Cecil, this was a quietly powerful meditation on memory, process, and the creative mind. I especially loved your line about memory working more like compost than archive—feeding the present in ways we often can’t see. The tension you describe between remembering and letting go feels so familiar. There’s something freeing about trusting that what matters will return when it’s needed. I’ve also found that letting go of certain experiences or projects can be just as vital as holding onto them, and that documenting something (through sketches, notes, or even just a quick photo) somehow frees me up to move on creatively. Your approach makes me think differently about what it means to document and why we do it—not just to preserve, but to make space for what comes next. Thanks for sharing this insight. It made me want to pay closer attention to both what I keep and what I let drift away.
The thing is, if you establish your body of work in an archival way, and thinking of your whole body of work and thought as a single ongoing work, recording everything is what gives the archive fidelity as in: 'the degree of exactness with which something is copied or reproduced.' Fidelity is really about recording everything in as organized a way as possible and that is what gives clarity when looking back. I am only so good at it myself even though it became a priority of practice for me beginning in 2010.
I always kept pretty good track of any of my art that would go out to galleries just so I could keep up with them remotely in terms of communication and coordination. But as I started communal projects and collecting exhibitions worth of work from other artists, I was only thinking about the specific show in terms of archiving.
I eventually realized that since I developed multiple 'departments of interest' for the communal archives, I needed a uniform global inventory system for the ever growing number of incoming works to the museum/communal archives regardless of how or when I focused on one community or another.
For instance, fluxus artists, mail artists, collage artists, asemic and visual poetry artist/poets, collected vernacular photography, etc. so that all became an ontological museum number and organized by year. for instance OM.2026.004, OM.2026.005, OM.2026.006, etc. That solved a lot of organizational problems I was encountering.
Then I applied that to my own body or work and only since 2022 I added the idea of daily journaling to it as a way to keep notes on everything. The journal catches anything textual. While complex, I keep moving more and more to simpler ways to handle things in order to keep up with myself.
In the end, I am just an artist, not a trained archival person. So it took me a long time to figure it out. I don't know why that is not a required class for a fine art degree. No matter what kind of artist you are you are going to benefit from understanding and respecting archival methods. As an artist, we should all be building our catalogue raisonné year by year as we go along. I have been doing that since 2010 as well. I have actually published them through 2019 https://ceciltouchon.com/publications/ Since the pandemic I have not continued to physically published them but each year since then has still been completed as a manuscript, just not physically published yet.
Thank you, Cecil, for taking the time to share your experience and methods so generously. I admit, the scale and detail of your archival process is a bit overwhelming—but also incredibly inspiring. I absolutely agree that every piece, record, and reflection contributes to the overall fidelity of one’s creative journey. My own archive is a patchwork of paintings, writings, poetry, photos, and community projects, and I do my best to capture what I can in a meaningful way (even if it’s not always as systematic as I’d like).
Right now I’m deep in the process of formatting my first official book of artwork, and your dedication to cataloguing and publishing your work motivates me to keep at it, even when it feels daunting. I’m grateful for your openness about figuring things out over time—sometimes it feels like artists are just expected to know how to do all this from the start! Your publications and commitment to the archive are a real example for the rest of us. Thank you again for your thoughts and encouragement.
Being overwhelmed is the big issue really. My solution at present is to tackle everything in bite sized chunks on a more or less daily basis. That basically means noticing how things accumulate and creating 'baskets' to separate and hold those various things. It takes a bit of forethought and then after that practice till it just becomes normal and you don't have to think about it because of habit or routine. It is kind of the old idea of 'a place for everything and everything in its place.' Not that I am very good at that. But I have at least created to program for myself. After that, overwhelm-wise, is thinking in museum time - over decades and centuries. That way you can slow down and be methodical without freaking out. by accepting that stuff takes time.
I do that also. I have intuitively developed a system. I do what I can to be consistent with flexibility because what I want to accomplish and what life allows don't always match so I let it evolve as beneficial without urgency as I want to be real and not turn it into a performance. I tend to have several ideas and projects going on simultaneously and a living creative life plan that is also flexible - room for growth without pressure. I am learning what is required to fully live a creative life that reflects me and is coherent. It's truly wonderful but it also requires some things. Thanks, Cecil.
Great essay as always. Memory is a strange and wonderful thing...both when it pops up unexpectedly via a smell or song even a deja vu or when purposefully digging around for a specific one to just relive or understand. I rarely do an art piece that's about a specific memory but there was one that HAD to be made, called "Mrs. Lurp's Purse". This woman from long ago when I was a kid.......a mother of one of my sister's friends. Such a weird character that re-emerged into my psyche one day so I made a piece about her. I love the piece a lot and feel it really captures the essence of who this woman was in my memory.
That is super cool Annette. would love to see "Mrs. Lurp's Purse" (what a great title). In fact, I want to see the whole bunch of works you have been mentioning. I might have to plan a trip to show up down there and look at everything if you'll let me see it. Maybe in the next few weeks. I want to go see my grandson Henry and my daughter Brittany in DFW. Maybe go to Laura Rathe Gallery and see what inventory I need to exchange with her so she has some fresh things. Business trip!
You are very welcomed to come over and see all the pieces including "Mrs. Lurp's Purse". Any time is good with me; you have my contact info and I'd love to see you again; it's been many years since you showed at New Gallery which doesn't exist any longer as you know. Keep in touch.
Cecil, this was a quietly powerful meditation on memory, process, and the creative mind. I especially loved your line about memory working more like compost than archive—feeding the present in ways we often can’t see. The tension you describe between remembering and letting go feels so familiar. There’s something freeing about trusting that what matters will return when it’s needed. I’ve also found that letting go of certain experiences or projects can be just as vital as holding onto them, and that documenting something (through sketches, notes, or even just a quick photo) somehow frees me up to move on creatively. Your approach makes me think differently about what it means to document and why we do it—not just to preserve, but to make space for what comes next. Thanks for sharing this insight. It made me want to pay closer attention to both what I keep and what I let drift away.
The thing is, if you establish your body of work in an archival way, and thinking of your whole body of work and thought as a single ongoing work, recording everything is what gives the archive fidelity as in: 'the degree of exactness with which something is copied or reproduced.' Fidelity is really about recording everything in as organized a way as possible and that is what gives clarity when looking back. I am only so good at it myself even though it became a priority of practice for me beginning in 2010.
I always kept pretty good track of any of my art that would go out to galleries just so I could keep up with them remotely in terms of communication and coordination. But as I started communal projects and collecting exhibitions worth of work from other artists, I was only thinking about the specific show in terms of archiving.
I eventually realized that since I developed multiple 'departments of interest' for the communal archives, I needed a uniform global inventory system for the ever growing number of incoming works to the museum/communal archives regardless of how or when I focused on one community or another.
For instance, fluxus artists, mail artists, collage artists, asemic and visual poetry artist/poets, collected vernacular photography, etc. so that all became an ontological museum number and organized by year. for instance OM.2026.004, OM.2026.005, OM.2026.006, etc. That solved a lot of organizational problems I was encountering.
Then I applied that to my own body or work and only since 2022 I added the idea of daily journaling to it as a way to keep notes on everything. The journal catches anything textual. While complex, I keep moving more and more to simpler ways to handle things in order to keep up with myself.
In the end, I am just an artist, not a trained archival person. So it took me a long time to figure it out. I don't know why that is not a required class for a fine art degree. No matter what kind of artist you are you are going to benefit from understanding and respecting archival methods. As an artist, we should all be building our catalogue raisonné year by year as we go along. I have been doing that since 2010 as well. I have actually published them through 2019 https://ceciltouchon.com/publications/ Since the pandemic I have not continued to physically published them but each year since then has still been completed as a manuscript, just not physically published yet.
Thank you, Cecil, for taking the time to share your experience and methods so generously. I admit, the scale and detail of your archival process is a bit overwhelming—but also incredibly inspiring. I absolutely agree that every piece, record, and reflection contributes to the overall fidelity of one’s creative journey. My own archive is a patchwork of paintings, writings, poetry, photos, and community projects, and I do my best to capture what I can in a meaningful way (even if it’s not always as systematic as I’d like).
Right now I’m deep in the process of formatting my first official book of artwork, and your dedication to cataloguing and publishing your work motivates me to keep at it, even when it feels daunting. I’m grateful for your openness about figuring things out over time—sometimes it feels like artists are just expected to know how to do all this from the start! Your publications and commitment to the archive are a real example for the rest of us. Thank you again for your thoughts and encouragement.
Being overwhelmed is the big issue really. My solution at present is to tackle everything in bite sized chunks on a more or less daily basis. That basically means noticing how things accumulate and creating 'baskets' to separate and hold those various things. It takes a bit of forethought and then after that practice till it just becomes normal and you don't have to think about it because of habit or routine. It is kind of the old idea of 'a place for everything and everything in its place.' Not that I am very good at that. But I have at least created to program for myself. After that, overwhelm-wise, is thinking in museum time - over decades and centuries. That way you can slow down and be methodical without freaking out. by accepting that stuff takes time.
I do that also. I have intuitively developed a system. I do what I can to be consistent with flexibility because what I want to accomplish and what life allows don't always match so I let it evolve as beneficial without urgency as I want to be real and not turn it into a performance. I tend to have several ideas and projects going on simultaneously and a living creative life plan that is also flexible - room for growth without pressure. I am learning what is required to fully live a creative life that reflects me and is coherent. It's truly wonderful but it also requires some things. Thanks, Cecil.
Great essay as always. Memory is a strange and wonderful thing...both when it pops up unexpectedly via a smell or song even a deja vu or when purposefully digging around for a specific one to just relive or understand. I rarely do an art piece that's about a specific memory but there was one that HAD to be made, called "Mrs. Lurp's Purse". This woman from long ago when I was a kid.......a mother of one of my sister's friends. Such a weird character that re-emerged into my psyche one day so I made a piece about her. I love the piece a lot and feel it really captures the essence of who this woman was in my memory.
That is super cool Annette. would love to see "Mrs. Lurp's Purse" (what a great title). In fact, I want to see the whole bunch of works you have been mentioning. I might have to plan a trip to show up down there and look at everything if you'll let me see it. Maybe in the next few weeks. I want to go see my grandson Henry and my daughter Brittany in DFW. Maybe go to Laura Rathe Gallery and see what inventory I need to exchange with her so she has some fresh things. Business trip!
You are very welcomed to come over and see all the pieces including "Mrs. Lurp's Purse". Any time is good with me; you have my contact info and I'd love to see you again; it's been many years since you showed at New Gallery which doesn't exist any longer as you know. Keep in touch.