What Are You Reading?

One of my advisers in University while I was working toward obtaining my Bachelor of Fine Art degree, said she thought it was essential that artists read and that it influences your art. This was one of the best lessons I've learned going to University and has certainly been my experience throughout my life. The decisions I made in choosing my creative path, the vocations I have had and the subject matter of most of my artwork, is a result of books I have read.. When I think of some of the books that have influenced me, my head is often full of ideas that swim and swirl around in my brain. It can be a little overwhelming. I am not what you call a really well read person and I am not an intellect, and wasn't a very good reader during school. I had some difficulties concentrating and focusing due to a combination of factors. Regardless I have a thirst for knowledge and life long learning and am a much better reader now. There have been several books that have been life changing and have been integrated into my personality, the way I make my art and what I create.

Last Summer I read On Writing by Stephen King, a kind on memoir and ' how to ' book about the process of writing. I am not exactly a reader of most of Stephen Kings books, as I don't really care for fictional thrillers. I do certainly appreciate his talent and his extremely salt of the earth personality. I am very drawn to those kinds of writers.
I also identify with him and his personal demons and difficulties he has struggled with in his life.

Of  course I am interested in the process of writing, being a blogger, who writes everyday, long hand in journals. I have kept journals for many years and have found them to be useful tools that enable my creative process as an artist. It is a great therapeutic tool, particularly when going through the highs and lows of life.

I concur with what many writers say time and time again that in order to improve your writing you need to read. I have made a conscious decision to do this, more so lately, now I have the time to read what ever I like. I also have come to believe, that in order to improve your art making or creativity in general, reading is an essential and powerful tool that will foster, nurture, inspire and transform.

Currently I am reading  I think one of my favourite writers, Anne Lamott's new book STITCHES. Next I will tackle Mavis Gallant's, In Transit, a collection of her short stories.
I just finished Walker Evans and James Agee's book Let Us Now Praise Famous Men which was a rather depressing and hard to get through read. The reason being the subject matter was pretty depressing and the way it was written left me a little frustrated. The photography of course was riveting, and I am so happy and grateful  I actually got to see many of these Walker Evans photos when I had the opportunity to visit the Museum of Modern Art. The experience of seeing these black and white photographs took my breath away.

Here's a great list I found today to feed your hungry book brain  http://yougottareadthis.tumblr.com/
I will never be an e-book reader because I love how a book can engage all of my senses. So what are you reading?

School's Out On The Road

The last day of classes at Mount Allison were officially over on December 5th 2011. I still have a few loose ends to tie up and that's it for me. I am so looking forward to next term, my last before graduation.
Wow, the reality of my pending graduation and last term is beginning to seriously sink in. It's a wonderful, somewhat daunting reality and I'm certain when the end finally comes the experience will be very surreal to me.

There are several surreal moments in time that stand out for me, while attending the Fine Art program at Mount Allison. These moments in time covered the gambit from fantastic to freaky, frustrating, funny to plain silly. Suffice to say, certainly far from the bottom of the list, was stress. I admit I had a melt down or two out on my "highway of dreams".

There have been challenges that would perhaps boggle some folks minds. Frankly it boggles my mind, when I contemplate hitchhiking back and forth, from home to school and back home again, an hour and fifteen minutes away, for seven months. I did that. Some of these "rides" were like out of a page from a Stephen King novel. The very peculiar , 50 something woman, who picked me up at 9 o'clock in the morning. Considering I  grew up in the sixties, nothing quite prepared me for seeing her holding a joint in a long extended roach clip, asking if it would bother me if she lite this up. I thought, she must be smoking that rolled smoke in order to keep her fingers from getting brown with tobacco. I told her I was allergic, maybe she could put the window down, it was her car, so go ahead. At this point, I still hadn't clued in it was a doobie, until she stated she wouldn't light it up at the bridge where the road crew was working, because she was afraid someone would call the cops on her.

As we motored along, she eventually lite up and the familiar aroma reminiscent  of my fringe-hippie days gone by, wafted up my nostrils. I had a meeting that morning with my Professor. Then I thought, oh God, I am going to reek of dope and he is going to think I've been indulging. Fortunately she didn't smoke the whole thing and soon put it out, and I wasn't able to get to my appointment on time. On the way, she began to explain the details about how she was actually a twin, but her twin didn't survive and was some how, now growing out of her neck and her ribs. She then described how her ex-husband had abused her and caused her to loose the use of her eye. It was three weeks  she said, until she could get to a doctor, she would pop her eye in and out of it's socket and would wash her eyeball and pop in back in. Needless to say I was glad to get out of that car.

There are many lessons learned here and many weren't at University, they were, on the road.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle, you see the blue center-light pop, and everybody goes ahh..."

Jack Kerouac, On The Road