Put a bid on it
Auctioneers astonish and confuse me, but I stand in awe of the bidders. How can they tell what the auctioneer’s even saying? Did I just buy a bridge in Brooklyn or something? Can’t I just bid and pay?
Why, yes, yes you can,… at the Artist Trust online auction. Last time I checked the site, two people were bidding on the collage I donated for this fundraiser. In an ordinary year, the auction is Artist Trust’s main source of funding for grants and other resources artists need. Once the pandemic struck, though, Artist Trust redirected their funds into emergency cash grants for artists. You remember how dire the need was last year, don’t you? Those grants were a lifesaver for some Washington state artists.
Supporters bid on artworks at the 2019 Artist Trust auction gala. Photo credit: Andre Ruth
Usually, a live auction follows a silent auction/ cocktail party. But because of pandemic gathering restrictions, the event’s become a month-long silent auction you can attend in your pajamas. If you’re in a position to do so, please find something you like and bid on it now — and keep checking your bid. Remember, no auctioneer this year to tell you if the artwork is yours… and my collage is only going to get more expensive from here on out.
Good/ Mourning, Thanksgiving
I still want to torch 2020 on a big ol’ bonfire, but I’m a little shocked to realize The Worst has not happened (yet). I know many people are in mourning for various reasons, which has me conflicted about the few bright spots.
“Janus: Value” in the collector’s home. Photo courtesy Korey McLeod.
On the one hand, I’m thrilled that “Janus: Value” now lives in Washington, DC, at the home of Korey McLeod. Actually, that collage wasn’t even in my solo show at Morton Fine Art. But after visiting the gallery, Korey found it on my website and asked if it was available. I’m deeply grateful for the support, especially during the pandemic.
Credit: All My Relations podcast/ Instagram
Speaking of COVID-19, the virus has claimed more Indigenous (and Black) lives than in any other group. So family gatherings with people outside your household are not a good idea; neither are public events critical of Thanksgiving. This year Un-Thanksgiving at the University of Oregon, the annual Sunrise Gathering at Alcatraz Island and the National Day of Mourning all went online.
Credit: Gregg Deal/ Amplifier.org
Understatement of the year: What a bittersweet holiday. For those who can access it, a Zoom gathering might help to ease the separation. But I think old-school phone calls, to share the good and the bad, might be better for me in this exhausting year.
New work: What's another word for 'waiting?'
Hi, kids! Today, “When” is our Word Of The Day. When will we get a handle on the coronavirus infection rate? When will my kids be able to go back to school? It’s like being suspended.
Nobody’s done anything wrong, but the kids are essentially banished from school.
You could even say remote learning is supposed to cushion us from spikes in the COVID-19 infection rates, like a suspension system reduces the impact of outside shocks.
Now that we’ve settled into a “class time” routine, my kids are doing okay and I’ve carved out enough studio time for a new collage. At first, “Suspension” was going to show the teacher, students and the schoolhouse right-side-up.
Lisa Myers Bulmash, “Suspension,” collage on paper
But flipping the image captures the surreal nature of school in the Upside-Down more accurately. I’m still working on a way to visualize my kids’ isolation in a new way, though. I think they (and I) are getting out of the habit of being around people who don’t live with them. Which brings us back to the word of the day: When will they hang out with their friends again, without having to be pried out of our house?