. . .took artsy pictures

but just a few . . . it was a very nice but windy day in Kansas yesterday, as the babies and I went south to visit family. We all took a walk after lunch, then went to the Post Office and the library.





Here's Joey, perched on a cool rusty thing of some sort,




and here's Betsy carrying the mail for us.


The fastest way to get to my hometown is to go south on I-35, which I think is an interstate highway that extends from the Mexican border to the Canadian border, so it's a pretty busy road with lots of truck traffic. For the last twenty years or so, we have been watching a place on the west side of that highway just inside Miami County . . . it's a salvage yard that has been growing steadily, said to have reached 20 acres now. There are no fences around it, and it is full of buses, semis, and tons of other equipment, no cars, all beautifully rusted out. About a year ago, we got off the interstate and found the place, but it was marked with "no trespassing" signs (which wouldn't necessarily stop me) and the ground was so wet and muddy that I couldn't get very far into the place. I heard on the local news that authorities reached an agreement with the owner last week to have the salvage yard dismantled and removed. While it is definitely an eyesore, I regret that it won't be there much longer. I need to get out there and take some pictures before it's gone forever.

. . . hit the road

to visit my mom and mother-in-law, and I'm taking Betsy and Joey with me. Betsy is thrilled at the prospect, and is packing a bag, although we will only be there a few hours. She wants to eat at Wendy's, and she can't imagine there could be a town in which a Wendy's does not exist. I'm not sure Joe knows what's going on, but he's along for the ride. When Joe was here the other day, he kept going to the computer and saying "Han tana." At first I thought he was saying "Auntie Anna" but then I figured out he was saying "Hannah Montana", because that's what Betsy always watches on the computer when she's here. He tries so hard to keep up with his big sister. His mother is dismayed.

I got some new canvas, refreshed the paint supply, prepped a 36 x 48 piece, and started painting the layers. But I'm stuck now. And yes, it's got red in it. Maybe taking this day off from art will help me figure it out. I'm hoping that my brother will be around and he will take me to my favorite metal recycling place in my home town and I'll get some photographs that maybe will inspire me.


I still need choices and address for some folks who wanted a collage, namely Jazz, Jeane and Martin. I think almost everyone got the collage they requested. And I discovered I had lost some of them, too, and that I had not posted a few others.

. . .fixed the canvas

I was pretty worried about my ability to repair the chips in one corner of the canvas that had been returned. After my disasterous day spent with a totally screwed-up canvas that I could not rehabilitate, I figured there was potential for complete destruction. Then Joey came to spend part of the day with me, and I put everything on hold to play with him. After he left, it was time to work on the canvas. I dislodged all the pieces that I could, then sanded very lightly and applied gesso. Then, being very cautious, I actually waited until that had dried. I gathered my paint choices and very carefully dabbed layers with my finger, waiting for each to dry. It was nerve-wracking, but it worked. No one could possibly tell I made that small repair. This is the first time I have had to do this. I feel a bit more capable now.


Playing around on Twitter the other day, I came across an artist who is using her art to perform random acts of art, kind of like random acts of kindness. She arranges to leave small pieces of art in public places and asks only that the finder contact her by email to tell her where the art was found. I cannot find that site back. I emailed her at the address provided, but it was bounced back to me. I'm thinking that this is both a great marketing tool as well as a nice thing to do. . . I can think of all kinds of places to leave a little art that would make anyone's day a bit brighter. . . how about the courthouse? Or a dentist's office? Or the grocery store check-out line. I once found a pass-along book on the edge of a McDonald's pick-up window. So I'm going to do this, too. I'm going to use the little collages I've been making lately.


If you can think of any good places to leave these little collages, please leave a comment. I'm also going to leave them in places that have art traffic, too, like the Plaza or the Crossroads District here in Kansas City. I'm going to give a few to my nieces and nephews who are in college in various cities and have them make a drop, too. Another thought I've had is to get a sponsor who will pay like $10 for my art supplies and in return I will add a coupon or some incentive for the finder of the art to visit the store that is sponsoring me. I hope this isn't too slimy, marketing my art in this manner. Tell me what you think.

. . . scrapped a canvas

Yesteray was not a very successful day in the studio. I was going to write that it had not been a very good day in the studio, but any day to make art is a good day, even if not completely successful. I don't remember a time that I have actually had to completely scrap an entire canvas, at least not while I was trying to paint it. Usually even if the painting is complete crap, I will stick with it until something emerges from the mess, whether good or bad. But yesterday, the gods of glue were not watching over me.


Despite all my experimentation, (or maybe because of it) I have decided to stick to the "good stuff" for my paintings: that is, artist quality paints, medium, gels, etc. So I probably can't blame the product. Nothing, but nothing, seemed to want to stay on that canvas. Layers of paint, washes, paper, nothing. Everything kept bubbling up. And the more I tried to fix it, the worse the whole thing got. I tried sanding, which had a really cool effect, but didn't actually help anything. I reapply gesso; I scraped stuff off, I put stuff on. I made a huge mess. And finally, I gave up, rolled up the canvas, and dumped it in the trashbag. I will probably check on it later today in the hopes that something amazing happened overnight. Like maybe the art fairies came while I slept and created a masterpiece.


I was given advance warning that one of my canvases was headed back here for a touch-up. I was worried about it, wondering just how bad the damage was and whether I could fix it. The canvas came yesterday. The Fed Ex guy had a hard time finding my house. That's because all the house numers fell off and broke last summer (they were ceramic tiles put up by previous owners) and I haven't put the new ones back up yet. In some ways, it's a good thing not to be able to be found. Anyway, that tube sat there in the hall for the rest of the afternoon, unopened. Finally, after the fiasco of the nonstarter canvas, I thought, what the hell, it can't get worse. I opened the tube. There is a tiny little chip in the paint in the bottom left corner. Easily fixable. That's what I'll do today. Please let the gods of fixing canvas be with me today so that I don't screw it up.

. . . discovered an artist

in the pages of the January/February Metropolitan Home magzine. This home is a complete redo of a place in Seattle. The above scan of a page of the article shows the interesting contrast between two very contemporary abstract paintings and the extremely ornate gilt mirror. Of course, the paintings caught my eye. And this is a magazine that names of the artists. The green (not red, see yesterday's post) painting on the left is by Angelina Nasso and the painting on the right is by T. L. Lange. I like both, but the Lange really appealed to me.






So when I saw this painting a few pages later, I was happy to find out that T. L. Lange had painted it, too. The caption for this photo reads in part "In the living room, a. T. L. Lange painting echoes the colors in the African mask. . ." Loved the colors, and it's just wacky enough to be intriguing.


This home is filled with serious contemporary art. . . serious in quantity, anyway. It's a very cool space. I wanted to see more of T. L. Lange's work, so I googled him and sure enough, here's the definitive site, a gallery that shows a bunch of it, as well as more work by other interesting artists.


Article produced by Linda O'Keeffe and Linda Humphrey; photographs by John Granen; writte by Fred Albert.

. . . realized I'm old

Here's the gist of a conversation my daughter had with her daughter, Betsy: "Mommy, what did Nana look like before she was old?" "She had long blond hair that she put in a bun sometimes and she wore dresses and high heels." "Why doesn't she still wear high heels?" "I don't know." "I do, because she doesn't have any. I know, I've been in her closet and I've never seen any."


That first sentence just put a dart in my heart. . . no, make that a spear, a javelin, a harpoon. I'm sure that to a four-year-old, I am as old as the world. But I don't feel old. I try not to look OLD, just appropriate to my age. I have never considered my age to be a defining characteristic. Both my kids thought that comment was just the funnniest. . . just wait, you guys, your turn is coming.


And, Betsy, let me tell you, the glam look these days isn't high heels worn with paint-stained sweat pants. I suspect that Betsy has been snooping around the closet looking for dress-up clothes and high heels. She just didn't look in the right place. There is an entire wall of shoeboxes filled with high heels left over from my working days, as well as a whole room full of work clothes. I guess I kept all that stuff because I suspected I would need them again. Wise move on my part, under the circumstances, although most of the stuff is seriously out of date.


And speaking of old, the collage above was inspired by a photo of an old paint-splattered piece of equipment. . . hey, wait a minute, that could describe me.

. . . finished a painting

as well as this collage. I'm liking this little collage; it looks great in the double-matted black square frame that I use to test the look of these collages. Once again, it was inspired by an old wall.


Walt, my art rep, called to tell me that he needed large paintings in jewel tones, especially paintings that include the color red, but not the red-orange that I usually like to use, just red. I can do that; in fact, I did that. My camera is currently indisposed (that pesky little battery issue) but I will post a photo of the finished painting one of these days.


Maybe it's human nature, but sometimes when I'm told to paint something in certain colors, I blank out, lose any semblence of creativity, want to rebel and say, NO, I want to paint yellow, orange and turquoise. That's why I can't do commissions. But I think I have hit upon a solution. I will paint those jewel tones to keep selling art, and make these little collages that please me so much and not worry too much about what happens to them. Am I a sell-out? Well, I guess the key word would be "sell". . . it's now a necessity.