art is not (always) bullshit

the conversation began simply and innocently enough. after carefully applying both apricot and plum preserves to his breakfast slices of french bread, my boyfriend turns to me and says, "look. this is my art." we chuckle, and i start applying both to my bread, joking that i am not stealing his idea but calling it my own and i will provide him with an essay explaining why what i am doing is new.

we laugh at this critique of contemporary art.

then he says (to the best of my memory, though the exact wording may be off), "that is why do not like art. so much of it is mired in bullshit."

i laugh again. and i agree at the moment.

but then i start thinking.

this is my open letter to all who think art is mired in bullshit. it started as an e-mail, but perhaps this is a better forum.

"This is probably not something to be read quickly at work, but I have been thinking about the art = bullshit idea all morning. For some reason, it really sent me on an introspective bend. First, I believe it is something of a generalization, and one I can find humorous because I've certainly come across it...Ray at night or TNT are fertile grounds for finding examples. I also think that part of your belief comes from not having an in depth knowledge of it or an interest or inclination, much as I find economics tedious or calculus irrelevant to my daily life. Of course they are important, but it all seems so uninteresting and useless to me. But, having acknowledged that much of the contemporary art world is founded on bullshit, I still believe art itself (and design as a very closely related field) still has profound value, and is often dismissed as superfluous educationally and intellectually. I think that is a mistake. Reason and logic are important. They do make us human. But there is more to humanity than left brain. I only bring it up b/c the whole thing made me question why I'm dedicating my life to something that is often perceived as bullshit. Am I just another purveyor of meaningless, gratuitous work? Am I somehow less intelligent for choosing to learn about visual communication instead of mathematics? Is art irrelevant? Culturally, I think most people would say yes. I think it unfair. And I'd like to think it is not true. I may not understand physics and I am struggling with the simplest CSS programming, but I understand how to use imagery to communicate ideas, emotions, new ways of seeing. The last time the we pass each other on the street book was exhibited, the people featured in it walked away with a new sense of pride in their words, their stories, and their recovery. Almost all of them told me the experience was one of great healing for them, and of great pride. Several visitors to the exhibit told me that it gave them a new perspective on addiction, and made the people in the program seem so human. The work gave others the opportunity to see these addicts as people. It made a difference to the addicts, to their families, and maybe changed some perceptions. Of course it wasn't all my doing; their stories were completely moving before I visualized them. But the visual work took the words to another place, and though it may sound overly new age cheeseball, I think it got some people in the heart. It isn't necessarily measurable or tangible. But I have to believe it is important. And I guess I'm telling you all of this because I want you to understand why I am making art/design and why it is so important to me. It isn't just what I do. It's who I am and how I live. And I work my ass off to make sure it is not bullshit. well, most of it isn't, anyway."

campylobacter (or how i've been sick for a month)

so i came back from mexico with some friends. bacteria that made my stomach cramp, burn, growl...and many other things. i've been sick for a freaking month. i finally get two weeks off, and i spend it battling these freeloaders. and i didn't even really lose weight...just some muscle. bummer.

final process book project

a design not about itself, but about the designer —ed fella

most thinking designers and artists will agree on the importance and value of the process. sometimes arduous, sometimes intuitive, sometimes magical and others workmanlike, the process is the journey, the narrative that gives life to the work.

so to document the process of a quarter spent analyzing, defining, and pushing the limits of process (or methodology), is, well...a journey of a journey.

few projects have taken me to such introspective depths as this one.

the assignment was to document the process of the quarter. whatever that meant for us. to document our projects, our thoughts, our reactions, revisions...and growth.

from the start of the quarter, my whole approach was grounded on a belief that risk-taking and reflection were the keys to my creativity. understand the problem, pursue the most communicative, beautiful, passionate solution rather than the easiest solution, then reflect, analyze, criticize, refine. all of my projects from the quarter followed suit in their own ways, and it became clear that intuition and passion were my guides. sometimes this produced unexpected results, but more often than not, the unexpected results were tremendous growth experiences or innovative solutions. either way, they weren't safe, and that resulted in accepting a certain level of failure into my process. it would happen when i wouldn't have solved the problem totally successfully...but it always allowed me to leap forward onto something...well, something that embodied my beliefs and loves.

so when the task came to put all of this into one final book, i knew i couldn't just create a pdf with a standard grid and boxed photos......if i spent the quarter exploring, pushing, and taking risks, now was the time to step it up.

i decided to take a moleskine sketch book, my favorite kind of journal, and create and hand-made book of sorts documenting the process. call it a scrap book, an album, a journal...doesn't matter. it was a narrative documenting the way i thought, grew, created, communicated and moved through the quarter.

it was the most challenging project of my life, and one of the most rewarding. exhausting. enjoyable. and meaningful. i don't know if i have ever reached the level of personal communication about the way i think and approach problems and creativity as i did with this book.

at one point in the quarter, i posted this thought on the discussion board: the idea that this quarter had been about pushing ourselves to go to uncomfortable and challenging places and see what comes out and grow. as i looked at the books of my classmates, beautifully organized and rendered in PDF...i was jealous and angry with myself. i was very sick, had to go to urgent care, and weak. tired. and just ready to end the quarter. yet...when i could have probably created a lovely book in the software, i took the difficult path, choosing to do something i have never done before and to take it all of the way.

and it was worth every step. i learned more about creativity, passion, risk, love, and life in crafting these pages than i have ever have in my formal education to this point.

maybe the product doesn't hold together completely. but it embodies everything i believe in about visual communication theory and practice, and if nothing else, it is a celebration of a time of growth, with all of its joy and discomfort.

i accept its little failures and rejoice in the big payoffs.

san miguel de allende > 11 agosto > coming home

woke up early and met up with erika and katie to go to the panaderia, a bakery with mexican pastries, most notably empanadas and conchas(?)...i think that's what that's called. it's the one that kind of looks like a shell. it is round with icing. the empanadas are pastries with fruit or some have tuna...not the fruit, the fish. so for 59 cents, i got about 6 pastries. we went to the zocolo steps with some coffee, and enjoyed. well, first i bit into a mystery empanada...and of course, it was tuna. gag. hot tuna in the morning. luckily i had a warm concha to rid my mouth of the taste.

from there, we went to the market to buy a birthday gift for fernando, the boy who served us breakfast every morning for the past two weeks. we got him dulces and a spiderman bag and gave him some cash. we dropped it off up at the mirador, apparently right at the same moment when...

barbara's purse, wallet, and passport were stolen. apparently she was scammed by that sketchy woman i saw behind her and her male partner who i didn't see. the scam involved spilled mustard and water. and we were supposed to leave in 30 minutes. after a brief flurry of panic...

a police report, a call to doris, and the chaos of all of us in the lobby with suitcases. the bus arrived, and we followed the police to the station so barbara could make a report. she was going to have to cross with only photocopies of her passport and this police report. needless to say she was nervous.

the bus ride to the airport was relaxing. i got a bit of homework done. it was about the best part of the trip.

the guanajuato airport was busy and each suitcase was searched. mine weighed 23 kilos over the limit, so i had to pay $$169 USD to get my luggage home. it was so frustrating b/c they tried to run my card, and it was declined even though i had plenty of cash. i asked the agent to try again, and she refused. so i had to run to the atm, take out more pesos ( i now have an abundance of pesos in my hello kitty bank), and run back to pay. meanwhile, the people on my trip are disappearing, and the hour of the departure for our plane creeping closer.

of course, this is mexico. we were supposed to take off at 1:15. the plane hadn't even arrived by that time. try 2:15. awesome.

the flight home seemed quick by comparison to my usual baltimore flight. some food, a nap, itunes, and some conversation. it wasn't all that bad.

but then we got to tj.

apparently, after finally getting our bags, we were going to have to load them on the bus, drive to the otay mesa border, then unload the bags, walk them across the border, then load the back on the bus. remember how heavy my bag was? oh, and i had two others to carry. i was so unhappy. i sported dark blue and black and yellow bruises all up and down my legs for weeks. and i broke one of my esteban valdez pots. cranky doesn't cover it.

the good news was that barbara made it across the border. mustard shirt, photocopied passport and all.

the trip home to city was uneventful. kim picked me up, and we all dispersed rather quickly. tiring day.

naps, thai food...it was a good night. though my stomach started hurting a bit. i figured it was just the trip (little did i know it would last the entire month of august).

in one final footnote...
we had a reunion of sorts this tuesday, and enrique, who stayed in Mexico for an extra 2 weeks, told me that an hour or less after the stolen passport incident, doris, our guide and assistant for the trip, got a call from the thieves offering to sell back the passport to her for a price! what a deal?

san miguel de allende > 10 agosto

lately, when i drink, i get terrible insomnia. i am exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep off the evening, but am wide awake. this night was no different...a few short hours of sleep, and then up early in the morning for a walk and some photos. i walked one last morning down to the cafe to pick up cds. for fear of getting them in trouble, i won't name the cafe name, but the owner has an enormous collection of music and for a little under $3 per disc, he'll make you copies of whatever discs you want. it was a total treat to go down there, listen to some music, pick out some discs, drink some coffee and just relax. i did this the day before, then came back early before class to pick up the goods. it was a good walk back, a nice morning, and though a bit tired, i was enjoying life.

today's class began by looking at contemporary mexican designers. viewing their work and hearing about their visions made me realize what a profound influence mexican art, design, culture has had on my own work. seems odd since i am not mexican. and i don't live in mexico. but i do live in san diego, and i did go to school at san diego city college, and i think there is a strong mexican/chicano influence there. it is a beautiful discovery, and one that is just furthered by this study abroad trip. people have asked me why i chose to live in san diego. i think the excitement of the border culture is a big part of it. and though i'll never fully be "mexican" and i'm sure i'll never fully understand what it means to be mexican, i can say that my work is surely a product of the living on the border. and i am very proud of that.

from class, we ventured out to a mask gallery and folk art gallery. these were located inside a beautiful bed and breakfast. the galleries were informative and the masks intriguing. wonderful insights into the culture through art. cultural beliefs that i didn't know...the distrust of the moors, who are almost always painted red, often with large and strangely shaped noses. interestingly, there were many masks of black people. apparently, though appearing uncomfortably racist at first, the informative cards next to the masks explained they were actually held in high esteem. apparently the negritos, as they were called, were slaves of spanish settlers. they had great knowledge of fishing and farming, and were respected by the native peoples for their knowledge of the land and their strength. it was an interesting viewpoint, and one i had not known. the other masks were just as interesting...skulls, bulls, saints, devils. famous folk characters. and all had been danced, which made them even more interesting. the folk gallery also had interesting toys and calaveras, as well as these beautiful cut-paper art works made from hand-made papers. they were some of my most favorite works from the trip, mostly for their graphic simplicity.

we left from there to do some shopping at akitsch, a really funky store that was closing. i got a lucha belt buckle, for crying out loud! too bad they weren't staying open. they had the most fun stuff i saw down in san miguel.

we had lunch at a vegetarian restaurant with the sweetest and funniest woman i have come across in a long time. she was chef, waitress, and hostess. oh, what a character! it took a long time, but was well worth it...a home-made tofu burger never tasted so good!

the evening ended rather quietly for me, with a bit of homework, some packing and some roommate time. i was happy to end it at this point. i still enjoyed the company most everyone on the trip, and yet, was looking forward to returning home.

san miguel de allende > 9 agosto

tree sculptures on the way to instituto allende.

i woke up early this morning for a walk to the park in search of these tree sculptures as described to me by sally, who told me that they were political and interesting...so i was up for the adventure. it is a winding, very steep hill that descends down what seems forever, past the cultural center and into the beautiful park...it seems the only place one could really run or exercise in town. i ran into lucia on the way down, who was going to spanish class, and she told me about the craziness that had ensued the night before. it was a pleasant walk. the other side of the park is another entire part of san miguel that i had not seen yet. older businesses, galleries, and many shops. even a health food store, complete with comforting health food store smell. it was a great walk. but i didn't find the sculptures. i then had to hurry back for breakfast, and to class. well, it turns out we were going down to the instituto allende anyway to see the galeria pergola. they feature modern mexican masters. it was a top-notch gallery, with some interesting up-and-coming artists, including lupina flores, yolanda marroquin, and alfonso marti. they also had a tamayo piece, which was great to see in person. interestingly, the owners, originally from texas, own a place in pozos...the ghost town. pretty cool. the link to their gallery: http://www.galeriapergola.com/pergola/en/index_home.html

after the gallery, candice offered to take us to the mero gallery. only a few people went, but we were treated to an amazing collection of graphic works including work by several cuban artists who were amazing. several of the pieces were art books, and they were totally inspiring. i'm still looking for my notes on the artist names, but this work was my favorite of all i had seen in san miguel.

all of this art seeing left me hungry, so leah and i got some health food and then took off to do some final shopping. i picked up some fun jewelry and religious art presents. i can't remember much after that until we went out that night...
>>>>>

i've been trying to balance personal observations and stories so as not to be overly voyeuristic, but this is pretty darn funny, so i thought i'd share. it was our goodbye dinner. libations flowing, though not for me until later in the eve. conversation was lively, and the dinner ended with us finally donning our lucha masks (mexican wrestling)...about 20 of us. we all posed and laughed, and ended our official time together with smiles. from there, we ventured to the berlin bar/restaurant, where i had $50 in free drink coupons. combined with two other people, we were able to get a group of about 10 pretty toasty. don julio reposado and i became reaquainted, and i began telling all kinds of wacky stories about hobbiton and broken down volkswagens in the ghetto of dc, and the van catching on fire. apparently these were highly entertaining, as several people asked me to tell them again later in the trip. from there, a good chunk of us then went to chocolate (i think that's what it was called...i can't remember for sure), which becomes a bar and after hours club at night. more tequila, though not much, and soon we were taking photographs in the bathroom, hiding toilet paper, dancing to uber gay disco, and eventually, i jumped dukes of hazzard style over a couch. twice. oh, and it was gay pride weekend in san miguel, so a lesbian band played iron man in spanish. we laughed a lot, enjoyed ourselves, and then enrique and erika and i grabbed a cab home. erika put on her lucha mask again. when we got to the door of the hotel, the man said, "trick or treat" in spanish. it was hilarious. a fun night all around, and just enough of a party for me.

san miguel de allende > 8 agosto

pozos. a once great mining town. here is the history from their web site:

A SHORT HISTORY OF MINERAL DE POZOS

Before the arrival of the Spaniards, the region was populated by nomadic tribes such as the Pames, Jonas and others collectively know as the Chichimeca. Their ancestors still live in the area to this day.

In the middle of the Sixteenth Century, after the discovery of silver in Zacatecas, a leg of the Camino Real passed through the valley below and to the north through the present day city of San Luis de la Paz. To protect the wagon trains moving north and south, the army established an outpost called Palmar de Vega, the first settlement of Pozos.

At around the same time, Jesuits arrived in San Luis to evangelize the local population. Legend has it that they brought the priests silver that they mined near the military outpost in an area know today as Santa Brígida (Saint Brigit in English). The mineral wealth was at the surface and the indigenous inhabitants had a very simple operation to extract it. The Jesuits began to mine the area using existing European techniques and continued to do so until 1767 when they were expelled from all the Spanish Realm.

Mining ceased until 1844 when the modern era of mining begins in Pozos with limited mercury extractions. By this time , the area is know as San Pedro de los Pozos. In 1871, what remained of the Jesuit mining operation was acquired by Francisco Torres and JM Cobos. Two years later The Parkman family of the England acquired title to the property.

With discoveries of lodes just to the west of town, Pozos begins to grow in importance as a mining district towards the end of the Nineteenth Century. Within a few years Pozos enters a boom period and, in honor of then President of Mexico, Porfirio Diaz, who was also one of the town's most important promoters, the town was elevated to the status of municipality and renamed Cuidad Porfirio Diaz. By 1895, there were 500 mining concerns, 306 operating mines and 70,000 to 80,000 residents. The Mexican stock exchange, the Bolsa de Valor, is founded to promote shares in Pozos mines beginning with Cinco Señores.

1910 marked the beginning of the Mexican Revolution and the beginning of the end for Pozos. The cessation of mining operations during the fighting and the subsequent flooding of the mines combined with a dramatic fall in the world price of silver to cause the mines to begin to close. Finally, with the advent of the Cristeros War in 1926, the last mine, the Angustias-Dolores, closed a year later in 1927.

By the 1950s, there were perhaps only 200 or less people living in Pozos.

In 1982, then Mexican President Jose Lopez-Portillo decreed Pozos a National Historic Monumental Zone recognizing Pozos's importance historically.

Today, according to the most recent census, the population has grown to 2,223 mostly farmers and herders or people who commute to nearby towns and factories. However, many US expatriates and others have begun to establish Pozos as a center for art.

>>>>>

Now this story differs from the one we were told. Rather than the revolution ending the mining, we were told it was because of flooding because workers flooded the mines...as a result of an explosion between warring mining families. I haven't found any evidence to support this warring family thing, but it does seem that the mines did flood when an underground river was struck, thereby ending the little bit of mining that was left after the silver prices declined.

We were also told this was an outpost for banditos and other criminals during the time after the mass exodus. Again, I can find no evidence to support this, though it seems feasible. After all, what tourist industry would want to advertise that the residents of the town are all descendents of criminals?

>>>>>

Having said all of this, I can only say I love Pozos. I love its decaying sleepiness. The quiet lack of commerce. The abandoned ruins. The crumbling paint. The feeling of something forgotten and magical. The light. It's a beautiful, strange, and wonderful place. I can imagine myself doing work there. It's a place with no distractions. If I were to ever get a PhD (which I won't), this is where I'd go. Anyway, besides the ruins and the light and a lovely lunch, we were treated to a performance by a group who plays pre-colombian traditional music with hand-made instruments. it was amazing! what lovely people and what great music! it was a major highlight of the trip. it was inspiring to hear this music survive through so much turmoil and adapt to our current culture and still communicate so powerfully, so lovingly. it made me again think about the people who who are trying to end their culture by not sharing their languages. what if this group didn't make this music for us? it is true that we are tourists...outsiders. is it cheapening what they make? is our commercialism distancing them from the real purpose of their music? are we tainting them? can we truly understand all of the levels of meaning in these pieces? these are tough questions to consider. but without placing judgement on those who have chosen not to pass down language, i must say i am so grateful that this group was willing to share with us. they taught me much about culture, and have given me a great appreciation and a desire to gain more knowledge. and on a personal level, i walk away moved and with a great love of their work and the place.

As Candice said, Pozos rocks. And she knew I'd like it.

But how can you be an artist and not?