Tuesday, August 31, 2010

minimalist schminimalist.

I think it's become fairly obvious that I am not a minimalist. Never have been. Never will be. My studio might be the prime example of that. Well, and the fact that we have 12 dogs and two cats. I find it hard to understand the minimalist concept/aesthetic. I mean, I guess I get the idea of not being tied down by a bunch of "stuff". And I do find my attachment to things to be pretty irrational at times. Like the time I laid on the hood of the car I had just sold and bawled my eyes out. Or when I was five and cried crocodile tears as my grandmothers old sofa was hauled out and the new one brought in. Obviously this is not a new aspect of my personality.
Some of my "clutter" is useful, some is nostalgia, some is sentimental, some is inspirational, some just makes me smile. For example: this bulletin board is VERY useful. It has my to do's, my assistant's to do's, ideas, and my photo of Raymond Burr. Very useful.
My desk. Pretty much all useful. Full, but useful. And my brand new Jonathan Adler mug that I am in love with and I am fairly certain it makes coffee taste better.
I have photos and magazine clippings stuff all over the place of things that inspire me, my collection of Perry Mason DVD's is at the ready, and this painting by Susan Gibson makes me smile every single day!
...more useful info, measurements I need to remember, bubble gum wrappers I need to keep, song lyrics written on scraps of paper, and little photo of Viggo Mortenson to swoon over from time to time.
I also have stacks and stacks of little bowls. In my kitchen I have stacks and stacks of big bowls, but in my studio these little bowls hold solder, jump rings, cut outs and saints for bottlecaps, random beads, and my uncle's gold tooth is in there somewhere...
It may seem odd and random to any one who doesn't know me. But I think to everyone who does know me it is probably pretty much just what you'd expect. This last photo is probably one of the more important things in my studio - my collection of prescription bottles, fabricated by me for my senior show my last semester of college. These remind me of where I've been, of what I've learned, both emotionally and educationally. It's not for every one - thank goodness.