The Artist at Play
I opened my personal art studio as part of a 2-town-wide tour
“You go on ahead!” I jumped out of the bright blue jeep two feet at once, feeling my boots sink into the soft earth outside of the warehouse-turned-art-studio called Mothership. Fields of grazing cows surrounded us, their picture sinking into the blurry, darkening vignette of evening. Music and laughter spun their way through the tunnels of my ear drums. I bumped the car door shut with my booty and looked up, smiling as I watched my lover Alan’s green and white trucker hat bop along beside his father David’s long, grey ponytail as they made their way inside.
They quickly disappeared into the whirling sounds and colors of the event, the hubbub of a lively, artsy party kicking off Friday night and joyously wrapping them up into the belly of the beast for a quick melding of vibes.
Relief that they did indeed go on ahead flooded my nostrils as I took a breath and let the now-no-longer concern over our evening’s time management re-colored the moment. I inhaled their trust in me with the matriarchy of the family. Turning to my left, I slid my petite arm under the even smaller arm of David’s wife, Carolyn. We locked eyes and let them crinkle in joy for each other.
With concern about Carolyn feeling and being safe in the hustle-bustle before us, I employed a technique I learned decades ago in Girl Scouts to lead the blind (or blindfolded). Sandwiching her hand between both of my own, I lifted her forearm with mine while cradling her right elbow in the bow of my left elbow.
“Alright! Let’s go!”
The art studio tour’s gallery opening night was eclectic in all the right ways. My acrylic painting on panel was in unique company. Colorful fiber sculptures, large abstract paintings, smaller impressions, collages, miniature installations fit for the kookiest of dolls, wooden ornaments, a hanging mobile.
Gosh, I love a fun mobile. In fact, it doesn’t even need to be that fun for me to love it. The pure play that a mobile engages with the physical world delights me.
We spent a moment taking in a considerably sized black and white photo of a considerably sized woman laid out on a velvet couch, wrapped in the texture of tulle. I adore the juxtaposition of different textures… the shine of taut, velvet lounging furniture kissing the meaty folds of a person in conversation with the crinkling edges of a taffeta skirt…
Mmm. Texture, texture, texture. My eyes licked them up like left-over salt on after-dinner fingers.
*chef’s kiss*
As we perused the space, people, and art, we ran into our fellers making their way out. Faces bright with energy, they scooted off to Ray Wylie Hubbard’s show at Gruene Hall, Texas’s oldest honky tonk. How blessed! To be able to share with them this event of mine! Coming all the way from Dallas to visit us for the show in Gruene, the timing had gotten a bit funky. Being able to squish it all in was a great success.
Carolyn and I took a quick look-see at everything in the exhibit before calling an Uber to my and Alan’s home. I loved that she asked if she could touch so many things. Art that inspires a desire for a tactile experience is indisputably interesting.
When something we see with our eyes so immediately beckons our fingers… and when someone is so rife with life that they try to go for it…
How tasty and special.
*chef’s kiss*
The gallery opening night pre-ceded the next two days of the 50 involved artist’s studios across San Marcos and Martindale being open to the public, including my own. Before we opened our intimate artistic places to the curious and courageous tour attendees, we gathered for a bit of breakfast in the Mothership Studios gallery.
I was able to sneak off for a bit on Sunday to see some other artists’ studios, leaving mine in the hands of the fam.
But before I scooted off to explore my neighbors’ spaces, I welcomed many visitors into my own.
We’ve been in Texas for seven months now, and for the last two of them I’ve been diving into a new evolution of a series I initially exhibited four years ago with Painted Brain in Los Angeles.
With all this new space of mine, I am able to get so messy and leave things out to dry for ages. AND I don’t have to sleep in the same space where I paint! As such, I need not worry about breathing in fumes night and day. The freedom!
Piling up layers and layers of paint, I am finding such presence with the process.
Playing with physics, namely gravity and time, I hone in on a sought after focus with the medium that reveals new ways to involve the colors and sheens so that the shapes they embody bring out something intrinsically eye-catching in each other.
I love noticing the different pieces different people point out their affection for. Very rarely are my favorites from any series’ I’ve done anyone else’s. For example, this particular piece, “Cracked Candy,” which I’ve showcased above, has become the cornerstone of this body of work, to me. To me, it is currently the exemplary product of my current process. It seems no one else has been quite as affected by it as I am, or how they are by other works within this series or others I had out. How funny.
The audience has so much authorship, and I love to let them have it.
*chef’s kiss*
Next week, I’ll be diving deeper into this body of work and discussing how it relates to performance and the tenets of clown. We’ll also be examining the photos that Alan caught of some visitors on Sunday and how both of us incorporate color and play into our creative constructions, together and separately.
Have a wonderful weekend, my dearest dears!
A hui ho,
Julia Fae
I like that one from the gallery that looks like sail boats and/or gnomes.
I love all this sooooo much!!!! From your writing to your art to the fact that you have your own studio! Its just stupendous! Josh has his own little studio at Lana Lane which is the Pow Wow hawaii HQ. You will need to have an art date with him when you visit!!!