Sunday, February 26, 2012
Leap Day is coming...slip-sliding into our lives on Wednesday February 29th. It’s a gentle fabrication poked into our schedules every four years to let the world and calendar makers get square with earth’s 365 and ¼ day annual circuit around the sun. Some might call it a day of cosmic drift or a 24-hour free ride in deep space. Slippage corrected.
My friend Ruth Schowalter will be in the art show, “Correcting for Drift” with the opening on, you guessed it, this Wednesday, Leap Day at Georgia Perimeter College in Clarkston. http://www.facebook.com/groups/76015195632/doc/10150568020720633/
Ruth’s eponymous piece, “Correcting for Drift”, reveals a threshold into a dreamy oceanic world of biological and mythical beings. I thank her for tickling my imagination about this cosmic day.
Earth and I will be calm on Wednesday. Relaxed. I expect we’ll glide smoothly through the day–Me with some meditation, dog walking and the glacially slow, balanced moves of Tai Chi, and Earth with the precise mathematics of matter, velocity, and gravitational pull. Happy Free Falling Day!
Monday, February 20, 2012
It’s a pretty dull day when I turn to contemplations of boredom, but over my past twenty-one years of art making, boredom has become a useful friend. On this pre-packaged, two-for-one presidential shopping sale holiday, I thought I’d share some artwork steeped in boredom or its process. Last week I pulled out another of my 89 daily bathroom mirror portraits of feelings. This photo was Day#1–Bored, and with it the embroidered hankie version. Not much life in these two, but a valid lack-of-emotion worthy of depiction. Last week I painted an oil stick portrait of my boring face–a winning trifecta of feeling dull.
When inspiration escapes me, I’ll often use the method of boredom to break through to wild mind. Here’s how it works. 1.Pin up a dozen or more sheets of paper on the wall.
2.Spread out a variety of drawing and painting media at easy reach. 3.Determine a subject to draw and stick to it. 4.Set a timer for a few minutes...maybe 5 or 10, and hit the start button. 5.When the alarm rings, I must move to the second sheet of blank paper, reset the alarm, start a new drawing, and so on until I am thoroughly bored, and frustrated with the short time-frame, and the repetitive subject. What invariably happens is I begin by drawing familiar images, or sometimes small, controlled and logical images. As I am forced to leave each piece when the bell goes off, I grab different media and gradually begin to try new approaches and more daring colors. Usually by the last sheet, I’ve moved out of the area of boring to a bigger field of creativity by just surrendering, and letting it rip. I did not invent this. Someone explained it to me in the early 90’s. I am indebted to their boring brilliance.
Here are eight drawings of holes or tunnels that I drew last summer using my breakthrough boring method. I’ve numbered them 1-8 so you can see the progression of loosening up. It works better than a glass of wine. My question to myself is, do I like the first one, last one or someplace in the middle?
Saturday, February 11, 2012
I missed Valentine’s Day for this post, but it's never too late to honor a day devoted to matters of the heart–a symbol that keeps erupting in my artwork. Let’s hear it for love, courage, life, sympathy, compassion, sincerity, strength, hearty, heartfelt, and even heartsick–all straight from the heart.
I’m staying away these days from the Catholic Sacred Heart–symbol of suffering, self-sacrifice, and sadness. Let me not knock on that door today. It resides within, but buried deep inside.
Last week I finished an oil stick self-portrait on paper entitled Loved. It’s me as a heart loved by my family and friends.
This portrait began in 2010 as a photo I shot in my bathroom mirror entitled Day #80, from 89 days of examining my feeling of the moment, and writing it in lipstick on my forehead. Another way of asking...Who Am I?
Later I printed the mirrored-mirror image of my reflected face on one of my vintage hankies that I wore as a kid in the little breast pocket of my Catholic school uniform jumper.
Dear heart, I’ve depicted you in drawings and paintings, embroideries, clothing, dolls, wings and portraits. Thank you for persistently beating.
6 1/2” x 6 1/2”
Embroidery floss on vintage linen
Heart Sick, ©2010
7 1/4” x 7 1/4”
Embroidery floss on vintage linen
The Bravery Jacket, ©2007
Acrylic on wool twill, aluminum buttons, braiding, yarn, gauze, nails and threads.
A Joyful Heart, ©2003
8" x 13" x 3"
Fabric, acrylic, found objects and polymer clay
Interwoven Hearts, ©2011
18 1/2 " x 22 1/4"
Charcoal and pastel on paper
Pangea Heart Holes, ©2011
11" x 14"
Charcoal, pastel and conté on paper
See Little Cece's heartbeat at
Saturday, February 4, 2012
to the HEIGHTS into a HOLE
JUMP HIGH JUMP DEEP
KICK OUT KNOCK DOWN
MAINTAINING MOMENTUM MISSING THE MARK
out of the NEST into the NIGHT
PASSING a PLANE
W I D E S P R E A D
W I N G S P A N
W I N D I N G D O W N
to the ZENITH from ground ZERO