A Gathering of Days

What a year it has been for all of us. Thankfully, now there is hope. Hope in the form of a vaccine, hope because we understand how to keep each other safe--even though we are longing to travel, longing to hug,, longing to see our families and friends.

Art has played a key role in keeping myself sane. Many of you know that I practiced art therapy for many years. This year, I turned the practice towards myself. I took the pressure to look for commissions off myself and decided to spend the year learning more about abstraction. I'm really happy I did.

And in a funny way, I've come full circle. I posted an image on Instagram the other day which I'd discovered in one those tiny files in my Instagram profile. It was a picture of two of my botanical prints, blown up to create large scale prints. When I looked at it, I saw a freedom that I haven't felt this year, an expansiveness. I began to see ways in which I can combine the lushness of those prints with abstraction. And as I did, it seemed my window into the new year of 2021 began to open.

My wish for all of us this holiday season is that we keep our eyes open to new doors, new possibilities.

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Monkeys in the Studio & An Art Sale!

What's Happening in the Studio?
(A Lockdown Art Sale!)

Salal Berry Blues

As we near the year's end, I'm reflecting on my studio practice. To say it's been a challenging year for all of us is an understatement. And yet, there are gems hidden deep within the chaos.

I've spent my year exploring several avenues rich with possibility, taking my collages and monoprints further into abstraction and diving into wet cyanotypes and ecoprints. And the resulting artworks are piling up. So...I'm having a lockdown art sale!

While we here in Washington state are in lockdown, I'm offering this art for sale on my website. Beginning Sunday, November 22nd, I'll add one new piece each day for 21 days. I'll also send you a preview of that week's art offerings.

Like the Advent calendars of old, there will be surprises, small treasures and even some giveaways. Prices will be lock-down friendly and gift wrapping will be included. Many of us are having to forego seeing family and friends, and that's hard. But we can easily send a little gift--or give one to ourselves.

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It's a Sock Monkey Challenge

One of the great pleasures during my years as an art therapist was my imaginary Mary Poppins bag of projects. I loved collecting new ideas that I could pull out at a moment's notice. One of my favorites was the sock monkey and I made them with all kinds of clients.

This year, with a brand new grandchild (yup, she's hands down the best!), I decided to make her a family of monkeys for her first Christmas.

It's a great project for this season of dark days and Covid uncertainty so I'm sharing this video, made by another artist, Kat Thorsen who got me started. I also have 4 extra pairs of sox. If you'd like to join me, and you are one of the first four to send me your name and address, I'll send you a pair of socks. If you take up the challenge, I'd love to see your creations!

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It's a Sock Monkey Challenge

 When I took the step of making a video, I had no idea of what was really involved. It turned out to be like learning the times tables; an initial big jump and then pleasure as I began to understand the structure behind the process. With a few tweaks to go, the Botanical Monoprinting video will be on sale in January!

Back to the School of Life!

Back to the School of Life!

Chance Encouters, 20” x 8”, Monoprint Collage

Born in September, I always associate early autumn with goldenrod and school supplies. Now, I've come to see fall as a time of reflection.

During this year of extraordinary challenges, I'm taking those that have come my way and squeezing them for all they're worth to extract whatever inspiration that lies within them.

In the studio, I'm working on two series of collages, each of which travels along a line. I'm hoping that at some point these lines, not being parallel, will intersect.

In the first series, Chance Encounters, I've taken pieces of cyanotypes, monoprints, and book text and mixed them up to create interactive quilt blocks of information. The other day, I looked at my bookcase and was struck by how much the collages also look like books.

The second series, Plum Time, explores a mixture of ferns and the redbud leaves called Forest Pansies. I'm looking for calm, for space with underlying texture.

Books, quilts, and textiles, these are all tactile objects that bring comfort and inspiration during these uncertain times, and I'm following the threads to see where they will lead.

Below: Plumtime 1 , 9" x 12", Monoprint Collage

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Monoprinting; A Quick Look

Over the past several years, I've had inquiries from friends and followers on Instagram about teaching online classes. Initially, I was flattered, but teaching in person was still an option. I love the give and take that being together in a class offers. Inspiration flows, like air through the classroom.

Given that for now, we can't venture out to local art centers, and, that I'm married to a videographer, I decided to dive in and create a video class series.

I plan to begin with a class on basic botanical monoprinting, follow with a second on alternative botanical printmaking techniques and finally a third on how to bring it all together in a collage format.

I've made a short video to share with you. You'll learn what you need to get started and the basics of how to make a botanical monoprint.

Please enjoy and I hope that it whets your appetite for more!

I'll be taping the first class next week and hope to offer it as "Art Antidote" in early November.  

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Reflections from a Covid Summer

In my last newsletter I asked you what mind hacks and/or crazy fun things have you come up with during this time. I received some wonderful replies to share with you (lightly edited for style as the New York Times says;).

It is a consolation, in these troubling times, to live in a cozy place with endless skies, mountain ranges and nature so close by. When we head out for a hike around 6:30 am, all kinds of creatures can be stirring in the chamiso bushes, pinions, and flowering cactus. If we're lucky, we can hear a band of coyotes running through the arroyos howling their dawn and dusk songs. 
Tori, New Mexico

You are reading my mind. I have wondered what other artists are up to. As I mentioned the illustration project about adoption has kept me busy. It is all in collage so those tiny pieces of paper have become my world. 
Beth, Georgia
 

Last week I spied a Eucalyptus branch that had fallen...such a pretty color and textured bark... I snatched it up and proudly carried it home. My plan is to make a Spirit Stick. This one will be simple though to show off much of the beautiful bark. I was so happy to be inspired in the moment, grateful for tiny moments now.
Sara, California

Useless Bay Art Camp

This summer has not been easy for any of us. Faced with the virus, rampant unemployment and our nation's reckoning with racism, I'm tempted to hide under the covers. When our society needs to close down for now, how do we as individuals/artists remain open to a changing world?

The other day, I considered the various activities I do to maintain a sense of continuity, meaning and depth. "Aha!", I thought, "these activities are my summer camp in situ."  I've christened it "Useless Bay Summer Camp." Instead of yoga taking place in a lodge, my purple yoga mat has pride of place at the back of our living room. Instead of a craft cabin, craft activities take place in an impromptu back yard studio or a friend's farm with just  two or three people at a time; pods that are subsets of my bubble. We've explored cyanotypes (thank you Linda Clark Johnson!) and ice dyeing (thank you Zia Gipson!)

These activities don't produce great or salable art, but more importantly, they create a rich human connection that I long for and miss. After one of our afternoons together, I feel a lightness of being, a joy that bubbles up inside and carries me forward.

I'm curious, as artists and art lovers, what mind hacks and crazy fun things have you come up with this summer? Email me and let me know. I'll share them in the next newsletter.

Summer Tableau, 20" x 15", Monoprint collage and ink

Upcoming Online Class

Until recently I've had my doubts about doing an online class. At the time of the last newsletter, my class at Pacific Northwest Art School was still on. The day after I pushed "post," I received an email saying that the school had cancelled all of their classes for the rest of the year.

That got me thinking. I've missed being in the fresh waters of teaching, engaged as students and teachers in a fun and active learning process. After swimming in 4 different online art classes this summer (part of UBS Camp), I decided to jump into virtual waters myself.

I'm married to a videographer, so why not? Before we start the camera rolling though, I need to do a little market research. My question for all of you who've asked for online classes is, "What is it you particularly want to learn?" If you'd be kind enough to shoot me a couple of lines, that will help me to guide my workshop design, so that I'm targeting what you are looking for.

The Scent of Lemon, 20” x 15”, Monoprint collage

Good News to Share!

I'm delighted to share that two of my monoprint collage works, The Scent of Lemon and Love Note to Spring have been selected by the Boston Children's Hospital for their collection in the new Hale Family Building.
I like to imagine little hands pointing to parts of the print, getting close enough to touch it, just before their parents say "Don't Touch!"

Welcome to Summer Artlife!

We just passed Summer Solstice and up here in the Pacific Northwest, it means that the sky still holds some light at 10:00 pm and brightens with the birds at 4:00 am. Plenty of light for art making!

Although I appreciate the time and solitude for art that the pandemic offers, I'm struggling to hold the paradoxes of this time. There has been much suffering, both from the pandemic and the sorrow and rage that prompted nationwide protests. At the same time, we have found new ways to connect with each other. The inability to gather in person has forced us as artists to think in new ways, to reflect on how we can teach and share our art with the world right now.

For my part, I've found the desire to make art has only grown stronger. I've taken part in Zoom classes and an online sketchbook challenge and both inspired me to consider my work from different angles. My first full summer on Whidbey Island adds another inspiration; altering my palette to include the varied hues of this area.

View fullsize

Spring Wind, 20” x 15”, Monoprint collage

In the Studio

Every Tuesday morning throughout April and May, I spent an hour drawing leaves, trees, rocks, shells and imaginary landscapes with my friend and mentor, Sara Post. Her solution to cancelled workshops was to offer drawing classes online. Her 1-2 minute challenges produced a kind of line that I've been looking for but hadn't found on my own. A more fluid and improvisational hand is making its way into my collage work.

In case you want to get in on the fun, she's beginning a challenge on June 30 called, "Drawing Every Day" and you can contact her here for more information.

Also in early May, I was contacted by an art consultant in Boston curating work for Boston Children's Hospital. I didn't have work available, and so set off on a two week printing and collage frenzy in the studio. It was an opportunity to work larger and to incorporate a more subdued (read soothing) palette and asemic writing. You can see one of the pieces, Spring Wind, above. I've spent the last two days printing up collage paper and look forward to jumping into more such works.
 

Asemic writing is a wordless open semantic form of writing. The word asemic means "having no specific semantic content", or "without the smallest unit of meaning". With the non-specificity of asemic writing there comes a vacuum of meaning, which is left for the reader to fill in and interpret.

Samantha Kay

Introductions

Last, and definitely not least, I want to introduce you to a new person in my life: my granddaughter, Samantha Kay. This is my first experience as a grandmother and from the moment I saw her, she captured my heart. As far as acts of creation go, giving birth is the pretty much the ultimate.