But I digress.
We subscribe to the NY Times so I can read about all this stuff I'm missing. Like a new exhibition at MOMA (NY, not SF) called "Glossolalia: Languages of Drawing." It is described as a mix of drawings by "outsider" artists and "insider" artists - professionals who have been conventionally trained. There are no such labels on the art nor is it segregated in any such way. The link-up for the show is the simple premise that all the exhibiting artists work from internal inspiration and that each artist "has created a unique language with which to express his or her own experience."
I am interested in seeing the show because this is how I work. It all comes from inside, sometimes with little rhyme of reason. I am still working on my "language" as I find it develops more and more each year. I have never called myself an outsider per se, although I supposed I am on the cusp since I lack conventional training such as an MFA. But I have sought foundational training such as the drawing classes I took at UC Berkeley, plus I have taken workshops here and there. My painting, though, is largely self taught - kind of "girl let loose with art supplies."
An interesting distinction about "outsiders" (at least per the article - here is a LINK if you want to read it) is that "outsiders seem not to worry too much about how their creations will appear to others..." I find this fascinating and it also distinguishes me from outsiders as I do tend to care how my work is perceived.
I have seen a lot of outsider art during my last 2 years exhibiting at Kentuck. The art I have observed there (at Kentuck) is all so completely raw. I admire the artist's ability to reach deep within and to express themselves with no apparent edit function. Personally, I love this loose approach, but I know there are folks, such as my husband, who simply don't get it. They prefer their art to be more easily accessible.
I think I admire the raw and loose so much because I have this insane tendency to work and overwork and even, perish the though, think about my work. I finished (perhaps) a new diptych yesterday and displayed it for friends last night at dinner. I talked to my friend Bud about whether it was finished and he said yes. I said I wasn't sure. He probed for my reasons and I admitted somewhat sheepishly that I hadn't bled on it enough. I felt I should have struggled more and messed it up, then salvaged it before pronouncing it done. He just shook his head.
Something a little twisted about that, eh?