fountains

I love fountains and look for them when traveling. Growing up the sound of water was always in the background but now, living a few miles inland, I miss it.

The angel above is on the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park, NYC, the dolphin baring its teeth below is part of a fountain in the Huntington Gardens in Pasadena, California.

façade

Here's what's on the easel right now, a façade from Lille, France. After a while of working on those teensy door and window frames though my eyes feel dazzled and it's time to work on some drawings.

Most of my pieces are small but this one is even smaller than most at about 3"x5". It may get bigger, I haven't decided how to finish it yet.


Occasionally I pick up pieces of old lace when I go with my mom to vide greniers in her area but I haven't been using them lately so they were scattered, bits tucked away here and there along with other flotsam and jetsam. The other day I thought maybe I'd use some precious sunlight house to re-organise the studio but after working away for a couple hours it didn't look terribly different so I abandoned the effort and went back to painting.

ghost

Before I spend endless amounts of time painting (because I am the slowest of all painters) I spend endless amounts of time deciding what I will paint. My paintings are layers of images, and I draw, paint and photograph all the components separately then occasionally sift through the piles looking for pieces to combine.



This is the palest-green butterfly that flew in to the house one evening last summer and was caught under a wineglass before being released back outside. I love the way the insect floats, seemingly unsupported, but I don't know yet how I will use it.



To go with the butterfly I'll need a sample of handwriting, which will be disguised so most words cannot be read.



Some architecture, or maybe part of a map?



Background colour.



Or maybe toss all that and go with flowers and a fragment of handwritten poem or a letter?

While I am combining the visual pieces, their meanings also come together in a narrative which determines subsequent choices and also what part of each image will be obscured. It tells me which words should be legible, and the title. Nothing of this is recorded, because I think each viewer develops their own relationship with a picture, and knowing the artist's ideas is not necessary.

With all the parts chosen I sit down to make sketches until the pieces knit together, then it's finally time to start painting.

the cause of my unhappiness as I sit in a garret without a glass of wine

at this stage I still hold out hope

here I'm fatally unhappy with it and call it terrible names

Okay, you probably guessed I'm not really in a garret. But I am sitting in a little upstairs room stewing, without a glass of wine. And can't step out on the miniature balcony (3' x 2') for some fresh air and sprinkling rain because I've not tidied and some panels are blocking the door.

Is it bad to post frustration on an artist's blog? When I read other blogs there are pictures of lovely new works and happy news of openings and sales, which is always nice to read (especially in difficult economic times!).

But tonight I am too irritated to post about the piece I worked on yesterday that I am happy with, because of this blue roof-scape.

It's not even from a sketch that I was really wild about, I just wanted to complete it to work out some things before I start a piece whose sketch I do love. And after a day out and about I was looking forward to an evening of progress and foolishly put off a friend's weekly visit to get to it. So instead of pleasant conversation over warm bread, cheese and a glass of wine in the dining room I am grousing over a painted wooden panel and haven't made so much as a cup of tea.

Part of the frustration, I suppose, is trying to figure out when to give up. I spend a lot of time on colour sketches and usually know for certain when I finish whether I want to go on to paint something or not, so I normally do not find myself spending time on I am not fond of.

And I paint in many layers, so working on something means I am spending a lot of time with it. (I was very happy when I learned that an artist I love (Vija Celmins) works so slowly that museums wait decades to get enough of her work together to put on an exhibition.) By the time the first image above was taken this panel had gone through many incarnations and could still conceivably surpass the original sketch.

But now it's murky, it doesn't look like the sketch but is not an improvement on it, and although I have a bit of Renaissance script that was supposed to be the finish it's currently dark enough that I think I'd have to do too much to make the final layers work.

So, devote more time to this piece? A look at my tiny supply of panels makes me feel less than generous to the uncooperative. But limited time means I don't want those hours to have been unproductive.

I'll look at it tomorrow after working a while on another painting, maybe the mood will change.

Edit: Below is how it looked last week, I have since changed it some more.

post

I've actually had both a computer and internet access for a while now but was feeling intimidated about blogging again after being away for so long. It's even more ridiculous than that though, I kept running across fabulous things and thinking I can't wait to post this on the blog, then I didn't. Okay then, enough wallowing.

I inherited quite a few old postcards but I still get weak a few times a year and comb through what's in the stalls at the flea markets looking for ones with ruins or any sort of Gothic bits. Then I look for an(other) old suitcase to carry them in.

This piece is one of a series that I'm working on that was inspired by some of my favourite postcards. So far I'm just doing small pieces, which is good because I haven't re-organised the studio in a while and space is getting limited.

So, back to work. Wouldn't want to write too much on my first day back or anything.

waves

What a great weekend - it was all about the water. Yesterday I floated for three hours in a friend's pool while we talked - so unbelievably relaxing. Today I breathed salt air and listened to the sound of the surf, and this evening I'm working on this piece with colours from the waves.

blue

This is the current stage of the middle of the piece I am working on, it is going slowly.

I've been off my groove lately, this has somehow been a very complicated year, and I've let things eat away at my work time - a dangerous trend especially since technical problems are also hindering productivity.

These last few days I've been re-inspired and mad to work, but found myself instead enjoying spending time and eating (a lot!) with family and friends. Saturday I ate each meal with different people (ending up in an incredibly atmospheric old building full of wandering passages for a delicious dinner), but after lunch today it was time to get serious and focus, which feels great and frustrating at the same time.

The first few hours in the studio I generally spend flailing, the longer I've been away the longer I spend lost and wandering before I find the path, but I even resisted the holiday parade going down my street this afternoon and am finally making some progress.

Tomorrow I'll be getting my little flame thrower fired up, it's time to layer encaustic.

navigating

I love all kinds of maps, and I have been fussing with this one off and on for a while without being sure where exactly to go with these constellations. They may be put aside to be part of a series of maps and charts that has been in the back of my mind for a while.

It’s hard to concentrate lately because of some frustrating technical problems, I love solving problems when it comes to building the metal boxes, figuring out different ways of making hinges and new hidden compartments, but when it comes to materials difficulties when I’m working with the 2D pieces I have no patience at all.

Sometimes when I am working out how to build one of kinetic pieces it makes me sad that my grandfather died before I could show him the things I make. Pictures weren’t his thing, although his family included many artists he was an inventor, and when he saw problems and inefficiencies he automatically started coming up with solutions. When I’m building something the technical difficulties are often my favourite parts of the process, various solutions are getting worked out in the back of my mind day and night, and I love the continual challenge after challenge until the let-down when it’s completed.

my heart

Often when I go to compose a post I am tempted to just put an image of whatever piece I am working on without any text, I find writing very difficult. I love reading what other people write though, and admire how skilfully some people blog.

During a conversation there are the constant decisions and adjustments regarding how much of one’s life and thoughts to reveal. Bloggers, without knowing who will be reading, need to somehow maintain a balance between not revealing enough to intrigue a reader, and sharing too much, thus becoming instantly uninteresting.

I first started reading Rima’s blog because I love her lively drawings, paintings, and fabulous clocks with their medieval influence (and this game she made is fantastic), but besides being a talented artist (child of two artists) her talent as a storyteller sharing her adventures helps make her blog so entertaining (and popular).

Making the decision to take time away from her work to share the joyful times of her life is generous, but it must be hard to decide to keep writing at times like now when things are not going well. I admire how strong she is to be open at a vulnerable time.

sarah

As usual I find myself astonished at what the clock says. It’s so easy to work all night in the quiet, there is no sign that time is passing.

moth letter

I am working on some butterfly/moth + flower images this week, this is the one closest to being finished.

I’ve been experimenting with encaustic and layers of vellum and paper, I love how the vellum resists ink, gathering it up, making the image even more translucent. The ones that turned out best had pale colours and a limited palette.

Time is limited because I’m getting a lot of small pieces ready for a show, so back to the bugs…

texture

The warm colour of this recent piece doesn’t appear when I put it on the blog, nor the texture, of course.

I love it when I get to visit art I’ve only seen in reproduction and can finally see the surface and the real colours. Size also has such an impact, whether because a piece dominates the space or because it is small and draws the viewer in, and none of that comes across in a book or on-line.

At this time of night my wish is for more hours in every day, there never seem to be enough daylight hours for anything I do with colour. Plus more hours in the night for composing. And calorie-free chocolates.

dawn

I started this piece with a chalk sketch of a lovely 10-year-old I know. She has a beautiful wavy blond mane and a lovely singing voice, neither of which shows up here. I love her eyebrows, their angle gives her a vulnerable look.

Sometimes when I sit down to compose a new picture I can’t figure out how to start, the visual equivalent of writer’s block, I suppose. Suddenly I can’t remember how, as if I’d never done it before, and I swear it happens every third time I sit down to sketch out something new – absolutely ridiculous.

After struggling for a couple hours somehow I finally tap into it, then spend the rest of the night sketching out new pieces. Until when I should be getting up the next morning.

Luckily, there’s the work of creating the final versions before I do it all again.

broken

This window is in a beautiful building in the village my mom lives in, it was abandoned 19 years ago.

In my art I like to use images from my life and the places I’ve explored. Damaged old buildings evoke so many emotions, and questions.

This piece is not finished but I haven’t figured out where to go with it next.

locations

This is what I’ve been finishing up this week, another architecture + script. I love gothic anything, I haven’t put the buildings in my work much, but I do use this old Italian handwriting frequently.

All the travelling has stopped (for now) after a weekend at a beautiful town up the coast for a wedding (also beautiful). My computer celebrated by coming down with some dreadful, barely fixable condition, and now, after everything it went through as a cure, I’m having a hard time finding my stuff. I may have to learn quite a bit more about computers to get everything re-organized, adding to the chaos of moving back in to my regular life.

It has not been enough to keep me from thinking about a trip to New Orleans in March though, I’ve been dreaming about the food, music, and the architecture.

doorway

For this I used the image of my mother’s doorway – sitting here I can smell the stone and plaster walls (unless my sister is cooking ratatouille, bread pudding with ginger toffee, or some other deliciousness). The house dates back to at least 1595, the records before that were lost when the town was sacked in 1576, and when she moved in the only plumbing was a sink underneath the window to the right of the door, all cooking had been done in the fire.

I love row houses because I love town noise, and my mom’s house is so accessible when someone drops by for a visit, but my dream house would be a ‘portland’, a row house with a long strip of garden behind. I recently stayed in a beautiful example of that in a medieval town outside London while visiting relatives (including my most adored aunt and uncle who are fixing up a barge in the gorgeous port of Sandwich), the garden was 40+ feet wide and 630 feet long, on a south-facing slope with orchard, pond and nuttery. Perfection. An upscale version, built 70 years after the one I stayed in, is Rothe House in Kilkenny, which has been restored and opened as a museum. It would be great to be part of a project like that, they did such a good job on the gardens and orchard, and next time I’ll definitely spend more time in their library.

90%

This is one of the pieces that doesn’t seem to be quite finished, but I’m not sure what it needs. I keep going across the room to look at it, but the solution has not jumped out at me, so I will let it sit a while then try again. It’s funny how time can change what one sees in a work.

I am listening to a frog out in the woods while I work but the birds are quiet now. I’m going to take a dozen of the apples weighing down the trees out back and make a crisp, then take the fiendish hounds for a long run on a trail nearby, they weren’t with me for the last two months of travelling and the one I adopted last year didn’t do so well with the separation (she stopped eating and lost a lot of fur). The dogs I’ve rescued from shelters seem to do worse when I’m away, plus she is a dominant dog and doesn’t like the boss being absent, so long walks now that I’m back are essential.

Hopefully the time outside will be enough so that I can look at the pieces I’m unsure about and know what they need.

entry

My three+ months of travel will come to an end soon, it’s odd making that transition from mobile to stationary. No more thinking about which stamps to use, or how much money to exchange, and no scramble to get Ryan Air boarding passes printed to avoid a penalty at the airport that is bigger than my ticket cost. Post-travel life always feels so quiet, too quiet, but it will be nice to have predictable internet access, plus it’s easier to cook in my own kitchen. Except that I love to eat but am not that wild about cooking, so I don’t care about that last one. Oh well.

In these last weeks I’m getting a bit of work done, but I have several pieces that I am 90% happy with and can’t decide what the missing 10% is, very frustrating.

Galina

I’m never sure whether I should write on bad days, but I’m thinking that until I get enough distance to make it sounds funny it’s probably best not to, eh?

It was nothing horrible, I’m just a delicate flower when it comes to a few certain things. Well, ok, I’m a delicate flower that lifts heavy weights and skilfully wields a pick-axe, but other than that…

stairway

I have to do some writing about my work and I’m dreading it. I don’t feel very articulate about what I do, and I don’t have a clear idea of what people want to know about me or my art. I did brainstorm a list of stuff about the work I’m currently doing, maybe I need a ghost-writer to shape it. I wonder if people still hire ghost-writers, it seems such an old-fashioned term.

I’m not a writer at heart (I used to say I avoid writing the way I avoid cutting myself with knives, that is, sometimes it happens despite my best efforts), so it has surprised me how much I enjoy publishing a blog, but my posts do tend to be pretty brief.