Saturday, January 03, 2004
It's been a while...I'm going through one of those phases where I'd rather not sit down and catalog the hours as they pass. Ah, unemployment. I can feel the malaise creeping in already. Shit. Time to put the liquor away.
I've been making long lists of things to to, things that will keep my lazy ass busy so I don't start chewing my own leg off to get out of the iron foxtrap of too much free time. For the first time in my life, I don't want to float so idly. Yeah, I know...I'm art boy, right? I should be up at the crack of dawn, stiff paper on the table and watercolors moistened in their trays. Well, that's not the case. After years of trying to find a consistence routine of working, I've found it. And that routine involves not much more than a hour of work a day. Three at the most. Most of the time is spent just thinking about working, trying to clarify some ideas and it serves me best to have a little tension, some obligation that I pretend I don't want but secretly relish. It's a long, tedious process to get the ideas together for a body of work.
Been reading a bit about the psychology of memory. Fascinated by all of that, the manner in which we cobble together a narrative--and a sense of self even--out of the random stonepile of memory. The more I attempt to remember, the more the past seems so slick and I can only occasionally find purchase. It makes me a bit melancholy that so much time has passed and I can only remember bits of it...and even those only in the most general fashion. I know certain memories are tied to certain eras so to speak (the year in California, the dope smoking years in Indianapolis, college, etc.) but trying to order era-specific memories: impossible. The only solid purchase I have on time and ideas is in the drawings. I can pin that stuff down so specifically to a thought, a specific month. I guess that's why I bother with it.
Put in sometime yesterday with Gaylord's ideas for the alphabet book. Man, that's going to be a pain in the ass. But I want to accept the challenge. So I will. A charm of finches will be done by the end of January.