Anthony found this letter in a local parking lot.. I've been working for about a year on a visual love story based on Douglas County and this just got photographed and put in the group. This letter, a gesture, to make things right when they've gone so wrong. To call out to someone outside of our own lonely places in order to say, "I'm here. I'm okay. I've made mistakes." It's human. There's something so profoundly beautiful about this gesture. So full of grace and truthfulness. I find it so moving and it was this letter that turned the story about a place into a love story. not the usual kind of love story, which encompasses a beginning, a middle and an end. it's about being in flux. The story is about finding acceptance and ultimately finding ourselves and eachother all at once. We've always been told that we have to become somebody. To follow the path to success and to be secure. I think security comes from knowing who I am and that I'm not defined by my job or my social status. What if we were taught how to be really honest and compassionate while growing up? What if we didn't suppress and fear the very things that make us human? 

Here's the piece that was selected for the Beaverton Arts Commissions 29th annual art exhibit. a sneak peak.

This is the image that was selected to be in an Echo Park Gallery down in LA. Unfortunately, I won't be traveling down there for the opening. darn it! They don't let you know that they've picked your work to be in the show until two weeks prior and although its probably enough time to book a ticket, it's just not enough time to organize things here to leave in a way that feels good. I would like see it in person, but fortunately they post pics of their openings on fb, so I'm sure they'll post the pics for this show as well. 

on to making more work...

s

a self portrait reflection screenshot! 

“What if everything is on fire, all of the time and we just don’t see it?” -Larry Sultan

The language of photography has always intrigued me because of it’s inherent ability to record what’s there. A photograph isn’t just an index nor is it mere representation. It is an object, which occupies space in time. The photograph has the ability to become a part of anything and can develop into other things such as digital images, paintings, etc. Photography’s relationship to the world has changed as time has forwarded since its inception. There has been a paradigm shift and photography’s role is as important as ever in this changing cultural landscape. Kaja Silverman, author of “Flesh of My Flesh”, says that “the photograph is a special kind of analogy, the kind that our culture most needs. It helps us to see that difference does not automatically translate to opposition and that similarity is not sameness.” The camera can operate as an analogical device, which inherently unveils the relationships between things in the world around us. I believe that there is a kind of equalizing that happens when anything can be turned into a photograph; art, novels, garbage cans, people. This is a kind of consciousness, which is motioning toward undoing the binary structures in culture and going beyond ideas of difference or sameness. In spite of the fact that analogy has been discredited by some 19th century thinkers there are a number of other important figures, such as Ralph Waldo Emerson and Charles Baudelaire who think of it as a kind of “flesh” and, according to Kaja Silverman, “see this ontological kinship as the starting point for another kind of human ralationality.” She goes on to say, “A photograph and its “referent” have so many affinities that we are unable to separate them from each other, but also enough differences to keep us from conflating them.” In the image Burn, the logs on the right side and the kindling piled up to the left are both versions of the same thing. There is something complicit in this picture; the image is at peace with itself, yet there is a burning inner space, which is activated by the flames.  It is within this space where transformation is possible. Fire turns all that it touches into ashes. Everything is but of the same “flesh”. This correspondence, as Silverman states in her book, Flesh of my Flesh, “connects us both to ourselves and others, promoting transformation rather than stasis, equality rather than hierarchy, and an unfinished universality rather than a closed order.”

A new body of work is springing forward in my mind. I wish I could make the work as quickly as I'm thinking of it. At least then I'd be less likely to dismiss my own ideas. It's actually not a new body of work because I've been working on taking these images for quite some time now, however I wasn't quite awake to what I'm seeing in the images now. 

I think they should tell students in grad school that it's normal to have periods of time where we're not going to make work...we'll be observing, reading, living life and that is all part of the process of getting to the work in the first place. We're not meant to be machines. It just makes sense that after putting your life outside of school off for a period of time that you would need some time to readjust and learn a new way of being. I felt like I was running a marathon and just when I thought things should calm down and stabilize I suddenly found myself feeling as if I was under water, like Bill Murray in Rushmore. I was overwhelmed and afraid to commit. 

But here I am. Glad to be back home tonight after running back and forth to work trying to hash out a logo for a local business man near my home in rural Oregon. I'm hand painting signs, freelancing design work, teaching two groups of lovely people and maintaining a (hopefully)fruitful studio practice. I'm also lucky enough to have a lovely husband who has found a love of baking and a way to promote himself in the toughest of economic times.

It's the best of times.

 I'm more convinced than ever that we're constantly in flux and that there's really nothing more exciting than to be sure of at least this one thing. The day before yesterday I found an old journal while sitting in class with my students as they diligently worked through their lab time. A piece of paper was folded and stuffed within the book..on the paper there were some typed notes derived from a conversation I had during a studio visit with Larry Sultan a little less than a year before his death.  As I read through the notes my cheeks got flush and I felt a surge in my chest and my eyes felt hot. I was suddenly aware of my heartbeat and the wild place in there. I felt full of life and ideas and energy. My mind drifted to that moment in my studio and I was moved by the memory of the honesty and caring words of this man whose work I'd looked at and loved for many years before that conversation. As he made his rounds at the university, ushering in the next generation of artists, he spread his passion for what we all share and reminded me to pour myself and my love into the work.

In all honesty, I couldn't take it in at that time. Grad school was wreaking havoc on my soul and I was a deer in headlights most of the time while there. It's almost 2 years later and I'm just now able to really reflect on the many gifts I was given along the way.

The whole experience will take many years to develop in me, I hope, and I also hope to be surprised..like I was the other day when I found those notes.

i'm having a conversation with myself these days...trying to listen better to my "inner voice". It's hard to hear it when there's so much noise everywhere. I thought if I moved to the country my life would become more tranquil, more quiet, more peaceful. nope. All of the expectations I put on myself just got louder and more obnoxious. It's hard to hear my "voice inside" and to decifer exactly what it's saying to me. I've decided that it doesn't sound much like ordinary english words. It's much more interesting than that. I think it's a sensation or a force. Being available is key. Not without anything to do necessarily, but quiet enough inside and aware of the present moment, so that I'm available for anything that comes to me. open. 

the family!

(from lft to right; Jerod, Michelle, Michael, Geoff and baby Maxwell)

My sweet nephew Maxwell had his first birthday last weekend. I was super sad to leave this little guy who took his first steps during my visit. He's as sweet as can be and is just a big ball of love. So are my other nephews, Michael and Jerod. I'll post more pics soon from my visit to the Simi Valley.

I made a few more this week using some experimental palette's and patterns. I'm happy with how they turned out. You can order them on the shop page of the ohmygato farm site.

a little work I did for our farm blog banner. I think I'm in love with the idea..this one is a fairly quick study, but I think I'll be doing some more careful compositions of these. It really works with the concepts running through all of my other work. The question behind the work being: how did we begin to behold the image of the thing rather than the thing itself. It's another layer of removal from the traditional still life. Also, I don't have to wait for certain fruits or veggies to be in season because these images are at my finger tips year round. I enjoy that aspect of the piece. 

I'm making two market bags to order for my very first customer. It feels so good to have received the email and to whole heartedly handmake my very first order. Who wants to come to the farm and help me sew a bunch of these for this season's farmer's markets? I'm serious.  I'll also be hand printing some farm t-shirts to sell online and at the markets. I'll be collaborating with fellow artist, Renee Couture, on the printmaking adventure... I'm very excited about it, but I wonder where I'm going to find the time to do all of this.

I haven't read this book by rebecca solnit yet, but I plan on spending a little money on this treasure. Being from San Francisco and it being my home for most of my early adult years this book appeals to me on several levels. I'm planning on writing a book at some point about our farm and the place where we live, so this book is reference material and research for a future project. 

The idea of place..mapping a personal journey imbued by an invisible history. How has that history shaped our physical space and how do we admit the past as if we were there, to see something new to us?

I'm putting up a link to amazon on my ohmygato.com farm blog so if you want to buy this book, just click on that link and you can go straight to amazon to order it.

I just found this color negative from a batch of photos I'd taken early last year. It's starkness surprised me and I found myself searching my mind for the memory of the moment when I clicked my shutter... 

Just finished up the install today for our annual faculty show at UCC in Roseburg. It was fun setting up. It's always enlightening to work with other artists, talking with them about their work and having them comment on mine always lights a fire in my soul. Speaking of flames..this image is a new piece which has been in the works for some time. I got the idea earlier this winter while I was chopping wood for kindling. It took on a life of it's own. 

The printed version will be on it's way to a gallery in Vermont in just a few short days. 

I apologize to all, but one of the shows was cancelled last minute. As it turns out there are some technical difficulties with 'in one eye' in downtown Roseburg and there will be no show. 

I'm sad, but the work (pictured above and more) I've been making won't go to waste...I'll make sure to just put a little more work in the faculty show at UCC. I will hopefully be showing at 'in one eye gallery' in the future, but for now i'll be looking for a space to show in february. maybe a building for lease downtown or something. i'll keep you posted. 

sandee