free to be

October is here and with it, (like last year), I'm traveling a fair amount. First Austin and then Nashville, with just a week in between. Two places I've never been and have always wanted to go, and I'm looking forward to both. 

I've also begun a photography course, 5 weeks, three hours a pop. And I've signed up for a photo workshop in the beginning of November with a photo hero. Admittedly enthusiastic, I signed up before I read all the ingredients of the workshop and while I'm scared/intimidated/freaking out, I'm also excited.

All of this class-taking, (the writing workshop included), has created movement. Momentum was what I sought and worked towards. By nature I'm anxious and impatient and have yet to embrace the slow and steady without a lot of, 'here I am again, way too inside of my head...'

I think about the conversation I had last year, and I see now that the paralytic spell that held me captive was a slow simmer. My way of accumulating and working towards a body of work that means something, even though I'm still unclear exactly what that meaning is.

This is where I struggle: giving a name to my work. In the fine art world, there is no way around a general artist statement, the tell of who I am as an artist. And then there's the individual statement that accompanies each project; a narrative that isn't too descriptive, (because that's obvious), but is descriptive enough without being too verbose. 

My current artist statment exists in a soft-covered Moleskine, a lot of notes and lists interspersed with a few insightful paragraphs that have me still confronting a homework assignment that is no where near an edition that feels comfortable, forget about right.

The good news for me is that despite my inability to be specific about myself right now, I have broken through to the other side. I'm not letting my artist statement hold me hostage any longer. I know I'll get there, it no longer has its hold on me; a self-inflicted tether disguised as something else.