Water Inspires Art

I just spent some time at the gorgeous website of a talented and prolific artist, Mary Edna Fraser, who creates batiks from a aerial photographs she takes from the window of her family's plane. Most of the subjects are rivers and waterways in outrageous colors.     

My friend Martha League-Calhoun also makes paintings featuring water, especially the creeks and streams around West Austin that feed Lake Travis.

So what is it about water? As we were driving south from Omaha to Kansas City, before we were forced to take a detour from Interstate 29  because of the flooding, we saw evidence of the heavy rains in the midwest. Even though you couldn't see much from the road, every glimpse through trees and grass glinted with the reflection of sun on water. Although the crops were ruined, the water attracted wildlife and waterfowl where before there were none. Nature, ever abundantly opportunistic, moved into farm territory with sudden vitality.

Floods, tsunamis, heavy rainfall, rivers, deltas,and oceans all have a mesmerizing and impressive energy. Even when water's effects are damaging to human life and property, it's impossible not to be awestruck by water's power and life.

Some say someday humans will wage wars over water. I hope we can do better than that. Humanity sure does have enough on its plate already these days. But if it ever happens, imagine the art we will make.

The drought in Texas is severe. I'm not sure if the scarcity of water here makes it more achingly beautiful in my eyes, but the thought of having to fight for the right to water tinges that beauty with something a little sinister.

Sending up a prayer for water...

New Construction Inspires A New Wool House

We have a new neighbor building a house across the street from us. After one or two false starts over the years by previous owners of this challenging lot, Tom finally got it right. Our neighborhood has building guidelines which include a 100-ft easement from the street because our lots are large and everyone likes the country feel (even if we are 30 minutes from downtown). The lot across the street is tough; approximately level from the street to about 75 feet back, then a good drop-off. That's "hill country" for you. My hat is off to our good new neighbor Tom, who designed a lovely home happily nestled into the hillside, while amicably facing our direction. I'm delighted with the new addition to our little hood. It is even an improvement over the cedar-clogged view we used to have!

Maybe that's why I was inspired over Thanksgiving break to finish this little wool house that I've had constructed but unadorned in my sewing room for months. If I thought it were Tom's style I'd give it to him in a heartbeat. But clearly it's not! I think I'll put it over at Martha's League Studio Gallery and see if she can sell it at her open house this weekend.

Now we need to think about decking our own halls for Christmas!

Another Bird in Flight

Long ago, I signed up for an inkjet transfer group with Yahoo Groups. At the time I believe it was moderated by Lesley Riley who has used transfers a lot in her fibert art and whose class I took many years ago. Every now and then I get an email from Yahoo with some new pics. This is one I like by someone who frequently posts pics in an album called Marianne K's transfers. A bird in flight; get it? This artist's work is beautiful...even the thumbnails I receive in emails are usually enticing enough for me to open them. I don't know who she or he is because her profile is private, but I always enjoy looking!

On that note, I think about all the stuff I have here on the internet. At some point I just decided, heck, if I tell the truth and use some discretion, then I don't mind sharing online. Since then, I've shared a lot of thoughts and opinions, some of it conflicting, but that's how it is! An open book many times, I still keep a lot to myself. I do understand why someone would like to post pictures of art, but no personal info, like that Yahoo gal/guy. The art, which seems personal, stands on its own. No identifier needed.

Patience or Mania?

What does it take to stitch a photo like this?

Jill Draper, whose photo-realistic stitched tapestries I viewed with awe on telegraph.co.uk, says that she stitches on her machine at such a manic pace that she gets headaches. She works on a few square inches at a time, carefully following a photograph. Then she hand stitches final details.

I believe that it takes a great reserve of patience to even undertake such a project, but I can understand the crazy manic type of work required to make headway with such small details. It's a mind-boggling process, to work on something so large in scale compared to the infinitesimal gestures needed to complete even a small portion of it. A few years ago I hand stitched a self portrait with DMC embroidery threads and was astonished at the speed required to keep my mind in the game. On top of that there is the mental concentration involved in keeping track of the slight variations in color needed to shade and add contours to the image.

That type of work, I imagine (I have never done work like that on a machine) has to be something like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time -- times one hundred. While you furiously stitch with eyes focused and bright light shining on such a tiny section of the embroidered painting, you are trying to fly over the whole scene from high above with a part of your mind that can envision the end result. That has to be a mind bender!

Kudos to this Jill Draper. She is 62 years old. I hope my brain is as able to round up the intricacies required by my craft in 20 years!

The Aesthetics of Joy Blog

I read a blog called the Aesthetics of Joy, by Ingrid Fetell. Great stuff. Here is a video she talks about in one of her recent blog posts. It will eventually be a book, which I hope to buy, but for now I enjoy reading her ongoing revelations. She's kind of brainy, and uses BIG WORDS, in an art historian kind of way, and she is delightful.

Do you ever see something that just makes your heart sing? She is studying the common, quirky, unexpected things that for whatever rhyme or reason make us smile (or gasp, or blink, or gape in a good way). Think dancing, wildflowers, toys, bright pink dyed hair...

She also looks at the large sweeping artistic monuments and gestures which transport us, as the artist or architect (or God) intends them to. Think cathedrals, the Grand Canyon...

Fetell asks tough questions, too. I remember one blog post (featuring a picture of Charles Manson) pondering if evil-doers feel joy when they commit their atrocities, and if that could rightly be called "joy?" Ick.

I like to read about art, but sometimes art history seems a little pedantic. That's why I like this take on design and "joy." The subject matter itself is light-hearted, but down-to-earth, even while the discussion of it is at times challenging. Anyway, Aesthetics of Joy is worth checking out.

By the way, I like Sr. Wendy, too, but I've never read any discussions about street art from her...only classical art. Contrasting Ingrid Fetell to Sr. Wendy automatically comes to mind because while Sr. Wendy exudes her appreciation and love of the art she describes, the joy Ms. Fetell writes about seems to be somehow missing from her poin of view. An academic approach to what makes humans feel joyful is a very interesting topic indeed when written in an objective and discerning voice, which is how Aesthetics reads. She is certainly passionate about her subject, though; that comes through. When you think about it, it's a tough subject.

Most of the other art/design blogs I read are all breathless with love, love, love for their artistic discoveries; a whole lotta sugar, which I don't seem to naturally possess. That is why I read them, probably. I am a voyeur of "pretty" things, but the stuff that really brings me joy are tinged with something a bit wry at the end of the day. I laugh at the wrong places in movies, too, a personal characteristic which is only now at this late age beginning to embarrass me.

Historians and students who love art, design, or craft -- and can write well about it -- are precious.

Be-Dazzling the Piano (and other serious concerns)

The piano, this morning...No, I didn't do it (husband would put me in an institution), but I wanted to!

While watching Twilight with the kids last night I started an article for a scrapbooking website I periodically work for. In the midst of hunting around online for creative fodder, I found myself inside some great websites I haven't visited in awhile: Flickr, some paper arts sites, art blogs, etc. The process of writing the article while watching the movie got me thinking about a few issues closer to home:

1. Would my favorite opaque white gel pen ink take to the piano's glossy finish? How many barrels of plastic red monkeys would it take to cover the piano? Has my favorite gel pen dried out since I last used it?
2. Wonder when I'll be getting my next art quilt block for the round robin I'm involved with? (It's the only creative project I have going, and it seems to be slow-going, unfortunately.)
3. When the movie's over I'm going to have to put in my two cents worth with my kids regarding not only Team Jacob/Team Edward (gotta go with Jacob), but also on the soul belonging, finally, to God -- not theirs or anyone else's for the selling and/or trading. I know, I'm the one who agreed to the PG-13 movie, and now I will pay.
   

Of course at least the two older kids will roll their eyes and say how it's just a movie, and it's not real, and "Mom, why can't you just have fun and not be so serious about stuff," etc. My response being, "Who me? I'm the mom who would glue monkeys to the piano, if the family would let me...Who's serious?" But by then, I'll have already put the stick in the mud.

I wonder if anyone can relate? We moms think we're pretty fun, don't we? I know for a fact that kids broaden my sense of humor, which must mean necessarily that I have lost some sort of edge. Any world sophistication drops way off when I listen to middle schoolers talking away in the back seat of the van, oblivious to mom ears. It amazes me, by the way, that they don't realize that the chauffeur is listening (at least some of the time). And sometimes, it's actually entertaining. When I jump in with a bit of my own, the car goes silent for a beat. Then one of them says, "yeah, mom." and like a switch, the conversation magicaly enlivens again.

I watch movies like Twilight and make jokes about Jacob's chronic shirtlessness (kids go "sshhh!") and I realize that mom-funny is a lonely kind of funny, because the regular audience is always 30 years younger and they don't appreciate the jokes. They also take these types of movies very seriously. In any case, while I'm cracking fun at vampires (no one says "cracking fun;" I do realize this), I'm also mourning the loss of my creative outlets, which is my own fault completely, and thinking about how and when I'm going to volunteer my parental obligatory comments about some of the behaviors and themes in this silly movie.

There are the easy ones, interjected briefly: "You DO know never to get on a motorcycle with a stranger. In fact, don't get on a motorcycle, period." Then there are the ones that hopefully cause a little healthy mental interruption: " Maybe Bella should volunteer at an old folks' home or something."

Still, at the end of the movie, there are those remaining open-ended ideas that take more time, gentle revisiting over the course of a few days, like the soul stuff. One more thing to squeeze into a busy day, but crucial. I make a mental note: Don't make a huge discussion out of it, just turn the idea over a time or two.

My kids are coming into the age where I can't shelter them from stuff I disagree with. Nor the stuff I don't believe in. I don't want to, either. I'm not anti-supernatural, or prudish about monsters and magic and but Whew, pop culture keeps me on my toes!

And all I wanted to do last night was kick back, watch a teen movie, look at art blogs online, and imagine monkeys and crystals encrusting the piano...

Getting ready

The top picture is Willie and his/our neighbor friend. (Her dad was sitting right next to me on the porch as I took this picture.) Willie and she have been good friends forever. Tonight they aregued about who "dumped" who (isn't that ridiculous?), then tried shooting an aluminum can with the slingshot. (We all tried and missed.) Then we had popsicles.

Meanwhile Katie was in my studio looking for cool stuff for me to pack to ArtFiberFest. There's a ton of great junk in here. When Katie is bored she explores my studio; tonight she had a purpose for looking, so I think she had even more fun.

I'm feeling a strong push/pull in energy these days. I think for my house project I am going to make a house in shadow and the other half in light. For the topsy turvy doll I am going to make a red hot devil and a pretty-in-pink angel. That should do it.

If you believe in the power of prayer, I know a family who needs yours tonight. I put forth a special intention -- and thanks!

Prayers for my country

Freedom, the most precious gift I ever received from my country; and I never had to do anything special to acquire it! I pray that my children will not have tasted freedom just to lose it. I would almost rather they had never known it than to have to answer to them someday why we let it slip away from us.

Regardless of how this election day ends, I can't help feeling deeply sad that the next generation will have to fight (like I never had to) for their liberty.

God has His arms around us, though. I am certain that He only wants us to come to know Him and His creation. From the beginning, God gave us freedom...and we don't need anyone else to either prove or disprove this fact. In the end, politics are not important, except in the way they reveal our character and our choices. No matter who we vote for, we are all on the hook for the outcome.

God Bless the USA.

New Sketchbook Covers

Just playing with fabrics and decided to make a few of these sketchbook and journal covers. I like how they look before the flaps are stitched down (like the green one at top). They're like mini quilts. One of these days I'll go ahead and make a quilt just to look at, but until then they're book covers. I've covered all my books (date books, address books, journals, sketchbooks).

What does it say about me that I have to make something functional all the time? I think it's a result of my effort to simplify/get rid of stuff I don't need/ clear out the superfluous decorative stuff around here to calm my head. I figure if we just make the stuff we use pretty then we won't need to fill up the house with all the extra stuff. If it's just hanging on the wall or sitting on my window sill then I'm breaking the rules. That doesn't sound like an artist talking, does it?

You should see my studio, full of dolls, doll parts, and all kinds of funny little arty things. My kids are all super creative and their toys and artwork are everywhere. My husband also has hobbies galore, music, electronics, etc. His studio is as full as mine (but no color -- all black and gray and chrome. I keep trying to sneak some art in).

I still maintain that I could live in a simple one room space with a bed, a desk, a window. I really don't need all this decoration and chaos and activity. I could very well be wrong about that, my little fantasy about being a contemplative nun somewhere. But I hope to find a happy medium. I'm watching my parents and older (on the verge of retiring) friends all starting to fret about their possessions and how to get rid of them. This downsizing of theirs has resulted in more than a few boxes of useless stuff pitched in my direction. We recently received an assortment of about 20 videotapes of children's movies from an aunt in another state. Very well-meaning, of course, but in these days of Netflix and DVDs I'm happy to say I don't mind the job of taking them to Goodwill for her. Sometimes you just have to make gifts of things to purge them.

Here's a little blessing to all my future grown kids and extended family -- you may toss this ratty little covered journal right into the river where it can decompose and feed the fish. May someone thousands of years from now find the treasure of green glass beads embedded in sand. I don't care. It's my gift to you.