Thankful

On my cab ride to 2300 market street today I caught a little NPR on the cabbie's radio and heard a man being interviewed by the dude that assists Terry Gross on Fresh Air. He was talking about "cultivating gratitude" and about the benefits of keeping a "gratitude journal" to remind yourself of all of the wonderful things you have in your life to appreciate. He claimed that keeping a journal like this helps people to recognize good things as they are happening in their lives, and helps them focus on the positives, rather than dwelling on the negatives. (He goes on to claim that people who keep gratitude journals and train themselves to think positively have experienced a decrease in blood pressure by about 10%).

In the spirit of this broadcast, in conjunction with my second-or-third-favorite holiday, I'd like to engage in a little exercise that takes this idea to heart.

#1. My Friends. I have always been lucky in my friends, and always surrounded myself with supportive, generous people who consistently demonstrate their excellence through acts of kindness and witty banter. My friends support me, laugh with me and challenge me, and I believe they have had a better-than-positive effect on my physical and psychological health. Emily keeps my stress levels at a minimum and shares so many interests with me that I rarely have to ask, "do you want to...?". Nicole keeps me creatively motivated and grounded, reminding me of real-time demands and the practicality of my own endeavors. Kristin keeps me smiling, Kathryn keeps me thinking, Jeanette keeps my ideals where they are and Jaimeson keeps me questioning and critiquing (I'm sure he will find this optimistic spiel vomit-inducing). This year, because of Didier, I was able to visit Paris, get my jewelry in a French boutique, and network with tons of international artists and gallerists. This has truly been a year of new opportunities.

#2. My Family. It's far too easy for me to under-appreciate my family. Visiting only 3 or 4 times a year for extended periods of time can make any group seem overwhelmingly insane. My parents and both brothers currently live in the same town, wearing on each others nerves for months on end between my visits, so I usually walk into arguments that have been going on for weeks. Regardless, as uncomfortable as 5 people sitting at a dining room table arguing about one of our cousin's facebook accounts can be, I have a delightful one-on-one relationship with each of the people in my immediate family, and I don't know if many people can say that. My parents have always been a good balance between friend and disciplinarian, they have never imposed their religious or political beliefs on us and always made me feel free to pursue any kind of career and education.

3. My Job. I consider myself extremely lucky to have landed a full-time gig during these rough economic times and try to keep other people in mind when applying for extra classes or hours. Teaching has also allowed for me to learn about the business side of art and craft. Without this teaching experience, I would not have taken my jewelry business as far as it has come. In the winter, I will be taking on an intern to help me with all of the extra work, and for Kathryn and Emily and Jeanette helping me out at Moore, I am extremely grateful. This job has also allowed me enough free time to work on my jewelry, my drawings, and to start painting again. I have learned so much in preparation for classes here. I was not necessarily expecting that when I got the job, but it is a delightful mingling of ideas and information; going from buying at the Mood to teaching at the Art Institute, to making jewelry and drawing and showing my work.

4. My Art. I am lucky in my artistic interests, they keep me busy and entertained. I have yet to get bored with making things, it takes up almost all of my free time, and makes me happy. I am lucky in my varied artistic interests. I need variety to keep me balanced. The book of stories, the illustrated short story, the jewelry, the dolls and the new painting projects have all contributed to what I percieve to be a healthy balance of creative interests. Everything influences everything else, and it all feeds me.

Feel free to post some stories about what you are thankful for. Even if you think it's cheezy, it might lower your blood pressure, or something.

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.