ArtiphyTheHeart

Pulling Prints-Day 2

Yesterday I showed you my first gelatin print and today I have a few more to share.  

The first step in gelatin printing is inking up the gelatin plate.  After that there are lots of things that can be done to make a printed image.  

The print in yesterday's post was created by laying down a freehand cut image of a human figure on one half of the plate, then running lines and squiggles through the ink around it with a comb tool.  The paper to be printed was then layed on top of the plate and hand-burnished until the image transfered successfully.

Later that night I freehand cut two more human figures.  Then I cut some circles from a piece of cardstock which I notched with scissors, inked up my plate, layed down the pieces, and pulled this print:

Yesterday was my weekly art date with my friend Rita.  I decided to take the cut figures and another experimental print to use in the journal I'd be working on.  The pieces of cardstock I cut were actually layed into the paint, so the opposite side of these figures are covered with paint.  I could have printed from them while the paint was wet, but I chose instead to let them dry and use them as I would a die cut in my art journal.  

In the photo above, I layed one of the cut figures and two circles, one right side up and one upside down, on top of another print scrap then scanned the result so you could see what I'm talking about.

The photo above is the piece from my art journal.  This is the left side of a two page spread.  My book is too large to fit in the scanner opened out, so I'll show the pages one at a time.  Here I've combined the figure cuts with another print and other collage material on the page.

And here is the right side of the two page journal spread using the figure you saw in yesterday's post as well as other pieces of collage material and another small print.  

These are only the bare bones of my journal spread.  So much more will be added, and maybe I'll show you the finished pages when they're complete, but for now I wanted to show what I did with the figures and a few collage elements on a blank page so you could see them clearly for what they are.  

I love the texture and the color changes where the two colors met when the brayer carried the ink from bottom to top on the plate, and I love how clearly the cut figure picked this up.

If you're interested in printing and print making, I left a link for a great book in my post yesterday and today I'll give you another.  This is not a new book, but it's really one of the best: Printmaking: History and Process.  It is quite expensive, but most college libraries have copies on hand and if you're lucky, you might find one at your public library also.  I checked my copy out from a local community college library and am working my way through it a little at a time, savoring every moment!  ...And if you're inclined to give me a gift, this book would top my list!  

Pulling Prints

Happy May, Everyone!  

There's a project I have in queue that involves quite a bit of hand printing, so I've been spending a lot of time pulling prints.  I love free-cutting shapes, especially off-beat human shapes in various poses, so today I added a couple of free cut circles and a person to produce a collaged monotype from a gelatin plate print.  

This is the first print from my trial run.  I wanted to experiment with paint and color since I have decided to use acrylic instead of ink for my project, and in our dry heat I knew I'd need to add a bit of water instead of medium to thin the paint and extend the drying time.   

I'll be playing with prints over the next few weeks, experimenting with lots of techniques and processes, adding them to other work as well, so check back often for updates.  

In the meantime, if you're interested in print making without investing in a lot of costly equipment, you might want to treat yourself to a copy of The Instant Printmaker: Simple Printing Methods to Try atHome (Watson-Guptill Famous Artists).  I'm reviewing what I learned about printing in college, and this book is a great re-introduction with hands-on projects and techniques. 

Between Covers

In a nutshell, while I do lots of other things, my primary craft is bookbinding, my fine art is painting and collage, and my experiments take place in mixed-media sketchbooks and art journals.  What you usually see on my blog are collaged pages from art journals, once in a while a bound book or two, and almost never, a painting.  It's all about what I choose to share.  But there are other ways of sharing, and letting you into one of my practices and thought processes is what I want to share today.

About a third of what I do is done in the field.  This means in open places, away from the confines and comfort of home and studio.  I do this purposely.  I find that my brain works differently in public places.  Not surprising, since it's taking-in different stimuli and responding to it.  But I've also found that I have definite preferences for what I'm doing depending on whether I'm working privately or in the open.

Below are a couple of collaged pages from a large book that I'm working in studio.  I started this book a couple of weeks ago when Kelly Kilmer was here, and decided that I wanted to use it to experiment with how many thin layers of many different media I could use to cover a page and still keep it entirely flat. 

Printing, tissue-thin layers of paper, and stencilling were obvious choices, as were multiple color washes.  The dots along the top to middle right of the page are done with flocking.  I wanted to test the effectiveness of different adhesives because when applied correctly, I think flocking is a great way to add interesting texture to a page without bulk.

   

This page also employs stencils as a means of experimenting with color washes and a variety of media.  To keep it cohesive, I mixed yellows from acrylic, watercolor, and water soluble wax pastels and experimented to see how each work over different surfaces, which in the page above include slick magazine paper, finely corrugated card, transparent plastic tape, masking tape, washi tape, tissue paper, and more.

Obviously, in studio there is more room and there are more materials at hand to work with, so it's no surprise that when I work privately, I work in a much larger format.  It's also not surprising that I don't choose to do bookbinding or screen printing at a Starbucks.  But what surprised me was the realization that in studio, I work on books, but I don't work inside books much, if at all, unless of course those books are very large like one with the pages featured above, or when I want to experiment with media that isn't portable or is not suited to a public environment.  In studio, I work on single sheets, large or small, boards, and on canvas.  But in the open I always work inside a reasonably sized book, whether it's a sketchbook or an art journal makes no difference, and if I do grab a sheet of paper while I'm out, I lay it inside my book to draw, collage, paint, or to do whatever with it.  Now that's a revelation!  Why do I do this?  

Well, privacy, obviously.  But why?  I'm not shy about my work.  Not at all.  I'm not afraid of criticism.  Not in the least.  I truly don't care if I make a masterpiece or the all-time great mistake in front of a crowd, and that's the truth.  Why?   I think it may have something to do with the overwhelming amount of support and praise, deserved or not, that I received about my artwork from the time I was very little.  From four years old, and perhaps even younger.  And it helped that this support came from adults.  Parents, but not just parents.  Professional artists who taught very young children at museum classes.  I believed them when they told me I was good, and even more importantly, I believed them when they told us we shouldn't pay attention to what other people might say about our work.  They taught us that most people didn't understand art, and while they were entitled to their opinions, they were not qualified to criticize it.  I still believe this.  And I think this infused me with immune cells.  I'm immune to feeling negative by other people's criticism of my work, because I just don't care what others think since I don't feel that anyone other than myself or a person with the classic definition of an "artist's eye", is sufficiently informed to comment on the work itself.  And whether or not someone likes what I do is subjective.  It is subject to their own pleasures and tastes, often driven by current commercial fads, and these are things that my feelings have been programmed not to respond to.  I was raised by experts to believe those things were not only unimportant, but that they were unhelpful.  So that isn't why I seek privacy under the covers of a book.  But I know that it is a privacy issue, because I feel the need to have a cover I can close to shelter what I'm doing.  Why?

I think it's to protect my work from busy-bodies.  They are plentiful, and I view their interruptions as the height of impolite behavior.  I love being out and amongst people, and I am energized and receptive to people who take a genuine interest.  I even invite their opinions, for better or for worse, if they are honestly inclined to give them.  But I hate curiosity-seekers because they are less about opinion, and more about taking up time.  They drain energy.  Many of them are patronizing, and I hate patronization most of all because it stems from a sense of superiority that dishonestly veils itself with the pretence of kindness, but in truth it is imperious and judgemental.  But it isn't the judgement that bothers me, it's the interruption without good reason, because I'm there to work, not seek approval.  This attitude is so opposed to the spirt of art and creativity, that I cover my work to keep it from the polluting air which that attitude brings with it.  And then I'll open it up again to the public, removing the cover to those who honestly like, or honestly hate whatever I'm doing, or those who are just minding their own business, not noticing what I'm doing at all.   In reality, most people do just go about their business, and it's artistically stimulating to be among them, even if I'm not specifically engaged in drawing their movements.  

So why am I sharing this with all of you?  Maybe because I think that it's as important to share what goes on inside the artsit once it's discovered, as it is to share the art itself.  What's inside is, after all, the heart and soul of what's on the paper.

 

A Handbound Book, Start To Finish

Here's a pic of my latest book:

My friend and art partner Rita loves Canson mixed-media paper and in watching her work with it, I've noticed how well it takes wet media and glue without buckling.  It's also smooth and bright white which I like for most drawing and illustration work.  It holds its fibers and keeps them out of my Rapidograph, so it's the paper I chose for the signatures in this book.  

I wanted the spine to harmonize seamlessly with my painted canvas covers.  I found patterned paper that worked well for this purpose, cut 1" wide strips and glued them to the spine of the outside folio of each signature.  More than just aesthetic, this adds bulk to the spine so the book will close flat even after media is added.  And because I glued the outside signature of each folio to the next outside signature as each was sewn, the decorative spines are present only on the outside of the book, not the inside, providing me with a book of pure white pages.

Cover:

I cut museum board to size and painted the canvas to cover the boards with multiple layers of thinned, transparent acrylics.  This was my first time using commercial modeling (or molding, depending on the brand you use) paste.  I tinted it first, then spackled it over a stencil of squares using a palette knife, lifted the stencil and left it to dry for a couple of days.  I liked the texture, so I left it as-is instead of sanding it to a smooth finish, then I adjusted the color.  

Spine:

A more detailed view of the spine shows the book with the back cover, and a closer view of the tapes.  I haven't decided whether or not I'll go back in with a little walnut ink to cover the exposed white edges of the holes for the stitching.

 

Tapes:

 The tapes began as end strips of upholstery fabric which  
were chosen for their color alone, as pictured (right).  But after prepping the strips for book tapes, I realized that the color was a bit off.  The left strip in the picture is the fabric before sewing. To correct this, I randomly and haphazardly machine stitched over the tape with a copper brown thread.  The middle tape in the picture illustrates the tapes at this stage.  To coordinate with the color of the covers and the spine, I added a powdery teal thread, and kept adding copper and teal threads alternatively until I felt that the fibers gave the fabric the color it needed to harmonize effectively.  The end product is the third tape on the right. 

Construction:

I constructed the book as part of a project in the Affair With Art group I belong to.  Nancy wrote a set of beautiful instructions for us and posted them to her blog HERE. Her instructions called for leather tapes and a closure, but I preferred to use what I had on hand.  I also tweaked the instructions a bit and bound the book per the specs for book #1 of Full Tilt Boogie, a perpetual online workshop, which I highly recommend, given by Mary Ann Moss.  The end product looks similar to the AAWA book, but differs just a bit in the way it was put together and the materials used. 

Inside Cover:

I really wanted to use the same paper I cut for the spine, as endpapers inside the book.  But with more than one signature, I had to come up with a way to attach a single sheet of paper to the front of the first signature and to the back of the last.  It worked because of the strips I attached to the spines of those signatures.  I simply glued these pages to the inside of the strip in such a way that the wrong side of the paper faced outward.  The signature then had one additional piece of paper, which after the book was sewn, was glued wrong-side-down to the inside cover as an endpaper.  When the book is opened, it looks like this:

I mentioned in an earlier post that I'll be binding 100 books in 2012 with the Artists Of The Round Table.  Making Handmade Books: 100+ Bindings, Structures & Forms by Alisa Golden, is the book we are using.   If you are interested in hand binding books, you'll want to add this to your library!

Eight and Nine

Yesterday I decided to remake a page.  Actually, I do this almost every day.  It isn't about whether or not I like what's on the page, it's about putting what I happen to want on the page today, and reconciling that with what's already there.  I could start with a blank page.  In fact, I do that all the time.  I've heard people say that blank pages can be intimidating.  I've also heard people say that pages with too much stuff on them can be confusing.  Since I'm neither intimidated nor confused, it really doesn't matter to me whether the page is blank, or full.  Either way, to me it's a just substrate.  

Here's the semi-finished product--semi-finished, because it hasn't been written upon yet. The pages are really not wonderful until they've been written on, so this one still has a long way to go.

 The page was remade primarily with paint, and a pine tree that I drew and carved into a stamp several years ago.  "Road-tested" was clipped from a magazine and used as-is.  "High Altitude" was constructed from white rub-on letters on top of a piece of black magazine paper cut to fit the top. The road and date were drawn onto the page with a Rapidograph and Inda ink.  

For remade pages, much of the the beauty is simply that what's under the finished product lends so much to the final outcome, both texturally, and in meaning, that the page wouldn't at all have been the same if what's underneath hadn't been there in the first place.

 Here's what was underneath the page above when I started:

If you look closely, and maybe squint, you can see some of the dots and part of that smilely face underneath the finshed page.  I didn't remove a thing.  Even the brown grid tape was laid on top of the pink tape that was already there, which added to the color of the tape layer on top.  

I use art journals and sketchbooks to stretch my creative muscles.  Sometimes that means sketching out plans.  Sometimes it means glueing-in a lot of things that please me.  Things which might contain elements I'll want to use in a finished piece later.  Sometimes it's all about color, and making notes.  

This particular book was made for Mary Ann Moss's Full Tilt Boogie workshop, and I've been working in it since mid-summer.  I'm using it to stretch my conscious creative decision making.  I say conscious, because so many of the decisions we make are habitual and shortcut the thought process.  This book is full of pages patched together alongside full blank pages, alongside pages with other elements added.  If you'd like to see what the book looked like just after it was created and before I started working on the pages, there's a flip-through you can see by clicking HERE and scrolling down to the bottom of the page.

Speaking of other elements, I drew some of those today to use later.  I've used quite a few frames on other pages of this book, and really like how they can be used to confine and define select words and design elements, so I drew a couple of funky frames with a wide-tipped Sharpie to have on hand for future pages, one on plain paper, and one on patterned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That takes care of Days 8 and 9 of Traci Bunker's 30 Days of Drawing.  A great incentive to keep pencil to paper, and to post about it.  It's not too late to join the challenge.

Visionary

This is one of my favorite ways to work in a journal.  Not because of any particular technique, combination of techniques, or content, but because of the process of discovery.  Sometimes it delays, and that takes patience, but it never disappoints.  

I make up the rules spontaneously as I go along, working in segments that I define and set time limits to.  It doesn't matter what comes first, second, third.  I just decide, for instance, that I'm going to use two things I haven't used in ages, and three things I use all the time.  I set the timer for 8 minutes and use them.  Then I move on.  Maybe this time I'll write for 5 minutes.  Maybe I'll decide to pick up 3 magazines and cut out things that catch my eye for 4 minutes, then take another 2 minutes to use them all.  It doesn't matter what, how long, or when.  It's about rules, but rules decided randomly, on the spot.  So in the greater context, it's not about rules, it's about me, and my choices of the moment.

 

Without fail, these are the sketchbook pieces that I identify with personally, as opposed to pieces that identify me.   I don't work to illustrate my identity or define myself.  When I'm working, especially in this type of process, I identify intimately with the work that evolves, as it evolves.  

In dreams, the symbols and  connections that are brought to mind by the dream cannot accurately be defined outside the context of life of the dreamer.  In this respect, these sketchbook spreads are like dreams.  Each of the symbols a person perceives, even archetypical symbols, can be defined only through the life and experiences of that individual.  So whatever you see here, it's for you.  If you make identifications in my work and draw parallels, it won't be me you're seeing, it will be yourself. 

Of course this is finished.  And it isn't finished.  Which means that it has said all it has to tell me today.  I think probably this is where it stays, at least for now.   But you never know about later.   

There are lots of great things that come out of working like this for me.  Two of the biggest benefits are that these types of pages almost unfailingly lead to stand alone work, outside of the sketchbook.  Not work that looks like the sketchbook, but work that the sketchbook evokes.  

The other huge benefit is what I see after I've finished, walked away for a time, and then come back fresh.  Things that looked like something at first, now seen in a new light, take on different meanings.  There are Aha! moments.  Things I saw before that had me saying to myself, "I think this may be...." and, "Hmmm, this looks a bit like....", etc., all of a sudden jump out and have me saying, "Ah!  So that's what that is!"  

If you haven't done this type of work before it may seem a bit odd, crazy, quasi-mystical, etc.  But it's none of those things.  It's just making dreams from the unconscious appear on paper, and going back to see what they might have to say, then using ideas from them in larger works.  That's simply all there is to it.

RAW

Last week was hectic.  That's an understatement!  And now that we're into a new week, this one promises more of the same.  The good news is that I've gotten so much done.  But most of it consists of things I can't show yet, so those pics will have to wait.  But the other good news is that I also did a lot that I can share.  

So catching up, I'll show you today what I've done so far in Quinn McDonald's Raw Art Journaling workshop:

If you think you've taken all the classes you'll ever need and more, and you're tired of the same old course material presented over and over, just packaged a little differently, then you're in for a great, big, fat (...maybe not Greek), TREAT!  Quinn's workshop is designed to appeal to and train your "inner journalist".  You will receive prompts and pointers for what to put on the page, but the biggest benefit, in my opinion, is that when you've finished the course, you'll no longer need to look outside yourself for ideas.  You'll be giving yourself the prompts and pointers.  More than inspiration, working through the exercises, you'll be programming yourself to be your own internal, continuing and renewing, inspiration generator.  You can go HERE to read about the workshop in Quinn's own words.  The workshop is free; all you need is a copy of the book, Raw Art Journaling, by Quinn McDonald.  

We started on Sunday and are in week one, but it isn't too late to join us.  

More Joy

I spent the day learning the ropes of two new websites and re-coding parts of my blog.  Hmmm.  Not too smart to do them all in the same day, since each are configured very differently and what I learned about one started bleeding into my knowledge of the others, and vice versa.  Better to keep the days I work on each of them separate from each other.  Also not good to try this with a migraine.  Just the backlit screen was enough to cause pain.  So I moved onto paper, and I kept it very simple.

Another alphabet page.  Working once again in my brown paper wrapper journal with minimal materials.  All papers from magazines and books with a dab of paint and some tape.  J.O. Y. style.  That's all.

Here's "D"

Cool

I'm back to my little handmade, hand-bound, brown paper wrapper journal.  It's one of my favorites.  You can see it HERE.  It, and two more like it, were made for Kelly Kilmer's J.O.Y. workshop, and I'm filling this one with alphabet pages for the Affair With Art group I belong to.  

I love J.O.Y.  It's completely different from other ways I journal and collage.  I limit each and every piece of collage, backgrounds included, to stuff pulled from magazines.  No painted backgrounds, although some tape and penwork and maybe a brush stroke or two on top is allowed.  My rules.  I want to see how far I can go using the thinnest materials possible.  No cardstock.   No commercial papers. 

Here's "C":

Pretty cool, if you ask me.

I Think I Can

I skipped a day.  Yesterday I didn't blog my work.  It would have been my 38th consecutive day of blogging, but I really needed a day off.  Which brings me to the conclusion that everyday, just for the sake of everyday, is really not good enough.  But a regular blogging habit is definitely worth it, so from yesterday forward, I've decided to take Sunday's off, curl up with a good book, and prepare myself gently and restfully for the beginning of a new week.  

The artwork is another matter.  Taking a day off from creating would be like, well, taking a day off from myself.  That's just crazy.  So I'll show you on Monday whatever it was that I did on Sunday.  Depending on your time zone it may work out a little bit differently, but it will work out.

Here's the latest two-page spread.  These pages were begun in October of 2010 and then put aside.  They needed more information, but they hadn't yet come into their time.  I finished the background and drew the lettering and the flowers last year.  After I added the bright pink, I let the whole thing sit and percolate all this time while I worked away on other things.

The old date is still there underneath the images.  The new date is on top, but you won't be able to see it since it's on the bottom 2 inches of the page, and that part didn't scan because the book is too large.  But the general idea is there.  And more may be added later.  Sometimes the pages in this book are never finished.  That's perfectly O.K.

Toxic Air

A couple of inches are missing from the bottom of these pages, and there's quite a bit of information there.  But you can still get a fairly good idea of what the spread looks like from this scan.  It's a fairly large book and the lighting just isn't good enough to photograph indoors.  I fit what I could onto the scanner.

This type of page satisfies me more than any other.  Many layers of seemingly unrelated images and words coming together out of nowhere, then resolved to the point where it all makes sense.   Well, maybe not sense to you, but perfect sense to me.  

The third or fourth layer consists of brown doodles.  Another example of raw art.  I mentioned Quinn McDonald's Raw Art Journaling workshop in yesterday's post, HERE.  Go take a look for more information, then join us!

Oldies But Goodies

Yesterday my friend Rosie Rowe posted a journal page to her blog that made me squeal with delight!  The colors, the pen work, and the subject matter all resonated with something deep in my soul.  You can see that piece by clicking HERE.  

I left a comment for Rosie, and told her that her piece reminded me of an art journal spread I created more than a year ago, but had never posted.  I told her I'd photograph and post it, and see what she thought.  

Rosie and I have a connection.  Like twins separated at birth.  What I'd like to know is this:  Do you see kindred souls when you look at my piece, then at hers, then back to mine again?  Is this something that can be seen from the outside?  Or is this just something that Rosie and I notice from time to time about ourselves?  I'm not asking you to compare and contrast.  I'm just wondering if you see the similar personalities.  The kindred spirits.  

Here's mine:

There are tons and tons of things I do that never make it to the blog.  This spread was one of those things.  The number one reason something gets left off my blog is "category".  Lots of artwork I do just doesn't fit the look, feel and format of this blog.  The number two reason is quantity.  There's just too much stuff, and it won't all fit.  And while I love looking at blogs that display picture after picture in a single post, it really isn't the way that I'm comfortable with making my posts.  At least not here.  

If we're going for the top three reasons things get left off my blog, the third reason often has to do with photographs.  Either the lighting was poor on the day I was ready to shoot a piece, or it didn't fit in the scanner, or maybe there just wasn't enough time left to shoot and upload.  

So what you finally see posted on my blog is most often an art journal page or a hand-bound book, and it's most likely what I worked on and finished on the day it was posted.  I just don't post many slow pieces, as in the ones that evolove over time, although those are almost always my favorites, and most often are stand alones, not pages in a book.  

That may be what happened with this piece.  I know that there are layers of crackle paint which had to dry overnight before the type of glitter I used could be added, and that took another overnight.  I also know that a year ago in May, I had several works in progress, and this was just one of them, so it was left behind until today.  And since I create what I create from what my heart and soul yearns to do, and not usually for challenges or themes that aren't my own, unless of course the challenges or themes are what I'm yearning to do, a lot of these pieces are so personal that it's hard for me to decide which ones someone else might want to see, and which should stay in the cabinet.

It's Day 33

I did quite a bit more pen work on yesterday's pages, but not enough to show, so you'll have to wait for an update on those.  Besides, with the heat, the dust, and the humidity, I felt restless all day, so I decided to do something else.

I have a stack of journals in process, each with it's own unique attitude, use, flair, understatement, drama, etc., so I browsed my stack and came up with an ex-library, a discard full of really richly mulit-layered backgrounds and coded journal entries that I started last summer.  I love this book.  It's 5-1/4" X 8-1/2" and only 1/2" thick.  A nice size to fit in a bag, but the backgrounds in this book make it really difficult to work in out of studio.  It is a nice size to take along for pen work.  

I removed half of the text block by alternating the signatures I pulled from it, so there's plenty of room for expansion.  Best of all, the cover is a lovely shade of  deep plum.  As soon as I have the boards cleaned and have covered the spine with a new strip of painted canvas, I'll photograph it.  It's very strong and can certainly take a beating, but still, unless my project is the book itself, I like to save the covers for last.  That way I don't worry about how aggressive I get with the pages.  Here's today's spread:

Rather than explain the coding -- there are several layers of it, too, I'll list some of what's on the pages.  I'll probably forget something, so if you spot something I've forgotten, please let me know in  a comment.  Here goes:

Black and white Xerox of hand and Mandala; parchment paper cut into interesting shapes; left over patterned paper after shapes were cut from it long ago; color copies of artwork I've done previously; layers and layers of acrylic paint; masking tape and gesso to fortify the substrate; flower Mandala shapes, hearts, dots, and lettering penned with India ink; old, dried up red letter rub-ons; brown ultra-fine tip Micron Pen; red Marvy Marker; tissue paper; glass rim stamped with black Staz-On; olive green washi tape; transparencies; ...and I think that's all...but I'm probably forgetting something...

And by the way, this is day 33 of my daily blogging habit...

In And Out Of Time

These are today's pages in progress.  They're part of the book where I house some of my more extreme pages.  The more symbolic pages that usually only I know the meanings of.  This is just a beginning. 

The pages in this book often evolve over a long period of time. There are several layers here already, but there's quite a bit more to come, and the final outcome may, or may not bear much resemblance to the pages as they are now.  

It's enough for today.  It's time to leave them alone for awhile.  I worked on them later into the day than I had planned, so they had to be photographed inside.  The lighting isn't very good.  Maybe I'll show you more as they progress.

 

Later tonight I'll be posting to ArtiphyTheSoul, so please stop by if you're interested.

Extending To Forty

I've decided to build upon a good habit of art and blogging while keeping up with Traci Bunkers last venture, and extend the challenge to keep blogging about artwork daily for ten more days.  As I said yesterday, it's my understanding that it takes 40 days to build a habit.  If that's true, then my habit of sharing some of what I do each day will be solidified within the next ten days.  

Today I spent a lot of my time painting papers.  I used pages from discarded book blocks as my substrate, and simple as they look, each of them took some thought, and some work.  And not because I don't know what I'm doing, but because I do!  

 

 

A really good friend of mind, one of my best childhood friends, just sold a painting that belonged to her aunt for $130,000+.  A good amount of money, but not a lot for an internationally recognized artist.  

She and I both recognized the value of this piece, partly on the reputation of the artist, but mostly on the content.  It was one big blank canvas with a small phrase in reverse, pink, block letters in a very small section of the center of the canvas.  

Unfortunately, a lot of people would have said something like, "What?  My 4 year old could have done something like that!"  And believe me, we hear this stuff all the time.  But the truth is, that no, your 4 year old didn't think of it,  wouldn't have thought of it, couldn't have done it if she had, and neither could you, nor did you.  And that's the truth.  And the buyer couldn't have gotten a more appropriate piece for the space the painting now inhabits.  A Monet at any price wouldn't look as good in this space.  

More, much more, education needs to take place in modern art.  People have no idea what it is, why it's valuable, and what the difference is between the good stuff and the bad.  In all actuality, it is as much a science as it is an art, because unlike even photorealism, good modern art fits a very stringent set of critera, within a seemingly broad framework.   It's one of those things that until you get it, you just don't get it, but when you do, the aha moment is more of an AHA, and it's permanent!

You don't have to like it, but you really should understand it, or at least learn what the fuss is about, especially if you think it's not your taste.  At least that way, when you see something you don't understand you'll say something a bit more intelligent than, "My 4 year old could have done that...."

Now as far as my pages are concerned, do I think your 4 year old could have done these?  Perhaps not, but possibly your 6 year old....  and your 8 year old could probably give me a lesson or two, or three...  your ten year old would line the birdcage with them, etc, etc....