color in different media

An artist colleague, Donne Bitner, recently introduced me to a new surface medium. It is apparently used by sculptors, but Donne recommended applying it to board. It appears to be extremely hard, tougher and less delicate than molding paste, gesso or joint compound. The resulting texture is fascinating. I created a few pieces using this technique, applying layers of acrylic, pencil and graphite atop the hardened surfaces. Here are two examples.















After doodling into these small pieces (they measure no larger than 12" in any one direction), I yearned to return to painting large. Working rapidly, I produced this large acrylic piece: again the jury is still out on whether it is completed, but I think that I'll let it rest for a bit.

Matter(s)

I love interesting words like palindrome (words or phrases that read the same backwards and forwards), or pangram (sentences that use every letter of the alphabet). So, like Pat, I'm being a bit influenced by an odd little book titled, Ella Minnow Pea, by Mark Dunn. I've been using titles for this series of pieces that refer to the ways people communicate, especially through spoken language and my interest has gone further into language itself. If you'll scroll back through the blog, you'll see some works in progress from around mid-summer. Here are these two pieces completed, they are:

Palindrome

and Pangram

In Palindrome, I couldn't decide which way the piece read the best and kept flipping the various parts around to see different views, and with Pangram, it appears that I used every material and technique available, each piece suggests the meaning of each of these quirky little words.

And finally, at long last, here is a piece that originally started with Pat (a large acrylic sketch on linen), I cut it up and stitched on a smaller piece, then I embedded it between two oil panels. A true visual conversation between the two of us. The stitchery is so delicate that it is difficult to see in this picture. Join our blog and send me a message and I'll send you an image that is easier to see in detail. (Not titled yet, but it has something to do with either long distance communication or two-way communication.)

Water

I have been spending some time in, on and near the water this past summer. My colleague Fran and her fellow professor, Lisa, introduced me to an author while in South Carolina. Carol Goodman captures the magic and allure of the sea and large bodies of water. Having completed The Lake of Dead Languages, which Fran loaned to me in June, I wanted to read more of Goodman's work and am now savoring The Seduction of Water. If you enjoy folklore or fairy tales, writing and have some familiarity with NYC and upstate New York (or want to visit there some day), you'll enjoy these novels.



In The Seduction of Water, Goodman weaves a tale about an author and part-time teacher, whose own mother (also an author) told her a bewitching tale about selkies before leaving her when she was ten-years-old. These "seal women" were credited with captivating men with their beauty and voices, transforming themselves between seals and women. So enchanted by her childhood fairytale, I painted To Lure A Selkie yesterday in our studio, but haven't yet decided what more needs to be done. Suggestions, anyone?

Person with a Braid--Cheryl Bogdanowitsch

Here I am once again putting a clay head on a log or branch, this one really seems to go with the log, the face with a singing mouth and the opening in the log. The braid was a lucky find, wish I had more pieces of wood like that.

expanding horizons

I'm newly returned from a workshop (i.e., session with my art coach, Steve Aimone) at New Smyrna Beach, FL's hidden gem: Atlantic Center for the Arts. This workshop focused on moving us yet another step forward in our process. I and eight other artists ventured forward and accepted challenges given us, absorbing the critiques of our colleagues and coach, pushing the envelope.

A few photos of different images from this workshop are attached. Once again, my work is in progress: these pieces may not look like this tomorrow. At one point, midweek and when I was nursing a bad sinus headache, an unknown child whose image had been haunting my dreams for more than two weeks was rendered into a large piece (about 50"). I don't know who she is, but she now exists on canvas...and my dreams of her stopped. After this day, I resumed a more playful method that I most enjoy in painting, incorporating language and iconography that are significant to us, to me and to our common history. A photo of me with the illusive toddler and other symbolic pieces is included here.

I have embraced a new road for myself in creating art. There is something very exciting about positive change.

Missing in Action

The summer is flying by and our show (in March) feels like it is zooming towards me in fast forward. I've finally gotten all the various parts completed and assembled on some pieces that have been hanging around the studio for a while. The "pieces" of these pieces are becoming more and more complex, I think of them as various voices having conversations.

Areas of the pieces are becoming highly decorative (I read several books by Carol Goodman this summer and in one she writes about the work of William Morris) so I started integrating this type of printed pattern in the stitchery sections. Here is one in progress.

The overall piece has six panels. Here is how they are configured (at this point), that could change.

And finally, I completed this very RED piece and I am quite happy with it.

art therapy

Art is life for me. It is my therapy, but also often my frustration. Have you ever struggled to find an answer to a puzzle or the secret ingredient in a tasty dish that you're trying to duplicate? It's elusive, but once you think that you've found the answer, you savor that small victory (at least until the next challenge comes along).

A case in point is this painting. I started the usual way: by writing, responding to music (in this case, some wonderful Ukrainian ballads about Spring and Summer love), and working into a compositional format. I thought of the luscious colors of June and July, and selected a limited palette. I started painting into my words, some of which were lyrics from Cheremshyna. Two colleagues in my communal studio felt that I was painting a bouquet, hardly something that I would normally paint. But they seemed to have something there, so I went with it. When nearly done, a few colleagues pointed out that the vase containing the flowers seemed to be "floating." Thanks to my pals and mentors, Melissa Mason, Fran Gardner and Peter Cerreta, possible solutions were developed and this painting resulted. Reluctantly, we have to brand it a "still life." But here it is for now: For You.