Tulip Crazy!

I confess . . . this spring I became a little bit crazy for tulips.  I don't mean just buying them by the pot load, but taking shots of them.  Every morning it became a ritual -- a few cups of java to get me going and then I was dragging these little puppies into the family room where we get incredible light streaming in from the southeast.  

 I tried catching them at all stages -- when tightly budded to fully open and onto the blowsy stage when the petals are about to fall off.

And that didn't include the obsession with color -- oh, my . . . !   From softest pinks to cherry red to cha-cha orange and finally to the ultimate yellow.  

 

What more can I say?  Like I said -- just plain tulip crazy.  And now there's not a trace of them in the garden at this time.  The bulbs slumber under the soil, waiting for the time to rejoin us next spring.

Oh sure, I'll probably browse the flower shops to see if there are any available, but that wouldn't be the same as, after a long New England winter, you find the first ones peeping up at you amid the melting snow and mud.  

These images are available at my online shop, Red Bubble.  From greeting cards to journals and notebooks, clothing, travel mugs and more, add something lovely to your life.  Because right now, we deserve a bit of lovely in our lives, don't you think?

Hoping you're all healthy and staying in fine fettle!

Cheers,

Kelly

Collaging with color

At a Glance

Taking advantage of the fairly mild weather -- no digging out from under snow and ice -- to get back to something more creative. I had begun these collages for an annual invitational, but never was able to reach the point where I wanted to inflict them on others . . . 

Not that I'm a big fan of pink but after looking out the window at white for weeks on end . . . well, you just want to see something invigorating for a change from gray, black, white and brown.

I've used these papers before, taken from Italian at a Glance (1920). The pages are quite brittle and the cover has fallen off, but I try to salvage the pages themselves.

The scrap of mathematics is from a child's primer from about 1910, and the pieces of fabric are scraps from old quilting projects.  I like them because they're soft and wrinkled, but when the acrylic gel is applied, it smooths them right out.

Earlier today I pulled out some old  paintings on birch panels and decided to 'upcycle' them into something a bit more abstract.  

I tend to be influenced by what I'm reading and yesterday I pulled a book off the shelf that I had forgotten about:  Barbara Rae Prints.  Talk about being hit by color -- Rae's monoprints and etchings are fantastical, surreal, dream-like.  

But now it's a race against time as the gardens will be screaming for work by mid-April -- and on top of all this, I've gotten back to writing again.  I'm hoping to have a manuscript (or two) ready for submittal by early May.  Well, at least that's the goal.  However, every time I set a goal, someone keeps moving those goal posts!

Here is the meaning of the happy moment:

color and I are one.     

Paul Klee

Spring Sale!

Just spending some time trying to organize various painting, drawings, sketches, etc.   This weekend the weather has been a bit too cold to do much in the garden, so am diddling around in the 'studio,' doing odds and ends.  It's hard to get motivated on a Sunday when you know Monday is only a few hours away!

Decided to try "marketing"  some of my works, as I'm contemplating opening up an Etsy store later in the spring.  But whatever the decision, many of my paintings and collages are availabe on Red Bubble as prints, notecards and more -- just click on the images below -- 

As Monty Python would say --

Eclipse
walnut ink, stamping on Canson Mi-Teinte paper
8" x 10"

-- and now for something completely different . . .

My last few entries have been such serious topics, so I thought I would do a more light-hearted entry before the holidays ensue.

One art-making process that I have not tried but find fascinating is monotype. My favorite art book is Helen Frankenthaler Prints by Ruth E. Fine, which I pour over several times a year, especially when feeling frustrated and cluttered in the head. The simplicity of the images, the lack of noise and excess marks I find soothing. Yet the combinations of inks, oils and pastels on various papers speak to a complex process that I know little about.

I went to an open studio in Northampton, Massachusetts last weekend, and on display were various prints by students at a local printmaking center. I bought several and plan to take some workshops myself after the holidays. The next day I tried a few small-scale pieces just to see how the materials work. Suffice it to say, the best of the experiment is the one above, which looks very much like a sad Rorschach inkblot!

Learning new methods and new combinations of materials is a humbling experience. It takes one back to square one, to that cognizant level of total ignorance, of stumbling and making mistakes. And yet, often the little grey cells respond and one feels refreshed and recharged.

It's all about navigating these internal maps of discovery, isn't it? Of feeling one's way through the minefields of our own egos, our assumptions, our prejudices. It's like those ancient maps where the edges were filled with monsters and strange creatures. Of course they were! In those days, edges represented blank areas where scary things lurked -- the threatening unknown, the void. I think that's how art and creativity can be sometimes. Huge voids that stare back at us, daring us to do something, anything.

I often think that Melville's Captain Ahab was an artist -- at one point in the novel he rants, "I want to smash my fist through the face of God!"

Well, Moby Dick was white.

Another blank canvas, another empty paper, another blank screen.

Need I say more . . . ?

Happy Turkey Day to everyone -- peace & joy to all -- !