Art

Here and Now

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Watercolor Sketch, 5×7, SOLD

 

We’re vacationing this week in southwestern Michigan along the great lake. I had big dreams of spending the week painting the water and the weather which never fail to inspire.
Thing2, however, was also inspired. The absence of glowing screens combined with an abundance of immediate and extended family helped Thing2 rediscover the joy of corralling parents and grandparents into card games and rounds of Monopoly highlighted by rules he makes up as he goes along.
When we finally got down to the beach, I was happy just to soak up the surroundings. I did a few quick studies and photos of things that may become paintings later. I’m starting to think, though, that the most important part of painting the landscape may be actually experiencing it — and the rest of life — while you’re in it.

Thing2 seems to agree.

Prints can be purchased on Etsy here.

Adventures in Business

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It’s spring and a young man’s thoughts turn to visions of popcorn -at least around here. Thing2 has become a dedicated foodie, as interested in making it as he is in eating it.

For me, spring is the beginning of the craft fair season. They’re moderately profitable, and there are worse ways to spend a sunny day in Vermont than sitting in a meadow surrounded by other artists. Thing2 loves to come and help me set up. He loves arranging things. He usually brings his own sketchbook to keep busy, and there are always other kids at the other booths to play with.

This year he’s more serious, wanting to start his own booth. In addition to selling Icelandic style hotdogs that we discovered on our trip, he’s decided to start selling flavored popcorn. he’s been testing recipes for the last couple weeks, and we been finding stray popcorn everywhere. It’s a small price to pay for doing our part to help small business in America.

Just Another Day

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Two kids playing two different sports, with one assistant coaching the other, and our morning routine has shot to H E double hockey sticks.

We have not made the bus more than once in the last three weeks, and Monday was no exception. 

Monday was a two sport day with a golf tournament two towns away and a game for the other after school, so we loaded up the car with gear and got to the bus stop to see it pulling away. It was OK, it was an opportunity to go over the schedule for the night and review the to-dos for the rest of the week–testing and more testing for college, prom fittings, and of course the all-important play date. 

The last thing on my mind was creativity. I didn’t even have time to congratulate myself on setting the alarm clock two hours earlier to make sure it happened Monday morning. I’ve been drawing and sketching every day and working on illustrations for a children’s book but have not been in the mood to stop and soak up and/or paint the landscape.

The missed bus stayed two cars ahead of us for most of the drive out of our 300 person town. As we reached a main road, all I noticed that grey morning was the line of brake lights in front of us. 

Thing1, however, was scanning the entire scene as he waited to guide the car into what Vermont calls “traffic”. As I went through the to do list, he leaned forward and glanced up at the sky. Then he looked at the mountain that rows up behind the nondescript garage across the street.

“Mom,” he said, “look at that light. do you see that little sliver of sun hitting the hill?” I nodded no I had not and still didn’t look up as we had seen that particular hill at least twice a day every day for the last 16 years. 

Thing1 does not go gaga for art as his brother and I do. He draws very well, but his passions lie elsewhere so his next words demanded me to look up.

“Now that’s a painting,” he said.

I closed my list and listened and looked at the mountain. The parting clouds had refracted that sliver of sun so that the three-day-old leaves on the trees were infused with gold. Golden mist from the rainstorm that had past 10 minutes earlier diffused the details of the scenery in front of us, and just like that I was back into landscapes.

All it took was an overly busy, completely ordinary day and the observation of a kid who is pretty smart for a math major to point out the forest and the trees.

Date Night

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Last Friday night Thing1 had a hot date, and the Big Guy had a gig playing guitar with his Québécois band at the local country store, so Thing2 and I decided to have Mommy-Thing2 evening.

We got to our favorite pub in Manchester, VT and, after ordering our drinks and appetizers, I pulled out my sketchbook and started sketch the candleholder.

Right on cue — as he does at every art museum or any time I’m sketching on the road — T2 asked if I had an extra journal. For once, i had thought to pack an extra, and the two of us sketched together in silence until our food arrived.

We came up with with wildly different pictures and spent the rest of the meal talking about art, architecture on Mars and art supplies.

It made for a different but quietly wonderful kind of date night.

Chasing Frogs

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It’s just barely past witching hour, and I’ve been chasing on paper one of those Lake Michigan days when it’s too rough to swim past your knees and too wild to stay cooped up inside away from the beach.

This is my favorite so far, but I’m still not sure if it’s a frog or a prince. But there’s a few hours before the sun come up, so I still have time to kiss a few more toads. And the hunt is a satisfying as the catch.

Hand Puppets

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I met this week with mentor extraordinaire and best-selling author Jon Katz to work on editing and cleaning up my first full fledged book, “A is for All Nighter”. The fate of the book is in flux as we are still working to find an agent for it and for me. I’m finding the advice of a good mentor like Jon is invaluable as I weigh the options of immediate gratification through self publishing or delayed gratification by trying to find a publisher.

So “A is for All Nighter” continues on the next step of the journey, and a new friend came to find me last week. Her name is Élly.  That accent over the E means you pronounce her name “Yelly”.
she’s kind of a loud little troll, and we had a lot to talk about last week. You see, like most people, there’s a lot more to Élly than meets the eye.

The revelations from the presidential campaign that inadvertently focused the national conversation on latent misogyny and consent brought up unpleasant memories for many women I know and for me as well.  Some people are able to talk about those memories, but sometimes, candor carries too high a price. 

Secrecy also carries a high price, however.  In secrecy there is depression and retreat from the blessings in your life.  There is a constant mental rerun of the memories that encourage self-loathing, and, in my case I began to look in the mirror and see a horrible, ugly, little troll.

That’s when Élly showed up.  Apparently she’s been lurking in the inner world I began building when I was two. She’s been just waiting for the right time to set me straight with some truth about bad things that happen in life and about trolls, about whom there is also much misinformation (they live under bridges, they have bad tempers).

So, like a kid talking to a hand puppet in a psychiatrist’s office, I told her why I felt like a troll and she told me why that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She talked to me about her life and about the strength you find walking through the tears and emerging on the other side into a life you love. 

Élly was so helpful getting me back on track, that we decided to work on my next project together.  She even helped me find it by suggesting that we work to set the record straight about her kind.  Élly’s doing most of the writing, and I’ll be doing the illustrations, and we hope that in a few months we’ll have a kid-friendly book called The Truth About Trolls. 

So far she seems happy with the first portrait.

 

Well-behaved Women

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Somewhere along the way I picked up an ancient doctrine that well-behaved women don’t brag about their work. 

I’ve seen it play out in various ways my own family–there’s a long-held tradition of apologizing for our cooking before we serve any meal, and I know I do it with my work before sharing it. I will mentally tear it down, quelling any satisfaction with the results that may lead to arrogance or delusion.

There seems to be this fear that being proud of something you’ve done makes you boastful, and by extension, unladylike.

 I don’t know why I still observe this one custom– aside from birthing and breast-feeding two kids I haven’t clung to too many other “lady like” customs. I don’t own a dress that fits, I haul firewood, and I work a full day for a full paycheck.

So tonight, instead of trying to figure out tradition, I just broke with it.

I have a show starting at EquinoxVillage gallery in Manchester, Vermont on Thursday, and the big guy and I have spent the better part of the last two hours matting and framing my efforts for the last few months. The big guy has gone to bed–he has to get up earlier than I do. So I took a little break to lean the fruits of our labor is against the wall of my studio, and, for the first time in my life, I let myself feel proud of the work I’ve done for the last few weeks.

It’s not very lady-like, but is the old saying goes, well behaved women seldom make history, and I’m not sure if they make much art either.

The exhibit opening is at 49 Maple St. in Manchester Vermont and is scheduled for Thursday at 5:30 PM, is a free event and will include music and refreshments. my work will be showing there from the 18th of this month until 17 March.

Experiments and the Koi Pocket Sketchers Box – An Unofficial Product Review

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A New York State of Line, Watercolor, 5×7

Getting outside to paint lets you see painting – and the world – in a whole new way. It also gives you a chance to experiment with different toys to make painting outside easier and more winter-proof.

I’ve been playing with waterbrushes and the Koi Pocket Sketcher Field Box for the last few days, and, while I’ve been a little clumsy getting used to the water-filled brush (instead of bringing along a collection of brushes), I’m finding it a fun way to make quick plein-air sketches.

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The included paints are very good quality – intense color – but I bought the kit for the convenience. The palettes and brushes all fit into a small box that can fit int a medium-sized purse.  If you have a place to set your paints with the open palette, you’ll find enough water in the brush to complete a larger piece, but if you’re in a rush or don’t have room, the sketchbook can hold a postcard-sized piece of paper. You can’t fit 2 water brushes in the little box, but I found I could fit a spotter with a trimmed handle in the little space and that along with the bigger brush gave me enough range to do some washes and dropping in color and then a few fine lines.

The other thing I liked about this kit was that you can fit a post-card sized piece of paper in the lid. There’s a thumb ring on the bottom of the box to hold the entire setup if your lap isn’t as spacious as mine, but I think you need larger hands than mine to make it work comfortably.  I was perfectly happy having my entire setup on my lap.

I’m still playing with my kits but I would highly recommend this little portable studio for anyone on a budget.

Disclaimer – the author has not been paid anything for this review.  Not a dime.  The sketchbox manufacturers haven’t even thrown her a fish-shaped pad of art paper, which she could really use to feed her painting addiction, so if this review is helpful to you in anyway, GOOD!  Get out there and paint.