ArtiphyTheHeart

Warming Up

Writers often use prompts and time limits to warm-up or unblock.  I do much the same thing when I draw.  I give myself a time limit.  Usually 30 minutes.  Then I pick a short story that I have already read, re-read a page or two, and illustrate what I've read.  Roughly.  Very roughly.  I like to use panels, and I like to make the narrative part of each panel.  

I rarely illustrate an entire story, but I do use a separate panel for each individual thought without skipping around or editing the text, even if I've chosen only a page or two.

The time limit keeps the sketches as ideas as opposed to artwork.  Depicting ideas pictorially without the constraints of correct technique or finishing touches keeps the work clean and abstract.  Mistakes are not considered mistakes.  They are part of the exercise and stay put (note the two m's in Hemingway).

It's easier to move on to more sophisticated work when you begin with something clean and clear that helps you see instantly what to keep, what to add or replace, and what to throw away.  

It's like warming up at the piano before a concert.  My daughter plays, and she often warms up with the Goldberg Variations (see video below), playing them excruciatingly slowly at first, no matter how many times she has played them before.  For me, this is similar to a piano warm-up, except that I keep it simple and quick by limiting my time and choices.  

This type of illustration is sometimes later finished, then published as artwork.  Take a look at The Graphic Canon, Vol. 2: From "Kubla Khan" to the Bronte Sisters to The Picture of Dorian Gray. If you click the link, you can view a sample of the book and perhaps have a clearer picture of what I'm talking about.

 

One Page At A Time, For Now

This is page two in my Swatches journal.  None of the pages in this tiny book are the same size or shape.  That means that parts of  both previous pages and next pages, peek through from behind the smaller pages.  This creates a puzzle for photographing them as individual pages because in the book, each page becomes part of the artwork of the greater whole.  While they are pages of journaled mixed-media collage in their own right, as a book, they are not separate from one another, but parts of many different pieces.

I decided to scan each page solo, without the surroundings you'd see if you were flipping through the book.  Maybe later when the book is complete or when lots of pages have been completed, I'll do a quick flip-through video and post it so you can see each page in its natural habitat.  But for now, one page at a time.  

A Little More Time, And Some Advice For Your Mojo

Here's MYPL page 28 after a little more work.  To compare, you can see the start of this page by clicking HERE.

In the last few posts, I've talked about working in ten minute segments, which was a challenge Kelly Kilmer posted HERE.  But sometimes, even when you have a couple of hours, for whatever reason, things just don't click.  That's when you have to relax and make up your mind to just be happy doing what you can.  

A couple of urgent matters set me almost two hours behind schedule on Thursday, which for me is a real mojo drain.  When I was finally able to get to it, it took all I had just to decide what would come next on this page.  One thing I was sure I wanted to do was construct a bridge to unify the top stenciled portion of the page with the image of the planetary surface on the bottom.  I let my brain rest with that thought while I chose a neutral colored architectural element that would compliment the scrolling lines of the stencil, and freehand cut another piece to use on the right side for balance.  After that, it was fairly easy for my mind to conjure a border design that would echo parts of the top element and repeat it across the page.  

I penned the negative lettering of the page's theme, and decided to put the date at the top.  Just as I was making the date lines thicker, I was interrupted with news of three--yes three--serious traffic accidents which were backing up traffic with lengthy projected delays, and all of them on the route I would be taking to where I needed to be next.  I had to leave immediately to take another, longer route which would get me where I needed to be.   So the pen stopped moving and things were packed up and put away so I could head out the door.  

Two hours was less than half the time scheduled for artwork on Thursdays.  And usually, after two hours of work I have much more to show for it.  But the time I spent was productive.  In those two hours, decisions were made, problems were solved, and the general direction of the page began to emerge.  

This was the opposite of accomplishing much in ten minutes.  It was accomplishing less than usual in two hours.  But the level of satisfaction and accomplishment were equal.  As I said in this post HERE: 

Feeling accomplished cannot be measured by time or weight.  It's only measure is satisfaction.

With all the curves thrown that I had to catch and pitch back throughout the day, it was just as satisfying as if I'd finished a hundred pages.  So I'll add "number" to my sentence above.  Here's my revised declaration:

Feeling accomplished cannot be measured by time, weight, or number.  It's only measure is satisfaction.  

And here's what I have to say about my day, especially the early hours which kicked my muse out the door and exploded my mojo to smithereens:  

Even when your muse has abandoned you and your mojo is shattered beyond repair; Even when after too much time looking and too much time thinking, you still don't know what to do, there's one answer to heals all artistic wounds.  Touch your materials.  Just that.  Get them onto the table, pick them up, and turn them around.  Draw anything.  Glue anything.  Things can always be glued on top.  Or paint anything.Things can always painted over.  Write anything.  Things can always be glued, painted or written over.  Just touch the things you work with.  Then use them with no outcome in mind.  Your muse will immediately get jealous that you're working without her.  Your mojo will pull itself together instantly because it can't stand to be left out of a creative adventure.  Especially one that starts out without any particular destination in mind.  

Just do it.  It's magic!

 

A Few More Ten Minute Bursts

A few days ago, Kelly Kilmer challenged her blog readers to take just ten minutes and see what could be done in that time with an art journal page.  I took the challenge and talked about it HERE.  

This is page 27 for MYPL and it was not created in ten minutes.  But bursts of it were.  I selected colors and laid down foundational pieces of collage in ten minutes.  In several ten minute segments, I completed the border and the lettering.  I both warmed and cooled select areas of the page by applying layers of orange and green ink over the top of the finished page with heavier applications around the border, and I completed this in ten minutes.  

Some aspects of a page need to be composed in one sitting.  Otherwise the original energy is lost when you leave the piece, and the new energy you bring to the page when you return will be different.  Because of this the page can lose it's continuity.  

But detail work like lettering or penning a border can be done in intervals.  One of the good things about doing parts of a page in intervals is that you come back to the page with a new set of eyes.  You see things that you didn't see before when you were immersed in it.  You can make new decisions to add or subtract, to paint in or paint out, or to leave something exactly as it is.  Or to restore something to what it was before a change was made.  These things are hard to see when you've been with the page steadily for a lengthy period of time.

Kelly's idea was that by working in ten minute intervals, you can complete something that you would never begin if you knew it would take you two or three hours at one sitting.   And that's true.  But there are other benefits to ten minute bursts of creativie activity, too.  Knowing you can do anything for just ten minutes ensures that you will exercise your creative muscles at least once a day, and satisfy your creative cravings in the process.  Additionally, by working for ten minutes, leaving, and coming back to your page later, you see what you're creating in a different light and can approach it with a renewed freshness.

As Promised...

Yesterday I promised to post a page from one of my sketchbooks, so here you are.  One of my watercolor heart milagros.  I love milagros and I have sketchbooks filled with them.   Especially heart milagros.  I keep lots of dedicated sketchbooks, and I have a special sketchbook filled only with milagros del corazon.    

I browse all sorts of places looking for special milagros.  When I find one that speaks to me personally, I usually make a quick sketch with color notes then finish it in studio.   Sometimes I snap a pic--if photographs are allowed.  Especially if I'm in a hurry or if there are lots of them I like.  Then I work from the pics when I'm with my materials.  

I end up with pages and pages of resolved sketches of single items.  Charms.  Little miracles.  A pleasant exercise without the bother of backgrounds or composition. 

More Simple Pleasures

From time to time I post about my simple pleasures.  This not-so-simple journal page filled with layers of my stenciled prints contains a list of some of my favorite simple pleasures.  

Tea always heads the list, and the page with it's tie-dye colors reminds me of an old hippie coffee house where good whole leaf teas are stored in air-tight containers and brewed fresh, pot by pot and cup by cup.

Next on the list is birdsong.  I live where the birds spend their winters.  There's nothing more pleasant than waking up in a warm, quiet room with a window cracked open for fresh air, and the first sounds of the day coming from a choir of birds.

Two more of my favorite simple pleasures are tide pools, and just breathing deeply.

This is MYPL page 25.  I've incorporated many stenciled prints using Liquitex acrylic spray paint for Stencilry.  The tea photo is a print of the photograph in yesterday's post which you can see by clicking HERE.

The Truth About Can't

I was blessed to grow up with parents who eschewed limiting ideas and behaviours.  

I remember coming home from kindergarten and complaining to my father that Kathy D. told me I couldn't do something on the playground.  "You can't do that," she said.  

And my father answered very simply and quietly, "That's ignorance.  When someone says you can't do something, they're just showing what they don't know.  There is no can't".  

So I told my father, "Tomorrow I'm going to go back and tell her that you said I can." 

And he answered, "No.  That won't do.  It's about ignorance, so she won't understand.  She'll argue, and that's no good.  Let it always be enough that you know you can.  Just go about your business and ignore the can'ts.  Life is full of them.  You need to let them be and just keep going.  If you pay attention to the cant's, you won't see the cans."

It wasn't about defying authority.  I knew the difference between can't and shouldn't, or may not.  It was about CAN.  And being told that I should quietly go about knowing that I can, made all the difference.  It gave me the motivation to learn new, difficult things and the patience to wait for things.  Why rush just to give up?  Especially when you know that you CAN.  So what if it isn't today?  You CAN.  

I learned a third exercise that many people don't think to do.  People think to stretch their bodies, and people think to stretch their intellect.  But most people don't think to stretch their capabilities.  Even if they don't know it, they're stuck with the question, "Can I?  Will I be able to?  Until you answer that question with a yes, you're a member of the billions club.  You're part of the billions of people that don't try until they're sure that they can.  They don't know if they can, and they're afraid to try until they know.

I learned the answer to that question in kindergarten, but that doesn't make me special.  Anyone can learn it anytime they want to.

(This pic above is page 24 from MYPL.  The stencil is from yesterday's post, HERE)

Cutting Edges

One of the things I quickly discovered while cutting this stencil/mask: When cutting your own stencils by hand with an Xacto knife, the edges are really important.  You have to pay careful attention to the intersection of horizontal and vertical cuts.  It isn't enough for them to just meet each other because you risk frayed corners if the edges don't intersect.

Cutting text is good practice.  It helps prepare you for the combined straight and curved lines in artwork.  I could have used purchased stencils, but I wanted the practice.  And I like that I can control the look when I do it myself. In an Art for Elementary School class I took in college, we were told to emphasize to students how much their drawing would improve if they practiced improving printing, script, and penmanship in general.  I think this extends to cutting letters with an Xacto.  If you practice cutting letters, your stencil cutting skills in general will improve by leaps and bounds.

Do you recognize this page?  I started it a while back and posted about it HERE.

The first decision I made when designing the stencil for this page was where I wanted to put it.  This art journal very conveniently has 8-1/2" X 11" pages.  That means that if I cut the area which will receive the paint from a separate piece of printer paper and I position the cuts carefully, the stencil I cut will also successfully mask out the rest of the page.  Once I decided where I wanted the letters, I  drew the letters in a type style that I thought would look good on the page.  Cutting out the letters proved to be quite easy.  

Here are some notes I took to ensure the success of future projects:

• Make sure cuts intersect at corners
• On some curves it's easier to turn the paper than the knife
• Fresh, new blades.  Always.
• Clean, unblemished cutting mat
• No day dreaming!  This is not the time to lapse into the zone!
• Remember, you're pulling the knife, not pushing it.  All cuts are on the pull.

This is page 23 for Marvel: Your Precious Life, an online art journal workshop offered by Kelly Kilmer.  The stenciling exercise is for Stencilry, an online workshop for designing, cutting, and using  stencils.  It's offered by Mary Ann Moss.

I used Liquitex low odor acrylic spray paint in medium magenta for this stencil.  The layer of acrylic spray on top of the printer paper reinforces and strengthens it with a light coating of acrylic polymer.  You end up with the best of both worlds:  A very easy to cut sheet of paper which becomes more durable after it has been sprayed.  

I think the top pic of the stencil cut from the paper is actually pretty cool looking.  I'm sure it will find it's way into another journal page soon.

Drawing On Stickies

Why?  Because some days all you have at your disposal are a pencil, a piece of notebook paper, and a post-it-note.  And you have to do something creative.  And sometimes you're in too big of a hurry to bother wiping off the eraser bits before you scan and post.  But that's OK.  

Looking Forward To Everything, Always

I'm so excited to begin each and every day.  I look forward to absolutely everything.  Life wasn't always like this.  There were days upon days that I anticipated with boredom and exhaustion.  What changed?

Something tiny.  A very tiny thought popped into my head one morning while I was making breakfast.  I thought that maybe I would enjoy cooking, eating, and after breakfast clean-up quite a bit more if I did something creative with it.  So I did.  

That morning I rummaged through the fridge and came up with a small handful of veggies that I washed, chopped and added to a dab of melted butter in a skillet before scrambling my eggs.  And a pinch or two of spice.  Maybe four extra minutes of my time made all the difference, and I really enjoyed breakfast.  

During clean-up, I kept a notepad and pencil handy.  I thought about what I might make tomorrow and I wrote it down.  I even thought about busy mornings on the fly when a piece of toast and Nutella was all I'd have time for.  I resolved that on those mornings, I'd use fine china for my tea and toast.  Or spread a cloth and have a floor picnic.

Those thoughts took me through the day and here and there I began to write down things that would easily add pleasure to other routines.  I thought about adding a flower--just one--to my table every day.  And I thought about places to get flowers and about crocheting doilies and all sorts of other things, too.  And I wrote them in my notebook.  Some weren't practical, but it was fun thinking them up and writing them down.

I thought about expanding this.  Seeing every single piece of monotony in my day in a different light.  And I thought about driving, and how I hated it.  So I resolved to notice one new thing on each and every drive and to remember to write it in my notebook.  Once I noticed a shirt on a man standing at a corner.  Another time I noticed that the telephone wire running along the outside of a building I always passed was painted blue.  Just tiny things.  But life started becoming more exciting.  I began to look forward to seeing.  And I fell in love with thinking up ways to add something playful to every routine.

Some other tiny things that made a big difference were how I turned book reading and film watching--things I've always savored--into an end of the day ritual, and how I purposely skip some days and just keep them open.  How I randomly pick a day each week to sip wine or tea in bed while listening to music.  How I invite my family to join me, or ask them let me spend my time privately, and what a huge difference voicing an invitation or a desire to be left alone can make, and how it gives a choice to others.

And then, all of a sudden one day I realized that I looked forward to everything.  All of it.  And the most beautiful thing happened along the way--I have very a hard time now remembering how it felt to be bored.

The First Rule...

...in everything is knowing what to keep and what to throw away.  That includes knowing what to say "yes" to and what to say "no" to.  And what to focus on when you read and which words are just there to hold the others together.  And what to eat all of and what to leave on your plate.  And who to hold hands with and who to run away from.  

They all--everything, that is--begin with an idea, and that idea can be distilled into a "this or that" format.  Once it's this or that, the wisdom is in knowing which to keep and which to throw away.  

A hint:  Never, ever, throw away your freedom to decide.  Always keep that, no matter the cost.

MYPL page 21.

How Would It Feel To Be 103?

A very different kind of page for me (MYPL p.18), but I was determined to stretch my wings.  

It began with the upside down hat, which of course needed something pulled from it.  Owls.  Wiser than rabbits.  Maybe just one owl.  And typed text.  Typed on tissue.  What to do to offset the sterility?  Funky block letters.  As imperfect as I can make them without crossing into the "messy as crap" zone.  In pencil.  God how I've missed pencils!  Graphite is good.  Scribbled in with markers.

If you have an old typewriter at your disposal, I urge you to use it!  I have my mother's old Royal.  It's cast iron and heavier than the table it sits on.  I moved it to my work table a couple of years ago so that I'd use it.  Finally!  I can't believe it took me this long.

I didn't realize the date until I went to schedule this post, so I changed the title.  Happy birthday, Daddy! 

Without Limits

I'm working my way back and forth between various journals, taking a short break from the Connections journal that I've been showing in blog posts the past few days.  

This is page 17 in Marvel: Your Precious Life.  It has to do with some of my childhood aspirations for adulthood, and nothing at all to do with fashion models.  More than anything, I aspired to a life without limitations.  Not without reasonable boundaries.  There is a difference.  I was taught from an early age to beware of people who say "can't," and to positively reject those who dare to say, "you can't".  

Page 3

This third page in my Connections journal is my absolute favorite so far.  Like the others, it's unfinished.  Just the bare bones of collage to start the process, along with a bit of photo tinting.  

I'm too tired for words tonight, so I'll leave you with this and share more later.  To see other pages in this book, you can click HERE, HERE and HERE.

Alchemy

This is page one in my Connections journal, but only the barest of beginnings of a page.  If you're interested, you can read a little more about the book and see the inside cover HERE.  

I may or may not show this page again when it's been a little further down the line, but I wanted to show it at this stage to point out how easy it is to turn one thing into something completely different just by making tiny changes here and there.

For instance, the center photo was black and white and glossy.  I removed the gloss and gave it an uneven sepia tint with walnut ink.  Darker here, lighter there.  

The paper top left was a light cream color.  What now looks like a lighter design was quite a bit darker than the background.  Brushing on walnut ink unevenly, stained and darkened everything but the design which resisted the ink, so now the design appears lighter.  Nothing more than that.  

The lettering was fun.  I did that by myself.  But the flowers--bottom left--were stamped with plain, black ink.  Adding a bit of the blue from the letters at the top turned the flowers into something completely new altogether.  

Alchemy!

Now the fun will be in adding more and more layers, making it uniquely personal, tying it all together, and turning it into something more than a composed grid.  

Abracadabra!