peaches and cream harlequin curtains

It's friday night and i'm taking my first down time of the week. I'm exhausted. Requesting the early morning slots seemed like a good idea and will be i'm sure, as soon as my body adjusts. I've been on the go, having just relocated to L.A., looking for a place to live, and also assistant-editing a documentary. That's my time outside of Genesis. Yesterday while in the gallery, I left to go to my car and get my sexist 'do-it-herself' kit and was amazed at how loud and abrasive the street was, and how quiet, comfortable, and welcoming the space was when I walked back in. My time has been mountainous ups and downs during this first week, and I've been really trying to listen to what Genesis has in store for me. Cheryl's poem-writing exercise kick started my week. She led us through such a powerful exercise of reaching back into the past to acknowledge what and where it is we come from, what we bring with us and how we're drawing from ourselves-all the self-perceived good and bad, the struggles and self-doubt and the malleability of ourselves to other whole struggling people that bring all their stuff here also. What does it mean really to enter into a structured month long residency, expel our own expectations, and also honor our limitations and desires at the same time? If we are to be in conversation with all these sometimes conflicting elements, can we be quiet enough to hear it, get comfortable, and just drop it all and dance hard? It's interesting that while dancing and ice skating and jump roping and all these really physical things are a part of my studio practice already, I really have considered myself a visual artist mostly. and yet the most consistent part of my studio has been dancing. like by that I mean breaking it down, busting a move, some heavy hard escapist gyrating. ALONE!!! and now here I am perplexed the most by the role of collaboration in where I am at this present art epoch of my life. The 15 minute overlap doesn't really allow for much collaboration, but I'm also terrified of those 15 minutes and my instincts say 'clean up and ship out'. However, collaboration, community, conversation have all been important to my thought process about art from my developmental get-go, but putting it into action is really challenging for me. I led a double dutch workshop last week for the first day workshops and tackled it like it was some dude coming at me about to knock me out. I can offer a formula to 'get' double dutch. But that is soooo not the point. I forgot that joy in jump-roping in some weird unconscious moment of feeling pressed for time to 'teach' double dutch. It is so not mine to teach. That's what I learned this week way way after the fact.

A few highlights:
1) I spooned with my dog today on the romper room minimalist grey conceptual grid floor.
2) I have been madly, deeply, fellatiously inspired by those peaches and cream harlequin curtains. So much so that I have some serious ideas about what I'd like to attempt in the space during this month...it involves the artist formerly known as Prince.
3) Likewise, I'm really into those beautiful beams up on the ceiling housing our fairy light friends.
4) I have been inspired by some of the materials in the space and am making a head-dress.
5) I really like coming in and inspecting the remains of people's work. We leave these slight shadows in there that hint at what we're up to. It's like being in a strange hearing-impaired conversation and really digging it.
ALISON