Cherry Tomatoes

Greetings,

I'm Bridget Conn and I just arrived here on the 5th. I'll be here until mid June, such is the plan. I moved out of my house in Athens, Georgia before I left, so I guess for now I live in Greensboro, North Carolina. I'll be teaching in Ohio later in the summer, and then in south Georgia, teaching, working and living with a my little artist group (www.stillmoreroots.com), and/or in India on a residency. Either way, it's all art for me for the rest of the year, and for this I am thankful.

I'm taking a lot of photos, but I don't want to post them all here cause it's a lot. I'm posting them at Kodak Easyshare, at www.kodakgallery.com. I guess you have to be invited to view the album though. If you'd like to see, email me at bridget_conn@yahoo.com and I'll do so.

I've been doing a lot of looking, mostly. I have brought some things to my desk to contemplate for awhile. I have lists of things that caught my eye, and lists of places in the space I may want to work in. Yesterday, after having been here for 24 hours, I went to the grocery store with Steph and George. In the produce section I saw a box of cherry tomatoes on its side with the contents spilled open. I realized in that moment, because I had just snapped out of it, how much I had already become enveloped in the space, realizing that I probably shouldn't go and arrange the tomatoes methodically around the produce section. I've figured out really quickly why this place is called Elsewhere. It's not like simply having a studio, it's being completely a part of the space, your eyes are constantly working and comparing objects and making relationships. I told them my thought with the tomatoes when we were out last night, and they completely understood. Steph said something to the effect of, "We've been here two years, how do you think we see everything? We're screwed. We'll never be able to function in the world again."

I'm also interested in how Elsewhere functions as people come in, preparing for a commercial experience (even though it's posted on the door that nothing is for sale, doesn't seem like they read much). We may be having a meal and discussing politics, and people pop in expecting to buy a trinket. I wonder what it looks like for them. For me, it feels a little like I'm on a reality show or something, without the banality and emaciated women. It plays with the idea of public/private time and space. I don't usually have to worry about strangers wandering into my day at unexpected times. So far, I really like it. It makes me have to be prepared to talk to people more, and be accomodating.

I'm excited to do a window display, but I think I have a lot of work before I get to that point.

Things on my desk:
wooden frame with oval mirror
green yarn
spool of red thread
pocket watch
plastic figurine of woman's torso
plastic tag, reads: hot cider
letter from italy to george's grandfather
plastic container of dirt and dead plant
framed illustration of man and woman, text reading "the colonel gave me the medal"
mason jar with blue thread spool
holga camera, color film to be developed monday
frame containing card with pressed flowers, text reading "flowers from the holy land"
jewelry box containing buttons, pushpins, picture of jesus, needle and small spool of thread, and miniature gold watering can
weeble that used to remind me of my mom as a kid
A&P ad from newspaper dated 1960
small topped jar of clear liquid, no label

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