The weight of rocks

I really like rocks. In this piece I created them both with sheer fabrics and muslin. Imaged on sheer fabrics, they have an almost liquid character—perfect for a landscape filled with dreams and memory. I also printed and painted them on muslin, creating areas of solidity. The acrylics behave completely differently monotype printed on different fabrics. This, combined with the intricate shapes of rocks and their shadows, makes them an appealing subject matter for me. Rocks provide weight. They imply a place of division – walls, the surface of the ground.  Yet rocks are reassuring and weighty. It’s pleasing to step on rocks. Deceptively simple, each has its own rich environment of color and pattern.

Landscapes of Dreams

Earlier this year I worked my way through a series combining landscapes with a dream-journey quality. I returned to my sketchbook frequently, seeing what ideas reappeared over time and how they changed. And I took my well-worn copy of Robert Frost poems with me on the way. I love his attention to observed detail, and apparent surface simplicity layered over well-considered ideas. “Now Let the Night Be,” was created from this process.

The title “Now let the Night Be” is a line from one of Robert Frost’s poems. His simple iambic rhythms evoke a sense of time and process. It helps me to create when I feed my soul with words from authors and poets who stir up thoughts. I printed and collaged sheer fabrics to create a misty, dream-like landscape.  Tree forms are both solid and ethereal. The arch suggests an invitation to enter, or a journey about to begin. Opaque printed muslin pieces with stitched texture and heavy rock forms provide a grounding for the dream.

Haiku Friday... Bird Wisdom

The bird as a symbol has appeared in other works in this series. Like a young girl, birds are fragile. Their footing can seem tenuous. And, as in folk tales and stories, the bird can be a messenger and guide. I placed this bird in the branches with the girl and then partially hid her through subtle coloring. .  Like messages themselves: sometimes hidden. But present if you are quiet. And patient. And open.

TBT – Fledgling: It’s Time to…

I remember sitting on the porch on a vacation in Maine, watching birds on a wire across the street. Their simple shape, so easily identifiable. And I envisioned this art quilt all at once at that moment. What if someone other than a bird was on the wire? What kind of story would that tell? Since beginning my artmaking with printing techniques and fabric collage in 2010, I have incorporated an image of a little girl in various pieces. I am emotionally travelling  her journey. And I have also printed birds. Here, they come together. I transferred the photographic image of the nest onto fabric and did a lot of detailed stitching to enhance its texture. But, in the space around the girl there is little detail. She is out there on her own. Are the birds observers? Messengers?

It’s time to fly, little girl.

: A Look Inside the Studio… “Neither Here Nor There”

This piece is about experience and emotion, not the technical aspects of creating it. But I worked out some new technical issues that I liked, using monoprinted background sheer fabrics as a basis for freehand drawing. I like the addition of this element to the texture of fabric collage.

What interests me about this subject matter is layers of experience. We see the girl, and also see some suggestions of inside of her. Working with fabric in layers, I physically create and then manipulate layers of color and texture. Layers of meaning are what interest me. Layers of fabric are my method of artmaking. The way of making is a perfect fit for the work’s meaning.

The completed work is HERE

Imagining the In-Between Stages

On every journey, there are in-between-stages…

Two books I just finished reading dealt with young people who are in-between, drifting, looking for meaning and the next step. I am drawn to the feeling of being unsettled. Something is changing. Circumstances are new. There are myriad possible answers to the question, “What happens next?” Have you felt this way? I have. As a child I did not like for things to be unsettled. The experience is the source of a recent work “Neither Here nor There.”

I like this girl. I find myself wondering about her—where she has been, what she is feeling. I want the loose drawing style to let her speak to many possible stages. She is not one particular girl. She is the heart of all girls’ journeys. Including the stages in-between.

 (See this work on my web site  HERE  )

Sunday Morning

Sunday morning.  Blueberries inside the pancakes. Simmered peaches on top of the pancakes. Slanted sun on the porch. Mozart playing. The pleasure of seeing it all come together—the sizzle of poured batter, the bubbles in the cooking cakes. So good when they don’t stick to the pan!  (“Is this heaven,” the stranger asked? Naw. It’s just Iowa.) Amen.

The Gift of Rain

Just as I was working on a rain-inspired piece in my studio this morning, the wind picked up in a way that said a storm was about to blow through. I was at a stopping point and went out on the front porch. What a gift! The rain transformed the scent of the air. It created magical patterns on the screens. It became a gentle percussion in the space. I was reminded of a hurricane day years ago when, locked up in the house with plywood-covered windows, grandma went to a window to peek out through a small crack. A brief ray of sun just hit the drops that covered our fence and its covering vines. A magical transformation! And grandma said, “Why look at that. Somebody has come and put diamonds all over our fence! How can that be?” The gift of rain. It was like that today. 

Journeying in Dreams

Aren’t dreams astonishing? As we sleep and darkness envelopes us, inside our heads unexplainable combinations of images and events create stories and suggestions. Remembering them, they don’t always make sense, Trying to remember them is not always possible, and yet there will be a nagging sense of having been someplace or having experienced something. In “Wingwalker,” I have drawn from dream and imaginary imagery. The parts tell a story: there is a journey, a sense of danger, the suggestion of possibilities, and juxtaposition of unlike elements. Awaking from this vision… what will have been experienced?

(My 3-panel work “Wingwalker” is included in the Nocturnes exhibit at Arts on Douglas in New Smyrna Beach, exhibiting till July 29. Such an interesting variety of works inspired by the concept of nocturnes. Nocturnes in music have a romantic or dreamy character suggestive of the night. In the visual arts, nocturnes deal more with the elements of nighttime.)

LONGING FOR WATER

This studio addition feels just right. I am drawn to water. On hot summer days I long for a cool body of water where I can dive in and feel the liquid blue. As a kid I spent most of each summer at our community pool. Water and its reflections appear in my artwork. So, this little birdbath right outside my studio window is an invitation to my neighborhood winged friends. I hope you will find this a place of refreshment. I’ll be watching for you while I work.

Change is Never Easy

DON’T DO IT! NOT YET! Cantaloupe seedlings on the porch are leaning into the sunlight. With a gentle hand we turn them so they will grow straight. “Noooo!” I can hear them resist. “We don’t WANT to change! We’ve gotten used to leaning this way. Now we have to do something NEW!” I get it. The light on the porch is warm and green, the ambiance among the other seedlings is inviting. They, of course, don’t know that this is just the place to learn. They don’t get to stay in their little pots. There’s a big world awaiting them. And so they resist change. I resist change. Unlike the seedlings, I actually know it’s tough out there. And change keeps you limber. Makes you stronger. Bending new ways is good.  But – oh – how I like it here in my little seedling pot.