Midsummer Musings

This time of deep summer, or midsummer speaks to me of so many things: fireflies and stars, midnight escapades to deep lakes and the possibility that the light will go on forever. And art, above and beyond all, there is art.

Midsummer, June 21, is also the epicenter of the year, with 6 months behind us and 6 months yet to come; a time to take stock and set my art course for the coming months.

My art course was recently altered by a botanical ecoprinting class with artist, Lotta Helleberg. My previous botanical monoprints utilized plants as a means to create pattern. The color of the print was provided by acrylic paint. In ecoprinting, the plants, through the process of soaking and simmering, become both the print and the color medium.

What a revelation! I was enchanted by the mysterious and numinous results and since then, I've been working on ways juxtaposing ecoprints, monoprints and text in a collage format. I'm excited by the results and ready to ready to spend the summer cooking up prints in my own backyard. Call in the fireflies!

Text and Image

I was recently asked to write a guest blog post for Ann E. Grasso, a talented East Coast artist and architect. I had a great time reflecting and writing it and wanted to share this repost with all of you.

Because I take classes online, I meet people from various geographical locations that I would never bump into otherwise. Hannah fits this category. While my usual draw is the visual, in the case of Hannah, it was her words, her thoughts, her care, and concern. Therefore, it is interesting to learn from her writing below that her first solo show was titled Text and Image. Text came first. It is my sincere pleasure to know Hannah through her art as well as her words.

Ann Grasso

And now the page is hers.

Text and Image

Text and Image was the title of my first solo show, many years ago. The title conjures a feeling of magic; the alchemy that occurs when words are combined with images. Those 3 words continue to resonate in my art, years later.

You Know Who You Are @2004, 11” x 14,” Acrylic and colored pencil on paper, private collection

How did I come to add text to image? It’s classic case of nature and nurture.

I went to college in Iowa City, IA, home of the Iowa Writer’s Workshop. Words flew through the air like birds. And my parents were writers; it was natural that text would flow into my work. A bookworm from childhood, I just figured that the best way to approach a piece of paper was as a page of a book.

Gazing Ball, @2004, 11” x 14,” Acrylic and Collage on paper, Collection of University of Iowa Hospitals

Nonetheless, it took many years to figure out how text and image (painted, drawn or printed) interact and how I can use them in my art to create a tight and powerful piece of work.

When I incorporate text, I’m aware that the words exist as hundreds of drawn lines which combine with the lines of paint or drawing to form a composition.

I love to use foreign language books and because I can’t read Japanese or Hebrew (for example) and I lean more on the linear quality of the letter forms.

I also use my intuition when placing text. There are times when someone sees my work at an exhibit and knows the language that I have used.

More often than not, the meaning of the words harmonizes with the spirit of the artwork.

Another issue that arises when incorporating words is whether or not the words need be readable (especially in English). I’ve gone back and forth on this.

There are times in my work when I obscure the words, turn them upside down and make them difficult to discern. I don’t want them to lead the meaning.

Seeds: New Year, @2017, 7” x 10,” Monoprint collage on paper

In my most recent work though, I’m more open to the words being easy to see and read. I’m using a Hindi-English dictionary as well as another dictionary in French.

I can understand some of the French, and that adds additional shades of meaning to the piece.

And although I can give you reasons why I include words in my work and tell you how I use them, what undergirds it all is a kind of joy. When words come together with color, shape and form, I feel whole and complete.

As You Begin, @2017, 12” x 12,” Monoprint collage on panel

How about you? How do you use text in your artwork? I’d love to hear from you.

You can find me at https:hannahklaushunterarts.com, hkhunterarts@gmail.com or on Instagram: @hkhunterarts.




In Spite Of, @2006, 12” x 12,” Collage on panel, private collection

Inspiration, Influence and Confluence

Recently I’ve thought about the line between inspiration and influence and when influence can become confluence in art. I wanted to break it down even further so I could understand how these elements operate in my own art making practice.

Last week, I had the chance to explore the thread I call “confluence” following a workshop in botanical contact eco printing.

Examples of botanical eco printing on paper

I love the ethereal effects that I see in eco printing and wanted to see if I could use plant pigments in my own monoprints.

The workshop, led by artist Lotta Helleberg, was challenging and absorbing. Each day we explored the subtle combinations that plants and mordants (fixatives) can create. I tried to keep the various equations in neat columns in my mind’s eye.

My best work came when I threw up my hands and stuck to the basics.

Infinity scarf printed with prunus leaves on silk/wool blend

The question of inspiration, influence and confluence only truly emerged back in my studio. I work with plant materials, acrylic paints and a gel plate to create botanical monoprints. I wanted to carry over the watery influence of the eco dye baths; the way plants emboss themselves into the paper and leave tangible marks of their presence. I figured this would be easy.

After several printing sessions, I ended up with prints that were neither eco nor mono but a muddle.

Eco prints and monoprints converging

“What’s going on?” I wondered. “I know how to do this.” I was confused until I received an email from another student. She mentioned how stuck she was following the workshop.

The metaphor of two rivers joining rushed into my mind. When one river joins together with another, it’s called a confluence.

Many things happen when two or three volumes of water with different temperatures, speed and density merge. It’s a messy affair.

The same thing happens when we take part in classes or workshops. The nature of a workshop is immersion; in technique, artwork and the work of other artists. That’s confluence. Once back home, it’s confusing. What’s us? What’s not ours? What marks, patterns or colors looked good but may or may not belong in our work?

Like two rivers converging, it takes time for new material to settle, to allow our unique voice to emerge, hopefully all the stronger for joining with others.

After all, when the Yangtze River absorbs the water from the Jialing, it becomes more powerful and runs for thousands of miles until it meets the South China Sea.

How about you? What’s your experience of confluence in your work?

Spring: Wide Open

Spring has come again to my corner of the world. Each bush, plant and tree bursts forth in shades of lilac and pale gold so quickly, it stops me in my tracks. The weeks of winter, all the days of waiting give way to wonder.

Seeing Light, 12" x 12," Monoprint Collage with Walnut Ink

I can't keep up with it! The jasmine over our back gate opens, showering its fragrance on passers by.

The jasmine's abundance is infectious. Up in the studio, my pieced collages grow apace. Tender new leaves tempt me on on my walks. I gather handfuls of leaves and carry them, like gifts, up to the studio.

Last fall, I started a bucket of walnut ink last fall and this week, I called it ready and poured rich, inky liquid into half pint jars, lining them up to admire their contents.

I'm brushing the ink on some of my paper squares before I print and I like the subtle undertones it adds to the work. I'm curious to see how it affects the direction of new prints and I'll share more as they emerge. In the meantime, I wish you much delight as spring unfolds, wherever you are.

Squares with walnut ink, ready for printing with eucalyptus leaves.

Wholehearted Living--Dive In!

We just concluded our yearly retreat at Wellness Within. Located just outside the Tahoe National Forest at 3500 feet, Harmony Lodge was a cozy place indeed as the rain poured down outside.

Our focus was self compassion; we spent the afternoon trading stories, thoughts and memories as participants created papier-mâché "bowls of compassion." Tears and laughter filled the room as one woman after another shared her thoughts and colorful bowl.

The bowl of compassion project is just one of the art therapy workshops that I'm offering this year at Wellness Within,  a cancer support organization in Roseville, CA.

Early in the year I wanted a focus around which I could build this series of workshops. Grazing the internet, I came across Brené Brown's 10 guideposts for wholehearted living. On my first read through her book, "Gifts of Imperfection," they did not leap off the page. This time was different. Fascinated by the way the guideposts* actually offer a set of prompts to cultivate these qualities, I knew that I'd found my subject.

The Wellness Within folk are a diverse group, tied together by the commonality of a cancer diagnosis. They often arrive newly diagnosed, shocked and alone--or further along the treatment spectrum, seasoned and ready to share what they've learned with others.

I wanted the art projects and guideposts to offer each of them nourishment and a step along a path of healing.

In January, we dove into authenticity and February was the month of self-compassion. (What better way to celebrate the month of love?) Each time we meet, I'm humbled by these women's courage and fortitude, and, simultaneously buoyed up by the stories they share. 

Going forward, we'll paint, print, collage and laugh our way through whatever arises on this sturdy path of months. And, as the year unfolds, we'll create practices that incorporate these guideposts in easy and practical ways.

Our next workshop at Wellness Within is on Saturday, March 11 from 10 am - 12 pm. Our focus: cultivating a resilient spirit, or: let go of powerlessness, a topic that could not be more apropos for these times. If you'd like to join us, there are still several spots open. To register, or for more information, contact Wellness Within.

Brene Browns 10 Guideposts to Wholehearted Living:

*1. Cultivating authenticity: letting go of what people think 2. Cultivating self-compassion: letting go of perfectionism 3. Cultivating a resilient spirit: letting go of numbing and powerlessness 4. Cultivating gratitude and joy: letting go of scarcity and fear of the dark 5. Cultivating intuition and trusting faith: letting go of the need for certainty 6. Cultivating creativity: letting go of comparison 7. Cultivating play and rest: letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self- worth 8. Cultivating calm and stillness: letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle 9. Cultivating meaningful work: letting go of self-doubt and “supposed to” 10. Cultivating laughter, song, and dance: letting go of being cool and “always in control.”