Garbage Work, Not Garbage Person

With some regularity, a wounded writer appears, whether in my office or in these online spaces. Although the contexts vary, the type of wounding is remarkably similar: some gatekeeper has taken it upon him or herself to judge the writer unfit. This judgment often takes the form of unsolicited advice about a change in career.

Making at the End of the World

A world that is hostile—because it is too hot, or too racist, or too authoritarian, too misogynist, or too neglectful of your community’s health crisis—is a world that is at least indifferent if not antagonistic to your making.

“stigma can also be internalized, such as when I doubt my own impulses to integrate my experiences as a mother in my work” Featured Artist: Susana Ruiz

What’s been the best surprise about having a creative life in motherhood?
The media landscape expands! As a media artist, my world has become so much bigger and infinitely more interesting since motherhood. I go through my children’s cultural preoccupations and eccentricities with them and I, too, grow. My Little Pony this month? Okay. Red Dead Redemption non-stop for the entire weekend? Okay. Kendrick Lamar last week and Public Enemy this week? Okay. Unboxing Toys videos on YouTube? Fine.

The Water of Attention

Without attention, the projects behave badly, turning a little weird. Job application, I think, why did you get so ponderous and stale? You, book proposal, what are these funny little sentences? And, as they curdle, I start to resent them: uggh, why are you still kicking around? Isn’t it time for you to graduate or get a job or something?

Yeah, but did you puke? (why I take classes)

Riffing on Portlandia, we’ve decided that any charcoal disaster can be solved by “putting a pear on it.” My drawings are full of pears that exist nowhere in the original still life.