Wikipedia claims these fantastic fungi are among the richest food sources for vitamin D. How thoughtful of mother nature to cultivate them in these Pacific Northwest woodlands, where sunshine is so often hard to come by. This tiny work is for sale in my etsy shop.
like Dr. Frankenstein
Picture me stitching little pale arms onto a tiny pale figure, silver scissors snapping snipping, needle hand doing it’s graceful rigid dance: puncture, glide, pull taught, puncture, glide, pull taught....
I am making a puppet, perhaps just for company, or maybe for something more.
on capturing the essence of a pickle
This morning, deep in the throes of piecing/stitching/painting, I had one of those weird perspective shifts where I briefly glimpsed myself as someone just walking into my work space would. There I stood, crumpling my brow, tilting my head back and forth to change the visual angle, muttering, focused, focused, focused on a pickle. Me, the brave artist, striving to strike a chord in the heart of humanity through my masterful depictions of pickles!
my first attempt at lichen
Since I posted that photo of lichen a few weeks ago, I’ve been mulling over ways of creating my own version of the stuff. These are nothing like the intension I began with, but I am still excited by them, and curious about their possibilities.
I cut, assembled, and stitched these while listening to a TED talk about creativity in the classroom. Quite appropriately, the speaker claimed that creativity cannot occur without one’s willingness to fail. This feels so absolutely true for me. If I could have recorded my internal dialogue while making these it would have gone something like this... “hmm, what am I doing? Well, that didn’t work. No, try that? what is this thing? weird! should I make another? these are ugly little suckers.....” I know it’s not much of a pep talk I’m giving myself but it’s actually one of my favorite working head spaces. I’ll call it my experimental mode. In that mode I’ve generated some really horrifically ugly art but I’ve also planted the seeds for the work I am most proud of.
a needle sketch
The profound and poetic statement on this sketch was borrowed from a rewrite of Tracy Chapman’s song Fast Car, entitled Slow Bike. The parody was written and performed by the talented and clever musicians, Steve Pile, Justin Shannon, and Richard Llamas. They wrote it in their pre-facial hair era. I couldn’t get ahold of a copy of their autobiography, so details could be off. Nonetheless, thank you, Steve, Justin, and Rich, for the inspiration.
satisfaction
I am hardwired for dissatisfaction. It is the fuel that drives me (often in productive ways) to better myself and invest in the world around me. Quite often that gnawing sense of dissatisfaction is what spurs me to clean my house, complete art work, pull weeds, exercise, apply for grants, practice my ukulele.
Unfortunately, if I turn up the volume on that feeling just a bit to much it becomes corrosive. I find myself inciting conflict with my partner, nagging my kids, or insulting and discouraging myself. In that state of mind I am to riled to notice the many opportunities I have to experience, to relish, a satisfying moment. Working on a project with my daughters, laughing with Josh, eating a really delicious dinner, visiting with family, sitting in the sun, planting something, picking something... The opportunities are endless. I just have to notice them.
BIG time
For the last few months I have been entertaining a growing desire to create a really large scale piece of art. I’m talking BIG! Like install it with a ladder, rent a truck to move it, build it in multiple sections, BIG. I made this four panel piece, “Holding on to the Past”, in an attempt to scratch my BIG itch. It has only fed the fire.