chicago pals came to hangout today. it was very familiar and comforting, yet strange. the last time the five of us were in the same space together was three years ago. four years have flown by and here we are, here i am. i exclaimed, "senior year!?" to cat and liz, with the same amount of apprehension, excitement, exhaustion, and anticipation as i felt, the last few days of summer a year ago. i appreciate the way relationships form, at times due to similar interests, other times, opposing opinions, and this group of friends - friends of circumstance, yet i would choose them and seek them out all the same, should this circumstance had not happened.
jokes and sass were thrown across the table, as we each carved our linoleum plates. cat worked intuitively and quickly as she does, her work felt playful and enjoyable. there is always a certain wit and intellect in her studio practice. i felt today, it was simply her, making. and i truly enjoyed watching her process. liz came with an almost finished tiny plate, of a lamp in a flowerpot. conceptual as always, subverting functionality of household items. she printed not with relief inks, but with stamp pads. her prints were whimsical, and a little sinister, yet friendly in its approach. it's on my wall now, the colors seem a little too happy to be true, like something is about to happen. tricia was excited about her cat bebe finally being out of quarantine and back home with her! i'm really glad she's back. she worked out on a sheet of scrap paper how to write her words backwards, and started carving letters and what looked like her room. ryan focused on the precision of his "architectural print", making sure to get the lines as straight as he could. he asked liz about her trip to korea, what cat had been up to, how being back felt like to tricia. it was a really lovely afternoon together.
ryan and i were the only ones standing (just kidding, the rest had to leave for various reasons) at 5ish when he finished carving his block. he asked what the next step was. i demonstrated rolling out the ink, and he took the breyer from me to roll up the block. i saw his eyes light up as he inked it up. "how has no one showed me linocut before?!". i watched as he lifted the paper, and saw his first print. the gleam in his eyes held the excitement of artmaking that i haven't seen in anyone in a while. it caught me offguard to be honest, but in a very pleasant way. i feel like art school/being in art environments/struggling to "be artists" can sometimes be exhausting, yet these moments are so rewarding, and reminds me why i make.
my sister and i also made a bunch of potato prints, of pineapples, and leaves. i remember carrying our heavy art portfolios chockfull of materials to art class every saturday when we were kids a good 16-17 years ago. :)
