Stars of Wonder

A standout holiday memory comes from 1991 when I discovered author/illustrator Patricia Polacco's book Uncle Vova's Tree. It tells the story of grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents, and children who gather at the family's Michigan farmhouse to celebrate Christmas in the Russian tradition that is their heritage. Part of the story involves the children's making colorful paper stars with their Uncle Vova.

I bought the book immediately. I wanted us to make Uncle Vova stars for our tree! I rounded up bright color markers, streamers, scissors, glue, and bamboo kabob sticks, set up an impromptu workshop space, and my kids and I totally immersed ourselves. It was one of those little press-pause pockets of stillness that can make all the rush and commercialism and curmudgeonly feelings that often overtake the holiday fall away, leaving only light and joy in their place.

The best!



I made new vova stars this year, in keeping with my longstanding tradition of creating an edition of handmade ornaments each year. The fun this time came from painting them. I started somewhat inauspiciously in the quiet of a day in February, covering a sheet of paper intuitively. Continued more enjoyably on a soon-to-follow snow day. The next day, really got a groove going. Kept my mojo in gear. Probably got a little too smug, because soon thereafter all hell broke loose!

But what fun I had tracing star shapes on the back of my two pages of painting, cutting out those stars, and then playing with the volunteer mini-compositions that emerged on the opposite side!

Vova stars, group photo

Vova star, individual portrait

Vova star, individual portrait

Vova star, individual portrait

Vova star, individual portrait

Vova star, individual portrait

Happy Birth Day

Oh my gosh, can I tell you how happy I am when I play with paint and all the other magical stuff in my studio?

So happy!

Every day is the birth day—the happy birth day—of something new that never existed before.

Wasn't there …  is there!

Magic.

Happy magic.

I especially enjoyed creating this card for the happy birthday of my friend Ruth.

Can you feel the celebration here for Ruth's spark, sparkle, integrity, energy, generosity, and vibrancy?

There Aren't Any Grown-Ups—Not One, in the Whole Wide World 3x3.75"; acrylic, ink, pencil, and pastels on paper, mounted on card stock abstract 2017 [gift]

12/24", Day 6

I'm off to new turf tomorrow, vacationing in a little unincorporated Canadian village on a harbor off the Bay of Fundy.

12/24" #1 and #2 will be staying behind, getting a vacation from me! They are quite pleased to know they are old enough to take care of themselves, no babysitter needed.

I'll be bringing a limited collection of art supplies with me but, as with my painting life in general, I have little to no idea what will unfold in any given moment. I may paint, I may not. I may post, I may not.

Here are the adolescents, with all their current swagger and wild sense of immortality:

12/24" #2 and #1, work in progress

12/24", #2 and #1, work in progress

A Third Something

I am one of five sisters, the oldest.

Marj is one of the same five sisters, the youngest.

We are bookends, each holding a place in a sister lineup that spans twelve years.

Such a sweet time I've had painting up some colors and lines and scribbles and joy to make a card to celebrate my baby sister.

Happy birthday, Marj!

Maybe I Am Just a Kid, Only Older

3x4"; acrylic, ink, and collage on drawing paper, mounted on card stock

abstract

2017

[gift]

A Second Something

The second something from Monday's start, another birthday card:

Maybe Adulthood Is a Myth
3x4"; acrylic, ink, and collage on drawing paper, mounted on card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Birthday Card

Birthday card from yesterday's start:

this is the sun's birthday
3x4"; acrylic, ink, and collage on drawing paper, mounted on card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Setting Up Just Now

Painting offers up entrée to snippets of freedom. Eckhart Tolle states, The only place where you can or need to be free is this moment. Not the rest of your life. Just now. I experience so many of those moments, so much of now, in my studio.

Today, a piece of 9x12" drawing paper, paints, a brush or two, collage papers, some pens, and an acrylic skin were the portal.

Eventually, I took that 9x12 to my paper trimmer. Now I have a start for a birthday card and eight other somethings.

Before letting the blade fall:

9x12" mixed media start

Unexpected Moments

One of the nice things
about marrying the right [person] …
is that you keep
falling in love
all over again
at the most unexpected moments.

—Gail Godwin, Evensong

Congratulations on your marriage, A&A—may you enjoy a lifetime of unexpected moments of falling in love all over again!

wedding card

Unexpected Moments
3x4"; acrylic, ink, pencil, and wax pastels on drawing paper, mounted on card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Celebrating Life and Offering Condolences

I took one piece of yesterday's playboard and developed it, using acrylic paint, tissue paper collage, gesso, pencil, metal stylus, gel pen, stencil, house paint, krink ink, and oil pastels.

---

Today was [her] funeral. 

I can’t imagine life without her. 

I suppose I should be grateful 

that she lived as long as she did 

but I’m not 

because it wasn’t long enough.

I can’t stop crying.

Jules Hardy, Altered Land 

It Wasn't Long Enough
2.75x4"; paint, ink, pencil, oil pastels, and collage on paper,
mounted on white paper and card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Playboards

Nicholas Wilton encourages artists to make what he refers to as playboards and others might refer to as activating the canvas. The idea is to just put down paint with as little thought as possible as a loosening up exercise before moving into other phases of a painting.

History of the playboard I generated today:

piece of calendar poster
rough brush and gesso
crosshatching with princeton catalyst blade



grease pencil



golden high flow acrylic dripped onto wet surface
tube acrylics, bristle brush, foam brush



acrylic paint pens



gel pen
papermate sharpwriter pencil
oil pastels



scissors
masking fluid (far right)
  


Fun.

Change of Direction

Changed direction today. Grabbed a piece of manila stock that I'd gessoed months ago, sprayed some water on it, pulled out some fluid acrylics that I've barely ever used, and dropped some color onto my 'canvas.' With sunshine and mild temps beckoning, I took the show outdoors to my front steps, loaded up with three or four different kinds of pastels, some pencils, a couple of pens. Back indoors to drip some house paint and use a texture sheet.

Could have stopped way back at simpler, but evidently I didn't.

Even so, this was just a quick spontaneous exploration, and now I have a postcard to send to my dad.

You Scratch My Back, I'll Scratch Yours
4x5"; acrylic, ink, and pastels on manila stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Layer 11/100

What an engaging experiment, to keep adding layer after layer. So many surprises as I go along. So much visual excitement. I just love the new pieces that keep emerging day after day.

Today, neutral Liquitex Parchment color mixed with a few drops of white and applied with a foam brush. A few seconds later, scribbling with a metal stylus, loving the unpredictability of where paint had dried and wasn't interested in moving, where it was still wet and would yield, and what got revealed. Throughout, the fun of getting up close and personal with details from all the layers preceding today's creative venturing. Layer 11.

layer 11/100

Layer 8/100

Gentle rain tapping on the skylight.

Gentle layers going onto my work in progress.

Repeatedly rotating my gessobord.

Collaging with scraps of tissue paper: light blue, darker blue, light yellow-green, and white-with-thin-lines.

Accentuating, veiling, overlapping, making subtly simpler here, introducing quiet complexity there.

Layer 8.

layer 8/100

Layer 7/100

I've put multiple layers on paintings many times, and often more than the seven layers I have on my current work in progress.

The difference is that in this case I've elected to participate informally in a 100layersofpaint challenge that I learned about from an online artist friend.

I don't even know what the guidelines of the challenge are, nor who's sponsoring it. Right now I'm just adding some kind of layer each day.

Already, even with just these few layers, I've swung back and forth more than once between liking and not liking.

What I do consistently like, though, is the mindset I'm noticing. I feel more open to experimentation than usual, more exploratory.

Today's additions: stamped letters/numbers, acrylic skin, more red dots.

Layer 7.

layer 7/100

Do I love those stamped letters and numbers? Totally. Yes, yes, yes.

Collaging a few strips of a clear acrylic skin, with its embedded black fabric-ink lines, was also especially fun. Ahead of time I thought to myself, Why go to the trouble of collaging this film, why not just draw some black lines directly? Because, I discovered, the lines offer up something different from what I'd ever think to draw in context. Love 'em.

sample acrylic skin with fabric-ink scribbles

Layers 5/100 & 6/100

Feels like I'm creating the site of a future archaelogical dig.

Added tiny gold ink circles in some of the shapes created by my having painted negative space in layer 3. Added black ink lines in some of the other shapes. Added blue ink scribbles in the negative space. Added red and gold dots in the negative space. Layer 5.

layer 5/100

Rotated my gessobord again, inscribed the gold ink circles with black ink, mixed up some blue, white, and green acrylic, and repainted negative space to accentuate the quadrilateral shapes again. Scribbled the wet paint with a stylus to reveal some lower layer paint. Layer 6.

layer 6/100

100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall

100 bottles of beer on the wall,
100 bottles of beer,
You take one down,
and pass it around …

Oh, wait! That's not the song I meant to sing.

Same tune, though.

100 layers of paint on the page,
100 layers of paint,
You slap one down,
and turn it around …

Took an applicator bottle of ink, made shapes and drips. Layer 4.

layer 4

Don't like the results at all.

Don't think it'll much matter if I like or don't like this layer of mark making—it's hard to imagine any trace of it will be visible 96 layers from now!

Chain Reaction

A little chain reaction that started right around the first of the year:

• Simone tuned me in to Instagram so I began posting;

• Sheila pointed me in the direction of some tips on how to use Instagram at my computer vs. on my phone which suddenly gave me much easier ways to connect with other artists and have conversations;

• Betty painted a painting that was very compelling;

• I admired another Instagram painting and wished for the umpteenth time that I could/would layer and veil more freely when I paint; and

• out of the blue, Marielle encouraged me to participate in a 100layersofpaint challenge.

Nah, I thought. I've got way too much going on.

And I did have too much going on. Still do.

But just hours before I headed on my midMarch vacation, I impulsively grabbed an old painting done on gessobord. I felt tenderness for that early investigation of whatever it was that abstract painting might be.

But, well, buh-bye. Secrets of a Bayside Barn served a purpose then, but now it had a new purpose. It officially became Layer 1. I knew it would be easy to add new layers without hesitation.

layer 1/100

I grabbed a Posca paint pen and wrote 100 layers of paint all over it. Layer 2.

layer 2/100

About half an hour before we left for the airport, I just had to add another layer. Total fun. Then I washed brushes, scrambled to stuff last-minute items in my suitcase and backpack, hoped I wasn't leaving anything behind, and headed out the door.

layer 3/100

Awesome. Totally love it.

Effervescence

Today I just let bubble up whatever wanted to bubble up.

Little happy pops of color and PaperMate Sharpwriter pencil scribbles, as it turned out.

In Wonder at All That Followed
1.5x5.5"; acrylic and pencil on black cardboard
abstract
2017

I have referred to and have been using some of my recent pieces as bookmarks, but they hold their heads magnificently high as beautiful pieces of small framable art as well. One of my favorite pieces of art, purchased probably 20 years ago, is 1x3" and looks exquisite matted in its elegant 9x12" frame on a wall in my home; my tall-and-thins could easily follow suit.

Here's a second montage of pieces from my now-complete tall-and-thin series.

willowy siblings

I Don't Know Why You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

I'm noticing the bittersweet feeling of recent goodbyes—I'm feeling the tug and resistance of the parting, the richness and joy of the coming together, the laughter and depth of the space in between. I am inviting myself to be here and now no matter where, to say hello, and hello, and hello.

Right here and just now: playing with some hand-painted collage and Posca pens.

You Know How Goodbyes Feel
1.5x5.5"; acrylic and collage on black cardboard
abstract
2017

Circulation Desk

I've gone to the circulation desk at my library more than once trying to find a book about which I have just the merest wisps of information. I'm trying to find a book on CD whose title I can't remember. My sister recommended it to me. It's about a house, or construction. Or an architect. But I think maybe it's told in first person by the house itself?

Happily, the librarians get into problem-solving mode with me and we have a grand time following the few crumbs I've offered up as clues.

And we almost always find what I'm looking for.

Wonder what'd transpire if I went to the circulation desk and made the following query: Do you know of a book whose cover might go well with this bookmark? … preferably fiction, preferably with a plot I'll like?

The Lake Wrinkles Under a New Breeze
1.5x5.5"; acrylic and ink on black cardboard
abstract
2017