Michelle's Michelle Things.

All that orange stuff is (are?) california poppies. This was on my way home from Bakersfield a few weeks ago...a very circuitous route.


I've been busy.
I've been working hard.
I've been thinking.
I've been looking at good things.
I've been listening to good music.
I've been walkin' around town.
I've been trying.

I haven't been blogging. I'm okay with that...I hope you are too.

I have also temporarily closed my etsy shop. Fear not: I'll be reopening soon. New work.

New. New. New.

This week I'm heading to Chicago, for Southern Graphics Council. So excited to see old friends and a whole lotta art.

v e r y l o n g l i n e s.

I thought I'd share the statement I wrote to accompany my work at Surface Gallery. I know I'm a terrible tease, considering I haven't posted any images of the work for the show, but I'd love to hear what you think...



statement: very long lines

A few months ago I taught myself how to spin yarn with a drop-spindle. Besides becoming obsessed with the repetitive nature of the craft, I was also fascinated by the spatial paradox of the process. In my tiny little apartment, I could sit in a small space and create a very long fine line. Yards and yards and yards of creation, wound up into a tidy, compact space.

Although the work included in “very long lines” is not made of Michelle-spun yarn, this interest in the spatial complexities of creation has certainly informed this body of work. My current living/working space is very small, and this has affected my art in ways I am just starting to understand. For years most of my work has been petite, or made of many petite fragments. I made a conscious decision to work on larger pieces for this exhibition, making an uncomfortably small workspace even more uncomfortable. It is part of the work that is invisible to the viewer, but working through this discomfort is part of what the work is about.

In creating these airy, open compositions, I am satisfying my desire for a place (or state of mind) where there is room and time for intricate detail, room for growth, and even room for un-organized “stuff” to comfortably exist.

My work is an autobiographical exploration of the non-linear nature of memory. The repetitive nature of my processes, (printing, mark-making, sewing) facilitate a meditative mind wandering, thus each finished piece becomes an abstract record of my thoughts. The “very long lines” refer to time lines, conversations, landscapes, paths, and distances between friends. I often equate interactions or conversations with tangible threads: loops as repetitions, tangles as complications.

March Cold.

I have a nasty cold. This was taken a couple of days ago, when I was still in denial about being sick.

I've had so much going on, and I know that this sickness was partially caused by being run-down.

I went to Nashville the weekend before last, drove up to Murray, Kentucky to eat at Hihburger and see friends, and then back down to Nashville for a college friend's wedding. It was a really, really good time. I'd post pictures, but I have not scanned my polaroids yet.

I saw plenty of ice-storm aftermath:



It did snow a bit on my drive back to Nashville, but just enough to delight this city mouse.



It seems like mere moments after I got home to Los Angeles, my friend Jenni flew in to town, and stayed with me this past week. I was NOT on vacation, and actually had tons of work to do for my show in Bakersfield, but I managed to burn the candle at both ends, and we had a great time. I got to show Jenni some of my favorite California things, and we discovered some new cool stuff. And of course we laughed like crazy about stupid stuff the way we have since we met in eighth grade.



Jenni helped me haul my work up to Bakersfield this past weekend, and then we took the long way home...a very long way home. We took the time to trespass in orange groves, and we found a wonderful honey farm on highway 126.





And we went to the Griffith J. Griffith Observatory... Twice.



Most of these are Jenni's pictures, by the way. So we had a splendid time, in spite of the stress, and business, and work, and sickness. Now I'm just trying to pull myself together and feel better.

Say, my show at Surface Gallery in Bakersfield opens this coming Friday, from 5-9pm. The work is there, and perhaps even on the walls. I'm looking forward to seeing all the pieces together, because the way I've been working on them has been very one-at-a-time, due to my teeny-tiny apartment.



Do come. "A splendid time is guarenteed for all." I'll be wearing a stunning new frock from Anthropologie. Well, I wore it to Whitney's wedding, but its new-ish...I think all the smoky smell from the "after party" has aired out by now.

My cold medicine is starting to make me sleepy, so I should conclude this post.

Good evening.