Sometimes That Is What Life Is

Originally Posted Monday, July 8, 2013

Rather than driving to the beach yesterday, I decided to take a long walk and then work on some new projects in the studio.  On the long walk, I took my Holga camera to use up a roll of film so I could develop it in the "instant film juice" that I've been lackadaisical about playing with.  I snapped up the twelve frames on the roll pretty quickly and I decided that I would walk with a camera every day and take a roll of film.  Why not?  I began thinking of what I might do with other materials.  I wanted to print up some of the surfer series to make into encaustic pieces.  Why I've never done it is a mystery to me.  I would buy some newsprint and run it through the ink jet printer and take the print outside to see if it will yellow and crack the way real newspapers do.  If they look the way I hope, they will find their way into some encaustic work, too.  After running the film through the "instant film juice," if I liked the results O.K., I would load some b&w film into the Black Cat Liberator and shoot some film to process in trays, too.  This is key for me to working with the big cameras.  If I can through them into the sauce and not have to send them off to be developed, I will shoot more of that.  Lastly but most importantly, I would mix up the seemingly secret formula to coat onto clear sheets that would run through the inkjet and then transfer onto just about anything without dangerous solvents.  I couldn't wait. 

After the walk, I showered and went to breakfast.  I think I am tired of the greasy spoon.  It was not as thrilling as it used to be.  I even passed on a trip through the record/book store next door as I was in a hurry to get to the art supply store.  Of course, I got what I needed and a bunch more.  I bought multimedia paper and boards, thinking of some mock ups for encaustics I wanted to do, and getting antique gum as well (Black Jack and Teaberry). 

Then I remembered I wanted to go to the Asian market to buy a red paper light shade and red paper parasol.  And again, of course, I found other things, too.  I chatted with the women who owns the store and she should me things that I could not find.  Yes, yes, all in preparation. 

Afterwards, I went back to the house to get the hard drive to take to the studio.  I looked for the one with the surfer images on it.  I don't have my drives marked, so I would put one in, look around at all the old images that I have made that thrill me to see not finding the surfer file, then another drive, then another. 

And then it was mid-afternoon.  Shit.  Suddenly gripped with panic, another day slipping by (I had to be at my mother's for dinner at six), I rushed to the studio to do all things. 

Doing all things is impossible. 

I made developer.  I cooked up the secret transfer jizz.  I tried running newsprint through the printer.  No matter what I tried, however, I kept getting a paper error message when I sent an image to print.  Why?  I kept feeding it back in, trying another setting, but it was no go.  The film came out of the instant film juice very thin and weak.  ????  And after coating the clear sheets with the transfer jizz, I realized I wasn't sure how to transfer the image onto anything. 

And it was time for dinner.  I had accomplished nothing.

And that is my creative life in a page.  After four days off, I must return to the factory where the imagination will be beaten out of me quickly.  I am ready to go back to the studio and work all day on what I began yesterday.  That is how an artist works.  Trial, error, then, eventually. . . success.  You should see the big beautiful images I have in mind.  So should I.  I need to get them out of my head and into the world.  Such big, beautiful things. 

Like the girl in today's picture.  I barely did any processing on this one.  It has been sitting on a drive for a while now.  This woman is beautiful. She looks like an archetypal mother/lover.  Pictures can fool you that way.  That is why I love them. 

I don't want to do what I have to do now. . . but you gotta.  Sometimes that is what life is. . . just one fucking thing after another.