Won't You Let Me Get Some Sleep Tonight

Hi everyone, here's a quick post before heading to bed. I finally have a public Facebook page... I think it's a  more efficient way to post short thoughts along with photos... I know, I know... why not Twitter? Honestly, I'm not sure. I have yet to try it.

A late bloomer perhaps?

In any event, I've been working on so many things that I would like to share, but sometimes I have no time to blog in the manner, and frequency to which I'd like, so I figure that using FB is a next good alternative.

So pop by if you have some time, and say hello!

+ The illustration above was published in Planadviser; art directed by Soojin Buzelli.
++ And the title of the post are lyrics from the song, "Don't Get Your Back Up," by Sarah Harmer.

Tell Me A Story

Recently, I was contacted by my friend and fellow artist Mickey Duzyj to participate in a project that he put together for his business of illustration class at the School of Visual Arts. Mickey asked various artists, writers, and thinkers to submit links to their favourite free online videos, which he then compiled into a list to give to his students, to hopefully inspire them.
Brilliant.

Here's my submission; it's from a TED talk by Elif Shafak. To follow is part of the email that I sent to Mickey describing the reason for my choice.
...
Elif Shafak was born in France, she writes in Turkish and in English. Here's the link:
http://www.ted.com/talks/elif_shafak_the_politics_of_fiction.html
I saw this talk on Ted some months ago and have never forgotten it, which is why I chose to send it to you. It gave me inspiration not only in way of learning how to nurture my imagination, but it also made me change the way that I have chosen to give talks whenever I'm invited to do so.
Hopefully it's less slide lecture and catalogue of my work, and more talk about my thought process when creating pieces.
.
Shafak speaks about the art of storytelling - and I immediately latched onto it via my own experience of storytelling through illustration; not in a premeditated sequential sense, but moreso in a poetic and organic way; using memory and life experience to inform the art, draw what you "feel" and creatively sitting in a space that is "in between" which will likely be uncomfortable.
I love this.
I think illustration can be learned in a very formulaic way; the creation of pictures via visual metaphor, using elements and design principles to navigate the viewer throughout the viewing surface in order to lead him or her to the perfect spots, which when connected, constructs the meaning or content of the piece.
But what's more elusive is trying to bring subtleties that can only be achieved by instinct, by viscerally feeling what is right at that moment, and then marking it onto the page... or stopping, so that the picture can reveal some special kind of nuance to the viewer.
I don't know if this can be taught?
... maybe it needs to be felt?
maybe it needs to be learned and felt through experience? by being prolific?
I don't know.
I'm not even sure i know if my writing reads clearly, but it's something that I strive to make manifest in my work whenever possible. Sometimes commercial illustration inspires limitations just from its namesake: the word "commercial" is rooted in commerce; it's for a mass audience -- to make money, to sell - I don't see this as a bad thing at all, just a plain truth.
However, there are still those opportunities that exist, in which clients collaborate with the illustrator to circumvent this typical process in order to create a piece that is much more striking -- Soojin Buzelli is one of these art directors, I believe.
Somewhere in the middle of her talk, when Shafak describes the aftermath of the quake, she doesn't focus on the ruins of the city, settling of the tremors, but instead on the silent unspoken union, and quiet gesture between two individuals, a conservative grocer, and a transvestite, who may never share any of kind of commonality. But the sharing of the cigarette, the shock in their faces, the experience of the quake, brings these two strangers together.

Moving

I'm moving again.
I've been at my studio for almost 3 years, and now it's time to leave.

Moving here was an incredibly important step for me in my growth as an artist and illustrator because it allowed me the space to work out some of the creative frustrations that I had been experiencing shortly after I moved to New York. This is not meant to sound negative; frustration for me, can sometimes be a catalyst for something better that is about to occur. It's the emotional preamble to something wonderful. That was partly the reason why I felt that I had to move out of SHY Studio, that I shared with Yuko and Katie; I needed my own space to express because the edge of my desk became a limitation that hindered me from psychologically and artistically going to a place where I could truly explore ... and make a mess, move around and expand into every corner of the room.
I'm someone who works best alone.
I realize this now.
I can concentrate when it's quiet.
For years, I've been trying to take my work, and my business to the next level. This is such a vague way of speaking - only I know what the next level is - and it didn't feel right, until now. My move is more out of a visceral decision to do so. Yes, I need to know that I can afford this, to move into a larger space -- I don't allow myself the liberty to choose to do something unless I know that I can manage it.
And so, I will be back soon, probably in the next few weeks with photos and images to share.
But in the meantime, I've got to start packing.
I saw a documentary about Ed Hardy a few weeks ago, he said something near the end about the artist's studio. This is not verbatim, but hopefully it is the gist of what he said, "When you first start out and have a studio there are so many people around you. And over time, you notice that one by one people begin to leave... and if you're lucky then you will too, someday."

My Internship with Gemma Kahng

 

For the past two months I've been interning with the fashion designer Gemma Kahng, in New York. She's been designing for twenty years and was huge in the nineties, alongside designers such as Marc Jacobs and Anna Sui (see Stylecaster and Cool Hunting for more info). Although I was still a teenager then, I remember some of the fashion photos of her work, particularly one that sticks in my mind was a Vogue cover of Christy Turlington wearing one of Gemma Kahng's shirts. Her work is mix of beauty and melancholy, strength and delicateness; it's the dialogue of opposites, the attention to detail, the clothing's refinement and the way that her work hinges on fine art, that inspired me to contact her to ask if she would be open to having an intern, who had little-to-no sewing, or pattern-making experience.

If you listened to my interview with Sam Weber, on his radio show Your Dreams My Nightmares,  I mentioned that I continually expand creatively outside of my discipline. I take night classes, and summer classes, I try to learn more about other things on my down time, whether it's cooking, playing the guitar, or creative writing. None of this means that I'm segueing out of, and into another profession or discipline - it only describes the way that I work; regardless of its perceived schizophrenic quality, it feels as though I'm playing. In addition to the learning component I think it also helps to pull me outside of myself, and nurtures a kind of humility that I believe is important if I want to achieve longevity and success in my personal and professional life.

Recently, I've been using fashion to express my ideas alongside illustration. My friend and fellow illustrator Victo (what a talent!) asked me several months ago why I've chosen to sew T-shirts for example, and then print on them, rather than buying generic ones, and printing on those.

Gurl has a point

After ruminating over this for some time, I realized that it was because I intended on one day being able to affect the overall design of the shirt, and possibly venturing into new territory mixing illustration with clothing construction, or even using fabric as the surface to carry my illustration work.

I don't know

Just sayin'...

I've had an affinity with fashion since I was very young, remembering clearly a particular runway show that I saw on television when I was probably ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen years old, of the designer Patrick Kelly. His work for me was playful and cheeky, and colourful and graphic, and as I write this, I wonder if some of his aesthetics trickled into my inspiration pot?

I've never worked as an intern before - well, let me rephrase, I haven't worked as an intern in the past eighteen years, and I haven't had a boss in about eleven years. Yes, I teach at SVA, and so technically there is a kind of work hierarchy which exists (i.e. I do have a boss); as it happens in freelance illustration as well, my work needs to be approved by someone higher up than me, but there isn't this feeling that I'm "less-than" someone else in any way, but moreso that I'm a collaborative partner who is hired to work on a project with someone else, instead of for them. Interning at Gemma Kahng's studio feels very much the same. I don't believe that I could have been more fortunate than to expand my knowledge of fashion through someone so kind and generous and artistic. She has allowed for me to participate in her collection development and I couldn't feel more grateful for that opportunity.

The photos that are shown in this post are of me creating some tank tops (sewn, silkscreened, and hand-dyed) for her collection which premieres tonight at her runway show. She's making a come-back on Day One of New York's Fashion Week, and I am so excited to be involved. She took me to task and had me cutting and sewing from the onset, helping me along the way (as did her sewers, who are all such amazing teachers!) to bring me to a new understanding of materials and equipment that I've rarely touched.

+ And here's a screen capture of it embedded with the final look last night from Stylebistro.com

Marks
I recently went to get more (tattoo) work done at Invisible, in New York City's Lower Eastside. I've been humming and hawing about getting another sleeve done; it's been about 6 or 7 years, I think, since I got my last one, but it's because I've been waiting for the just the right occasion. I currently have 2 pieces that form a full sleeve and chest panel on my left-side, not including the one that is now being worked on by Kiku. His drawings are sumptuous - an economy of line, that marry into bold and graphic shapes; his pictures are entirely beautiful, and so I knew immediately that I wanted for him to be the person to create my next sleeve. My friend Shawn Barber, who is an extraordinary painter, and passionate lover of tattoos, recommended that I take a look at his work -- and so I did.
Soon enough, I was already feeling the sharp drag of the needle beneath my skin. For anyone who has gotten work done before, it can be incredibly painful at some points, and during other times can feel less so, to where your body becomes used to the heat and grinding of the needle.
My tattoos carry with them, a story, and meaning; they represent moments in time, and changes that have occurred in my life which have been so profound that it inspires me to record these experiences as marks on my skin. I know that for someone like my mother, it makes very little sense why I would do such a thing - to ruin my body; however, it feels right, and proper for me, and has evolved perhaps into my own personal ritual that announces the various coming-of-ages in my life.

My Dreams, His Nightmares
Last Wednesday I stopped by SVA's radio station to do an interview with Sam Weber, on his radio show, "Your Dreams My Nightmares." If you're reading this blog, then you're most likely tapped-in; he really needs no introduction, but I'll give him one anyway. Illustrator, Artist, Educator, and now Radio Host, and fellow Canadian -- I couldn't be more thrilled. I met Sam years ago, shortly before I moved to New York from Toronto. If I remember correctly, it was the summer of 2003, and I believe he had just graduated from SVA's MFA Illustration program. The strength of his work preceded him even then, in a way that it oftentimes does around many talented folks. Being a kind guy, charismatic, and extraordinarily talented, I was honoured and thrilled to share the stage with him. So if you have any time or interest on a rainy friday, then take a listen to my segment here. Thanks again, Sam!

From My Desk to Yours
I wanted to pass along a link to an interview that I have posted on Kate Donnelly's website Fromyourdesks.com . The interviewer is my friend and fellow illustrator, artist and instructor extraordinaire Ellen Weinstein, who creates smart and beautiful collages, rich with metaphor. If you have some time, please check out the interview, here's the link www.fromyourdesks.com.