Special notes reminds us

Pois                                               Sarah Brown, 2013

Robert Pois was not just any history professort; historians face a dichotomy of knowing and understanding for the human race that is both rewarding and a heavy burden; they carry our collective memory. He made sure you left his courses critically thinking, despite his topics and advanced scholarship on World War I. One summer day I visited him at his home. The visit was one of many, but this particular time he inscribed his book he wrote on WWI and gave me a copy of Waiting for Godot; maybe he was telling me not to wait?  On the day of my graduation, I remember how we were laughing and trying to pose for the photograph outside the history department building. I gave someone one of those old disposable film cameras. He has long been a person of encouragement, and this framed portrait of us sits on my work desk. Pois passed away in March of 2004. 

Thou Mayest, the inscriptions I have kept

Intimate notes inscribed on the inside of books are my new addition to my handwritten note series. I know I had titled the series Graphi, but am now realizing that as the body of work is "evolving," I must recognize that I still need to keep a list of possibilities. This list is also a resource at other times for some inspiration when I want to photograph or draw, but need some ideas to get started.

Thou Mayest                                            Sarah Brown, 2014

Many years ago, my childhood friend, Courtney, gave me this paperback of East of Eden. She was my dearest and closest confident for many years; she stayed with me for the initial weeks after my mother's death; she showed me the beauty of Sharpies; she had the best handwriting.  Her sentiment of Thou Mayest tells me of her unconditional love for me, and I am reminded that my friends from childhood are some of my most precious treasures. They know me.

Must Photograph for Personal Sanity: Graphei, new personal work

I just can't stop myself from photographing for personal sanity. After reading about the importance of Emotional Intelligence in the NY Times this morning, I can honestly type out that clicking the shutter, figuring out lighting, all that goes into producing a photograph (minus serious Photoshoping) is all  deep breathing for me. My son will say he relaxes when he plays piano for fun (not an instructional song) or tosses the baseball in his glove. We all have our preferred method.
Although artists will tell you, art producing can be agonizing. And it is; I have my fair share of frustration, jumping jacks, all out melt down regression. This is part of the process, but what I am talking about it the actual practice of the art, photography.

Today, the fast access has changed our social definition of photography. Did you capture with your iPhone, point-n-shot-, small DSLR, overpriced DSLR? Did you dig out that old Canon A2?
This is a form of practice. Yet, the act of photographing with the intention of a series or body of work is different because the assemble, the visioning, and attempts are all intertwined. The photographing is like taking a walk-slow, steady, and aware. This practice formulates from within, and bubbles from inside. I see inside out. No class can teach this-although I do have a curriculum written for a course. A willing and desire to travel down this path is part of my process.

This leads to my new work that is tilted Graphei.

Mother's Borscht Recipe and her explanation 

Amidst the digital ways we now communicate with one another, the intimate connection that something handwritten emits has lost favor; the act of writing is personal, takes time, attention, and a part of the author. Nothing illustrates this more than my mother's handwritten notes, my father's letters, inscription on the leaf of a book from those I once dearly loved, and family recipes. These handwritten objects seem immortal and in some way the only conversation that I can still have with the authors, like my mother. And it is the conversations, the exchange of love through words that are permanent in a reality that is impermanent. Graphei, the Greek word for handwritten, is a series of ongoing work that explores the fading commonality of  handwritten words, the design of letters, the character of paper, the sentiment of the context, and a small peak into my personal world of these emotional conversations. 

Late Thursday Confession

I am back in full swing in the final semester of the MLIS program. For the past few weeks, I have been working at Florida Atlantic University in their Special Collections and Archives department and enjoying the exposure to the specialty of Special Collections. One of my research project is processing part of the University Archives Sports Photography. This has been one of those fun projects that is over seen by the Special Collections Librarian, who has been an great mentor already. I lucked out big time.

My research entails the process of exhibits. When we see an exhibit in a library, museum, or gallery, extensive planning sometimes starting years in advance is involved in what you view. My work with the Norton is a year long planning process that the public won't see until 2014. I was just commissioned for an exhibit in 2015! So, the process leading up to an exhibit also depends on how the collection or work is stored. If art work of any medium is stored improperly, it won't last. Bugs, what they leave behind, moisture can all reek havoc on art. As I am going through the housed Collection, I am looking for condition issues, negatives that need to be sleeved, and subject matter to be collated. This is the origination of an exhibit.

My Office for the next 10 weeks

If you are in Houston, be sure to catch this exhibit

I openly admit that one of my quirks is loving paper; throw in some wet transfer process with some emulsion and, I am captivated. Holy cow this exhibit just couldn't get me more chatty. Look at the paper folds; the stamps; the handwriting; the house. Something that seems incomplete often is just a perspective. Her use of the negative space is smart and shows she was thinking on multiple levels. Positive negative linear and incomplete, the folds make your eye move; then fixate on the house. A space we all identify with.

Catherine Couturier Gallery in Houston is showing a San Fran based photographer, Rachel Phillips. Her series entitled Field Notes is just lovely. This one above is my favorite.

Grocery List, Laundry List, and the Internship

Lots has been in the news about internships. I have some opinions, both positive and constructive. Yet. the one important fact that can not be overlooked is the relationships that develop out of face to face interaction. I love that I can ask those theory questions, inquiry about hands on work, and begin some new thoughts on how to process information.

I have started a new internship. I hope to comment on this experience while I go through it and have some wonderful conclusions or epiphanies.

And here I sit,

Where is the feminist voice in our art world? My Thursday Confession

Seriously, every time I think I have this clarity on where I fall in this postmodernist/feministic place, I find that I am still back there somewhere. Am I a feminist in a postmodern era or a modernist in a post feminist society? I feel this floating is not without merit; where is the feminist voice in our art world? Perhaps this is nothing more than equality, but how does this influence women? In my flux of unwanted wondering if I was a feminist or not, I went to Lucy Lippard's writings for answers. She has been a voice of significance since I lived in Santa Fe. She has a way of connecting dots about the constant go between of art and life and back to art.

What does the work of a feminist look like? Is it the artist, who has declared her feminism, produce work that inherently is feministic or is it the art illustrating feminism that make an feministic artist. Depends on your perspective just isn't satisfying my query. And, I think, much of this confusion is because we have stopped talking about the fundamental stones of feminism. We need to reconvene in this conversation. Lean In can not be our pinnacle of conversation, though at least Sandburg has brought some focus back to the topic despite her disconnect with many of the struggles of women today.  We are still underpaid and, sorry, but that glass ceiling has not broken. Metaphorically, women have been "welcomed" into the board room, but gender bias is still alive and well.

Wonder what Lippard would say?

This week my art confessional is Lippard's book: The Pink Glass Swan. Yes, it's been almost a decade since the first edition, but who else has such insight with the except of Guerrilla Girls?