#73, Misty Morning on the James, creating mist with ink??

Continuing my efforts to figure out how Paul Landacre created his fabulous woodcuts (see previous blog), I picked out this image of mine from the James River one morning when everything was shrouded in mist. It was a good exercise to try to convey the sense of mist using ink. When I was doing the sky and water, it helped that my pen was almost completely out of ink so I could create lines that had very little ink in them, thus giving the sensation of mist.

I have created this piece in pastel as well.  I've posted it below this more recent piece.  Do you have a preference?

#73 Morning Mist on the James
pen and ink
8"x8"
unframed, $150

I have to admit, I was surprised to see this! I thought I had combined the colors to a greater degree so it would look mistier. But I remember now - this is how I start the pieces that will be very neutral in color.  I put in lots of difference light hues then continue to layer them until they eventually look neutral.  With this one, I liked how this looked so much, I stopped here. Good thing I keep records so I can see what I've done!

Morning Mist on the James
pastel
10"x10", framed 17"x17"
$350

And here's one of the misty pieces where I kept layering until the colors were more neutral.  It started out the same as the one directly above. 

Three Rocks on the James
pastel
10"x10", framed 17"x17
$350

If you're interested in purchasing any of these, please email me at SusanSingerArt@msn.com.  Thanks!

#72 Thingvellir Valley, a pen and ink drawing

One of the last days of my 2017 visit to Iceland, I was traveling with my dear friend Zuzana to Thingvellir, the site of Europe's first Parliament in 963. It is a broad valley in the south of Iceland with sufficient water and grassy lands for folks to gather and find what they needed to stay a while. It also has the most interesting rock faces which were formed by earthquakes and the movement of tectonic plates.  I don't know enough geology to be able to begin to explain what happened, but each time I visit there, I am enthralled by the walls of rock. They are 20'-30' tall, bereft of life other than a plant or two sometimes growing out of the crevices. They're imposing, silent witnesses to all that has happened there. Laws were created; justice was meted out - sometimes cruelly as from the hanging rock or the drowning pool; alliances were formed; couples were coupled; horses and sheep were traded. In more recent times, Icelanders have gathered there to celebrate freedom from Denmark and other important hallmarks.

Tons of tourists go there because it is relatively close to Reykjavik and is part of the "Golden Circle" trio of sites: Thingvellir, Geysir, and Gullfoss (a waterfall). It is where the European and North American continents meet - you can even scuba dive at Silfra, the rift between the continents. There's a place you can touch both continents at once! The water is so clear there, it's disconcerting even to experienced divers.  And cold!  The water that feeds it is glacial, so you have to wear the right diving suit, etc., to have that experience!

When I go to Thingvellir, I tune in to a most remarkable energy that makes me feel really good. It emanates from the ground and swoops through me. I gather inspiration and a feeling that all is right with the world from it. I visit there each time I am in Iceland to experience the energy and even chose to stay on the lake one year for 18 days to have more time there.

The picture I created here is from a part of Thingvellir National Park where there aren't so many tourists. The rift valley seems to extend forever, and I can well imagine horsemen arriving from the North for the annual gathering at Thingvellir. I'm guessing it looks very much now like it did over 1000 years ago.

#72 Thingvellir Valley
pen and ink
11"x8"

My impetus for creating that picture was Paul Landacre's woodcuts. I saw them on Pinterest and wanted to try to create something similar. In drawing my piece, I learned just how difficult it is to simplify the landscape as beautifully as Landacre did. I plan to keep trying, but my marks became much more detailed, not as general. I really like his work and want to learn what I can from it. I find it very helpful to try to copy art by artists I admire - I learn a lot from their style and methods of working and eventually incorporate it into my own work, or at least have a sense of their strokes in my own fingers as I work.

Monterey Hills
by Paul Landacre
woodcut

#65 - #71 Creativity Affirmations

Another group of affirmations which help me consider the possibilities...

#65 "Creativity occurs in the moment, and in the moment, we are timeless."
~Julia Cameron, author of The Artist's Way, the best book I've ever read (5 times and counting) about creativity 

#66 "The object isn't to make art, it's to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable."
~ Robert Henri

I wrote this a lot of times because it feels so very very true. I wonder what that compulsion is about - why exactly do I need to draw or paint the things I see which are so uttery beautiful? Why can't I just look and be content? Perhaps it's because I feel a need to capture them and bring them through my body, my brain, my soul, so they stay there forever. Is everyone like that, or is it just artists and writers and dancers and other creatives?

#67 "I just want to make beautiful things even if no one cares."
~ Felix H.

#68 "She who works with her hands is a laborer.
She who works with her hands and her head is a craftsperson.
She who works with her hand and her head and her heart is an artist."
~ St. Francis of Assisi (except for the pronouns - I changed those)

Believe it or not, there were times in my life when I got grumpy! When the kids were around at that time, they would often very kindly and gently suggest I might need to go into the studio to make me feel better. They were invariably right. Out of the mouths of babes...!

#69 "I am always doing what I cannot do yet in order to learn how to do it."
~Vincent VanGogh
and
"If anxiety, fear, desire, and restlessness have come into your life
and time, energy, and calm have left you, you are probably an artist.
Make something. 
Anything.
You will feel better."
~author unknown

"An artist feels vulnerable to begin with; and yet the only answer is to recklessly discard more armour."
~Eric Maisel

I've thought about this so often - if you think about the ancient civilizations of Greece or Rome, what do you think of? Probably the architecture or the art you know from that time. It's how we learn about the people and their beliefs and values.

Or is it? Do our artists reflect our beliefs and values? Or are they the canaries in the caves? The ones who scream with primal angst to warn the civilizations about what's happening? I think of the artists in Pre-Hitler Germany. They were beginning to address their concerns about Hitler and his policies. Artists today are creating art about global climate change. Will we listen and act accordingly? Or will future civilizations find artifacts from our artists and draw slightly false conclusions about our beliefs and values - they are warnings, not pictures of how things are - more, how they could be.

Civilizations aren't remembered by their business people, bankers, or lawyers. They're remembered by their arts."
~Eli Broad

#59 - #64 of 100 Creations in 100 Days: On being an Artist

Here are some more pictures from the book of Creativity Affirmations I made for myself for when I wanted to read words of wisdom by people who've been on this road too. Being an artist is a true blessing, but I wouldn't say it's easy.  Occasionally I wonder what it would be like to know that I was to go to work 8-5, 5 days a week, was to perform certain tasks, and, in exchange, I would receive a steady paycheck, benefits, and requests for work I was to do, weekends and evenings off, and two solid weeks a year when I didn't have to think one bit about work. On the one hand, it's a delightful thought! So many uncertainties taken care of! So many things I wouldn't need to figure out for myself!

On the other hand, it's a ghastly thought - be under someone else's direction? Constantly be told by someone else what I needed to do next? To give my time away for 8-9 hours/day? Have little to no outlet for my own desires/thoughts/creativity/decisions? I think I would bristle under such constraints. 

I worked for a nascient computer corporation in Silicon Valley in the early 80's as a Personnel Clerk. It was fascinating because I learned so much - how to use a computer, how to do data bases, rules about hiring and firing, etc., etc.  But... the way I'm built, I felt myself chomping at the bit. As soon as I figured out how to do something, I wanted to do more. I wanted to move on. I could see how things should be and, at the ripe old age of 23, figured I knew better. I would go home from work and complain to my husband about work and eventually, 11 months in, I quit so I could find something else. 

I ultimately became a teacher and had the pleasure of working in Vienna, Austria, teaching elementary school kids how to speak German for two years. I served on the Teacher's Counsel there so I coud help determine policy and could negotiate for our salaries. I had watched Norma Rae and knew how to bargain. Well! All that got me was the Principal very kindly but firmly telling me, "Susan, your anger isn't going to get you where you want to go. It would be good to get it in check."  Chastened, I retreated and learned that not everything needs to be a fight.  I'm grateful to him for his kind words, said with compassion for a young firebrand.

I carry that attitude into everything I do - charging forward, ready to take on the world, wanting to do everything at once, determined, efficient, capable.

That doesn't work well in the work world, I don't think. It seems like one needs to comply and do what the bosses want and not complain.  I say this without really knowing, though, and I'm sure it varies from company to company.

Instead of trying to fit myself into that mold, I went rogue and worked as a private tutor for the 25 years while I was raising my children. It was the perfect job for me since I could set my own hours; I worked for each person privately so had no boss; I collected my own income; I could take time off as needed; I could teach in ways I felt would most effectively help the students I was working with.  It was a wonderful job!

...Until even that felt restrictive! I was working on Beyond Barbie, the art and performance series I created about women's body image and empowerment. I spent every waking hour painting, planning, talking to folks, coordinating, etc. - even when I was tutoring! I realized I needed to be doing Beyond Barbie/my art full time as I could no longer give students everything they deserved.

I asked my husband to sit with me and I told him I had to quit work - I had to be a full time artist. I simply didn't have a choice. From that day until now, I have been plying this creative trade.

Every day is different. Every day demands the best from me. Every day I set my own agenda. I teach a lot of art classes and private students, but I am doing art from morning til night. It's so different than working an office job:

There's no boss (except for me, and I'm a VERY demanding boss!)

No steady paycheck

No benefits (other than job satisfaction, joy, contentment, delight, excitement, etc.)

No retirement savings account

No paid vacations (though I certainly manage to vacate for long periods of time to Iceland!)

No one telling me what to do.

There's really no time off - I am thinking about and/or creating all the time.

Sometimes it's tricky not having someone to tell me what to do (not that I want that -), and I have to figure it out for myself. That's when these affirmations come in handy. They remind me that I'm not the only one who's been here. These great artists have had moments of wisdom and clarity. It helps to dip into their worlds for a moment and rest in their wisdom.

"A work of art is a scream of freedom."
~ Christo
So true - every time I create something, I am putting myself out into the world, amsaying to the world, this is what I see, this is what I feel, this is who I am. There is tremendous freedom in that.

"The spirit of creation is an excruciating intricate exploration from within the soul."
~ el Greco

"A line is a dot that went for a walk."
~Paul Klee

Creative people need time to just sit around and do nothing."
~ Austin Kleon
This is probably the most difficult one for me to remember! It's very difficult for me to "just sit around". I tend to judge my worthiness as a person by how much I've gotten done in a day. The times I have taken time to relax, though, I am significantly refreshed and happier and more able to create. So intellectually I know it's true. I just can't always convince myself to do it!

"Art is not just ornamental, an enhancement of life.
It is a path in itself, a way out of the predictable and conventional... a map to self discovery."
~ Gabriella Roth

"The painting leads the painter."
~ Ardath Davis

#53 - #58 of 100 Creations in 100 Days: Creativity Affirmations

February 24, 2019

I was in a bit of a funk, not clear about what I was doing creatively. I think most artists go there at least some of the time. When I started this blog, I thought I'd be very consistent, creating a large scale painting each day and posting it, writing about my process or the image each evening.

Life doesn't turn out the way you expect.  I know that. Yet it still comes as a surprise just about every time! 

I simply haven't had enough time to get into the studio as consistently as I'd like to, so those large paintings haven't happened - yet. Instead, I've been experimenting my visual journal and accepting that the drawing I'm doing as demos in class count as well for my self-challenge.  On this particular day, I wanted to offer encouragement to a friend whom I saw as needing creative encouragement, so I put together a book of quotes on creativity and started illustrating it. Before I was even half way through, I realized it wasn't for him - it was for me! I keep picking up the book and dipping in to read the quotes at the start of the day. It never hurts to get a bit of inspiration from someone else's wisdom. 

Below I've attached several of the pages and will attach others in tomorrow's and the next day's posts to provide you with a bit of affirmation for your creative journey if you need it too!

(By the way, if you're interested in spending 3 hours a day for a week playing in your visual journal, I'll be teaching just such a class at the Visual Arts Center of Richmond, June 17-21, 1:30 - 4:30 daily, Monday - Friday.  It isn't on their website yet, so if you're interested, you can contact me to ask me to tell you when it is, or take a look in May and sign up then.)

#53 "I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way, things I had no words for."
~ Georgia O'Keeffe

#54 "The artist must train not only her eye, but also her soul."
~Wassily Kandinsky
(I might have changed pronouns here just a bit!)

#55 "One can speak poetry just by arranging colors well."
~Vincent VanGogh
~image by Chihuly

#56 "an artist is an explorer"
~Henri Matisse

#57 "The artist produces for the Liberation of her soul.  It is
her nature to create as it is the nature of water to run down the hill."
~Author Unknown
(I may have changed these pronouns too!)

#58 "Color is the place where our Brains and the Universe meet."
~Paul Klee

#52 of 100 Creations in 100 Days: Playing with Glass

One of the bonuses of teaching art is that sometimes I also get to DO art in class, as when I do a demo. Yesterday when working with a private student, I gave her an assignment to draw a clear glass vase using pastels. We analyzed where the light hit the vase, where the reflections were, how the paper the vase was resting on affected the base, how the background worked, and more. She did a great job with that task, so I put water into the vase and we compared the two images. How does water affect reflections? I began a demo piece to give her more of a sense of what I was talking about and took the time to finish it after she left.

I'd never taken the time to draw reflections on glass before, so it was interesting learning as I was teaching - two of the true pleasures of teaching are having the chance to learn as I go and to have the delight of watching students learn too.

Parker Palmer on Being Fierce with Reality

How wonderful!  I just read a post by Parker Palmer which speaks so directly to my experience in Iceland which I've just spent days writing about that I thought I'd share it here. Here are his words:

"You need only claim the events of your life to make yourself yours. When you truly possess all you have been and done…you are fierce with reality."

 As some of you know, that has long been one of my favorite quotes. It comes from "The Measure of My Days,” a remarkable book about aging written by Florida Scott-Maxwell when she was 85. I turned 80 a couple of days ago, so 85 no longer seems terribly old to me!

Ever since I read Scott-Maxwell’s words, becoming “fierce with reality” has been one of my aspirations—with the understanding that in order to get there, I could not blink or deny anything I’ve "been or done."

So on my annual January retreat this year, I took along two journals I kept during an especially anguished period of my life, journals I had not looked at for many years. They were not easy to read, but I’m glad I did. Revisiting that part of my journey in pained detail led to a breakthrough that, in turn, led to the poem below.

I share all of this not because my experience is important to anyone but me. I share it because I believe that Florida Scott-Maxwell’s counsel is important—and because I’ve learned that peace lies on the other side of anguish, if we are willing to walk into rather than around our most painful experiences...

Walk in the Woods (#51)

Walking along the snowy road, I notice a child's playground with a zipline beckoning. I overcome my shyness and the voices telling me I'll look dumb - it's for kids - what if I fall - what will people think - is it allowed - I don't really want to - what if? - I climb onto the wobbly seat, secure my camera in my pocket, back up to get placed right, and let myself go. I can't stop - I shriek with delight from the fun of it. I stop safely and pull the seat back to the start. Again. Again. I feel the cold air rush into my squinched eyes as my body rushes uncontrolled, uncontrollable through space.

Finally, unsated but full of joy, I get off the seat, adjust my snow pants, and walk on. There's a bright wide, well-trodden road, but of course I choose the narrow path that enters the woods and contains a hint of mystery. The Icelandic woods with their young fir trees and little undergrowth feel so different from the patch of woods by my house with its 100-year-old oaks, towering birches, scraggly holly trees and abundant blueberries, creeping cedar, and ferns underneath. Our woods are a virtual jungle with ticks, opossums, raccoons, mice, chimpmunks, deer, stray cats, hawks, crows, and owls populating the land as the swaying giants menacingly threaten to fall on our home yet again.

I feel safer in the sturdy Iceland woods where trees are no taller than houses and underbrush is soft fallen fir needles. I know they need trees and are re-planting their land, but I most love the vastness their absence provides.

In the woods, I walk on soft muffled paths. I come upon a clearing where someone has built a gazebo and a swing, so inviting, so friendly.


Too chilly to swing, I continue on, meeting no one, until my yearning to see the sky overcomes my need to be cossetted in this dark quiet space. I climb a bright hill to a point where a large wooden creature greets me. I stand nose to nose, examining the grains of wood in its massive eyes. I ask it to share its wisdom which I absorb wordlessly.

Satisfied, I notice a clearing on the next hill and tromp through the ankle-deep snow to reach it.
















Poles of varying heights rise from the ground, apparently with purpose. I walk among them, count, mentally measure, and decide it's an Icelandic Stonehenge - sundial, season-marker, year-tally-er. I photograph it with the sun shining through it and striking it. I calculate the time: 11:30 or thereabouts. There's no daylight savings time in Iceland so no chance it's an hour later or earlier.

I begin to feel hungry so I turn away from the sundial and head elsewhere.















My wanderings lead me to a fallow field and a fence, easily breechable. A greenhouse complex is on the other side, huge hoses, dried decaying plant matter, steamy but empty greenhouses. I worry I'll be chased away, but I see no one as I traipse along the gravel paths over pipes and hoses, around piles and barrels, until I find the forest path again.

I hear before I see toddlers playing in another playground as their parents chat. I walk by, head ducked, wanting to be invisible. Please don't interrupt my solitude, my communion with Nature, my attempts to find the glorious.

The snow plow is hard at work when I return to my car but has thankfully left me space to leave. I pull out of the lot and consider where to turn - down the lane towards the greenhouses or back to the road from whence I came? I am filled with gratitude to have such a choice - no obligations calling me back, just freedom giving me any option I could dream up.

I feel a faint whiff of the grief and loneliness of the night before. It drifts across my consciousness like a cloud on a breezy day. As it disperses, I am surprised to notice that in its wake is joy. Freedom. Solidity. Courage. Contentment. Choice.

Once on the road, I turn away from town, ready to explore, trusting that all I need to know will be revealed.

#46 completed. Pregnant Nude created with 1000's of gel pen marks

I think I have finished this piece. 

Life Coming Through Her
Gel Pen on Paper
13"x20"
$850 unframed

            

A friend looked at this image yesterday, looked at me quizically and challenged, "Susan, this seems like an anti-abortion piece." I didn't know how to respond.  I am not against abortion. I am deeply in favor of a woman's right to choose what is right for her. And I am deeply in love with pregnancy and birth and babies, and especially with my own precious children.  I am very thankful I never had to decide whether to have an abortion or not. And I am equally thankfully that some of my friends did have that option and were able to take it and save the arch of their lives and that of their unborn children from the chaos and suffering that would have ensued had the children come into this world.

To me, this piece is about the sanctity of life. Absolutely. The woman portrayed in this piece chose to become pregnant and was deeply happy to be carrying her child. It was the right thing for her at the right time in her life (at least as far as I know based on the conversations we had. I can't begin to assert I know everything in her heart or mind!) My intention with this piece is to portray a beautiful woman at one of the most beautiful times of her life as she prayerfully considers her unborn child. It evokes for me that time in my own life when I felt my children inside my womb, when my body was a vessel for their body and their spirit. This piece feels very calm and centered, as I felt when creating it. The repetition of the marks created a calmness in me that gave rise to contemplation and quiet joy.

But a posterchild for anti-abortion?  No.

An image of the sanctity of life. Yes.

I think most people could agree that life is sacred and that giving birth to a wanted child is one of the most sacred acts a person can do. The grey area comes, I think, from other situations - ones where the child is not wanted, or the woman can't care for the child and lives in fear and poverty with it, or the child is a product of rape or coercion - then what?

I don't have the answer. I wish we could find common ground here, though, for the conversation. It's complicated. Complex. There is no simple answer. The moral complexities are daunting. Each person will have personal experiences which inform their responses/reactions. How different our country could be if we could sit with each other and confer with gentle curiosity and a desire to learn from each other about these difficult questions - with compassion for the challenges and difficulties, with awareness and respect for the blessing that each child can be, with a willingness to hear many different facets of a situation. When we know a person's story and understand their motivations and challenges, it becomes so much more difficult to judge them. 

Can you begin to imagine a world where life is sacred, and each life is honored, and women are trusted to make decisions for themselves and their unborn children? It is SO complex to even try to imagine it - it feels risky to even ask the question!

The beginning. I saw an image in National
Geographic which wouldn't leave me alone, so
I decided to include it in the piece.
My attempt here was to create marks which
would create a sense of volume around the belly.

The marks I made on the left to create
a sense of depth and darness weren't
dark enough because gel pens don't
come in very dark values!  I used
ink here to deepen the value contrast.

Working to fill the page with marks. I
wanted to have the marks indicate the
volume of each bady part.

By this point, it was painfully
obvious to me that the dark was much too
dark and contrasted too strongly with
the rest of the piece. But I liked the breasts
and hands.

I lightened the darks by putting blue into
them so they weren't so dominant.

I strengthened the lights so they stood out more and increased some of the depth,
refined what I could. It is now finally reading as I want it to and feels like I've said
what I wanted to say with it: the pregnant body is gorgeous. Life is sacred. 

And Life Flows In (#50)

Continued from the previous blog...

Awakening from the deep sleep that exhausted grief confers, I blew my nose to loosen the snot from tears still stuck. I got up to pee. The studio was lit by the skylights, dim in the mid morning late winter light. Curious, I returned to the scene of my pain. I touched the rough weave of the sofa - had I truly despaired so thoroughly just hours before?

I ran my fingers along the edge of my pastel paintings, wiped the dust on my pajama bottoms.

The kitchen beckoned. I couldn't stand the sound of the blender for a smoothie - I craved stillness where my Self could reverberate in the emptiness left after the feelings finally escaped.

Slowly I cut a slice of bread off the loaf. Waited, still, while it toasted. Took it out gingerly, not wanting the excess heat to burn my fingers. Butter, jam. A hard boiled egg's jiggle against the pan was too much activity so I settled for just bread and water.

The sounds of studded tires on icy cobblestone road accompanied by the Cathedral's quarter hourly chimes stirred me up too much.

I dressed warmly and drove to the forest outside of town. I parked in a small lot that had been plowed and took my camera for companionship. It was a bright blue sky day with fresh snow glaring all around. The crunch of icy snow underfoot made me watch my step when I wasn't awakening to the beauty all around me. As I awoke to the trees, the sky, the snow, the freshness, my emptiness was filling with life.

To be continued...