Sh-Boom

Sarah Morris

I like this.

and this.

and this.

and this.

Meanwhile, I'm making this:

It seems anti-climactic... but I don't think it really is all that surprising. I've always loved line, pattern, repetition, and anything that confuses the eye (or, more accurately, the brain). I'm interested in the difference between what exists and what we perceive-- and the differences between the collective "we see" and the individual "I see". One could argue that these differences are easiest to "see" in op art but trickle down through the styles and are important to each individual viewing experience. As an artist, I recognize these differences, I'm acutely aware that I view the world through a different filter than everyone and anyone else, and I desire to communicate visually with others both because of and in spite of these differences. These pieces remind me of this struggle and remind me of these ideas more acutely than, say, Emily Eveleth's photorealistic and abstract paintings, while enriching these other viewing experiences with this knowledge.

Okay?

Shake Appeal

Linda Besemer follows in the tradition of Victor Vasarely

Her work:

I used to love these pieces. I studied them in high school. I made things like them in high school. There was a time (yes, in high school) when I thought I'd always use some sort of optical illusion or Gestalt-ian principle in my work. 

His work:

 In a way, I was right.

I think it's good to look back at your foundations and good to stretch the idea of "foundations". No, my work doesn't immediately look like something Vasarely-like but it does involve pattern and repetition... they're challenging to me. That makes them good for me. I don't know what that means for you but, regardless:

Enjoy!

All I want is you

Emily Eveleth

It's no secret that I love doughnuts. I blame it on watching too much Twin Peaks.

I also happen to be continually mesmerized by fat and the body. It's malfunctions and disfunctions and proper function. As a scientist, I've dedicated my life to figuring out how things work and how we work on a microscopic level but this obsession has made me prone to romanticism of the body as a whole. 

 When the complexity of something small like a cell is so overwhelming, it's hard to comprehend an entire body working, short of magic. To me, these paintings show that magic. I can't look at them and NOT think of our fat little stomach pouches, our wrinkles, and that mysterious entity we call our "guts"

The body is gross and gorgeous. What we do to it and how it responds equally gross and gorgeous. Gross and gorgeous is really my thing... and it appears to be Emily Eveleth's thing, too.

Boom boom

Amanda Mccavour

I am overwhelmed

She sews into fabric that dissolves in water, leaving just the threads behind, (re)creating a living room and hung from the ceiling. Wow.

I've been thinking about the hidden, the missing, and the things left behind lately and this is a perfect example. Enjoy!

more can be seen here // I found her through poppytalk

hidden love

 I've been thinking a lot about what's shown and what's hidden. In addition to Michelle Ramin (who I just posted about) these artists use this idea when making their work:

 Austin Power

Colin Chillag

Olivia Jeffries

 

Laura McKellar

Emily Barletta

Wait

Narrative is so important in a body of work. I've been in "making" mode lately and instead of inundating myself with images of artists online, I've focused on stories. Reading a good book or story or resonating quote pushes my desire to make and helps me forget my desire to stop. think. rewind. rethink.

 Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground.
I've read it what seems to be one thousand times. It's my go-to book and something that continually invigorates me as a "maker".
 

"Twice two's four watches smugly, stands in the middle of your road with his arms akimbo, and spits. I agree that twice two's four is a marvellous thing; but to give everything its due praise, twice two is five can also be a very nice little thing." -Dostoevsky

Currently, I'm reading two fantastic stories (really):

 

Is there anything to say about these? I'm not sure. 

Nice day for a

After a month of solid wedding planning that I refuse to bore my few readers with, I am back. I bring you, Michelle Ramin.

I'll admit it. I'm a little infatuated with her figurative and architectural works. 

Patterns. Realism. Familiarity. More patterns. And detailed line work. 

I like their feel. I both like and dislike that it's art I'd put in a house. I like what's missing and I like what's given. They remind me of every street I've ever seen, the way they seemed in memory, the way my house is purple in my head but in reality it's a pale purplish hue.

They're frozen and in motion, colorful and not overwhelming, detailed and sparse. Enjoy.