Ok, It might not be the most useful how-to video you've ever seen. But it can't be the worst. And it's only the beginning!!! And surely it's useful to affirm that you can indeed use picture frames as a square, right?
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Check out this gorgeous (sawdust-scented---priceless) soap that Don made. It is a laser scan of the MCAD 3D shop. He then 3D printed a model, made a Urethane mold from it, and made glycerine soap from his old handyman book! Incredible! What's inside the soap you ask? The world may never know. Or we might tell you later.
Jess here. With some opinions that no one asked for. For folks I've been talking to, my colleagues within academia, and my students, last week was a rough one. That seemed to be the point that everyone reached, and many surpassed, their tipping point. Everyone has their limits for fatigue and stress with with a healthy dose of uncertainty and change.
Here is the thing I am thinking about a lot: You are not your productivity. There are a lot of folks writing intelligently on the subject, here's a start: Against The Insufferable Cult of Productivity (The New Republic, Poole, 2013) Quarantine Doesn't Suck for Everyone, Apparently (Mic, Duncan, 2020) I realize that in the middle of pursuing a degree (as many of you are), there is work to be done. A lot of it, and much of it is non-negotiable. More pointedly, for everyone, in isolation or not: there is money to be made--because you know, rent and food. Non-negotiable. It bears acknowledging that just having the safe space and time to consider these things is a class privilege. But please, dear reader, fellow maker and human, bear in mind that work is not your whole life or your whole identity. That making things, that being in art school, is not "job training" or a production imperative. Making things--whatever those things may be---is a pursuit of connection to each other and the world. A way to sort through and share the unnameables. The process should be aligned more with pleasure and uneasy play than with torment. This is a hard thing to keep close as the stress of the end of the semester mounts. But it is worthwhile, and that acceptance may even help accomplish what needs to be accomplished. But beyond that, let's remember that this isn't the time for a self-improvement overhaul. Perhaps it is more a time to reimagine a world that we want to inhabit on the other side of this. How do we want our lives to look? How should our relationship with "work", with our practice, with each other, with our systems, change? Remember, whatever the "this" is, This too shall pass. For better and worse. In the meantime, here is some Aidy Bryant: Aidy Bryant's Childhood Journal Part of my sanity regiment, in or out of isolation, is consuming. I am not producing what I would like to be (see? The cult is insidious. Unlearning is a long process) so I am collecting content. I've been watching the Wynonna Earp series (amazing queer, sci-fi, western). I've been reading N.K. Jemisin's Inheritance Trilogy (black, feminist, fantasy-almost-romance novels. incredible) and Ocean Vuong's On Earth We Were Briefly Gorgeous (most beautiful book I've read in a long time---queer poetics, mother/son narrative, Vietnamese immigration story). I'm also trying to remind myself of my physical presence in the world. Turning off my screens and making moves with my hands. Folding laundry, patching cracks, screwing things together. Falling in love with tin foil and saran wrap. What are you reading and watching? Are you falling in love? What do you need that you aren't getting? Wishing you some real quiet and a good laugh, Jess
We have recently partnered with Nordeast Maker Space www.nordeastmakers.com/ to 3D print face shields to go to healthcare workers in the community. We've been able to set up some of our smaller printers in their temporary homes and they are happily printing away.
Our beautiful (if eerily and appropriately quiet) shop. Can you spot us?! This is for artists, writers, makers. People trying to survive in the world. For anyone who needs it. Starting this blog has been hard. Everything has been hard. Firstly, things are hard because of the strange dystopia that we are living in, due to a global pandemic and the extreme economic and racial inequity of our support systems. Here in Minnesota, by March, everyone (everyone) is deeply depressed anyway because winter is too long and too dark and that one gorgeous day made you think it was over. And then the snow returns. The pandemic has led to a global extreme of this collective depression. April is, indeed, the cruelest month. I am one of the privileged few who is still connected to my social and professional communities, my home is safe and comforting, and my partner and I have enough space that we can have time apart when we need it. Probably most important, I am still taking home a paycheck. Nevertheless, not having our rhythms and access to the spaces we normally make in is incredibly difficult. It is particularly tough if you are in the position of developing an art practice. This is a new kind of a crisis for everyone. And when we have no stories to look to, it's hard to make a plan for ourselves. So I have been seeking out and reaching back to find stories. I've been doing this art making thing a long while. And it isn't pretty a lot of the time. I'm vocal. I'm good at asking for help--and my art crises tend to cycle even though I can't see it. Over the years, I've gotten a lot of good (and bad) advice from folks that I love and trust that are also trying to put things into the world, forge paths, and remake oppressive systems. I will start with advice from my dear friend, Lauren, also known in my family as Lahz (Lahz Dog, or Zah Zah). Lahz was writer, an English Professor, an all around adventure, party gal. She was a great many things, but for our purposes, I'm going to stick with: she was wise. She guided me through many a crisis and I am certain that you, dear reader, in your own crises (ever-prevalent, art-related and otherwise), could use some of her advice right now. “The New York Times says to make your bed every morning” It gives you a little sense of accomplishment as you start your day. Make your bed and you've earned the right to feel smug all day no matter what happens next. “Put that art on notice!” Don’t let your art practice be an abusive relationship, one that makes you feel like shit 80% of the time, but that other 20% is so good you stay anyway. You are in control, and if your current practice has you down, makes you question your self-worth, ditch it and try something else. There are plenty of fish (practices) in the sea. If it shapes up you can come back after a bit and reorient. You deserve better. “Making art is giving gifts.” Lahz was my long-time editor (which is why this blog post won’t be as short, or as good as it could have been). A few years ago, I wrote a collection of texts and I sent them to her because I knew they weren’t right but couldn’t figure out why. She said they read like that AA step where you call the people you’ve wronged and ask for atonement. They were self-serving. When people experience art, they want “gifts”. Often those gifts are insights. We have to be honest and personal and vulnerable in order to make those gifts connect with their recipient, but asking your viewer for absolution or a pat on the back isn't fair. It's not what they're here for. Take really good care of your dog: Lahz said owning a dog is a “civilizing force”. It makes you make plans, go to the grocery regularly, and go for walks. I AM NOT SUGGESTING YOU GET A DOG. Think about your art practice as your dog--take care of it, every day, whether you want to or not. Sometimes it will be the bare minimum, and when you can, pamper it. It needs you. Be your own best boyfriend: If you had the most considerate boyfriend you can imagine, what would he do for you? He would cook you a fabulous meal. He would not judge you for needing to lay on the couch for a day. He would tell you that you are being too hard on yourself and that you are a great artist, you just have to keep going (and that you are way sexy) and he would mean it. Be your own best boyfriend. Take social distancing seriously: Lahz came home from London and fully quarantined for the full two weeks. She listened through the window to her favorite 3-year-old sing a song about hugging her because she couldn't actually hug her. She ditched her new sidepiece because he wanted to break the social distancing rules to make out. She found other ways to connect. She used the rules as a way to stretch elsewhere and set boundaries. Throw yourself a Jimmy Buffet party: Due to aforementioned social distancing, many of our social support systems are broken. We need to find new ways to entertain ourselves--this is part of a creative practice as much as anything. Lahz, in this case, threw herself a Jimmy Buffet party. She turned the heat way up, projected a live stream of a Jimmy Buffet concert onto a sheet, made rum cocktails, wore a sailor hat and bikini, and invited folks to “drop in” digitally at their leisure. Late that night she sent me a text laughing about “so many white people enjoying themselves” and a parrot emoji. Make versions of this in your life and follow through. All the way. Do it often. Keep it short: “Keep it short. People hate to read.” -Jess |