So, remember that movie, In the Realms of the Unreal Morgyn told you to watch a few years ago (which you did and loved it) about the recluse janitor in Chicago, Henry Darger, who wrote and illustrated well, here, just read this…
Henry Joseph Darger was a reclusive American writer and artist who worked as a janitor in Chicago, Illinois. He has become famous for his posthumously discovered 15,145-page, single-spaced fantasy manuscript called The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinnian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion, along with several hundred drawings and watercolor paintings illustrating the story. Darger’s work has become one of the most celebrated examples of outsider art.
This guy diligently spent pretty much his whole life writing his books along with hundreds of watercolor paintings because obviously: he had to.
In 1968, Darger became interested in tracing some of his frustrations back to his childhood. It was in this year that he wrote The History of My Life, a book that spends 206 pages detailing his early life before veering off into 4,672 pages of fiction about a huge twister called “Sweetie Pie,” probably based on memories of the tornado he had witnessed in 1908. He also kept a diary to chronicle the weather and his daily activities.
4,672 pages about a tornado!
He was just an ordinary guy who, against lots of odds, made his art and wrote his stories, with from what I remember, no formal training whatsoever.
And let’s please re-read the awesome blog entry your friend Tiffany sent your way the other day from finslippy.com.
And the little movie that was attached to the blog entry that lots of folks should watch. It really is enlightening how he analyzes his own work at the end of the clip. And his honesty in the whole thing is really very reassuring in (mind you) a bummer sort of way, but hey, that’s truth if you dare to accept it.
Now.
So.
Really, there is no reason for you to stop making your items. Or feel as if you should stop working on them. In fact, it is clear you need to make MORE. Not less. In mass quantities. And at alarming rates.
The clan upstairs would have you believe otherwise, but we all know they are impostors that are jealous. Admittedly they showed up unannounced, uninvited today, and didn’t even bring snacks or drinks with them, all the while bossing you around and telling you, you are no good. They have shitty taste in art, music, food and drink (let me remind you again, none of which they brought with them) – so kick them out.
This is a piece I have been working on since May. I am calling it “Blocking The Pain”. Yes, I’m clever.
It is my first experiment in what would be officially classified as sculpture (I guess) but I still am having trouble with that, because as I see it, it is collage/acrylic on wood blocks. But if it ever graces the inside walls of a gallery, I know it will have to be put on one of these so people can look at all the sides, and that means it is sculpture.
I only have the top and this side completed as you can see.
But I am working on the other side (and of course the ends-but they are only in the idea stage) It is quite challenging thinking of all angles as opposed to only 2-D. And photographing these or this (because it is technically one “piece”) is going to be a challenge for me (as you can see)
And like always, my studio is a mess. I work in chaos, but its the only way the work gets done. I have tried being nice and orderly while working but it doesn’t work.
Today on my stroll I was struck by the brilliant color across the land. Perhaps the humidity is low, maybe its always like this, maybe I was slipped some shrooms, I don’t know, but all colors were shockingly vibrant and I had to take some pictures of it.
I think the people driving by thought I was “simple”, while I was looking at this dumpster, then later taking pictures of it, but I think it is hard to argue about how crazy colorful it all is. You have the blue sky, the bright green trees and then this pristine red dumpster. Never mind the little yellow flowers that were hiding in amongst everything.
I am stocking up on these sights now before winter and its gray blanket comes to cover us.
My Mom used to play this when I was younger and you could hear it outside while I played with my friends in the front-yard. And it was quite awesome to hear when I would ride my bike up the sidewalk on a warm summer evening. This was one of my favorites. I liked how dark, desperate and angry it sounded. The intensity was often overwhelming for me. Especially watching and listening my mother perform it. I always tried to be quiet when I came in the front door while she was playing this because I didn’t want to disrupt her, but I also wanted to see her play it. Sometimes I would cry walking down the hallway and yet had no idea why. I’m not sure she ever knew, but since she reads this, she does now. I think after you listen to the sample it may make more sense. Or not, and I was just loosely glued together all the while.
1-Do not sing and act out the song you are singing while doing your collage, razor blade in hand. No, everything is fine here and nobody had an accident, but I realized what I was doing and decided that there was no possible way I could show up at the emergency room with a reasonable explanation for something that would probably need stitches, so I abruptly stopped it.
Dr: Now….you were doing what again? C: I was singing to ABBA. And painting and doing my collage at the same time.
(pause)
(crickets)
(blinking)
C: I’m in a band…uh…too…. Dr: OH! Do you sing ABBA in it? C: No. We sing all originals. That nobody knows.Or cares about. All they want to hear is Free Bird and something by the Eagles.
2-I’ll be “singing” tonight again at The High Noon Saloon, and I’m not sure how its gonna go because I have a stuffed up nose that I suspect was brought on by something dying in the air. As I get a little older, I suspect I may have allergies. My friend’s birthday is tomorrow and it was requested that me singing “Our Lips Are Sealed” would make this person’s birthday happy and complete. I suggested chocolate cake and paying for dinner, but it was insisted this is what they wanted. I’m quite flattered but also quite confused.
