Making Mother’s Day collages has become somewhat of a personal tradition. I received a bewildered call from my German Grandmother, her voice trembling, saying: “I got this thing in the mail and didn’t know what on earth it was or what to do with it, but then I realized you made it.” That’s how I roll.
Materials: Martha Stewart’s Whole Living, National Geographic, and a JCPenny Catalog.
Doing docs as a one-woman-crew can be challenging. I am grateful to the polite Pittsburgh passersby who – upon encountering a lanky, bespectacled woman clenching a walkie-talkie-style mic receiver in one armpit, sheets of wrinkled interview questions and tangled wires in the other, while balancing a handheld camera, and begging the universe for a steady-yet-dynamic finesse only garnered through years of tai chi (she only had one class, which she dropped mid-semester) – refrain from laughing loudly enough to disrupt the shoot. And oh, the strange expressions that overcome her face as revelations dawn on her in medias res: “Forget the tripod, Imma start lifting weights”, “Did I really just enlist the subjects to help me light that shot?”, and “I think I need another external hard drive/How many terabytes can I share a bedroom with before my head explodes?”
So before the terabytes attack (i.e. – editing commences) it’s extremely heartening to receive a Creative Development Grant from The Pittsburgh Foundation. The grant is brand new and part of a larger initiative called, Investing in Professional Artists, which promises to catalyze artistic activity in the region and propel Pittsburgh to another plane of consciousness (my words, not theirs). I felt well-prepped to apply after attending Flight School last year, a nine-week fellowship focused on bringing some of the diligence with which we artists approach our art to the realm of business skillz. Lesson 1) You shouldn’t substitute an s with a z, unless you want to write the best grant proposal ever! No. Don’t do that.
Just the other night, I attended the finale of this year’s Flight School, which included microbrews and micro-presentations by 16 amazing artists at the Waffle Shop (an eatery/TV production studio/social experiment) and I can’t reiterate enough: PITTSBURGH IS AWESOME! Imagine looking up from your watch as you await an infamously late bus, only to find yourself giddy, rather than bummed, beholding a mischevious creation by Pittsburgh artist and recent Flight School Fellow, Will Schlough.
Some say that Portland is out and Pittsburgh is in. All I know is that I’ve been diggin’ it for the past seven years. Expect to run into David V. Matthews and I around town this summer on our filming adventures for Aspie Seeks Love. David is a writer and artist living in Pittsburgh who was diagnosed with Asperger’s at age 40. He’s on a quest to understand his diagnosis and himself, find love, and release his first novel. This still is from our trip to the Carnegie Science Center last fall. To witness David chillin’ in the robot exhibit with the likes of Hal 9000, you’ll have to wait and see the movie.
Exciting things to come in Pittsburgh: 1) Evolver Convergence featuring Daniel Pinchbeck – June 1st-3rd 2) Pittsburgh’s own Girl Talk live on June 9th & 3) Filming of Gus Van Sant’s Promised Land – 2012 ongoing
I’m ecstatic to announce that Healthy Artists just won the audience choice award at the Progressive Visions Film Festival! The video we submitted included our portraits on three amazing artists – Robert Isenberg, Mary Tremonte, and Sigh MeltingStar - who did a bit of show and tell with their artwork before confiding their health care stories. The award was named after Karen Peterson, a lifelong activist, public health educator, and raging granny. Thanks to everyone who voted!
Julie with festival organizer, Ron Gaydos. Photo by Tom Jefferson.
After our video played, political cartoonist and MC of the festival, Rob Rogers, quipped, “If we start giving health care to artists, what’s next, health care for cat ladies and terrorists?” The gravity of our agenda-driven shorts was delightfully punctuated by Rogers’ slideshow in which he took us on a journey through his cartoons and even showed off some new animations. Here’s a favorite:
Healthy Artists is a site that provides new avenues of exposure for amazing artists while shedding light on the social justice issue of the 21st century. Show us your work, tell us your story, and get featured! Here is one of our new videos:
Musician and painter, Dean Cercone, speaks out for universal health care.
The US is the world’s biggest spender on health care, yet 50 million Americans go uninsured. In this country, not even the insured can feel safe. Rescission is common practice, which means that after years of paying premiums, your insurance company can leave you in the dust when you need it most. Otto von Bismarck scored universal health care for Germany in the 19th century with Japan, France, Belgium, and Switzerland brightly following suit. Surely, we can do the same!
Health care is a human rights issue that affects everyone. However, there is a unique, underexposed crisis specific to the arts community. Whether we artists work freelance, live from grant to grant, or work part-time jobs to save some time for our art, we too often navigate the world uninsured or underinsured. Tides of anxiety rise and fall, as we go about daily life worrying if a chance bike accident will land us not only in the hospital, but in insurmountable debt. For lack of insurance, we avoid the basic checkups and screenings that stop little problems from becoming bigger ones. Not even artists who run their own businesses are safe. They have the option of purchasing one of two kinds of health care: exorbitant or inadequate. In every other industrialized nation, universal health care provides full medical coverage and a sense of security to millions of artists. American artists are uniquely disadvantaged in comparison to their international counterparts.
Printmaker and DJ, Mary Tremonte, speaks out for universal health care.
Use your signature style for social justice. Healthy Artists features videos in which amazing artists show us their work, tell us their stories, and give a fresh, new face to the universal health care cause. We can’t wait for you to join us!
Thumbing through the iPhoto archives I stumbled on evidence that I designed and modeled t-shirts in a former life:
From humble doodle origins to striking apparel.
A t-shirt for my dear friend Colin Baxter’s band Robin Vote and their 2011 “Invest in Loss” CD Release party. Robin Vote is the namesake of a character in Djuna Barnes’ novel Nightwood. I remember embarking on it late one night. This line from T.S. Elliot’s introduction must have struck a cord, for I scrawled it down to remember later: ”It seems to me that all of us, so far as we attach ourselves to created objects and surrender our wills to temporal ends, are eaten by the same worms.” Basically, if you score a shirt from Robin Vote , realize that you are further condemning yourself to the material world.
My family decided we should spend the holidays in an uncharted locale, elegant and quietly transcendent. Somehow, we got shipped to Orlando, Florida. Instead of getting cornrows and a tan, I thought of unsettling things. For example: A Beckett-style play called The Impossibility of Leaving the Room, in which a family of four insinuates they are on vacation. They debate at length whether they should go to the pool or theme park between traumatizing reminiscences. Paralyzed by distraction and indecision, they never actually leave the hotel room. Curtain.
In real life, we eventually emerge from the room and into the blinding light of Planet Hollywood. It is Christmas Eve and a wax statue of Arnold Schwarzenegger greets us at the door, pointing a blowtorch wrapped in LED lights square in our faces. We are ushered to a booth and handed menus revealing the cheapest entree is a $20 burger claiming association with Sylvester Stallone. Something about the texture of the meat, I assume. Imagine my surprise when I stumble upon Laura Palmer’s necklace amid the gun flick memorabilia.
Yes, I am part of a niche market that is accounted for in even the most tourist-ridden heart of Orlando. Hooray. Just to get off the map for a moment, I convince my parents to go to lunch at a little cafe called Stardust. They sell used books, rent cult classics on DVD and offer a sandwich called the Crispin Glover, which I don’t think has to do with the texture of the meat. Maybe something about the chicken being free range.
Ah, to feel at home even in Orlando. Can it be true? On the way back to the hotel, we stop by one of the several pawn shops in the shadowy outskirts of Disney World. We have to wait to get buzzed in. Always a good sign.
Inside there are shelves of orphaned VHS camcorders and glass cases chock-full of guns. Lots and lots of guns. It’s kind of like Planet Hollywood, only the guns are real and instead of Schwarzenegger holding one of them, it’s just some skinny guy in a wife-beater. He weighs a revolver in his palm and then tucks it into the waistband of his JNCO jeans. A look of sinister satisfaction overcomes his face. Perfect fit, he whispers.
Preferring fake fear to real fear, we skedaddle to Universal Studios Islands of Adventure. My brother overhears the Mummy ride is particularly nightmarish so it’s fitting we relinquish all worldly possessions in lockers before embarking the labyrinthine line. I am infinitely more daunted by the possibility that I have a previously undetected medical sensitivity to fog effects than I am of the over-dramatic corpse monster. Note the pre-gaming for terror.
I don’t remember a thing about the ride except that at some point my fight or flight response shot through the roof and endorphins were released, followed by a sense of familial bonding. We willingly simulated a near-death experience. High five. But before we could get too Hallmark about it, we were dumped onto a conveyor belt and herded to the gift shop. This was our final destination – a place where we felt compelled to buy things we didn’t need, forgetting about the ones we had left behind.
ASPIE SEEKS LOVE (a documentary)
Synopsis:
David Matthews can’t get a date. He is a writer and artist with a great sense of humor and impeccable dry delivery. He has scored solo art shows around Pittsburgh, readings at coffee shops and acting gigs in a few short films. He’s got a nice job, house and car, and could even treat a lady to dinner. So what’s the problem?
At 41 years of age, David was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome. This late-in-life diagnosis and lack of treatment in childhood has left David with a lot of catching up to do. Although David is highly intelligent, he has a major blind spot: empathy and understanding of the human, especially female, psyche.
Aspie Seeks Love follows David’s journey to understand his Asperger’s, improve as a person, writer, and artist, and find a meaningful relationship. We’ll watch David explore the world of online dating and we’ll also see his attempts to break out of his shell and connect with women in person. David’s quest for self-improvement will culminate in the Pittsburgh release party for his debut novel America’s Funniest Writer.
Work-in-progress teaser:
An earlier promo for the film:
Contact me to inquire about the film.
For too long, I shied away from activism because of insecurity. I didn’t feel politically savvy enough. I was scared to walk into an organization’s office without an encyclopedic knowledge of congressmen. This was never a requirement and will never be now that Wikipedia exists.
With a friend’s push, I joined PUSH (Pennsylvanians for Single Payer), and was welcomed into the arms of seasoned activists. Despite the discrepancy between my naiveté and their decades of experience (Molly Rush, for example, is a 76-year-old who once broke into a General Electric to hammer on a nuclear warhead), they treated me warmly as family and valuable in my own right. I started documenting the organization’s events and health care stories.
A retired nurse relates her story of struggling with the health industry. Video exhibited at Carnegie Museum’s 2 minute film festival in 2011 centered on themes of work and industry.
After six months with the organization I launched Healthy Artists, a web-based project tailored to demographics we had yet to tap: artists and young folk. Healthy Artists is an online art journal founded on the simple idea that artists can play an important role in making universal health care a reality in the United States. It is a platform in which artists can donate a portion of their time and craft to activism, while helping their art reach a greater audience. Healthy Artists showcases creative arguments for universal health care and provides a general audience with an educational resource for learning more about the issue from an intellectual, emotional, and artistic perspective.
Healthy Artists strives to bring visibility, youth and artistry to the fight for universal health care. Our Pittsburgh-based staff is growing. Expect great things in 2012.
Healthy Artists is made possible with the support of Health Care 4 All PA/Push and long-time activist Dr. Scott Tyson. Submit to us, join us or support us: www.healthyartists.org
Last week, I set out to cover City Councilman Bill Peduto’s 4th Annual Holiday Fete. The party brought together some of the most intelligent and progressive voices in Pittsburgh. Between black and gold martinis and grooving to the funk and soul band, I asked folks, “Why do you stand for universal health care?”
As my friend said something incredibly deep, I drew the words coming out of his mouth. Since I live in Pittsburgh, Warhol-style repetition is always appropriate.
Possible Captions:
A) Took the words out of my mouth.
B) Had to pry it out of him.
C) Eat me.
