, and intentionally spill out into the margins so that every inch of page was bursting with words. I would fit two lines of text into one barred line of the paper, keeping my lettering small, and my pen pressure hard. I would segment the paper into little boxes or more organic shapes, separating ideas from drawings from the information from lectures. At the end of class, if I was without a friend in the classroom, I would run my fingers over the tortured paper. It was so satisfying to know that I had recorded so much, and at the same time, I couldn't bear to look at the pages again. Studying was a nightmare, pulling out the necessary bits and mining for questions that may or may not appear on final exams.
It was an obsessive habit, and I occasionally find myself falling back into it, sacrificing order for visual pleasure. There are few things I enjoy more than running my fingers over a handwritten page, and feeling the work that I have done.

What I read about when I read about running

I just finished reading Haruki Murakami's memoir "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running." I finished the book in 3 days. For those of you that know me well, this is a pretty big deal. I was not disappointed.

About a year ago I told Michael Moore (not THAT Michael Moore, a personally influential faculty member at Pafa) that I was interested in creating a book of short stories based off of my bizarre, visually striking dreams (see dream exerpts here), and he suggested that I look at Murakami's work. His books are fantastic, and are a perfect complement to the visual and verbal work that I am doing now. He seamlessly moves from realistic representation to fantasy, and is never predictable or melodramatic. It is all so human. I have read "The Elephant Vanishes" and "After the Quake," and I have many many more books on deck. I was trying to complete my collection while shopping on amazon the other day, and chose "Dance Dance Dance" and "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running," not realizing that it is a memoir, and not a book of short stories.

The exciting part is, I can really relate to his sentiments, and I can apply a lot of his discoveries to my own writing and artistic practices. He talks about running to achieve a meditative state, that the repetitive action creates a blank space in which the mind can find clarity. I respect his discipline and drive. He runs daily for about an hour and participates in one marathon per year. (I only run twice a week if I go to the gym. More if I am angry about something) He also describes his experience with running an ultramarathon (62 miles, sweet jesus). He spends little time talking about the process of writing, but he communicates very clearly the way that this physical practice has has influenced his strength and stamina as a writer.

In one chapter he talks about his bicycle which is inscribed with "18 til I die" the name of a Bryan Adams song. He explains that it is a joke because, "Being 18 til you die means you die when you're 18."

The whole book is written in this simple and honest and human way, explaining what the process of creating is like for Murakami. It is entirely relatable and I finished the book feeling struck by something profound. This 58-year-old man I don't know is supporting me in my actions as an artist. I have NEVER made this kind of an imaginary connection with an author before. He, by way of this book, is allowing me to do whatever I want to do. I feel more now than ever that I can show my work, I can write this book, I can choose to perform a live-action piece, I can become an athlete, and I don't have to choose any one of these things. It was the perfect time for this text in my life. I had been feeling, quite recently, that it has come time for me to focus on one thing and really try to excel at it. But it has become quite clear now that if I would like to excel on my terms, I will have to do all of these things. I am not only a writer, or a painter or a sculptor or a teacher. I am tiny pieces of all of these things in different percentages. I need all of these facets to be the person I am. It's funny how you can realize the same thing multiple times in one lifetime, and it's not for lack of memory. How many times must we be reminded of who we are? Or is it an infrequent occurance in an effort to keep that feeling sacred and special?

I am inspired.

Highly reccommended reading for anyone who writes or makes art. i definitely went for a jog afterward.

The Uniform Project; Gaining Notoriety

The famous charity and accessorizing blog titled cThe Uniform Project is gaining a little bit of public attention through the Nau Collective and is being considered for their Grant for Change, which would supply Akanksha's School Project with an additional $10,000. (Independently, Sheena Matheiken and Eliza Starbuck have already raised $11,844 for the cause). Vote for their cause on the Nau Collective's website! You can also simply visit their site and donate $ directly, offer to donate accessories, or simply view the site regularly for new and exciting ideas about how to update an existing outfit rather than spend the money on a whole new wardrobe.

Little Somethings

As most of you know, my work is being featured in the NATURE exhibition in Caladan Gallery online. You can view the exhibition here, which features 3 of my pen drawings. The originals are for sale, and there are limited edition archival prints available of 2 of the pieces.
Additionally, I was googling my name the other day (as many vain people do), and I came across a most flattering blog entry by designer Kathy Davis. Check it out!

Up and Running

Finally!! The renovations and updates are complete at my website!!! Now you can visit www.gretchendiehl.com for my news updates, my most up-to-date images of my artwork, links to sites of other fantastic artists, and also view my latest revision of my artist's statement and CV/Resume!! I am excited, can you tell?! Anyway, take a moment to review all of the updated awesome and let me know what you think!!

(My site renovations were made possible by otherpeoplespixels.com. Any artist who is interested in designing their own site should totally look into working with them. Mustafa told me about their services, which are totally affordable. You can set up a free trial website, and then pay for it if you like how easy it is to use!!! They make updating and even selling through paypal really simple! Let them know that i referred you and i get a free month! and then you get a free necklace from me! ...or something, we can negotiate!!)

man babies

I've always been interested in the reasons people have for procreating. At 27, I am undecided as to whether or not children will be in my future, which does not particularly stress me out one way or the other. As a child, I collected Cabbage Patch dolls, and had, like, 50 (no exaggeration). I had a Barbie kitchenette, a kid-sized hutch and doll-sized cradles and strollers taking over my room. I thought that getting married and having children was the only way that becoming an adult would happen, and that unmarried women had some kind of social disorder. Once I started going to college, I started questioning all of the bizarre mommy-training that had been going on throughout my childhood (and almost every other woman's childhood), and have since been quite interested in my biological urges and the extent to which they can be attributed to conditioning. In this situation nurture obviously outweighs nature, but to what extent? When I think of myself as a mother in the future, is it because that is really what I want, or is it only the remnants of this strange doll tradition? When I believe that is not a part of my future, is that really what I want, or is it a backlash against the doll tradition? Who thought of giving little girls facsimiles of babies to play with in the first place?! I think almost every woman has to deal with the assessment of where these urges and counter-urges come from, whether or not it matters, and which ones win out in the end.
At the end of graduate school I started exploring this idea a little more intimately, and created a series of stuffed rabbits with masks of babies faces on them. They came out extra creepy and funny, and I called them the surrogates. I liked the idea that one object can stand in for another, or be a place-keeper for a period of time. The idea was training for motherhood, and the weirdness of that venture; stuffed animals get traded in for dolls, which are then traded in for pets, and eventually babies. We learn over time to make living things dependent on us, and we start to love the feeling of being needed. The second series I was sketching out was a similar idea that involved the idea of blending genes, or keeping a man. I was going to do a series of collages of images of mothers and babies, with and without fathers, where the babies were wearing masks of the father's faces. It was supposed to illustrate the idea of taking some of a man and transferring it onto a dependent new human being. It's a little sick, but sometimes I think it's part of the motivation to procreate.
Well, I never did carry out that collage series, but Emily did show me this amazing website that did what I wanted to do only better. I know they are probably just trying to be creepy and funny, but I think there's something poignant about it. Enjoy Manbabies.

The Uniform Project Revisited

Sheena Matheiken's brainchild The Uniform Project seems to be garnering lots of support for educational programs in India. The last time I checked, there had been about $250 donated by fans supporting the site, but today that total is over $5,000!!! If you have not checked out The Uniform Project, do so today. It is tons of fun, and an inspiring use of fashion as vehicle of social consciousness. I like anything that makes me feel good about my job.
Also, she featured one of my necklaces (designed by me, drawn by caitlin kuhwald) on Jun 27, 2009.