Sculpture

I try to blend art, nature, and science and am sometimes slightly successful.  But this, this, is the real deal. 

I've been thinking a lot about sculpture lately--how I would sculpt, what materials I would use--and it's tricky for me.   Like my paintings, I would want my 3D work to have a deeper narrative that's not always apparent at first.

This ant colony "sculpture" is exactly what I want my 3D art to be.  It's a product of interdisciplinary exploration.  It's abstracted, but upon closer examination, completely honest.  It's beautiful, but terrifying in reality.  And, just like my paintings, it highlights the spirit of discovery.

So, now that I'm thoroughly inspired, time to think of my own sculptural work.  My brain twists and strains for stability in such a boundless medium.

Thanks again familyguiding.com !

This month topic for www.familyguiding.com was "Gratitude for Grandparents".  Luckily for me, as a contributor for their arts page, my grandmother was a painter, and a very good one.

Around the age of 50, when she began her undergrad education, she picked up painting and loved it.  Now, my parents house is filled with Ruth Papin paintings that show the 30 year transition from realistic still-life vases, to thick impressionistic sun-lit gardens, and finally, lively, raw abstract paintings opening up fluctuating emotion as it is translated through oil paint.  Toward the end, the image mattered less than the act.

Here's the article from www.familyguiding.com :

Arts – Memories of Grandma at 70 Miles Per Hour

Last month, I embarked on a 10-day long road trip from Washington D.C. to Tahoe, California. My sister and her fiance were moving from East to West coast, and my boyfriend and I decided that helping to drive was a great excuse to escape the horizonless confines of New York City.

Moving 70 miles an hour across the country, my eyes tried to absorb every geographic change, from the dead and heavy 100 degree plains, to the commanding puffed chest of the rockies. We felt the mass of being circled by the earths edge, and the vulnerability of seeing canyon walls pinch the clouds above our car.

On the third day of our trip, my grandmother passed away. She, my mother, and I all paint and I have, and still use, some of her art supplies. I’ve learned about her through seeing the tools she used to interpret the world. Lots of blue and green paint, stiff wide brushes, and a thickening medium. I oddly feel like an extension of her work by using the materials she used. Growing up with her paintings on the wall, I knew that our personalities were different, that we didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but we somehow possessed the same hobby −the same love of color and nature.

Do we all see the world the same? We definitely don’t recount the world the same. Does my body become euphoric when I see bright green because I’m from a city where concrete grey is the dominant shade? Or, is it something inherent in the mechanics of my vision and mind? Am I like my grandmother more than I like to think I am?

Scrape away the generational gap, forget the petty judgements that last beyond rough holiday dinners, and family members offer us answers to questions about our being that even close friends can’t. I wonder now if she painted like I paint, if her methods were like mine, and if she would see and feel the same impact from a certain pale green succulent in Utah that I did. And then, if she’d start to mimic it in her art like I have.

With air beating against my ears, the desert that is so absent from my daily life and thoughts, became all too present after the first hundred long, empty miles. And, driving toward a city at night shining like christmas lights tangled on the horizon, my sister and I shared stories. We share a family, we share a history, and we share DNA−that importance can’t be understated. The people that you can learn the most from, and who can learn the most from you, are family members. Open up, be forgiving, and listen hard−you’re closer than you might realize.

The Dung Beetle

I’ve always liked exploring the bizarre hard wiring of insects.  Their tiny brains have had millions of years to perfect survival in its most efficient and direct ways.  Non-individualistic and mechanical, their pattern of “eat and procreate” can be both mundane and beautiful.  That’s why, when I heard the news that dung beetles navigate by using the Milky Way Galaxy, there was no question that I had to paint it.

The poo pile--a competitive, thriving, and temporary ecosystem.  The creatures that depend on it are always in search, and willing to fight, for a share of steaming leftover nutrients.  And, mandible deep in shit, the Dung Beetle emerges as a creature beautifully evolved for the sole purpose of scavenging and transporting fresh feces.  

In a rush to escape the chaotic fight for food, they sculpt their ball of dung and roll it away with focus and accuracy, standing upside down and backwards and heading straight toward their den.  We now know that their four sets of eyes are watching both the ground and sky--sun in the day, and the rough glow of the Milky Way Galaxy at night--allowing them the ability to travel straight, with intention and precision.  Scientists tried manipulating their location, swiveling them around, and adjusting their surroundings, but it was only after putting the Dung Beetle in a planetarium and altering the fake night sky that the Milky Way was recognized as their compass.

Watch the awesome Dung Beetle Ted Talk here.

So, why should we be impressed?  No other animal that we know of uses the Milky Way specifically as its compass, but there are plenty of crazy animal navigation stories involving everything from magnetic fields to highly tuned memorization abilities.  The difference for me though, is that insects often get overlooked. 

Unfortunately, most of us have a hard time relating to alien exoskeletal mini-beings. If it's not cute and cuddly, it probably won't get much love from the general public.  So, in these occasional moments where we discover that an insect does something that seems loaded with intent and human-like rationale, we’re blown away.  Our own biases toward the stupidest things like "poop" and "beetles" are exposed and our eyes open to the vast spectrum of perfectly relatable and fascinating intelligence contained in all sizes of brains and in varying degrees of "cute" animals.

I'm guilty of the judgement, too. I don't think snakes are cute, I think kittens are cute. Therefore I care much more about kittens than snakes. But when you see a lack of funding or attention given to animals like snakes, sharks and spiders, or (maybe to a lesser degree) fish, frogs, and bees, you realize how harmful and pivotal these ridiculous discriminations can be.  If creating anthropomorphic view of an animal can mean the difference between extinction and survival, knowledge and dead air, then by all means go right ahead.

Maybe the Dung Beetle, with the galaxy reflecting on its wings and the earth moving tediously past, has not immediately given us life changing scientific answers through its navigational methods. But there are about 400,000 species of beetle in the world. If you allot equal importance to each of those 400,000, and were somehow given the funds, man-power and time study each bug, imagine the change in attitude from the resulting knowledge bank of bug facts. Imagine the respect and conservation efforts that could come from thinking of bugs like we think of mammals.  Different genus? Definitely. Less significant? No.


If only there were time to know each one personally.

Dung Beetle page from my notebook

Family Guiding article

Thank you www.familyguiding.com for inviting me to be a guest author for the month of September!  It was so exciting and such a new, fun experience for me, and I must say--I really enjoyed it!  Hopefully more opportunities like this will come my way...

Here's the link http://familyguiding.com/arts-embrace-your-evolution

And here's the article!  Hope you like it:

A few years ago, I started a painting about vampire bats. The end product looked like a psychedelic cartoon of pink gremlins in an apocalyptic candyland.  I very quickly despised everything about it and rolled it up to be banished under the couch, a gift to the dust, never to be seen again.

Some days, my work flows through me like casual conversation. I make the right decisions without distinctly deciding anything at all.  Then, there are the days, like with my vampire bats, when I look at my painting and see a complete stranger. Where an intricately laid thin line turns into a lightning strike fracturing my piece in two, or a beautifully textured wash, that took hours, dissolves into a flat aimless smear.  Or worse, when the meaning of my piece that seemed so thought-out does not come through at all, leaving a boring, random animal painting: vampire bats.

“Fire Ant Raft” Jackie Dorage, 16in x 20in Oil on Canvas

Wasted time, unaccomplished, distracted, unable, delusional, untalented, subpar—the negativity born from perceived “mistakes” can crumble the delicate momentum of the creative process.

When I come to these moments of frustration over my creative mistakes and I am reminded of Pandas—the bamboo-eating, cow-spotted, fat, fluffy, notoriously cute six-fingered bears. Yes, four fingers and two thumbs (one opposable like ours and one stagnant like other bears) for a total of six fingers.  This funny little Panda fact baffled scientists for a long time, until a comprehensive study on Panda anatomy was done only to find out that one of the thumbs was not a thumb at all, but an extension of the wrist bone that had grown to be so big and muscular that it acted and moved like an opposable thumb.

Our own sacred opposable thumb that we hold at such high esteem as a distinctive trait in our dominance, was recreated by a Panda’s wrist bone so it can eat bamboo faster. Why did the Panda not evolve to make the already existing thumb, opposable? Why not evolve another thumb bone altogether? While it may go against all logic, the wrist-thumb works. And in times when I look at my work and the self critic in me gets up in arms, I have to remember the many paths to finding a viable solution.

“Elephants” Jackie Dorage, oil on canvas 40x28in

It’s not “the best”, “the worst”, “right” or “wrong”; it’s a non-stop, improvised process that flows slowly with time, stretching, struggling, and twisting down a jury-rigged path.

You may see a mutation, but give it time, and it could lead to best thing you’ve ever created.

My anger over the vampire bat painting is over. Yes, it’s still rolled up, but it’s in my studio now and I occasionally take it out and look at it with admiration.  I think about it without a grimace on my face, considering each awkward brushstrokes as a step that bridges my past work to my current and future work. We’ll all experience deviations, mess-ups, break-ups, regrettable words, and embarrassing paintings. These bumps in our lives can be disgraced as unwanted mutations, unorthodox and shameful, or be highlighted and accepted as a new change, a chance to evolve and create something greater.

So, the next time you feel you’re dealt a bad hand, there is a choice: pass, fold, or make an opposable thumb.

THIS animal

I know little to nothing about this animal.  What I do know is that it's a type of porcupine found in the rain forests in and around Brazil, and it's kind of bizarre looking.  Also, it apparently loves bananas and makes child-like sounds when you poke it in the nose.

I don't usually post an animal for the sole purpose of commenting about how cute it is, but really, SO CUTE!  I mean, my god what is this?!?  i have no words!

Silkworms

I was browsing the internet, not even searching animal things like I usually do, when I came across this video of the "Silk Pavilion":





To read about it, click here.

When I first watched this video, I didn't quite get the magnitude of it.  I thought the students just made a dome, released a bunch of silk worms, and Bam!  Silk-covered-dome.  In actuality, everything about this dome is complete purposeful, planned, and mapped out through analyzing how silkworms build and mimicking these geometric patterns on a massive scale.  The end product is an alien-looking pavilion with translucent undulating

MIT's silk pavilion 

patterns and holes, trimmed by a delicately spiked profile.  It's a beautiful mix of science, nature, math and art and ohhhh my goodness I love it.

(For a more complete understanding and  appreciation, goggle "Silk Pavilion" and read one of the many articles explaining the process.)



All of this got me thinking about the bizarre, bizarre world of silkworms.

So, here's the first crazy bit of information that I found out:  Silkworms are domesticated, and have been for around 5,000 years.   Their ability to fly is gone, making them completely vulnerable in the wild. There might still be some varieties of wild un-domesticated Silkworm, but most of those have gone extinct.

They are also one of the most genetically modified animals.  Of course, through the domestication came an increase in cocoon size and silk strength, but in a more creepy sci-fi way, look below:

<----Fluorescent Silk.

 Come and get it ladies!  Everyone is dying for a fluffy glow-in-the-dark wedding dress for the big day!  Yes, this could be a big economic benefit and yes, silk makes fabric and fabric makes clothes and people like wearing florescent clothes (I guess).   If the Holy Grail of the fashion industry is the "wow" factor, and that certainly was a word that crossed my mind when seeing this photo, then fashion industry, meet science.  But, what kind of injection did this?!  Maybe just a good dose of the 80's.


The next crazy genetic modification of the Silkworm is the adjustment to have it make human collagen (I chose not to search this on google image).   There's a lot of scientific terminology going on in this article about it, but basically it has to do with proteins.   I tried to grasp it all but I couldn't stop thinking about an unnaturally big-lipped lady bragging at a dinner party about her latest cosmetic treatments ("It's silk").

Along with the trend of Silkworm modifications fit for a reality TV show, there's also a funny caterpillar v. spider competition going on to see who can create the strongest silk.  Right now, spiders are winning.  However, at the rate that genetic modification is going, I have no doubt that our talented little caterpillar friends will be busting out with some kevlar army ropes pretty soon.

I can't believe my premonition!  Headline:  Hybrid Silkworm Can Spin Spider Silk.  And yes, mass production of army kevlar-strength materials is mentioned.

The last (not-so-fun) fact is that silk isn't vegan.

Once Silkworms are resting their tired, fat bodies inside genetically enlarged cocoons, waiting patiently to transform into a genetically weirdo Silkmoth, they release an enzyme that breaks through the silk allowing for freedom--wing-stretching, silk-ending, freedom!  But not anymore (I should write for PETA).

Since this enzyme destroys the silk, Silkworms rarely get to see their adulthood.  Instead the cocoons are boiled, killing the caterpillar inside and preventing the harmful enzyme from being released.

Don't worry vegans, Peace Silk is there to give you your vegan-friendly fabric with no animals harmed in the process.

But here is a major bright side to the story--all of the Silkworm larvae that get boiled in the process to make us what we want, becomes a food source for millions of people. "Beondegi", or Silkworm Pupae, is a popular snack that comes boiled or steamed, has zero carbs and is full of protein.  Plus, farming insects is incredibly eco-friendly using minimal water, space, and transportation energy.

The ancient concept of using animals whole and considering this abundance of meat, material, and companionship as sacred has certainly dwindled over the past hundreds or thousands of years.   However, with the known decrease in natural resources and increase in population, going back to cherished thriftiness is definitely a compelling thought.  From birth to death, Silkworms bodies and abilities assist us, feed us, clothe us, create for us, and invent with us--without taking anything in return.  Could our modern day sacred animal be the Silkworm?  I think so.

Page from my notebook about Silkworms

2nd Friday Art Walk!

Come to Muchmore's at 2 Havemeyer Street in Brooklyn this Friday!  My art will be on the walls and the crowd should be a good one because of the Northside Festival.  It should be great!

http://www.artslant.com/ny/events/show/281641-paintings-by-jackie-dorage

https://www.facebook.com/Every2ndFriday

Elephants

"Elephants" oil on canvas 40x28in

I have been wanting to paint elephants for about two years.

But every time I started developing ideas, I hit a block.  There is a massive amount of information, cultural and factual, about elephants that spans the spectrum from a completely anthropomorphized Dumbo to the ivory trade.  And a lot of this information is strong, emotionally powerful, and deeply image related.

So, there's where the difficulty was.  Elephants are such a loaded topic with such iconic imagery that there's hardly room beyond that.  Then again, going too far beyond the imagery and conservation issues becomes dishonest and ignorant.  This middle ground is where most of my art is and where my elephant painting came from.

Elephants are unique among threatened animal.  The obvious difference is that they're huge land dwellers.  So, unlike the Snow Leopard or the Golden Frog, being cryptic is not an option.  Also, they don't have the dangerous mystique of other threatened animals like the Polar Bear.  This, paired with their ability to live in captivity, makes them a trophy pet for parades, circuses and zoo's.  Also, it allows scientists study them immensely to the point where we have a good understanding of their emotional habits, their social structures, and the way they live--all things that are super fashionable in popular science.  And, after all of this knowledge, interaction, contact, popularization, they still get wiped out by the masses for ivory.

I'm not wondering why this happens (I get it), it's just an interesting case and frustrating to digest.  It's a sad truth--a loved animal, that can't seem to survive.  

Their size is another thing I wanted to focus on.  They remind us that in our world right now, animal size can do more harm than good.  They're massive, but could be swashed like a bug if we don't pay attention.  And by "pay attention" I mean rigorous funding, ad campaigns, and political involvement from multiple countries including the U.S. and China (high hopes?). 

With my painting I wanted to restore the distance and mystery of the elephant.  The sad calm that comes from being too big to hide and the isolation of a species under threat.  I want to have a momentary appreciation for elephants where the danger of their situation doesn't trump the beauty.  To me, my painting is sad--I could hardly handle researching elephants because of the constant stream of horrifying images and stories that the internet had for me (don't google "ivory").  With all the economics, national interests, international codes, sovereignty, trade regulations, government, and politics in general--it is a sad story.  Because in the middle of all of that noise, is a species that is struggling. 



Hope you like it!

BROOKLYN RAW!!! JUNE 19TH!!

I'm in the Brooklyn RAW Artist Art Show Event!!  June 19th 8pm-midnight at 74 Wythe Avenue, Brooklyn.


I have to sell 20 tickets in order to be in the show, so if you want to come, click here:  http://www.rawartists.org/jackiedorage


There's going to be a DJ, fashion show, film screening, and lots of art.  Plus, I'll be showing lots of my new pieces!

BUY TICKETS!!

Bumble Bees--again.

Bee's have really long tongues.

Cons--they sting.  Pros--too many to list.

I still don't like bees, but somehow with everything else I research, they keep popping up.  This time, I was looking up houseflies--they taste with their feet, spit on food, then vacuum it up with their bizarre tube-mouth.  Awesome.

In searching the BBC nature website for more information on an ancient Chinese method of solving murder mysteries with houseflies, I came across a gem of an article called "Bomblebees to the Rescue" 

Ridiculously stupid name.  But, the point is made--bee's are now being trained to sniff out bombs.  Apparently, a bees sense of smell is comparable  to a dogs and, with less training time necessary, way cheaper.    Bees are such an attractive choice that the UK has given Heathrow Airport 250,000 pounds to start a bumblebee project.  And now, the flood gates have opened--bee's are starting to be used in detecting landmines, illegal drug trafficking, and scientists are seeing if they can detect illness in humans. 

There is a down-side.  First, there are a plethora of reasons why you can't have bees flying around, free of restraint.   Obviously, that would terrify any one in an enclosed area.  But also, such as the case of detecting landmines, bee's have a short attention span.  Yes, it takes them 5 seconds to learn (no, seriously...I read it, 5 seconds to learn), but if there are any tasty fruit trees around, they're off the job. 

To combat this problem, scientists at Heathrow developed a vacuum cleaner-like mechanism that houses bees who have been trained to stick out their (incredibly long) tongue when they smell their target.  Then, a sensor goes off when it detects the tongue and Done!  Illicit material, FOUND!

My prediction for the future: bee's sensing cancerous tumors, bee's sensing dangerous gas leaks, and me still being afraid of bees.