Every year I do the Sketchbook Project offered by the Art House Co-Op in Brooklyn, NY. And every year I don’t send a damn thing in. Well, last year I did. I think. It’s just that I get so excited about it and then completely drop the ball because of a variety of factors: fear, fear of being judged, fear of…being judged. And fear. Of being judged.
It (me) = Total Wuss.
I think that’s what it is. Plus, I feel like I have absolutely zilch to offer. Who wants to see drawings of dismembered humans whispering secrets to other, naked, humans surrounded by red ribbons? No one, that’s who. I haven’t drawn that yet, but it’s in the works.
Until then, here is an in-progress picture (self-portrait type thing) of me whispering to me.
From November 1st to November 3rd Raleigh’s convention center hosted the World of Art Showcase, sponsored by our favorite art store, Jerry’s Artarama. In trying to think of how to describe the event, all I can hear in my head is “Wow”. That’s about all I’ve been able to express about it during and after. It was so awesome that it turned me stupid.
I was initially excited to go, then I hit a couple weeks where my insecurities about my own art and my own life made me rethink my excitement and ask myself “Why even bother?”. I told Jer, the husband, that I didn’t buy tickets (that I had intended to buy weeks prior) and after a few days’ worth of conversation and his pushing, I bought the tickets and we went.
As you may know from previous posts, he doesn’t consider himself an “art guy”. Frankly, the art world freaks him out so much so that he thinks of the “art world” as an actual parallel universe that exists in quotations where he would be an alien lost in a group of artists that wear scarves year round, speak only in color, and eat with palette knives. I’m assuming this is what goes through his head, anyway, as any mention of him being around people that do art causes his eyes to widen and his pulse becomes clearly visible in his temples. Over the course of those 3 days, however, he learned that these people are humans who not only do art, but they also like pizza, action figures, and enjoy dropping f-bombs when appropriate. This was good for him.
It was great for me, too. I was exposed to work that I don’t think I ever would have otherwise been exposed to if not for this event. And as you may know from my history, there are still days where I feel like opening my front door will bring about death and destruction for all of mankind, however I did make it out of the front door, drove all the way into the city for those 3 days, and I talked to people. ‘Sup. I kind of feel like I deserve to shout-whisper a “Fuck yeah!” and perhaps shoot my fist into the air. Only a few times did I have issues with dissociation, so that was pretty sweet too. Yeah therapy! WOO!
Within the next couple of days I’m going to get my photos together (I didn’t take nearly enough and am disappointed with myself about that) and get them on here. Until then, here’s some pizza (it was yum).