I walked home alone at night even though I'm told not to

Oh, the admin has gotten out of control, as has my cookie-eating habit. Which must stop; I feel an infection coming on from my eating-like-a-starving-artist ways. Cutting back on wheat, pronto. But I wove two more little fellas today before heading to the Josh Ritter concert (part of the Cathedral Quarter Arts Festival).

The first time I met Josh was in a breakout orientation group in some dorm at Oberlin. We had to do a terrible ice breaker where you take the first letter of your first name and find a word that describes you that also starts with that name. Jolly Josh, Kind Kiwon, and Anal Aimee are all I can remember--I don't remember who else was in the group. 15 years later, he is still very, very jolly. The new material is superb. He was nonstop. The crowd was surprisingly tame and polite. I totally cried. There's not much to say b/c it has been said a million times, but I absolutely love that he works so hard, is still so true to his voice, and is still so in love with what he does. I listened to him a lot during my first official residency in Nebraska four years ago, and it was amazing to see where we are today. Tonight, both in Belfast.

Re-settling

I have been swimming in admin, coinciding w/the cold weather that keeps me home w/the heat. I decided today to walk south and get more greenery before heading to the studio today, and made a return visit to the Ulster Museum. I was looking for this trade union banner that Deirdre told me about, b/c she found it so interesting that Eve is covering her face, though women had a huge role in industry here. I also got postcards of my fave painting there, a portrait of Francis Stuart, by Neil Shawcross. And stared at it for a while.

I went into the tropical portion of the botanic garden, which is probably a good place for people who aren't used to the climate here but like warmer, humid, GREEN places. I wandered around the university quarter and tried out a new post office before heading uptown. I stopped by the gallery at Queens Street to see the new exhibit, which nearly made me blind.

I made a detour to photograph this sign that I had seen from a bus (but it wasn't my stop so I couldn't jump off). I'm almost done weaving my piece, though I'm frustrated with some mistakes I've made on it. I had to leave early b/c I was so overwhelmed by the residual shit smell from my shoe so I came home and got down to business: thick lemon bleach, boiling water, q-tips, patience. I hope it all turns out b/c I'm gunning for serious studio time tomorrow before I hit some openings.

Spent in the best of ways

This is the first image of me in Northern Ireland that I didn't take.

The beach at Portrush. I touched the water but not with my feet.

Portrush town hall. Apparently this is a popular tourist town.

I was still eating my ice cream cone when we got into the car.

The rest of my causeway pics are here.

My legs are sore from climbing. I met Lucinda this morning and she drove us up the coast (treacherous but gorgeous) to the Giant's Causeway, a world heritage site. Stunning views--lots of rounding a corner and being wowed. Reminded me of a trip to Honolulu years ago, the deep dips into water. Lucinda found a hermit crab in the water amidst the basalt hexagons and we were lucky to beat the crowds. We drove to Portrush, walked along the beach, saw people on the amusement park rides, ate lunches she packed, and got yummy ice cream before driving back and stopping at the Dunluce Castle--beautiful ruins.

My first published self-portrait not using Photo Booth. I don't know how I did this since I was hiking up very steep steps at the same time. Here are the rest of the castle pics.

We took a slightly different route back to Belfast and then stopped at Ikea for stuff. I got a frypan for 99 pence so now I can finally cook eggs! It was a perfect outing. I thought I was going to write more but I am exhausted and need to pack for papermaking tomorrow!

Clouds can be so moody

I've been rehashing stuff in the studio, hanji that I've brought, to keep myself busy as ideas percolate. I left the studio around 3pm b/c I was getting cold and sleepy and really needed a shower. But once I got home and showered, the sun came out! Oh, and tomorrow (Fri Apr 16) is the opening for a show of artists who will be teaching at the Morgan this year! If you're in Cleveland, swing by (7-9pm) and see three of my hanji pieces.

I'm booked solid for the next three days, have Monday free, and then more work come Tuesday. I wonder if it's possible for me to be in a place and NOT do that to myself. I'm hoping that the weather holds for all of it, especially a causeway trip! Since I've heard a rumor of SNOW soon. I am not happy about that but I guess my bracing for colder weather was not in vain.

Monday richness

Wow. It has been a big day! I knew that even before I arrived, since it was the day that executive power of police and justice affairs of NI was handed over from London to Belfast. Shortly after midnight, a car bomb exploded not far from the city, but luckily no one was killed. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and after Eleanor and I both got a solid night of sleep and morning of work, she took me for a drive through the city.

[The depression and suicide rates here are high, not surprising after so much war.] It was amazing. She is incredibly generous with her time and knowledge, and she knows SO MUCH about so much. She pointed out interface areas, Loyalist areas, Nationalist areas, murals, cafes, the Asian market, the street to eat good food, the cool artist studios, the area that the Flax housing used to be in, police stations that used to be military barracks, black cabs, surveillance cameras, empty lots and highways and walls used to separate communities, painted curbs, flags, and symbols galore.

She had wanted to take me to a graveyard for Republicans but we got very lost for a while and actually ended up visiting two others before we finally found the right one. It was a good adventure that even took us to Lisburn (a city SW of Belfast) momentarily, and up high for a view. I learned intense things about history here, the present situation, and also about herself.

It was sooooo much to take in but incredibly rich and valuable. I had asked her about etiquette when it came to Fiona in the studio telling me that I was welcome to knock on her door up the street any time, and Eleanor said that it was fine to call on neighbors; that is being a proper neighbor (in the US, I am used to people just saying, "let's hang out," but with no intention of doing so). So I had texted Fiona to say hello and she ended up coming by around 8pm for tea.

That was another fabulous talk, and we talked about this neighborhood, being outsiders, racism and how it is here as opposed to the south (as in Ireland), New York (she had done a residency in the city in the summer), real estate, gentrification, travel, and then the nightmare of border control. I told her about my experience and since she runs another non-profit arts org that has an international residency program, she shared their experiences and challenges. To make me feel better about my crossing, she told me a dreadful story about her friends, a married couple, who were separated for 7 mos b/c of crazy red tape. One of them actually got sent right back and was not allowed to enter the US. So at least I am here, right?

It was great to have such good quality time with both artists. I'm glad that they will be around. Tomorrow an English artist arrives for a few days. And I will finally get back to the studio!

More and more surprises

Last night, I found out that an artist will be coming on Tuesday to stay at the house until Friday. I was taken by surprise, but went about my day today as I had planned: a big, fat lazy Sunday. Got up around 7:30am, did laundry (which took about 2.5 hours in the machine--clearly, I have not figured out this new contraption) and hung it to dry, cleaned a little in anticipation of this man's stay, and even found grease to oil my very squeaky bedroom door. I waited until 1pm for the supermarket to open so I could stock up on groceries, and got some junk food to gorge on, which I did, while surfing the web aimlessly. I was upstairs in the bathroom when I heard a noise that sounded like knocking.

And what do you know! Eleanor, the artist who used to be the studio manager at Flax, and now rents a room in the house, was at the door. I had no idea she was coming today. Apparently she was supposed to come on Friday but came a little later. Thank goodness I was somewhat decent and had done most of my dishes. But it's weird going from having a space alone to sharing space (esp when I only found out about this part of the deal when I arrived). I have a feeling this will not be the kind of residency where I make a whole lot of work. Eleanor said that most of the int'l artists make their most interesting work afterwards. I doubt I will be an exception.

But she invited me along to see a friend, whose friend was playing today in a band. I don't remember the name of the venue, or the band, but it was a 6-woman Irish band. The venue was freezing, and afterwards Eleanor and I went to a pub to get some dinner. Then to another one to get a beer. We sat outside so she could smoke, so we were cold when we got home. She's turned in for the night but I am still processing--she knows SO MUCH. I love her view of Belfast, as she is also an outsider, from Ireland (the Republic). She does community art and is working with the Travellers, a nomadic minority on the island. She knows tons about all sorts of things, and while we swapped respective weirdness about our home countries, she asked why Americans were so against the health care bill. I had no good answers for her. I also talked about how everything these days makes me so sad: Poland's loss, uproar in Kyrgyzstan, being here and feeling the tension. But also about how to work through that. She said she still remembers my brick wall images and I was like, that's the problem! It's been four years since I made that piece, and it's all people want from me. If I just kept making paper brick walls, maybe I would be "successful" but I know there's more. But it's taking forever to push through. I read this today and it kind of made me feel like, okay, it's not just me (though obviously I am NOT trying to compare myself with Josh Ritter but I really admire how he worked super hard to do what he was passionate about doing, and is making a living doing exactly that).

And speaking of Oberlin (he and I were in the same graduating class), this very lovely exhibit is now open there, with one of my favorite books. And I have a lead on some papermaking that will be going down this coming weekend in Bangor at a printshop (whose residency looks nice! Printmakers, take note!) that has had some exposure to basic papermaking, through Pyramid Atlantic and Gretchen Schermerhorn.

And even better

Today was fabulous. These are the wishes that people wrote onto hanji in Lake George at the end of last year, as part of an interactive piece I did. I woke up at 8am today and was tired, not wanting to do anything, so I shamelessly ate a pot of ramen and watched trashy American TV.

Luckily, after all that trash, I stood in the kitchen doing dishes, thinking, "Aimee, what do you really want to do today?" Since I had a whole list of things left to do, but wanted to only do what I wanted today, as my Friday treat. I realized I was finally ready to pack up my studio gear and haul it into the studio. Down three flights of stairs here, on a bus, through the city center, and up four flights of stairs. Hooray! I still don't know exactly how I'm going to use this space, but I tried to angle the desk to maximize light from above and not have shadows fall on my work. I typed out notes from the past few days, met a couple more artists, and heard some more but haven't done proper introductions yet. Mike has the studio next to me, Aisling met me on my first full day here and has already been super helpful, and Fiona has the studio under me and happens to live on the same street as me!

After my hands got cold and my stomach empty, I left the studio and got a sandwich from a place that Aisling recommended, and then headed south because I decided I wanted to try the other things on my list after all. I was aiming for the Botanic Garden and Ulster Museum but saw signs for the Ormeau Baths Gallery, and took a quick detour there. I'm so glad I did. It is freaking beautiful. Inside and out. It's a really interesting space, the way they've built it, on different levels and with tons of space. Gorgeous. I walked in at the same time as an elderly man, and we left nearly the same time and he smiled at me when I was snapping pics of the outside. I would have liked to talk with him but was dead set on making it all the way south.

I realized what I had been missing all along as I trekked: the city!! South Belfast is where it's at: a much more diverse, lively, and younger crowd. It also houses Queens University, the gardens, and the museum. I felt like I could breathe again b/c it actually felt like a city and I could recognize it as such. Less of those stoplight button things for pedestrians--you just cross when you can. It's very freeing. There was a wedding party in the gardens.

The air was different once I found an entrance and got into the gardens, and I thought, "I found it! I found green space!!!" I was so relieved.

This is right in front of the library at the university. The woman I met yesterday said it's a lovely place to visit, so I will certainly be back. Especially now that I know this entire neighborhood would be a great place to hang out, work, etc.

And the crown jewel of today: the Ulster Museum. I thought that I would just zip thru in less than an hour before I arrived, but I ended up staying until closing. It is amazing. They redid it and it's only been open since the end of last year, but I was so impressed. It's SO FULL, of all sorts of things. I started at the top, since I had been tipped off that the top is where the contemporary art is. But it's like this rabbit hole of everything in the world. There is something behind every corner. I swear. You know how you go to museums and wonder if there is something around the corner but usually there isn't? Well, here it's like worlds inside worlds inside worlds. I love that they tried to address all different audiences, and have "discovery" centers on each floor for children, but they're not necessarily shoved to the side. You can see through glass doors to the activities, and they can see right back to the exhibits. Like many places I've visited so far, there are some issues w/accessibility but at least they have wheelchair lifts on some of the staircases. I loved walking through a huge painting gallery, seeing a little pile of hay under a painting, and two pairs of bunny ears and a big carrot under another. It wasn't part of the art: it was obviously part of a treasure hunt for children. Brilliant.

They had natural history, Irish history, Irish art through different generations, international contemporary art, drawings and watercolors, world cultures, an exhibit on the Spanish Armada, crafts, and who knows what else. They have a great cafe and gift shop area on the ground floor as well. The exhibit that had me in tears, of course, was dedicated to the Troubles. It was so sad but it worked. And after reading some of the huge panels, I was finally able to decipher the graffiti on my back wall at home.

[I wish these reminders were everywhere b/c I still don't know which way to look before crossing.] It's good to know I can always go back for more; both the museum and gardens are free and in a part of town I definitely want to visit again. I would have explored the garden and area more but my body was spent so it took all I had left to walk back to City Centre to get a bus home (the bus system here still only runs buses from the center out, but doesn't connect the other areas to each other). It was funny to see the traffic of people all coming at me: obviously, everyone coming home from work. I wish I lived there, too!

A real holiday

Yesterday I took a walk and saw everyone walking in the same direction: to a rugby game. I didn't care to partake but on the way back saw this, which was like some kind of freak portrait of me right now. Ha!

I went to bed somewhere between 2 and 3am but got up at 10am. I think it was the intense sun demanding to be let into my room.

So I obliged, and had some brunch, and then set out for the goal I set yesterday: to walk to and from the studio, to get my bearings. Not to work, since I had no guarantee that I would FIND the studio. And I can't deal with trying to get myself in with three keys and an alarm system. It was enough to see it and then double back.

I nearly got run over a few times b/c I still don't quite understand how the whole driving on the other side of the road business works. I mean, I get that it's opposite from what I'm used to, but all things related to driving exacerbate my dyslexia and I would think, "wait, how do we drive at home?" and then tried to reverse it. Doesn't work. I keep staring at the triangles in the road, wondering if they are arrows or the signal to yield.

More people were out than I expected for Easter, and the weather was totally lovely. So that was a treat. I'm definitely in suspended animation, and though I know I have deadlines, I feel completely unconnected to that part of my life right now. To the point where I don't care about missing them all. Amber asked if I would start a flickr set of images, and though I usually wait until the end to do that, I figured, why not?

"Infusion"

Those foundations used to be huge buildings. They are now all gone. Such a clean job--it's like they were never there. One of the buildings had "RESEARCH" on the side of it. A new life for the riverfront.

Apparently hospitals now say "infusion treatment" in lieu of "IV" these days. Ridiculous, I think. But imagine this picture that E so kindly shared, and imagine after the "infusion" that the turkey got up and jumped out of the pan and started to do a big dance. That is what happened to me today. I had a fabulous, long visit with Helena today, complete with Korean food, history lessons, tea, logistics about a possible visit to her lake house in May, and one of the 99 names of Allah. I felt totally rejuvenated and it helped confirm my vision for the coming months: Belfast for spring, Cleveland in the summer, and Ithaca in September. Then I had a good Thai dinner w/my sis and her husband, and then more tea. I finished reading Edwidge Danticat's The Farming of Bones on the train.

Also, Elizabeth shared this with me: a link about hanji for Spanish speakers! Well, my video isn't in Spanish. But then I thought, if I subtitled in other languages, that would be great, huh? Though my goal had always been limited to spreading hanji to English speakers, that was only b/c of my own linguistic deficiencies. The moving images would still make sense in any other language.

Finally, there's a great art auction happening online. Helena and I talked about how much the consumption of art has changed, and how people can easily have a comprehensive experience of an artist w/o ever leaving a computer, paying money, or experiencing the work directly. As much as I am all for people worldwide reading about artists, looking at their websites, enjoying the images, and so on, actually buying and owning real tangible art is also fabulous, and just as private. Getting to live with art is something everyone should get to do, I think. So if you covet something and can afford it, treat yourself!

Irritable, waiting

I feel badly about being unwilling to talk to people, tired of being asked when Ben is leaving and how I am doing and probably I'm fine, right, since I have so much to keep me busy? The tricky thing being that these people are going to be my support net when he does leave so I can't be completely detached. But most of my energy is going towards work and living with a chronic condition that flares up with stress, so I am a big ball of itchy ALL THE TIME now. But thank goodness I live in an era where smallpox is not a threat to me, since I wouldn't be allowed to get a vaccine.

But on the bright side, I'm done with another book and am hoping to finish a required reading (aka papermaking text) this weekend before settling into an assigned one (Ben's helping w/email prompts and reading suggestions, which I am trying to speed through while he's here, though I have to be working on three other articles simultaneously). This was my favorite quote from the last book:

There are two words whose meanings reflect our somewhat warped attitudes toward levels of commitment to physical or mental activities. These are the terms amateur and dilettante. Nowadays these labels are slightly derogatory. An amateur or a dilettante is someone not quite up to par, a person not to be taken very seriously, one whose performance falls short of professional standards. But originally, "amateur," from the Latin verb amare, "to love," referred to a person who loved what he was doing. Similarly a "dilettante," from the Latin delectare, "to find delight in," was someone who enjoyed a given activity. The earliest meanings of these words therefore drew attention to experiences rather than accomplishments; they described the subjective rewards individuals gained from doing things, instead of focusing on how well they were achieving. Nothing illustrates as clearly our changing attitudes toward the value of experience as the fate of these two words. There was a time when it was admirable to be an amateur poet or a dilettante scientist, because it meant that the quality of life could be improved by engaging in such activities. But increasingly the emphasis has been to value behavior over subjective states; what is admired is success, achievement, the quality of performance rather than the quality of experience. Consequently it has become embarrassing to be called a dilettante, even though to be a dilettante is to achieve what counts most--the enjoyment one's actions provide.

--Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow

I know there are light and dark sides to everything, including the dangers of rabid amateurs (like dentists who are history buffs who think they are entitled to dictate the content of student textbooks while driven by very clear ulterior motives). But I still remember learning the real meaning of "professional." It's getting paid to so something, but has nothing to do with how you actually behave. After I figured that out, I lost interest in being a professional anything.

Rejuvenated by Canada

We've eaten four so far; two left.

Happy year of the tiger! This was the tiny parade we saw today in Chinatown while walking to find a good Vietnamese place where we stuffed ourselves.

Winterlude! We didn't skate, but we did set foot onto the crowded canal. Ottawa was beautiful and cold and just what we needed to process V Day, the new year, Presidents Day, and Mardi Gras tomorrow.

Mostly odd ends

I had a years-too-late realization that I don't have to work on the weekends. Meaning, it's okay not to touch my email, or other "action items" on my computer. And it's okay not to open the computer. So this weekend I finished reading a book that made me laugh aloud at this point:

Many years ago, when I was writing editorials for the New York Herald Tribune, the editor of the page was a huge and choleric man from Texas named L. L. Engelking. I respected him because he had no pretense and hated undue circling around a subject. Every morning we would all meet to discuss what editorials we would like to write for the next day and what position we would take. Frequently we weren't quite sure, especially the writer who was an expert on Latin America.

"What about that coup in Uruguay?" the editor would ask.

"I could represent progress for the economy," the writer would reply, "or then again it might destabilize the whole political situation. I supposed I could mention the possible benefits and then--"

"Well," the man from Texas would break in, "let's not go peeing down both legs."

It was a plea he made often, and it was the most inelegant advice I ever received. But over a long career of writing reviews and columns and trying to make a point I felt strongly about, it was also probably the best.

--William Zinsser, On Writing Well

Yiok

Today, Ben and I checked out of the hotel and he dropped me off at the bus stop after getting me a Wawa breakfast sandwich. We boarded the bus and then suddenly were instructed to unload and board a different one around the corner, but besides a random stop in front of a Bob Evans in Jersey and another random rest stop for one passenger, it was fairly uneventful. Once in NYC, I rushed to meet Katherine and her friend Andy, and we spent hours at a cafe. It was just like seeing her in Korea except I might have chattered faster since I'm back in the English-speaking groove. I was going to have dinner w/them, too, but when I called home, it turned out that Mom had made a batch of new year's soup just for me, so I rushed through the cold and wind to inhale it. It's a Korean tradition, even though I didn't do it properly since I had it on the second day of the new year instead of the first.

Yesterday, I bolted awake at 6am in the hotel room we were sharing w/a couple friends of Ben, upset over a very recent development - someone very close to me was wrongfully terminated on new year's eve. Literally dragged into HR on a vacation day to be informed of the process of firing, and then given a phone call a couple hours confirming it. Everyone else was passed out from partying (that's my confetti gun pointed at Ben) so I raced through vindictive thoughts for about an hour or two before falling asleep again. Thank goodness for friends like Velma, who sent some comfort and words of solace and advice.

We met up w/Ben's friends and ended up at a Chinese/Asian restaurant for lunch, which included ice cream on the house. After heading back to the party house for video game action, we napped before heading to south Philly to meet Joy for dinner at a bar that served vegan food along w/the usual bar fare. She had hung out w/a mutual friend who had asked her why I go to random places to make art. Many think that I could flourish if I settled in one place, "got a job," and worked from there. But it's not time for that yet, though I like to think that I do have a plan that will unfold slowly. When I'm 80, it will all make sense.

[This was the "arts and crafts" table at the party where you could decorate your own cup. A very yummy homemade cake is under the lid in the back.] On the eve, mom got me a scrub and massage at the sauna, and I got a long-overdue haircut. We had yummy tofu soup before heading home. Ben arrived in the afternoon and we swapped out luggage before embarking on a stressful drive to Philadelphia, but got there in time for a good dinner w/his friends before their party. His friends are sweet and thoughtful and work hard to be inclusive, which involved strapping an electric guitar on me in hopes that I would rock out (I failed. Somehow my fingers forgot the five chords I used to know). Yesterday, I said, "I don't have health insurance!!" when we walked in front of oncoming traffic, so after that, they would all surround me while crossing streets to protect me. Nice boys are the best.

During the party, the boys were trying to figure out a name for the new year, and came up with Y10K. Ben decorated his party cup with sticker letters that spelled "YIOK" and Kevin used blue tape to spell it on the basement wall. Being typographically picky, I assumed they were all letters, and figured it was another William & Mary (their alma mater) inside joke. 24 hours later at dinner with Joy, Ben explained the slogan to her and only then did it come together in my mind.

Like I said before, everything will make sense in time!