Breakdowns and Breakthroughs

There is so much to update regarding my final art project. For those of you who have never gone to art school, this should be an interesting glimpse into the mind and methods of an artist. To my friends in art school, all I can say is I miss having you around late at night in the studios to bounce around ideas (though I don’t really work at night anymore because the lighting is too poor, i.e one fluorescent bulb).

When we last left off, I was doing a quasi-venn-diagram piece on travel narratives and collective memories, as depicted through patterns. I had collected stories from everyone and begun creating their corresponding designs.


For example, Monica had spoken about walking through Djenne at night, with the famous mosque illuminated by the moon and stars above it. She described looking out over the city, an island with narrow roads and twisting alleys, and thinking about how she would like to name her first daughter Djenne.

I spoke with Abdoulaye Konate, showing him my now overflowing notebook of collected textiles and sketches, and got a very positive response. The idea of other people’s perspectives on similar experiences was solid, but we needed to figure out the best form and material. The circles, in his mind, were somewhat inconsistent with the concept of story-telling, at least the ones cut off by the edge of the paper. If each circle represented a story, why would you leave half a circle; one never gives half a story, n’est-ce pas?. Well, I think that’s what he said, since the entire conversation was in French. I promised to reflect on this issue and return the following week with the final form.

At first, I mused about the possibility of working in 3-D, since it’s a little less mind-numbing and keeps both my hands occupied. While I was planning this, I was also writing an article on traditional Malian textiles and found my form in these wool arkilla blankets used by nomads in the desert. They were made up of narrow strips called “lés” and to me, could be used to depict each story. Nine strips, nine stories read horizontally with various vertical bands that would act as interruptions to the story telling. I would still do it on paper, with ink and watercolor, hand drawing each pattern (36 total. I think). Is this starting to sound a bit compulsive? Maybe you can see where this is all going…

I started to struggle when choosing colors. I did not want the piece to be total chaos with 36 patterns and 36 color schemes and so I toyed with the idea of using just cool colors (for me, memory seems bluish, like fog in our mind). In the end, I just settled on using red, blue, yellow, black, and white, traditional colors of these arkilla blankets.




Before I saw M. Konate again, I wanted to do a little test run-try some patterns next to each other in real size and color.


It took two days.

I was sick.

And it felt awful because I realized that in order to pull off this project, I would have to remain inside drawing day and night for the last three weeks and that was not how I wanted spend my time. Already I was feeling guilty, having to decline afternoon tea or playing with Ton Ton and Cheik. Honestly, last week was my most off week of the semester and by Wednesday, after spending two days sick in bed and drawing, I knew I had to change something or else go crazy. The designs were just too meticulous and, despite my training here in Mali, I just don’t have that patience to do that much detail work on something 3ft by 5ft.

Sometimes, it’s so good to just put down your work, step away for a day, and start afresh.





What has emerged since then has been somewhat of a breakthrough and a sense of relief. The idea is still the same, to show how memories can mix and transition into each other, to use patterns as visual cues. But I’m taking a much more creative license to these narratives, even to the patterns themselves (the pattern can evolve and change). It still requires a great amount of detail drawing, but there’s enough diversity to keep my mind active and enjoying the process. I now look back at the prospect of drawing the same design over and over again for 5 feet and shudder. That said, there is so much to be learned from taking the time to do pattern by hand. It’s not as perfect or efficient as doing it on computer, but there is a wonderful human quality to the little mistakes we make. I’m finding myself getting mesmerized by this drawing. Already it’s feeling opulent and richly charged and I am so happy to be working on this piece. We’ve had some wonderful work sessions this past weekend, chilling in the house with music played off of someone’s laptop, hunching over the paper, drawing on the ground as always because we have no desks.

So that’s kinda where I am today. Abdoulaye Konate has seen the beginning stages and other than “be careful of smearing and stray marks,” he likes the direction that it is going in. It’s quite a strange “apprenticeship” but I’m glad to have had enough free time and independent study to have such personal discoveries. Everything, from my paper to this project to my life in general, has really started falling in to place nicely. Maybe this will make more sense once you read the article (to be posted later this week).

On a somewhat related note, I curious to see how I’ve changed when I return home. We all have benefited from the time for personal reflection as well as being in a foreign environment that can’t help put show what makes you…well, you.

I’m getting too deep here and my stomach’s grumbling so I’m going to wrap this up. I’m wishing you all the very best and cannot wait to catch up in another three weeks! Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

PS. The boys have joined in my drawing sessions.