Pick Me
January 20, 2009 04:00 AM
Well here it
is - "Pick Me," the first, fully
completed project of 2009! ...Pst, I started it
late 2007, but don't tell anyone! Actually, it
would be accurate to call this a reincarnation, as
the project looked rather different when I first
addressed it. I wasn't content (really, not even
close to pleased) with the initial direction. My
mind must have been exhausted then, as I could
think only of Adam & Eve and my current work
with silhouettes. So, naturally, I cut out a
silhouette of myself as if I were reaching upward
for an apple, and stitched it on there. That was
it. My indifference conjures images of a glue
stick-wielding-kid ripping images from magazines,
slathering them with stickiness and slapping them
to any surface available, without thought for
composition, texture, atmosphere...etc. This piece
wasn't meant to be so straightforward and BORING.
So I hammered a nail into my wall, placed the thin
branch upon it, and left it hanging there for
months and months. Haunting me, mocking me,
teasing me...so cruel it was (Yoda talk is
allowable at 3AM). Finally, an idea came to me.
And another. As is my customary way of creating, I
jotted down these ideas, visualized them, and then
let them dance in my mind...for many more months.
Whilst they pranced about, new thoughts developed,
others were shed, challenges were addressed, and
plans were made to see this piece come to a new
realization. And so it began:
First, the fabric is silk. Silk, as most anyone would know or assume, DOES NOT LIKE SPRAY PAINT. Not one bit. Unfortunately, I lost my mind for a few minutes this past summer, and attempted to spray the apple pattern on this gorgeous kimono remnant. I immediately realized my error, as I watched the paint attempt to escape its prison and bleed beyond the boundaries:
But wait! …It stopped. No...no...NO! Now it's wrinkling...ah!...what's it doing now?! ...Oh no. *touches fabric* - stiff as cardboard. Crap!
It was horrific, really. Witnessing the death of a once smooth and flowing surface. Like gears in motion suddenly halted because someone has thrown a wrench into the works, my heart momentarily stopped and my mind panicked. My hands responded, pulling that wrench free and tossing it away. Wheels are in motion again. There's always another way! The solution? A stamp. Of course. Thank you, Betsy Bannan, for introducing me to Speedy Stamp Blocks! From there on out, "Pick Me" was quite enjoyable to piece together.
And it came together. Bit by bit, a day here, another there. It may have taken an absurd amount of time, but it is complete.
Pick Me:
iPhone or Blackberry? - Apple says, "pick me!"
Coke or Pepsi? - Coke spouts, "pick me!"
Obama or McCain? - "pick me!" "pick me!" "pick me!"
So many layers. The original Adam and Eve thoughts are still present. Then I added the Apple (er, Elppa - it's reversed, so no infringements here!=)) logo, as this and a few other projects playing in my mind address the "sex sells" idea in advertising. The two budding red flowers are standard Apple earbuds. With an air of enticement, mystery and allure, they hauntingly repeat a whispering, "pick me...pick me...pick me..." Leading into life and relationships - the seduction, the desire to be chosen, the excitement of the unknown...
So many possibilities. All those apples sure do look the same. We all know they are not. Which one to pick? And once picked, we are given a taste of something new, something unique. Another decision arises - are we content with the crisp skin of this apple, the sweet aroma, the mouth-watering taste, or are we curious about the others? It's a difficult, sometimes rewarding, sometimes painful way of being. We, each of us, have gone picking and have been picked at some point in our lives. But, when is it time to stop returning to the tree? When to stop listening to those little voices inside our heads, saying "I should go," or "this should end?" (I couldn't help the Missy Higgin's, 'Where I Stood' reference). How is one to know when they have the "best" apple...especially when best is just an abstract notion? And what if we do have the best, or did, but we let it go, believing there's something better out there? Do we then rely on another notion - fate- to set things right?
Or we toss these notions and hold what we have - feel its presence, the contours of its shape, see the deep, vibrant red, freckled pale yellow, smell its sweetness, taste its essence, nurture it and enjoy every bite right down to the core. Decide to see the best in what we have; decide to take fate into our own hands. Only then will we truly be happy beyond contentment.
And so, like others out there, I listen. I have heard the Sirens. I have tempted fate. I have sailed and I have wrecked. And I have learned to hear beyond the tempting Siren songs - those whispers of fear and uncertainty - to a place where hearing becomes seeing, and everything is clear. Listen to that clarity. It's the heart's desire. Our True North. Set a course.
Happy picking.
First, the fabric is silk. Silk, as most anyone would know or assume, DOES NOT LIKE SPRAY PAINT. Not one bit. Unfortunately, I lost my mind for a few minutes this past summer, and attempted to spray the apple pattern on this gorgeous kimono remnant. I immediately realized my error, as I watched the paint attempt to escape its prison and bleed beyond the boundaries:
But wait! …It stopped. No...no...NO! Now it's wrinkling...ah!...what's it doing now?! ...Oh no. *touches fabric* - stiff as cardboard. Crap!
It was horrific, really. Witnessing the death of a once smooth and flowing surface. Like gears in motion suddenly halted because someone has thrown a wrench into the works, my heart momentarily stopped and my mind panicked. My hands responded, pulling that wrench free and tossing it away. Wheels are in motion again. There's always another way! The solution? A stamp. Of course. Thank you, Betsy Bannan, for introducing me to Speedy Stamp Blocks! From there on out, "Pick Me" was quite enjoyable to piece together.
And it came together. Bit by bit, a day here, another there. It may have taken an absurd amount of time, but it is complete.
Pick Me:
iPhone or Blackberry? - Apple says, "pick me!"
Coke or Pepsi? - Coke spouts, "pick me!"
Obama or McCain? - "pick me!" "pick me!" "pick me!"
So many layers. The original Adam and Eve thoughts are still present. Then I added the Apple (er, Elppa - it's reversed, so no infringements here!=)) logo, as this and a few other projects playing in my mind address the "sex sells" idea in advertising. The two budding red flowers are standard Apple earbuds. With an air of enticement, mystery and allure, they hauntingly repeat a whispering, "pick me...pick me...pick me..." Leading into life and relationships - the seduction, the desire to be chosen, the excitement of the unknown...
So many possibilities. All those apples sure do look the same. We all know they are not. Which one to pick? And once picked, we are given a taste of something new, something unique. Another decision arises - are we content with the crisp skin of this apple, the sweet aroma, the mouth-watering taste, or are we curious about the others? It's a difficult, sometimes rewarding, sometimes painful way of being. We, each of us, have gone picking and have been picked at some point in our lives. But, when is it time to stop returning to the tree? When to stop listening to those little voices inside our heads, saying "I should go," or "this should end?" (I couldn't help the Missy Higgin's, 'Where I Stood' reference). How is one to know when they have the "best" apple...especially when best is just an abstract notion? And what if we do have the best, or did, but we let it go, believing there's something better out there? Do we then rely on another notion - fate- to set things right?
Or we toss these notions and hold what we have - feel its presence, the contours of its shape, see the deep, vibrant red, freckled pale yellow, smell its sweetness, taste its essence, nurture it and enjoy every bite right down to the core. Decide to see the best in what we have; decide to take fate into our own hands. Only then will we truly be happy beyond contentment.
And so, like others out there, I listen. I have heard the Sirens. I have tempted fate. I have sailed and I have wrecked. And I have learned to hear beyond the tempting Siren songs - those whispers of fear and uncertainty - to a place where hearing becomes seeing, and everything is clear. Listen to that clarity. It's the heart's desire. Our True North. Set a course.
Happy picking.
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