not another 12 years

i’m a risk taker. i can handle volatility. i can survive the worst-case scenario. i was laid off five weeks ago. thank God. i am finally creating, experimenting, and saying yes to new ideas. and my little back yard garden is about to birth 16 zucchini, 32 cucumbers, and 68 radishes, thank you very much.

i’m also listening to the book the start up of you on my long rides to stockbridge, ma this summer…oh, did i not mention? one of my personal cheerleaders, dyan, offered me a summer gig a couple days a week watching over the most gorgeous view in the berkshires! anyway, the book…this chapter on risk really validated what i already know about myself as a risk taker. this is not the time for me to play things safe - this is the opportunity i've been waiting for.

meanwhile, the dots in this drawing…hole punched from tracing paper i covered with large swatches and swirlies of washable paint while teaching a preschool art class long ago. inspiration just waiting around 12 years for me to have time to follow through - sinful. so one more time...thank god, with an extra amen and halleluyah! as risky as it may be, i get to be an artist again.

Spiral with Green, ink pen, paint, glue, 11" x 11" © 2014

it's been a year but i've stayed on task. see last post. now i have a studio with a couch in it instead of a living room with a drawing table in it. next up: draw and figure out how to print drawings. so y'all can start buyin' some lovely artwork. here's the first official pics of my dog in my studio.

mAx in sTuDiO, 2014

my mind is not on much except figuring out what to do next. i've read that when a person makes the effort to set up a dedicated space to make art - a.k.a set up a studio - then they are ready to take themselves seriously as an artist. that's really the move i have to make. find a dedicated space in my teeny tiny house? where no one will dump their socks, spill coffee, or walk on my drawings? well, someone will probably always walk on my drawings but i know its what i have to do.

Flame, ink, pen, watercolor, 2012

 Flora II, ink, pen, watercolor, 2012

i never really learned how to work with brushes the same way i learned how to draw. controlling a pen has always been easy. controlling a brush makes me feel like i can't breath. but i'm determined to start adding color to my drawings and, in the name of challenging myself to grow as an artist, watercolor is my first choice. before i start dipping my fingers directly into the paint (and i know i will try that at some point) i'm giving the brush a try.

Flora (1), Fauna (2), and Fairy (3), ink, pen, watercolor, paint, 2012

         

 

 

barbara

this is not my drawing. it belongs to barbara hirshfield who died in september. i stop at a lot of estate sales and there are often old art supplies and some artwork. but barbara's house had many piles of sketches, chipped paintings leaning against walls, and this one...i found with a few others in a mostly unused pad of paper that i ended up buying for a few cents.

 

barbara did not seem to be a great artist but she sketched and painted and was proud enough to frame her own work. i left the large portraits and the tiny paintings of cape cod. but this one - which reminded me of a drawing i did as a child (i promise to post it later) - got me thinking. i googled barbara hoping she might have been an art teacher or a senior center painting instructor at least. i found her obituary and there was not one mention of her as an artist. "she was an extremely family oriented person" it said, and a "long-time member of the local country club". i pause at this point of the story every time and my heart breaks. so i post this picture to let you all know about barbara because i don't want to think about what happened to all that artwork after the estate sale, those hours of enjoyment and effort, the sketching and experimenting, the tools and materials. i wonder if she feared wasting paper the same as i do.

and by the way, i stole this cat photo out of one of her frames. it's a gorgeous snapshot and i couldn't stand the idea of it forever disappearing. bad enough to lose the artwork...i'd hate to lose the inspiration.

looking back through some of the work i've done in recent years. never fails to tell me a story and inform my next steps. since i'm spending my time right now working through ideas for the next phase of my work, looking back never fails to remind me of some interesting ideas that need to be revisited. here's some pages from a sketchbook project i participated in last year: "& In One Another".

Sketchbook, pen, marker, ink, waterolor, silver paint, collage, 2010

i'm now refering to this little sketchbook as my dictionary - a collection of visual language - as i suppose all sketchbooks truly are. feeling more productive than i have time for, which is both the rose and the thorn in my life right now. hoping to make some leaps, though, in the coming months. more to come.

Sketch, pen, 2011

Sketch, pen, 2011





i am surprisingly impressed with myself. i went through a stash of drawings the other day and it seems i've produced quite a bit of interesting work these last few years. hard to keep track of without a dedicated work space and lots of random portfolios and sketchbooks. one thing i've always liked about being an artist is the way the work tells a story, especially over time. once i learned that, i learned to love process and trust instinct. i'm experimenting with some new ideas and i love the freedom of working with a perfectly fine point pen on paper. i know i'm happy when the first thing i want to see in the morning is the drawing i did the night before.

Sketches, pen, 2011

Untitled doily, pen, 2010

please excuse the imperfect scan. and while you're at it, please excuse the imperfect life. there. i said it. i'm hanging out in 'retirement village' this week where the only ambition is in a hot cup of coffee on the lanai. lovely, but the contrast to my reality really made me toss and turn last night. i must be nuts. or ambitious. today's magic: working on capturing the light and pattern i see in the palm fronds (images to follow when i return to my scanner).

respect the inspiration

Untitled nest, pen, 2011

i always notice birds on a wire. especially driving on major highways because the surroundings are sparse and the line of the wire is crisp in front of the gray of the sky. i follow that line and then the most precise dot appears. sometimes, there are multiple dots. then, i wonder why birds sit so evenly spaced along the wire. and i'm never interested in knowing the true answer. today's magic: understanding that asking questions promotes having to hear answers. sometimes, answers kill the moment.

starting to wonder what i'm getting at here. what do i mean by 'magic'? i don't think it's truly about creating magical moments. its about art, inspiration. and follow-through. i've been missing the follow-through. thought i was satisfied for the time being just noticing the world around me. 'i am an artist,' i would say, 'most importantly, its a way of seeing the world. that's enough to hold me over while i take care of business.' meanwhile, ignoring the subtle pain, dare i say suffering, of disrespecting the inspiration. so subtle i only know it by the dull pressure in my gut most days. see birds-on-wire, draw birds-on-wire. better to follow-through than to be reminded of not respecting the inspiration every time i drive by a bird on the wire.

Untitled weed, pen, 2011

stitch witchery

Untitled, thread, dye-painted organza, 2011

its a tough winter, but then i think of laura ingalls, and world events, and it puts it all in perspective. i'm revisiting some grad school ideas, and supplies, searching for my way back to an inspired and fearlessly creative life. today's magic: have sewing machine, favorite thread, painted organza that's been waiting ten years to be worked...will create.  

not so sketchy

Sketch Vertical, pen, 2011

black line. because i've been doing it all my life. i used to trace my coloring book pages in black marker before coloring in the shapes. i like contrast. i like tone, and gradation. it's my foundation. today's magic: cherishing the child's instincts.

update: turning the dreaded icicles into ice sculpture. following the child's instincts.

and 1 and 2 and...

Wait, pen, 2011

ok. now its getting personal. snow = ice dams on my roof = water in the house = guys coming to remove ice on monday. amazing what a phone call to a lovely homeowner's insurance rep can do for one's emotional state. and draw it out, and 3 and 4 and... today's magic: focus on action. i'm really good at process.

oh, thank god

Everyone Has One, pen, 2010

day 14 from "& In One Another" 60 day drawing project

today i woke up excited. i have creative thoughts. ideas for the work. doesn't take much i've learned. just pen to paper, a little research, pen to paper again, so on. accepting the process. actually, loving the process. i'm paying student loans for life for that knowledge. priceless. today's magic: feelin' the scale tip towards the thrill of the draw. can't wait to sit down with it tonight.

workin' it still

Hole in the Head 2, pen, 2006

you would not believe this day. i worked it. 7:15am. no complaints. but with every g*d%mn shovelful i couldn't stop thinking about how much single motherhood has taught me about myself, more than any other endeavor i could imagine. and if there's anything i haven't fully learned yet, it's certainly on my to do list. today's magic: the beauty of the snow despite its get-in-the-way-break-my-back-kinda-way-of showing-up-at-the-worst-times AND Peter Gabriel/In Your Eyes, Rolling Stones/Beast of Burden, Bob Dylan/Like a Rolling Stone, REM/Man on the Moon, and yes i love Marc Cohn/Walking in Memphis...all on the radio for the morning commute. 

Sketch, hole punched magazine circles, 2010

taking time to enjoy the snow with some sledding. i wish it wasn't so cold - i could've used a few more runs to really loosen up. today's magic: screaming out loud while spinning down the hill.