My art has always been psychologically charged, at times providing cathartic relief through the act of creation. Anyone who is familiar with my artwork and process will not be surprised to learn that my practice is gravitating towards the use of art in the field of psychology.
Art is a form of expression and communication not hindered by linguistic limitations. As applied to psychology, art therapy is a viable, holistic method for addressing cognitive, social, and behavioral issues through the physicality of the art making experience and interpersonal reflection on the creative process.
Since obtaining my Master in Fine Arts, I have coupled creativity and psychology through a myriad of experiences. Whether teaching for a non-profit art organization in Los Angeles or assisting as visual arts director serving underprivileged children in New York City, I cherished the positive impact I had on my students. While these jobs were socially and creatively engaging, I wondered how I could grow to help people suffering from the aftermath of traumatic experiences.
I discovered that art therapy could provide this deeper interpersonal connection by marrying my artistic abilities and my growing knowledge of psychology to facilitate expression, promote communication, and improve the quality of life for individuals suffering from mental illness.
Hardship is an inherent part of the human experience, and I have witnessed the power of art to help manage overwhelming trauma and emotional distress.
This fall, I have applied to embark on a new journey into the world of art and psychology through a(nother) 2-year masters program in Art Therapy. 

After settling into the new garage studio space, I thought back on the places my studio had resided (or not) in the past year. There was the shared art residency space, and the private garage studio, and also the mobile, create on-the-go approach I used for a few months. I had been thinking of the residency as a special time/place where you could accomplish things you couldn't otherwise do, but maybe this wasn't true. Perhaps, it was a matter of attitude. What if you approached your everyday studio with the mindset that it was your personal art residency space? What if that residency lasted 365 days rather than thirty? I have been entering the studio daily with the same sense of motivation and urgency that I felt during the residency, yet there is no anxiety of a looming deadline and I am working from my garage.

Much of my energy is due to me having several unfinished works which I have recently unboxed. All of those half-completed sculptures from the residency are now serving as a nice starting place. I also have been developing an installation project, called the Erotic Environment. Below you can see the beginnings of that project in white. More about that soon...

After moving from a studio, to a mobile operation, to a residency space, and back again, I have found a new place to create artwork. A single-car garage in Venice, CA will now serve as my production space. Back to Los Angeles!

Having completed the residency about a month ago, I've had some time to gain perspective and analyze my experience abroad. In total, the residency was a challenging, but beneficial, time for me to explore creating art outside of my normal routine and atmosphere. Being in a new and unfamiliar environment proved to be quite a distraction. I learned that I am someone who works well once I have settled into a space, and I found a month to be too short to really get into that comfort zone.
Another challenging aspect to the residency was the idea of creating "on demand". I have found that there is a natural ebb and flow to my studio practice. At times, I work in a manic-like state creating multiple pieces at once. Other instances, I go into the studio and just sit and look. The drive it takes to produce art is not constant for me, and there are other facets of my art practice outside of studio time (such as writing, applying for exhibitions, studio visits, etc). Given the restricted time frame of the residency, I felt the need to manufacture motivation and to work as much as possible. I felt like there was no time to waste with only thirty days in Spain. Forcing production is very different from the way I typically work, and I found this to be the most difficult part of the month.
I completed the residency feeling underwhelmed with my progress. While I began several new pieces during this time, none were complete. I had no finished works to show as a by-product of my efforts, and this was discouraging. It has taken time for me to flesh out the ways in which my art practice developed during the residency. Here are the most important things I learned from the experience:

• Progress is not measured by how many finished pieces you produce. As someone who generally works at a fast pace, using new materials and techniques that require more time have caused me to move at a slower speed. This doesn't mean that I am working less, but it does mean that it will take longer to create a finished piece and that my progress in the studio will look different.
  
• A residency is not separate from your entire art practice, but part of it. I had been viewing the residency as being a place where art careers come to reach maturation. In reality, no matter where my studio may reside, all of the work I create falls into the larger context of my art practice. 

With the two weeks that remained in the residency, I decided to remove myself from the seclusion of the studio and to explore the different museums and cultural happenings in and around Barcelona. The first few days were dedicated to getting lost. I wanted to wander around and stumble upon parts of Barcelona that I was not expecting to find. While there are plenty of galleries, museums and monuments, I did not want to spend my time racing from one destination to the next. Instead, I incorporated time to meander through the streets and find things that were unexpected. While I am highly influenced by artistic masters of the past, they are not the solitary source of my creative inspiration. I wanted to soak in as much of my surroundings as possible and see how these different elements would reemerge in my future creations.

During my hikes, I have been noticing the different forms and colors found in the surrounding environment and how the native fauna here differs from other places I have traveled. Something that stands out is the color of the lichen growing on the trees near the Montserrat mountains. While the circular shape of the moss is not so unfamiliar, I have never before seen this bright golden color.