Mixed Media by K Smith

this collage mixed media method is something i’ve been perfecting for over a year now.

it’s quilt work. with paper.

the crazy quilting style has a specific format. a focus point is 5 sided and the rest is built around it.

to finish a square, it is bound.

or framed. with paper.

the making of these is meditative. i really enjoy making them.

i’ve wanted to implement my photography into my collage work for some time.

I nailed this mixed media process with non-nude work pre-pandemic for a summer solo show i was preparing for. yup, an artist talk and a solo photography exhibit

that is now, very unfortunately, not happening.

the nude photographs that these are made with have been in my drawer for a long while. like years.

you know me best. there are stories within these photographs

just like the stitching is another form of narrative.

This nude piece was the first i made, in relationship to a full moon.

it reveals the reality of alone. separate corners/ spaces

and it reveals the desire, the deep desire for cherish.

this piece is different because it came from a prompt.

that prompt is where the narrative was found.

8.5×11

make sense??

I made these 4×6 collages next.

gotta love what the  back side looks like ( uh, the rainbow, not me.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

as my pattern seems to be.

i sometimes find i want to work larger.

i love the man and deer in this one. ( 8.5×11)

yes, the nude is upside down

these are the other 8.5 x 11’s, the last being the piece that is going to be in the virtual group show in Chicago opening june 5th

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

only one collate. this one, a nipple in a black square is not a crazy quilt style like the others. it’s an 8×8

 

all are for sale of course!

 

 

Opening

The opening is THIS FRIDAY

If you live in Chicago you should attend!

it’s a group show.

theme: steam punk

my work is the only photograph.

16×20

Framed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

plus

they used my photo for the publicity postcard!

will I be there in person?

No.

I am working on my next submission idea – the theme is scapes. right now landscapes that are a BLUR are what my gut tells me to consider.  I’ve pulled all blur work from 2019. I think I need to look back another year. i thought nudes, but my nude scapes are not strong/vibrant enough.

I’ve created a separate website for my alter ego to have a portfolio place.

Perhaps I will find ways to enter into more nude photography shows

 

 

 

You Are Invited.

for those of you in the midwest/chicago land area.

perhaps you’d care to attend an art  opening 

Jan 24th. 6-10 PM

The exhibit runs through March 1st otherwise.

and is also viewable online.

It would be rather wild if my photography piece sold to a fan!

I will unfortunately not be in attendance for the opening. cost of a plane ticket is rather prohibitive. add that i am sick. it’s best i observe from afar. 

NOTE : this is K Smith work, not AN work. I know to you that the two are the same. I am trying to assert myself as K Smith in the realm of nude art outside of the work here this last decade….

The Nap

the sky was bleak when i awoke and it remained dim into the afternoon.

lifeless and bored.

not an invitation into the day.

instead, a day of retreat.

the sort of day lap blankets were made for.

in the afternoon i slipped under the covers nude and settled into an immediate nap

the kind that has one lose a few hours

the kind that has one awake drooling

wondering what day it is.

the kind of nap you wish you could put on instant replay.

the cat nestled soundly in the crook of my knees, her motor of a purr idling

she knows better to settle on my feet.

i was reading a really good book

but for all of me, i could not keep my eyes open.

can’t even recall the last i took an afternoon nap.

i will eat potstickers tonight.

the kind in a bag. frozen, that one can boil or fry

i boil and sit them in a pool of sesame oil, and tamari, perhaps some red chili paste

i will regret not having sesame seeds,

but a bit of shredded carrot and green onion will help.

the fridge is almost empty. again.

the pork in these pot stickers is meager but spiced well. they are the good kind that i pay a little bit more for.

at least i won’t have too many dishes to do.

i am out of foodness that entertains me

albeit there is a new jar of peanut butter.

and an apple left.

i was thinking more of the happy hour amusement

the thing i don’t need, but enjoy and try and enjoy especially during a holiday

i try and remind myself that perhaps its festive. perhaps i am having fun now.

did you have fun?

the cheap frosted cookies with sprinkles on top will offer the same sort of amusement at christmas.

i put two on a little fancy glass plate.

but i will always eat two more.

because i can.

because growing up we were only allowed two cookies and i always always wanted more.

i keep telling myself to make a trip to the place where I can purchase thin lemon wafers to have with an afternoon tea, but i know better to begin a habit like that.

i hate going to that store for just a single item. add that the parking lot is unbearable. claustrophobic, and moody. like the worst parking lot ever.

i go when someone treats me. when i can buy more of said items than one, making the trip somehow more bearable.

perhaps i could marinate some cucumber and onion for a little salad with my potstickers.

unless this new customer buys from me tomorrow i will have to let go of my status for work. i am beginning to wonder if holding onto the status makes for a stress on my life that I can shift.

it will make december a tough cash month. in theory my fat november secured all that i needed in a obligatory holiday way. at least to me.

i am already done sending gifts of love off this past monday, and greetings of a sort to others this past friday.

it’s the little extra that I won’t have.

for the happy hours and cookies on a plate.

if i stay where i am living now until i die

i am not sure who will be the person who finds me.

its very quiet here. no bustle, no noise of another’s TV, no chatter even in the hall, and i love this part of where i live deeply. if those noises were around me, i’d be in a mood that would make noone want to be around me. i hate noise.i thrive on the quiet.

i wish to die in my sleep much like the nap i had today

where i can’t keep my eyes open a moment longer and where the cozy of the covers

gifts an indescribable joy.

i won’t know who finds me, will I.

i won’t care either.

wonder why i care so much about it now.

 

Autumn 2014

halloween.

in my fantasies

halloween includes heaving breasts, no panties, sneaky kisses  and getting some.

that’s what costuming is for.

otherwise its some popular forced march that i never belonged to.

i’ve had good ideas for the party i have to go to

and feel once i am there like the douche bag/wall flower that i really am.

have i described myself that way before??

i can be brassy and bold

for a sec.

and then stupid peer whatever knocks me flat.

if i never participate in the parade known as halloween that’s OK.

FIVE years ago. i was getting laid. a LOT

i felt desired.

on the side. here, at flickr. there was other deliciousness happening

i was getting the attention i deserve.

perhaps that’s the difference to today.

the attention vessel is so very very empty.

on flickr a comment called me “a rider”

excuse me?

REad my “about”.

it’s not all about the pictures asshole.

or perhaps it is.

these pictures were taken in the house i lost

i hate the farmers tan.

not a fan of the belly.

but i remember feeling great arousal.

i remember thinking someone would like these

i remember photographing myself here.

probably the same pants i had on last post.

i miss the wet

the want

the attention.

in the same week, a very hot image of mr cowboy and I.

i was on the counter. legs spread, there was rum

and levi’s.

damn

strange day today.

something pretty wild happen

unexpected.

it may not all pan out

but the tone of the day altered because of it.

 

 

Triggers

if you say the word trigger

it’s an alert.

it says you have survived something

and usually those somethings are not good.

its a word that is used way too often now.

unfortunately

i loathe mainstream terms

sure i survived.

a LOT

but when there is  hashtag and a campaign around it

when survivors are now a tribe

no.

The words do however set the tone.

and the word trigger

i find very useful

i didn’t mean to run into these images but here they fucking are.

the triggers in this trio are there.

allow me to share.

first image. i remember this day. i had put this dress on backwards and didn’t notice. so like me.  this shot – headless me? was a bit like where had I gone. the “i” part. I love the missing head, the front of the dress on the back of me and the feet in the other direction — this is a great odd shot. I was losing my home here. my lovely little circa 1926 bungalow. my lovely 27 windows of 4 way light. my first space of my very very own. the owning of which happened without a plan in 4 days. my income once here began to spiral. the beginnings of repressed memories and trauma began here. and, so did my alter ego that all of you know so so well. ( or think you know anyway ) I have been writing for cathartic reasons lately and am glad of it. thank you for reading. and for noticing. i am ok. just alone as usual.  but thank you for wondering. so the trigger in this image was the toaster oven. go figure. when i moved in with mr cowboy. he pitched my toaster oven. big big demonstrative ceremony to the dumpster. this has got to go. in the scheme of things NOW I actually have no need for one. but then — a toaster oven was a fixture of home. and he dismantled home emotionally for me. at so so many levels. he messed with it. he messed with me.

second image.  in my creative mind and heart. images like these are an expression and story i want to tell. coupling. my belief in two. visually the moment captured here = lust and desire. it shares an i feel pretty and it pauses a something between two that is a feeling. not a selfie, not contrived, not predicted. it’s real. i can feel the tenderness of these two lips touching. it was like that between us. chemistry at it’s best. lips kissing to wet between them lovely. yum.  the day after this was taken. this man dumped me via text. who the fuck does that. i was stunned.  i gave it or his so called dump some time, because it was JUST weird. He crawled back with an automatic sorry and a handful of pesticide ridden yellow roses. I allowed that. this is where i should say to myself wtf  — because i asked for more of him.  we all have part in our messes. the trigger in this one — stops me in my emotional tracks. the very very memory of such tenderness makes my stomach turn inside out. how is this even missing from my LIFE. we all deserve kisses. lots and lots of them.

The last image was taken for someone who at the time was paying attention to me virtually. he. like most. fleeted. but at the time this was taken for him. the banter was very lovely. I enjoyed taking this image and would do so for  special certain reasons and circumstances. This image reminds me triggers all of my humble beginnings – 10 years ago — my alter ego, my courage to be nude and my looking at myself. inside and out. I keep trying to say… that person is no longer here. I keep speculating about trauma, and age because the other side of it all is there and real. when i look at this image i don’t see the same flesh. and age has altered the demographic

At some level I have stopped looking. or have lost the desire or the feeling of i am…worth looking at i guess. and this isn’t to self deprecate. this is to say who really cares. because who does ?? because really.  if am deserving and worthy. then that should be standing by my side.

My cat was sick last week. for about 4 days she wouldn’t leave me. her curled form upon my chest had me feel a tenderness again that had me weep. she’s a fucking cat. and some of you are not cat people so, i get that but  …the emotional value of a pet is sortof there. and she, and I are together more than anything else. the thing is. i, as you know, tell stories with my photography. i offer a narrative. and doing so in social media has had a volume of folks fall in love with her. It’s pretty neat. In the spirit of that — two strangers and one friend have gifted funds for a now empty vet envelope. not small change either. generous gifting.  That said, I am fully prepared for a next circumstance for her in a way I would have not been able to manage on my own. THIS is pretty great.

I should write more about the gifting economy sometime. and money, and triggers.

another time. 

What Attraction Felt Like

you may like me

in a desire me sort of way

i won’t ever physically feel that

not in a knowing way

not in a way that things can be with

something real.

something

touchable or

tangible.

I could adorn a certain dress

or have freshly washed hair

or reveal the nape of my neck

those simple details can get the attention i yearn for

those days are so very very long gone.

sometimes

i might think i look ok

and feel attractive and pretty

i imagine adoring eyes.

the leaning in to kiss me

or my favorite

when you pull me to you

in lust.

i want it too

you can tell.

the air between us

takes a breath.

a touch can give me goosebumps

a touch can make me blush

a touch can have me arch my back

bring me to a purr

a touch can take me elsewhere in my body and in my mind.

someones touch  readies me for more

i am responsive that way

i am not one to say no

because i enjoy touch

i enjoy it so so very much.

it was the men in my life who said no

never i

i had desire

all the time.

when the want was mutual

the touching felt amplified

louder

hungry

i remember a very hot summer afternoon

i was wearing a simple cotton nightie

it had bits of lace at the edges of its square neckline

the cotton was thin

slightly sheer

i stood in the threshold of the back door near him

i had just taken a bath

A huge breeze found us.

he had been ignoring me for weeks now

and i remember thinking with every part of me

i want him to want me

i want his desire

i remember the sun on my face

late afternoon warm.

the wind was so unexpected

we just stood there as it swept over the two of us.

my nipples got hard

i gasped.

he was not detail minded sexually

but for some reason in that moment

a kiss on my neck found me.

i looked at him

clearly hungry for him

he responded.

when someone says yes

vs no.

attraction is one of the best feelings.