See the amazing video of the making of the ceramic poppies for the Tower of London installation. All 888,246 are sold! See HERE. What a glorious recognition of honor.
I've seen more tributes to our serviceman through the NFL than anywhere else. The ceremony prior to last night's game was moving. Sadly, I rarely see poppies being sold here, unlike in England, where they are everywhere. Let's bring back the poppy!
For those who have served and for those who are serving, thank you.
See the amazing video of the making of the ceramic poppies for the Tower of London installation. All 888,246 are sold! See HERE. What a glorious recognition of honor.
I've seen more tributes to our serviceman through the NFL than anywhere else. The ceremony prior to last night's game was moving. Sadly, I rarely see poppies being sold here, unlike in England, where they are everywhere. Let's bring back the poppy!
For those who have served and for those who are serving, thank you.
The gatheing of materials, and the preparation – both physically and mentally, to begin an art project is ritual I embrace. You get an idea, it begins to fester, and you are compelled to follow through. Sometimes the results are immediate, and sometimes the process is more drawn out because you can't actually commit the time, so you ponder and plan until you can finally dig in. That place of being in limbo is where I love to be. You are eager to begin, but circumstances are preventing it at the moment, so you remain in a state-of-mind that continues imagining all the possible ways the concept will evolve. Then you get to launch, and execute, and test out your theories, but inevitably the thing takes a radical turn and you trust the movement toward something else, because art always has a way of doing that….you have to release the control over pre-conceived notions and let it just happen. It's all good.
I've been collecting notes on classes I will be proposing for next year and I am so excited about the gathering of ideas, especially as I can visualize the samples I will prepare, with wiggle room left in the plans to allow each artist to individualize the assignments. I love to teach process, but disguise it as a project, so there is satisfaction in getting something completed, with something to show for your investment of time and tuition. The key is to present a technique, then invite the participants to interpret through their own filters, so it's theirs, not a derivative of mine. Guidance and critique is something I love to offer, when asked. I love hearing about a struggle or an intention and problem solving the various methods toward a happy end. If one student verbalizes a concern, all surrounding students benefit from the consultation. I get it that some students have performance anxiety and can be shy to create at a table of unknowns. However, if we are open to the process, and seriously curious about how to elevate our work, then it's important to make the most of your appointment with creativity and let yourself be vulnerable. We all end up learning from each other as we plow through the details of the assignment. Believe me, I'm nervous wreck at the beginning of a workshop. If you could have seen me back in speech class, or at a piano recital (where I ran off crying), you'd never think I could manage standing in front of a class. But when you are doing something you love, and feel passionately about, it's easy. We go to workshops to learn something, but I always hope that the most important thing you take away is the enthusiasm to keep going, keep doing stuff, keep creating. I hope you connect with other like-minded souls, and feel empowered with your desire to be an artist, and recognize that you have to continue picking up the pencil or brush as often as you can….not just in class. The more work you do on your own, the better questions you end up bringing to class. It's all good.
Here is where my head is today….prep for an upcoming workshop. Ritual: I've gathered the supplies, and I've loosely planned the project. Pages of sketches and notes. No time to work. So I get to enjoy limbo until I can dig in next week. Happy to be here. I'll keep you posted.
The gatheing of materials, and the preparation – both physically and mentally, to begin an art project is ritual I embrace. You get an idea, it begins to fester, and you are compelled to follow through. Sometimes the results are immediate, and sometimes the process is more drawn out because you can't actually commit the time, so you ponder and plan until you can finally dig in. That place of being in limbo is where I love to be. You are eager to begin, but circumstances are preventing it at the moment, so you remain in a state-of-mind that continues imagining all the possible ways the concept will evolve. Then you get to launch, and execute, and test out your theories, but inevitably the thing takes a radical turn and you trust the movement toward something else, because art always has a way of doing that….you have to release the control over pre-conceived notions and let it just happen. It's all good.
I've been collecting notes on classes I will be proposing for next year and I am so excited about the gathering of ideas, especially as I can visualize the samples I will prepare, with wiggle room left in the plans to allow each artist to individualize the assignments. I love to teach process, but disguise it as a project, so there is satisfaction in getting something completed, with something to show for your investment of time and tuition. The key is to present a technique, then invite the participants to interpret through their own filters, so it's theirs, not a derivative of mine. Guidance and critique is something I love to offer, when asked. I love hearing about a struggle or an intention and problem solving the various methods toward a happy end. If one student verbalizes a concern, all surrounding students benefit from the consultation. I get it that some students have performance anxiety and can be shy to create at a table of unknowns. However, if we are open to the process, and seriously curious about how to elevate our work, then it's important to make the most of your appointment with creativity and let yourself be vulnerable. We all end up learning from each other as we plow through the details of the assignment. Believe me, I'm nervous wreck at the beginning of a workshop. If you could have seen me back in speech class, or at a piano recital (where I ran off crying), you'd never think I could manage standing in front of a class. But when you are doing something you love, and feel passionately about, it's easy. We go to workshops to learn something, but I always hope that the most important thing you take away is the enthusiasm to keep going, keep doing stuff, keep creating. I hope you connect with other like-minded souls, and feel empowered with your desire to be an artist, and recognize that you have to continue picking up the pencil or brush as often as you can….not just in class. The more work you do on your own, the better questions you end up bringing to class. It's all good.
Here is where my head is today….prep for an upcoming workshop. Ritual: I've gathered the supplies, and I've loosely planned the project. Pages of sketches and notes. No time to work. So I get to enjoy limbo until I can dig in next week. Happy to be here. I'll keep you posted.
I was looking through some old Halloween files, and found these…from 2006 when these GPP stamps first came out. It's been a while since I've stamped….when was the last time you did?
Have a fun Halloween – love that it's a Friday!!
I was looking through some old Halloween files, and found these…from 2006 when these GPP stamps first came out. It's been a while since I've stamped….when was the last time you did?
Have a fun Halloween – love that it's a Friday!!
This photo is proof of what happens to our pumpkins in this neighborhood. Some years we carve elaborate faces and the warm days encourage mold growth and shriveling before Halloween even arrives. We will also notice that a grin is altered by little creatures – sometimes adding to the grimacing appeal, but often ruining a perfect composition of eyes and teeth. This year we hadn't even sharpened the knives, and our prize pumpkins became a meal for a furry intruder. Each day they became scarier and scarier in appearance as you can see.
We've been collecting faux pumpkins, and have invested a few afternoons for adding marks with Sharpies and paint pens. This year's crop isn't ready for a photo shoot so I will revisit a few from previous Halloweens – still looking smart…..no bitemarks in these! Maybe you'll try painting the fakes…there is still time!
This photo is proof of what happens to our pumpkins in this neighborhood. Some years we carve elaborate faces and the warm days encourage mold growth and shriveling before Halloween even arrives. We will also notice that a grin is altered by little creatures – sometimes adding to the grimacing appeal, but often ruining a perfect composition of eyes and teeth. This year we hadn't even sharpened the knives, and our prize pumpkins became a meal for a furry intruder. Each day they became scarier and scarier in appearance as you can see.
We've been collecting faux pumpkins, and have invested a few afternoons for adding marks with Sharpies and paint pens. This year's crop isn't ready for a photo shoot so I will revisit a few from previous Halloweens – still looking smart…..no bitemarks in these! Maybe you'll try painting the fakes…there is still time!
For several years I've been infatuated with cardboard. The truth about any supply or substrate: the more you use it, the more you learn. Since cardboard is a plentiful supply, it is always within reach, and you can try all kinds of things with it. There's nothing precious about it….trial and error is a good thing. The only thing you need is a fresh set of blades and some imagination. After writing articles about using cardboard, including matchboxes and small kraft boxes, for more than a year in my column for Somerset Studio, I thought the year end finale would be the perfect place to show off my Gingerbread House.
I've been wanting to make one like this for a while, and finally got around to it. As I say in the article, it doesn't take any less time to make versus bake, but it will last alot longer. I planned ahead, and have hinged openings in the back, with little shelves behind each window, to accommodate a battery operated votive. HCIT!
My scallop and stone stencils were the perfect tool to create shingles and a brick fireplace. I have to admit I kinda knew that when I was designing them. I know, it's early for thinking about Christmas decorations….I'm just putting out Halloween stuff….but it's the time of year when days fly by. Let me know if you make one of your own!
For several years I've been infatuated with cardboard. The truth about any supply or substrate: the more you use it, the more you learn. Since cardboard is a plentiful supply, it is always within reach, and you can try all kinds of things with it. There's nothing precious about it….trial and error is a good thing. The only thing you need is a fresh set of blades and some imagination. After writing articles about using cardboard, including matchboxes and small kraft boxes, for more than a year in my column for Somerset Studio, I thought the year end finale would be the perfect place to show off my Gingerbread House.
I've been wanting to make one like this for a while, and finally got around to it. As I say in the article, it doesn't take any less time to make versus bake, but it will last alot longer. I planned ahead, and have hinged openings in the back, with little shelves behind each window, to accommodate a battery operated votive. HCIT!
My scallop and stone stencils were the perfect tool to create shingles and a brick fireplace. I have to admit I kinda knew that when I was designing them. I know, it's early for thinking about Christmas decorations….I'm just putting out Halloween stuff….but it's the time of year when days fly by. Let me know if you make one of your own!