The Sketchbook Project 2015

If Not, Winter…This is a one of a kind sketchbook. 

Winter is a joy and a dread—an expected guest that arrives with a smattering of soggy, white baggage as early as Halloween. It’s a howling wind and skies bruised gray, darkness descends with the snowfall—The Winter Solstice becomes blanketed in white unless a warming trend foils expectations—it seems a sickness when there is no snow for Christmas. January, we are wary of the forecasted predictions, lately it is as if someone has flipped the switch to COLD so that by February, we are weary of the bitter Arctic breath. March, for goodness sakes, enough already with the roaring lion! It’s the relentless wind that is maddening. We consider ourselves lucky if there is anything lamb-like about it by the end. Winter grudgingly departs, leaving behind its “dirty laundry”, the ice crusts of soggy snowbanks, flattened debris, and mud. Brave little crocuses are, more often than not, smashed to a pulp by more than “a dusting” of snow. In the past, snowstorms have come as late as Mother’s Day. It is agreed that by Memorial Day, it’s safe to plant the garden. 

On full moon nights...the snow is blue and sparkly...

Winter started in November...

and didn't let up. December.

Frost on the windows...Winter Solstice.

Peace on earth. Beware the Pogonip.

Lake Effect. It's only January

The snow squeaks when it's below zero...February.

Damn it's COLD. Is it ever going to end?

We are FrOzen. Bitter COLD...

A Nor'easter. There were night I hoped...

for cloud cover to keep us warm...seeing the stars at night made me shiver

(snowstorm, icy moon)

As a rule, March comes in like a LION...

The first day of Spring...

never mind the lamb, it's taking leave like a stubborn ram.

Winter is a shared complaint—with the first snowfall, driving is a challenge until we get our winter driving “legs” and try to have more patience while on the road. I swear, if we didn’t have the weather to talk about, we’d have nothing to say to each other after the holidays. It’s an ice breaker—we warm toward one another in our commiseration, melting the cabin fever frost and grumpy hibernation hangover... (On March 29th when I bound the book, there were places in my yard that still had 3 feet of snow, today there's still a foot or more here and there, and a fresh inch arrived overnight...it ain't over yet. Not that I'm complaining.)

The cover, front and back

The paintings are composed with acrylic wash on rice paper mounted on the original 100% Scoutbook pages for the Sketchbook Project 2015. Text on white bond paper is adhered with archival paste or ATG tape, and handbound with cotton book binding thread. It may look extremely delicate, but it really isn't...it should hold up nicely.

It was so hard to part with this little sketchbook, they all are...this is my fourth contribution to the Sketchbook Project.

While making it, I wondered how many will catch the "Rudolph" reference in the word FrOzen...and laugh.(My Fred and our son both did, but that's just us, it's what we look for in the beginning of the movie.)

I just noticed this morning that I misspelled "Arctic" in the text on the introduction...oh, well! I can only hope the reader's brain will fill in the missing 'c' (if they take the time to read it)...and I hope they are forgiving if they do find it...

Anyway, I loved making it, and I hope that it will be enjoyed by many who visit the Mobile Library during the 2015 tour, and then later at the Brooklyn Art Library in years to come!

Tell All...

Follow Your Bliss...

To tell all—let me tell you a story—

Evening Blue and Gold, 2010

I was that little kid in school who failed to follow the directions...

Here I am, me and my messy hair, Kindergarten picture, Lyons Elementary School, Lyons, NY, 1967

All the other children made pictures of the Easter Bunny while I went my own way and made the Easter Brontosaurus—you better believe I caught hell for that because I didn’t follow the directions. The other kids giggled and said I was weird. I was miserable—but I loved my drawing anyway. My mother made a pillow and embroidered my picture on it. She "got it". I wanted to draw what I wanted to draw, and that day, I wasn’t interested in drawing bunnies.

Me at the Delavan Art Gallery, Syracuse NY, 2006 (The hair is still wicked.)

The Easter Bronto was just the beginning. I went to art school—Cazenovia College for the first two years. I spent this time getting my feet wet learning how to use the tools and the vast opportunities from Studio Art, Illustration, Design—I learned a lot and knew what I wanted to do—I wanted to paint in the studio, making paintings from inside because there was stuff in there that only I could see, like ghosts or something, I didn't know for sure. I struggled with the restrictive parameters of school projects—I wasn’t into the deadline inspired commercial art part, tho’ I was totally in awe of the technical skills of my classmates—they were so polished compared to my higgledy-piggledy attempts that never looked quite right. Moving on, I was still exploring my ideas—

Then I went on to being an upperclassman in Studio Art at Syracuse University—and while there, I had one professor declare that painting was dead (as in the traditional way of fine art making.) So I spent two years flailing paint around anyway in spite of this one person who had a very high opinion of himself, and indicated to me that “If you want to make pretty pictures, you should major in Visual Communications.” Which, as you know, I had already chosen not to pursue. I stuck it out—it was almost my creative undoing, but looking back on that willful frustrated me—if I knew then what I know now, would I have been as frustrated? Probably. I was in a mood to “get on with it.” I knew what I wanted to do, but didn’t know how and needed the time to work it out on my own without the non-constructive commentary. I wasn't looking for praise—although I tried to please—I really didn’t like taking direction. Like I was an old soul that had come back and had no patience going through all of this again. I was very frustrated, extremely disappointed and disillusioned, but I found rare moments of joy in my studio—often painting things out of spite. I was very raw.

I’m still that little kid with the messy hair that my mom could never tame, the kid who wanted to draw the Easter Bronto rather than the Easter Bunny (neither one exists so what difference does it make who’s hiding colored eggs and passing out baskets of candy!)

Joy, 2006, pencil drawing

The Heart of Everything That Is..., 2007, pencil drawing

The Fifth, 2008, mixed media

And so now many years later, I’m doing the things that I wanted to do then, but didn’t know how—or was afraid to because of someone else's disapproval was always likely to be involved.

Making Progress, 2010

 I said to myself, I have things in my head that are not like what anyone has taught me—shapes and ideas so near to me—so natural to my way of being and thinking that it hasn't occurred to me to put them down. I decided to start anew, to strip away what I had been taught. — Georgia O'Keeffe

Full Moon, 2010

There is more than blue going on in that sky..., 2010

I met a young lady at a friend’s opening a couple of weeks ago. She was very interesting, a dichotomy of life's textures, hard and fragile—dusky green-blond hair, lots of facial hardware, pretty layers of clothes, soft pinks, grays, greens, and lace; the safety pin through the skin on her hand was a little distressing to me as it looked quite angry and fresh. The lack of eye contact spelled out a deep pain that I cannot imagine. A friend of mine had taken her under her wing (she has a habit of taking in stray teens who need guidance) she was buying art supplies for her (a sketchbook, pencils, and markers were part of the collection of things she had in her bag.)  While we were chatting, I showed this young lady my recent contribution to the Sketchbook Project—which I felt certain that she needed to see it. She loved it and was a little afraid of it, exclaiming “So delicate!” Then we talked a little more, and I asked what she was going to put into her sketchbook. She didn’t really know. “If I draw what I really think, I’d get into trouble for it.” I totally felt that. So I told her not to listen to that—just do it. “It’s yours, accept it.” I can only hope my brief contact with her made her day, I know it made my night just talking to her because I knew she needed to have that extra positive influence (it felt so good to see the spark in her.)

A River of Falling Stars, 2012

Follow your bliss—

 it’s okay because it’s what you’re meant to do.

Me at Szozda Gallery, 2012

Playing Favorites

I'm featured in The Pulse as part of the "Playing Favorites" series. Seth Apter of the Altered Page started a project way back in June 2011 asking artists to submit answers to questions, today's featured question is:  “share a picture of a favorite piece of art that you have created and explain its meaning to you.”  For my submission, the title seems to sum it up perfectly..."I want more out of life..." which for me means the world...I feel that it is necessary for me to be doing something worthwhile, creatively, my hands are rarely idle and my mind is difficult to turn off...this drawing became one of those special ones for me, I could never part with it...every time I look at it, it surprises me.

I Want More Out of Life..., 2008

There are many drawings that I love...so it was hard to chose from them for Seth's question...
My drawings are created through a stream of consciousness activity starting with random marks on the paper and from there I go with the flow and follow now formal plan or idea...they are intuitive and natural happenings. I use a variety of pencils, hardness and softness...on occasion I will "cheat" and use a ruler if a straight line is required...and goodness knows, I can't draw a straight line to save my life...or I'll use the round cardboard inner ring of a roll of packing tape to make a circle should I think one is needed, but most of my line work comes into being freehand...

A little bit softer now...2005

Lumina #1, 2006

Lumina #2, 2007

 Like children, each one is different, but they are certainly "family"...

Samhain, 2009

Pensive Storm, 2012

Winter Nights, 2011

 Music very often gives direction to my mark making...Beethoven has been a long time influence...but I have very eclectic taste...classical, alternative rock, folk music, blue grass, electronica...old stuff, new stuff...

Joy, 2006

The heart of everything that is..., 2007

For cello, 2007

June Wind, 2007

 Very often the seasonal shifts and weather events inspire the flow, summer storms, murky spring nights after a heavy rain...

Spring Night Haze, 2006

 Some of these feel like paintings...

Evening Song, 2006

Rite of Spring, 2006

Twister, 2007

I probably have hundreds of these by now, I very often work on more than one at the same time, so there are various sketchbooks that I've got lying about with work in progress in various stages of unfinished...some are better than others, but what is important to me is the act of making them...they're a meditation... a "reset button" for me to get away from color for a little while and to make something that requires no planning. I've always loved working in pencil...it's a beautiful, versatile medium, and perfect to learn mark making and experimentation...and learning about  control...learning about freedom.

Altered Environments

A River of Falling Stars, 10/7/2012, acrylic and monotype on Arches watercolor paper, 30 x 22

Seriously, I finished painting this one yesterday afternoon. As soon as the paint dried I had to frame it...this painting was one of those that I had started once upon a time, and then gave up on it, tucking it away thinking one day maybe...well, two weeks ago when I was invited to be in a new exhibition as Szozda I pulled it out and slathered it with my favorite near black blue, Payne's gray...the only thing left of the original painting is the moon. Everything else evolved since then...building layers on layers on layers...OMG it's sooooooo gorgeous, and floated in a frame it's stunning!

We delivered the paintings and drawings to the Szozda Gallery today, and saw the preliminary layout...it's always a different experience to see the work in the gallery than at home...

The postcard!

I came down with a cold on Thursday morning, and have finally shook off the worst of it, naturally, in time to go back to work, but of course, I had to push through to get the paintings wired and the drawings framed...in between napping and taking hot baths to feel better. I managed to finish three new paintings to include with the work in progress paintings that I already had finished before...

Where water meets sky...#2, 10/6/2012, acrylic wash, monotype, rice paper on canvas, 24 x 24 inches

Ripple, 10/7/2012, acrylic wash, monotype, rice paper on canvas, 20 x 20 inches

This was the very last painting of the day...yes, this one is named after the Grateful Dead song Ripple...you know, it's whatever is going through my head at the time...it's been a productive and fun time...I always say, if I didn't love what I do, I wouldn't be doing it. I love what I do and I feel very fortunate...

Looking forward to seeing the show up on the walls and looking forward to the reception on Friday night!