Did I not post these? I forgot to post these! I created these five large sumi ink paintings in January for the group show: Wavelengths, at GR2 in Los Angeles. I kept these simple, just sumi ink on watercolor paper.
“Five more Minutes”
“Coil”
“Curl 2”
“Dark Matter”
“Fog”
P.S. Hi Fructose wrote a little blurb about the show here (!).
First things first: tomorrow, Tuesday Oct. 14th, Never debuts in Seattle on the big screen! Back in 2012, I helped create a T-shirt design and poster/cover for the film.
9:15 PM
@SIFF Cinema Egyptian
801 East Pine Street, Seattle, WA 98122
Get your ticket(s) here: http://slgff.strangertickets.com/films/17910552/never
From the Facebook page:
Never is the story of Denim (Zachary Booth), a twenty-something who moves to Seattle and falls in love with a struggling, gay singer-songwriter named Nikki (Zelda Williams). And as their resulting friendship blossoms and complicates, it will challenge and redefine their understanding of love and modern relationships.
Second things second: Wednesday, Oct. 15th is opening night for my new show, Stargazing, at Solo Bar, 200 Roy St., Suite 104, Seattle. Yay! If you’re in the area, do drop on by!
Third in news: for the first time, I’m participating in the Inktober challenge! This involves simply (hah!) creating one ink drawing each day for the month of October. I’ve been using a brush and ink in my new toned-paper sketchbook (I love it so!), and mostly doing the drawings around 10 – 11pm, before crawling into bed, but for 12 days now I’ve pretty much kept to it, and I’m pretty proud of them.
You’ll notice I don’t have all the drawings up – that’d be a little image heavy. I have, however, been uploading them to my Instagram account. 🙂
Okay, that’s all for now, but I’ll be back soon! Thanks for sticking with me!!
Had an interesting encounter this morning.
While outside with my coffee photographing new work for the show at Solo bar. Rolled out of bed 10 minutes ago. Cigarette in my pocket to smoke before going back up inside.
An older gentleman walks past, then backtracks to have some words. Short, kind, eyes locked on mine. Offers some advice. Takes a few minutes trying to remind me of a certain painting, which I eventually deciphered as “the Scream” by Munsch. “The Shout? It’s famous. It’s like this” – he holds a pantomime speakerphone up to his… ear, opening his mouth wide and staring at me, waiting to get the connection. It looks nothing like the painting. There are two kinds of art. He says. Art like that, and then art like mine. “That dark, tortured art. Then yours. Yours is the art of flowers” he says. I accept the compliment. Then he goes on:
“I live in the world of light. Do you?”
I nod, I guess, agreeing that my work is of a different flavor than, well, the “Scream.”
“I try” I say.
“You. You try. I live.” He replies, slowly. Meaningfully. Repetitively. “That’s the difference. I live fully in the light. May I?” He kneels down with me – until now I’ve been squatting on the sidewalk, shuffling through the large watercolor sheets, and he bends down to spread out my artwork. Not very carefully, I notice – but I relax and let him look.
“Japanese,” he says, nodding. “This is nice, the hands, the drawing…” but his finger goes up to the shock of black hair hiding an otherwise naked and splayed out figure – “Why are you hiding? What are you hiding from?” He spreads out the other pieces I have – five in all. “In all these pictures you’re looking away. Why aren’t you facing the light?”
I cringe. “I hide the face for many reasons” I say. I wasn’t expecting an art critique so shortly after dragging myself out of bed. I start spitting out a short list, automatic, robotic:
“A lot of my work is like this. I’m interested in nakedness, and tattoos, and revealing and covering what we choose. By leaving out the face I add some anonymity – and the less you show, the more likely you are going to connect to the figure. It could be someone you know. I think we decide really quickly what we love and what we don’t by getting caught up in the details. Without a face the piece is more approachable, and there’s an invitation to help be a part of this story. I think it is entirely up to us to show what we want – I think it’s really interesting that you feel personally cheated … Blah, blah blah… art school jargon is still spilling out of my mouth when I’m interrupted.
“Slow down.” I now realized he had old ears – “Slow down, give me a chance to get a taste of your ideas.” I got excited there for a moment, listening to myself talk and actually, just talking to myself – and forgot he was even listening. Or maybe, surprised that he was trying. This guy is big into eye contact and pointing and speaking slowly, so that his wisdom can fully penetrate my young, eager ears.
“I was a waiter for 30 years.” He says, meaningfully.
“A what?” I heard writer, or reader, or, I dunno.
“A waiter.” He enunciates. I agree, that’s a great profession. A very important and rewarding job. One that I actually really loved. I was one for seven. So?
“So I know people. And you’re hiding something. What are you hiding from? I live in the light.” Here he opens his arms wide in a gentle shrug, gesturing towards all of the glory of the surrounding shrubbery. “I’m a spiritual man. I live for family, for God, for light. Why are you hiding from that? Why don’t you show yourself? Why not open yourself up?”
I’m being patient, but I’m kind of ruffled, despite myself. I feel like he thinks I owe him something.
“This is you.” He points at the art, then at me. “This. Is. Where. You. Are.” Slow, full of intention, and I nod slowly, impatient. My feet are right here. Can’t you see that I’m right here? I blurt:
“You know, I could make something that is pretty, idealistic, just like a fairytale” – I also gesture to the square hedges – and here I reveal my jaded, dead soul – “but I’m not interested in that.” I pause. Trying to match his slow pace. “I’m interested in tension. In imperfections, in reality.” I’m imagining his idea of art being full of rainbows and Caucasian children dancing in an open field of flowers. With birds. Yeah. And butterflies. And sunbeams. That’s not fair to him. And that could be an awesome painting. Wow. What is wrong with me?
I’m irritated. I’m about to lose my cool. I’m ready for that cigarette and for going back up to the studio to get some work done. Why would he say these things to me unless he thought I were an anti-family, anti-light, cowardly heathen? Why am I suddenly so defensive? It’s okay, I can win this with logical, Buddhist non-dualistic theory! Instead, this comes out of my mouth:
“By saying that, I feel like you’re implying that I don’t, and that I’m not. I don’t need to hear this from you.” Now I’m feeling I should have politely excused myself a while back. I start to gather my things, but it’s clear he’s not ready to leave. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s making me uncomfortable.
“I’m not an artist” he starts. “It’s clear that you have skill. But the hiding – it makes me curious.” Okay. Fine. “Curiosity is good.” I say. “Curiosity.”
He reaches out his hand, and I go in for a handshake, because I’m a lady, but he’s going for the fist bump. Then he attempts a cool handshake with me. I give up.
He repeats his name, points out his apartment building, and then, like I need it, says “I love ya!” – nudging me on the shoulder. He finally leaves. I’m still cooling down. I gather my things, shakily set stuff by the outside door, and am confused. Once I’m sure he’s gone, I light my cigarette and after a few breaths whisper, “thank you.”
“Thank you,” because in those moments following I realized I was really upset. Something about this encounter poked me in an uncomfortable way and stirred up a lot of anger.
I get offended because I feel patronized.
I have a fierce ownership over the meanings in my art, and am still surprised and dismayed when I feel they’ve been interpreted so differently than I intended.
And then, sickeningly, I’m grateful. Though not how he intended, I see this man as a teacher. Which I hate! I waited and listened to him politely for a deal longer than what I’ve recorded, and what for? To keep him comfortable. What the fuck.
I consider myself a diehard feminist. And through my drawings of women I’m able to step back as a bystander and observe how viewers interact with, granted, a representation of a woman. People will say things about art that they wouldn’t face to face with a person, and sometimes their concerns, frankly – concern me. I hear, “vulnerable” “fragile” “hiding” and get all defensive, perhaps because I feel like those descriptors are seen in a negative light. Who’s to say what’s to be shown, and to be covered?
I don’t always have time to explain that I was raised religiously, that I have bodily shame and guilt that comes from a conservative upbringing, but also have an amazing Mama who always encourages looking inside for the truth, in trusting your gut, and in seeing beauty in yourself. I draw self portraits, and used to disguise them better, but am starting to realize, who cares? I feel like these are the most revealing parts of myself. So I get defensive when criticism is unexpected and not what I’d like. It’s entirely of my volition that I put these out into the world. It’s an offering to the insanely massive dumping ground of art and self-expression that we’re all dropping bits into. My simplest answer to the question of “why?” is: I just want to make something pretty. I know it sounds trite. But I’m leaving space for you to make that up for yourself.
The Seattle Erotic Art Festival is almost here! This year it’s being held at the Seattle Center Exhibition Hall, and the days and hours are as follows:
Friday, May 30th – 5pm – 2am
Saturday, May 31st – 12pm – 2am
Sunday, June 1st – 10am – 4pm
I’m so excited to say that I’ve had two pieces accepted into the juried art show: “Blush 3” and my favorite from the series, “Blush 5.” They’re both for sale, but honestly, I’ll be rather sad to see them go.
detail from “Blush 3”
Detail from “Blush 5”
Ooh! Did you notice? I also got to help with the design of the official poster! This year’s theme is “Reveal” so I chose to go with the themes of unfurling, and seeing. Here are some of the initial sketches. 
Yay! I hope to see you there!!
I’m so pleased to be taking part in this invitational group show at Gallery Nucleus, in Alhambra, California:
Terra: Artwork Inspired by Nature
March 29, 2014 – April 13, 2014
Mar 29, 7:00PM – 10:00PM
Here is the piece I shipped down to the gallery – “Soil” – watercolor, 7×10.”
“From the forces that gift us with sunshine and curse us with storms to the countless creatures that roam sky, earth and sea, from the plants that provide us with breath and life to even the tiniest of organisms yet to be discovered, we are surrounded by Mother Nature at every moment. Nucleus presents an exciting group of diversely skilled artists that have come together to create a compelling collection of work that celebrates the harmonious existence of all things that live, breathe, and even photosynthesize. This visually stunning exhibition features a variety of media from a global roster of inspiring talent and urges us to connect to the beauty, power and balance within the natural world. ” (Gallery Nucleus)
Exhibiting Artists:
Alex Louisa
APAK
Brooks Shane Salzwedel
Christina Mrozik
Corinne Reid
Edward Kinsella
Erica Williams
Frank Gonzales
Hannah Yata
Jan Huling
Joshua Harker
Junyi Wu
Karina Eibatova
Katherine Brannock
Kikyz1313
Laura Bifano
Linda Kim
Mab Graves
Michael Brown
Otto Björnik
Natasha Durley
Richard Kirk
Sam Yong
Sean Avery
Stasia Burrington
Teagan White
Vikki Chu
Yellena
Zoe Poster
(Oh my god! Some incredible artists here! I feel so honored to be showing with them! …And intimidated… oh, don’t tell anyone)
Here are some other small paintings I’ve done recently – I took a small break from work this last month to spend some time in Montana with my sister, brother-in-law and brand new nephew (!), who I’m head-over-heels in love with. Needless to say, I didn’t get much done. But we were able to sneak in a little time to play around with watercolor pencils! 
“Spring”
“Little Garden”
“Two Peonies” 
stasia's studio 