"Red Chair"

"Red Chair"
Sintra engraving on paper, acrylic paint
8.5" x 8.5" (unconstructed)

My new little papercraft print, "Red Chair," is on view right now in Milwaukee as part of PRNT:MK, the 2013 SGCI printmaking conference.  I'm not attending, sadly, because attending as someone not attached to a university in some way is crazy expensive.  So, I've been attending about every other year.  The picture at left was taken by Colin Roe Ledbetter of the portfolio my piece is included in, Assorted Delights.



 

This piece is also in the upcoming show Cloud 9, at the Trunk Space in Phoenix, AZ with a reception on April 5th.

The piece has an inner chamber, and if you peer through the windows in his torso you can see it, too. Though it's difficult to photograph, I've attempted it to give you some idea.

For the portfolio this piece was made for I needed to construct about 20 individual figures, each one taking a little over an hour to make.  By the time I'd finished cutting and gluing the last one I sort of hated them.  It's been a couple weeks now, so I no longer hold such loathing for the needless complexity I engineered into his construction.

 At left, you can see "Red Chair" inconstructed.

And here's Mulcifer the cat, diligently overseeing me as I print.

Black Lipstick

Skin turns to parchment in the heat. Curling up in papery layers, pulling back from the flesh, and exposing it in warm pink stripes.



A friend, to explain a complaint, told me that poverty is not typified so much by a lack of money but by the attitude that everything is irreplaceable, and so the poor amass yogurt containers, mop handles with decaying sponge heads, dishes in boxes unused and ugly. His complaint was towards my own habit of hoarding, assigning more importance to the funds which might be spent replacing the ephemera in the future should I find a use for it once its gone than to the money spent on storing the ephemera in waiting for this phantom purpose. Still I can't shake the desire to hold onto anything which passes through my possession, and go out of my way to amass the detritus of other people as well. Yet I get a luxurious pleasure when I assign the shoe rack, which I know I could make into something else, to the Goodwill pile. It feels rich to value space.