Carly Bodnar Studio

Exquisite Poop: Blind Reproduction (My first NY opening!)

2012-03-01T10:45:00.009-05:00

Exquisite Poop: Blind Reproduction

March 10 – April 15, 2012
Opening Reception Saturday, March 10, 6-9pm
Live performance by Abacus Jones 8pm
$10 voluntary donation / Refreshments served

A Gathering of the Tribes
285 East 3rd St. 2nd Floor (Between Ave C & D, near F at 2nd Ave or Delancey/Essex)
New York, NY 10009 (212) 674-3778
info@tribes.org / gatheringofthetribes@gmail.com

Original: Mine (Carly Bodnar)
Description: Casey Plett
Reproduction: Lorra Jackson

You are cordially invited to what may be the very last art show at Tribes. Inspired by the different descriptions Steve Cannon’s visitors would give of the art on the walls, and by taking the blind professor to art openings, curator Janet Bruesselbach organized an elaborate art and writing project between 13 artists and writers. It aims to consider the subjectivity of attentive visuality in art writing and the absurdity of symbolic imagery.

The artists were invited to contribute a small two-dimensional work, and commit to another. Images, titles, size and media information were then assigned to the writers, who were charged with describing the art as thoroughly and sincerely as possible. These descriptions were nearly randomly assigned to the contributing artists, who were tasked with recreating the artwork they thought the writer had described, without knowing the artist or seeing the original image.

The first stage of translation from visual to verbal varies hugely in style and focus, even given stylistic restrictions. The artist’s job is even harder and even more subject to the variations of personality and style. Not only was it hard to communicate the most basic aspects of artwork or even the rules of the game, the variations in series are indescribable. The resulting illustration of mis/communication varies from wondrous to farcical and demonstrates the impossibility of translation.

Participating artists: Alexis Duque, Lorra Jackson, Brian Elig, Blair Kamage, Carly Bodnar, Robert Scott, Joseph Materkowski, Samuel Bjorgum, Lauren Kolesinskas, Jessica Daly, David Hollenbach, BMIP (Babyhead), and Nick Musaelian

Participating Writers: Allison Moore, Maddie Drake, Josh Crowley, Jenny Bhatt, Casey Plett, Kaitlin Heller, Adam Kavulic, Zane Hart, Matt Keeley, Amanda Spitzer, Jon Boulier, Ammon Ford, and Chris Heffernan

----

In other news, I scored passes to both the Scope and Armory art fairs. A picture-filled post will hopefully be forthcoming.

Love-Hate

2012-02-10T19:02:00.006-05:00

All my paintings, or at least the ones I consider the most successful, go through a stage where I completely hate them. The ones that make it from idea to actuality without passing through the hate zone just seem to be missing something. Maybe it's just in my own interpretation, because I haven't "fought" for it, but maybe it's from the lack of physical buildup of markmaking that results from reworking a piece or obscuring the surface, turning it on its head, and nearly starting over. (There was a period where I literally was spitting on my paintings during this part of the process. Talk about hate.) The easy paintings, the ones that don't feel so hard-won, make me a little wary, like the early stages of a new relationship. We haven't been through shit together, we haven't worked through the flaws, so I'm not sure it's worth it yet.

That's not to say that the hate phase is pleasant. It sucks. It's full of self-doubt and standing face-to-face with a painting so ugly that I can't not do something about it. But that's the genius in it. Without that freedom to try something, anything -- why not, there's nowhere to go but up -- and see where it goes, I get stuck in preciousness. I get so caught up on the good bits, fall so in love with them that I can't bear to lose them. Even when it's clear that the painting as a whole just isn't working and needs something drastic, I'm afraid to let the sweet spots go. Perhaps this comes from a doubt in my ability to make anything quite so perfect again. I desperately want to save a copy, so that if I completely, irreparably screw it up, I can revert back to my last saved version.

But that's not an option, and won't be, by virtue of the medium. And despite the unpleasantness of the fear and the self-doubt and the clinging and the feeling stuck, that's one of the things that attracts me to it. It's part of why I have a hard time with the idea of digital painting; the potential for failure is essential.

The current painting in progress is stuck in that clingy, fearful, pre-hate phase. There are a few real sweet spots, glimmers of what it could become, but it's absolutely not there yet. I have no choice but to push it through the hate phase. If I've learned anything about my process, it's that momentum is a big help. So, the plan for tonight is to rush headlong into ugly, to obscure and destroy, drip and splatter -- and to have faith that the painting and I will come out the other side stronger for our trials -- until I have no other choice but to fix the mess I've made.

Sweet spot. In memoriam.

The Unwilling Feminist. Or, dealing with the role of gender in one's own art.

2011-11-18T15:49:00.007-05:00

I hopped the Metro-North up to New Haven yesterday to attend Yale's MFA Open House. On the way back, my tired mind inevitably wandered to the topic of my own artwork. It looped idly around the whats and whys, contextualized by having just visited a dozen studios of first-year MFA students as they approach the end of their first semester in the country's top painting grad program. My conversations with them tended toward a discussion of their work itself and how its direction is changing since coming into the program, the where and when of their undergrad, and the portfolio and interview portions of the application process. And so I was left pondering how the disparate tangents of work that I'm making and brainstorming (the bodyfolds, the babies, the dress paintings) make sense together as a body of work.

This isn't a new rumination, by any means. Since mostly abandoning my previous 'style'/approach, I've been trying to let myself paint whatever it is that attracts me, without [too much] judgement. There have been ample fits and starts and dead ends, though, leaving a wake of scattered ideas and unfinished pieces. How to bring it all together into something cohesive and application-worthy (whether for grad school or another opportunity) is something I'm often trying to figure out.

Bodyfolds 1
Oil on canvas, 23"x23"

Baby #3: Dexter
Oil on canvas, 17"x17"

This train of thought keeps bringing me to the same conclusion: I seem to be painting about "women's issues." And every time I reach that idea, I'm quite taken aback. Surprised, and dare I say, appalled. And then I'm a little horrified or embarrassed at my own reaction. Is it really so horrible to think that I might be painting about "women's issues," whatever that means? Is the thought of being a feminist artist so terrible?

No, of course not. But it's not something I identify with, either. I've never considered “women's issues” or feminism at all central to my existence or philosophy, perhaps to the chagrin of the women around me. I have been content to essentially see the world as somewhat ungendered, or to accept and live by "men's" rules (and often, to win by them, at least according to my own scorekeeping). The way I see it, I am a body but I don't feel like a terribly gendered body.

Except when I do feel like a terribly gendered body, which of course makes me incredibly anxious. And my paintings tend to come from a place of anxiety. If the challenge is now to figure out the underlying impetus of my imagemaking (rather than what the images themselves have in common, which worked for me in the past) then maybe there's your answer.

So, now to deal with this idea that I might be painting about "women's issues" or making "feminist art" or something along those lines. I think one problem I have with owning those sorts of statements is that they feel incredibly universal, whereas I'm intending to make work about the personal. I'm primarily just sorting out my own shit here; if it's relevant or resonates with someone else, that's great, but ultimately it's secondary. I identify more closely with the multitudes of artists who use personal mythology, psychology, and narrative as content. Furthermore, there's some frustration over the tendency for the question of gender to always be brought up in the context of women's work, but not in a man's.

Help Is Not Appealing
Karla Black, 2010
Sugar paper, chalk, spray paint, ribbon.

“It bothers me that only women's work is gendered. I wouldn't mind these questions if male artists were also asked them.” - Karla Black, interviewed in Modern Painters, October 2011

But I also wonder if that tide might be turning a bit. Both Andrew Salgado (whose show, “Anxious,” was up at Tache Gallery until just today, I believe) and Aaron Smith are working with ideas about masculinity and its portrayal in a way that seems akin to how some women artists who really own their feminine or feminist content have been dealing with those issues.

Untitled (After Bataille)Andrew Salgado, 2010
Oil on canvas, 40"x36"

Zooshy
Aaron Smith: 2011
Oil on panel, 60"x48"

In examining my work, where it comes from, and where it fits, I think what is closer to the truth is that it comes out of my failure or refusal to embrace women's role(s). The bodyfolds paintings definitely arose out of a tense relationship with my own flesh. The baby paintings arose out of my anxiety (and if I'm totally honest, my attraction/repulsion tension) over children and childbearing. The dress paintings started with inklings of feminine costume or artifice -- quite literally the "trappings" of womanhood? -- perhaps involving mother-daughter relationships and coming-of age rites, and are now shaping up to have something to do with a feeling of foreignness in my own skin.

Lastly, part of my rejection or discomfort over where or whether my art might intersect feminist art comes out of the fact that I'm almost wholly uninformed about the whole thing. Feminism and art? I have no clue, really. I was at the Brooklyn Art Museum a few weeks ago with a friend, where we saw the Dinner Party and got into a discussion about its merits or lack thereof. All I could really say is something like “well it's art-historically important.” I have embarrassingly little knowledge of that whole realm, both historically and whatever may be going on contemporarily. Luckily, to fix that, I just need to read up.

Histories, Arcs, and Works in Progress

2011-11-05T17:17:00.000-04:00

Composition/idea/approach exploration sketch for a project I've been referring to as The Dress Paintings.

Pastel pencil on kraft, 9"x12"

November 2011

Sometimes I'll do a sketch or work through an idea only to realize later that I'm pulling from ideas I've already seen or worked with and forgotten about. This has been happening a lot lately.

Here, a sort of simultaneity/non-linearity of time, explored through a montage of arms and hands, using photographic references but creating composites by hand rather than digitally. The result sparked a memory of a hand montage from over 6 years ago. Recurring imagery for me, apparently.

Montage of Jason's hands

Ink and oil on bristol paper, 11"x14" (?)

June 2005

Also, no doubt influenced by the Jenny Saville show at the Gagosian, where she composited drawing atop drawing, redrawing/correcting portions in addition rather than in substitution.

Jenny Saville at the Gagosian

Installation view

2011

Wild sparks like fireflies

2011-09-22T22:00:00.000-04:00

I'm not the only one looking at balloons...

Robert Jackson, Balloon Race

oil on linen, 48 x 48 inches

2009

Robin Willliams, Place Holder

oil on canvas, 48 x 54 inches

2008

Balloons.

2011-09-04T01:00:00.005-04:00

I've recently developed a slight obsession with balloons. Basic party balloons from the dollar store. Quite possibly because of the image from two posts ago with the arms wrapped around that big balloon-like thing. But also, maybe, because at our cramped corner dollar store the party section is right at the door, so all of a sudden balloons are literally on my radar.

(They've actually been on my radar intermittently for years, in experimental sculptural/installation work that I failed to document. At the time, I wasn't really taking it seriously because "I don't do sculpture." I've been kicking myself pretty hard for the past month or two. Lesson learned.)

They've become this vehicle for working through ideas, at least in my head, showing up in two recent proposals/applications. The idea is that I'll use them as still lifes to draw from directly, and also as photography subjects to build a collection of images to paint from. Sort of like taking the Of Flesh and Fruit project all the way to fruition in paintings. But I'm still figuring out how to work with them adeptly in real life.

Right now they're getting pinned to the wall of the studio in joyously cancerous little clusters. They make me think a little of Ross Bleckner's early stuff (who, by the way, has been letting Art Blog Art Blog use his Manhattan studio space for gallery shows while he's at his studio out in the Hamptons or wherever).

I've been doing some basic skill-building type drawing, just getting used to working from life again instead of just out of my head or from a flat image. What's coming out isn't exactly prodigious, but at least I feel like I'm getting somewhere.

I feel like there's something right around the corner as far as the work is concerned. I feel like I'm on the verge of finding something really fruitful, this thing that maybe I've been looking for all along. And then I get swallowed up momentarily by this worry over whether what I'm doing is worth doing at all. And then I realize that maybe this feeling, this being on the verge and wondering if it's actually there, maybe that's what this whole thing is about. Maybe I just need to get used to that feeling, because it's certainly the most purposeful and excited I've felt in the studio in quite a while.

Experiments and Developments in Studio Furnishings

2011-07-24T14:03:00.023-04:00

Note: If you're looking to read things about the mysical/revered/ineffable creative process, there won't be much in this post for you. If, on the other hand, you geek out over minuscule technical developments and love seeing how other people function on a practical level in their studios, then read on!

The first big deal in the studio is that I replaced my many-years-old Liquin squeeze bottle solution. Backstory: I love Liquin, but I like to get it in the big 1-liter glass bottle, the top of which gets all gunked up over the course of opening and pouring and closing repeatedly. Plus, you have to shake it like an uncooperative ketchup bottle. I actually emailed Winsor & Newton a few years back, asking if they knew anything about Liquin's interaction with plastics, as it's a petroleate. They had no idea; I was on my own. So I got a squeeze bottle made of that sort of gummy soft plastic. And it worked fine, for a long time.

Old Liquin Bottle (Deceased)

There was clearly some air communication through the walls of the container, causing a skin to form, but in the basement studio, where the temperature was really controlled and the air a bit humid, it wasn't much of an issue. Scene change to NYC, cue heat wave. The skin formed so fast that it was just a waste, and then the squeeze bottle split up the side in a final throe of death.

In search of a new bottle -- and quickly -- I came upon an almost-empty ketchup in the fridge, contained in the new Top-Down bottle from Heinz. Thank god for food packaging innovations (I'm only half sarcastic here). It's kind of perfect. The plastic is rigid, not gummy, but squeezable. (I don't know my plastics, but the recycle code on it is 1 and it says "PETE" below. Does that mean it's PET plastic? I don't know. I could probably google it, though. The previous squeeze bottle didn't have a code.) And of course it's meant to stand upside down so it's always ready to dispense. And it has a valve! Actually, the valve has been a bit problematic, because the Liquin has been wanting to separate lately, perhaps because of the heat, but I'm finding a good violent shake does the trick. And the best part is: no skin has formed yet. Even through our patch of 100-plus-degree days. I think I've found a winner.

Heinz Top-Down Bottle Repurposed as Liquin Dispenser
Second on the list of neat experiments is a custom oiling-out formula I put together. On the wallpaper painting, I was having a terrible time with glare on the darker edges. Even using my photographer's even lighting we couldn't get it to photograph sufficiently well. Furthermore, this is one of those things that I just have to troubleshoot because it becomes a problem on all my work. Not having had a very good technical painting education, I hadn't heard of oiling out. But, thanks to YouTube, I had subscribed to Gamblin's feed, and they had recently put out a video on the topic. (I was on a YouTube kick for a while, so I watched that, and about a million other things, including Art21's new series, which is totally worth a look.) A good artist-friend of mine had also passed along the tip that Lavender Spike Oil was supposed to reduce shine on dark areas when used as a medium. So I hodge-podged together a recipe for my own oiling-out solution, hoping for a finish would be even and maybe a little satin.

Collection of Painting Mediums

1 part Odorless Mineral Spirits (1 small pour, maybe a tablespoon? two?)

1 small lump Cold Wax Medium (lima bean size)

Smash and stir til dissolved.

1 part Galkyd

1 1/2 or 2 parts Lavender Spike Oil

Then you brush it on evenly and rub it in with a cloth (cheesecloth, ideally) using circular motion.

It definitely seemed to help considerably. Now the painting is at the photographer's again, and I'm awaiting results. She may still have to use polarizing filters to get it just right on film, we'll see. But I have high hopes. And already the in-person experience of it is improved, the colors glow and the corners don't glare. (Storing the leftovers in a tin can with plastic wrap, however, was a failure. I got a glass jar with a rubber seal for storing future batches.)

Development number 3 involved a trip to Ikea. The Brooklyn store is kind of a hell-hole, and that's not just because I'm partial to the Portland one. But we drove out over the Brooklyn Bridge, and coming back into the city the view was just beautiful, so the trip was arguably worth it just for that. It's funny to realize that there's a lot of the city I haven't actually seen, despite having traveled past/through it, because I'm so often underground. It feels like a strange treat to be in a car.

Anyway, we made the Ikea trip because I've had my eye on the Bygel cart since before I moved.

New Painting Cart

It's very compact, not too rickety, and only $30. Hard to argue. I also got some glass shelves to use as palettes. It's so nice to be mixing on glass again. Plus, I have my desk area back, now that my palette and brushes are all loaded onto the cart. I can't help but miss my old painting cart, with it's 4 swiveling wheels and hugeness, but for my current space this is a vast improvement.

The last and most recent development is that we finally got sufficient air conditioning installed to deal with this heat wave. And it's been glorious. I can finally paint without dripping sweat, and without my paint literally drying on the brush. Oh, a/c, how I love thee.

More Clippings

2011-07-13T00:34:00.000-04:00

Visual troubleshooting. Jumpstarting. Things I'm looking at right now.

Nicolas Holiber is inspired by meat.

I know nothing about this image (except that it's by Annika von Hausswolff; via mounts tumblr).

Steve Budington paints bodies. Sort of.

Clippings

2011-06-27T13:52:00.000-04:00

Things are moving along here in this New York adventure. Two months in, and it looks like I'll be joining the ranks of the employed day-jobbers. More details when they're set in stone.

Exhibition news should be coming soon, as well as a new print.

Until then, here are some of the lovely things that have been saturating my retinas lately...

Eliot Lee Hazel's work is astoundingly beautiful. Ethereal, ambiguous, but captivating. I especially like his Moby Ohno set, from which this first image comes.
See this image in motion in the Moby Ohno video teaser here.

Also on the radar are three artists from the Columbia University 2001 MFA Thesis Exhibition:

Chris Jehly comes from the world of or is at least strongly influenced by street art. Dude knows what he's doing with line. Of course, the pieces he had in the MFA show aren't online anywhere (that I can find) which is a shame.

Brie Ruais is a sculptor working primarily in ceramic and plaster. And, sometimes, sticks. I don't like all of her work, but what I like, I like a lot.


"Undoing Persephone", 2011 Plaster, fabric, steel, wood, found branch (included in MFA Thesis show)	"Weighted by the Sunset", 2010 Plaster, pigment, fabric

The third is Joseph Michael Lopez, a photographer working in a somewhat journalistic style, I suppose. I mean that in the sense that he shoots the world around him, people on the streets, etc., rather than setting up shoots or creating worlds. His shots still have that dreaminess to them, though. Apparently that's what does it for me in photography. His site is flash, which means I can't pull images. But go look at it anyway... The link above goes straight to my favorite shot of his.

And then, last but of course not least, is the Alexander McQueen show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art: "Savage Beauty."

Overwhelming in the best way. Past his mastery of the craft, of tailoring itself, McQueen was undeniably an artist. These things he created are sculpture as fashion, or fashion as sculpture... The pieces and other artifacts were supported by video of some of the runway shows. McQueen runway shows are not exactly your run-of-the-mill, walk-and-turn shows, and seeing the garments in his version of motion was very informative. (Runway shows can be viewed in the Runway Archive.) The presentation of his collections grouped more by theme than by seasonal collection, which made it more difficult to get a clean chronological grasp of his work, but was incredibly useful as a source of inspiration.

Jumping With Both Feet

2011-04-26T15:23:00.000-04:00

Hey there. Long time no see. How've you been? Oh, what's new with me? Well... I moved to New York City. Last Friday.

When the subject comes up, total strangers and close friends alike seem surprised that I would ever leave Portland. Why? they ask. Portland's so livable. New York is sooo expensive! My answer is, mostly, that it was just time. Things lined up, opportunities presented themselves, doors swung open. And the truth is that, although the art world is decentralizing, New York City is still its center. Plus, if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere.

Projects on the horizon include:
- renewed commitment to the Gloriously Awash in Sin blog, possibly with a more fictional direction from Casey Plett;
- a food/kitchen macguyver blog project with Stephen Moles (details yet to be hashed out);
- and of course, a whole new set of paintings.

As my life started to seriously change direction in Portland, so did my painting. If you follow me on flickr, you will have seen some of my new work in progress. That's where I'll be starting when I get the studio up and running here... and then I'll just follow it where it takes me.

One day at a time.

New work in progress: 'Curl'

2010-10-11T06:52:00.001-04:00

For now I'm calling it "Curl." (Now that I'm taking progress shots of my paintings, I have to give them some sort of working title so I can make a folder... damn you technology.) Finished dimensions will be about 44"x36" I think.

I like the linear/gesture quality at this point. Not what I had originally envisioned, but now I don't really want to lose it... The constant battle between the image in my head and what comes out on the canvas. I wish I knew more what I was doing when it comes to the figure, on an anatomical/technical level. Should've paid more attention in figure drawing (or kept in practice after the class ended). I've been thinking I really need to start getting myself to the Hipbone every now and then.

In other news, I finally broke down and bought a roll of pre-primed canvas with my last Blick order. This is my first painting on it. No complaints so far, except that there's less procrastination I can get away with... Feels pretty heavy duty, so we'll see how it stretches when we get there.

On Femininity

2010-10-07T19:50:00.001-04:00

A friend of mine, who identifies along the transgendered spectrum, wrote in a recent piece that he intends to physically transition in the next year or so. I have been aware to some extent about his progress in that direction (and have a love and affection for him that is, as I have told him, "outside of gender," something I really can't say about anyone else I have known) but for some reason this timestamp, this statement that he's not just going to float about in the middle between genders, has thrown me for a loop.

I think it is because it comes crashing up against recent understandings I've come to have about my personal affiliation with femininity and its role in my artwork.

I've never considered myself particularly feminine. An only child to a father who I suspect would have been much more comfortable having a son, I was raised somewhat like a son. Not to say that he denied my being a girl, but we bonded via power tools. He is the reason that I have an extensive power tool collection today. My mother raised me pretty gender-neutrally as well -- I suspect that, in her mind, being a girl child equated to a very painful experience, so she was conscious not to pass that on.

Jump forward to the current day, my artwork is arguably one of my most feminine expressions of self. Lots of pink, and flesh, and sexuality. Looking at the subject matter itself, it's very much about the physical component of being female: female genitalia, breasts, the consequences inherent in a uterus (birth, cramps, blood). Only sometimes does it break past the purely physical into something bordering on societal: excessiveness versus voluptuousness (fat is a very culturally baggage-laden subject, especially where it intersects with the feminine); the binding or hanging of the flesh, which can be interpreted in a myriad of ways, whether gendered, relating to the 'human condition,' socio-economic, emotional, etc.

A work in progress. Ostensibly having to do with the heart, but just as much (for me, at least) about menstrual cramps and the sort of reoccurring, copious blood that is part of the female experience.
So now, mentally juxtaposing our two versions of femininity, my friend's and mine, I don't know what to make of it. His wardrobe is far more feminine than mine; my sense of femininity is mostly related to the anatomy over which I had no choice in being given. Like if you could blend us up and edit out the incongruous parts, we could be a 'complete woman' in both gender expression and biological senses.

Maybe I shouldn't make anything of it. Maybe that's the point of all this, to show me how irrelevant these culturally-loaded terms can become in the face of very real personal experience. How diverse personal experiences really are, and how insufficient language is to express them in their fullness and nuances.

But this friend of mine would probably have something to say about that -- he is a writer, after all.

Little synaptic sparks of memory

2010-09-02T06:11:00.000-04:00

I've had quite a surge of inspiration/impetus to paint lately, but of course, the nature of such things is that they ebb and flow, wax and wane. And now it has waned a bit (in part because I have new painting ideas, but must gesso more muslin to get started... puts the brakes on a bit).

Tonight, to fill the void of inspiration, and the time between coats of gesso, I've gone back to working on the second Hemlock Semiconductor commissioned painting. I feel like it's going in a really nice direction, one that I didn't have much trouble picking back up on even though it's been a little bit since I've touched it. Plus, I have to say I welcome the technical challenge of this one in particular. The transparency, slight waxiness, and internal structure of the quartz still has me baffled -- I'm currently just glazing layers of semi-transparent color and hoping that something strikes me. And the polysilicon ingots, though much more of a predictable geometric and solid shape, still make me think hard due to their changing angles and the sheen of their surface. I've always had a hard time with surfaces and sheens in paintings; all of my textures come out the same. But I'll be very surprised if I haven't improved that particular skill by the time this one's finished.

Blocking in the silhouettes of the furthest-back ingots, I got a memory flash of Charles Demuth's "My Egypt," which I once wrote a paper on for Art History class. Something about the current flatness and linearity of the ingots, and their shape, similar to grain silos, and the general verticality, I suppose. Clearly not very similar paintings, but the connection made me smile.

Charles Demuth: "My Egypt," 1927, oil on composition board, 35 3/4 x 30 inches

George Saunders on allegiance to one's style

2010-08-27T18:32:00.000-04:00

A writer-friend of mine, Casey Plett, turned me on to this project a classmate of his at Columbia is working on called The Days of Yore. It's a collection of interviews with various writers (and a few artists, musicians, etc., but mostly writers) about the days before they were famous/acclaimed and whatnot. It's fairly run-of-the-mill content-wise, but has this 'talking shop' feeling that is generally lacking from more public-interest type interviews. After all, it's writers talking to writers, so the combination of articulative skill and a deep connection with the creative process results in a pretty successful finished product. (I feel like I get more out of these writer-to-writer conversations than I would get out of an equivalent artist-to-artist interview specifically because of the skill of articulation that writers necessarily have... We visual artists are not necessarily the best of wordsmiths, let's admit it.)

Anyway, the most recent installment, interviewing George Saunders (who to be quite honest I've never heard of) included this statement, which struck me as being particularly relevant to my current style/subject shift: "...At any given moment, certain styles are going to seem more urgent and truthful. So the trick is not to get fossilized in something you’ve already done, out of some sense of allegiance to 'your' style."

In the most recent manic, figurative painting phase, I've been painting frantically at night, listening exclusively to Floater's Stone by Stone through headphones (headphones give a much more thoroughly insulated feeling than speakers in that they block out all ambient noise -- footsteps of A headed for the bathroom, dog nails across the wood floor -- and allow me to be contently straight-jacketed inside my own head), photographing the stages of each painting diligently, but otherwise avoiding looking at them. Especially in daytime. During nighttime, I've decided, my mind accesses this whole other part of itself, and the resultant mind-hand coordination is way more direct.

Not that it means I have any idea where it's going. That's the motivation behind not looking at the work except when I'm working on it. Trying to not second-guess myself. Trying to let my gut have its way with the world.

Toward a new figuration, I suppose.

2010-08-24T02:03:00.001-04:00

I may be working figuratively again. That is, if I wasn't already before...

I'm still not clear on the nomenclature regarding style in the art world. Does figurative mean that one's work necessarily involves the figure? (The human figure??) Is all other work dealing with things from reality simply representational? What about work dealing with things that don't necessarily exist in reality, but could? Is that surrealism, or is that an art-historical term reserved for Dali and crew? Perhaps it's a matter of capitalization, surrealism versus Surrealism.

Anyway, I may be painting ~~figuratively~~ works with people in them for the first time in quite a while. I've been having the urge to, but putting it off or denying it because "I don't paint figurative work." But I paint from my gut, so those urges are all I've got. If I can't listen to myself, that doesn't leave me with much.

Brick and blue: a studio palette

2010-07-19T02:35:00.000-04:00

The studio has been in some state of remodel/redesign since I moved in. No surprise there. Recently I've been working on pulling up the carpet (lots of carpet glue; slow work) and painting the floor, and generally making the space feel lighter and more finished. Hemming and hawing over colors...

For a while, sections have been a pretty strong yellow. "Butternut Squash." The thought was that, since it's a basement space with very little natural light, it needed some pretty intense color therapy to not be a depressing cave. But it turns out, it's just too overwhelming. Oppressively yellow.

Once again I start collecting paint chips. I have a whole ziploc baggie somewhere with probably a full pound of little cut out samples, but I have to start fresh for each project. This time around, the focus was mainly on blue... with a few samples of persimmon, coral (a color that's been on my mind for a while now).

The floor is going an almondy, warm white. Something bright, but not stark, with a satin finish. With only about a sixth of the floor (if that much) painted so far, it's already brighter, feels more like a legitimate space. But in need of color.

My attention has lingered frequently on the remnants of the old chimney that comes down through the middle of my space. My dad says remove it; it would open up the space so much more. And that's true, but there's something about it that I love. Between that and the dark, exposed beams, it becomes my own little (underground) New York warehouse art loft. (I've been looking for ways to restore it that don't involve caustic chemicals... have yet to find anything satisfactory.)

So, from there, I've come to a potential palette of antique brick and some sort of pale, warm or dusty blue. Not too primary, not too teal... something nuanced. Then, to Flickr for some inspiration in that vein:

Screenprinting for the DIY Bride - April 3rd

2010-03-27T00:36:00.000-04:00

I'm teaching a small hands-on workshop on silk screening your own wedding invitations, and there's still time to sign up!

Wedding costs can really add up, and invitations are no exception. In this class, you will learn how to use silkscreen printing to make your own hand-printed wedding invitations. Get exactly the invitations you want – at a fraction of the cost!

In the first part of this class, we will discuss materials. What do you need? What can you do without? Which corners can you cut and still get a good final product? And where can you get it all (plus, how much of it do you already have)?

In the second part, each participant will get hands-on experience with the entire printing process. You will leave with a variety of cards and sample invitations, the experience and confidence to start on your own wedding invitations!

I'll be bringing everything we need to start printing. Just bring your crafty self!

Saturday, April 3rd
12-3pm
Cost: $45.00

Contact the Portland Paper Zone to sign up: (503) 233-2933
1136 South East Grand Avenue
Portland, OR 97214

From Endings Come New Beginnings

2010-02-20T00:34:00.000-05:00

I finally finished my commissioned painting. After months of hemming, hawing, loving, hating, holding on too tight, procrastinating out of fear of messing it all up, and taking leaps -- and despite predictions to the contrary -- it's done.

And I made a video so you can see it come together!

But now there's the trepidation (and excitement, of course) of a new blank canvas.

Spring Cleaning & Truck Fund Sale!

2010-02-17T00:28:00.000-05:00

As I had mentioned previously, I'm again working on reorganizing, rearranging, and cleaning out my studio. An early spring cleaning to go with the early spring we're having 'round these parts.

Then this weekend, the transmission in my truck tried to jump ship entirely. So, 120 miles and a tow dolly later, it's in the shop until scrape together enough to have it repaired.

Both of those motives have resulted in a massive clearance sale of a ton of work from my student days! I've listed quite a few pieces on my Etsy storefront, and will keep doing so as fast as I can dig them out and get them photographed. Your chance to own a Carly Bodnar original at a steal!

Some of my favorites...

I'm also offering bulk discounts and reduced total shipping for purchases of more than one sale painting.

Plus, if you haven't been to my storefront in a while, be sure to check out the paintings and drawings that have resulted from my collaboration with New York City writer Casey Plett!

Oh, February, how you fly!

2010-02-12T15:21:00.000-05:00

February's been trucking along at full speed so far!

On Super Bowl weekend, I printed up a set of wedding invitations for a bride in Texas. They were a customization of my country sunset design, and involved a gradient that was making a little nervous, to be honest, but they came out great. I'll have full pictures in a few days on the Phaedra Paperie blog but til then, here's a little peek into the printing process.

Then, I got back to the work of remodeling/reorganizing my studio. I know it's been a long time since my Remodel: Part 1 post, but it's an ongoing process. My studio has vertical beams that run down the middle of the space, and the remnant of the house's original chimney, which makes it hard to make the most of the space. Boxes and piles have a tendency to collect along the dead space around the beams. So I took that area and turned it into a work surface with storage underneath. It's not yet what I would call clean, but now at least I have a well-lit place to do small paintings, drawings, pen and ink, etc. without having to clear a spot and sit on the floor.

Capping off the month so far, yesterday I had Kate from Katie Joy Photography over. She's an up-and-coming photographer who will be shooting her first wedding in only a couple of days, and just got a new camera. We know each other from our day jobs, but it was great to interact with her on a professional level. I needed some professional/head shot type photos, and I also wanted to get some action shots in the studio. We looked through a few, and they looked promising -- the studio shots especially looked great. I'm so excited to see all the shots!

February Goals

2010-02-05T17:10:00.000-05:00

Ok, so December wasn't a great month for getting things done, and January struggled a bit, too. But I pulled through at the end. (I'm including the first couple days of February as part of January, because it makes this list look a lot better.)

~~Submit to galleries that have January submission dates.~~ Done. Well, to one. The most important one. (There were two with January dates, and the other I'm not as into, so it's cool.)
~~Send image of HSC painting to client. Discuss money, shipping,~~ timelines, etc. Sent image and discussed money. Had previously talked about shipping, and touched on it again. Did not discuss timelines, because they're my nemesis.
~~Photograph valentines and get them out into the digital world.~~ Mostly done. Sunlight has been scarce, but I did get a good photo day right at the end of January. I sent out an email or two about them, and put them on my Etsy, but never did a big email, and still haven't blogged about them.
~~Make confirmations for Bridal Screenprinting class and~~ finish syllabus/materials list. Made confirmations -- the 27th of February at noon -- but still need to finish the actual work part.
~~Get laptop repaired.~~ Got a new laptop for what it would have cost to fix the old one! Yay!
Give my truck some love. An oil change, maybe a new turn signal light. I filled the air in the tires (much needed) but still need an oil change and a turn signal.
Finish sewing projects for other people that I've had sitting around for way longer than is reasonable. Apologize for keeping them so long. Not done. I'm a jerk.

Ok, enough with the half-hearted accomplishments. On to February's goals:

This month is going to be mostly about finishing things I've started. A bulleted list, in no particular order, will suffice:
- HSC Painting: gotta get it out of my studio
- Sewing: shirts
- Sewing: cushions
- Class planning: materials list, order materials, syllabus, assemble necessary bits
- Cards: blog about them, damnit... maybe do the card section of the website, too
- Knotical Invitation Suite: print it, photograph it, post it
- Gloriously Awash In Sin blog: post something, for crissakes
- Taxes: this requires me to make sure I've caught up on all my bookkeeping...
- I feel like I'm missing something... I'll add it when it hits me

A separate goal, but one that I hope will help the above, is to wear shoes when I'm working at home (as opposed to just being at home... ah, the challenge of trying to work and not-work in the same space). I've noticed that wearing shoes makes me more productive, perhaps solely for the fact that it keeps me from getting too comfy and curling up to nap on the couch. I wonder if that's just totally weird, or if other work-at-home-ers have found this out, too.

Inspiration for February

2010-02-03T18:22:00.000-05:00

My trainer posted this on her blog, but it has some seriously wide-ranging relevance. I'm taking it as my motivational/inspirational point for February.

I love what he says about talent versus skill, backup plans, being realistic, and obsessiveness.

Shipping Container Pipe Dream

2010-01-29T19:58:00.000-05:00

Raw and gravity-defying

I've really been digging shipping container construction lately. I like the aesthetic, industrial and sort of a la Brooklyn / Williamsburg artist warehouse lofts when it was still all rough, before the developers got ahold of it.

Actually made of shipping pallets and trailer homes, respectively.

I really like the aesthetic of the buildings by Infiniski, a company operating out of Spain and Chile. Their whole focus is on the re-use of materials... containers, pallets, etc. I love the way they maintain the aesthetic influence of the original material. Probably my favorite is their "Forest House" on their site (which is all flash, so I can't pull the image). Go look at it!

I also like Lot-Ek's CHK (Container Home Kit). Scalable and flexible, with lofts and catwalks to boot.

Lot-Ek's Puma Building. The front is very similar to their CHK design.

And I really love what Canadian Designer Kieth Dewey has done with his Zigloo home. He really maintained the industrial elements, even using chain link in the interior and salvaging stairs from another industrial building. Plus, he has an extensive photo gallery of various phases of building.

The Zigloo's front steps

Despite the quantity of imagery available, there seems to be very little in the way of how-to information. Shed and Shelter has a pretty good list of companies who actually do things related to shipping container (or ISBU: Intermodal Steel Building Units) construction, rather than individuals or small groups who have done one-time projects or experiments. I just found out Google Sketchup has a whole section on container housing. I'll probably be browsing that a lot...

But of course, lack of information hasn't kept me from designing my own dream studio made out of containers. Nowhere to put it yet, but hush, reality. Dream a little dream with me...

Way to go, paper!

2010-01-17T01:24:00.000-05:00

(Via Facebook --> Craftzine --> All About Papercutting)

(Via Zuzutop) Totally worth a click the the original article to see all of the amazing paper awesomeness!

Sneak Peek!

2010-01-14T19:33:00.001-05:00

Just a little sneak peek of something I've been working on for Phaedra Paperie...

January's coming along nicely. Some successful printing, a few wedding orders in the works, frequent lattes, and a new laptop in the mail. No complaints!