rising from flames

invisible © Laura Kicey

I'm sitting here with Maggs on my lap, filling my belly with Cholle and realizing that even though I cannot top the adventures of last weekend I can say I feel rested for the first time in weeks. And that is not exiciting blog material whatsoever.

This weekend I started methodically mapping all of my photos on flickr (further proof of how little else I did). I love this because a. I adore maps b. I have a terrible memory c. I can actually spatially relate one place to another as usually I have a horrible sense of where I am in relation to where I have been.

Oh this town was HERE?! We were right next to this and didn't go there!?

I like being able to track 'accomplishments' or at the very least, the amount of ground I have covered.



pop © Laura Kicey

Next to be plotted is Phoenixville, where I went today. I drove through Valley Forge National Park, for the first time ever, to get there. It was complete mayhem. And didn't look compelling at all.
Phoenixville itself has a lot of little gems, a few rugged industrial patches, slightly rundown (but not terrifying) neighborhood streets, huge sagging Victorian houses, overgrown alleyways..... and it smelled like a laundromat and BBQ on the grill. Now that could just be because it was Labor Day, but it helps me get excited about the place. I want to eat it and wrap myself in it, ok? Ahem. It is pretty big... bigger than Ambler, might even have a couple of interesting shops of the thrify-antiquey variety... plus a couple gallery spaces I might need to look into when everything is actually open. Though I should really point the efforts at The City proper. One thing at a time.


pointers © Laura Kicey

Labors of the Weekend

The framing is finished due to the combined efforts of Daniel and myself. Thanks Daniel!

Things I learned/observed from this process:

•Pulling the sticky paper off the acrylic is hard.

•I don't think I can be persuaded to cut my own mattes. Ever.

•If I was really rich I would have had way more larger pieces than I do and I feel a tinge of regret. I might have gone even bigger for some, like 16x20.

•I have made peace with signing my pieces. Am trying to gracefully accept that I am selling 'pieces of art' not 'just photos'. I think?

•I stand firm in my refusal to number things. That just seems really pretentious.

•I don't think my photos have subjects per se.

•When I had all the framed pieces propped up sitting around me in the room, I felt like I was in a room full of people I knew and felt kind of emotional. Which is weird. It made me feel strange about selling them.

•Three people, ones I know, have already asked to buy something.

•Since I have no basis for comparison I have probably done something really wrong, but won't know it until the day we hang the show or perhaps after.

Final curatorial choices were made also... unless someone pitches a fit and convinces me the severed deer leg shouldn't be in the show. Mom tried and failed. That is a challenge people! I need to fuss over some stuff on my website tonight. And do laundry. Write an artist's statement. (Hohohohhahaha!). Make a piece list for the window. And price everything (belly laugh).

The plan from here is to find something passable to wear to the event. Turn 29 peacefully in a week and half. Hang the show two days later. Sleep the remainder of that day. Go to work the next day and leave early. Open the show, see people: ones I don't know, hardly ever see, am trying to hide from, am glad to have there, or am dying to see... then make squillions of dollars and not sound like a dunce or turn magenta.