I have been interested in what film making could be for a while and wanting to try my hand at filming. Where would my eye stray? Would the expression be an artistic event or a documentary endeavor? What do I have to say? How would I edit such a filmic happening. What can’t I say with paint, charcoal, clay, a space changing installation...

To that end I made a small first attempt with a look at myself in the studio using a Blackberry pad to film, (where awkwardly there is no way to actually completely see where one is precisely focussed, beyond a general direction & learned habit). So I let the learning curve begin. Earlier this week I, with one hand surgically-gloved, paint brush in hand, spontaneously grabbed the ‘film pad’ with the other hand, turned it on and began to talk to an unspecified audience, one interested in the art process, mine in particular. The gall.

I described what I was doing with a smaller work in progress. I then showed other works in the series lining the studio floor. I had no idea what I was going to say, had not really thought out in advance what I was aiming for, & in addition had not quite described to myself, what was going on in the pieces. What I had actually achieved with the series was just allowing myself to make them, to follow the pull of desire in that uncensored direction. Sometimes allowing a thing to happen is the biggest challenge as an artist, especially as one facing an artistic deadline. There’s an inner voice that says, get on with it! Produce work for the booth, the gallery, the deadline. A holymoly bad way to go! At least for my creative working spirit.

Then I perched on my stool & watched the film, all 3:37 minutes worth.The epiphany (an overused word if ever there was one)...the AHA moment of the experience revealed more than I could have possibly predicted. In fact I had predicted nothing beyond trying an idea out. 

Instead what I saw was an articulate woman, explaining what these works were about, what may have lead to them, what I was interested in by making them. Someone grounded, knowledgable, quite sure of a direction. Pensive and in control, able to explain in a concise manner what was aimed for. This is an astounding & at this point profound way of ‘seeing’ one’s self and 'hearing' one’s thoughts.
Oh that’s who I am...

It brought me back to myself, provided cognitive content on some of the work oriented towards my booth at The Toronto Artist Project. Not the work I was riffing on for the film to be precise. Other small works that I had hatched as a preemie idea, which ultimately need more gestational time. And I finally admitted to myself, was not what I should be doing. I was blocked and ignoring that block, unhappily disengaged & pushing forward towards a deadline.

Watching myself, listening & hearing my own words brought me back like a kite gently to the grass, the solid ground, the path. I scrapped a whole body of work which needs more time to develop, laid it to rest for now. Turned around & there I stood.

A studio may be just one room but you can get lost there. And apparently found.