Pitching a tent

A couple weeks ago, the Milk Girl sold a piece out of a show in Maryland. What you can see is a drawing of cups, mismatched, atop a stack of plates. What you can't see is a vague, computer-printed wallpaper pattern underneath the drawing. The drawing is roughly door-sized.



Selling art is such a strange recreation. How many hours go into a six-foot drawing? How do you attribute a value to something, as an individual item, that works as a piece in a group? It's like selling the bricks out of the foundation of your house.



As a couple, our research often runs the same length of brain stem. It makes sense, we talk about our artistic aims (or lack-there-of) almost constantly. The Milk Girl has been collecting images of circus tents. I see large scale recreations of carnival dwellings in our near future. I've been reading 1850's Carnival/Saturnalia Theory and Performance based studies with the primary intention of making a complete ass out of myself while maintaining: free and familiar contact among people, free expression of the latent side of human nature in eccentric conduct, profanations, carnivalistic misalliances, and the combining and uniting of the most disparate and ill-assorted things.