On: My Big Art Sale, an Update

Silk-screened cards

Soon after coming back from Spain, I got a crazy idea - sign up for an art fair. I had no art ready, no supplies, but a lot of drive and inspiration and an endless supply of past-projects that I knew could be re-tooled for sale  in a flash.

Right away, I saw that I'd missed the deadlines of all the big shows by months but had just a few days to apply for Bucktown's 13th Holiday Art Show. So I did, got accepted, forked over a ton of cash and suddenly had to do something about that.

BUTTONS

And since then I've been accumulating projects and, when a smaller art sale suddenly popped up, I've been frantically buying supplies, printing, cutting, gluing, assembling and sleeping little and eating poorly. But it's all almost over. The BIG art show is this Saturday and Sunday and I am almost ready. If it were tomorrow, I'd be OK even. That in itself is a tremendous accomplishment for me and I am thrilled at the challenge this project has presented over the past 3 months.

Prints!

This weekend, I will have 25 8x10 prints, 40+ 5x7 prints, 80+ 4x6 prints, along with buttons, round and square magnets, magnet sets in gift tins, pins, bookmarks and silk-screened cards. It doesn't look like I'll have the book bags silk screened in time, but that's ok! There is plenty of other work ready for sale.

The best part, for me, is that I at last have arrived at a concept in which to wrap all this work. It has a name, a logo, and soon - an Etsy store and website. More on that when I get to it, maybe after the sale, maybe 2012.

Until then, I have just a backdrop to make, some risers to paint and maybe make more cards. Also Mom is driving in from Ohio to help me and that is a huge bonus and reward - I get to sell art, meet people, talk up myself AND hang out with my wonderful mother! Until then, I am taking it easy and thinking ahead. I got a lot done, but there's just as much still to do.

On: 24, Notes on A Magical Year

on my 25th Birthday

Time can be measured in any number of ways, and while a calendar year may be most common, my favorite is to count the days between my birthdays. August to August, I make mental notes of progress and orient myself and wherever I may be in life to the coming of the 15th.

My 24th was a very special year for me. It was magical for the single reason that that was the age at which my mother gave birth to me, in another time and world, in Tver, Russia. So, in my mind, those 365 days received a fine and invisible layer of meaning.

That summer, as I turned 24, was my first in this magical city where I've made a home. On that August 15th, I was wrapping up a whirlwind summer of moving to a new state, of knowing no one, of stumbling into the top-tier of the wedding industry and then unexpected graphic design work. How I earned enough to live on that summer is still a mystery, as I was quite bad at my job. But my boss saw potential and was very patient and forgiving. She even gave me more work. By that birthday, I went to Ohio for a friend's wedding where I designed the invites and learned an important lesson.

And then - fall. Networking, working, long hours, weddings. Some art, then winter, more of the same, more design, Facebook-ing, social media and more. Then more and more and more of the same. And it was glorious and wonderful and while not always fun - it gave me quite a base on which I am working off of now.


Here are the highlights.

• Seeing Shara Worden perform at Millennium Park with a full orchestra on my 25th birthday - a life-affirming, mind-melting performance.
• Being in the wedding of my best friend from college- I was the "maid of honor" and it was quite an honor to see her walk that aisle. And yes, I cried.
• Also, this year I've met some truly great, talented, inspiring people - several of whom are now my friends.
• Seeing the amazing Zoe Keating. While the music is haunting and beautiful, hearing her speak about finding success was the most wonderful gift.
• Networking. So. Much. Networking. There are so many amazing people in the wedding industry - and they all love hanging out, drinking wine and passing business cards. Working at a venue meant they all wanted to know me.
• This was also a year of a lot of self-discovery and while I now see and know myself better than before, there remains a lot to work through - I suppose that's part of the bargain, when it comes to life, and although the process may be daunting - there's little to do but roll up the sleeves and dive in.
• Spending my first Christmas and New Year with my mom in Chicago - and Thanksgiving with dear friends in Columbus.
• Mom & I also took a two-week road-trip to Colorado. Outside of seeing many people once very special and close to me, the trip also felt like a closing of a huge and terrible chapter of my life. My first 9 years living in America came to an end there, as mom & said goodbyes, took all our things and drove into the sunrise.


It was quite a year. But I'm glad it's history. The year I'm on is a different, more difficult, beast, but I am happy to be living it. Every day.

On: Magic in The City and the Current Reading List

While specific books and I have certain and often complex relationships that I won't get into now, with Books in general I've noticed a sort of cycle. It starts with a twinge, perhaps after reading a review, or seeing the same book a few times - a sort of slight ping in my mind, a switch being pressed that says: "Why aren't you reading!?" Then, I move on and get busy and weeks will go by, but all the while, I will begin to crave reading. It will be a source of anxiety of sorts, of me being silly and not making time for what I want most.

Finally, I'll make way to The Library and spend a few happy hours browsing, looking, being lost, being frustrated, wondering why I'd waited so long - and come home to at least  half dozen tomes that could be anything and wonder how I'll have the time to read half of my haul. I then read one book, or two at once, get enthralled or get bored, pick up another, or ignore them all and rack up fines and finally return them. Then, a few weeks will go by and the same will start all over.

It's a bit of a silly pattern, but I followed it even while living in Columbus, just an alley away from the Main Library there, which, to this day remains as one of my favorite places on Earth. Whoever runs that ship sure know what they're doing and it's something that's truly lacking in Chicago's 100 times larger system.

But. Something that I didn't have in Columbus was something I find ever-present here in Chicago. It's not a thing or place and it's not even anything I can describe in concrete terms. It is more of a sensation and a consistent, persistent thought, like some great inside joke about to be told that only a portion of the city is directly aware of that nonetheless affects and impacts the city each and every day, if only you let it. It may be silly, but the only word I have for it is magic.

Of course, it's not unicorns or bolts of thunder. It's not even anything terribly interesting, but there are a lot of coincidences that happen here all the time. It's getting on the train with absolute strangers and then, on your commute back, seeing the very same people, several days in a row, all at wildly different times. It's thinking about how to contact someone and then having that person get in touch. It's thinking, "Oh, I wonder if that book that finished the trilogy that I started ever got written?" - and it being the first thing you see when going to the library for the first time in months, which of course happened to me last weekend, with the book you see above that I am now reading and very much enjoying. These things are all minor, and I wouldn't think to comment on any of them, unless they happened all the time, constantly and consistently.

If that's just part of living here, then I am all for it. It's odd, bizarre and sometimes startling, but it's part of the wonderful vibrancy that brought me here is allowing me to now thrive.

On: Spain, the Great Cost of Travel, Growing Pains and Letting Go. Part Two

Verdant. Lush. Unbelievable.

Bear with me.

When I arrived at the entrance to The Alhambra, instead of a sweeping vista of ancient walls, palaces and gardens, I was greeted with a wide parking area adjoining a group of buildings that could have been an entrance to a zoo, an amusement park, anything.

My obsessive research from The States pointed to that there would be no tickets, it being early September, but I just strolled up to a machine and, suddenly, we had an hour to kill before being allowed in. So mom and I wandered around the parking lots, past cars and tour buses, around long lines of tourists, to an area further back, and shaded from a heat that was not oppressive, but aggressive - it actually felt like the heat was pulling moisture out of me.

We sat on a concrete block that formed the side of a large area of earth filled with a colorful variety of plants that would be expected in such a climate, under a tree that sprouted not from this bed, but from the ground just a few inches outside of it. We proceeded to make lunch, which was an odd amalgam of leftovers from the past few days. We had sandwiches, with cheese and milk and some fresh fruit, and I had some sausage. We then sat and talked, made room for a noisy family with a few children also having lunch, drank water and then made our way back to the entrance, to stand in line before entering the palaces & gardens. 

The Partal Palace

That hour, of us sitting, talking, eating, waiting - it is the best memory I have from that trip. It was so simple, so effortless. Over all the years that have brought us here, my mother and I have shared so much, have come so far, that we've accumulated a lot of, well, baggage, if you will. This shared history translates into an invisible weight that sometimes can't help but get in the way from time to time. And so we struggle and argue, over stupid things, over ego and over emotions. And although that's just me talking, right then and there, it was beyond wonderful to just be. While I can't speak for my mother, I felt an ease and a calm that was so complete and so thorough that it left an impression I still feel today, months after. 

And, of course, afterwards, we two spent most of the day seeing one of the highest, finest, most spectacular and complete accomplishments of human art and engineering on the continent. And it changed my life.

On: Spain, the Importance of Travel and the Finding of Purpose in Changing. Part One

Mom & I in Madrid

Last month, my mother and I spent two weeks in Spain. We spent a few days seeing sights in Madrid, then visited Toledo, Segovia, Cordova and it's Grand Mosque, Granada and The Alhambra and I managed to see Bilbao & its Guggenheim, before returning to The States.

Of course, the trip was amazing. The rich culture, the amazing history & sights, the language, the food, the absurdly good looking men, they all combined into an unbelievable, humbling experience that was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And being able to see and share it all with my mom added an entire level of awe to these experiences. We met in Madrid and spent most of the trip together, exploring, getting lost, squabbling, but still enjoying every minute together. My obsessive research was often crucial and my mother's simple charm was just as useful as we navigated transit, winding medieval streets and foreign customs.

But, after two weeks, I was anxious to get back to Chicago, to this amazing, magical city I call home. I was anxious and, this is an aside, but I felt like I was was living the scene in "Inception" where the dream-people started to turn against you - suddenly everyone around me was always angry and those last few days alone while my mom began her linguistic conference in Logrono became a surreal experience.

Almost getting stuck in Bilbao was worth this view.

But. I came back, and although everything was exactly as I left it - right away, it also felt completely different. Within hours of being back at work, I felt itchy and uneasy. It may have been the remnants of jetlag at first, but the sensation continued the next day and for several days after my return. It was an acute sort of uncomfort, where my limbs felt lanky and odd, and every thought was incomplete - in a way, there suddenly appeared massive gaps between the shell that is my body and whatever it is that occupies that shell. In those days, my body was an outfit two sizes two big.

By the week's end, the sensation has dissipated, but a change has come. Now, weeks later my routine and situation is largely the same, I have the same job and friends and yet I feel and AM different. It is inexplicable, and I am in no rush to quantify the change. It is a new road that has showed itself to me and is tempting me. It is not an easy road, but it is paved with fulfillment and self-realization.

So this is a beginning. I will write more when more becomes clear. But now: courage, ambition and hard work.

On: Life; an Update

Oh my.

So much has changed since I was last here, that it's hard to remember how life was before I moved to Chicago. It hasn't been easy, but it also hasn't been dull.

Where to begin? What to say? Since moving last May, I have been working in the wedding industry, in catering, then venue sales. Then, I started getting paid to Facebook for small businesses and then I moved into food retouching and cleaning product package design. Dabbling in product comping, I then spent two weeks in Spain. And now, I am moving into some serious marketing, PR-type social media campaigning for a large national brand. It is a thrill.

But I am also re-discovering myself as an illustrator and that has been a true gift. As such, I am reviving this place as another venue to show-case the many ideas, sketches and thoughts that filter through my brain daily. I've been quiet so long, my voice is very rusty, but I am looking to fix that.

Won't you join me?