Studio time [Music: Hit the Diamond - alive & surasshu]
Working on some material studies in the studio this afternoon
Prairie Studies and Studies for “Jupiter”, 2015, Installation at the Southern Alberta Art Gallery. Photo Credit to David Miller.
Elias/ “I prefer the grey breath of January, where things appear as they are.” 2016, Installation at the Southern Alberta Art Gallery.
Plasma cut steel, cedar wood chips, tin bucket.
Jupiter/ "Softly, softly, I cherished that lingering hollow" (fragment)
2015
Jupiter/"gently gently, I cherished that lingering hollow" texture detail (work in progress) from my instagram: slaing_art
Little things I have around my studio
Prairie Material Studies, 2014
Mixed Media on Canvas
Neptune Revisited, 2014
Mixed Media on Paper, Velum
Neptune/"softly, softly, I filled it until I was empty" (incomplete) 2014
WIP Neptune/"Softly, softly, I filled it until I was empty"
I've been really terrible at posting because I've been really terrible at making art. Graduate school, as they say, is hard.
Updated my website so the galleries are hexagons. Check out the (somewhat) new www.shonafitzgeraldlaing.com
Farges and Ferio/"If I can't go anywhere, what would you do with a person like me?", 2014 A new in-progress sculpture dealing with space, place and belonging.
"Traven" Revisited, 2013
Acrylic and Embroidery on Canvas
Bottom: Allra and Traven, 2013 (installed February 15, 2013)
I thought I would tell a little story with these, since stories I’ve been working through some things with these works, and I think it’s important.
A very important professor to our art program passed away in June of cancer. It was sort of sudden for us. He was present at our first critiques of the new year, and then promptly went on sick leave. We all miss him, and I feel as though the program is suffering a collective mourning.
During my thesis proposal presentation last September, Graham asked me if I had read John Green. I had replied that no, I hadn’t, and received “You write like him” in response. I never thought much of it, just put John Green on the very long list of writers I ought to look into.
When Graham passed away in June, I found myself trying to clinging to everything he had ever told me. He had a way of saying everything in very few words, so there was very little to work with. And among the things I salvaged, the comment about John Green came up again.
But you see, I have this terrible habit of walking into book stores and buying books without reading the synopsis. (Fun fact: this is how I read Simone de Beauvoir, who literally ruined my life for the better). And so, I picked up “The Fault in Our Stars” and thought nothing much of it until I opened it a few days later. I was probably only on page three when I realized I had made a terrible mistake, and a part of me felt as though I had been burned. I wanted to throw the book across the room and scream bloody murder, but I couldn’t because I paid good money for that book and I would finish it even if it killed me.
And I found myself searching for Graham in pages that could not tell me what he meant when he told me that I would make a good professor, or what it was that he saw in me that I cannot see for myself. It was silly of me to do so, but alas. “What a [wo]man with a broken heart will say is no indication of what [s]he may know.”
I’ve been suffering from some artist block, so I revisited a practice Graham supported in sculptors: to make drawings from objects. Hence, I made these. It’s most likely a more positive mourning process, and I’ve been feeling a little like Traven recently. A little sad, a little lost, and unsure what it is I should do. But those feelings pass.
shonafitzgeraldlaing.com
Re-imagining old projects in new ways.
I had a professor who was a big advocate for drawing your sculptures once they were complete so that you can learn more about them as objects that take up space. "Sculptures are drawings in space".
Check out the original sculpture at shonafitzgeraldlaing.com
My mom wants this but I’m actually the laziest person alive
Working on something for myself for once Not my usual fare, but alas Loretta Young, work in progress