Category Archives: Discussion

Time & Space

Within hours of the total eclipse (which was all that we’d hoped for and more!), my husband left on his merry way for a much-anticipated 10-day mountain bike adventure with buddies. About a nanosecond after the door closed behind him, I got out my day planner/journal to brainstorm for an extended stay-at-home “art residency”. When have I ever had such an impressive, relatively chore and commitment-free span of uninterrupted time to spend totally immersed in my practice – not to mention giving myself permission to ignore pretty much everything else?
Exactly never.

It’s been a wonderful 10 days!
I’ve made serious progress on a new “Full Bloom” piece, worked daily in my sketchbook – including life drawing sessions on Emma Carlisle’s Patreon – and have made a point to write every morning à la Julia Cameron (if you only knew how many years I’ve been meaning to try that).

I finally tackled Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act, visited 4 exhibitions, and had some lovely one-on-one time with several friends. I was able to take a serious bite out of my much-needed website update and began the initial experiments for a couple of new projects that I’ve been mulling over for weeks.

In the evening, I watched art documentaries: The Woodmans, Georgia O’Keeffe: By Myself, and several Waldemar Januszczak episodes on the Renaissance. My 4-legged studio assistant kept me on the straight and narrow by making sure I got out for two walks every day, rain or shine. And there has been time to just think!

Figure Drawing Luminance Pencil Faber-Castell Marker

It’s been a very sweet experience with the huge gift of a wiped-clean schedule that gave me the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted, for as long as I wanted. It’s crazy how liberating that can be.

Glorious Clutter

Even so, I doubt I could keep up this pace forever and it will be so nice to have my husband home again tomorrow. But if you can swing it, I can’t recommend this experience enough. The benefits of a traditional art residency are many and I totally get that often, for many, the only way to achieve this kind of time and space is to leave home – which admittedly also carries the stimulation of being in a new and different space. But if the circumstances allow – even if for just a weekend, I would definitely encourage you to consider setting up a “residency” for yourself at home some time. You’ll love it.

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Here are several things worth sharing that crossed my path this week:

Maine Calling’s podcast episode on The Role of Art in Community. Be sure to check out Pamela Moulton and Peter Bruun’s websites to see their work.
We lost a shining star last Saturday when Faith Ringgold died at 93. Having only known of her painted art quilts, I was amazed to learn of her powerful early-career work. Holland Cotter’s April 15th NYTimes article “Faith Ringgold Perfectly Captured the Pitch of America’s Madness” highlights what a titan Ringgold was. This is a gift link so you should be able to access the article without encountering a paywall.
And finally, the two exhibits I’ve been part of: “Up & Down, In & Out: Embroidery and its Kin” and “Visions of Totality” are closing this weekend at Studio Place Arts and the Highland Center for the Arts, respectively. If you haven’t have a chance to visit in person, the following reviews will give you a nice flavor of both.

Seven Days, by Pamela Polston, April 10, 2024

7Days SPA Review

The Barre Montpelier Times Argus, by Mary Gow, April 6, 2024

Times Argus Banner Times Argus Visions of Totality Review

Feeling With The Eyes

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After reading Gretchen Rubin’s Life in Five Senses last year, I often find myself tuning-in to more than just one sense in a given situation.

Tomita Mikiko Porcelaneous stoneware with gilding

Tomita Mikiko, Form of the Progenitor, 2019, Glazed and enameled porcelaneous stoneware with gilding

Visiting the Art Institute of Chicago a couple of weeks ago was a perfect opportunity to look beyond merely the visuals of the two exhibits we saw, considering them in terms of touch as well.

Hattori Makiko, Wandering, 2012, Porcelaneous stoneware

Radical Clay: Contemporary Women Artists from Japan is a grouping of work by 36 ceramicists — significantly, as noted, all women. The pieces are from the collection of Carol and Jeffrey Horvitz.

Ikake Sayuri, Breathe, 2015, Pigmented clay

Customarily under-recognized within a country that long excluded women from the creative side of clay, this show lends focus and acclaim to both leading and emerging female artists in the field.

Shingū Sayaka, Erosion No. 4 (Eroding Flower), 2021, Glazed and unglazed stoneware

Their work bursts exuberantly beyond the boundaries of traditional pottery, proposing wild and unimagined possibilities within the medium.

Tanaka Yū, Bag Work, 2018, Glazed Shigaraki stoneware

So much about the work is unexpected. It is curious, delightful and often somehow relatable despite the many unidentifiable and fantastical forms.

Konno Tomoko, Liberation (detail), 2022, Porcelain

Beyond that, the overall gathering point for me was texture – in all its pockmarked, frilled, spiked, gathered, ribbed, shaggy and even occasionally glassy-smooth glory.

Inaba Chikako, Leaf Vessel, Glazed Stoneware

Inaba Chikako, Leaf Vessel, 2017, Glazed Stoneware

Revisiting this exhibit through my photos has led me to realize I wasn’t just seeing it – I was feeling it with my eyes.

Ogawa Machiko, Red Vessel, reduction fired stoneware

Ogawa Machiko, Red Vessel, 2021, Reduction fired stoneware

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Moving from clay to textiles, next we visited Threaded Visions: Contemporary Weavings from the Collection. Relatively small in terms of the number of pieces, it is nonetheless mighty in impact, pushing one’s multi-sensory buttons. The works definitely have the expected tactile appeal associated with textiles, but it is the marriage of texture with dimension that most intrigued me. I didn’t so much want to run my hands over the work as I wanted to drop into the space each artist created.

María Dávila and Eduardo Portillo, White Dwarf, 2016, Silk, moriche palm fiber, alpaca, ad metabolized synthetic film wrapped thread; multilayered plain weave

María Dávila and Eduardo Portillo’s piece White Dwarf, from their imagined cosmos series, refers to a collapsing star. It is a dimensional piece with silvery metallic coils hovering above a grid of deep tones that, to me, evoke the shimmer and movement of moonlight on dark water. Read about these artists’ process and journey in Part one and Part Two, posts on Browngrotta Arts fabulous blog, ArtTextStyle.

Olga de Amaral, Alquimia III (Alchemy III), 1983, Linen, cotton, gesso, gold leaf and pigment; plain weave joined by knotted weft fringe

This glittering piece by Olga de Amaral is part of a series on the subject of alchemy. The masses of loose-end threads emerging from a background of gold leaf suggest a balance between order and chaos.

Olga de Amaral, Alchemy III, detail

Ethel Stein, Portrait, 1999, Cotton; warp and weft resist dyed, satin and twill weaves

The varying weave patterns of Ethel Stein’s stunning Portrait lend an abstract sense of rhythm to the figure within a static background. Zoom in on the above photo to see how the complexity of one area/pattern abutting another incorporates a sense of dimension within an image that essentially presents as flat.

Lia Cook, Facing Touch, cotton with rayon lining

Lia Cook, Facing Touch, 2011, Cotton’ woven on a digital hand loom; rayon lining

Finally, and perhaps most interestingly, Lia Cook addresses the idea of texture directly, as noted on the information card accompanying her piece:

“Lia Cook has long been interested in how the human brain reacts to the desire for touch. In the early 2000s, she began to work with neuroscientists to compare the brain’s response to viewing a woven image of a face versus a photograph of the same face. They discovered that seeing the woven image triggered greater activity in the part of the brain most affected by touch. Facing Touch illustrates this experiment: in it, a girl wearing a cap with sensors attached reaches out to a woven portrait also by Cook, Binary Traces: Young Girl, from 2004.”

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If you have a moment, enjoy this quick and uplifting “Stuck in Vermont” video about Hannah Miller’s quest to read, write and knit in all of Vermont’s libraries during her year-long sabbatical. Follow Hannah’s joyful journey on Instagram: @handknitbyhannah

Mending Magic

Here’s a final recommendation to close out 2023.

Mending Life – A Handbook for Repairing Clothes and Hearts by Nina and Sonya Montenegro has been on my radar since it first came out in 2020. But it took having the perfect recipient this Christmas for me to finally buy a copy. Of course I had to ever-so-gently read it before wrapping it up to put under the tree.

Mending Life

If ever there was a book containing love, this is it.
Filled with gentle stories and charming illustrations that shine a light on the humble art of mending, you will never again think of repairing something with needle and thread as just a mundane chore.

The Montenegro sisters frame mending as an act of homage – to the clothes we wear, to those who made them, to the earth we want to protect, and to those who took the time and love to mend for us in the past.

Back Cover Mending Life

The easy-to-follow illustrated directions cover an assortment of ways to darn, patch or repair — perfect for beginners and seasoned sewers alike. The authors address sewing basics, as well as the more advanced Sashiko, needle-felting, crochet and needle-weaving, reminding us that an act of repair can also be a creative gesture (think Wabi-sabi or Kintsugi). The possibilities are virtually endless.

As I grew up, every woman in my orbit had a mending basket; it was as much a fact of life as any other set of household tools, completely unnoticed in its ordinariness. A skilled repair was meant to remain invisible. And even though I patched my jeans in high-school with contrasting fabrics, I never really thought of mending in general as a form of healing, let alone creativity.

But this sweet book has changed my mind. Suddenly I’m scouring my closets, looking for something to mend. That is indeed magic!

Happy New Year!

The Art of Noticing

This doesn’t happen all that often, but I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what to write this week. And then it occurred to me, perhaps that conundrum in itself is worth a few paragraphs.

The first pass of color literally sets the tone for what is to come

The challenge of finding something to share with you every other week, beyond just “I made this and then I made that” is a big part of what has sustained me in posting regularly for – can it really be? – nine years. Invariably, if I keep an eye open, something unexpected will spark an idea and from there it’s a matter of connecting the dots. My goal, of course, is that whatever that particular something is will be of interest to you as well.

Inspired by my sitter, drawing from my button stash was a no-brainer

So as I was driving to the grocery store several days ago, mulling over what I’ve seen, read, talked about with folks, and yes, been working on in the studio over the past couple of weeks, I was still coming up dry. But then it dawned on me: having nothing to write about is something to write about. In other words, running into walls is a given and finding a way around them is just as much a part of my (or any) practice as threading a needle and putting brush to paper.

The embroidery on this piece is relatively minimal. Not only does it encourage a viewer to slow down in her looking, but also to more closely considering the unique qualities of watercolor as the stitches and the washes work together. The hard and fluid edges throughout the work are another nod to the medium.

There’s no gliding through this game; every single detail is worthy of consideration. As Lorene Edwards Forkner of A Handmade Garden has written: “Noticing reveals the invisible”. So if I had to distill into a single element what it is that most feeds every part of my practice, both in and out of the studio, it comes down to two words: pay attention.

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While sewing the buttons on The Alchemist yesterday, I listened to a recording of Jeannet Leendertse talking about her work on Zoom. Leendertse forages seaweed (specifically Rockweed), that she sews into remarkable vessels and sculptural forms. As a native Mainer, I am intrigued by her use of this material that, as I grew up, was as common to me as grass.

Noting that she is highly aware of the materials she uses and the lasting impact of her creative process, Leendertse shared a link to Future Materials Bank, a resource that highlights sustainable materials gleaned from the waste stream and artists who incorporate them into their work. Check it out – you will be amazed and inspired.

Fertile Ground

In addition to pumpkins and apples, changing leaves and crisp temperatures, a much-anticipated harbinger of fall in central Vermont is the beloved annual Art at the Kent exhibition in Calais. If you aren’t familiar with it, follow this link to acquaint yourself with the curators who accomplish this massive feat each fall, the distinctive venue which is as much a part of the show as the art itself, and specifics about this year’s exhibit, “Traces”.

I took very few photos when I visited last week, so this post is not a virtual tour. However, I can’t encourage you more strongly to go see for yourself; think of it as a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow — a beautiful drive through a lovely part of the world, arriving at a unique treasure of an exhibition.

What I keep thinking about in hindsight is the artists who had work in multiple mediums on display. I found it enlightening that the curators chose to represent the breadth of their practices as opposed to showing only pieces from a single discipline. Creative ground is fertile. As a viewer, I enjoy considering the potential expansion of an artist’s thought processes as one medium feeds another. Or perhaps, that’s not the case. It’s entirely possible that the only way to say what needed to be said was via another language. Either way, it added to my experience to see the variety.

Many of us branch out in our work, for any number of reasons. Cross-pollination deepens our discoveries, ultimately enriching both our experiences in the studio and our results. Diversification gives us more substance to draw from in future work.

The path from Point A to Point B is often circuitous, inconsistent and complex, but it usually ends up being well-worth the ride. Pay The Kent a visit; I’m sure you will agree.

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My friend and sculptural knitter Leslie Roth introduced me to Scottish knitwear designer Kate Davies a number of years ago. I have since knitted from Davies’ patterns and also read and been moved enough to write about her book Handywoman. While I’m not a regular follower of her blog, I dip into it from time to time, always enjoying what I find there. Her recent post “September Feeling” is one to share…its sentiment is as lovely as the accompanying photographs. If you feel a strong sense of connection to the place you call home, I think you will be able to relate.

À la Carte

I’m not sure how we did it, but when we planned this year’s trip to Maine last winter we somehow landed on what might have been the best week of the summer; we only had to pay one day of rain tax. Considering what a soggy season it has been across New England, that’s really saying something.

Clark Island

Before we leave, I usually have 1 or 2 specific shows in mind I want to see, but it never fails that unexpected creative treats pop up along the way. Here’s a bit of a tasting menu of what caught my eye.

Portland Coastline ©Diane Been, Oil on paper I couldn’t stop looking at this print of a painting by Diane Beem during lunch at Mae’s Cafe in Bath. Deemed “Modern Fauvism” by the artist, the colors aren’t what one might usually associate with the Portland waterfront, and I think that’s a large part of what drew me in.

©David B Harmon Always a sucker for animals in art, I loved David B Harmon’s woodblock relief prints, some of which were huge. His exhibit “Cohabitation” at Rock City Café in Rockland calls attention to the fact that we share community with creatures of all types. And knowing a couple of special somebodies who are currently trying to negotiate a coexistence with a raccoon, this piece suddenly had special meaning.

Archipelago is a Rockland art & craft gallery filled with the work of Maine artists. Its mission is to support creative island and working waterfront communities. Currently, they are highlighting the work of Kelly Desrosiers: acrylic collage that looked (to me) like fabric.

Bird Island by Kelly Desrosiers, Acrylic Collage

The Farnsworth Museum is a gem that always has something terrific on view.

Edward Hopper, Haunted House 1926, Watercolor, gouache, pastel and graphite on paper

One of their current exhibits, “Edward Hopper and Andrew Wyeth: Rockland, ME”, blew me away. Beautifully curated, it finds strong parallels between works of two very different artists, made decades apart. The stars of the show are their subjects: Rockland, as a place, and the physical apparatuses of its historic industries. The overlap of the artists’ interpretations were both surprising and delightful.

Andrew Wyeth, Untitled (Snow House), 1983, Watercolor on paper

I always return to the fact that details are my kryptonite.

There is a world unto itself in the variation of color in each pane of glass Wyeth painted in this window.

This summer I’ve been experimenting in my sketchbook with layering assorted media, including gouache and soft pastels. So it was a treat to see how Hopper incorporated a variety of materials in this lyrically beautiful passage of grass in the foreground of “Haunted House”.

A couple of other gems at the Farnsworth I couldn’t resist sharing:

Francesco Clemente, Robert Creeley, 2002, Oil on linen, Gift of the Alex Katz Foundation Any and every portrait is intriguing to me these days.

Lois Dodd, The Painted Room, 1982, Oil on linen The ambiguity of Dodd’s depiction of this room’s painted mural, framing the window, framing the real outdoors, sets the stage for all sorts of imaginings.

I was lucky that one of my Maine buddies alerted me in advance to the (Brunswick) Curtis Memorial Library’s exhibition of Robert McCloskey’s original illustrations of some of his most iconic and best loved books.
Forgive the reflections.

Most kids from Maine know all about Blueberries for Sal. For those of us who grew up in the state and summered in an old-fashioned, down-to-earth Maine cottage on the coast (not the fancy McMansion-type dwellings built by people from away), everything about this book is comfortingly familiar (except the bears).

When I look at art, it’s invariably with an eye toward what I can learn from someone else’s expertise. This detail from one of the illustrations in McCloskey’s Burt Dow, Deep-Water Man is a masterclass on being concise without sacrificing detail.

One of a number of wooden reliefs by Blake Hendrickson, also at the library. They reminded me of my friend Dianne Shullenberger’s “Circular Earth Series”.

And finally, the cherry on top of the vacation cake was discovering this local exhibit of portraits by Abby Carter. Beautiful work honoring community.

Abby Carter

One last Maine note: There’s always time around the edges to do a bit of sketching. I’ve been very happy to learn that soft pastels can be wetted and painted like watercolors.

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And now, back in Vermont, I’ve finished the portrait you have only seen snippets of so far.

The Gardener, Detail Since it’s a bear to photograph the glow of gold paint, this detail better captures what the photo above didn’t.

Gateway to Growth

Our dog Quinn has the art of post-nap stretching down to a science.
We can’t help but admire and laugh at the languorous ease with which she lowers herself to the floor from her bed on the sofa, slowly and purposefully trailing her hind legs in order to fully stretch out her spine.

I spent our first morning exploring pattern, with the background of future portraits in mind.

Considering it’s beyond mid-May and I’m well out of my winter cocoon, I’ve been thinking about ways to figuratively emulate Quinn’s example in my practice this summer. It would be nice to shake out the cricks of habit and routine that have settled into place after months of being cozied-up inside.

Layers of color add complexity

A hopeful first step was jumping – no leaping – on-board at a friend’s suggestion that several of us take a long weekend for an artist’s retreat at her place on Martha’s Vineyard. In hindsight, there is a certain poetry in the parallel that runs between being situated on a physical island while simultaneously experiencing a metaphorical remove through focused making, discussion and inspiration.

Final spots of red could just as easily been added with thread

As with so many things, the benefits undoubtedly won’t fully surface for a while. No question, it can be quite fruitful to release some of the ideas that bang around within the confines of one’s own head, and then see how those thoughts reflect back in the light of others’ insights and responses. I have a lot to think about now that I’m home, and I know that it will take longer than the actual retreat to get to the nut of what I gleaned.

Later that same day we walked a trail that, in places, ran alongside beautiful old stone walls that are riddled with holes. They are unlike any I’ve ever seen in Vermont or Maine. Later, reading a book about the Vineyard, I learned that these walls, which snake all across this part of the island, are referred to as “lace walls” because of their unusual holes. Although my sample painting above was finished before seeing the walls up close, I can’t help but think of it now as an abstraction and reminder of Chilmark’s unique and ubiquitous boundary markers.

I’m feeling like I got a satisfying stretch for my brain and my practice, and am ready to move forward.

Trimming down what I brought with me took some thought because there is the very real temptation to bring everything. Bottom line: it doesn’t take much to create and settle into a transitory studio.

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This summer I am planning to balance stitched studio portraits with more spontaneous versions that are painted from life in a group setting. The difference between the two is obvious, but I feel like each approach feeds the other in a way that ultimately benefits both, as well as my own learning arc.

Southern Venture

Ready for a quick trip to the South?
Last week we visited Charleston, SC and Savannah, GA and, as on most travels, there was plenty of art to enjoy in the moment and to think about after coming home. Here are a few highlights from The Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston, my favorite of the various art venues we visited.

Imagined Boundaries ©2017 – present, Raheleh Filsoofi, Multimedia Installation. In this striking wall installation, Filsoofi asks viewers to consider — What is a limit? What is a border? Who is on the other side? Her aim is to interrupt cultural preconceptions and to create dialogue around socio-political issues such as borders, immigration and community building by creating boxes that act as portals communicating shared humanity.

These are still shots from a video within one of Filsoofi’s boxes. The viewer becomes participant in that the video subjects appear to be checking us out as closely as we are observing them.

Self Portrait Emma ©2002 Alison Saar, Oil on Skillet. Saar’s work frequently focuses on societal notions regarding the positioning of African Americans and women in domestic realms. This oil portrait of a domestic worker on the bottom of a frying pan is intentionally faint, (I have drastically over-exposed my photo to make it visible to you) invoking the relative invisibility of a typical household cook or kitchen maid.

Never Again ©Mary Jackson, Sweetgrass and palmetto. Mary Jackson is an internationally recognized master of sweetgrass basketry. This piece took 3 years to complete.

What attracted me to The Gibbes Museum in the first place was their collection of miniature portraits. According to the museum’s literature, the first-ever American miniatures were painted in Charleston and the Gibbes collection holds over 600 works spanning from early colonial examples of the 18th century to the Revival Period of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
They are remarkable!

H.F. Plowden Weston, by Charles Fraser, 1824

Miss Reynolds of Fenwick Hall, by Charles Fraser, 1835

Christopher Gustavus Memminger, by Charles Fraser, 1823 This gentleman looks so familiar to me! I think I’ve watched way too many Masterpiece period dramas.

Actor Jack Farthing

How wonderful to see Joseph Jackson’s sketchbook which held preliminary portraits that he may have used to impress perspective clients.

Moving on, there’s nothing quite like an independent bookstore for providing a sense of grounding when visiting a new locale. Curated shelves that reflect local pride in the history, authors and artists of a place reveal the rich undercurrent of a city in a way that generic travel books can’t begin to match.
If you’re willing to snoop around a bit, you never know what you might discover. A visit to Buxton Books in Charleston opened a couple of interesting doors for me.

I loved the art on the cover of this book of poetry by South Carolinian Marlanda Dekine, and had to find out more about Fletcher Williams III, the artist who created it. The piece is named “Westward”.

It turns out that Williams has a resume that extends far beyond book cover illustration. He is a multi-media artist living and working in Charleston, making identity-based art and is a rising star. With an academic foundation in psychology and anthropology, his artwork speaks to the history of Charleston and the culture of the Lowcountry, but not in the way one might expect.

Taking time to follow the interview links on Williams’ website gave me a much deeper understanding of both his artistic aims and the challenges he confronts. He is incredibly thoughtful and articulate. His discussion regarding having to navigate the complexities of feeling pressured to speak to the Black experience, while coping with narratives thrust upon him and his artwork that are not his own, was enlightening. While I don’t think one can ever fully grasp the underlying dynamics of a specific place unless one is a native, I found it fascinating (and important) to get a glimpse, via his interviews, beyond the usual tropes and assumptions.

And for those more interested in textiles, the other book that caught my attention was Embroidery: Threads and Stories from Alabama Chanin and the School of Making by Natalie Chanin. It was way too fat and heavy to bring home in my carry-on, but I snagged a Kindle edition and am looking forward to reading, rather than just flipping through this part autobiography, part “exploration into how sewing and embroidery relate to wider concerns of sustainability, community and women’s empowerment”.

If you go, other bookstores to explore in both cities:
Blue Bicycle Books, Charleston
E. Shaver, Bookseller, Savannah

Two museums to check out in Savannah:
Telfair Academy (The first museum in the US founded by a woman), and
The Jepson Art Center
Oh, and there’s a Blick store in Savannah too!

And now, it’s nice to be home.

Keeping Track

The Museum of Craft and Design in San Francisco is currently exhibiting 100 of Anne Hicks Siberell’s Concrete Journals. A bookmaker and writer, Siberell has been a visual diarist for decades. Initially inspired by the permanence of ancient clay cuneiform tablets, she has made several hundred collaged “entries” marking personal and world events by embedding collected ephemera within concrete that she then carves and paints once it has dried.

Too bad the show isn’t a little more convenient to see in person, but in lieu of that, don’t miss Siberell’s website for examples of her journal tablets and other work.

The urge to keep a record, to act as witness within our own lives and of the world at large, is ubiquitously human. For the reader/viewer of these works, experiencing the intimacy of another’s story is a gift. The first time I realized the empathic enormity to be gained from learning about someone else’s day-to-day was in middle school, reading Anne Frank’s diary. It was an important lesson at a time in life when one is largely self-absorbed.
May Sarton’s Journal of a Solitude had a tremendous impact on me in college and, as noted in a post from May 2020, resonated just as strongly soon after the pandemic confined us. Meanwhile, I have just begun Anne Truitt’s Day Book and look forward to the lessons she too will have for me.

John ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and colored pencil in a 12 x 9 Fabriano Venezia sketchbook. Our life drawing group has revived! So lovely to spend several hours on Monday painting directly from a model in the company of others.

Thinking along these lines, I can’t tell you how many written journals I have begun and deserted over the years. My inability to follow through has always made me a bit sad. But after looking at Siberell’s work and learning of the appellation “visual diarist”, I realized that I have been keeping a diary of sorts all along.

A sneak peak at my current work in progress. Oh – that blue! This model has such knowing eyes, which may well figure into the title. The gloppy yellow hair strands are masking fluid which I’ll remove eventually, but for the moment it keeps those areas safe from paint.

A trip back through my “catalogue” of work so far: pastel paintings, art quilts, textile collages, drawings, sketchbooks, and current stitched portraits and house & garden pieces, is just as much an ongoing record of personal events and experiences as that of any formal written diary. And then there is this blog, which I have maintained faithfully and regularly for the past 8-1/2 years.
So it looks like I have indeed been keeping track after all. To underline the point, note the title of this post from May, 2020, also linked above. How very reassuring to know that everything hasn’t just evaporated with the years.

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And to leave you with a smile….artist friend and animal lover Leslie Roth shared a follow-up to my last post that you won’t want to miss : Vermeer’s newly discovered dog portraits. Be sure to note the date of the article!

Tools of the Trade

It’s been a while since I last posted about art supplies.
As I delve further into stitched paintings, new supplies are rotating into my regular line-up. I’m also reintroducing a couple of items that I haven’t used in decades, but happily never got rid of…chalk one up for pack-rat genes! Maybe something below will nudge you into thinking about trying something new – or old – in your own practice.

I’ve recently been considering the possibility of incorporating small areas of gold into my paintings. However, before dropping into a gold leaf rabbit hole, I realized I already had some ground gold watercolor pigment from Daniel Smith that I must have bought at their flagship store when we lived near Seattle almost 30 (gulp) years ago. It’s so old I don’t think you can even get it like this anymore, but what I have hasn’t suffered any with age. Once reconstituted with water, it’s just the touch of Midas I was looking for, without the learning curve.

When I worked in graphic design (and we actually drew with real ink rather than on computers), I had a ruling pen for making rules/lines. It’s a great tool that I’d completely forgotten about. Listening to a podcast recently, I heard someone mention using a ruling pen as a way to get a really fine and even line with masking fluid for her watercolors. Eureka! Works like a charm — as you can see both above & below.

Gold paint and masked lines in action on my current piece

It hasn’t taken long to realize that if I’m going to continue with watercolor painting, I need to stretch my paper. I wanted a couple of boards that could accommodate smaller cuts of paper and would fit on my desk with all the other supplies. But I didn’t want to have to buy a full 4′ x 8′ sheet of plywood which was way more than needed. I’m so grateful that a friend had a smaller, cast-off piece in his barn that he was willing to throw my way. My husband cut it down into 4 pieces of varying sizes and sanded them to a velvet finish for me. A quick coat of sealant on the flat sides and gesso along to edges to keep out the water and I am now in business with several sizes to choose from. If you’re interested in making your own boards, “Watercolorish” has a solid video that discusses his boards and his method for stretching paper.

The algorithm on Instagram definitely has me pegged, so the ads I see are pretty much all art-related. In two cases I learned about items that have become my new workhorses.

Jazper Stardust paint is 100% handmade in micro batches of pure earth pigments. I bought a set of 12 half pans of what he calls “Skin Tones” and I absolutely love them. They mix and granulate beautifully. If you’re curious, he has loads of intriguing individual colors and sets – a lot of which are geared toward landscape artists with specific locales and weather in mind.

Last fall I bought two round Polina Bright brushes. Their performance is so outstanding that I bought a rigger and mop brush last month. Made with synthetic hair, they aren’t expensive yet they hold water and a point better than any of my other “fancier” brushes. Heads-up: she’s in Australia so your order will take a bit of time in transit.

And of course it pays to keep your eyes open because you never know where and when you’ll find your next treasure.

I grabbed this gem last weekend at a nearby bookshop; it’s from the awesome Peter Pauper Press (love their sketchbooks too). It comes with 3 removable book-like inserts: 1 with lined paper, 1 with dotted grid pages, and 1 with blank pages, and it also includes a zippered storage pocket.

It’s wonderfully compact (7-3/4″ x 4.5″) with a faux leather cover and an elastic band closure, so I know it will be secure in my bag and can stand up to lots of use, making it perfect for both travel and around town. I’m thinking I’ll just switch out a couple of the ready-supplied inserts for a homemade sketchbook using the Fabriano or Stillman & Birn paper I have on hand.

Finally, writing this post tickled my curiosity because I know there have to be plenty of other folks who are sharing what they know about art supplies online. Here’s a list of various podcasts that do just that. I can’t vouch for any of them yet, but I’ll be listening to “Art Supply Posse“ this afternoon as I continue with the stitching phase of my current work in progress.

Sneak peak of “Keeper of the Keys” earlier in the week as I was choosing thread colors.