I haven't had a solo show in almost two years, I've put some older work in a couple of group shows but basically I've been making work just to make work. The freedom is great, it has allowed me to experiment which produces things that I might not make with an audience in mind.
But creating a body of work for a specific exhibition on a specific date for a specific venue sets solid perimeters and boundaries which I do well with. It's a focus, a purpose. I've felt a bit scattered without such guidelines but wouldn't trade the weird shit that has put itself on canvas (and wood and jars and cardboard, etc.).
A shift in that way of working is on the horizon I feel. Next month I leave for a two-week artist residency at Weir Farm Art Center in Wilton, CT. Residencies have provided directions and stirred interest in things, places, people, and ideas that I could have never come up with on my own. I can only hope that Weir Farm will be no different. And this upcoming fall I will begin grad school at TCU as a MFA in Painting student.
Having said all of that, I put together a solo show of weird shit for my dog, Kona. As you can tell, she couldn't care less.
Museo de Kona
I find it interesting how ideas spring back up again and again. In this case - little houses. New Zealand (2011): While suffering from homesickness and at the same time exploring what the hell home really meant, I made a shit ton of small house sculptures using materials around my living quarters. Fort Worth, TX (2014): I found home. Not just a location but the home in your heart and all the other true and trite descriptions of that feeling of safety and comfort. Again, I made a shit ton of small houses.
New Zealand Houses (left) Fort Worth Houses (right)
My friend's girlfriend told him a story of a little field mouse when they first began dating. He asked me to illustrate that story which he turned into a book. He then proposed to her with said book. She said yes. Sweetest. Story. Ever. I am so honored to have played a part in something so wonderful.
And here is a stop motion film about footsteps.