Stuff to get done

Why is there always so much of it?

I can look at life two ways: vertically and horizontally.
The vertical axis involves me and the absolute. The part of all this that is timeless and does not end and extends past the body.
The horizontal axis is all the lateral relationships of people, places and things with which I am involved.
Clearly all the business to accomplish is lateral and not going to extend past this life.
So why am I practically killing myself trying to get it all done?

20130221-213328.jpg

Update ~ Explanation

This blog paused at the end of October because . . .

I wrote a 56,000 word novel the month of November.

256,000 people worldwide attempted this. 81,000 won (meaning they succeeded in writing a novel in a month)

NaNoWriMo.org  is the organization that heralds this cause. I highly recommend them and doing it.

In December I prepared for my interactive exhibiton at The de Young Museum in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. (pictured above)

I was artist in Residence the entire month of January. I created digitally drawn portraits of museum guests in a Magic Glass environment which was entirely designed and fabricated by myself, except for the wood-work on the 8 moving mirror walls which was fabricated by Kai Lundgren-Williams.

Myself and my interns also taught museum guests how to digitally draw self portraits. These are the portraits you see in the photo. My portraits are on the opposite wall and projected on the glass screens.

On the left, me explaining my work at museum party (with live music by Peter Whitehead)

On the right, portrait of museum guest.

 

Now, in mid February  “the kid is back, back on track”  (Brett Dennen)

And   THE BLOG

BetweenStops

continues . . .

 

 

It takes Two (at least)

These two people are reacting to the same news.

It’s like that sometimes. Sometimes it’s W. T. F. wtf? and sometimes

i’m going crazy beacuse of this andsome days it’s all caffeine, banana bread and corn chips

somedays it’s just hard to stay in Balance.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Somedays it isn’t.

Love, Dana