. . . tickled myself silly

Yep, I'm pretty pleased with myself. First of all, my camera is working again and I'm actually posting something on this blog. I have been enjoying all these other wonderful blogs and photos and paintings that everyone else has created, and contributing absolutely nothing. But here are some offerings. . .





These are all approximately 5"x7" monoprints from bigger paintings that I have been doing, on some linen-like paper no longer in use from the office. These monoprints tend to accumulate in various stages of completion, while I just keep layering stuff, until one or two finally look like they might be done. Everything about these is spontaneous, completely accidental. Doesn't say too much about my talent, does it?






These three combine all kinds of techniques I've been trying out recently. There is, of course, a bunch of acrylic paint. But there is also some of the deconstructed screen printing here, as well as using some of the thickened dye past without the screens. And lastly, just because I could, I dipped these in some encaustic medium. The backgrounds where there is no paint or dye are beautifully translucent, but I can't figure out how to display them so that's noticeable. Right now I just have black mats around them, which is okay, but they need to have light shining through them.





Two other accomplishments: (1) I got my Ipod working again, and all the songs on the Ipod downloaded back into the computer. I was afraid that when my playlist disappeared from the computer, all the songs I had dowloaded were lost. But no, it's so easy to get them back that I'm embarrassed that I hesitate as long as I did. (2) I went back to the old house and dug up a bunch of perennials and brought them back to this house. So yesterday I got them all planted. Mostly hostas and daylilies, which should be fine. And I planted the little blue pot above, too. Today I am starting another canvas, and I'm going to plant another two big pots, and then I'm done until I amass enough money to buy more. . .


Hope everyone has a happy Mother's Day.

. . . dreamed about projects

Literally I have been having dreams, snippets of insight, flashes of inspiration, about a project that I've been thinking about. The things I want to include are absolutely MIXED media, everything from oatmeal (the color and the texture) to rusted paper to drywall compound, to canvas, scrim, burlap, threads, twine, newspaper, paper clay, papier mache. . . I have a notebook with four pages devoted to lists of things I want to include in this. . . project. . . thing. . . assemblage. Layers, digging through, tactile. . . all tones of natural, from white to ecru to beige to gray to black to rust, but all totally natural, in that it comes from a natural process, even if you have to fake it. painted corrugated cardboard, weathered cardboard, dangling things, rolled paper, rolls of used adding machine tape, dipped in wax, burned with an incense stick (by the way, I have rediscovered incense. . . it's way cool to smell if you don't use it in a tiny enclosed area) to created rows of little holes. . . and of course I have been collecting pictures, going through all my old photos, taking new ones, looking at everything with a new eye. . . an artist's eye. I can't wait to get started. But first, I must go get my hair fixed. Honestly, first time in a looooong time. I will be newly blonde when I start my project. Oh, that's a good color. . . blonde.

were absolutely terrified

(Terrific trash heap, don't you think?)


Not long ago I listened to an interview of a famous photographer who was, on occasion, terrified when she went into her darkroom/studio. She was afraid it would be the last time she would create anything.



(Another trash heap, this one created by me)


I, too, am terrified. I'm terrified that I have already created the last thing I'll ever create that worth anything,




(All these collages are old, hidden away on my computer)


and I didn't realize it at the time.




(Because I haven't created anything for a while)

I am not necessarily thinking about anything sellable, just something that will satisfy me. The talent I see on the internet is staggering. Overwhelming. Creativity gone wild. Besides, Target and Home Goods sell perfectly agreeable art at prices that even I could afford (well, maybe not that cheap) so why would anyone buy my art.




(So I'm whining about it now)

And the fact remains, I haven't created anything good enough in months. I am reluctant to go down to the studio: it's too cold down there, it's too dark, it's a mess and I can't find anything I need because it's all packed up and I don't want to unpack because what if I have to move again and then I would have to pack it all up again. Oh, I have every excuse. . . yet I know the real reason. I'm afraid I won't be able to do it any more.

I've been through something like this before, many times even. I know something will happen that will see me through but I also know I need to keep working, making crap until I don't make crap any more. And I can't do that unless I go downstairs. Maybe that rodent of Betsy's and Joe's, whether human or animal, has something to do with my ennui. Perhaps it's time to banish that rodent. (Latest clue in rodent identification and entrapment: a chicken bone on the living room rug.)

. . . Betsy came over

Since Monday was a holiday for both Betsy and me, we spent the day together. Betsy and Joe are convinced that my new house is either haunted or has been invaded by a mysterious "rodent, either human or animal" (per Betsy; and yes, I have known human rodents) and since the idea of a haunted house gives them nightmares, they have decided to detect and rid me of my rodent.





So when Betsy came to my house on Monday, she had an old-fashioned makeup case stuffed with things she would need to detect the rodent: a digital camera (kiddy-style); notebooks, pens, penlight; etc. She took pictures of anything that looked suspicious: tracks, the doggie door in the basement, the mysterious hose that turned itself on and spewed water all over the back yard, the puddle of water on the basement floor (because, "you know, Nana, not all urine is yellow." I don't want to know how she knows that.)





When she could reach no logical conclusion as to what was creeping around my house, she decided she wanted to "screen paint" and screen paint she did. Then she really got into using different things around the basement to make textures. When she wasn't painting, eating at Burger King, or picking out 20 books for me to buy her so she could give them to her teacher (which didn't happen), she was writing a book for Joey on the computer. What a kid.






When we got back to Betsy's house, Joe was very excited. In his art class that day, he had made me a rodent trap. Actually, he really did a very good job for the 3-year-old. You could tell he had put some thought into it. It was a paper trap with three sides, like an A-frame house, with the back fixed in place and a flap on the front for the rodent to enter. It was taped up securely. He was so proud and I was very impressed. He has a career in architecture or pest control in his future.

Remember always to play like little kids at the serious business of making art.

. . . voluntarily went outside

Not just voluntarily, either, but eagerly. The temperature reached the 70s this week, and off I went on my lunch (1/2)hour with my camera. Not surprisingly, within a few blocks of where I work, I stumbled upon a building that had either fallen down or was in the process of being torn down. These pictures are from that place. I know, the one above is a bit weird, but that's probably why it appeals to me. I like the upper gray-white background with the orange bits.






My usual method of taking picture during lunch is definitely point, shoot, and get the hell out of there, which kind of limits what I'm left to deal with when it comes to editing the pictures. Many times I've wished I would have taken more time to actually study up close what I'm shooting. Like above, I don't know that the stones are necessary to the picture, but I kind of like the red stuff, which I truly hope is paint.






And here, I don't really like my crop, now that I see it here. Possibly this should be two separate pieces.






Love the natural crackled surface and the colors on this one. I think you can click on all of these and get bigger photos.






Okay, this one was taken in the parking lot across which I walk every day. And it was very very cold that day. And this is a puddle of ice. With a piece of chewing gum in it. I did not take this on the wonderfully spring-like day last week. I actually stopped on my way in to work and just pulled out the camera and shot this when the temps were probably below zero. And this one definitely needs cropping and editing. But don't you love the gum?


Long weekend for me; a benefit of working at a bank. Hope with me that I can get that painting done. It's calling my name. . . .

. . . gave my heart

I generally despise these made-up commercialized semi-holidays that do nothing but make people spend a lot of money on a lot of nonsense. A bit of advice to the lovelorn: make everyday Valentine's day. Having said that, I will climb down from my soapbox, and on the way down, I will have an attitude adjustment.


This is a photo I posted on this blog a couple of years ago. I had been working on some monoprints and Betsy and Joe had left these red plastic cupcake molds around the house. The two just seemed to fit together. . .


I had the best week. . . started some art but didn't finish anything and have nothing yet to show for my farting around, as Leslie Avon Miller would put it. I took some photocopies of some of my unfinished stuff and hung them up around my cubicle at work. Now I can look at these and try to figure out how to improve or complete them as I work on taxes or CD interest or talk on the phone. Sometimes the best ideas sneak up when I'm thinking peripherally.


Hugs and kisses x o x o x o blah blah blah . . . oops, bad attitude.

. . .added to 10,000

Have you all read or heard of Malcolm Gladwell's theory that being an expert at something takes a lot of work. . . his estimate is 10,000 hours. Well, this week's work did nothing but add to that total.






I have tried on this blog to post everything I create, whether I believe it to be good, bad, indifferent. I learn something from everything I make, and sometimes I learn that it's just not good enough. I figure anyone reading this blog could also learn from my mistakes or misbegotten efforts.






Which exactly is how I feel about these small pieces. I also learned that there is not one good place in this house to take good photographs, although it would help to have good subject matter.






I wouldn't say I was completely cured of my recent obsession with deconstructed screen printing. It's a ton of fun. And I learned from that process, too, which was the whole point. I certainly was never going to give up painting for screen printing. I wanted to figure out how to apply some of the screen printing technique to what I do. I also had a chance to unpack and re-evaluate and appreciate again some of the things I use to make texture and pattern.

We had snow this week. . . a lot. I spent a bunch of time shoveling, missed a day of work, froze my ass off down in the basement, but I am getting back in the swing of this art making business. Have a great week, everyone. Make more art.