I am enjoying these little windows... literally made in the "little windows" of my days.
What fascinates me as an artist is the grid of geometric window panes against the curving lines of outside plants (?) organic world... Could this little paper quilt be about inside vs. outside? Control versus wildness? Me?
I finished sewing this while watching the Texas college football game last night. Much of my sewn work has come about because when the kids were little there wasn't time to do more than a "scrap" of a painting. These I stored in shoe boxes, one in my car, and others color coded in my studio. In the evening when I needed to be watching the kids or just near the family I could keep "working" by having my hands sew small pieces together to make larger works.
This window was a scrap painting made from looking at a Cuban window. I dream someday of living in the Caribbean and living with windows that have no screens, no glass, only wooden shutters (to keep out the larger nocturnal flying insects). The lime green is my favorite tropical color. It is sewn papers, 7 1/2 x 7 1/2 inches.
Missing my usual Thanksgiving centerpiece...my purple papie mache turkey, "gratitude Dude". So this year I substituted a paper bowl in the form of hands holding a peace symbol. Inside the bowl is a collage of found text that expressed my intentions in the molding of the pulp. The essence of this holiday is to count our blessings and work toward a heart of service and linking of community. We filled it today with slips of paper listing what we felt thankful for. The bowl was brimming over...
May you have a blessed and rich Thanksgiving holiday.
More memorabilia of past Thanksgivings. I made series of these cut outs that sat upright, wedged in grooved hunks of 2x4s. Sold all my "smoked turkeys"- who looked a little like a hippie birds grooving on the corner of Haight and Ashbury.
This is about 16 x 12 inches cut luan. $100 (cobwebs free)
I apologize for upsetting several viewers with yesterday's image. It is an uncomfortable fact of my life on a farm. Birds are sacrificed for our meals. Many, most who live far from the farms, would prefer not to recognize it and just keep believing that food comes from stores. I think our lack of connection to the source of our food is both perverse and down right dangerous.
I am not a vegetarian. But I do concern myself with the humane treatment of animals and the respectful cultivation of our nutritional needs. I buy free-range meats from small growers who can vouch that their animals lived stress-free and rural lives. I wish I could afford organic certified and heirloom products all the time because I worry about what I feed my sons and how the environment is protected.
There is no getting around the fact that hundreds of thousands, probably millions, of turkeys have been slaughtered for tomorrow's meal. Thanks should be given for the abundance, and for the farmers who have worked so hard, against elements of nature and vagaries of the market, to offer something on your table. Eat up!
This painting is from 1991, when we ran a poultry farm. Yesterday I found a stash of old paintings under the barn steps. Each brought back memories. For nine years we raised and sold holiday turkeys. Now that the farm is no longer running, the paintings, some funny and others, such as this, more macabre, keep me connected with the source of our food. All across the country today people are preparing for the holiday meal. I have a pot of soup on the stove and, soon, an apple pie in the oven. Both boys are home. Almost constantly on top of each other. It's a serene world in the kitchen... warm, bright, sweet smelling. Outside it is raining, almost freezing, and a palette of cool grays and dull oranges.
I've been tagged by Martha Miller, and I've tagged these 6 blogs: http://www.nancytobin.wordpress.com http://www.howlingspiders.com http://www.holdthisthought.org http://www.figurespace.com/ http://bamboo1studio.blogspot.com http://www.lindablondheimartnotes.blogspot.com
1. Link to person who tagged you. 2. Mention the rules 3. Tell 6 quirky but boring, unspectacular details about yourself 4. Tag 6 other bloggers by linking to them 5. Go to each person's blog and leave a comment that lets them know they've been tagged
And here are my boring details
1. My toenails are always painted. Never ever, ever, ever, revealed unpainted. 2. I really dislike and procrastinate having to make phone calls. 3. I love file cabinets 4. Every cup in my kitchen cabinet is different, and each holds a memory. 5. I can count to ten in chinese- a memory from age 4. 6. I have lived most of my life without television, and still wish it that way.
I hung 16 works at Lakeville Ct's Morgan Lehman Gallery today. The show opens December 6th, from 4-7.
It is called "Recession Concession", a group show with all works under $500. My weeds on wood paintings and my miniature fruit blocks and landscapes in box frames are available for viewing. I have three walls to my own!!!!
Also in the show are Erica Crofut, Kate Knapp, Judith Wyer, Pilar Proffitt, Margot Trout, Peter Kirkiles, Charlie Noyes, Roger McKee, Karl Saliter, Geoffrey Parker, Janet Andre Block, and Bill Amundson.
The show hours, in addition to the opening, will be 12-5, December 7, 13, 14, 20 and 21. Stop in and see whats on the wals!
The word "inexplicable" is collages onto the side of the panel. It somehow fit the quirky nature of this vital object.
Collage maps and paint on wood panel
6 1/2 x 7 inches
Now let me explain. Inside my purse I have: sunglasses, sketchbook, list book, receipts, recipes, mittens, wallet (with more receipts, kid pictures, insurance and credit cards), datebook, hairbands, more receipts, checkbook, digital camera, lip gloss, letter due yesterday (!), emergency cosmetic bag, three pans, one pencil, business cards, tissues, lip stick, cell phone.
Not in my purse: cash, rebate paperwork, my mind (that is already somewhere else).
This just came out today! The article is written by Frank Matheis and the photos are by Bibiana Matheis. Together they have captured my studio and the nature of my inspiration. Frank's words craft a flowing story that includes my family, my daily painting, my love for where I live, my desire to travel, and my need to mark my Time. The article is beautifully done. I am both thrilled and honored.
My studio is freezing. I spent yesterday putting up plastic "walls" to make the space heater fill a more intimate space more efficiently. Today I forced myself to paint from 11am to 4pm. My beach bag is full of papers. Within the surface of the painting are memories and maps.
I carry my blessings in my dreams. While sleeping, I float above the horizon and dream obsessively about portable containers, such as suitcases, car trunks, and handbags.. Mostly, I can't get everything into them. They explode, fall apart, become unglued, and float away. Inevitably and exhaustedly I surrender the battle to control the packing. Then my wings evaporate, and I fall. Realizing I can't go from one place to another, I wake up at home. 10 x 12 inches, paint on maps on panel
I was working with the first image that came to mind...and in the process I was not sure who, of the two figures, are more vulnerable- there are two kinds of pain to armor oneself against- physical and spiritual. In a quiet moment of post-drawn reflection I was reading Kahil Gibran and struck by his words, Life is bitter when..." the heart is drunken with overmindfulness of self." Time to close the studio door, go under the lights and watch my young son play his last football game of the season.
I have been feeling exhausted so, in addition to reading more than painting, I have decided to work small and with pen and ink. Reading Painters as Writers, an essay by Stephen Spender, which first appeared in Portfolio and Art News Annual (1962), p 73-83, he writes, "Painters live midway between the physical object which they paint and the physical object which is their painting." "Painters...seem groping towards self-knowledge..." 5 x 5 inches
Loved moving my Prince of Darkness painting down from the attic where he shocked young interlopers, to the port-o-let where he spied gleefully into private spaces of the art studio tour. The painting is on foam core with cutout eyes. The eyes can be removed for peeking, right now they have photos of eyes taped to cover the holes. I made it years ago for my son's class' haunted house.
Lost my camera somewhere in the loft so no pictures to share this evening. It was a crazy day- crazy good-lots of people- even three waiting as I opened the doors, (perhaps they had not set back their clocks?). I find there are a lot of artists in these here woods- and they all want to organize and be a part of the scene next year. The local reporter came by at one point, but I was almost too busy to speak with him so I am not sure what he will be printing. Some great friends from past years showed up, and a few art moms returned with their kids in tow for inspiration. It meant a whole lot to me. The contact, the community, the next generation... Over 80 people counted, wow- tonight I put my feet up and feel totally blessed, blissed, and exhausted.
It was a great success. Lots of people came by- friendly strangers and strange friends! My work filled the loft, and my helper silkscreened holiday gift savings cards as fast as they were snatched up. Dad's work really touched a lot of people. In addition to his lamps, installations, and stools, he has a new "line" of electronic jewelry- made from the gold contacts of computer parts, and heart of the chip details. The belt is a stunner- made to fit any waist. Tomorrow is another open studio day- I will post a picture of the inside of the port-o-let- the rented potty- with art.