January

What comes to mind when you think of January? For several of my friends, January has become a month of play and experimentation in the studio. They've given themselves permission to wonder what if and then to pursue the thought wherever it leads.

For me, January is a time of refocusing. Time to take stock and decide what to keep,

what to purge or repurpose, what to listen to.

The tea bags are fairly singing these days.

It is also a time to simplify. My new waiting = stitching series embodies this. What began as an experiment in embracing chaos and the wabi sabi-ness of life has quickly become one my favorite creative endeavors.

And then there's the January sun that demands one to stop and admire it as it streams through the windows and reflects off the snow. We scraped through with only 14 or so inches as compared to my brother's 30+.

January will soon be turning into February and I'll pause to wonder just how we got to February already? After all, it was just New Year's Day a few days ago...

Perspective

It all depends on how you look at it.

Is it better to see the whole?

Or the details?

Little by little, slightly shifting focus?

Should it be this way?

Or that?

2014

Today was to be a studio day. Alas Mother Nature and the school system had other ideas. We've 3-5 inches of the white stuff forecast so the powers-that-be decided today is a snow day. My little urchins will no doubt be thrilled. Me...well...another word comes to mind. Anyone care to hazard a guess at what it might be?

Toward the end of last year, I decided that 2014 was to be a year to focus and finish. (hmmm...2 f words and nice ones at that! Who knew?)

You see, I once was an artist who worked and sold seriously - professionally, you might say. That was with my weavings. Of course, it took years to get to that point, but still, I've been there and want to be there again.

I need to focus - both on the business side of art and on creating my art. In exploring various surface design techniques (which is just too much fun), I've come to realize that a large part of the joy, for me, comes from the process itself and can be quite addictive at times.

I'll work and work and finally stand back to realize that yards of fabric have been produced. And then a little voice in my brain says, Just what are you going to do with all of this?

Of course, the same holds true for photos I take. At brunch yesterday, I took a photo of the empty tables beside us. The sunlight was having a wonderful time creating shadows and reflections among the simple arrangement.

After showing my husband the shot, he said that I should be stock photographer. Hmm...perhaps. Or perhaps I'll explore Blurb and see what happens there.

Another venue for focus is to open an Etsy shop. It's in the works and will open this month. There's the matter of a 7th birthday party to finish planning and prepping before that happens though.

And then there's a web site that needs creating. Not from scratch. Haven't the time nor the inclination nor the know-how. I quite like the platform that Christine and Lotta used called Squarespace.

That brings us to finish. At the 3rd Annual Artist Retreat, all the rusted fabrics from that winter's rusting season were shipped to Pam's. The goal was to come away with ideas for at least 5 pieces. Instead, the number was 17. How many have been completed? Zero. There are 2 that keep whispering to me and that I feel I am now capable of making.

Should I mention the mono prints from the 2nd annual artist retreat? Those are waiting too.

Stay tuned. 2014 is going to be interesting...and hopefully very productive.

Half the air in a given space

I'm in Cleveland, Ohio this weekend to take a botanical alchemy workshop with India Flint. I'm expecting the workshop to be fun, a bit of hard work, interesting and maybe even a tad enlightening. To be honest with you, the workshop is going to have to be pretty special to be the highlight of the weekend though. I know. I know. I hear the groans. How could I say that, right? Well...

The Cleveland Museum of Art has an exhibit in the Glass Box in the East Wing that is not to be missed. Martin Creed's Work No. 965: Half the air in a given space is a room filled with purple latex balloons.
 
The title points to space and air manifested as breath and volume. “It is important to me,” says Creed, “that the situation is normal, that, as usual, the space is full of air; it’s just that half of it [is] inside the balloons.” With the balloons above and below the viewer’s eye level, the mass is neither impenetrable nor heavy; rather, it coexists with people.  [from the CMOA's web site]

After reading about the exhibit and seeing the photos, I set off for the museum. Once there, seeing how big the Glass Box is - 3 sides are glass, one is concrete - seeing the mass of purple balloons in the room, seeing how dark the middle is, thinking that it must be nearly impossible to move or breath or see midst the balloons and hearing the docent tell other visitors that if they are claustrophobic to rethink going in or to stay along the window walls...well, I reconsidered.

I stood there, watching others quickly slip in and become lost in the balloons. Their shouts to each other could be heard as could their laughter. Their progress could be followed by watching for the displacement of balloons.

Still...I stood there...thinking...wanting to go in...feeling it impossible...what if a panic attack set in...what if...what if I left the museum without having experienced this room full of purple balloons? Would I regret it? Yes.

Remember my mantras? Just do it. Focus. No fear. Yes. They came in very handy yesterday.
Pam - you know what else I was thinking. After Tuesday, this was a piece of cake.

So, with camera in hand and arms extended over my head as instructed, I quickly slipped into the exhibit.

Honestly, once in and taking photos, it was such a thrill! The sensation of being encompassed by balloons...by air, yet being able to simply push the air out of your way, being able to see through the layers of color...aah it was exquisite. Every now and then, I'd switch the camera to video. Should one be posted later? Let me know.

This...this simple room half filled with balloons that covered my head and encompassed my body is the highlight of the weekend. Sorry India, but it is.

Now, time to get ready for the workshop. Wonder how late the museum is open on Saturdays? Might just need to go back to play.

3rd Annual Artist Retreat - Friday part 1

Friday was a day of accomplishments. A day of what ifs, just do it, keep it simple, focus and crop it. All my mantras [plus a new one] rolled into one delicious day.

 Friday morning's screensaver compliments of Pam's husband. 

 A bit of rusty tea exploration on paper.

 Figuring out what to do with these.

Pam's first completed piece outside the annex.

2 lengths of 16 feet each drying inside.

 My view from the shared work table. 

Love the play of the colors.

 Pam's luscious water fabric.

 Feather from Julie. 

 Light and shadows.

 A sliver of sunlight gracing my rusts.

 The sound of water moving will be missed.

Need one in my studio.

 Hmmm....what to do?

 Crop it.

 Then crop it again.

Esmerelda approved.

Green tea #1

 Green tea #1 is now 3

 My halogens [photo above] need to be replaced with sunlight or color correct lights.

Isn't the color here wonderful?

 Pam's water fabric stretched on canvases.

 My rusty remnants after going on a tear

and cropping oh! so many.

 3 rusty thread nests for Jeanne

135 rusty squares of varying sizes waiting to be stretched onto canvases