Showing posts with label metaphors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label metaphors. Show all posts

March 6, 2020


That is to say, dating is like an exhibition proposal.
It's hit or miss, and it usually has nothing to do with you at all!

In the past six months I've applied for 15 or more artist opportunities.
Of those applications, three accepted me, two of which I didn't hear back from for six months after my submission. This is way better odds than I'm used to, but I can still say from experience that it's so easy to feel deflated when none of the dots are connecting the way you want them to. Getting into your head and rationalizing where you went wrong only makes it worse.

The last "rejection" email I got this morning was extra thoughtful and it confirmed something I already knew, which is that most of the time, it's not personal. Most of the time, whether you get selected for a juried show, a group or solo exhibition, is highly dependent on so many other factors outside of your qualifications and the merits of your work.

Now, don't get me wrong, I have not gone out with 15 or more people in the past six months! but I can safely say that I've crossed paths with a handful of amazing, beautiful, and intriguing souls. The worst thing I could do is to take any rebuff or dismissal from said souls as a personal rejection. Trust me, I've done just that a few times. But, it's not personal, and I know this. It simply can't always be a good fit, and there are unknown factors outside my qualifications and merits that come into play. Still, I've been told I'm too much, I'm complicated, I'm lazy, etc. Going forward, listen, I appreciate the directness, for real. There is nothing worse than polite aloofness. However, I'd much prefer a thoughtful email explaining how courageous I am to even submit myself, and how grateful you are to even have had the chance to consider me and get to know my work.

February 11, 2020

finding meaning

Samantha Palmeri, Unravel, 2018, oil and charcoal on canvas, 60 x 60 inches

When I titled this piece, a little over a year ago, I pictured unraveling as a breaking apart of things, and it felt like a good metaphor for me. 

So much has changed since November 2018, and I can now appreciate that to unravel is also to untangle, and resolve

I've never shown the painting before, so I'm excited that the timing seems so perfect to have it included in a group exhibition coming up in March in Beacon, NY. 

Loss doesn't equal failure

This is hard to sink in because we are brainwashed to believe we need things that we don't really need, and that we are supposed to want things that we don't always want. We can make our own rules and find our own way of doing things. Things that make us feel most like ourselves. Even if, and especially when, it doesn't make any sense to anyone but us.

I lose them all
little by little
and then all at once
in this sea of loss
I find things
in packing your bags
my lost kimono
and in filling my voids
without warning
the answer
Here all along

May 2, 2019

Making it up the mountain

I've been making my way up the mountain. That's both real and metaphorical.

The walk up Beacon mountain starts just three houses from mine. I've climbed to the top a bunch of times, but lately it seems like more of a struggle.

Today I'm happy to say I made it even further up.
The bugs getting stuck in my hair were actually more of a challenge than the steep climb. Which reminded me of course of a song my father used to sing to me. Because most things in life remind me of a song my father used to sing to me.

Hair from the play Hair:
"Darlin', give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair. Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen. Give me down to there hair, shoulder length or longer. Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair. I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy, snaggy, shaggy, ratty, Matty, oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen. Hair, hair, hair, hair."

I have this idea to make a book of photocopies of my hair. Here are the first two.

September 30, 2015

unavoidable metaphors everywhere

here's what I just learned this week: that muscles do not actually grow bigger the more you work them out. muscles develop tiny little tears that repair themselves, which makes them thicker and stronger than they were before. the body repairs the damaged muscle with new and improved muscle protein. in other words, muscles need to break down before they can build themselves up. and interestingly, this does not happen while you're actually doing the workout, it happens while you rest, after the workout.

I think that is amazing. I think it's amazing that God would make it that way (yes... I said God), and it makes me wonder and imagine all the million billion minute details of our bodies and our lives that God has also made that way.

in essence, nothing was really meant to be easy. we have to just figure out which battles are the most important, and how to carve out little moments of peace for ourselves.

Samantha Palmeri drawing
2 drawings from 2 days ago

today I plan to carve out some more charcoal drawings for myself, a similar process of breaking down and building up. like both a battle and a moment of peace at the same time.