Compositional Conversation- Stage 10

It's been an amazing journey so far with our collaborative art piece, Compositional Conversation, and the road hasn't ended yet: there are still three more artists to put their hands to the work before Terry Jarrard-Dimond finally takes over and brings it all home for us. In the meantime, Paula Swett has contributed her amazing voice to our ever-evolving Conversation, and her report and photographs are now posted on Terry's blog for all to see and comment on.

Eye Of The Quilter: Inspiration Contest

Well, as I said in my last post, I was certain that I had not been chosen for a spot in The Eye Of The Quilter: Inspiration photography show that will begin touring with the International Quilt Festival, starting in Houston in October. Turns out, I was wrong- I got my acceptance letter this evening!!

I need to review the rules of the contest before I post my winning photo- that might be forbidden while it's on the road. If it isn't, I'll put it up this weekend.

YAY!

Friday, Again

It was a long week and I found it difficult to get back into my studio routine, but I did manage to produce some work after all. I think I can forgive myself, though: I found out in the span of just a few days that 1) I didn't get chosen for the Denver gallery, and 2) my magazine article was declined.

Well, boo.

I felt sorry for myself for almost a full day, got bored with that, and then got my tush back in the chair.

This canvas (repainted) met this textile piece and magic happened.





Over the weekend I'd done a 4-step white-to-black gradation, hoping to get some interesting textures in the two mid-ranged pieces. I did, though not to the extent I had hoped. More experimentation is necessary to find the right recipe. I was a little paranoid about not getting a good solid black that I think I added a little too much dye powder. I'll scale it back next time.

I took the two blackest pieces, neither of which had much variation in color at all, and discharged them with Softscrub paste and hand-made stamps.



I loved the way the dye discharged to an earthy brown... luscious color that put me in the mood for fall.

In that spirit, I took on my largest project of the week, and the one that ended up being the most fun, too: playing with deconstructed screen printing.

I've been having some wonderful email conversations with artist Rayna Gillman and while most of our chats aren't necessarily about DSP, spending time browsing her blogs and web site helped reaffirm my desire to explore the outer edges of surface design.

The set up for this technique was more intensive than the technique itself but now that I've built my tools and played with thickened dyes, it will go much faster and smoother next time (probably later today- I have another screen and more fabric prepared).

First, I took my old paper-making silk screens (I used to use them as molds- guess I will need new molds before I make paper again) and covered them in duct tape to protect the wood and create "wells" upon which to spread the pigment.



The duct tape needed 24 hours to cure to keep it from sliding around when it gets moist, so I moved on to creating another stamping board, this one larger than my usual one.


The smaller board measures about 18" x 14". I used a scrap piece of masonite, padded it with an old towel, turned a piece of commercial fabric to the wrong side and attached it to the board by taping it with duct tape at the back. Then I gesso'd over the surface to make it easier to wipe clean.

The larger piece at the back is the one I made yesterday. It was constructed in essentially the same manner but I used foam core for the backing and an old sheet for the padding. I haven't Gesso'd the top, yet.

Next I chose my colors. I've been in a somewhat darker mood lately, and the onset of fall is effecting me as well, so in honor of both of those influences, I've gone to the earthy end of the spectrum. Bronze and Avocado, with Brown Rose as an accent. I mixed a small amount of each and thickened them in the usual manner with sodium alginate.

In order to create a pattern on the screen that I could "deconstruct" onto fabric later, I covered one of my padded boards with plastic (to protect it), crumpled a paper lunch sack I'd previously cut open, laid it on the plastic and then laid the screen on top of that. As I flooded the screen with the thickened dyes, the paper would wrinkle and create great texture that would dry on the screen.

This worked well and I got some wonderful creases and patterns. I'm still not sure exactly how much dye to use, and whether I should squeegee most of it out or leave a good portion on the screen itself- information that I'm sure will come with experimentation and experience- but once I had my pattern the way I wanted it, I lifted the screen, peeled off the now wet paper sack (which I used to make a monoprint on soda-soaked, dry cotton muslin) and set it aside to dry.

I repeated the process for the second screen, adding in bits of textured ephemera underneath in the hopes of generating more exciting textures, and then set that screen aside to dry, as well.

By last night, they were ready to be used. I laid out dry, ironed, soda-soaked white muslin on top of the large padded board, laid one of the screens on the fabric and flooded it with un-dyed thickened water. I pulled prints off of each screen until it looked as if there was hardly any dye left and then I took them to the sink and scrubbed them clean. For a couple of the prints, I flooded the screen with both clean alginate and thickened Brown Rose at the same time.





I'm more pleased with my results than I thought I would be when they went into the machine this morning for the wash-out: the pieces had dried very quickly and I didn't think they would hold the dyes well because of it (Procion MX likes to "batch" damp for 24-48 hours). I did lose enough dye in the wash out to compel me to figure out how to keep the fabric damp for longer periods without smudging and bleeding. Time to hit the books (or take a class or watch a DVD).

I foresee a wonderful winter of exploration for me in surface design. Now if I could just manage to devote as much time to my machine stitching!

Finally, I looked out of the window the other day and saw this guy sitting on the back fence.

Red-Shouldered Hawk

Happy Creating!

Compostional Conversation- Stage Seven

Stage seven of our cooperative textile project, Compositional Conversation, has been posted on Terry's blog. Go read about Fulvia Luciano's experience with our ever-changing art piece and check out her video, too. Comment love is, of course, desired and shamelessly begged for (at least by me).

10 Ways To Revitalize Your Creative Muse

I had written this in hopes of having it published, but the magazine declined so I'm posting it here, instead!

10 Ways To Revitalize Your Creative Muse

If your muse is feeling droopy, has gone on vacation and left no cell number, or has simply gotten stuck in a pattern that chokes off spontaneity and fun, then it’s time to be proactive and remind your muse of the beauty of creation. It’s easier than you think!

1. Remember your bravery.

Edgar Allen Poe once said, “There is no passion in nature so demoniacally impatient, as that of him who, shuddering upon the edge of a precipice, thus meditates a plunge.” Courage is everything to an artist. The courage to make a mess, the courage to ignore what others are doing and take your own path, the courage to face a blank canvas or an empty sheet of paper or a yard of stark white fabric and blaze ahead with color, stitch, marks, sketches- some of the very elements that are the bread and butter of artists. So reconnect with your bravery. You don’t have to go skydiving or swim with the sharks, but if that’s what felts your wool, do it. Sing in the grocery store (yes, out loud!). Look total strangers in the eye, smile and ask how their day is going. Listen when they tell you. Take that favorite piece of fabric that you dyed back in 1980 and then loved too much to do anything with and rip it into pieces. Reassemble it, with other torn scraps of paper and fabric in your stash, into a quick and sloppy collage. And then don’t rearrange endlessly until you’re blind, leave it as it is and enjoy the textures, movement and abandon of the process. Do whatever it takes to remind yourself that right now, today, no one is creating art that’s more relevant to you than what comes from your own hands.

2. Zoom in.

Train yourself to notice details. If you can afford it, get yourself a good camera with excellent optic zoom and macro settings (forget about digital zoom- I just about guarantee you that you’ll hate the grainy, pixilated photos they produce). Then get down on the ground and crawl around, taking close-ups of the grass, shrubberies, bugs, the nap of your carpet. Everything has texture and the closer you get, the more abstracted the object becomes- art lies in those details, I promise you.

No camera? Break out the sketchbook and try to capture what you see, and don’t let the old bugaboo, “But I can’t draw!” stop you- this isn’t fine art meant for your next gallery show, it’s just for you. As long as it comes close to capturing the essence of your subject, you’re doing just fine.

3. Spend a week at a folk school or artist’s retreat.

I cannot recommend this highly enough. A week or a weekend, cloistered away with other artists, is not only refreshing to your muse- it can also be a transformative experience that impacts you and your art forever.

My personal favorite retreat is the John C. Campbell Folk School, but there are dozens more schools and retreats offered around the country- and around the world, if you’re inclined to explore new cultures. Nothing reinforces your confidence in yourself, re-energizes your desire to just make art, or gives you a better sounding board than spending time with craftspeople who understand what you do and accept you as the artist you know you can be.

The blacksmiths hovering lovingly over their forges, the wood-turners who change a hunk of lifeless oak into sheer poetry, the fiber artists who share their love of textiles and fine craftsmanship- these people get you. They understand the crazy and sudden impulse that pops up at three in the morning to jump out of bed and start a new piece of art. They know the frustration when a piece goes wrong, and they can often help you find its proper voice. And they love their art as much as you love yours. Lifelong friendships can come from such experiences, but even if you never hear from any of them again, the memories alone that you’ve generated can pull you through your darkest periods of inactivity and lackluster inspiration.

4. Buy a box of crayons.

And don’t skimp on the 8-pack, either, go all out and get yourself the 120 unit box with the little sharpener at the back. If the waxy smell and bright color palette alone aren’t enough to get your muse excited, it’s time to scribble. Forget coloring books, though- we’re artists, we don’t want to color in the lines! Use plain copy paper to make some rubbings of items around the house, doodle your name in different typefaces, scrub hard to lay down a thick coating of wax and then scratch into it with the back of a paint brush, your thumbnail or fork tines, peel the paper off the crayons and enjoy feeling the smooth texture between your fingers. Let all of those glorious colors take you back to a simpler time when creating art was about how joyful it made you feel, and not about meeting deadlines or stressing over juried entries.

5. Clean your studio or workspace.

Nothing will keep me out of my studio more effectively than a huge mess. My muse freezes up, my housewife sensibilities flee, and all I want to do is shut the door and sneak away quietly before The Art Guilt digs in its heels. But conversely, nothing screams, “Create art NOW!” to me more than an empty desk and cleared out work surfaces. I defy you to walk away from a clean studio without even the slightest desire to get in there and mess it up again. Yes, cleaning is a terrible task that no one should ever have to undertake. In a perfect world, The Cleaning Sprites would show up the instant you fall asleep every night and begin their work- by morning, your house would be shiny and new. If only.

6. Teach a kid (or ten) to fingerpaint.

If there are children in your life- your own or someone else’s- introducing them to art is not only a delight for both you and them, I believe it is a responsibility that every artist shares. We can no longer count on our schools to scrape together the funding for art programs, and parents are often too busy, tired and distracted to give much thought to art education. As artists, we can fill that gap and in the process, reestablish a link with our own creativity.

Gather your favorite children, throw together some pots of paint and large sheets of white paper and start splashing paint around. Mix colors together until they’re muddy, mash painted papers one onto the other and then peel them apart. Encourage your budding protégés to sign their work and display it proudly. Laugh, play, and most of all, watch your young charge’s fearless approach to creating and remember it. If you can see art through their eyes, even for an afternoon, you can possibly lure your muse back from the Caribbean vacation on which she’s slipped away.

7. Take a long walk somewhere beautiful

Inspiration exists everywhere in the world immediately around us- we just often can’t or won’t see it. It’s not stubbornness on our part, or a lack of imagination, that prevents us from keeping our heads up and our eyes scanning our environment- usually it’s as simple as being out of practice. Take some time to explore the forest behind your house, the local city park, or your back yard. And if you’re city folk, prowl the older sections of town and seek out the aging architecture you find there. Notice the mature landscaping and the old growth trees lining neighborhood streets. Photograph or sketch everything that catches your eye. What you’re trying to achieve is an understanding that art is everywhere, existing in everything, if only it could be seen with eyes that understand. Let those eyes be your eyes.

8. Mine the bottom of your stash for treasure.

This can easily go along with number 5 in my list, as both tasks can be accomplished at the same time. However, even in a pristine studio space, I bet you have containers hidden from view that are overflowing with the detritus of creating art. These boxes are jam-packed with inspiration. Scraps of fabrics and papers that you’ve ripped, sewn, cut apart, tossed aside, forgotten about, remembered later and then forgot again- they are all fodder for jump-starting your creativity. Dig through them again. Reach in up to your elbows and pull out the first ten pieces you can get your fingers around. Then challenge yourself to assemble them- as is, with no further alteration- into a collage. You’d be amazed at where that one little messy collage will take your muse. You could even wind up creating the pivotal series of your career from that one, seemingly insignificant, exercise. Or maybe nothing else will happen with it- but at the very least, you can end your day knowing that you finished something, that you created art and followed through on it until it was complete.

9. Go to galleries and museums

This bit of advice may seem like a no-brainer, but really- when was the last time you visited an art gallery or museum as an artist, rather than as a tourist? So often, when we walk into the hushed, expectant atmosphere of an art gallery, we’re suddenly left feeling like outsiders, coming to gawk at the pretty paintings. We forget for a while that we actually understand this stuff, that it lives in our blood and that, while we may never achieve the status of “Master”, we are nonetheless active participants in the culture that produced such works.

So visit a gallery. Take your time with pieces of art that capture your imagination. Try to determine what it is about the piece that clicks for you. Deconstruct the art so that you can better understand the artist and his or her vision, and if you’re lucky enough to have the artist present, talk to them. Ask questions about their work, delve into their intent, their vision, their technique. Most artists who attend their own shows are eager and enthusiastic to discuss what they do and why they do it. They want their art to be understood- just as you want yours to be similarly examined and understood.

10. Cut yourself some slack

You are an artist. But no one can be in the process of creating art every minute of the day. Life, family, friends, play time away from the studio, time for quiet contemplation- all of these are essential to balancing our lives. They are equally as important as our art and deserve to have our full attention. Feeling guilty because you’re too busy to make art today or next week, punishing yourself because you just don’t feel like doing anything this afternoon but sit and watch TV or read a book, convincing yourself that you’re just not good enough to be counted in the ranks of the artists you admire- these are all the little self-defeating games we play with our muse. The longer and more fervently you repeat these mantras, the more likely you'll convince yourself that your muse will leave and take up residence with someone more willing to be open to the gifts it provides.

So allow yourself to take a break, guilt-free. Don’t worry- if you want it, your muse will still be waiting for you when you return.

Your Muse Isn’t Dead, Honestly

I used to fear that my creativity would eventually dry up altogether, that some day I’d run out of ideas or the desire to make art- as if talent is finite: once you use it up, it’s gone. But really, that was just a fear, an irrational belief that I didn’t really deserve an artist’s life, that I wasn’t good enough or strong enough or filled with enough vision. Baloney! Creativity just asks for one simple thing: commitment. Commit to yourself, commit to your muse, and the art will follow.

Textures for Inspiration

I did some texture studies while on vacation... here are a few of my favorites.

(Please note: If these posts are too photo-heavy and are keeping you from visiting more often because of slow upload times, please let me know- there are probably ways I can minimize that issue.)

Worn graffiti and painted handbills on a retaining wall of the Schuylkill River, PA.

Trees on the Princeton University campus.

Granite.

A natural spring in PA running down over rocks covered with roots.

And some nature studies:

International Quilt Show, Houston

I am pleased to find after returning home that the hummers are still here- in droves. Sitting outside yesterday I could see, in my full field of vision, no less than 4 at a time, and sometimes far more than that.


The International Quilt Show, Houston is coming to town. This will be my first quilt show of any kind, and I'm really excited to go (and to hopefully meet some of you, as well)! I'm signed up for three classes: Magic Garden- Making Fabric Three Dimensional, taught by Tracie Lyn Huskamp and Marilyn Huskamp; Boarders, Batting and Binding by Terri Burton; and Japaenese and Specialty Paper Primer taught by Janet A. Lasher.

The paper class is the one I'm most looking forward to, though it might wind up seeming very familiar to me. I've been working with paper for many years now, but the class just sounded like too much fun to pass up.

Beautiful lengths of dyed muslin in greens and browns are coming out of the dye baths this morning. They're destined to be experimented on with deconstructed screen printing and thickened dye painting. My results with DSP have been spotty at best, but that's what experimentation is for!


This batch is Procion MX dyes from Emerald Green to Rust Orange. As planned, I just closed my eyes and picked randomly, hoping for unanticipated results. Score!

And finally, the IQS photography contest Eye Of The Quilter winners will be contacted this week by ground mail. Fingers crossed that a fun little letter appears in my box!

Happy Creating!

Compositional Conversation- Stage 6

Leslie Bixel has applied her talent and experience to the Conversation! Go read her blog post and see her photos of her time with this unique collaborative textile project at Terry Jarrard-Dimon's blog.

Anybody Home?

The answer, of course, is 'Yes- me!' After a fun trip into the 'wilds' of Pennsylvania and New Jersey, we're home! Like any good trip, it was a blast, but so busy that it wasn't exactly relaxing. Still, I feel refreshed and inspired, and ready to dive back into the studio tomorrow morning. More about that in a minute, though. First, some eye candy from our trip.

I grew up in in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania, and in the surrounding areas to the north and south. I often forget, living here in Texas for almost 2 decades now, her raw beauty.

The Nesquehoning Valley from the lookout point at the top of Flagstaff Mountain.

The photo of the chipmunk (above) is a good example of how your heart can miss something without your head being fully aware of it.

I had asked my father, who has always loved to lose himself for hours behind the wheel on the twisty, mountainous back roads of the state, to take me on a drive of some of his favorite places. During one stop to take photos, I saw a darting movement out of the corner of my eye. I went still, focused on that area, and saw a face with tiny, scared eyes looking back at me from inside a hollowed-out tree trunk. We don't have chipmunks in our area and I haven't seen one in years, so spotting this little guy was an unexpected joy.

One of my father's favorite locations, and reasonably so, is what the people in my father's family have always called "The 20 Acres". These are small parcels of land that are scattered across a couple of counties which, its said, all belongs to my family. Although these patches of corn fields and forests have collectively been known as the "20 acres", there is some debate as to how many acres are actually involved.

Still, they offer lovely vistas for a flatlander like myself.


Another location on Dad's tour was the family cemetery, a small plot of land behind the industrial gasses company, AirProducts. The plot, which contains about 25 worn and now mostly illegible headstones, is fenced off from the AirProducts property but despite this, I find the location of the gasses plant irritating. When I was a child, the cemetery sat nestled almost into the woods at the back of a large, quiet field that it shared only with tall grasses, light summer breezes, and deep, undisturbed blankets of winter snow.


Despite the proximity of the chemical plant, a small visitor- a groundhog- evidently lives nearby and enjoys the solitude the graves offer.


The ranches, farms and lost little ponds of Pennsylvania offer their own peaceful solitude.




And everywhere, there are thousands of flower varieties, all thick with honey bees that pollinate the entire region.


One of Dad's favorite locations is an abandoned house that he swears is haunted. This house has stood desolate and empty since I was a small child. I would love to buy it and show it the love and care it needs- such a lovely little brick home should not go deserted forever.


Finally, a sneak peek of fall is appearing in the trees. South Texas doesn't experience much fall color, the leaves turn brown in November or December and fall to the ground, and while that contains its own simple beauty, there's nothing like fiery reds, oranges and yellows dotting the landscape.


Later on in the week, after I've had a chance to catch up on my email, blog reading, and all the other little online connections I like to make, I will blog with photos about the New Jersey half of the vacation!

This week will see me dyeing more fabrics. However, instead of choosing dye colors that I can predict the gradation results of, I'm going to be blindly choosing two colors from my stash and using them in a six-step process. My hope is to wind up with some lovely browns, but I really don't know what to expect exactly- and that's the point.

Also, don't forget to check Terry's blog tomorrow for Stage 6 of Compositional Conversations... things are heating up! Terry and fellow CC alum Fulvia Luciano have even designed a neat little video and graph to show our progress. Please go check it out.

More from me later in the week. In the meantime, happy creating!