July 30 - Last day of 30

I woke up today, hot and sweaty and restless from a turbulent night of nightmare-filled sleep and anxiety.  I'm thinking too much about the exhibition next week and my proposed pieces for the show.  I met with Candida and Marlene for breakfast, got my pieces together and headed to the print show to have my photos printed.  The lady at the shop spoke a little english, but she seemed very annoyed with us in general.  No matter, she printed my 12 images and they looked great (expect for one scratched one, which she reprinted right away).  I got the work home and thought, fuck, half of these look like garbage.  Not exhibition pieces at all.  Total CRAP.  

So, I've narrowed down my project from 9 images to 6.  I'm doing a triptych - 2 sets of three images each.  The first set is of non-human hands - close ups from sculpture, shot in such a way that the sculpture itself remains unknown and each represent different aspects of Hungarian history and culture:  tyranny, understanding and hope.  The second set brings in the human element, where hands and fingers connect or try to connect with the world around them, representing portals/doorways, knowledge and identity.  I'm not sure what kind of price tag to put on these, but since we are exhibiting at a very fine gallery here in Budapest, I don't think it would be unheard of to ask $1000 for each set.  I'd be happy with $50. Shit, I'd actually be happy with $5.  

When I got back from the print shop, however, I was still riddled with nerves and fortunately, my roommate Hannah offered to trip the images so they would fit in the frames.  My hands were so sweaty and shaky that I didn't dare even touch the prints.  I paced, I hovered, I probably drove her a bit crazy, but she was so calm and it helped me calm down.  I'm such a wreck when it comes to exhibiting shit.  I don't have a fine arts background and haven't matted a photo in 10 years.  I don't know the first thing about exhibitions except handing someone a fucking dvd or minidv tape.  And since I nixed the idea of editing a film here awhile back, well...I had to delve into other forms of exhibition that I'm not accustomed to.  But, isn't that what Residencies are about?

Later, I ate a terrible lunch with leathery beef and too many dumplings.  This was the first lunch of the Residency where the food was not very good.  Everyday we get traditional Hungarian dishes served to us at the hotel cafe - it's free and part of the Residency.  We never miss a free lunch!  But today...of all days, when I needed something delicious to take my mind of my stress, today is the day I get served a shoe for lunch.  

Then I took a nap and awoke drenched in sweat.  It's so hot and muggy here, and of course, unlike in hot-ass Virginia or steamy Detroit, there's no AC to cool you off.  And no fans in our hotel bedrooms.  

After that, I went to an art opening with the girls and it was bad.  Real bad.  The best part about it is that it made me feel like my work is pretty good after all!  

So, today is the last day of 30.  Tomorrow I'll be 31 on the 31st.  My lucky birthday!  I'm taking the day off  for some seriously needed rest and relaxation.  I'll go to the Szechenyi baths, get a pedicure and head out with everyone to the 25 or so gallery openings happening near Parliament.  Then out to dinner.  It will be great!  A new beginning!  

Friday, I'll get back to work on my film research.  I need to shoot more of the 1956 memorial sites, prominent locations and areas of activity.  I might even get a chance to take on of the day trips I planned out of Budapest to places where my mom was born, where she grew up, where her dad was born, etc...But tomorrow, tomorrow I relax! 

I might even get a tattoo of the Hungarian flag...let's see how adventurous I'm feeling!  

Buda + Danube = Perfect

Today, Holly, Hannah, Patricia and I walked our way to the Vivivaroszi gallery on the Buda side of the Danube.   We left around noon and walked Andrassy until we hit St. Stephen's Basilica, where we simply had to go inside and enjoy its majestic splendor.  The Basilica is named for St. Stephen, the first king of Hungary (975-1038), and his mummified fist is housed in the reliquary.  I tried to get some shots of it, but with no flash, in a dark room, all you can really see is the case where the freaky mummy hand is.  You can actually see the knuckles if you look close. 

We crossed the Chain Bridge into Buda and walked towards the gallery, stopping frequently to ooooh and aaaaah at the gorgeous hills, castles, statues and architecture we passed along the way.  The bridge itself is AMAZING.  It's probably one of the most famous structures in the city.  From the bridge, you can see both sides of Budapest, from Parliament to the hills.  The river is wide and there's lots of tour boats and sailboats.   The whole thing felt totally surreal and romantic - I'm inspired and feel like I know my way around Budapest pretty well now.  

We finally made it to the gallery, where our work will show in 2009.  The show that's up is all work from past A.I.R. residents, including my great friend, Belinda Haikes!

(who I miss like crazy!)

After the gallery, we went to Cafe Gusto and ate very delicious sandwiches.  I had the best cappucino I've had here so far (the coffee at breakfast is always terrible...in fact, I'm convinced it's made with mud).  Then Hannah and Patricia went to the bath house, and Holly and I ventured off on our own, taking our time on the walk back to cross the Margit bridge and spend a little time on Margit Island, a little island in the river --- not unlike Belle Isle in Detroit and Belle Isle in Richmond!  

I came to some revelations today.  More about the video project and about what I might do for my gallery piece for the residency.  I was going to cut a short together but I think now I'll aim more towards photo.  I'm going to look for an old, ornate frame at the flea market.  Something that conjures up the baroque and detailed architecture of the city, but use a modern image to juxtapose the energy of Budapest.  A city so full of lovely and incredible design, everywhere you look, but caught in a crossroads of modern expansion and capitalist development.  I can't stop thinking about the ballet school housed on the second floor of the building riddled with bullet holes and war wounds.  To me, that surmises Budapest.  Beauty, elegance and grace surrounded by scars and pain.  As the body pushes itself, the body of the dancers, they are still encapsulated in this war-torn shell, this shameful and horrible fate.  Somewhere inbetween beauty and grotesque, this city pulses and physically, emotionally and spiritually thrives.   

So, that might be my piece.  It might not...

Tomorrow, I'm going back to the cemetery to *hopefully* track down where my grandmother's grave might have been moved to...

Patricia said she'd come with me.  And just having one person by my side will make all the difference in the world.  

I'm also going to go the US Embassy and see if I can get dual citizenship.  Come November, if Obama doesn't win, I know where I'd like to defect to.  

And last night...oh yeah!  Last night!  I met an American man who's lived here 11 years.  His son had just been born the day before and he was celebrating.  His wife is Hungarian, so they live here.  He said it took him about 2 years to really learn and be comfortable with the language.  He then told me he works in film/audio and worked on the audio for Hellboy 2.  I have yet to confirm this, but he did tell me he'd be my best friend if I moved here.  Cool. 

And, I just met two fun Germans!  Sebastian and Mario (huh, that name's not German!)  Couple of youngin's!  Adorable!  They're from Dusseldorf...and of course, I think of Dana and my lost trip to Germany.  Oh well.  When I live in Budapest, next year perhaps, it's only an hour or so flight away.   

Presentation Day

Part of the residency requires that we present on who we are as artist's, our past works, experience, aesthetic, concepts, practice and examples.  Candida went first.  I loved her work.  Thoughtful, intellectual and brilliant.  And she's only 25.  All the presenters in the residency (all women), Marlene, Hannah, Lana, Holly, Patricia, Candida, showed command of their medium and many others - whether painting, drawing, photography, video, installation, ceramics or mixed media.  And then I go second to last and I feel like total poop.

Couple reasons.  One I won't mention, but the other being that here I am, 30 years old (almost 31!) a PhD student and I feel I have no aesthetic at all.  I have concept.  I have ideas.  Some funny, some serious, some artsy, but nothing concrete that really DEFINES ME.  My concept is this:  shoot or produce with any materials at hand, by any means necessary.  So, my work is as frenetic and un-definable as my influences.  I love Werner Herzog, Alfred Hitchcock and Stan Brakhage.  In film alone, this straddles so many genres and approaches.  I love Saturday Night Live, Days of Our Lives and Battlestar Galactica.  Okay.  Does this mean I'm versatile or good at nothing?

I know I'm a great teacher/professor, whether in film theory 101 or teaching students how to shoot and edit.  I think of it as "painting with light" like Joel taught me.  

Today, I gave a PowerPoint about "who I am."  I briefly went over my degrees, work experience, and philosophy (i.e - shoot whatever, whenever with whatever).  I showed Lee Plaza Volunteer, the opening Re-Cap montage of As the Lights Dim Episode 4 and one of my newest pieces, the collaborative film Intentional Fallacy.  Very good responses...but still, I felt so pedestrian...

Maybe I'm just being sensitive (see unmentionable cause #1) and highly skeptical of myself, but I did present with confidence and security.  I'm proud of my work.  I won't apologize because it doesn't fit into a nice little bundle or a simple category.  I transcend genre, dammit!  

But I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.  Literally.  My camera bag, tripod and backpack are fucking heavy.  After going to Kerepesi yesterday to shoot, I've been having horrendous muscle spasms in my shoulders from the bulk of my equipment load.  My feet hurt. My body aches all over.  All I want to do is drink to take away the pain.  Beyond the physical pain is the emotional and psychological weight of my project.  Suppose I don't fulfill my expectations of this residency?  Suppose I never find my grandmother's grave?  Suppose I fail at telling the story of my family with compassion, honesty and above all else, a sense of story? 

I am only one person.  In a foreign land (though it is my home land).  I will do the best I can under the circumstances.  I expect no pity...I simply want understanding.  As these days of the residency move on, I need to find some peace within myself and allow some room for failure.  And to consider failure as something else perhaps...as experience, discovery and wonder.