Last Wednesday I was guest speaker at the local RSL (Returned Serviceman's League). I took along a few of my artworks (always good to have visuals). I thought it would be good experience for me to stand up in front of a group of people and talk about my work, my techniques and accomplishments. As the time got near I began to get really nervous. I had to use a microphone and for anyone who knows me they know I have a fear of microphones, groan. My mouth went dry, my hands started to shake and I just wanted it to be over. Once I warmed up the nerves disappeared and the words flowed quite easily. I spoke for 45 minutes non-stop!!!!! I started by saying that I am not a public speaker but I was led to believe you start with a joke. I said "Standing here like this reminds me of AA meetings I've seen portrayed on tv so I will start by saying: Hello, my name is Uta and I'm an art-a-holic." Everyone laughed (thank goodness) and that broke the ice. I am happy to report there was a lot of interest in my work and my techniques with a lot of chatting and questions afterwards. The best thing is I even got paid!!! Wasn't expecting that.
Had a great art day yesterday. No interruptions and I was able to get into 'the zone' and not come out till it was time for me to cook dinner. I still need some text to go with this piece. It needs a little dialogue to start to tell the story I think. But as yet the right words haven't come to me. Maybe today. Any ideas will be appreciated. Today is the day I do those mundane duties, those necessities of life we call housework. While I'm entrenched in the everyday humdrum I will think longingly of my art and perhaps then the right words will come. How dramatic am I. Bit of a drama queen this morning hehehe. I quite enjoy the mundane humdrum of housework once I get started. It keeps me grounded and balanced as its an absolute contrast to my airy fairy art self.
not yet completed 60.9x60.9cm (24"x24")
4 comments:
working hard to make a living
bringing shelter from the rain
a fathers son left to carry on
blue denim in his vein
oh oh oh he's a working class man
well he's a steel town deciple
he's a legend of his kind
he's running like a cyclone
across the wild mid western sky
oh oh oh he's a working class man
he believes in god and elvis
he gets out when he can
he did his time in vietnam
still mad at uncle sam
he's a simple man
with a heart of gold
in a complicated land
oh he's a working class man
well he loves a little woman
someday he'll make his wife
saving all the overtime
for the one love of his life
he ain't worried about tomorrow
cause he just made up his mind
life's too short for burning bridges
take it one day at a time
oh oh oh he's a working class man
oh oh oh he's a working class man
oh yeah
yes he is
well he's a working class man
Julie love the poem or is it'a song. I think i've heard this before but my memory fell out one of the wholes I've go in my head lately. I love the works boots. For me Uta the boots of been the symbol of support, holding the man/women together while they are on their daily task of work damn hard. they carry that person many places and have stories to tell but only warn out soles as evidence. Ode to well worn work boots.
Great piece and very proud of you day. Great job!!
~v~
You take such realistic objects and turn them into dreamy and these work boots top the cake and you inspire Julia (so it seems) to write a piece about it. All good, I feel that witnessing the creativity of others inspires and touches each of us. I am in online group where we're discussing the art process and what comes first, words or images? Would like your take on that. Next time you speak in a group, I'm in the front row!!! You are so moving forward on your path!
Much love from a fellow art-a-holic
Thanks for your words of encouragement ladies and thanks for the word Julia.
Julia can't take credit for those words however. They are the song lyrics to Working Class Man by Australian band Cold Chisel.
Laura, love the idea of a journey with only worn out soles as evidence. That's got my imagination going.
Bev, as to what comes first the image or the words, I think for me its definately the image with the words usually forming while I'm creating the piece.
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