Friday 14 October 2011

vocabulary

graffiti, charlottetown - ml 2011
For a small town, there is an awful lot that goes on in Charlottetown.  A friend of mine had a couchsurfer staying with her last night, and in the space of just a few hours we all went to Pecha-Kucha style talks at the library about sustainability, and then had mad group art-making at the bi-monthly City Nights event.  The theme of the night was 'meat,' so several of us collaborated on a rather hilarious cardboard slaughterhouse, complete with blood splatters, a pasture and miniature cows.  Hopefully the resolve of the vegetarians in the group was only strengthened by the experience :)  
You can watch a short video from a previous City Nights here

celebrate - ml 2011

This past spring I decide to venture into the world of video, naively thinking "oh, this will be fun and relatively easy!"  Since then I've been engaged in a mighty stand-off with video-editing software, and we had reached a stalemate until a gifted filmmaker friend graciously took the time to show me the many, many ropes of Final Cut Pro. 


The experience of struggling through a new medium had me thinking a lot about vocabulary.  It seemed to be the main reason I was having trouble - because I didn't understand the terms.  Perhaps that is the essence of understanding a new concept/language/process - building a vocabulary.  For instance, when the categories/terms of body, mind, and spirit were first used, it wasn't that the actual experience was new, it was that now there was vocabulary to help us understand it.  And that new vocabulary allowed for abundant growth and change to happen in human consciousness.  I wonder if, with all the rising tides, both literal and metaphorical, that we're faced with right now, if maybe what we really need is a new way of understanding what is happening; a new vocabulary.  Just a thought...


"There is no inevitability as long as there is a willingness to contemplate what is happening. "  - Marshall McLuhan

Wednesday 5 October 2011

being at home in a storm

seating at Saint-Germain-des-Prés - monica lacey 2011
I've noticed an interesting phenomenon lately when I meet new people:  we introduce ourselves, exchange a bit of small talk, and then when we come to the what-do-you-do-in-life question and I say I'm an artist, the response is, "really?  Like a working artist?  You do that as a job?"  This response is usually accompanied by a facial expression that is a mix of wonder and disbelief, as though I've just announced I am actually a unicorn.  Sometimes I wish that I had begun my professional career as an artist earlier in life, mainly so that I didn't feel such urgent pressure to 'get somewhere,' now that I'm in my thirties.  Mainly though, I'm thankful for the decade or so that I spent doing other jobs that didn't really mean anything to me, because it gives me perspective, and helps me to be empathetic when these people I meet follow their incredulity with, "I always dreamed of being an artist!" or, "I went to art school years ago, but I didn't pursue it."  It also makes me incredibly thankful for the people I met along the way who encouraged me and inspired me to dig deep and find the courage to commit to this path. 

It hasn't been easy to work lately, as I've just moved into a new apartment with my partner Devon, but I did manage to get a submission sent to Papirmasse, and I was honoured to have two of my photos accepted!  Papirmasse is a really neat subscription-based art-in-the-mail operation where you get art and writing sent to you each month.  You can see my issue here, and I did an interview with them as well.  I also have a mixed-media piece in the Dark Arts themed show (up until November) at GGGallery in Charlottetown.   

sunflowers, montparnasse - monica lacey 2011
As I write this, Hurricane Ophelia is doing her act outside my window, all dramatic gestures of flung branches and sideways rain.  The storm has me feeling both agitated and thoughtful so I'm listening to the Lost in Thought playlist on Stereomood.  Although we returned to PEI in June, it only feels just now like we've fully arrived, now that we have a home of our own, where we can stay as long as we like.  I'm looking forward to getting my studio set up and to get cracking on the extra-large canvas I just ordered.  Oh but it's good to be home.