Sometimes the world feels very small. Appointments, errands and pickups empty my days. I live decisively between the moments.
March 21, 2010
A few years ago I lost my bearings, creatively. I was new to suburban living and uninspired. For a while, I longed to be a landscape photographer. I thought that if I could just be excited about my surroundings I would always have convenient subject matter. I yearned for something to photograph that was outside my realm.
I felt reduced by the enormity of these marshlands. Willingly lost on its paths, I drowned among the reeds. I deeply inhaled the cold dampness and shivered. Now I realize that you need to make peace with the natural world in order to feel it.
Posted by Andi Schreiber at 4:31 AM
March 13, 2010
I was talking to a friend earlier this week about our own type A tendencies. We were in our children’s first grade classroom observing the kids doing an art project, a still life drawing based on a painting by Cezanne. It’s interesting to see how some kids create very specific renderings with meticulous planning and others are a naturally looser in the marks they make.
It took me years to get away from the heavy outlines of my youth. In high school I painted a cityscape of Venice. I titled it “Venice-rock” because it looked so much like the Flintstones’ Bedrock. I found comfort in having my colors neatly in place on the canvas. Really, at the time I couldn’t do it any other way.
In spite of my need for a certain order, I know that perfection is a flawed concept. Theoretically, if I wanted to line up a group of ducks in a row to photograph, by the time I would click the shutter - - they would be long gone. Turns out that there is no such thing as having your ducks in nice, neat row.
I wonder why we are so quick to categorize ourselves as this or that? I am thankful that through art-making I have found ways to let go of all those heavy outlines and embrace joyful spontaneity. Nothing good happens creatively if I am in my comfort zone.
I may talk a good game about blurring the lines, breaking with routine and trying something new. At the same time I know it would be impossible to step out of the box if I didn’t have a really sturdy one, with clearly defined walls to keep me feeling safe and loved.
Posted by Andi Schreiber at 11:02 AM
March 5, 2010
This image came as no surprise to me. I made it after days of listening exclusively to Lady GaGa on my iPod while visiting my family in Boca Raton. For all I know this purple-haired, plastic fantastic Barbie is actually a Lady Gaga doll, reaching for who knows what - - a Pucci print bathing suit? I think she just wants to be noticed.
We all strive for recognition in our lives. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t. This came up recently when reading True Nature, the blog of Jenny Vorwaller, http://www.jennyvorwaller.com/blog/. She is a multi-talented artist and an insightful writer. In one blog post she discusses the letters she receives from viewers of her blog. On occasion, I have emailed artists and authors who have inspired me. I reached out hoping to find some common ground and to be honest, validation.
The blogosphere makes discovering new artists easy although I always break out in a sweat before I make contact and hit the send button. It’s basically cold calling. I have made some great connections with strangers this way, and had some disappointments, too.
For me, the best part about making photographs is the actual process itself. I get caught up and fall in love in those moments. I am a self-proclaimed infatuation junkie who can find inspiration while looking at the remains of an omelet. I tend to not worry about my audience, where my photographs might eventually be seen or if they will ever formulate a cohesive artistic statement. I photograph because I need to feel these images. Yet, I do blog.
Jenny Vorwaller is spot on when she says that all artists wish for validation. I have come to realize that an integral part of my work is the desire to share it. Sentimental as it may seem, I am compelled to spread the love I feel. But that’s only half the story. I am equally as driven to be noticed.
Posted by Andi Schreiber at 10:50 AM