Spelunking into the Page

Each blank sheet of paper has infinite depth. Sure, the edges limit lateral extension but think about how far inward you can dive through a single sheet of paper. And while you're spelunking into the page, when do you determine that the rope you're drawing has reached its limit? At some point there's an end, right?

I'm in the process of finishing a drawing. I haven't puzzled through this in over a year. I mean, a long term, long puzzled drawing with lots of intricate content. I've pieced the images together and as I finalize their connections, composition, distribution of light and flow, an inevitable end looms indeterminably. Morning after morning, my imagination lowers deeper into the remaining crevices of white. I'm not done exploring, but the blankness fills and there's less to discover. Soon as there's no where else to climb, it's time to dive into a new sheet of paper. And that's how a drawing ends. Next time, draw a longer rope.

My Casserole Life

I am a creative junkie.

I'm a journal writer, an artist, a swing dancer and collector of corks. I fold cranes obsessively and store them in abnormally shaped jars, I adore the patterns at Sal's Boutique and draw trees almost as much as I seek out delectable meals. I collect people's stories, absorb white noise on subways and have developed skills in latte art. I attend lectures, plays, the ballet, improv shows and make jewelry out of recycled materials; meanwhile I'm baking gluten free and gluten full, singing jazz standards and airbrush face painting elaborate works of art on screaming children. I'm a New Yorker with a never ending itch to travel, I'm a young woman with an extra dose of helpless romanticism.

This blog is a big unpredictable work of thoughts: welcome to my life.