You thought it would never end, but it’s gonna. Sort of. Like most goodbyes in my life, it won’t signal an end; just a transformation of something. I hate goodbyes! It’s gonna end/begin, this here blog, and what I mean by that is: careful readers will note that there are still at least three people/places who have promised their goods (recipes/insights/answers to my questions). So in the meantime, I will do a week practicing what this blog will become, which is a collaboratively edited meditation on Studiola’s of the mind.
Just as a french toast sandwich is not just any sandwich, this blog is not just any blog–it’s a question mark, a tongue/tail, a place to beginagain.
For the last of the 8 weeks of Nola Studiola, I’ve asked some blog readers to answer interview questions, in the spirit of using this blog and the discussions around creative processes to prompt evermore generative energy for whomever encounters our digital space.
This is in the hope that this project nudges the air around you, the casual reader, and prompts you to respond to your particular needs for a Studiola-of-the-Mind. Constant creating demands, for me, constant regeneration with folks who are willing to join in the questioning and the shelter-building of homes for art and its creation.
My physical sojourn at the Nola Studiola is coming to an end. I will no longer post dispatches from the the Nola Studiola in its physicality. This is is the perfect time, in my opinion, to turn a handful of Studiola questions on a handful of fellow artists who are negotiating their own Studiola-ness.
Among this week’s participants will be actress Bette Cassatt of Washington, D.C., poet/foodie/educator My Nguyen of Baton Rouge, visual artist/violinist/educator Mari Carlson of Minneapolis, educator/activist/believer/aspiring grown-up k.t. of New York City, painter/poet/educator Kristin Sanders of New Orleans, and actor Tony K Nam of Washington, D.C.
I have known all of these people five or more years, crossing paths now and again, never daily but always circling back periodically, which is long enough to catch glimpses of their aspirations and passion and intent and be dazzled at the different ways they approach joy and art. Bette directed me in a backyard production of Beaches in the fifth (sixth?) grade; Tony taught me how to use theater to survive high school; Mari showed me aesthetic independence starting in the 4th grade; k.t. brought wit and compassion to my college years; My is my go-to for all things adventurously culinarily expressive, and Kristin reminds me how to be a girl again. These are some of the most independently-minded people I know; these are people who have consistently shown me that when it comes to life choices in the pursuit of art, they really don’t give a damn what other people think.
Ciao; and, Ciao!