I just learned that I cannot access The Studio from my mobile device. So this means that a brick and mortar location in space and time will be shared with my virtual 'space' to work. I have a desktop computer, an iMac. That computer, the one I am typing this message with is a result of money I saved from working, tax returns and gift money from my aunt. I am thinking of it as a gallery/work space as if it were in downtown New York City at the heart of the artworld. I live in Ohio but I have made many pilgrimages to different sites of 'originals' by great or well-known artists. I have combed through books and books of images from the like of Dali, Kokoshka, Miro, Rembrandt, DaVinci, Michealangelo, Raphael, Dante (imaginations through words), William Blake, Van Gough, Lynch, Trent Reznor, Richard D. James, Francis Bacon, Socrates, Aristotle, Heraclitus, Mearleau-Ponty, Husserl, Heidegger, Foucault, KMFDM, the sun, the moon, the stars, Gallileo, Newton, Einstein, and on and on and on.
This is just a place for me to work out my insprirations and not worry about spell check and just work. It is my studio. I invite you in if you are reading this as this is online though as of this date very few people are aware of where my studio is, how to find it, what it means, I mean, even I am working out what it means. But it is about process. All those names I named didn't all do imagery per se but they had vision. Okay in re-reading this some of those weren't even people as with the sun and so on. But that's not the point. FYI and FMI (for my information) it is so liberating to type in a space where everything isn't populated for me, where spell check and type correction isn't always kicking in, where I can write again, just me without the impedence of the stricture aspect of technology. Back to the list though. They inspired me. The list could go on and on and would if I were like my good acquaintance Catherine Wild who I think has been like a Gertrude Stein to me. I do not even quite know what I mean by that but it feels right to say.
My work is coming back from the depths of a real hell. Hell does not even describe it. I lost all connection with the human miracle. It's going to be tough to work here I think because I don't feel at liberty to be brutally honest because there is a store front window so to speak to this gallery/workspace.
(pause for a viewing of the film The Book Thief)