lovely

A Fluffy Teddy Bear, Beck and the Seaside.

| Betsy




No, this has absolutely NOTHING* to do with craft, activism or craftivism. It’s a little tale about a teddy bear, the seaside, Brighton, love and hope.

Lately every time I turn on the news I feel like this video. Which is pretty much summed up as “WTF. Seriously?” There’s too much sorrow, fear, death, blood, strife, anger, hatred, ego. It’s making me wish there was more front page coverage of Justin Bieber’s haircut or more pissy First World anger over TSA scans.

But, like the fluffy teddy bear in the last scene, I do what needs doing and carry on… hopeful, moving forward and when I’m lucky, I do so extra warm and cuddly-like.

And to the best that I can, I take that warmth and those cuddly notions out into the world around me, in the face of so much tragedy, a smile here, a hug there, a thank you. And so often it feels like so very little. And like the bear, I’m still raw, vulnerable and scared, but nonetheless, we carry on. In hope, in love, in peace.

May you carry on, too.

xx



More Misery Bear here.

*Ok, not NOTHING. It’s a very well-crafted video by the people over at Roughcut Presents and Worm Hotel. That’s adorable. And features a teddy bear running down a beach. Yes!

Barbara Koenen’s War Rugs Made of Spice

| Betsy

I love how despite seeing thousands upon thousands of images every day, there are still some that cause us to stop, stare and digest. That’s what happened when I came across the piece about the work of Barbara Koenen via a link from The Examiner, which recently had a fantastic interview with Koenen about her work.

From the interview:

DG: How did you come up with the idea of combining the concept of Afghani war rugs with that of sand mandalas?

BK: I was already doing transitory work, as paintings, installations and actions using materials that would deterioriate or be swept away. But when 9/11 happened, I thought about the war rugs and it just made sense as a practice that could begin to respond to the horror of the attack, and bring in some historical context about why it might have happened. The war rugs were a response to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in the 1970s. America backed the resistance fighters, supplying weapons and making promises of other support. But the US pulled out after the Soviets left, and the Taliban took over and turned the country into a despotic place. So our betrayal was in some ways responsible for the later attack. It is important for us to understand this, and to work for peace. So, combining the war rug imagery with the Tibetan meditative practice felt like as appropriate a response as I could think of at the time.

What I perhaps love most about Koenen’s work is the way that kitchen ingredients take the place of warp and weft and turn war imagery into something delicate and finite. Strong imagery turned powdery and wispy, shining brighter with the fact that at any moment, the whole piece could be erased with a swipe of a hand or brush.

Given the fact that these rugs tell stories from the lives of Afghans, the high illiteracy rate in Afghanistan and the lack of infrastructure, the real rugs, their real power is also powdery and wispy, as soldiers bring back handcrafted rugs made by Afghans for the soldiers, turning the war into a commodity instead of a backdrop of life. As the rugs leave Afghanistan as souvenirs they disappear into the ether much like spices do when you spill a bit while making pie.

But then again, I’m fascinated with war rugs, with their storytelling, their history, their capturing of culture in a society where history books and museums and archives fade into the background when war is a daily reality. And what better to honor those pieces than Koenen’s rugs, as they perfectly gather those questions and problems with spices and time.

Also, the wonderful and amazing Heather has continued the conversation on the absence of the myth of the tortured crafter over on her blog! Do go check it out and join the conversation!

KOI Call for Proposals in DC!

| Betsy

First off, two things may come to mind when reading this post:

1. What is KOI? KOI stands for Kitchen of Innovation. Exact definition follows, text from a post on the KOI blog.
2. Art/Crafting in DC? Are you kidding me?

Photo by Flickr user adri_gz

Save the date: April 9, 2011. More details coming soon, but if you’re an independent artist interested in presenting a project for community funding, we’d love to have your application. See below!

Kitchen of Innovation (KOI) invites artists to submit project proposals for its next networking fundraiser to take place April 9, 2011. The deadline for submissions is
FEBRUARY 25, 2011.

KOI is an open-ended experiment that invites DC culture-lovers to invest in artists’ creative processes. It is a fundraising event that gathers like-minded people and promotes artists and initiatives. We are looking for projects that may not comfortably fit into conventional funding grants and artists who are not receiving steady income from galleries, theaters, universities, or non-profits.

KOI encourages creativity and investment: people who attend pay admission, share a meal, each artist gives a brief presentation, everybody votes, and the winner gets the money.

At the next KOI there will be 7 to 8 artists presenting their projects. If you are someone working with performance, sculpture, sound, visual arts, dance, puppetry, theater, web-based art, installation, or any combination thereof, please tell us about your plans. We are looking for projects by independent artists, meaning people who are neither in school nor working as full-time teachers. Recent graduates, adjuncts, and freelance artists are strongly encouraged to submit their ideas. We seek to fund proposals that are in need of creative investors and enrich DC’s artistic landscape.

We will ask the artists who fit KOI’s criteria to present their proposals in person in March and then choose people to present at our next events (there are 3 more KOI fundraisers planned for 2011). The first KOI (held in October 2010) generated networking opportunities, contacts and ideas for artists and participants, plus two artists split the income of $1000.

If you want to be a part of KOI, send answers to these questions to kitchenofinnovation@gmail.com

Include your name, email address, phone number and mailing address:

1. What is your project? (please answer in 150 words or less)

2. How will your project benefit people besides yourself? (answer in 150 words or less)

3. How would you spend the money received from KOI? (using 150 words or less)

4. Tell us if you are NOT available any of these dates/times: March 4 between 6-9 p.m. and Sunday, March 6 between noon-3 p.m. These are the dates we will meet with artists who fit KOI criteria and hear more about the project proposals.

The deadline for sending in your answers to the 4 questions: February 25, 2011

2. The DC thing. Yes, there are politicians here, and weird motorcades, and lots of people who carry special badges for work. But there is a directly opposite force of creativity (Pink Line Project comes to mind?) that, to me, fits perfectly. Creating in a place that’s too far left or too far right doesn’t feed me with what I need, the sharp contrast, playful opposition, open discussion and bizarre juxtapositions that result.

I know that that’s just my opinion, though. I’m still settling into the city, finding my way around, meeting more people (I know like 10 now! So much better than the previous 3… who were mostly related to me!), watching what sets DC apart from other places I’ve lived. Creativity exists in the push and pull binary that brings up questions, never settles and is always transforming.

So, yeah, we may not be NYC or Paris or London or LA. (Or Portland!) But, we have a vast collection of unique strengths and differences, free museums and people itching to create. I think DC’s magic is that the true creativity (art or craft) lies somewhat undiscovered underneath its politics and elections and senators. From there, it’s unbounded by rules or expectations or political sides, which is a mighty fine place to be.

Waste Land… Discovering the Wild World of Trash with Vik Muniz and Lucy Walker

| Betsy

I am constantly amazed by the possibilities of trash. How can we use it to make our world a better place? How do others use it earn a living? How much do we take our own separation from trash for granted?

And I’m by far from being the only one asking these types of questions! From a PR release from PBS today, if you’re free tomorrow you could do worse than go join the live chat with filmmaker Lucy Walker over on the Independent Lens blog tomorrow (Wednesday, February 9) at 1pm PST.

Filmmaker Lucy Walker will be joining us for a live chat on Wednesday, February 9 at 1 PM (Pacific) to talk about her film Waste Land. The documentary, which airs April 19 on Independent Lens has been nominated for an Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature.

The film follows Brazilian artist Vik Muniz, who travels to his native Rio de Janiero to embark on an ambitious mission to create portraits of the local trash pickers out of the garbage they collect the world’s largest landfill.

Don’t have time to join the chat tomorrow?

Go check out the Waste Land’s website here. Learn more about the catadores profiled in the film here. Read the New York Times review of the film here.

 

[Portrait of a catadore by Vik Muniz]
I especially love this quote from the film that starts out the NYT review from, Tiao, one of Waste Land’s profiled catadores, “We are not pickers of garbage; we are pickers of recyclable materials.” I think this simple quote perfectly elucidates trash’s ever revolving status and notes that instead of simply refuse, it’s also full of reusable materials. Instead of what we throw away being the end of the line, it can also be the beginning of someone else’s livelihood, project or dream.

Want to learn more about trash around the world? Go check out another amazing Independent Lens documentary, Garbage Dreams here. Here’s a preview of the film, about Cairo residents who work in one of the world’s largest trash dumps.

And before you chuck that next thing in the trash? Do you know where it’s going? Can it be recycled? Can it be upcycled? Where will it go after the trash bag leaves your house?

I still think that the possibilities of trash are endless, but in learning more from the stories of trash around the world, I begin to think more about the status of trash and of those working with it, the notion that “one (wo)man’s trash is another (wo)man’s treasure,” and how easily so much waste passes through my own hands each day. Should we be doing more to use our trash in creative ways? Should we be doing more to help those in other countries reuse their trash in more creative ways… especially when their country infrastructure lacks recycling and sanitation programs?

And like what happens whenever you start asking questions… the bottom opens up and suddenly your ideas and the possibilities continue to build and build and build until new solutions form and new projects unfold and shiny new collaborations take hold. And, like magic, from what previously seemed to be nothing, a whole new world shows itself to you.

Not totally unlike what happens when you start to take a real look at the trash in front of you.

Hi, Hey, Hello, 2011.

| Betsy

Here’s to the new year and all the dreams and adventures and love it may bring. As for 2010 parting, few things could be more fitting that this piece above.


Why this piece, you ask?

Because it depicts the juxtaposition of rough, activated and rugged (bull) vs warm, welcoming and beautiful (crochet) and how well they can go together. As those are the two poles we circumnavigate continuously in our daily lives, in between the good stuff and the bad stuff, I really like that it appeared on Wall St right at the tail end of a rough year. While this particular installation only lasted a scant two hours, this image remains as a testament to an artist’s vision, as she expertly combines aesthetics and concept. Of her work, Olek (born Agata Olek) writes,

It was truly a year of guerrilla actions that opened a new path in my crocheted investigations. I started it with a bike and ended up with the Charging Bull as a Christmas gift to NYC and a tribute to the sculptor of the bull, Arturo di Modica,* who in another guerrilla act, placed the bull on Wall Street in Christmas of 1987 as a symbol of the “strength and power of the American people” following the 1987 Stock Market crash.

This crocheted cover represents my best wishes to all of us. It will be a great, prosperous year with many wonderful surprises!!!

For more on Olek, check out her website, artist statement and be sure to check out her work, especially the Sculptures section for more amazing crocheted and fiber work.


So here’s to 2011, and here’s to new work, new ideas, new collaborations and new joy in this new year! And like di Modica and Olak, keep in mind that creativity and its creations are a gift, for both the maker and the viewer.



As makers we’re meant to let our ideas and whims break through into actual visual manifestations, we’re meant to put forth the work we envision in the shower, in a conversation, in dreams, everywhere we look. Maybe some projects falter and crack, but if you look carefully enough, they always light the path to an even bolder and more thought out project, the original thought was just the starting block.


As viewers, we’re meant to not only appreciate the time and effort that has gone into the making, we’re also meant to see these creations as manifestations of our own goals, in whatever shape they might evolve. Like the maker (creator, artist, crafter, whatevs), as viewers we are also here to create and make something beautiful, just perhaps not visually. Creativity, while at times, goofy, melancholy, engaging, is at its root, transformative, freeing and bold sparking revolutions both inside and outside of ourselves.



*For more on Arturo di Modica, check out his website. For more information on his statue, Charging Bull, go check out the Charging Bull Wikipedia page. Most interesting perhaps, is the original NYT story written the day after the bull’s installation on Wall Street in 1989.

[For more about the second photo, it’s by Flickr user Fotologic. About this photo she writes, “A still from a stop frame animation I made with my 8 year old son today. The full quotation from Henri Bergson reads: “To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating.”]

And for extra credit and two gold stars, go learn more about Henri Bergson, k?