Body w/o Organs: 2010-2013?

I have decided to retire this blog.  It started out as an enthusiastic attempt to get my art out to the world, but in retrospect, it turned out to be more of a journal, or a personal chronicling of my last years at art school-and a rather disorganized one at that.  Seeing as that chapter has been closed since last May, It's time to bid farewell to Body Without Organs.

I have taken to Tumblr as a space for my art and its documentation:
http://shinyandclear.tumblr.com/

Hopefully I'll get around to making tons of new work/uploading it all soon.

Summary

For the past year and a half or so, I've had an awkward habit of clipping obituary notices out of the newspaper.  But I only go for the photos of the recently deceased old woman pictured as a young gal.  Not sure why.  It all started with Lillian (see below...somewhere.)  Her photo was so dark (literally) and melancholy and beautiful that I had to clip it out.  From there, my collection spontaneously grew.  I had no specific plans for these clippings (apart from creepily collecting photos of peoples' dead relatives) but I ultimately decided to make portraits of these gals.  Each of these is approximately 4" x 5", on ripped-up scraps of printmaking paper.  I'd hopefully like to make one or two substantially large, highly-rendered drawings on wooden panels.  I know these women, I know their stories, and I'd like to hope that they are okay with what I'm doing.

Harriet

A brief gander at a new drawing series I'm working on! This is Harriet! 

External

Little

This is me, circa 1992.  Well, "circa" is the incorrect preposition, as it is specifically dated February 7th 1992.  I was about two and a half years old.  How adorable.  My chin runneth over.  I actually have the same haircut now, as I did twenty years ago.  I was a painter then, too.  A slightly chubby painter with bangs.  Not much has changed.  Well, back then I didn't have to ponder my deep, conceptual purposes  for making something.  Not that I do now, either.

I just painted, clad only in my one-piece swimsuit and vinyl smock, with my water-soluble, urinal-cake-looking tempera paint blocks, over a freshly-lain bed of funny pages. 

Not much has changed.

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