My jumping off point … Something for Nothing.
My wallet, jean pockets, notebooks, nightstand, jewelry box, and purses. They are stuffed with torn bits of paper reflecting momentary inspirations of book titles and short stories that I will likely never write. Jotting these down spark something in me and have meaning well beyond the blank pages that will stay bright white. Nestled next to coupons, old receipts, spare change, business cards, baby wipes, and newspaper clippings, are for me fleeting, yet glorious moments of inspiration. They suggest endless potential. Like objects, these scribbled titles are heavy with meaning and breathe constantly. I remember distinctly the time and the place of each one since high school.
Phrases like these pop into my head at random and are my own little inside jokes. They are placeholders for sprawling family dramas, witty reminiscences, art world angst, adolescent memoirs, and sociological outtakes. They will be made into feature films, the designer dress, the victory speech, the Oscar on the mantle. The limitless possibilities of never doing it, this Something for Nothing, provides me with boundless beginnings and endings -- and most certainly -- some crazy fantasies. This beguiling nature of promise, the big idea, and the moment of creation is what gets things churning. Perhaps this hoarding isn’t healthy anymore.
So in this new arena, I will weave these treasures into a journal of my life as I continue to lovingly navigate the art world. Heavy on art, but not slim on the other stuff, I appreciate you letting me share.
Till later...be sure you love what you look at.