Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

How To Write Well And Write Often (Part 2)


A few weeks back, I set out to create a blog post filled with some of my favorite pieces of writing advice, things I've learned from experts and through my own process working as a writer. I quickly realized, however, that I had far too much to say for one post, so I ominously titled it "How to Write Well And Write Often: PART ONE." If you have been holding your breath waiting for Part II, you are most certainly dead because I wrote that post three weeks ago. Whoops. 

But for those of my readers who are still alive and kicking, please enjoy these leftover bits of writing wisdom:

Take yourself on "artist dates"

This little nugget comes from Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, the same book that introduced me to the concept of morning pages (I wrote about those in Part One). While morning pages should be written every single day, artist dates should occur at least once weekly. Artist dates are outings that you take in order to engage your inner child. These should be solitary activities, i.e. don't bring your hubs or your kids or your fun coworker. Just spend time feeding your own artistic brain. This can be as involved as going to a museum across town or as simple as taking a walk in your neighborhood. Just commit to getting out there and having a new experience. It will refresh your mind and consistently provide new material for your writing. Plus, you can casually brag about all the hot dates you've been going on, and it will leave everyone intrigued and possibly concerned. 

Create short assignments*

This is a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do sort of situation. I'm straight up terrible at creating short assignments, but I want to get better. What I often do instead is I sit down at my desk with lofty dreams about the wonderful things I am going to write, and then when I inevitably do not succeed in completing the next great American novel, I sulk. I feel defeated, I pout, and I refuse to let myself enjoy anything for the rest of the day. This is the outcome of having unrealistic expectations, and if you're anything like me, then you know that this is a pretty discouraging feeling. Here's what you should do instead: expect less of yourself. Yeah, there, I said it. Ask yourself, "Self, what do I want to accomplish today?" and whatever your immediate answer is, cut it in half. Say you want to get two pages done. Screw that, change it to one page. Then write that one page, and then eat a cookie. Seriously, actually eat a cookie. Reward yourself and rejoice in the fact that you are in control of this process, that is, as long as you don't have an editor breathing down your neck (a terrifying feeling, by the way). Plus, think about it: if you stick to all of your short assignments, you are going to get a lot more done than if you waste time beating yourself up over the impossible goals you set. 

*This lesson, by the way, comes from Anne Lammott's Bird By Bird, which I already mentioned in Part One, and you know what, what the hell, just buy the damn book already. It really is worth it. 

If you think you can get rid of it, you probably can.

Maybe you've heard the expression, "Kill your darlings," which has been attributed to tons of famous authors, so I'm not even going to go down that rabbit hole. But anyway, "kill your darlings" means that all of those self-indulgent, mushy paragraphs with which you have fallen in love have got to go. For the good of your writing, you've got to get rid of stuff you adore. My rule for editing is that any word or sentence that has the faintest scent of "I could do without this" -- get rid of it. It hurts. It feels like a swift punch to the gut, but it makes a world of difference.

Write sober, edit sober.

Ernest Hemingway is quoted as saying "Write drunk; edit sober," but once again, tons of people believe this to be a misattribution, so whatever. Regardless, even though this wisdom is full of wit and spirit, in practice, I think it's pretty crappy advice. I've tried to write drunk before, and it usually results in Word Documents filled with gems like: "Night donuts are good. Donuts are good at nighttime." That, or I fall asleep before I can write a thing. In my opinion, write sober. Be present for the writing process. And if anything, edit drunk so that you'll be more likely to make rash decisions about what to get rid of.

"Write it down"

It sounds simple, but it's some of the best advice I've ever received. These three words are frequently spoken to me by my dear friend, Patrick. Any time I say something funny or share a somewhat interesting thought, he laughs and says, "Write it down." His reason for doing so is because, well, he knows me. He knows that my memory is basically a drunk toddler. I can't depend on it for anything. So often in life, I'll have a thought that I want to remember, then I will turn to look at a bird eating a cigarette, and by the time I collect myself, I've already forgotten what I wanted to store in my brain. That's why it is essential for me to write things down. Everything. Every tiny, seemingly insignificant glimmer of an idea goes into a notebook or the notes app on my phone or onto the sweaty palm of my hand. For me, most of the writing process happens when I'm not even writing at all, but rather when I'm out experiencing the world (on the train, in conversations, on my artist dates, etc.) That's why I dedicate myself to being a compulsive collector of every bizarre thing the world throws at me. Otherwise, I assure you, I would have legitimately nothing to write about. 

What is your best piece of writing advice?

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

In search of a work of art

Via ebay

I am in search of an oil painting featuring a lady looking demure and bold and just absolutely awesome. Do you have one to spare?

Allow me to explain...

Recently, while zoning out on Instagram, I stumbled upon a brilliant collaboration between the incomparable Jen Gotch (founder & creator of ban.do) and the good people at Chairish. They were hosting a live auction of some phenomenal vintage finds, including a strawberry cookie jar, a giant lighter, and the most delightful goat-shaped bottle opener I've ever seen. 

Now, I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm a sucker for vintage paraphernalia. If I were to describe my perfect day, a huge part of it would include rummaging through old bottles, postcards, and stale-smelling clothing at a well-curated antique shop. It's something I do a lot. A lot, a lot. 

So naturally, a virtual vintage experience on Instagram was intriguing to me. The way it worked was that they would post a picture of an item, and the first person to comment with #sold got dibs. Obviously, everything was moving wildly fast, so I had the hashtag copied and ready to paste just in case I fell in love with something. And, friends, I did.

Via Instagram @chairishco
That's Jen Gotch (with RYAN GOSLING LEGGINGS OHMYGODWHAT CAN I HAVE THEM) holding the artwork of my dreams. When this picture went up, my brain exploded. I fell in love with the woman in this painting. Her white hair, her confident smirk, her ambiguous nakedness -- she just seemed perfect to me. I hesitated for a second, though, because the price seemed a little steep ($158), and in that wretched moment, someone with better decision-making skills commented and stole her from me. Not to be dramatic, but my world basically crumbled. 

Ever since this exquisite sighting, I've been on the hunt for something similar. I can't really explain it. Something about seeing this picture just flipped a switch in me. I am now fixated on finding an oil portrait of a woman who exudes her same level of strength, confidence, and unabashed femininity. I guess I want her to be my spirit animal. I want to hang her in my office and look up at her for inspiration while I'm working. And I want to name her. Maybe something like Delores. Then when a friend comes to visit me, I want to say something like, "Have you met Delores?" and then I'll laugh and laugh with a strange twinkle in my eyes. And as my friend starts to slowly back away from this scene, I want to continue laughing, more maniacally than ever, until they finally exit. And then it's just me and Dolores again, and I give her a bit of a wink, and I keep on working.

I don't know, I haven't thought everything through. But here's what I've come up with so far by googling woman + oil + portrait (by the way, if you plan on searching those same terms, you are going to see a TON of boobs. Of all shapes a sizes. You have been warned.):

Via ebay
Via etsy
Via etsy
Via etsy
Via etsy
Via etsy

To be clear, I'd be happy to hang any of these portraits up in my office and call them Delores. Maybe I'll curate a collection over time. Again, I haven't thought it through.

Anyway...

Have you ever been on an obsessive hunt for a particular item?
Tell me about it so I won't feel crazy!

Also, P.S. If you buy any of these portraits out from under me, I guess that's your prerogative. But if it's on ebay, just know that I'm willing to engage in a pretty intense bidding war. So...yeah.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Reclaiming the joy of art class



Remember art class? That sacred time of day during your elementary school existence wherein you got to hang out with your coolest teacher. Remember her/him? My art teacher was named Miss Blum, and she was always wearing a vest. Yours probably was too. And remember how this very cool teacher would lead you and all of your peers in an art project? And she/he would walk around the room inspecting everyone's work, and there was literally nothing you could do wrong. You could paper mache your text book to your face, and your art teacher would say, "What ingenuity!" You could draw the most lifelike, defiant penis on the face of the earth, and she would remark, "Oh, what a strangely beautiful mushroom!"

It was the most affirming time of your life. Admit it.

Recently I've been getting nostalgic for the joy of art class. Rare is the time in my life when I engross myself in an art project because I am not, by trade, an artist. That is, I am not a painter, a sculptor, a calligrapher, an Etsy store owner, or anything of that sort. Sometimes life calls upon me to make certain things -- a card for a friend, a pie chart of my expenses, a tent for my cat to retreat within -- but when there is no reason to create a work of art, I feel pretty silly doing so.

But tonight, in a fit of boredom, I decided to buck that negative feeling and just afford myself some creativity time. I channeled Miss Blum and just started creating for the sake of creating. My husband, Daniel, joined in too. I played with a set of pastels that I've been meaning to try out while he doodled in a notebook. Here he is showing off his drawing of a dog:

Nailed it, Daniel! 

This is what I ended up creating using the pastels. I had the wrong tools, and I couldn't remember what carrot leaves looked like, so no judgements!

That's grapes, a carrot, a banana, and a lime, respectively

Midway through, we decided it would be a good idea to make art specifically for each other. Daniel made this for me because, you know, he's a creative GENIUS:


And I made him this because, you know, it's true:



We will probably make a weekly thing out of this, so get excited. Miss Blum would be so proud.

What crafts/art projects have you been making lately? 
Tell me so I can steal all of your ideas!

Friday, September 12, 2014

5 Things to Look Forward To

The weekend is drawing nigh, so I'm feeling a little optimistic, but hey maybe you're not. Sometimes it helps to think about all of the wonderful things in life that are coming your way. If you're struggling with that today, let me help!


1. Gilmore Girls is coming to Netflix!


You might as well put in your letter of resignation now because you're not going to have time or need for petty things like work once October rolls around. No way. You're going to be way too busy devouring EVERY SINGLE EPISODE OF GILMORE GIRLS FROM THE COMFORT OF YOUR OWN NETFLIX ACCOUNT.

Man, this show, guys. It is so smart, so funny, so good, so full of cultural references and wisdom. I, like you, have every single season on DVD, but season 3 has some major scratches on it and seriously, who needs the pain of removing a DVD when you're binge-watching the greatest piece of television in history? Mark your calendars, folks. October 1st: the day Netflix will explode.

Also, #TeamJess, just saying.

2. Autumn Leaves


It may not be time to take a stroll through Central Park with your pumpkin spice whatever just yet, but it will be very soon. The leaves are still a wilted green from where I sit, but when they finally change, don't be too jaded to enjoy them. They are magic.

3. The iPhone 6 comes out or whatever

Via bestbuy.com
I'm not overwhelmingly excited about this, but I know it's important, and maybe it's important to you, so there you go. September 19th, getcha some new tech, SON!

4. Cat Video Festival

Via thefirstannual.com
This is FAR more important than that last thing I mentioned. On October 5th, the Galapagos Art Space in DUMBO will be hosting the The First (and Probably Last!) Annual New York Feline Film & Video Festival for Humans! I mean, are you kidding? How are we just now organizing a festival around feline features (alliteration!)? It seems like this should have been happening biweekly ever since Grumpy Cat rose to prominence.

For non-New York dwellers, this festival is going down in other places as well (Houston, Austin, Boston to name a few), and they are also taking submissions! Your cat could be famous!

5. Get Back Up

amazing design by Tim Bauer

Oh my, would you look at that! You're not going to have too wait too long for this one, because folks, this is happening TONIGHT! If you're in or near New York, come check out this artist showcase put on to celebrate the new fall season and raise money for City Harvest. There's going to be music & storytelling as well as beer & happiness. I'm going to be telling a story, so if you've ever wondered if I'm a real person and not just a blogger robot, tonight's your chance to find out (spoiler alert: I'm a robot, but I am capable of love)!

417 W 57th Street - 8:00 PM - $10 suggested donation (again, all proceeds go to City Harvest). If you aren't blessed to be in the greatest city in the world, share this event with someone who is. Check out the event page for more details!


So these are the things I'm looking forward to. How about you?

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Christy's New Things To Love In NYC: The Sketchbook Project

Today marks the beginning of this series in which I share some of my new favorite finds in NYC. Enjoy!
While walking to Egg in Williamsburg, one of my favorite brunch spots in Brooklyn, I always pass this trendy storefront with the words "The Sketchbook Project" etched on the door. I have always been curious about what is happening inside this little brick-and-mortar shop, but usually by the time I stick a fork into my eggs rothko, I've somehow completely forgotten about my curiosity.

It kept happening over and over again (because let's face it, I love me some eggs rothko) until one day I decided to bypass brunch entirely and head straight over to the little shop with walls lined with colorful sketchbooks.

And, guys, I'm so glad I did.



It turns out that this little spot which I kept passing time-after-time in my lust for brunch is actually one of my new favorite places in the city. The Sketchbook Project is like the guy in every John Hughes movie who was there the whole time but just hadn't been given the time of day.

You can head on over to the website to see a more official description for how this place operates, but essentially, it's a library comprised of, you guessed it, sketchbooks. Over 30,000 of these precious books have been donated to the project from artists all over the world, and the result is a breathtaking room filled wall-to-wall with artistic genius.


When we walked in, I was ready to tear this place up. I imagined myself picking out all of the sketchbooks with the prettiest bindings and just hoarding them to myself for a few hours. As you can imagine, that would have been insanity.

No no, folks, there is a system, as well there should be. The first thing you do upon entering the Brooklyn Art Library (the flagship location for The Sketchbook Project) is get yourself a library card. You then head to a computer in the back, scan your card, and magic happens. You are presented with a list of categories by which you can request your sketchbooks. Within a drop of a hat, a helpful employee (or volunteer? I'm not sure) is at your side with two books -- one from the selection you have chosen and another entirely random one.

For example, the theme I selected was "In 5 minutes..." and I was brought two books, actually both from that same theme. At the start, I was entirely unsure of what to expect. I thought maybe I'd just skim through books of quick sketches from, yes, talented people, but I was fully unprepared for the level of artistry I was about to encounter.

Artist: Lady Orlando, Mexico, In 5 minutes...
Artist: Lady Orlando, Mexico, In 5 minutes...

Artist: Lady Orlando, Mexico, In 5 minutes...

Watercolor, pop-up pages, poetry, mixed media -- these books were so much more than I ever could have imagined. They were like small art galleries unto themselves.

Artist: Maria do ceu diel Oliveira, Brazil, In 5 minutes...

Artist: Maria do ceu diel Oliveira, Brazil, In 5 minutes...

We sat there for an hour, requesting more and more books, sitting at a long table in total amazement of what existed in these pages.



There was such an intimacy to opening them. Carefully, I'd turn each page, with full reverence for how precious their contents were. It was as though I had received the sweetest invitation to read the diary of someone I had always wanted to know better. Every picture, every poem, every pencil stroke was privileged information that I received joyfully.

Georgianna Kreiger, California, Superheroes in everyday clothes

I was particularly excited when I stumbled upon a short note written to me from a young artist named Clara at the start of her sketchbook.

Clara Herzog, Cambridge, United Kingdom, Uncharted waters

She was fifteen-years-old, and she was good.

Clara Herzog, Cambridge, United Kingdom, Uncharted waters

Clara Herzog, Cambridge, United Kingdom, Uncharted waters

Clara Herzog, Cambridge, United Kingdom, Uncharted waters

The Sketchbook Project is a reminder that true art isn't limited to ornate fixtures in world-renowned museums. Instead, art can be sandwiched tightly in a Moleskine notebook, maybe the very one sitting in your messenger bag at this exact moment. The true artistry comes in the invitation, in welcoming someone else to step into your private pages and know you through them.

Marta Vivanco, Madrid, Spain, Uncharted waters

Marta Vivanco, Madrid, Spain, Uncharted waters

If you want to visit The Brooklyn Art Library, head on over to Williamsburg (103A North 3rd St). For those of you who aren't in or around New York City, don't feel left out! The Sketchbook Project has a mobile library that tours nationwide. It may be making a stop in your town. You can also peruse their digital library RIGHT FREAKING NOW! And if you're reading this post and you're thinking, "Hey! I'm artist! I should have a sketchbook in this library!" then you should consider contributing your work to the project. I know I'd love to see it.

I was going to end this post with a page from my sketchbook, but unfortunately it's mostly just grocery lists and standup notes at this point, so I'm not sure it's much to look at. What would I find if I looked in your sketchbook?

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Siri is My Nemesis

This is one of those "I haven't written in so long" type of entries. It's going to be slightly void of words because after a month-long hiatus, I am hardly ready to start writing the next great American novel (that will be my next entry). Plus, I just got an iPhone, went on a trip, and got the Instagram app all in the same week. Who needs words?

I used the Instagram filter "Toaster" - arguably the most pretentious
This is a picture of my new iPhone. It's an early birthday present from my parents. I'm unreal excited about it. This is probably old news for everyone else, but for me, this is huge. A week ago, I had this terrible LG number that literally smelled like burning flesh when I charged it and is probably the preferred cellphone of Moses (get it?...cause he's old...and dead...and biblical...you know...and like...burning bush..............beard....). Now, I have this gorgeous, all-knowing device at my fingertips at all times of the day. I am never going to take it for granted. 

There is a function of the iPhone 4S that is pretty cool, but also super mean. It's called Siri. It's basically this lady who lives in your phone who hates you. Let me explain. Wait no. That's the best explanation. 

Basically you ask her things with your voice. You could say "Hey Siri, what is the weather like outside?" and she'll tell you the weather, or you could be like "Hey Siri, where can I find a cupcake shop within walking distance?" and she gives you a list of cupcake establishments. Basically, she is supposed to deliver on your commands (this video will probably explain it better than I can. I'm really tired). When I first heard about her, I thought it might be the closest I would ever get to having a genie. 

But Siri will not be ordered around. No sir. For example, just a minute ago I asked her if she would make me pancakes and she was all "no". Typical Siri. Too high and mighty to make anyone else pancakes. Fun fact: when I asked Siri to make me pancakes, Daniel was in the living room, unaware of why I was asking this, and he responded "now?"...Love him. If Apple replaced Siri with Daniel, it would be a win-win.

Then Siri and I had a conversation that went like this:

Me: Who am I?
Siri: You're Christy, aren't you?
Me: I want you to call me pickle pants.
Siri: OK, from now on I will call you "people pans", OK?
Me: No.
Siri: OK.
Me: Call me pickle pants.
Siri: There are 25 stores that match "pickle". You may want to call them.
Me: That does me no good.
Siri: Christy, I don't really like these arbitrary categories.
Me: Do you hate me?
Siri: That may be possible. 

So I've got this mean lady living in my phone who hates me and uses my name only to emphasize her annoyance. Siri makes me miss Smarter Child AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING.

I'm not going to let her spoil my iPhone experience though (that's probably what she wants). This thing is still opening all kinds of doors for me.

Yearning
This is the first picture I ever instagramed (is that a thing? How should I say it? Look. Just let me be me). Instagram, by the way, for those who don't know, is a hip app you can get that makes all of your photos look like they've been aging in a box in your prone-to-flooding basement for the past 20 years. 

Anyway, the picture above is a lantern on my desk in my apartment, but I've titled it "yearning" because I like to think that the lantern is longing for it's freedom. Thoughts? Should I enter this in photo festivals? Just kidding. I'm not doing this for the fame. 

Wait. Should I be doing this for the fame?

I'm also playing Angry Birds and I am finally understanding the things people were talking about in 2010. Pigs, man. They are the worst. Their defense system is completely penetrable, but often not on the first try. (I just realized my mom might not understand a lot of what I've written in this entry. Sorry, Mom.) 

Anyway, back to Instagram. This past weekend, Daniel and I went on a mini-vacation to Fort Worth. I instagramed every picture we took so that it looks like we actually took the trip in the 1970s. You're welcome.

Dan driving. The year is 1977. Jimmy Carter has just been elected president.


Vanity Shot #1. Don't worry. Plenty more to come.


We stopped in Waco on the way. I cried a little. It was a little strange.


We stopped at the Czech Stop in West, Texas. I got this evil bear. Don't worry. He can't harm your children. I ate him.


Vanity Shot #2. This helps assure me that I must look like this all the time. 


Delicious food. Circa 1977.

More delicious food.


Trippy lights. Like we're at some disco...like it's 1977.


Daniel eating a burger at In-N-Out. He ordered off the secret menu like he's better than me or something.


This is when I noticed that the camera on the front of my iPhone flips the image. My bangs go the other way. 


Daniel standing in front of some fancy art.


My most pretentious instagram yet.


I'll leave it at that. If you want to see more pictures from our trip, you are probably my Facebook friend and you've probably already looked at them, so I probably should delete this sentence.

In summary: 

1. I like my new iPhone.
2. If I am mysteriously murdered, interrogate Siri.
3. Instagram is kind of dumb and I hate myself for loving it.
4. Pigs and birds will never be peaceful. You're living a lie if you think that sort of thing is possible. 
5. Fort Worth is a great little town. We'll be back. 
6. I used way more words than I thought I would in this post. 



Popular Posts