Crossing Boundaries

Busy times! Keeping me off the streets. Keeping me out of trouble. I had to edit my enthusiasm a lot, and still I found thirty-two photos of artwork to show you. Just artwork; no cute kitties or handsome husband enjoying front porch wine while the sun sets. (Weather has been a bit problematic for that, but soon, I implore, soon!)
No, the late arrival of spring has mostly kept me inside and focused. As has my loyalty to my class assignments, and the momentum that "The Year of the Giraffe" is bringing. I often stop in the afternoons for a bit of unbridled motion with my Zumba DVDs, and lust after the bods I will never again own, but generally I am grateful for my fitness and good health, and truly thankful for my daily dose of art.
Although I haven't had the time to do as much as I'd hoped so far, I did toy some more with the Sketch Club program for my iPad during the mixed media giraffe month of February, producing a digitally altered image of two of my conte crayon sketches from January/draw. I know I will eventually love having this medium in my arsenal, but right now I am back to mostly old school.

On March 1, Strathmore Artist Papers started their series of online month long workshops with something really new to me and appealing, lessons with Robert Joyner on "Abstract Fine Art Painting". Unfortunately, after the first week, and the purchase of a beautiful wood easel, I ran out of time and energy to keep up. I WILL be going back to these lessons soon. (Remind me I said this. I should say that the easel, taking up good space and sitting by my elbow as I type, keeps reminding me.) 

Week 1: Getting to know the materials

About the same time, my creative arts ringleader, Carla Sonheim, foolishly waved at me the chance to repeat some of her classes I had taken previously (and loved) for FREE! It felt like an opportunity that could not be missed because I was a bit needy for concrete direction, even though I like to go my own way within the guidelines. Good chance to start to weave my arts into one big theme: "giraffe world." From now on I was going to find a way to connect things, to cross boundaries and find my themes, my symbols, my inspiration. Trying to move from technical learning to ART. It's a process, but I'm feeling progress. First off, "Faces 101".

I made eight of these and, like a mother, I love every one.

Meanwhile, month three in Year of the Giraffe was all about sewing. For many classmates, this was a completely new challenge. For me the challenge was letting go of perfection, trying to design as I went and accept what happened. I still managed to make a character who is neat and precise and sturdy, but she is a character and I was very pleased with the results. (Maybe someday I will learn to make a "rag" doll, but  it so goes against the grain for me to sew sloppy when I've had a lifetime of learning perfection.)

We received suggestions, but mainly we designed our own patterns.

I had to learn how to make a mostly flat figure 3D by adding a gusset.

Meet my darling Stasha!

She has nose-trals and a tongue and she's somewhat flat so she only has one ossicone.

Here she poses in front of a garden painted armoire.

The second of the repeat classes was "Flower Crazy." Because Carla has the class research flower-like shapes both in nature and man-made objects to use for inspiration, I figured there was nothing more perfect than giraffe parts to fit the bill.

Spots, ossicones, and ears...

eyes and tails (in a field of bubbles).

Working on some gesso-first textural pieces inspired by my journal sketches of parts.

A swirl of leaves in the shape of giraffe eyes with long lashes.

Less obvious influence, but still more stylized than last year's .

In week three we did our painting on birch plywood and I took a break from animal parts to look for traditional floral inspiration. This change in style coincided with the beginning of the "What If? Diaries" on Jude Hill's private blog and class, where we are contemplating "white" as a design and materials source. The progression of paintings I did that week took me to a less colorful finish as I thought about the mysterious nature of white and led to a painting chosen for Flickr Explore that I am getting prepared to add to a white "What If?" art cloth.

Inspired by an antique tin ceiling tile.

The riot of watercolor is hidden under the gesso texture.

The final painting is a bit more neutral, dark and moody than most of my work, but it feels clean and exciting to me.

In week four, collage served as the basis for finding our flowers, and yet I was able to see a giraffe in the first one and some eyelash and ossicone inspired plant shapes in the second.

In April, our giraffe art has turned to writing, actually storytelling, in the form of   four one week assignments that for now are including drawings. Week 1: "Giraffe Invention" is detailed in two journal pages, then illustrated below. the crossover this time is a big one. I have just joined an eight week class with Jane Davenport and Teesha Moore called "Mermaid Circus". The story below has me taking my Stasha and some beloved hippos (a lifelong muse) to join the circus. And even though the class begins with the premise of mermaids, there will be giraffes and there will be hippos in my art!

My wonderful group of textile design companions, Designing Women, took on the project last meeting to work from a favorite print fabric and "ghost" the design outward in paint and stitch. Since I wasn't totally into this concept but wanted to work on something similar that could be applied to the White concept class, I chose to explore a personal symbol of sunrise/sunset in small pieces of hand painted (with procion dye) charmeuse, and create a series of three "poems". I am excited beyond all expectation with how they are coming along, ghosting the lines from the inspiration pieces, and yet moving on to something much more complete and yet abstract. They are speaking to me and yet they are not literal, and this is something I have been trying hard to learn. I believe it is that crossing over of boundaries. Pulling ideas from everywhere that help me find what I want to say and how to say it.

The backround fabric is from a silk broadcloth shirt, the assorted other pieces and bits from a session with rust and one with flour paste resist.

In this piece and the next I am using some procion dye drawn linework from a challenge project with Melly Testa.

And finally, the "Mermaid Circus" has begun. We have had a spellbinding first week of art and friendship and stirring the pot to mix and match and look for our own inspiration. You know what mine will be, but neither of us knows where the alchemy will take it. Come back soon to see my first painted books as they progress. I promise there will be magic!

Calming the Inner Storm

Inner turmoil, angst. It's been brewing ever since I returned from my trip to Spain. I have felt burdened lately by the demands I have made on myself, both to create, and to share. As I have said often before, there aren't enough hours in the day to do it all, and sometimes that inability to let things go brings me to a dead halt on it all. Like writing about my trip. For heaven's sake, I returned a month and a half ago, and haven't shared a thing! Overwhelmed by the richness of the experience, I didn't know where to begin. I have decided to share one more "art" story today, then move on to a number of posts in which I can tell you about my grand travels.

Also, I'd like to note that today is the second anniversary of my blog! In honor of where I have traveled in my creative life and what I feel has been achieved, I decided to take her out for a makeover treat, to let her look and feel evolve as needed. You will notice a new lightness to the template, hopefully an easier time reading the type. (I am trying to lighten my mood as well, hopefully complain less, but I can't guarantee.) All I know is that many around me are having hard times, and I have been blessed with riches of all sorts, primarily my good health and ability to pursue my heart's desires. What more do I need?

These dramatic night shots were taken on an evening this week when, with the spirit of Autumn in the air, my dear husband and I took to the yard as the sun descended and the moon rose to light our way, as we moved and raked and found peace in simply caring for what is in our keeping. When the work was done (or the evening too settled in), I went for my usual hot tea, and the camera, and spent some time recording a favorite theme, the warmth of house and home where love resides.

This head planter has greeted me every day at my front door for many years. There is something in her calm demeanor that sooths me, and yet in this guise she seems to pose a yet unanswered question.

It doesn't take a lot of light to make a welcome sign.

I was on a treasure hunt for images with just a touch of mystery about them.

So late in the season, the sun has abandoned this portulaca, but it still it has beauty in the light of the night. You can see more of these photos in the flikr set "Light and Shadow".

There is a storm brewing (even as I write these words) all along the East coast of the US, threatening life, property, and peace of mind. But here in my corner of the Midwest, life's crazy patchwork has finally been assembled into something I recognize as order and comfort. I am finally ready to continue telling my story. You know how sometimes being overwhelmed by too many demands can render even the things you love to do difficult, make you fearful of beginning new things. That's the way I have felt for the past few weeks. I decided I had to settle on doing something that had a rhythm and routine so well ingrained in memory that it didn't tear open the creative box, and scatter all the pieces. Neat orderly life, neat orderly creativity. Maybe it was the change of seasons, the change of body size, the change of direction in my creative demands, but lately there has been a heavy feeling of dread instead of joy. Best to retreat for a short minute, and find my center.

I returned to beading, something small you can hold in your hand. Something with stitch after stitch to occupy the mind without too much thinking, then something completed--beautiful and complex looking, but really familiar and soothing. I also began to clean--closets, surfaces, creative places, air out the weight of having too much stuff in sight. I can only ignore the chaos of the creative home for so long, then it begins to stifle thought and action.

I chose a project featuring two polymer clay disks made by a friend. I worked with techniques found in the book "Beading with Cabochons" by Jamie Cloud Eakin. 

I raided my bead cabinet and found all that was needed (enough raw material to make necklaces for the rest of my beading life!)

The completed pendant had a bit of a "star" turn.

Then the finished necklace went on a photo shoot which you can view in this flikr set on jewelry.

While I was gone on my Spanish adventure, a new class had begun. Something I had looked forward to all Summer, drawing from life and learning to tell stories with drawing, with the lovely Katherine Dunn: animal rescuer, farmer, storyteller, and artist extraordinaire. The class is called "Capturing the Essence" and finds inspiration in her wonderful family of barnyard personalities. If you don't yet know her work, check out her several blogs and online presence by beginning at this blog, Apifera Farm. In fact, you can still sign up for a little while yet for the online class, which will be at your disposal to work at your own pace until next summer.

We began the class by observing the animals in several poses and capturing the essence of the shape and movement through "gestural" drawings. We would overlap 2 or more gesturals by partially erasing the lines which were no longer relevant. This allows you "see" the movement.

After a series of gesturals, we would then do a more finished sketch of the animal in a single pose. This is Lucia, the donkey.

While it is intended that we work at our own pace, mine has been glacially slow. I think this is partly because, having done so well to begin, I am a bit intimidated by my own success. It makes me so happy to sit in front of the computer, watch the videos and draw with a simple conte crayon in a spiral sketch pad, that I am almost frozen with fear of moving to the next step. I don't think this had anything to do with the assignments ahead of me, it is more about my deep fear of art. I want it, I need it, but I may never fully eradicate the voice that tells me I am not good enough to have it.

Stevie, a goat crippled by neglect in a previous home, is  the subject of this gestural and the portrait sketch below. I love how he smiles at me with his wise eyes.

Having taken classes online for two years now and having had joy and success in each, I know I am capable. I know there is innate talent and I know  there is will to do, to learn, to express, to be interesting. But the fear always returns and puts on the brakes. My biggest obstacle to overcome at this moment, I think, is this need to label my efforts with a "grade". Unfortunately it is 60 years of socialization that says everything must be judged and compared to standards. Not a personal failing or obsession, but something build in to the machine. So I must keep reminding myself--I am no longer in "school". This learning environment is mine to determine the nature and rules, and I say: enjoyment should rule! Losing myself in the task should rule! And when today's play is done, put it aside with a kiss, and do some more tomorrow.

Rosie, the potbellied pig, is at the center of many of Katherine's daily farm adventures, and it was a privilege to capture her porcine beauty.

My assignment this week is to "evolve the drawing". With Katherine's guidance I will be making inroads into making a drawing something greater than a sketch and more personal than a "capture." I will be looking to express something deeper about myself and what drawing can mean for me. I'm very excited to be taking this step. 

No Time to Talk!

Excuse me! Pardon me! Comin' through! I know I haven't been around for a while, but who has time to sit and write it all down when the tables are piled high with projects and the mind is overflowing with visions of color and stitch. I know I'm supposed to be documenting my journey, but I've never been that good with keeping a diary. I'm not by nature a verbal person, more a visual one. This writing stuff takes too much effort. I totally love and admire those who can rant beautifully about the things that cross their paths. For example: Rice Freeman-Zachery at her blog "Notes From the Voodoo Cafe" comes  to mind. I love to read her rambling take on things both trivial and important. She is always insightful and amusing. But most of the time when I come to the end of a read (hers or others), I find it hard to muster the energy to leave a comment.  I follow Jude Hill's blog, Spirit Cloth, and her ongoing design whispering classes, and even though I am a known part of that community of textile lovers, I must think too hard and edit myself too much before finally leaving a bit of me on the page.

My TAST sampler pages for the five January stitches.

Learning to form shapes and fill spaces with common stitches

February has been more difficult to free form, but also more rewarding as I learn to improvise and take stitches to new places.

So the very best diary for me and the one I use almost every day is my flikr photostream. Just like a diary with stream of consciousness writing, it records where I've been and what it means to me at the moment: good and bad art, trivial and important observations about the inspiration or methods involved. A place mark to revisit my own growth, but just as importantly, to share growing steps with like minded artists of all mediums and levels of experience. Images connect with others in ways that words can't, especially when the audience is international, and that too is an amazing benefit. To meet and see the work of so many influences and feel the cultural similarities and differences. This visual diary is the real me: on the paper, the cloth, and the screen.

The portrait quilt is finally done, and I must say it came out better than expected (there was no plan, just moment by moment improv.)

Purple and green Dave is my favorite.

I have been taking a class with Sharon Boggon on the use of an artist's visual journal as both a creative diary and a workbook of ideas for future art. I have never consistently kept one before, and I am trying to learn the benefits and the habit. Since I resist writing, the studio journal is a place to tuck snippets of inspiration: photos, sketches on napkins, labels, lists, sources: whatever may be of use (or not!) down the line. There is no commitment to use anything you keep, but taking what you keep and developing it a bit further  by annotating or trying an idea in a quick study will leave behind more of what inspired the artist on later inspection. These bits of color, texture, inspirational quotes, faithfully glued and inked to the pages are left to age like fine wine. When thirsty for ideas, just uncork! I have barely begun to make this a habit, but like the art itself, I can see how meaningful it will be.

Arlee Barr's FrankenStitch class has taught me new textural additions to surface design beyond the stitches. This is a fabric "geode."

A second geode grows on this panel as the concept develops from 2D source art to part of a "Shrinebook" screen.

Buttonhole lace, stuffed, becomes a "nodule." 

Sourced from the painting, "We Drank All the Limoncino, " another panel comes to life with "nodules."

I had a recent revelation on my art journey. Something I knew inside but didn't quite acknowledge as acceptable until I recently heard Jude Hill repeat it in one of her cloth whispering sessions. That it is not necessary to have the whole concept or design the whole piece of art when you sit down to begin the making of it. I have long felt that "pre-designing" is akin to making yourself a kit, and when you begin working the kit, your mind and creativity have been left at the door. Not much different from working a kit by another artist. Granted, many of you may enjoy this sort of thing, and I don't mean to cast a broad net and say all use of other's designs is bad. But for most of us, doing that sort of work means we are not seeing all the good ideas we have inside. We decide ahead of time it is too hard to do, or that we are not good enough. What is really happening is that no one ever told us how to get the ideas out, how to make a medium our own: that we are all creative beings.

From a new sketchbook series: Starbucks Saturdays,
playing with Inktense pencils and a waterbrush to find new joy in doodling (while drinking soy lattes) on my weekly date with David.

Inspired by waterbottles in the cold case. The drips were from my new fountain pen (more about that another day.)

Trying to loosen up and draw freely feels good,
 and sometimes results in funny drawings.

I couldn't attend Carnivale in Brazil (although I know someone who did), so I just  drew with abandon.

After scanning the image, I found this samba dancer on a parade float, so I turned on a Zumba DVD and danced along!

This week in the studio journal class we are exploring design inspiration through cutouts and kaleidoscopes. I made this classic study of positive and negative spacial imagery using a photo of my own face, then inserted it into a kaleidoscope app to produce the designs on the right. How much more personal can you get than a motif created from your own profile?

I am coming to realize that the best way to find your creative voice is to start somewhere, with something that inspires, to begin the work and not worry where it will go, and just see what happens. What's the worst that could happen? You won't like it and you will start over. But from my recent class projects, I am seeing that quite often it isn't a matter of starting again, but continuing. Continuing to add, subtract, turn it around, see it with new eyes, be open to what is going on, both on the surface of the paper or cloth, and what is going on beneath, in you heart and mind. Keep on doing, everything is ultimately connected to the "you" inside. Finding your own voice is easy when you turn down the volume on what others say and do, and listen to what really inspires you.