Cambridge Art Association refused my application for membership this week. This is one of the three pieces I brought them. Too small? Too "quilty"? Should I have not presented this alongside the "representational" Tree? Who knows? These and other questions I am left to ponder while I nurse the second week of a miserable cold.
Long debate about self-definition, quilts and art, men and women, on one of my lists. I went back and reread Linda Nochlin's Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists? from 1988. It makes more sense to me now. For myself, a lot of work never gets done because of dinner. The mother lives in two time zones: now and one-meal-from-now. While I have been sick, food's rotted in the fridge. I read one artist who said, to be serious, one must go to one's studio and accept no interruptions, not even phone calls, for 6-8 hours. Well, who takes the 10AM phone call from the Nurse's office (your child's temperature is 101...). Whose peels the vegetables? Who gets the economical meat into edible form?
Sorry for the rant. I'm so sick I haven't even been able to make decent chicken soup. The only upside is I'm sleeping in my studio (aka the spare room), so I wake up to those lovely racks of thread in all the colors of the rainbow, along with the dawn coming through the trees.