Sardines

Have you seen all the sardine art everywhere lately? It’s on all the housewares – I know because I now have napkins, trays, pillows, and a candle. My mom found me a phone case with sardines. And even though it’s pink instead of my signature yellow, I’m carrying it because: Sardines!

Sardines are everywhere and I love it. I love it for a couple of reasons. Sardine can art is interesting in of itself – there’s history there in the decoration of the tins. Then people‘s artistic interpretations of that art more recently is a whole other level of fun.

Artists and Poets and Process

This uptick in sardine art everywhere has made me remember one of my favorite poems “Why I am not a painter”. I first read it in high school and I’ve been quasi-obsessed with it ever since. In the poem, the poet Frank O’Hara talks about meeting with his friend, the artist Mike Goldberg. Mike is working on a painting called Sardines. Frank started out writing about oranges. Then at the end, his work is titled Oranges but there’s no oranges in it. In the poem the passage of time highlights the work they are both doing painting and writing. There’s something about the meandering path of creativity and how you get to a finished piece that lives inside this poem that feels just so very spot on.

All these sardine images everywhere keep this fresh for me. I think about Mike Goldberg and Frank O’Hara hanging out together, having a few drinks, talking about their work in the 1950s and how nothing’s really changed. Creativity works exactly the same way today. That makes me think that creativity has always worked like this: we work, we go talk to people about it, we go back and work some more, we find another group to talk about it with and it’s just this endless cycle.

Last week I posted some videos encouraging people to make things and then spend time in community. This week I’m thinking about how that works for me and who I do that with. Over the years, I’ve had a lot of people be a part of my artist journey. I’m thankful for all of them and the time we’ve spent together. I think about all of our rich conversations and how that’s proven to be fertile ground for my work.

My youngest child graduated from high school this past month. And I’ve noticed that I’ve started asking them pretty regularly to look at something for me and give their opinion. I trust their judgment. They’ve been on their own creativity journey for a while now. Their journey looks very different than mine, they are a drawer where I am not. They have an eye for color that’s very different from mine and their perspective is interesting to me and keeps me flexible. I have to say, having another artist who lives in your house is really convenient!

Slow down and look for the sardines

While writing this, I went down a rabbit hole reading about Frank O’Hara and Mike Goldberg. I ordered a biography about Frank O’Hara because it looked good. I looked at more of Mike’s paintings and read articles. Then I looked at art that others had made of sardines and in sardine tins. I’ve basically spent all weekend scratching around the internet, looking for sardines and turning over some amazingly interesting things. And so here we are again to process.

My process has slowed down tremendously over the course of the past year. My word of the year in 2024 was “slow” and it feels like in many ways, it’s continued to inform my art practice. Work is slow and then I also slow down for life and various tangents to life and work. I go slower because I’m getting older and because my life is full of people and things I need to attend to.

One of the things that “slow” has taught me is that all the hurry I’ve been spending my whole life on is brought on by capitalism and I don’t actually have to rush through the best parts of my life. I can (and want to) take my time. Rushing for the sake of going faster is dumb and I’m doing my very best to unlearn the behavior. Images of sardines and “days go by” are now linked in my mind and it’s a reminder that the creative process takes the time it takes.

I’ve got a Sardines poster by Felicia Chiao hanging in my studio. It’s a good reminder to take the time I need to do the work.

What about you? What are you obsessed with right now and what is it teaching you? I’d love to hear about it! Email me or start a conversation by leaving a comment on this post! If you’d like to keep up with what I’m working on, I’d love to have you as a newsletter subscriber. I include blog posts from here, cool things I find online, and pictures of my dogs. Sign up here.