Art Work

TRANSITION I

What a tangled web we weave…

A ways back, I finally transitioned from my long-time blog, “Artissima – The Blog of ArtiFactory Studio, to my new blog at DebraDisman.com.

My last Artissima post announced this move, (for it is indeed a move…just as potent as a physical one), and I let go/discontinued/ceased to pay for my Custom Design on Artissima, knowing that I was moving on, forging ahead, going forward.

And I am…along with my work, my blog, my life. as we all (hopefully) are. As we all (hopefully) do.
Putting in the requisite work, effort, perseverance and commitment.

Yet, a bit later, I suddenly wanted the Custom Design back, back on my “old” Artissima blog, enhancing, beautifying, communicating and transforming…it.

WordPress had changed their blog design structures and it wasn’t so easy. Somewhat bewildered…at my own emotions and attachments, as well as web protocols, I sought advice from my dear friend and designer, Dianna Jacobsen of Jacobsen Design .

Dianna had designed both my sites, my Artissima blog, and all my support materials (“marketing collateral”). She told me, of course, to let it go. Not necessarily to let the old site and blog go, they still live (and radiantly I must say…even after all this time) on the web… but to let go of holding onto the old Custom Design, and my attachment to making and keeping the site and blog (in my mind) absolutely perfect.

“The older sites don’t adapt that well to the current and constantly changing digital environment.” she said (I paraphrase). “Stop ruminating about it, and move on.” (I paraphrase, but you get the idea.)

I needed to hear that.

So much seemed to be changing, much of it changes I had initiated, instigated, pixel by pixel, but some changes that I hadn’t, – that I definitely would NOT have chosen. All forming what feels like a massive transition, where everything in the world seems to have gone off its axis, requiring fresh eyes, energy and attitude.

I know this is growth, but sometimes it is confusing, sometimes it is overwhelming, and sometimes it hurts.

But we keep moving along…moment by moment, one foot in from of the other.

“The Whole World is a Narrow Bridge. The Important Thing is Not To Fear.”

Thank you for helping the through the “narrows” this time Dianna!

Story Time: BedTime Story I

I am repeating a bit in this post, lingering in my Studio Residency and show of work at Camera Obscura Art Lab at 1450 Ocean in Santa Monica.

I showed a work titled “BedTime Story I“, featuring, or shall I say employing tiny masks; faces of clay, made by my Mother, the ceramicist Judy Disman.

My Mom had made these tiny faces of clay expressly for me to use in and on my artists’ books, even making tiny holes in them so they could be sewed into and onto the book structures and become integral to them.

The faces were a natural for a piece about “bed”, and made the book into a more literal narrative then I had originally intended. I work fairly abstractly, though still in a loose book format, and the addition of representational elements changed the feeling of the piece. It could then be “read” more literally.

The faces even became interactive, with two of them contemplating each other.

Others became sentinels, gazing benevolently out from their “beds”.

Far from creating an image of sleep, the faces express the experience of being wide awake, perhaps listening to, creating, or becoming a story. A bed time story.

The faces become the actors in the story, played out through the pages of the book. Each viewer will read the story in their own way, and reach their own conclusions about it.

We may wonder what the beings or characters expressed or indicated by the faces are thinking, and if they are having sleepless nights. Perhaps they are worried under their smiling visages. Perhaps they are presenting to us a mask, and there are dreams and roiling emotions, even nightmares, underneath.

Perhaps formal, textural, decorative, haptic or totemic qualities of the work will prevail for some. In any event, BedTime Story I was a pleasure to make.

Again, Mom, thank you for the collaboration, and for creating these tiny pieces for me.
It was great to work with you. Sweet dreams.