Megan Wolfe

On the Bookshelf - Art Reads for January, 2009

I am a book junkie. As much as I consume (free) digital content, there's nothing that beats the feel of print. And, every year, around this time, my library grows a bit larger. Because, finally, I get to relish all those awesome reads discovered during the year.. the ones I put aside, and said "maybe for Christmas.."

Here's just a few I recently picked up:

• Lives of the Artists, by Calvin Tomkins

Short biographies written about contemporary artists, including Damien Hirst, Cindy Sherman, John Currin, and others. I'm in the middle of Julian Schnabel's now, and the biography on Damien Hirst gave me a newfound respect for his work. I really didn't like him before (I don't care much for sensationalistic art, "shock" art), but his interest in time and mortality is not that much different from my own. Easy to read book, and very engaging.

• Sparrow #2: Phil Hale, by IDW Publishing

Yesterday, I got lucky and found this at a used bookstore. Phil Hale is one of my favorite painters / illustrators, and I couldn't pass it up (especially not at $6). Gritty, dramatic, monochromatic, surrealistic, Phil is one of a few artists that has continued to inspire me again and again. And, at 6 x 6 inches, "Sparrow" is small and light enough that I can carry him around with me when I leave the studio.

• The Polaroid Book, Taschen

Books by Taschen are usually pretty cheap (under $20 for a hard backed book with good artwork), and I picked this up yesterday when I got "Sparrow". Lately, I've been wanting to delve back into photography, try new things, and this has a variety of interesting fine art photos. Some are quite textural, having been post processed in the dark room, and others are pretty straight forward. Features 254 photos by 203 artists (including Chuck Close and Cay Lang, author of Taking the Leap).

Preserving Time in the Studio with Routine

In "Letters to a Young Artist", artist Gregory Amenoff advises a fictional 'young artist' to "let the studio be your sanctuary". That statement particularly resonated with me this month. Between pulling together the two shows, "Missing Time" and "Follow Through", and working two part time day jobs, I've really missed my sanctuary.

But my sanctuary is something I need. On a regular day, it's difficult fitting it in, and I have to give up a lot of other things in order to do it. I rely heavily on routine. Every morning I wake up, grab a latte from one of the local coffee shops, and sketch. Off to work. During lunch breaks, I buy supplies, take photos, or listen to podcasts about blogging. Sometimes, I make notes.

When I get home, I answer e-mails, surf the web, and then around eight pm I start working on my art. I might break for dinner, but usually I work until one in the morning. I might do some minor tasks after that (ex: making more postcards), but then I punch out for the night. The cycle repeats the next morning.

My rule of thumb for my routine: it has to be comfortable. Something that isn't too big for me to accomplish in the time I have. It's also like body-building, or jogging. You start with easy weights, and then build up from there. I used to fit in a half-hour of morning sketching, but now I can manage an hour.

My routine helps me preserve my studio time, my sanctuary. I don't have to think about what needs to be done, because it's there, it's a habit. It feels weird NOT to do it. It's also the one time of the day that no one but me, the artist, controls. That's why Amenoff referred to time in the studio as the artist's "sanctuary".