My Favorite Strengths Are My Weaknesses (DRAWINGS)

Experiments in Henna Part I

Henna is hard.

(Top photo: the finished design. Bottom photo: waiting for it to dry.)

Drawing Sculptures at the LACMA

I spent two hours today sketching a sculpture at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). This was my second lesson of a five-session group drawing class that is being offered at the museum every Sunday.

For two hours straight, I sit on a foldable chair with about fifteen other students around a sculpture or a statue, drawing pad and pencil in hand. While we scribble down what we see, our drawing instructor weaves in and out of our semi-circle formation to offer praise, criticism and guidance.

It is amazing how fast two whole hours can pass by when you are completely lost in doing something.

When I am done with my sketches, I get to treat myself with one-dollar produce from the 99 cent store just down the street from the museum.

That is a whole other category of amazing.

Art Art Art

If you happen to be in San Diego this month, consider checking out a group art show I am participating in, occurring in conjunction with the San Diego Asian Film Festival. It's called "Common Grounds" curated by Terry Matsuoka and the 411 is below:

Mission Valley Ultrastar Theatres

7510 Hazard Center Dr, San Diego

Oct 16 - 29

Opening Reception: Oct. 16, 7pm

Participating artists:

Joseph Naval

Alfie Ebojo

Steve 'Shao' Taing

Nicole Terzic

Nomad

Chris Legaspi

Jarrett Quon

Terry Matsuoka
Yumi Sakugawa

I will be showcasing black and white ink drawings. I spent all afternoon today perusing different second-hand stores for decent used frames via bike.





If you're going to be in San Diego, please also check out Etienne! which is also playing at the festival! Ever since I watched it in San Francisco and a (sold-out) screening in Los Angeles, Etienne! has played in a number of festivals in many states, and will be also playing in New York and Hawaii. I highly recommend this movie for all sentient beings.

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Thank you, Tuesday Night Cafe! The silent auction benefiting the victims of the earthquake and typhoon victims in Southeast Asia had an eclectic offering of custom jewelry, artwork, DJ services and other random artsy goodies. All four of my pieces now have a new home. Wherever they are, I hope they bring even a little joy and inspiration to the people who now own them.


"Ready, Set, Go"


"Pensive"



"Bookworm"

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David and I unknowingly and unintentionally got each other an M&M sugar cookie as a surprise this evening. We gross.

Work In Progress Paintings

I haven't painted in ages!

These unfinished puppies will be auctioned off this Tuesday night in Little Tokyo to raise funds for the victims in Southeast Asia affected by the typhoon and earthquake.

Artwork as a vehicle for good karma. This I dig.

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All finished. Boo-ya.

Food Food Food

I got invited by (one of) my favorite person(s) to contribute to a food blog she started with her housemates up in Berkeley. Though I suspect my contributions won't be nearly as gourmet and photogenic as the divine dishes already posted on there, I got so excited by the prospect of guest-blogging about my own home-cooked meals I made a point to take photographs of the tempeh stir-fry I cooked last night. Pictures are coming soon.

Why does food deserve our attention? Why bother with food blogs, elaborate recipes or hard-to-find ingredients? One conclusion I reached is this: the appreciation of good food is democratic. You don't need a fancy education or lots of money to know good food. If you are an Angeleno, you know that good eats are usually lurking in the most jankiest-looking food truck or seedy hole-in-the-wall. You don't need a fancy education or lots of money to know how to cook well, either. Anyone with access to fire, cooking equipment and a few key ingredients can whip up something amazing if she has the curiosity and the soul.

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When I was living with my relatives in Japan, my grandmother woke up at four in the morning to make elaborate sushi rolls that made flower and tree patterns on the rice. She did this anytime we had special guests coming to the family home.

My grandmother was always cooking, offering or preparing food. When she wasn't preparing a meal for the rest of the family, she was out in the garden or the rice field tending the earth for another year's harvest. Anytime there was an extra yield on the farm, she gave away vegetables, fruits and rice grain to her neighbors and friends. In the middle of the morning and in the middle of the afternoon, she made sure that brewed tea and a plate of rice crackers were on the table for the rest of the family to snack on. The abundance of food she gave to others was a direct correlation to the abundance of her love.

This photograph is my computer desktop now. Some meals truly come from a divine synchronicity. Never again will I have a plate of spaghetti as satisfying as the one shared with my boyfriend at the Ghibli Museum restaurant in Japan.

One Small Sliver

Of a bigger drawing.

Below is a mess-up sketch I colored for kicks.

Tattoo Design

These are preliminary ink sketches for a possible tattoo design, coming to a girl near you. Not for me, but for a friend.

I will design your tattoo for free if you are my friend. Sorry, enemies.

What I'm Working On

A blurry snapshot taken with my MacBook camera.

Hokusai's One Hundred Views of Mt. Fuji

At the Hammer Museum, I came across a book of Hokusai's print series "One Hundred Views of Mt. Fuji." It really is one hundred black-and-white prints of the Japanese volcano from every angle, view and context possible. I knew that I was going to buy it as soon as I saw it.

According to the introduction, Hokusai was 75 when he made these prints, and lived for 15 more years before he passed away. He was obsessed with turning 100 years old, and according to one historical record, sighed on his deathbed that if he only lived for five, ten more years, then he could have had a chance of becoming a "real artist."

In his prints, Hokusai leaves many uncolored spaces where I would imagine a younger and less experienced artist would have felt the need to fill it in with meticulous detail. He painstakingly depicts the individual crags and shadows of a distant mountain peak, and yet does not need to draw in the criss-cross weavings of a fisherman's rice paddy hat. Some prints he draws out every single grass blade within a field, and some prints he expresses a waterfall in three simple strokes.

I imagine that when you've been drawing for over seven decades, you have a much more innate sense of what to not draw. The rooftops of houses that do not depict any tiles or straw thatching. The smooth boats that show no cracks, stains or wood grain patterns. I like the undefined aspects of the prints because there's so much trust and faith that comes with these empty, uncolored spaces.

I wish I knew what I am trying to say exactly. To me, it's a sense of self-trust-- that even though every single detail within the drawing isn't completely depicted, the spirit of the image is strong enough to convey its own reality.

If something is made with honesty, it will speak for itself. It needs no additional explanation.

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The day before, I bought a used copy of Persepolis, the autobiographical graphic novel by Marjane Satrapi. Another book of black and white goodness, but in a completely different way.

If I ever become colorblind, I will still enjoy all my art books of monochromatic goodness.

Monk Feeding Turtle (DRAWING)

The Birds Are Upon Us

This morning, I passed by a tree in a parking lot. The tree was enormous. Its leaves covered the branches like a curtain. The tree was also full of angry chirping birds.

Something about the configuration of the curtain-leaves and the branches created an intense echo-chamber effect within the trees. This made the bird chirps sound like a cheesy sound bite, like a self-referential satire of horror movie birds blasted on bad speakers on an endless loop.

More birds were circling overhead in the sky in ragtag army formations, responding to the angry birds in the trees with their own screeching response.

These birds looked like crows from a distance, but they were not crows. Upon closer inspection, these birds were lime-green.

I have never seen a whole tree of lime-green birds in this side of town before. Did a disgruntled household parrot mate with a crow and spawn an entire army of mutant green birds? Are we facing a bird apocalypse?

This is how I began my first morning of jury duty.

Postscript:

Driving home from jury duty, a single bird was standing right in my path on the freeway ramp. If I hadn't honked the horn, the bird would have gotten ran over.

Stop messing with me, birds!

I Don't Miss Childhood (DRAWINGS)

I Want to Go to the Desert (DRAWINGS)

And monkeys.

Bunny Afterlife (DRAWINGS)

And one more

Happy August everyone!