mid term slump

My friend Ellen from the book exchange laid down this gauntlet of post-a-day for the month of December and I'm not sure why I took it up. (I'll bet you're wondering as well.) What is my fascination with these one-a-day challenges? In my real life--as opposed to my completely-made-up-in-my-head life -- pretty much the only things I do every day are the things that support metabolism. But every time one of these notions wanders across my sight line I think: "that sounds like fun. maybe I'll try it." And so here I am, up well past midnight during the work week casting about for something to say. And not doing very well.

If I were to take the tagger's "7 fun facts" and spread it over a week, I could begin with: I write, and send, fan letters. Not often, but every now and again. I never expect any kind of reply, although I did once get back an actual letter -- typed on a typewriter that had clearly seen hard use, and signed by hand -- from Eileen Atkins. But collecting is not the point. I enjoy articulating what I appreciate about someone else's contribution to the world, and I send them off with the old-fashioned notion that it's always nice to hear nice things about yourself from strangers. Whether the letters actually find their way to the intended recipient is also not the point, I like the feeling of contributing to well-being. Some of the letters are to everyday folks, others are to famous people. For example, I've sent 2 notes of appreciation to police officers in the local precinct, and I wrote to the now-retired Yankees pitcher Mike Mussina because I was so impressed with the elegance and artistry he brought to his work. This intermittent practice grew out of a New Year's resolution to focus on and acknowledge positive things. New Year's being a good time for reflecting and amending.


[image from http://www.levenger.com/ -- where this handy little pen-holding brownie is For Sale.]

simple minded

August has been a bit tumultuous. My computer picked up a virus that required an 8-day layover with the geeks. I'm not sure it's completely well but I have it back and I'm going to go bravely on until I have a reason not to. And the second-floor bathroom sprang a leak which resulted in having the first-floor bathroom was stripped to the studs and spending several evenings with bleach in a spray bottle assaulting mold -- banks of fluffy, surprisingly pretty, green mold that looked rather like jade, but that had to go, nonetheless.

And all the while, I was working on an almost completely white panel that I started in Vermont at the beginning of the month and decided to send for consideration by the Quilt National '09 folks. Once they turn it down, I'll post pictures. (All three judges show a deep affection for the hot end of the spectrum in their own work, so I expect that, like Ishmael in Moby Dick, they'll react along the lines of "it was the whiteness of the whale that appalled me.")

All of which is a bit of prelude to a question my friend Jane asked, prompted, I think, by all that whiteness: Do you think simple is harder? In the moment I thought "yes" -- mostly because of how difficult it is to write simply -- but now that I think about it, in terms of visual art, No. I don't think simple is harder. At one level I think it's all hard, but the art I'm generally attracted to and the art I've started to make is relatively simple: few components, extremely limited color, small format (usually), formal composition. Such austerity demands precision in the elements, but it's what I like and how I see things, so it's easier for me to swoop a couple of red lines across a white field and call it a day. I find it much harder to try to do the kind of richly textured and highly colored work that my friend Denise does so well. I admire her work greatly and I do wish I could do "that kind of thing" but it just doesn't come out of my fingers gracefully and I get paralyzed with anxiety. There is some anxiety in working out precisely where and how those red lines cross that white field, but I have more confidence that "it will come" when I'm working sparely.

What do you think? As a viewer and/or as a creator, is simple harder? How so?
There's also a more than even chance that I misunderstood the question...