Sigh

My Tim grid isn’t any closer to being resolved. Unlike other works in progress that don’t come together, this one I can’t walk away from. I’m so intrigued by the single images, they’re so strange and alluring–I know that there’s a piece in there somewhere. Instead of chiseling away at marble, slowly releasing the soul inside, I sit at my little table, day in and day out, shifting these little furry test prints around, waiting for the image to come together, to breath life into the fur. Nothing. It’s been weeks, months? and I’m beginning to feel like the Jack Nicholson that Shelley Duval discovered writing nothing but “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” over and over again. It’s the 5th year since my return to photography and my exploration of the grid, and I’m feeling, again like I’m ready to move on to something with a less rigid structure. It was a lot easier to create during my affair with the bipolar borderline bear, oddly, drawing from my sensual immersion rather than from formal and aesthetic problems. It’s the difference in engagement with my subject matter that’s left me dangling. And no, I don’t want that kind of drama in my life again, I just want my work to thrill me in the same way. Without the drama. Stay tuned, gentle reader, I’m sure I’ll figure it out, and then, who knows.