April is the Cruelest Month - T.S. Eliot

I'm looking out my window at a gray and rainy landscape. Two days ago is was sunny and actually hot. I relished the sun and worked in the garden for the first time. Felt so good to have my hands in the dirt, dividing and transplanting. Then it all changed and we're back to cold and gray. I am glad for rain instead of snow, however. The grass is green and the trees are budding. Daffodils and tulips are in bloom. T.S. Eliot called April the cruelest month, and it can be pretty fickle. Snow, rain, sun; warmth and back to cold. But April also marks the beginning of the new cycle of life and hope. Gray and rain will change to sun and warmth. Birds are gathering nesting materials and the trees will leaf out quickly. Winter birds have gone and summer birds will soon be here, if they're not already. I've been listening for the orioles, but I haven't heard them yet. Only another few weeks before the first ruby throat humming bird will arrive. In the meantime, I'll enjoy the unfolding of Spring.

After the Rush

After delivering the vestments on April 10th, I spent a week focusing intensely on the final preparations for my daughter's wedding, which was Saturday, April 18. It was a beautiful wedding, made more beautiful by the sheer joy reflected in both faces of this young couple. They've waited seven years to make it "official". I am thrilled for them.

It is a strange feeling as I write this, however. With my large project mostly finished and delivered, and my daughter's wedding over, I have time to reflect. Both of my children are young women. Both are married and I am the grandmother of a four-year-old granddaughter. I am content in my life, my relationships, and am pursuing the artist' life I've always dreamed of having. So where has the time gone?! I swear I've been aware of every part of my life as I've lived it, yet looking back, it seems as if it's gone so quickly. Weren't they just little girls yesterday? Wasn't it only a week ago that I was taking pictures of their first steps, first day of school, first date? There's art in the making here. Time . . . an intangible that there's never enough of.

The Satisfaction of Completion

I have finished the major portion of the commission I have been working on. The chasuble is the piece I had the mishap with the lining!! Thank goodness for reputable fabric stores who keep good fabrics in stock and will send things quickly.

There are two pieces remaining to be completed, and I will finish them in the next week. These pieces and three others were delivered yesterday. They will be used this weekend for the Easter services, beginning Saturday night.

Each time I accept a commission, I wonder if I've lost my sanity while I'm working on it. The deadlines do help me buckle down and get things finished, but when I mess up, it creates more anxiety than I like. And yet, when the piece is completed, and I see that the "client" likes it, I am ecstatic! It's all worth it, and I will continue to accept commissions. I find them challenging and great learning experiences.

I wonder about other artists and commission work. Even though it can be anxiety producing to accept them, the reward is so great when I see their face as the work is unveiled. I'd be interested to hear what other artists think or feel about accepting commissions.

Breathing Deeply

I know that in the world of creative endeavors, there is a great possibility that what I've created or attempted to create from the vision in my head, won't work, and I'll need to start over. Many projects have ended up in the waste basket, but I have learned from the mistakes. That's why I try to give myself extra time to work on things when there is a deadline involved. Even so, I've lived the past few years with the horrible fantasy of mis-cutting something right before a deadline, and having to order fabric to finish the commission. I just kept telling myself that if I were very careful, it wouldn't happen.

Well, it's happened! I miscalculated, my pattern slipped, and I don't have enough fabric to re-cut the pieces. I have one week to deliver this work. I have ordered more fabric and am hoping upon hope it arrives within 2 days. It was either that or pay as much as the fabric is worth to have it sent over night. I'm just thankful it isn't the night before, and also thankful that it's the lining rather than the top, which is where all the fancy stuff has been completed. I'm trying to look at the bright side. I'm also trying not to panick. That wouldn't be helpful.

So, I'll focus my energy on the companion pieces until the new fabric arrives, and breathe deeply, in and out.

It's Officially Spring!

It's finally here! The season of unpredictability! Unstable weather conditions prevail. One day it's 70 degrees F, and the next, 35! Rain may give way to snow, or even thunder snow, while flowers begin to bloom. I have a small patch of daffodils in bloom close to the house. The iris is pushing out of the ground and the cuckoo pint is tall and green.

The bird population is beginning to shift. The junkos have gone and the dreaded grackles are back. In a couple of weeks I'll be listening for the distinctive sound of the Orioles. We will fill the feeders with oranges and grape jelly and watch for flashes of brilliant orange as they come to partake of the sweet treats. Much to look forward to in the next few weeks as the light continues to increase and the landscape changes from brown to green.

Warmer weather, more hours of sunlight, and new growth always energize me, both physically and creatively. Sometimes it's difficult to corral the ideas floating around. I try to travel with my camera and/or a small sketch book, but don't always manage. Sometimes, the tiniest little thing will inspire a thought process that takes me on a journey I never would have imagined. I can't wait to see where this Spring takes me.

Do others find the Spring season more energizing? Is there an increase in your creativity?

Why is it Difficult to Claim the title of Artist?

As I've been reading blogs and tweets and articles, and talking with other artist friends, I have noticed that it's difficult for some creative people to refer to themselves as artists. There's a tendency to apologize for being creative, and spending time in creative endeavors. This strikes a chord with me, because I, too, still fight feelings of inadequacy and insecurity.

I remember having a conversation quite a few years ago with another artist friend, about whether we were artists with a capital "A" or a lower case "a". I'll give us credit for the fact that we were even talking about being artists, as I felt that just referring to myself that way was somehow unthinkable. Years later, it seems somewhat sad that we even contemplated a difference. Which brings me to the question, what is the mystique of calling oneself an artist? Why is it so difficult to claim the title?

David Bayles and Ted Orland, in their book "Art and Fear" talk about the "view of artmaking today - namely, that art rests fundamentally upon talent, and that talent is a gift randomly built into some people and not into others." In other words, the artist has been given a gift and is able to create great works of art because of this alone. Prodigies are rare, but as a culture we've all bought into the image. Speaking for myself, it leaves me with feelings of insecurity, and wondering if I'm "talented" enough.

Intellectually, I know, art is made by ordinary people. People who work hard to learn the basics; who produce a lot of work that ends up in the waste basket. While talent might be a step in the proverbial direction, it's really an issue of passion. When the desire to create overcomes the fear of not being perfect, one can make marks on the paper, or put brush to canvas or cut the fabric. When I'm not thinking about the end result, but focusing on the process, I learn something. What I'm producing in that moment may not be the best work of art I've ever done, but the knowledge gained from creating it will be put to use on the next piece. It's the passion that makes me want to go the next step, create the next piece. It may end up as part of the trash tomorrow, but today, it's what I do.

So, what about others? Is it difficult for you to call yourself an artist? And if not, have you always been able to? I welcome your comments.

How Do We Balance Social Networking and the Business of Work?

I've just entered the social networking system with Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn. Information moves almost instantaneously. I can "instant message" with any one of my "friends" who happen to be online through Facebook, or through my computer's camera on other networks with family and friends anywhere in the world. I can find and network with those who might have mutual business interests and I don't even need to leave my house. The world at my fingertips!

While all of this is wonderful, and somewhat miraculous to my baby boomer mind, I also feel a little bit like my "network" is beginning to sweep me off my feet and carry me down stream. I'm having difficulty keeping up and wondering when some people who post often to Twitter, etc. get their work done. Finding people around the world to network with is great and offers unlimited possibilities to build a business, but how do others balance the actual work production of art for sale (which is why one networks, isn't it?) with marketing and connecting?

I'd certainly be open to suggestions as I'm finding it a difficult balance. How about it . . . how do YOU find the balance?

What's an art quilt?

I was asked by a fellow artist the other day, why so many different names for art made from fiber, i.e. art quilt, fiber art, textile art, mixed media, etc. She also made a statement that as she has perused other artists blogs and websites, what she often sees that is referred to as quilt art, has nothing to do with quilts. She was somewhat confused. I attempted to explain how I see the differences and why different people might want to refer to what they do differently. That attempt follows:

What is an art quilt? According to several organizations, the definition of a quilt is, 2 or more layers held together by stitching. Most will have a fabric sleeve on the back for hanging with a rod. An art quilt is intended for the wall, and may or may not have, any number of surface design treatments, using applique' and/or other media, such as paint, ink, photo transfer, beads, yarns, and found objects attached in one way or another to create the image.

Most quilt shows now have a category for art quilts. As a matter of fact the International Quilt Association show in Houston every year is really dedicated to the art quilt as well as "the art of quilting", offering thousands of dollars in awards for the most outstanding work. The American Quilters Society is another large association that has large shows offering awards, and has a quilt museum in Paducah, KY.

Contemporary quilting is very different from the quilts our foremothers made. The majority are no longer only utilitarian pieces made from clothing scraps. The patterns are well thought out, drafted and executed using a sense of color and design to enhance the pattern. The quilting, or stitching, patterns themselves have evolved into being more and more complex. The majority of quilts are quilted by machine rather than hand. Even if a quilt is intended for the bed, coordinating and contrasting colors and fabrics forming the design, present a contemporary way of creating quilts.

I believe there is a bit of politics involved as well when referring to ones art as art quilt, fiber/textile or mixed media art. In my experience, as soon as someone hears the word "quilt", grandma's bed quilt/blanket tend to be the associations. For some, to call themselves fiber or textile artists, or mixed media artists, gets away from that perception, and they feel their work won't be prejudged by the term quilt. These artists may want to become involved in gallery shows as well as, or instead of, quilt shows.

Not all fiber art meets the definition of a quilt. Some artists frame their work, or put it on stretchers to hang. In these cases, the work may not consist of layers held together by stitch, but instead may be any treatment of fabric or use of fibers in a surface design. My own work consists of both art forms, the art quilt, and fiber art that is intended to be framed or stretched as a canvas. Therefore, I refer to myself as a mixed media and/or fiber or textile artist.

For more information on textile art go to: Studio Art Quilters Assocation and/or the Surface Design Association

American Gothic

A friend sent me a quote this morning via email that I've been thinking about all morning.

"Masterpieces are not single and solitary births; they are the outcome of many years of thinking in common, of thinking by the body of the people, so that the experience of the mass is behind the single voice. This experience of the mass is what gives art its healing power, its prophetic strength and durability." Virginia Woolf

I had the opportunity to view Grant Woods' painting, American Gothic last week in person. Our art museum has it on loan as part of an exhibit called "After Many Springs: Regionalism, Modernism & the Midwest". It's a wonderful exhibit with some great photographs, and paintings by Wood, Thomas Hart Benton, John Steuart Curry, Jackson Pollock, Ben Shahn, Dorthea Lange and others. But I went to see the masterpiece: American Gothic.

What is it about this painting that separates it from the rest? Why is this one a masterpiece? American Gothic was painted in 1930 in Iowa. The images of the man and woman, are iconic and somewhat mysterious. He looks straight ahead, while the woman looks off to the side. It makes one wonder what she's seeing, what she's thinking. Wood didn't say much about his painting, other than the woman is the man's daughter, when asked about their relationship. Their facial expressions are such that the viewer must decide what they are feeling.

I could stand close enough to the painting to see the brush strokes and how the paint was applied. But to stand a short distance away and take in the image in it's entirety is a wonder. As I thought about the quote above and American Gothic, I began to think about the story the painting tells. I thought about what I know about 1930 and the rural landscape of Iowa. About the Great Depression and what life on the land was like. I took in the facial expressions of the figures, this man and his daughter, and wondered. I was drawn in, caught up in the story, transported to another place, another time. Masterpiece.

It's Melting (or what a difference a week makes)

The sun is out and it's almost 50 degrees today! The snow and ice is melting. So I went and chopped away some of the ice and shoveled some snow off the storm drain in front of the house or else I was afraid the water would start to come up the driveway rather than go down the drain. I think it's about 3 ft. high on top and I could only get about 10 inches of the drain cleared. Made a huge difference though.

Then I went for a walk along the bike path behind our house which follows the creek.


I got some pictures of the creek and some weeds in the snow.

In my exploration of textures, I find the weeds quite interesting. I may need to enlarge this one and study it more.



I liked how the squirrel's next seems to have weighed the branch down so it hangs above the water.