Know what's a great feeling?

The first time your work wins first place.

"That tears my nerves up"

Auntie says I say this all the time.  I know I do because something is always tearing my nerves up.

Today it was installing work at the Mill House.  I woke up an hour earlier than necessary because I was so anxious about it.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe it was because this is my first sort of solo exhibit and I wasn't sure I had enough work or work of good quality.  Maybe it was because of the place and what/who that place represents.  Maybe it was because it's election day.  Or maybe it's because I'm just a freak and shouldn't worry so much. 

Setting up went fine and I'm proud of my work.  I'm kind of excited actually.  Here are a few of the featured pieces:

The good with the bad

charcoal, embroidery on pillow case

The finer things (indeed)

lipstick, coffee, and wine on napkin

Famous Friend

embroidery

Talks

charcoal, embroidery on pillow case

Brandt owes me one

steel, wood, colored pencil, leather

 

Not how I imagined it would go

steel, paint, pen

I'm missing a couple, ones I don't have photographs for yet.  The majority of these are part of people + things.  Some of the associations are not just with "things" (such as pillows, teabags, machetes) but also qualities such as color and form.  I'm finding it so much easier now to make these connections than I did when I first started.  I thought a lot about each individual person I knew and what reminded me of that person.  Which became totally overwhelming or I'd just hit a brick wall.  It became easier when I started jotting down memories, words, conversations with people which later led to imagery.  I'm finding that I work better this way: starting with something large, like a sentence or event, and breaking it down in to specific, important pieces.  That doesn't mean that just any word or moment will guarantee a piece of art to come out of it.  It has to be something that stuck with me, rings truth, or something that stings.

In addition to being anxious about putting up work, I also had to write a biography. Ehhh.  I can ramble on and on (especially in a blog) but when I have to write something about myself and my work for others to see, my nerves get rattled.  So here's what I came up with:

Ali Hammond was raised in Saluda-South, not North-across the street from cows and crawdads.  The rural atmosphere and experiences of her upbringing provide rich imagery and are an inspiration for her work.  She is a 2010 graduate of Lander University and a master of odd jobs.  Her favorite pizza at the Mill House is the BLT.

So go by the Mill House and check out my work.

Feelings surfaced and disappointment

Sometimes emotions are just too hellacious and that's why I don't deal with them.  I prefer to say nope when they come up and busy myself with something else.  Like listening to music when I run or doing crosswords or watching old Steve Martin SNL clips on youtube.  Those always make me laugh.

But lately, because of creating, I've been thinking and responding more than usual to emotions.  Which would normally cause me to get the hell out of dodge.  Some days I'm so thankful that I have to wear a mask while I work.  But I'm finding that just because I create a piece that's about a certain someone or event, it does not necessarily mean that the feelings I have about them become resolved.  Instead, they just seem to surface and I walk around with what feels like an elephant on my chest.  I have been disappointed by this.  I thought that I'd create a piece and everything I felt about the inspiration would stick to the sculpture like welding tacks and leave me feeling cathartic.  So why hasn't it? 

I wonder if time has not allowed me to attach the thoughts and memories with every piece.  It's almost as if the connection is there while I'm working on it but when I finish I can look at it and feel nothing.  Again, disappointment.  Maybe that's how musicians feel after they perform their own music.  Maybe it's not about the final outcome of the song, maybe it's about created it and performing.  Although I feel disappointed, the process of giving one hundred percent can become so wonderfully engaging and liberating that it's pure pleasure.  That it's the most honest thing I can do.  Even when I put on dark glasses, I still find that I'm content just to be there.

This is all very Dear Diary to bring up- see how I'm changing? Eh.- but I just wonder if other artists have felt the same way.  I've heard people joke about how dating an artist is good because they aren't usually repressed.  I've found that the more of myself I put into a piece, the better it tends to be. This has been a great transformation, going from assignments and doing work just to make a grade to actually caring for each piece like a mother cares for a child.  But when it's finished, why do I still feel insatiable?