To make is to be by Hans Stofer.

(Inspiring Extract from Professor Hans Stofer’s keynote talk at the Craft Scotland Conference 2013)

What I like about making is that the pace of making dictates the pace of thinking. It is a bit like walking and thinking. This helps me to organize and structure my thoughts and allows the subconscious do the work.

There are many different types of making:

There is making to be in touch with what is real.

There is making to experience another reality.

There is making as thinking.

There is making as a reflective process.

There is making to visualize the unexpected and hidden.

There is making as revealing.

There is making to discover.

There is making to cover up.

There is making to produce stuff for others.

There is making not to have to feel.

There is making to let off steam.

There is making to help you focus your thoughts.

There is making to feel alive.

There is making to make sense.

There is making as an attitude.

There is making as identity.

There is thinking about making as an imagined form of making.

There is making as healing.

There is making as repair.

There is making as a form of object – rebirth.

And there is making as something that is essential to define the self.

 

But ultimately, to make is to hold OUR world between our hands.

 

 

 

 

 

The dark side of the heart..

The eternal film..

 

Will you vote for me?

So there is this fair in Madrid which sells directly to shops, I am participating with my commercial work for a booth 🙂

Just need votes to go to the next stage, it´s just a click, so I wanted to ask if you can vote or share my project?

http://yosoybisutex.com/2017/proyecto/index.php?id=35#first

Thank you!

 

It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there

https://youtu.be/7JBHyE18L3o

The wisdom of no escape.

There is a story of a woman running away from tigers. She runs and runs and the tigers are getting closer and closer. When she comes to the edge of a cliff, she sees some vines there, so she climbs down and holds on to the vines. Looking down, she sees that there are tigers below her as well. She then notices that a mouse is gnawing away at the vine to which she is clinging. She also sees a beautiful little bunch of strawberries close to her, growing out of a clump of grass. She looks up and she looks down. She looks at the mouse. Then she just takes a strawberry, puts it in her mouth, and enjoys it thoroughly. Tigers above, tigers below. This is actually the predicament that we are always in, in terms of our birth and death. Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life.
– Pema Chödrön, The Wisdom of No Escape.

Work and Play.

Silent movies.

A friend introduced me to them and the minute he started singing it was pure, so powerful!

Been sharing ever since:

Bernar Venet Undetermined line 1988 pastel and collage on paper

Sleepless nights..

It seems the earliest I ever go to sleep it’s 2am, regardless of the day I had, how early I woke up.

It’s been like this for years and I’ve come to terms with it.

Night time is my time…

Tonight I was listening to “Stand up” by Jethro Tull and I thought I should share this song:

 

I recommend the whole album which you can find here:

I always try to discover new music and listen to music all day long while I work, while I’m doing errands down the street, when I shower, when I’m cooking, when I’m falling asleep (Arvo Pärt it’s perfect for this) ..but I always seem to come back to a few favorites.

I have a playlist that gets me in the mood to do things on a lazy day…

I have music for running…

I have music for stressful days…

I know exactly what to play when I miss certain places..

Music for when I miss certain people..

It is a constant in my life and I am greatful for any recommendations always 🙂

Good night!

*wait.. one more:

 

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

White on white

I was having dinner with a friend in a little spanish terrace about two years ago.

We were initially talking about adrenaline, work, the summer and then out of the blue he asked me a question that has stayed with me until today.

“Could you please explain to me why a person can cry in front of a painting or a piece of art?, are you born with this sensitivity,  or is this a learned behavior, is it taught?.

In the most humble attempt to try to answer this question, I told him that at least for me there are clearly certain things that move me or excite me, that deep down it all comes down to how it makes you feel. Though I have to admit that ever since I started studying and finding out more of the historical background of the work and  the lives  and inspirations of the artists it gives the pieces a broader depth and power.

Then, I thought of my grandmother and  we’ve developed very sweet conversations on the phone (we are old school, no skype) , where she  asks me about what I am doing in the university, she enjoys hearing stories about the things I see, the people I meet, why I do what I do and asks a lot of questions.

When I visit, I love showing her my friend’s work , photos of things I saw in museums and hearing what she thinks about the pieces, sometimes she just laughs but other times she usually starts the  sentence with  ” This reminds me of…” and associates it with her own life.

Which brings me to the answer of how I would answer the  question today. It all  comes down to  have the desire and curiosity to truly observe and keep asking questions, art conveys individual emotions but you have to be willing to be in the receiving part.

Like I said this was two years ago, ever since from time to time I have asked a few of my teachers and friends this question as well and it leads to very interesting conversations.

What do you think?

Today I leave you with a painting by Kazimir Malevich which he considered “the supremacy of pure feeling.”

“Only when the habit of one’s consciousness to see in paintings bits of nature, Madonna’s and shameless nudes.. ..has disappeared, shall we see a pure painting composition. I have transformed myself into the nullity of forms and pulled myself out of the circle of things, out of the circle-horizon in which the artist and forms of nature are locked.”

• as quoted in: Marc Chagall, – a Biography, Sidney Alexander, Cassell, London, 1978, p. 178