I've been meeting a lot of artists lately, and having some very interesting conversations. Some of these conversations are very intriguing and gives me something to think about or even better, inspires me to draw more. Like Connie Fiore's "First Light of Day".
View at http://www.artformobility.org/What shes working on now.html
Connie is a mouth painter and member of the Art Gallery of Viera. I met her recently, at the "Art of Romance" reception. http://www.Artgalleryofviera.com/ The thing that intrigued me most about Connie, was that scintillating light in her eyes, that gave witness to the incredible power of her creative spirit, inhibiting each and every human being, but especially in her eyes that evening.
But, sometimes, Artists and their conversations just make me angry. An artist recently stated, "That art is just wrong!" Of course, I have to ask myself, what about this conversation makes me feel like I've just been affronted?
The first thing that comes to my mind is the attitude of the person/artist, are they into power and control? Are their comments made from condescension? From a holier than thou mind set? My art is better than your art, nanny nanny boo boo, kind of attitude?
Artists and attitudes remind me of an article I read recently, maybe it'll explain things. This interesting piece was written about James Joyce, author,(1882-1941), and his opinion of Art. James Joyce was to modern literature what Picasso was to modern art. http://www.naz.typepad.com/nazdance/2008/11/james-joyces-definition-of-art.html
"In his novel, "Portrait of the Artist as a young man" James Joyce analyzes what makes art "art". James Joyce has thus defined art for himself. He defines Proper Art as art that fulfills the Function of Art. And, for him, that means either art that is Beautiful or Sublime. It is 'static' in that it stops you dead in your tracks and leaves you speechless!
Improper Art "moves" you to do something. And according to Joyce is not what art is 'supposed' to do. Two types of Improper Art:
1. Art that teaches
2. Art that moves you to do something you would not normally do.
That second item, he labels "pornography". It includes not only pornography; the depiction of erotic behavior as in pictures, writing, books or photographs, but the depiction of art in a sensational manner, so as to arouse a quick intense emotional reaction. (this indeed is the second definition in my Webster's dictionary)
So, that would include all propaganda, including all advertising, and all political, or socially conscious art that graphically depicts a cause".
Well, isn't Mr. Joyce rolling over in his grave? What with the Internet, and Direct TV, Cable TV, Advertising and the News Media? And what does that say about James Joyce himself? Smug? Condescending? Controlling? Judgmental? Or was he just kidding around?
Whatever you think, or I think, we all define 'art' in our own ways, and I think it much better to keep one's opinions about another artists art to themselves.
If I were to write a book, I'd title it, "What I think about your art, is none of your business" or "Your art looks like a hood ornament, get over it!" In the whole scope of life, Art just is...art.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Iconography
I'm not sure why posting a blog is becoming harder and harder. It isn't because I don't have anything to say. I think it's because I have too much to say, and that makes it harder to clarify my thoughts into a blog.
I did something old-fashioned last week, I attended a seminar at Holy Apostles Episcopal Church, in Satellite Beach, it's the church of my friend, Barbara Desrosiers. http://www.BarbaraDesrosiers.com/ Attending seminars isn't old-fashioned, what is outdated for me is going to church. I haven't attended church in quite awhile, and a very long time ago I used to be Catholic
Yes, I was brought up Catholic, and in the whole scope of life, I'm kinda glad I was. I think it is better to have had some religious upbringing than no religious upbringing. Hey, it's just my opinion, and as my good friend Eloise used to say, opinions are like ... and they all smell! ...I digress.
Being brought up Catholic, I was baptized, confirmed, went to parochial school, wore past the knee plaid skirts and saw nuns galore, and I have a fond memory of holy cards.
Those of you who may not be aware of Catholic mementos, holy cards are handed out at significant occasions, funerals, baptisms, and other occasions where we need reminders of the blessings and grace of our Holy Father and his mother, the Virgin Mary.
I used to like getting a holy card, it made me feel special. I have several kept as keepsakes, one was my Grandmother's, but most of the others are from funerals. At the seminar I saw an icon that reminded me of holy cards and it brought me to tears, literally.
The seminar was entitled, "Art as Prayer" and Barbara introduced me to Iconography, being the traditional images or symbols associated with world religions. http://www.artandpopularculture.com/Iconography
We were shown many icons, and the image that made me cry was of the 'Pieta', a representation of the Virgin Mary mourning over the dead body of Christ. http://www.augustinianpress.org/pieta-acrc-1u07.html It was her stoic sadness that pierced my heart.
Who can say why an Icon moves someone? Why did this particular image produce emotion in me and no one else? What could this feeling reveal about God and my life?
In my alone time I will be pondering this, and in the meantime, I have a new holy card. It's a memento of my Art in Prayer experience. It says, "If the eyes are the windows to the soul, and an icon is a window to heaven, go home, open the windows and let the Holy Spirit flow.
I did something old-fashioned last week, I attended a seminar at Holy Apostles Episcopal Church, in Satellite Beach, it's the church of my friend, Barbara Desrosiers. http://www.BarbaraDesrosiers.com/ Attending seminars isn't old-fashioned, what is outdated for me is going to church. I haven't attended church in quite awhile, and a very long time ago I used to be Catholic
Yes, I was brought up Catholic, and in the whole scope of life, I'm kinda glad I was. I think it is better to have had some religious upbringing than no religious upbringing. Hey, it's just my opinion, and as my good friend Eloise used to say, opinions are like ... and they all smell! ...I digress.
Being brought up Catholic, I was baptized, confirmed, went to parochial school, wore past the knee plaid skirts and saw nuns galore, and I have a fond memory of holy cards.
Those of you who may not be aware of Catholic mementos, holy cards are handed out at significant occasions, funerals, baptisms, and other occasions where we need reminders of the blessings and grace of our Holy Father and his mother, the Virgin Mary.
I used to like getting a holy card, it made me feel special. I have several kept as keepsakes, one was my Grandmother's, but most of the others are from funerals. At the seminar I saw an icon that reminded me of holy cards and it brought me to tears, literally.
The seminar was entitled, "Art as Prayer" and Barbara introduced me to Iconography, being the traditional images or symbols associated with world religions. http://www.artandpopularculture.com/Iconography
We were shown many icons, and the image that made me cry was of the 'Pieta', a representation of the Virgin Mary mourning over the dead body of Christ. http://www.augustinianpress.org/pieta-acrc-1u07.html It was her stoic sadness that pierced my heart.
In my alone time I will be pondering this, and in the meantime, I have a new holy card. It's a memento of my Art in Prayer experience. It says, "If the eyes are the windows to the soul, and an icon is a window to heaven, go home, open the windows and let the Holy Spirit flow.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Art gasmic!
I have been having so much fun lately, drawing, and it occurred to me that I haven't posted a blog in awhile, so I thought I better keep my followers in the loop, or else they won't follow me anymore!
I had an idea to help me produce a body of work, as that is what I learned in last summers Art Salon meetings. Build up a body of work. Good thing it isn't build MY body, because I'd never get around to that, it's too hard. Not my body, the building the body part! So, I let my idea simmer for awhile and I came up with a series to draw.
I would draw men in their hats. I love looking at men, I have to admit. I love looking at women and babies and people, but with so many people, I had to narrow it down a bit. So I started at home, with my wonderful husband.
My husband, Michael, has a nice hat, we picked it up at the Irish Shop in Cocoa Village last year. He looks really good in it too. So, I thought I'd start with him and the drawing turned out pretty good.
Originally, I wanted my graphite drawings to have one color in it. Like the Earrink drawing. But colored pencil is VERY hard for me at this point, to mix with graphite, especially on a scale of an entire hat. The earring wasn't too hard, but I didn't want to have pure colored pencil, at least not yet! I might explore that dimension later, for now though, I just want a hint of color.
So, I found some tinted charcoal! Yeah!
Boo! Hiss! Snarl! Charcoal is a beast to work with...it is so messy, it sticks to anything it touches, my fingers, the counter-top, and the floor. It gets on the floor when I have to erase and then whisk it off the paper.
You see, I have to use a whisk, because if I blow the charcoal off, little bits of spittle can mar the surface of the paper, and then it leaves little marks. I don't want that to happen, so I had a challenging time not only with the charcoal, but with the texture of the hat. It is a tweed and I've never duplicated tweed before.
But, it all turned out good. What was I so worried about? I'm finding out that artists worry A LOT about how their work is going to turn out. Sometimes I can get in the zone, and it doesn't matter if it turns out good, what matters is that I am putting down on the paper just what I like. When I'm not in the zone, I worry.
So, getting in the zone, and staying in the zone, that's my goal! My second drawing wasn't of a man, it was of my grandson, in a hat that I got him for winter. I was in the zone the whole time, and I love that drawing so much, I couldn't stop looking at it for the whole next day!
I have a name for the feeling I get when I make something that moves me, like this drawing did, it made me feel more than happy, I was ecstatic and glad and joyful all in the same minute, artgasmic!
Not all my drawings are artgasmic, but pretty darn close. I feel satisfied, proud of my accomplishment, happy. So, I am wondering why do I feel artgasmic with some, and not all? Something I'll be thinking about in the days to come, while I am completing my Men in Hat series.
My third drawing was of a friend of my daughter,Tim Yon. Tim has been over for dinner a few times, and one night he came over and had on his knit cap. I hope I didn't scare him, because I saw an opportunity right in my kitchen, Man in Hat! and I think I probably shouted, "Can I take your picture?"
He was a good sport, and said yes! I could take his picture to use for a drawing. It turned out good and he liked it so much when I posted it, he's using it as his Profile picture now. I think that is a huge compliment.
I saw a gentleman in the grocery store one day, he was wearing a leather cap. I loved it, and I said, "I like your hat." He said thanks and went about his way. Later, in the meat department, he approached me and asked if I knew how to fix some meat dish. I never heard of it, and he went on to explain how to fix it. I found out he was Greek, and he was making this Greek dish for his wife, for their dinner.
I couldn't resist telling him again that I liked his hat, and that I was doing a series of drawings of Men in Hats. "Could I take your picture?" I blurted out. He said "Yes". and then I realized I didn't have my camera. Boo Hoo! that would have been a killer drawing, seriously.
My most recent drawing is of the marketing director and curator at Pizza Gallery and Grill, a local 'not just' pizza place. www.pizzagalleryandgrill.com It is of Jamie Meagher, pronounced Marr, roll your r r r r's, it's Irish. I met Jamie when I answered a Call for Art, a posting in Facebook. He reviewed my skimpy portfolio and accepted my work in the Face to Face -an exhibition of Eclectic Portraits. I have 4 pieces in this show, go take a look before March 6th.
At the artist reception, Jamie had on a hat, and I knew right then and there he would be my next Man in a hat. I also spied another artist there, but you'll have to wait until my next blog to find out who will it will be.
I had an idea to help me produce a body of work, as that is what I learned in last summers Art Salon meetings. Build up a body of work. Good thing it isn't build MY body, because I'd never get around to that, it's too hard. Not my body, the building the body part! So, I let my idea simmer for awhile and I came up with a series to draw.
I would draw men in their hats. I love looking at men, I have to admit. I love looking at women and babies and people, but with so many people, I had to narrow it down a bit. So I started at home, with my wonderful husband.
My husband, Michael, has a nice hat, we picked it up at the Irish Shop in Cocoa Village last year. He looks really good in it too. So, I thought I'd start with him and the drawing turned out pretty good.
Originally, I wanted my graphite drawings to have one color in it. Like the Earrink drawing. But colored pencil is VERY hard for me at this point, to mix with graphite, especially on a scale of an entire hat. The earring wasn't too hard, but I didn't want to have pure colored pencil, at least not yet! I might explore that dimension later, for now though, I just want a hint of color.
So, I found some tinted charcoal! Yeah!
Boo! Hiss! Snarl! Charcoal is a beast to work with...it is so messy, it sticks to anything it touches, my fingers, the counter-top, and the floor. It gets on the floor when I have to erase and then whisk it off the paper.
You see, I have to use a whisk, because if I blow the charcoal off, little bits of spittle can mar the surface of the paper, and then it leaves little marks. I don't want that to happen, so I had a challenging time not only with the charcoal, but with the texture of the hat. It is a tweed and I've never duplicated tweed before.
But, it all turned out good. What was I so worried about? I'm finding out that artists worry A LOT about how their work is going to turn out. Sometimes I can get in the zone, and it doesn't matter if it turns out good, what matters is that I am putting down on the paper just what I like. When I'm not in the zone, I worry.
So, getting in the zone, and staying in the zone, that's my goal! My second drawing wasn't of a man, it was of my grandson, in a hat that I got him for winter. I was in the zone the whole time, and I love that drawing so much, I couldn't stop looking at it for the whole next day!
I have a name for the feeling I get when I make something that moves me, like this drawing did, it made me feel more than happy, I was ecstatic and glad and joyful all in the same minute, artgasmic!
Not all my drawings are artgasmic, but pretty darn close. I feel satisfied, proud of my accomplishment, happy. So, I am wondering why do I feel artgasmic with some, and not all? Something I'll be thinking about in the days to come, while I am completing my Men in Hat series.
My third drawing was of a friend of my daughter,Tim Yon. Tim has been over for dinner a few times, and one night he came over and had on his knit cap. I hope I didn't scare him, because I saw an opportunity right in my kitchen, Man in Hat! and I think I probably shouted, "Can I take your picture?"
He was a good sport, and said yes! I could take his picture to use for a drawing. It turned out good and he liked it so much when I posted it, he's using it as his Profile picture now. I think that is a huge compliment.
I saw a gentleman in the grocery store one day, he was wearing a leather cap. I loved it, and I said, "I like your hat." He said thanks and went about his way. Later, in the meat department, he approached me and asked if I knew how to fix some meat dish. I never heard of it, and he went on to explain how to fix it. I found out he was Greek, and he was making this Greek dish for his wife, for their dinner.
I couldn't resist telling him again that I liked his hat, and that I was doing a series of drawings of Men in Hats. "Could I take your picture?" I blurted out. He said "Yes". and then I realized I didn't have my camera. Boo Hoo! that would have been a killer drawing, seriously.
My most recent drawing is of the marketing director and curator at Pizza Gallery and Grill, a local 'not just' pizza place. www.pizzagalleryandgrill.com It is of Jamie Meagher, pronounced Marr, roll your r r r r's, it's Irish. I met Jamie when I answered a Call for Art, a posting in Facebook. He reviewed my skimpy portfolio and accepted my work in the Face to Face -an exhibition of Eclectic Portraits. I have 4 pieces in this show, go take a look before March 6th.
Monday, January 17, 2011
The next level II
I'm going to have to quit drinking so much coffee because when everyone else in the house is fast asleep, I'm not. And I think it's from the caffeine in my morning cups of coffee. Last year I had weaned myself off the stuff, and then Michael and I went to Panama.
Panama has the BEST coffee. We even toured a coffee plantation and I was amazed with that small little bean. I even learned that the first coffee plant was smuggled out of Arabia, and eventually ended up in Panama and other far flung places. It's funny, too, that the floaters, the coffee beans that float when they are washed, are not so good, and these beans are sold to the mega coffee makers, like Folgers and Maxwell House!
But, I digress. I want to talk about my Zuma game and how it has helped me get to the next level. Playing Zuma for me is a way to let my mind wander and wonder about trivial things. I may have described this game to you before, but I'm gonna tell you about it again, just in case. I am in no way promoting the sale of this game by the way, just letting you know why I play it.
I shoot colored balls out of the mouth of this funky looking frog. The graphics are colorful and humorous and the balls are different colors, and while one ball is in the mouth of the little froggy another one is in his hind end, so I can see both balls and determine which one I want to shoot because I'm shooting at other colored balls. If I see two balls of the same color and I have one of those colors in my frog, then I shoot and they disappear. Of course I get points for this, but best of all, if I beat the clock, I get another life.
When I first started playing this game, I would sit here for a very long time trying to figure out what to do. The first level wasn't too hard, and the second level wasn't hard either. But when I'd get to the third level I just couldn't seem to beat it. grrrrrrr I hate when I get beat by a stupid game, especialy after I watched Grandma's boy. In that movie these really nerdy guys sat around and created games like Zuma.
The only way to beat the game was to get serious about winning. At the end of the level that kept whipping me was this monster like face that would eat my frog, and I hated when that happened. I wanted to kick that monster to kingdom come.
When my daughter told me I was addicted to the game, I had to agree with her! I was caffeinated, I'm sure. But I wanted to explore why I just had to play this game whenever I could, so I began to listen to my inner dialogue while playing, just to see what the heck was so appealing to me.
I heard things like, "I'm going faster now"
"I'm playing better"
"I'm learning what to do next"
"I like being a winner"
"I can't win them all"
"Stay calm"
"Shoot straight"
"I love feeling successful"
"I love it when it plays out like that"
"I love this game"
"I hate this game"
"Wonder why they all can't happen like that"
"Sometimes I have to stop and take a break"
It's amazing that after I heard what kind of things I was telling myself while playing this silly game, I realized it paralells what is happening with my art work. Those who are in my art circles know that I have been learning how to get to the next level, and by God, it's working! I'm in the Gallery, I'm in an art show, and I'm continuing to draw and teach drawing classes. Wow! This time last year I was on medication and coming out of a year long bout of depression.
I have finally beat the Zuma game. The first time was incredible, I was so proud of myself! Imagine me sitting at my computer monitor at 1:30 a.m. chuckling to myself, "I won, I won!" The next game I played I won again, and each game since then I've aced.
I think it's good for me to play Zuma, especially when I see how it relates to the other good things in my life right now. Hey, we all know I've had some bad patches in my life, and who really knows what the future holds? I can hope and I can pray, but living in the moment and enjoying a game feels fun and feeling fun helps me to feel young.
Giving myself positive affirmations is also therapeutic. It's been a struggle at different times in my life to say them and really believe them. I used to put post-it notes all over the mirror in my bathroom, to remind myself that I am worthy, that I am lovable. It seems like all these years later I've found a way to use these self-esteem tools, they haven't rusted at all, and it's my guess that it's all gonna help me reach the next level. Zuma!
Panama has the BEST coffee. We even toured a coffee plantation and I was amazed with that small little bean. I even learned that the first coffee plant was smuggled out of Arabia, and eventually ended up in Panama and other far flung places. It's funny, too, that the floaters, the coffee beans that float when they are washed, are not so good, and these beans are sold to the mega coffee makers, like Folgers and Maxwell House!
But, I digress. I want to talk about my Zuma game and how it has helped me get to the next level. Playing Zuma for me is a way to let my mind wander and wonder about trivial things. I may have described this game to you before, but I'm gonna tell you about it again, just in case. I am in no way promoting the sale of this game by the way, just letting you know why I play it.
I shoot colored balls out of the mouth of this funky looking frog. The graphics are colorful and humorous and the balls are different colors, and while one ball is in the mouth of the little froggy another one is in his hind end, so I can see both balls and determine which one I want to shoot because I'm shooting at other colored balls. If I see two balls of the same color and I have one of those colors in my frog, then I shoot and they disappear. Of course I get points for this, but best of all, if I beat the clock, I get another life.
When I first started playing this game, I would sit here for a very long time trying to figure out what to do. The first level wasn't too hard, and the second level wasn't hard either. But when I'd get to the third level I just couldn't seem to beat it. grrrrrrr I hate when I get beat by a stupid game, especialy after I watched Grandma's boy. In that movie these really nerdy guys sat around and created games like Zuma.
The only way to beat the game was to get serious about winning. At the end of the level that kept whipping me was this monster like face that would eat my frog, and I hated when that happened. I wanted to kick that monster to kingdom come.
When my daughter told me I was addicted to the game, I had to agree with her! I was caffeinated, I'm sure. But I wanted to explore why I just had to play this game whenever I could, so I began to listen to my inner dialogue while playing, just to see what the heck was so appealing to me.
I heard things like, "I'm going faster now"
"I'm playing better"
"I'm learning what to do next"
"I like being a winner"
"I can't win them all"
"Stay calm"
"Shoot straight"
"I love feeling successful"
"I love it when it plays out like that"
"I love this game"
"I hate this game"
"Wonder why they all can't happen like that"
"Sometimes I have to stop and take a break"
It's amazing that after I heard what kind of things I was telling myself while playing this silly game, I realized it paralells what is happening with my art work. Those who are in my art circles know that I have been learning how to get to the next level, and by God, it's working! I'm in the Gallery, I'm in an art show, and I'm continuing to draw and teach drawing classes. Wow! This time last year I was on medication and coming out of a year long bout of depression.
I have finally beat the Zuma game. The first time was incredible, I was so proud of myself! Imagine me sitting at my computer monitor at 1:30 a.m. chuckling to myself, "I won, I won!" The next game I played I won again, and each game since then I've aced.
I think it's good for me to play Zuma, especially when I see how it relates to the other good things in my life right now. Hey, we all know I've had some bad patches in my life, and who really knows what the future holds? I can hope and I can pray, but living in the moment and enjoying a game feels fun and feeling fun helps me to feel young.
Giving myself positive affirmations is also therapeutic. It's been a struggle at different times in my life to say them and really believe them. I used to put post-it notes all over the mirror in my bathroom, to remind myself that I am worthy, that I am lovable. It seems like all these years later I've found a way to use these self-esteem tools, they haven't rusted at all, and it's my guess that it's all gonna help me reach the next level. Zuma!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The next level
By request from one of my faithful followers, is my first blog for 2011. It is incredible how fast the time is flying by, the holidays are over and the new year has begun, with a BANG!
Last blog, I was accepted at the Art Gallery of Viera, as a working commission artist, and I thought that was big news. I don't know if I ever shared with you that being accepted into a gallery has been on my bucket list for a very long time, but I never knew "how". I learned more about "how" during my art salon meetings last year. www.artgalleryofviera.com
Check out my web page at the gallery!
The art salon meetings prompted me to look at what I can do already, not what I'd like to do. Which got me thinking about drawing. I took lessons years ago and drew a few really nice things, which have hung on the walls in my house all this time.
So, it was researching graphite artists that inspired me to draw again, and the picture I took of Annabelle had so much feeling wrapped up in it, that I knew when I looked at that particular photo that it was 'the one'. The Earrink drawing is now hanging in the Pizza Gallery in the 'Face to Face" portrait exhibit, along with 3 others. www.pizzagalleryandgrill.com Another thing on my bucket list! Yes, I could die tomorrow and be happy that I've finally accomplished two major things, but I hope I don't...
...Because, I've got a series of drawings in mind that I want to do. Men in Hats...yes, any of you readers that are men, and have a favorite hat that you love to wear, and would let me make a drawing of you in it, just let me know. I have 4 photos to start with, but I need more....many more. How many makes a series? Enough to have my own show that's how many I need!
Oh, by the way, I almost didn't make it to that 'Face to Face' show. It seems like I had it in my mind that the art drop off was on Jan. 3rd, from 8 to 10. So on Jan. 2nd, around 10 pm I was dressed in my pajamas, and checked my email before going to bed. Thank God I did because there was an email telling me that the drop off was over and why hadn't I brought my art in? Was there a misunderstanding?
Misunderstanding?! I called Jamie on his cell phone and assured him that I'd temporarily lost my mind, and that I would bring my work in right away. I hung up the phone and I started shouting and running around the house, trying to get my artwork in the carry all and out the door. I got there in the nick of time, even if I did still have my pajamas and slippers on! Whew, that was a close one. But things on a bucket list need to get done, even in pj's.
Okay, I told my girlfriend, Jean, that I would blog about something that happened at Christmas many years ago. We were living on the 5 acres in Canaveral Groves at the time. I used to call it the ranch, until my daughter said, "it wasn't really a ranch" and I had to agree with her. We had a couple of barns and a couple of horses, but that didn't really make it a ranch...anyway, Michael and I were preparing ourselves for an empty nest soon. The girls were just about ready to leave the house and start out on their own.
I don't know if that might be the reason, preparing for a big change, but what I do know is that Michael started to hoard cans of spinach. Popeye spinach, Publix brand spinach, Del Monte, it didn't matter what kind, he just started buying cans of spinach. Like 5 at a time, twice a week. He would eat the spinach, but he was buying more than he was eating.
What makes it more interesting is that he didn't want anybody else to eat his spinach. Eat anything, except his spinach.
So Christmas comes, like it always does, and the day before somebody ate Michael's spinach, and he had a mini meltdown about it. I don't know about you all, but when Daddy has a melt down, everybody knows it, even if they aren't in the room at the time. The word of Dad's meltdown swept the family totem pole like wild fire. Those were the days before texting so they actually had to talk to each other! Ha
The kids gathered all his cans of spinach, wrapped each one in a tissue and put them all in a Christmas bag, with a bow on it. When Daddy opened his bag and began to unwrap all those cans of spinach, his face was alight with pure joy! More spinach to add to his collection! Yeah!
I can't remember who told him, but when he found out that they had wrapped up his own cans of spinach, it was a sad and pitiful expression. He stopped hoarding spinach after that.
I don't know about you guys, but that story still cracks me up! Maybe you had to have been there, I don't know. You tell me!
Okay, it's starting to get late, and I don't want to have any of my readers nodding off because of my long winded tales, so I'll just tease you about the upcoming blog, which will be titled "The next level II".
You see I was going to talk about my Zuma game and what I've found out about myself while playing it, but I had to catch you all up on what's been happening. Oh, and by then this really unique art experience/photo shoot should have happened, and I can spill the beans about that too! So I'll see you soon.
Last blog, I was accepted at the Art Gallery of Viera, as a working commission artist, and I thought that was big news. I don't know if I ever shared with you that being accepted into a gallery has been on my bucket list for a very long time, but I never knew "how". I learned more about "how" during my art salon meetings last year. www.artgalleryofviera.com
Check out my web page at the gallery!
The art salon meetings prompted me to look at what I can do already, not what I'd like to do. Which got me thinking about drawing. I took lessons years ago and drew a few really nice things, which have hung on the walls in my house all this time.
So, it was researching graphite artists that inspired me to draw again, and the picture I took of Annabelle had so much feeling wrapped up in it, that I knew when I looked at that particular photo that it was 'the one'. The Earrink drawing is now hanging in the Pizza Gallery in the 'Face to Face" portrait exhibit, along with 3 others. www.pizzagalleryandgrill.com Another thing on my bucket list! Yes, I could die tomorrow and be happy that I've finally accomplished two major things, but I hope I don't...
...Because, I've got a series of drawings in mind that I want to do. Men in Hats...yes, any of you readers that are men, and have a favorite hat that you love to wear, and would let me make a drawing of you in it, just let me know. I have 4 photos to start with, but I need more....many more. How many makes a series? Enough to have my own show that's how many I need!
Oh, by the way, I almost didn't make it to that 'Face to Face' show. It seems like I had it in my mind that the art drop off was on Jan. 3rd, from 8 to 10. So on Jan. 2nd, around 10 pm I was dressed in my pajamas, and checked my email before going to bed. Thank God I did because there was an email telling me that the drop off was over and why hadn't I brought my art in? Was there a misunderstanding?
Misunderstanding?! I called Jamie on his cell phone and assured him that I'd temporarily lost my mind, and that I would bring my work in right away. I hung up the phone and I started shouting and running around the house, trying to get my artwork in the carry all and out the door. I got there in the nick of time, even if I did still have my pajamas and slippers on! Whew, that was a close one. But things on a bucket list need to get done, even in pj's.
Okay, I told my girlfriend, Jean, that I would blog about something that happened at Christmas many years ago. We were living on the 5 acres in Canaveral Groves at the time. I used to call it the ranch, until my daughter said, "it wasn't really a ranch" and I had to agree with her. We had a couple of barns and a couple of horses, but that didn't really make it a ranch...anyway, Michael and I were preparing ourselves for an empty nest soon. The girls were just about ready to leave the house and start out on their own.
I don't know if that might be the reason, preparing for a big change, but what I do know is that Michael started to hoard cans of spinach. Popeye spinach, Publix brand spinach, Del Monte, it didn't matter what kind, he just started buying cans of spinach. Like 5 at a time, twice a week. He would eat the spinach, but he was buying more than he was eating.
What makes it more interesting is that he didn't want anybody else to eat his spinach. Eat anything, except his spinach.
So Christmas comes, like it always does, and the day before somebody ate Michael's spinach, and he had a mini meltdown about it. I don't know about you all, but when Daddy has a melt down, everybody knows it, even if they aren't in the room at the time. The word of Dad's meltdown swept the family totem pole like wild fire. Those were the days before texting so they actually had to talk to each other! Ha
The kids gathered all his cans of spinach, wrapped each one in a tissue and put them all in a Christmas bag, with a bow on it. When Daddy opened his bag and began to unwrap all those cans of spinach, his face was alight with pure joy! More spinach to add to his collection! Yeah!
I can't remember who told him, but when he found out that they had wrapped up his own cans of spinach, it was a sad and pitiful expression. He stopped hoarding spinach after that.
I don't know about you guys, but that story still cracks me up! Maybe you had to have been there, I don't know. You tell me!
Okay, it's starting to get late, and I don't want to have any of my readers nodding off because of my long winded tales, so I'll just tease you about the upcoming blog, which will be titled "The next level II".
You see I was going to talk about my Zuma game and what I've found out about myself while playing it, but I had to catch you all up on what's been happening. Oh, and by then this really unique art experience/photo shoot should have happened, and I can spill the beans about that too! So I'll see you soon.
Monday, December 6, 2010
An Artist's Life
Today was a good day, I was able to finish a challenging portrait; a graphite, colored pencil and charcoal portrait of a kitty cat. Challenging because I've never drawn a cat before, and I mixed the pencils, it's hard to mix colored pencils with graphite because the colored pencils are waxy, and it's hard to put one over the other without a problem.
Wouldn't you think the life of a pencil artist would be a dream job? A piece of paper, a pencil and an eraser. Yeah, that's it in a nutshell, however, the pencils always seem to need to be sharpened. At least I like them sharp. A rounded pencil can give me a nice smooth roll over the paper, when I need to fill in a lot of negative space.
But usually, I like em sharp. And last night, I wanted to finish this piece after everyone went to bed. Then, WHAM...the electric pencil sharpener got jammed, and every pencil I tried to sharpen just came out blunt.
I turned it over, took out the 3 screws holding the thing together, and jiggled and jostled the sharpener against the counter a few times. Hubby shut the bedroom door rather sharply about that time, and I thought, "How am I gonna finish this if I don't have a sharpened pencil?
I took the sharpener into the bathroom and shut the door and tried it again. No luck....Tried it again, and I think I've got it. I put it all together again, and stuck a pencil in.The sharpener vibrated so loudly that the windows shook, you'd think the space shuttle was landing, only it wasn't.
Aw, man.....I had to give up and I went to bed rather perturbed, I'd just have to fix the sharpener in the morning, which I did, and it worked like a charm. Who would have figured that the jinx of the pencil sharpener would wear off over night?
Today I went and picked up my portrait of Annabelle at the King Center. Those of you who have been following my blogs know that I entered my first juried show in November, and they picked the "Earrink", the portrait of Annabelle.
I was ecstatic that it was chosen, and the day of the awards was a little more than interesting for me, it was anxiety provoking. On one hand I thought it would be wonderful to win the $1000 award, and I imagined myself standing up in front of a whole bunch of people, saying 'Thank you, thank you".
Then right after that thought came the thought that said, 'Naw, you ain't gonna win, it's a picture of a little girl, with an earring as big as her head.' So, back and forth and back and forth came the thoughts. From one extreme to the other. A winner and a loser.
I had to really work with my internal dialog and tell myself it didn't matter. It didn't matter if I won or if I didn't win. Winning didn't make me a winner, I make me a winner. If I didn't win I wasn't a loser, I was an artist in a juried show, and I didn't get the award. I also make me a loser, if I'm aware of it.
The awards were kinda peculiar, insofar as the judge was concerned. I mean he had credentials that were equivalent to an American Express Gold Card. He had been to all THE art schools, and had won every award there is...but, the little guy was OLD.
At first I thought that would work to my advantage, as my graphite portrait had all the elements of a traditional piece. No modern or contemporary abstract portrait. Just a plain old pencil drawing, with a little color for a pop.
But when he was asked up to the podium, he took a good long time getting there, and he was just 3 tables away. I didn't think much about it, as older folks need to watch where they are going, so they don't fall down.
He was introduced, and then the man in charge was ready to carry on with the program, only the judge didn't get it. He was ready to announce the winner. The man in charge had to ask the judge 3 times to go sit down, finally telling him he was crowding the stage. The judge understood that, and went and sat down.
Then came the time to announce the 1st place winner, the winner of $1000. The judge was asked back up front, and he announced the winner.
No sooner had the winner said her 'thanks' when the judge announced to the runner up, an award winner by the Art show board, and to the rest of us, that he didn't pick her piece for 1st place, because in his estimation, it had a flaw in it!
I was flabbergasted! It seemed rude and out of place to critique a work after the award was awarded....so, I was glad I did my self awareness preparation before the show because, had I been the runner up, I would have been picking myself up off the floor, or have wanted to elbow the old guy in the Adams apple, for his inappropriate comments.
What a whirlwind...juried art show, juried art gallery acceptance. Cocoa Beach Art Festival...did I mention I went to that? I'm a gonna tell you, there are some talented people in that show. My head got so full of beautiful art, I felt a little dizzy from time to time.
I went to the show with my friend Jim. Jimmie comes to Florida every year from upstate New York. We met years ago when I was doing the horse workshops, and Jimmie and I have stayed in touch ever since.
While we were walking the show, I saw the artist who I had signed up for his upcoming workshop, and I told Jim. "Oh, look, there's ....., let's go say "Hi". We walked into the booth or tent or hut, whatever you call those things that every artist has to have, to even get into the Art Festival.
So, I'm chit chatting for a minute or two, and the chit chat is hard because I'm not being chit chatted back to...and then it occurs to me to introduce my friend Jim. And there is no response. No grunt, no hey, no nod. Nothing. I mean nothing.
Well, talk about a pregnant pause. Or more like, "I gotta get the H out of here, before I say something I'll regret"....I mean, it's not like I haven't met that artist before. In fact, he owed me a little kindness, I handed out over 400 of his postcards, advertising one of his recent shows... and he can't even say "Hey" to my friend.
Man, by the time I got home I was fuming! I just couldn't think of one good reason why someone would be so rude. I had to process the whole thing with my daughter, because, if I accepted this rude behavior, and still went to his workshop, I mean, what could I expect? and the workshop wasn't cheap either. Who does this guy think he is?
It reminded me of a horse trainer I worked with years ago. This guy co-wrote a book, was on TV, flew around the country giving seminars. Had all the girls swooning over him, myself included. But, the guy was a #1 Ass. Not second rate, or even third rate, a bona fide, first rate Ass.
So, I like to think I'm learning my lessons as life hands them to me, and I withdrew from the artist workshop...and I've got to tell you...it felt good and bad. I had sooooo wanted to go to that workshop, and I had told all my friends that I was going.
But to think that I would go and be treated badly, or not, he had treated my friend rudely, I would have been doubly mad. People tell you who they are by the way they behave. Why should I expect someone to behave differently just for me? That has been a problem for me in the past. I hope I have finally figured it out.
Well, that's just the beginning of catching you up on an artist's life. Reminds me of a "Bugs life", only I don't have the antennae! I've got some more stuff to talk about, only it's gettin late, and I've got a portrait to finish. Stay tuned for more...
Wouldn't you think the life of a pencil artist would be a dream job? A piece of paper, a pencil and an eraser. Yeah, that's it in a nutshell, however, the pencils always seem to need to be sharpened. At least I like them sharp. A rounded pencil can give me a nice smooth roll over the paper, when I need to fill in a lot of negative space.
But usually, I like em sharp. And last night, I wanted to finish this piece after everyone went to bed. Then, WHAM...the electric pencil sharpener got jammed, and every pencil I tried to sharpen just came out blunt.
I turned it over, took out the 3 screws holding the thing together, and jiggled and jostled the sharpener against the counter a few times. Hubby shut the bedroom door rather sharply about that time, and I thought, "How am I gonna finish this if I don't have a sharpened pencil?
I took the sharpener into the bathroom and shut the door and tried it again. No luck....Tried it again, and I think I've got it. I put it all together again, and stuck a pencil in.The sharpener vibrated so loudly that the windows shook, you'd think the space shuttle was landing, only it wasn't.
Aw, man.....I had to give up and I went to bed rather perturbed, I'd just have to fix the sharpener in the morning, which I did, and it worked like a charm. Who would have figured that the jinx of the pencil sharpener would wear off over night?
Today I went and picked up my portrait of Annabelle at the King Center. Those of you who have been following my blogs know that I entered my first juried show in November, and they picked the "Earrink", the portrait of Annabelle.
I was ecstatic that it was chosen, and the day of the awards was a little more than interesting for me, it was anxiety provoking. On one hand I thought it would be wonderful to win the $1000 award, and I imagined myself standing up in front of a whole bunch of people, saying 'Thank you, thank you".
Then right after that thought came the thought that said, 'Naw, you ain't gonna win, it's a picture of a little girl, with an earring as big as her head.' So, back and forth and back and forth came the thoughts. From one extreme to the other. A winner and a loser.
I had to really work with my internal dialog and tell myself it didn't matter. It didn't matter if I won or if I didn't win. Winning didn't make me a winner, I make me a winner. If I didn't win I wasn't a loser, I was an artist in a juried show, and I didn't get the award. I also make me a loser, if I'm aware of it.
The awards were kinda peculiar, insofar as the judge was concerned. I mean he had credentials that were equivalent to an American Express Gold Card. He had been to all THE art schools, and had won every award there is...but, the little guy was OLD.
At first I thought that would work to my advantage, as my graphite portrait had all the elements of a traditional piece. No modern or contemporary abstract portrait. Just a plain old pencil drawing, with a little color for a pop.
But when he was asked up to the podium, he took a good long time getting there, and he was just 3 tables away. I didn't think much about it, as older folks need to watch where they are going, so they don't fall down.
He was introduced, and then the man in charge was ready to carry on with the program, only the judge didn't get it. He was ready to announce the winner. The man in charge had to ask the judge 3 times to go sit down, finally telling him he was crowding the stage. The judge understood that, and went and sat down.
Then came the time to announce the 1st place winner, the winner of $1000. The judge was asked back up front, and he announced the winner.
No sooner had the winner said her 'thanks' when the judge announced to the runner up, an award winner by the Art show board, and to the rest of us, that he didn't pick her piece for 1st place, because in his estimation, it had a flaw in it!
I was flabbergasted! It seemed rude and out of place to critique a work after the award was awarded....so, I was glad I did my self awareness preparation before the show because, had I been the runner up, I would have been picking myself up off the floor, or have wanted to elbow the old guy in the Adams apple, for his inappropriate comments.
What a whirlwind...juried art show, juried art gallery acceptance. Cocoa Beach Art Festival...did I mention I went to that? I'm a gonna tell you, there are some talented people in that show. My head got so full of beautiful art, I felt a little dizzy from time to time.
I went to the show with my friend Jim. Jimmie comes to Florida every year from upstate New York. We met years ago when I was doing the horse workshops, and Jimmie and I have stayed in touch ever since.
While we were walking the show, I saw the artist who I had signed up for his upcoming workshop, and I told Jim. "Oh, look, there's ....., let's go say "Hi". We walked into the booth or tent or hut, whatever you call those things that every artist has to have, to even get into the Art Festival.
So, I'm chit chatting for a minute or two, and the chit chat is hard because I'm not being chit chatted back to...and then it occurs to me to introduce my friend Jim. And there is no response. No grunt, no hey, no nod. Nothing. I mean nothing.
Well, talk about a pregnant pause. Or more like, "I gotta get the H out of here, before I say something I'll regret"....I mean, it's not like I haven't met that artist before. In fact, he owed me a little kindness, I handed out over 400 of his postcards, advertising one of his recent shows... and he can't even say "Hey" to my friend.
Man, by the time I got home I was fuming! I just couldn't think of one good reason why someone would be so rude. I had to process the whole thing with my daughter, because, if I accepted this rude behavior, and still went to his workshop, I mean, what could I expect? and the workshop wasn't cheap either. Who does this guy think he is?
It reminded me of a horse trainer I worked with years ago. This guy co-wrote a book, was on TV, flew around the country giving seminars. Had all the girls swooning over him, myself included. But, the guy was a #1 Ass. Not second rate, or even third rate, a bona fide, first rate Ass.
So, I like to think I'm learning my lessons as life hands them to me, and I withdrew from the artist workshop...and I've got to tell you...it felt good and bad. I had sooooo wanted to go to that workshop, and I had told all my friends that I was going.
But to think that I would go and be treated badly, or not, he had treated my friend rudely, I would have been doubly mad. People tell you who they are by the way they behave. Why should I expect someone to behave differently just for me? That has been a problem for me in the past. I hope I have finally figured it out.
Well, that's just the beginning of catching you up on an artist's life. Reminds me of a "Bugs life", only I don't have the antennae! I've got some more stuff to talk about, only it's gettin late, and I've got a portrait to finish. Stay tuned for more...
Friday, December 3, 2010
All about the Art
Art Art Bo Bart Banana Fana Fo Fart Me My Mo Mart, Art. Remember that little ditty? (It's as funny to write as it is to say). I cannot believe it's been a month since my last post. What happened? It's all Art's fault.
I entered a juried art show, first time ever, (I've got more to say about that later) and I was accepted as a member of an art gallery, the Art Gallery of Viera. Seems like not such a big deal, but it is, to me. One day I'm just sittin' around and writing on my blog and going to art salon meetings every two weeks, and the next thing I know I'm so busy I'm runnin' around with my hair on fire. (Feels like it anyway)
Oh, and I forgot to mention the little game I downloaded, Zuma. I don't know why I got that game, it's not like I don't have anything else to do but sit here and shoot at these little balls. Red, green, blue, purple...and when I get to the higher levels, which isn't that often, white balls start rolling around. It seems like shooting at these things helps me organize, in the back of my mind, all the other stuff. Does this happen to anybody else?
I have my drawings that I'm working on. Three commissions, and one Christmas present. I love drawing, don't get me wrong, it's just that I can only sit and draw for so long and then I have to get up and do something else. I love looking at all the nuances of a nose or lips or eyes, the shapes that make up a face or hair. It's all good stuff. After awhile though my hands just get tired, especially if I'm covering alot of space with the darker shades. I draw on the back porch, or if it's really chilly, I'll sit in the kitchen at the counter because I don't have an official studio.
Then I get the big idea I need to make stuff for Christmas, some for the gallery and some for family and friends. I've got out my felt, and made a couple of ornaments. (One has already sold at the gallery, I'll be able to take that trip to Rio now!) And I got out my sculpey and tried making some ornaments,but they aren't that good. Sometimes I think I've lost the knack for sculpture, I don't know for sure, but I'll keep trying.
Seems like I do this every Christmas, I get all these ideas and try and hurry to make everything in time. Now that I go to the Gallery and work my 4 shifts a month, it seems like I don't have enough time. But I do have enough time, I just need to slow down and tell myself it's enough. I mean who's in control here anyway? I've had this niggling thought that I need, I mean HAVE TO make stuff.
Through the years I've always had some project to work on. Last year I started a tapestry, a cute little puppy. I won't be making another one of those, it about killed me to finish it. I wonder what it is about taking on a new project, what is it really about. Is it just my nature to challenge myself with something new? What happens when the new thing isn't all it's cracked up to be? Do projects help me deal with life in some way? All questions I've been asking myself, ever since I became an official artist.
Well, I just realized that blogging helps me figure stuff out way better than playing Zuma. It's like talking out loud, sometimes just hearing the thoughts can clarify a situation, or crystallize an issue. I have been keeping my issues pretty close to the heart lately, guess it's time to take em out and dust them off, what do ya think?
So, I'll be back soon, to tell you more about the Art.
I entered a juried art show, first time ever, (I've got more to say about that later) and I was accepted as a member of an art gallery, the Art Gallery of Viera. Seems like not such a big deal, but it is, to me. One day I'm just sittin' around and writing on my blog and going to art salon meetings every two weeks, and the next thing I know I'm so busy I'm runnin' around with my hair on fire. (Feels like it anyway)
Oh, and I forgot to mention the little game I downloaded, Zuma. I don't know why I got that game, it's not like I don't have anything else to do but sit here and shoot at these little balls. Red, green, blue, purple...and when I get to the higher levels, which isn't that often, white balls start rolling around. It seems like shooting at these things helps me organize, in the back of my mind, all the other stuff. Does this happen to anybody else?
I have my drawings that I'm working on. Three commissions, and one Christmas present. I love drawing, don't get me wrong, it's just that I can only sit and draw for so long and then I have to get up and do something else. I love looking at all the nuances of a nose or lips or eyes, the shapes that make up a face or hair. It's all good stuff. After awhile though my hands just get tired, especially if I'm covering alot of space with the darker shades. I draw on the back porch, or if it's really chilly, I'll sit in the kitchen at the counter because I don't have an official studio.
Then I get the big idea I need to make stuff for Christmas, some for the gallery and some for family and friends. I've got out my felt, and made a couple of ornaments. (One has already sold at the gallery, I'll be able to take that trip to Rio now!) And I got out my sculpey and tried making some ornaments,but they aren't that good. Sometimes I think I've lost the knack for sculpture, I don't know for sure, but I'll keep trying.
Seems like I do this every Christmas, I get all these ideas and try and hurry to make everything in time. Now that I go to the Gallery and work my 4 shifts a month, it seems like I don't have enough time. But I do have enough time, I just need to slow down and tell myself it's enough. I mean who's in control here anyway? I've had this niggling thought that I need, I mean HAVE TO make stuff.
Through the years I've always had some project to work on. Last year I started a tapestry, a cute little puppy. I won't be making another one of those, it about killed me to finish it. I wonder what it is about taking on a new project, what is it really about. Is it just my nature to challenge myself with something new? What happens when the new thing isn't all it's cracked up to be? Do projects help me deal with life in some way? All questions I've been asking myself, ever since I became an official artist.
Well, I just realized that blogging helps me figure stuff out way better than playing Zuma. It's like talking out loud, sometimes just hearing the thoughts can clarify a situation, or crystallize an issue. I have been keeping my issues pretty close to the heart lately, guess it's time to take em out and dust them off, what do ya think?
So, I'll be back soon, to tell you more about the Art.
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