Ninepatch Navigation

Goldenrod’s Shadow

Growing up in the Midwest, I knew it was fall when I saw the roads edged with goldenrod, purple aster and chicory. In those days, there was a straight line from the roadside wildflowers to blue-lined goldenrod paper pads. The fresh school year and my birthday combined to make autumn a  time of new beginnings.

These impressions stay with me and each fall I look forward to the available exhibits and classes. With an exhibit of Monet at Étretat at the Seattle Art Museum and the long awaited retrospective of Joan Mitchell at SFMOMA, my calendar is beginning to take shape. Add to that a new abstract drawing class with Sara Post  and a collage study group with Erin McClusky Wheeler and I think I have the makings of a great fall in the studio.

Although I regret not being able to take part in our recent Open Studio event on Whidbey Island, I've got plans to release the work online before the holidays. In the meantime I'm leading two workshops taking place in October. Check out my Events page for more.

From the Navigation Series

In the Studio

Recently, I've pondered my next step in the studio. It’s still a challenging time with several members of my family ill and I wanted a project that I could do in my studio or wherever else I might need to be.

Not sure how to proceed, I decided to call up my friend, writer and artist Carol Spindel. We’ve been friends since our sophomore year at university and have enjoyed countless conversations about art and art life. Carol was quick to understand my dilemma and told me I needed a format that was able to hold my ideas together no matter what turmoil went on inside. “You need a template. Something that you can return to over and over like a meditation.” Knowing our mutual love for quilts, she mentioned the nine-patch pattern — a repetition of squares and triangles with endless possibilities for variation.

Her words struck a chord, and right away I knew what to do. I’d step forward from my Recovery series and begin a new one I’ve dubbed “Navigation,” as in Navigating the pandemic, climate change, illness, aging. Like the nine-patch quilt, there is richness in the word “navigate."

Taking a cue from my island surroundings, I chose to limit my palette to deep greens, grays, blacks and golds, the template of a 6” square and the challenge of using what I have in my print and ephemera collection. The game is on and I’m having a truly good time taking apart old work, re-piecing it with new elements, and simply beginning from scratch. I look forward to sharing more of these works with you soon!

Re-Sourcing Inspiration

It's not an easy time to be human. (Has there been an easier time?) Surrounded by soaring temperatures, wildfires and floods, I ask myself "what can I do? Beyond reducing, recycling, and reusing (how many yogurt containers and bubble wrap sheets do you have?) there's a more essential question:"What can I do to make the world a better place?"

I dreamt last night that I'd gone back to work at UC Davis Children's Hospital, where I spent many years as an art therapist. Each day I walked out of the hospital, certain that I'd made a difference. But for me, now, the way to make a difference lies in devoting myself more deeply to my art and believing in the power of art to change lives. Because after all, what was I using to make a difference at work--art! And certainly my life directions and perspectives have been in large part shaped by the art I've studied and the writers I've read.

The challenge to believe in my own work has had a big helping hand this summer: Mark and Marija Eane's course: Language of Design. Although I have a BA and an MFA in art, I went to school at a time when technique and the mastery of craft were not as highly valued in art education. I've longed for a class like this and now it's here.

Mark and Marija have broken down the language of design into its principles and elements (balance, hierarchy, color, line, shape, etc.). They take us through in-depth lectures and share glorious examples from art history. There are well crafted exercises and as I do them, I feel holes of missing knowledge being filled, areas where I've known something was missing but didn't know what it was.

In this time of whirling chaos, their commitment to teaching and their workshop has infused new energy into my studio practice.

Recovering Art and Time!

Time and the Artist

Meerkerk Gardens, Greenbank, WA

Recently I've been thinking about timing. About when I decide to travel, to make art, or to visit others. And when to start a new project.

I had the best intentions of making my botanical collage video in April, but didn't account for the surgery I'd planned, thinking it would be quick and I'd be back in action within a few days. Hmmm…how about a few weeks?

During my recovery, I learned a lot about timing. And focus. A short book, Essentialism, helped me understand how to shift from numerous activities to just a few carefully selected ones with the goal of making real and sustainable progress.

Art making made the top of my list. As I let go of other pursuits, I'm zeroing in on what I think is really important. I've started the video, re-organized my studio and I'm off to a new beginning.

What are you choosing to carry forward from this time?

The Gentle Art of Recovery

Quartet from the Recovery Series

After the first few days post surgery, I got tired of reading and needed something to do. The art therapist part of me suggested that just as I'd brought trays of art materials to hospital patients, I might treat myself to the same thing. I loaded up a tray of collage papers, ephemera, scissors and glue and my "Recovery" series began.

Recovery, the dictionary says, is the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost. It's an apt title for this time when we are recovering travel, family get-togethers, and a sense of normalcy. It can also refer to what we carry forward from this time, whatever that might be.

Twenty-eight pieces in all, the collages in Recovery are intimate works, each just 4" x 4". Once I mount them on panels, I'll be excited to share the collection with you.

Artfully Walls

I was recently contacted by a licensing company, Artfully Walls, that was interested in my work. A licensing company contracts with artists to sell a selection of prints. All of the production work -- paper selection, printing, sales and shipping -- is handled by the company. Although the revenues for the artist are often small, exposure is an advantage. And for collectors, it means that you can procure artists' works at a very reasonable price. I'm excited to have my own "shop" on their site. If you feel like doing some low budget redecorating, sending a gift to someone setting up house, or even a nursery, take a look!

Hannah on Artfully Walls

Is There An Easier Way?

Last month, I created an accountability challenge for myself. “Is there an easier way of being with my work?” I asked myself. I wrote the words on the wall calendar which covers most of my studio door, knowing that I’d easily forget it. Initially, it was fun (and even ease-y;) to work with ease, but fairly soon after I set the intention, I’d forget and then land back in the mud.

After a number of times experiencing ease/dis-ease, I realized, “o.k., so this intention is something that I need to come back to over and over, like repeating a mantra." My immediate thought after that was "oh god, another item to add to the to do list, this isn't going to work. I need to come up with something else." I threw that thought out to the universe where it collided with a question: "how can I make exploratory work and work that my collectors like?" Out of the collision, came a solution.

It turns out that if I cycle between the two or three different kinds of work in a studio day, I'm actually better able to problem solve in each area. It's like the rest of my life; I'm a hummingbird moving from one blossom to another. I get things completed, but not by sitting down and powering through. It's in the spaces between each activity that my brain is able to relax and solutions arise. Who knew that just being myself would yield these results?

Surprised and Delighted

Thank you, thank you to all of you who purchased my Botanical Monoprint video. I'm grateful and surprised by all the places the video is touching down: Norway, Germany, Australia, Britain!

Lucky video. We humans have to travel by imagination these days. One of my great pleasures is thinking about the places I might visit once we are all vaccinated. Some of these spots are close to home: for instance, what it would be like to meet someone for coffee and share a scone? Doesn't that sound delightful?

If you purchased the video, (or even if you didn't and you're a monoprinter), I have a request. Because we're all staying close to home, I'd love it if you'd take a picture of one of your monoprints and send it to me along with the name of the place you're sending it from. I'd like to share them in the next newsletter. If you want to take it a step further, photograph it outdoors so we can see your natural habitat! Monoprint postcards flying into my inbox --I can't wait to see them!

In the meantime, if you're interested in getting the video and haven't had a chance, just use the button below.

Get the Video!