The threatened species in its natural habitat.
Coming up with new ideas is typically the easy part for creatives; deciding which of those ideas are just distractions is quite another thing.
Self-editing is an important part of the creative process. For me, the lightbulb goes on (Eureka!) and often dims as I re-think the logistics — or start calculating costs of materials. Ideas surge and retreat in almost regular rhythm. But Sick Puppy won't stop dogging me.
I know the idea of crocheting a giant version of an old novelty craft is a major distraction from my work. I know that "because it's funny" is not a good defence. I've tried to reject Sick Puppy but it's exactly the fun/silly/slightly repressive sensibility contained in this once-common bathroom item that attracts me. When it comes right down to it, Sick Puppy is a sweet anti-art-authoritarian notion.
Despite the challenge of trying to come up with a suitable fibre to fabricate the beast, or figuring out what would stand in for the toilet roll and how the beast could possibly be stored or shipped, the idea of a six-foot-tall pompom poodle doll with googly eyes perseveres.
Self-editing is an important part of the creative process. For me, the lightbulb goes on (Eureka!) and often dims as I re-think the logistics — or start calculating costs of materials. Ideas surge and retreat in almost regular rhythm. But Sick Puppy won't stop dogging me.
I know the idea of crocheting a giant version of an old novelty craft is a major distraction from my work. I know that "because it's funny" is not a good defence. I've tried to reject Sick Puppy but it's exactly the fun/silly/slightly repressive sensibility contained in this once-common bathroom item that attracts me. When it comes right down to it, Sick Puppy is a sweet anti-art-authoritarian notion.
Despite the challenge of trying to come up with a suitable fibre to fabricate the beast, or figuring out what would stand in for the toilet roll and how the beast could possibly be stored or shipped, the idea of a six-foot-tall pompom poodle doll with googly eyes perseveres.
My Sick Puppy — still an abstraction — obviously refers to Jeff Koons' giant Puppy, but I relate it more to an untitled artwork I saw at The Musée d'art contemporain de Montréal a couple of years back, in what appeared to be two elephants made out of socks and whatever else was lying around the artist's basement. Cast in bronze. Fighting. I instantly fell in love with Winnipeg artist Jon Pylypchuk's childlike depiction of aggression, exalted through the appropriation of the bronze tradition. It's this potent mix of Art Brut and authoritative monumentalism that provides the thrill at first sight.
That crash of sensibilities is not so different from Sick Puppy's potential. It might exude a strong attraction-repulsion effect. It might call into question kitsch and craft versus art and high concept, the masculine and the feminine (Sick Puppy is clearly a bitch).
That crash of sensibilities is not so different from Sick Puppy's potential. It might exude a strong attraction-repulsion effect. It might call into question kitsch and craft versus art and high concept, the masculine and the feminine (Sick Puppy is clearly a bitch).
Or maybe I'm just the sick puppy here and should bury the beast once and for all.
Pylypchuk's 'elephant fight' (at right). See how he develops his ideas, without fear:
Pylypchuk's 'elephant fight' (at right). See how he develops his ideas, without fear:
