Welcome to the rebellious blog of an obsessively overly perfectionistic artist, who is compelled to create and occasionally write about the proccess. Do artists really have to be crazy to create? Perhaps not, but the water is warm, so dive in and find out! RSS Feed "Be a good craftsman; it won't stop you being a genius." - Auguste Renoir 12/31/2006 The Me-Me-Mating Dance song du jour: Desperate but not Serious, Adam Ant mood: slightly bored Why is it that so very many men, when confronted with whatever curve meets their fancy, cease any indication of social skills and begin blathering on about their work, latest projects, latest ideas/obsession, wealth, or whatever they deem to be success as if they were offering up a slab of gazelle to a female in the sad hope of clothing removal? I'm no longer merely a single woman at parties or in the grocery store. I'm a working anthropologist, detachedly observing the tedious awkward strutting about of a large scale hominid-bird, who has just spied 2" of cleavage. Why is it that so many men believe that if they talk about themselves incessantly, it will get them some nooky? I've come up with only two answers. One possible answer is that complete lack of awareness is an inevitable result of all the blood running out of the upper brain and into the lower one, a theory backed up by more than one woman's assessment of her lover's (or lovers') performance. The other answer is this ritual has worked in the past. Contemplating the first reason, certainly not all men behave this way. My guy friends don't, and given that they are usually confronted with that same 2" of cleavage, I have some proof that men do have some sort of system in place for making sure enough blood stays in the upper brain for them to remain highly intelligent beings WITH social skills. Most of my male friends are married or in partnerships, and whether I know their female partners or have become friends with them through those partners, these guys are some of my most favorite people with whom I giddily look forward to having amazing conversations about books and ideas. Why? They are exceedingly bright people, who grasp the power of the word dialogue. I'm also quite certain that these men did not initially win over their mates by performing the Me-Me-Mating dance. Regarding the second reason, that women respond favorably to such egotism is a sad reality, and I confess here and now that the slightly more subtle forms of me-me-me have been disguised in just enough charm to catch my attention for a time because I've long been aware that such boasting is an indication in this culture that a guy is interested, but ultimately I get bored (and frustrated) waiting for that time when just a little bit of the deal will be about me. Usually we find enough characteristics we like to overlook the obvious. More often than not, when we discover there is no room for our own interests, values, work, etc., we hold onto those good qualities like a loosening lifeline in fear that there won't be anyone else. Unfortunately, giving into the attention of a guy, who thinks the world exists primarily for his attempts at success in it, sends a message that a partner too is willing to rotate around that axis. I believe we call this patriarchy. So why is that I find myself witnessing verbal equivalents of wing flapping and chest beating so frequently now? Has it always been this way in my dating life, or is this what's left of the single males at my age? I try remembering back to my 20's, and the picture does come up, occasionally, of me wide-eyed and smiling until my face ached, and saying, "oh...uh huh... how interesting..." but perhaps only on half my first dates at most. Now it seems endless be the single males 25 or 55. I'm wondering if times changed so much during my married years, or, keenly aware that I have so much fun living the creative life and fearing time will run out before I learn to speak French fluently, use half the pack ratted art supplies in my studio, or ever attempt learning to play the piano again, I have lost all tolerance for men, who are dumb enough to think they can get me into bed by talking endlessly about themselves. A good salsa partner will start out slowly, assessing what his partner knows, likes, and can do well. It is his job to frame her, and though he might, much later on in the dance, share with her moves he knows that she does not, it will be for the expansion of the dance NOT to boss her around, ONLY if he knows well the woman's required footwork, and always with the goal of making her look and feel good about where this vertical expression is headed. I think I danced with someone like this once. A friend of mine, who recently witnessed a me-me-mating dance performed on my behalf, later stated brilliantly that what works best is when a man looks to the woman to discover "what the dance is" and then dances this dance, with the man's powerful masculine agency still fully intact. Straight single men, that, as Harry Conick Jr. would say, is "The Recipe for Makin' Love." 12:24 PM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 4 comments 12/30/2006 Cool-O-Matic song du jour:Tango Tripping, Adios Nonino mood: hip & swingin' Looking for totally unrelated info yesterday, I discovered this project that is so amazingly cool, I can't wait to check out the machine here in Atlanta. It's called Art-O-Mat. I might $5 myself to death buying art. Hell, it's got my brain going so fast that one day my work might be available for $5 just so I can participate. Check to see if there's one in your area. Even more unrelated but well worth watching is this clip. You've heard of West Coast Swing. You've heard of Tango. How about Swango? I got so caught up in this video, I forgot where I was for a minute. Enjoy! (I'm off to spend the next 6 hours 'Refusing to Choose' and doing 4 million things I love as per my last post.) 2:01 PM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 0 comments 12/24/2006 Get Your Wonder On First of all, let me wish you and yours a wonderful and non stressful holiday season, and as we close the door on another year, thanks very much for being part of this blogging adventure. Happy cake and cookie eating, everyone! Whatever your spiritual persuasion, may the childlike wonder of Christmas be yours each and every day. ~Victoria song du jour: Carol of the Bells, ANYONE but Amy Grant mood: in a wrapping, cooking, creating frenzy Step away from l'insanity des holidays for a moment, and go to this amazing site. Better yet, get the book, Museum of Lost Wonder for yourself for Xmas. Amazon has it for under $33. It's been on my wish list for weeks, and thanks to the lovely gift certificate from my generous aunt and uncle, it is now my nightly reading along with Barbara Sher's latest book, Refuse to Choose. The Museum of Lost Wonder is one of those incredible books that feels like an open window to my lifelong way of looking at the world and a great tool to bring about more creativity as I'm always preaching. It's somewhat in the vein of Nick Bantock's books in its interactive capabilities, yet the format is like no other book I've explored. If you like science, philosophy, or art, venture in and have fun. Being curled up with that book in bed beats the hell out of dealing the real thing in Atlanta. I do hate to complain when I can drive 15 minutes to stare at the work of Velasquez and Raphael instead of flying to Paris, but the new Louvre-Atlanta exhibit at The High Museum of Art has all the normal dysfunctionality, lack of regard for customers as anything other than an intrusion, and guards, who act like they are beaten and humiliated on their coffee breaks before returning to their posts, despite all the money they've put into two new buildings. Who's brilliant idea was it to have the ticket counter and the coat and umbrella check in one building and the actual entrance to the exhibit in another that must be accessed by walking outside, across the courtyard with not even so much as a covered walkway?!? Typical Atlanta style planning. The one thing that makes going worth all the effort is that those few paintings loaned to the Deep South are hung down low, where an artist can see every detail of the brushwork, or in some cases the miraculous lack thereof, whereas in the Louvre they are hung at a dizzying height far and away above this 5' munchkin gawker. Oh, and if you already have 400 projects and books started and feel guilty that you can't finish everything, then also check out Refuse to Choose!: A Revolutionary Program for Doing Everything That You Love and learn that you are not crazy, lazy, or a dilettante, and how you can (and why you should) do it all. 12:53 PM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 0 comments 12/02/2006 2 Beautiful Sights song du jour: Tripsonno, Del Plata mood: whew! 7 months in the making, and my magnum opus to date is finally (almost) complete. Like most any blockbuster, my release date is a month behind, but tomorrow I pick up the masters and fedex them to the DVD replication company. Except for the shipping schlepping, it is now mostly out of my hands, and I'm sure my director-editor-videographer god, Matthew, will be grateful only to hear my voice in social settings for a while. Wild as it's been for this one woman show to collaborate on such a huge project, I am endlessly grateful to work with someone, who shares the same vision, and who, no matter what I threw at him never said anything but "ok" in the most patient can do tone. (I figure whatever he's said behind my back will be offset by a series of big checks.) As sick as I am of hearing myself talk about filigree, I am still utterly mesmerized at Matthew's spectacular moving images of my babies in progress. It made pulling and editing 50+ stills for the PDF book so much more rewarding. Ah, yes, the PDF book... 70 picture and text heavy pages. I thought I was doing a DVD instead of a book, but in my bottomless sense of integrity, I was determined that anyone, who already knows how to silver solder, can learn Russian filigree from this DVD. The PDF allows people to watch instead of taking notes and still have the directions beside them while they work. After working until literally sun up every night this week, I'm having a hard time slowing down to my usual 80mph. I need some kind of post production half way house in which to recover and ease back into my normal crazy busy life. I do in most days what 'busy' people do in a week, but this has been a massive undertaking. Shooting it was the easy part. I need elves. I was content developer, set designer, graphic dept., script writer, manual writer, production assistant, stylist, stills photographer, and producer. My PR and marketing hats stay on. I've pre-sold quite a few copies, which tremendously helped offset the $$$ replication costs, allowing me to do the highest possible quality first run, and I've already got two of the largest retail supply companies interested and awaiting their copies of the retail ready package. And now to finish the last minute Xmas commissions... 12:04 AM - permanent link email this entry to a friend 3 comments

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