Since it's been awhile, an update is probably in order. I first started this blog as a way to document in part some of the happenings going on in my studio, and so probably the most important update is that I no longer have it! This is not really bad news, or foreboding anything, least of all some kind of abandoning of art. If anything it could be said to be an abandoning of the self-conscious ownership of a place where art is produced, but it's not even that--I simply wasn't using the space as much as I was when I first got it, and realized I would rather use money spent on rent (not that much really, slightly more than it would cost to store all the supplies in some warehouse dedicated to that purpose) for other things. Visiting friends for one, a few short trips to escape the break up the monotony of a regular schedule.

Not included in those trips, that is, trips that require the kind of money I would save from not having an art studio, but nevertheless interesting was a hiking trip I went on, that I found out about via Meetup, a website that "organizes the world's people" for random events and get togethers. Everyone I've met through the site so far is either new to the area or single and looking, which is intriguing in itself, but what I like most is that the events that I've been to so far have been really informal, just the kind of thing for someone like me who has spontaneous bursts of spontaneity. Sure, I'll go on a weekend camping trip with a group of total strangers--who wouldn't?

That trip was suprisingly uneventful--no bear attacks, and no one met the person they're going to marry six months from now. Though I realized at the end of it that despite the apparent diversity of the group--men, women, older, younger, employed or figuring that situation out, we were actually united by a willingness to spend an entire weekend with a group of strangers, and having this in common I found went a long way in smoothing over the edges of what were otherwise very different personalities. The only other thing I took from the trip, besides a need to bring bear spray next time, if only so I can go to sleep at night, was from the conversation on the way over with James, about how we can love some things, and yet never have it occur to us to do those things. This was in the context of a conversation about James starting to learn guitar and sing James Taylor songs, discovering he has a talent for singing he never knew about before, and for me it was about the studio, talking about how after graduating college it never occurred to me, not until I left the city and all its inviting distractions anyway, to get it, to dedicate myself to it, at least for a time.

And it made me wonder what distractions I have now that I don't realize are distractions, and what I will discover I would really like to do when I finally get around to giving my mind a rest for awhile, let the water calm and stop trying to figure out What I Need To Do before I'm whatever age I should have already done it by, stop getting anxious that Kurt Cobain was world famous by my age, stop finding solace in the fact that Barnett Neumann discovered the paintings he would become famous for in his 50s. Stop conflating celebrities with anyone remotely like myself, and yet never stop trying to find something worth becoming famous for, worth devoting myself to, even if fame, the adoration of others would not be a natural consequence of my efforts. It's again this need for approval--not to be confused with love, not to be confused with caring what the people you care about think--where did this come from and how can I quit? Ellen DeGeneres has a fantastic bit about how she's on the approval "patch"--an addiction-battling treatment that releases small doses of approval until she can finally quit for good. This needs to be invented, and me put on a regimen.

This need for approval is at least one distraction, one consistent cause for at least some of my half attempts and failures to follow through on my ideas sometimes. I don't know what the others are, I just know I am tired of my own fleeting convictions, modest intentions, spontaneous spontaneity that are not unlike the marshmallows I've eaten in so many S'mores on so many camping trips. I think I would rather go back to hiking after already hiking because I'm so sick of these S'mores and all their predictable sweetnesses and textures. I do not want to be a dilettante.

In the studio, I discovered that trying to paint without any pretensions is the same as speaking glibly: something will undoubtedly pour forth, but it will usually be asinine. All your soft devotions will stand out against the background, and actually this is actually a good way of finding out about them, but unfortunately not a good way to make paintings. I think it's easy to confuse 'effortlessness' with a lack of effort sometimes. On the other hand, in making a conscious effort, my fear was always that the act would devolve into the affectation of making art. And this did happen sometimes, but in spite of this, some good paintings emerged. Despite my own misgivings about art as product, it's nice to have something to show for some of my time in studio. Maybe the solidity of the paintings is necessary for me before I go on to less tangible things.

I would get a studio again--even if it is in the form of a spare room in some future apartment. I will also go on more camping trips. I would like to hike some more with the people I love, but perhaps also with strangers again, taking care not to be indifferent to who I'm sharing the experience with, but being my honest self with both groups of people. Maybe next time I will fish (I haven't done that in years) catch a couple bass, gut them and cook them on a fire I built. I would also like to write more, maybe some poetry.