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June 07, 2007
printmaking class and other imprinted matters
Wednesday I was modeling my new respirator before my first etching class which was, in fact, not my first-ever etching class, but my first in quite some time.
Like knitting, etching involves needles, is obsessive, somewhat repetitive, time-consuming, can be very simple or very complicated, and the results can be spectacularly gorgeous or entirely disappointing. In general, the end products are probably not as functional, although you can get a nice warm feeling of satisfaction- hence, the cliche about showing one's etchings. So you even can share the warmth. And too, who doesn't find a woman in an ink-smudged apron sexy? That's what I'm saying.
Anyway, its always prudent to have proper safety precautions in place, particularly when you are handling noxious, caustic, and/or powdery substances. (and in fact, one doesn't use the respirator so much, I just like to wear it around for effect. I'm thinking of riding in Critical Mass with it. Ok, not really. Well, maybe.) Which, you have to love the danger aspect of it. Kinda makes me feel a little macho, even when I am drawing happy little animals, which is my master plan- more about that later! There's also metal and heavy machinery involved, and, in some cases, a back-story involving a somewhat freakishly devoted cult of printmakers held in the thrall of a brilliant and charismatic leader. Believe it!
(Also useful for knitting purposes- I'm quite sure it filters mohairs.)
Class was like coming back home, in a couple of ways. First because I saw some longtime friends and fellow devotees, and engaged in the familiar rituals of etching,-while chatting about politics, movies, cicadas, not necessarily in that order- beginning with preparing plates to be drawn/etched upon.
Then there was the other kind of weird fact that the place where the class meets happens to be in the suburb where I grew up. Whenever I go there it is simultaneously familiar and freakish, because everything looks the same, but not. In fact, the house where I grew up is gone, having been torn down and replaced, but everything around it looks similar. Then I have this weird kind of phantom-limb sensation, where I imagine I should be turning a certain way, heading to the my old house along a route that's completely imprinted, (as it were) which still exists, but goes to some other place that I have no connection to. But I feel myself turning up the driveway and going in through the back door, and then I have to remind myself that none of that exists, nor has it existed for a very long time. Plus I don't really feel that way about anyplace else I've lived. Its funny how things get imprinted on you when you are little, and time shifts these things that you once thought were immovable. Its weird how it remains indelibly tattooed somewhere on your reptilian brain.
Here's the other thing I saw in suburbia that I hadn't seen since childhood- cicadas!!! Whoa. There don't seem to be any in the city, which actually I'm kind of glad about because they're fascinating but man, they're gross.
P.s. Rob is back from China! Go read about his trip and be sure and check out his Caroline's Rock photo series on flickr.
Posted by pippypippy at June 7, 2007 08:56 PM
Comments
Thanks for the shout out. Everywhere you go in Beijing you see people wearing surgical-type masks to deal with the pollution. So I do think you should wear the filter mask to critical mass. Just tell everyone it's to protest the damn smog!
Posted by: rob loftis at June 8, 2007 03:32 PM
Hey, that looks very stylish. But don't wear it whilst biking, it'll strain your heart. Maybe you could wear it like a hat. Plus rubber gloves and apron. Maybe lots of Critical Massists will be inspired to copy you. Yes.
Posted by: Audrey Niffenegger at June 8, 2007 04:35 PM