The Statement and the Wall

As content as I am to have written a statement that doesn't sound inflated or stupid, I've since realized it doesn't apply to all my work.  While that might sound like a big so what?, the realization disturbed me, as if it marks a problem with consistency or focus.  What it actually marks is a difference between my three- and two-dimensional work.  That difference, I now see, is between work that responds to the external world and work that is of my inner world.  The collages relate to my private narrative and sensibility while the sculpture is my social and political voice.  When my work lets go of the wall, it enters the world literally and metaphorically.  When it uses the wall as a support or an element, it stays home.  That form and content can so nicely align themselves without any conscious effort from me is part of the joy and miracle of being an artist.  My work knows more than I do, and it will tell me in its time if I bring myself to the process of making it with honesty and rigor, get out of the way, and have faith.

At the same time, I trust there's substantial overlap.  Writing a statement for the 2D work should bring it out, but just to take a stab at it now, I'd say that the sculpture is a public appeal that references the emotional content of the collages.  I'll leave it at that, but return to it soon.

The new Web site may be closer to completion than I thought.  I also reviewed my contribution to the upcoming issue of Ekleksographia this morning, so it's in the final stages of revision before release.  That's more incentive to get the Web site done.  Happily, I don't need it.  I'm finding myself energized and determined.  This sentence from Anne Truitt's exquisite, inspiring Daybook: Journey of an Artist ran through me like a current yesterday:  "It occurred to me that I could use the energy I had been putting into endurance to change my life."