The difference between a blog and Facebook?
On a blog, no one talks to you. Ask a question? Good luck. On Facebook everyone is so busy yabbering that your questions are drowned out by all the other chatter. But more often than not, people respond. Silly stuff sometimes. But at least you’re heard.
It’s kind of like speaking on stage compared to blathering in the local pub. And with Facebook you don’t really need a prepared speech. Anything seems to fly.
Get AWAY from me with that stupid camera – go embarrass some of your human friends!
“I just pulled a burr out of my cat’s nose”
”Ewwww, I’ve done that.”
”Yes, he’ll hate you for a minute but you MUST do it.”
This is probably why I’ve spent so much more time on Facebook than on this blog in the last year.
This summer I dropped a bunch of pictures and drive-by spoutings onto my FB wall and almost nothing onto this blog. Now I’m back here feeling the same daunting silence. And the guilt of having neglected the thing.
Bullseye, Dan and I have been pretty busy this year – especially this summer. Here’s a few of the highlights regurgitated from that Facey Place:
After de-installing our stand at COLLECT, I dashed up to Scotland where Bullseye Gallery’s former head preparator Jeff met me to install some more art in The World’s Most Obscure Museum of Kilnformed Glass (aka Latheron House aka our home in the Highlands)
Barely moments after Mel’s North Lands residency ended, another group arrived. Led by Steve Klein and Richard Parrish, the IN PLACE residency was likely the most charged and productive gathering of artists I’ve had the pleasure of watching in the North Lands’ studios. But I actually did blog about that (little and late), so consider this just one more picture to add another 1000 words:
IN PLACE resident Alex explains the concept and design issues behind the samples for her St Mary’s church proposal.
From the Highlands to the High Desert:
The action-packed middle of Bullseye’s summer played out in Santa Fe, New Mexico where we opened our first factory-owned resource center outside of Portland.
Meeting the exceptional community of Santa Fe artists and introducing them to the materials and methods of Bullseye glass has been a remarkable experience for us.
Those artists were out in force – along with collectors and glass lovers from as far away as Japan – at the two fairs where we exhibited in July.
Just prior to, during, and after all this we installed a selection of remarkable works in kiln-glass from around the world at our new residence/private viewing space just north of Santa Fe.
Bullseye Gallery preparator Ryan and registrar Michael installing a Kaneko slab at Casa de Asterion.
Back Across the Pond Again:
The Biennale had some exceptionally good work in it (I fell in love with Tracy Nicholls‘ textile-like creations). The preview reception was utterly packed, a hall of anyone-and-everyone in British – and occasionally American – glass, hugging, chatting, carousing, awestruck, sometimes insightful, more often glib, going on about everything and nothing in the most wonderful ways.
A bit like Facebook. Except I didn’t hear a thing about burrs or cats’ noses.