Traces: A New Series

Right from the get go, this summer presented its challenges. I say challenges because I like to think that I can rise to them, rather than being overcome by them.

So, when my 85 year old mother experienced a series of unfortunate events (think Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day), it was time to put my thinking cap on. She was beset by one malady after another and while helping her through, I knew that I needed to re-craft my art practice. This is because art is both a vocation and something that’s hard to go without. I had to create a series that was a marriage of necessity and curiosity.

Right away, I decided to reduce the size of the prints. I’d been working in sheets of 9″ x 12″ that arranged in 3 rows of 3, created a piece. “O.k.,” I thought, “I’ll jump back to the 30 x 30 challenge. 6″ x 8″ it is!”

And my topic? Over the last few years, I’d noticed that the recycled copy papers I use to mop up extra paint produced some extraordinary layers. The effect is something like a stucco wall with many layers of paint; an inadvertent fresco.

A Traces sample

But how to create that effect on the thicker art paper?  I began by simply putting pieces of paper down on the painted plate and leaving them there for a time. In this hot, dry valley, I didn’t need to wait overnight. Several hours could produce a paper with a thick layer of acrylic, very satisfying to pull off the gelli plate. I also added one or two layers of gel medium, tinted to bring out the color I was working with.

It’s been tremendous fun and the smaller sheets of paper provided a journal format; a way that I could record the mood of the day, the season and my own internal drive to leave traces of these days.

Bridging the Gap

I've been tucked into my studio for the last couple months, drawing jade plants, diverse succulents, taking notes and obsessively printing gelli prints. I’ve filled a notebook, and in the process, found a rhythm and perhaps some answers to a problem I've been trying to solve.

For the past couple of years, I've worked on a series called Shift, in which I explored my ecological niche of Davis. As the series progressed, I became more interested in the unusual shapes of plants I found visiting various botanical gardens. I began another series of collage works I called Botanical Dreams, inspired by the 30 paintings in 30 days  challenge presented by Leslie Saeta.

I’ve wanted to continue this series and I wanted to wed the monoprints of Shift with the collage, but after several months of trials and lots of recycled prints, I think I’m trying to make an arranged marriage. Shift needs to be one series and Botanical Dreams another.

As I write this, I realize that actually, I'm the bridge. I think that it's hard to leave the safety of a known series and decamp to another largely unknown territory, but the connection lies simply in my own two hands.

Poppies, Lupines and Printmaking Too!

Many years ago in graduate school, I was introduced to a form of printmaking called monoprinting, or sometimes, monotype. I'm a person not well suited to the long and meticulous craft of printmaking. But I did so love the notion of placing paper onto plate, applying pressure and seeing the creation of a whole new piece. It appeals to the alchemist in me.

Through the years I've experimented with different kinds of plates: glass, plexiglass, even the plastic surfaces of cutting boards, but I couldn't find a decent, printable surface that worked without the aid of a press. Then, one day several years ago, I visited an open studio event of a friend. She gave me a tour, and there, in one of the other artist's spaces, it's colorful package glinting in the sun, was a gelli plate.

As I touched its soft yielding surface (much like a batch of jello), I considered the possibilities. My friend offered to show me how it worked and we had several weekend workshops including other interested artists. I was hooked. Now several years and a number of plates later, I'm still experimenting, trying to push the limits of what the plate can do.

Next month, I'll be teaching a gelli printing workshop at our local Pence Gallery: Saturday, May 14 from 10- 3. There are still a few spots left, so whether you're new to gelli printing, or you'd like to stretch your printmaking  boundaries, I'd love to have you. I'm super excited about the planning--and look forward to sharing what I've learned about the simple beauty of this process.

Discovery of a New Series

Sometimes, a project ends with fireworks and celebration, sometimes with the feeling of quiet satisfaction of a challenge met and completed. In the case of 30x30, I found the latter but also, the opening to a new series of work. In Kauai, I was captivated by the foliage and flowers; the variety of colors and the fantastical shapes of the leaves. One day, riding down to the beach, I twisted my head around to stare at a tree whose branches and needle patterns wound around in an elegant spiral. I made the decision to return to the island this fall for an artist's retreat; a time to study, paint and draw the plant life. Until then, I think I'll be spending a lot of time at our local botanical garden, haunting my favorite, the Australian section, the closest cousins we have to tropical plants.

Below you'll find a convening of the 30 days--I was excited to make them into one giant collage; a celebration of the challenge.

#20, 30x30 Home Again!

There's a suitcase to be unpacked and memories to be stored in my minds' eye, but the studio calls. #20 is an homage to the water, the trees and the vivid blooms of the islands.

Day #19, 30x30, On the Road

 

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Day #18, 30x30, Total Immersion

After I've been in Kauai for more than a few days, it's easy to feel like I've been swallowed up, head, heart and hands. Even if I hold back, there are the mountains, the  mist and the sea, beckoning me with their hands out, and slowly drawing me in. Once immersed, I want to stay forever! I'm returning to my sweet home in Davis, California tomorrow, but all of these days will come back in the form of art. And if you'd like to share in the aloha and own one of them yourself, don't hold back! Each piece is $100, mounted on cradleboard, $150 with cradleboard and frame. You can contact me at hkhunterarts.com

Day #17, 30x30, Dreaming Again!

As the challenge continues, I find myself drawn more and more into the multitudinous shapes of the leaves on this island of Kauai. So many of them are palmate, meaning like a hand, and they come in all sizes from half an inch to several feet long. I could spend a long time here, drawing them.

Day #16, View to Hanalei

Much quieter here in our Hawaiian hale this afternoon. None of yesterday's drama. Just a quiet appreciation for the view from here.

Day #15, 30x30, Talk about blessings!

I'm straying again from my theme of Botanical Dreams, for good reason. This morning our family traveled to one of our favorite beaches to explore. I stopped in front of the crashing waves and offered a short prayer for the day: for protection, for grace and for generosity and walked off towards the lava rocks.

I stopped to put on my Keens, knowing the danger of lava cuts. As I bent to pull on my sandal, a man appeared and began to warn us of the 40 foot waves. My mind took in the information, but as it did, a huge wave flipped me over and dragged me out. There was nothing I could do, but shout for help.

My sister and the gentleman had to wait for the water to go out before they could reach down and pull me to safety. My next thought was for my daughter and her boyfriend who had gone on ahead. I asked the man, who appeared ocean savvy, to go with my husband and find them. Which they did.

But the story wasn't over. My leg was fairly cut up from the lava and my husband also scraped his foot, trying to help. We stopped at a local store for band-aids and Neosporin. My sister, who was still in shock from the incident (as was I) ran in without her wallet. When she got to the cash register, she discovered she'd forgotten her wallet. Another protector emerged in the Australian woman behind her in line, who simply said; "I'll get it." Amy promised to pay it forward.

After two such incidents of grace what can one do but be thankful?