On October 21, I opened the door to a large white elephant, who now stands in my studio space- long trunk curled delicately around my nib pen and newly inked freckles splashed across his face. I resented his intrusion at first, but after a lengthy conversation- we found we see eye to eye (as long as I am standing on a step-stool!)
There are ONLY seven days in a week- but I skipped THREE prompts this week. There! I said it. That is NOT to say I didn’t create everyday; I did. Nevertheless, sharp pangs of guilt and resentment- resentment at the “things” that got in my way and perhaps a little resentment at the prompts themselves- pricked millions of little holes in my happiness. So, I took a tiny bit of time to think about my priorities in life and art.
Over a cup of chamomile tea and a handful of peanuts, my guest helped me realize blindly following a random list of words was not the way to reach my goals, honor my intentions, or guide my day. That might sound like I just wrote off the whole idea of Inktober. Nope. Quite the contrary!
The spirit of the challenge is the key- not the prompt list I choose. The opportunity to share my work with others and see their work during this lovefest of a month provides momentum, encouragement, and support. It’s up to me to honor my intentions and respect my authenticity. And if that means I miss a few prompts, then so be it.
I had so much fun creating all the images presented here. Too much fun! I hope you enjoy them. And remember, I will give away one 8×10 print of an Inktober artwork in November. To win, subscribe to this blog and leave a comment. Each comment is an entry- so if this is your first time, I hope you will visit previous posts.
“Best thing since sliced bread!”- or in my case, cold cuts! Why do I overlook the humble cold cut sandwich for dinner? No stove, no oven, no dishes, no worries! And that means more time to make art. And goodness knows I need as much time as I can get this month. The first week has been a whirlwind-
I have experienced so much in the first week of Inktober that I know October 31 will find me much improved. And the promise of growth motivates me to keep going! Many experienced artists advise new Inktober participants to be easy on themselves, plan projects that work within their time constraints, and don’t fret missing a day. Well- that’s not me. To play with Eliot’s immortal words, if I goof up this Inktober, I will “go out with a bang- not a whimper!”
To that end- each and every composition I have created this week relies on a calligraphy brush. Not a marker, or fineliner, or even a nib. I am familiarizing myself with a few calligraphy brushes. I have added color with watercolor and photoshop when I could do so within the 24 hour deadline. But pushing to finish a piece so quickly leaves me feeling as though I could have done better. So, I have decided this month I will accrue a number of inked pieces which I can color later.
Each prompt includes the potential for surprise- and sometimes I need to remind myself of this. In the final days of September I created thumbnail sketches for a few of my favorite prompts. but other prompts caught me unaware and unprepared. Potted plant was one of those- and I surprised myself by creating two inked line drawings! Bird nest was one of my quick idea sketches and I executed it late one evening. The end result was “cute”- not my usual style. I hastily filmed a reel and posted to Pinterest. SURPRISE! Eighteen hours later I had over 2,000 views and a “like” from Ohn Mar Win. OMG! I didn’t see that coming!
So, now a surprise for you. I plan to give away one print from one of my Inktober drawings when Inktober is complete. How to enter? First- subscribe to this blog. Be sure to confirm your subscription. Then, simply respond to this post with a comment about one of my Inktober drawings. I will enter your name in the drawing. The winner will receive an 8×10 print. (If the winner resides outside of the continental United States, I will send a small mini-print instead.)
Enjoy the show! I’m off to stock up on cold cuts and sliced bread!
The puddle glistened, spilling forth quickly at first, tumbling over itself to find the edge, then slowly its advancement slowed to a mere creep- fiber by fiber extending its territory with feathered fingers.
No, not a crime scene, an ink scene. And when I look up from the page, brush in hand, the soot colored evidence stains my fingertips.
For the month of October, I am embarking on a new challenge- Inktober. Inktober is a call to commit- a challenge millions of artists around the world accept each October. Inktober has humble beginnings but gathered followers quickly. What began as a centralized challenge with a single prompt list has morphed into uncounted prompt lists designed to fill a niche and find an audience.
In years past I have spectated. Sometimes I attempted a prompt or two. This year, I intend to join the “fun”. Like all true challenges, the new wears off. The drudgery, the exhaustion, and life itself will make fulfilling the commitment difficult. I must be honest- my track record for “challenges successfully met” these days hasn’t been great. Weight loss? Ha! Long forgotten. Regular physical activity? Does refilling the water jar count? Keeping the kitchen counters cleared. What kitchen counters? You see where I am going with this.
So, I am asking you- entreating you even- to hold me accountable. Leave some feedback when you like something. HOLLER at me if I seem to have “ghosted” the project.
And if you are a fellow mark maker looking for a cheering section – hit me up. Tag me on Instagram or share your work with me here. I love to cheer!
The larger-than-life hookah-smoking caterpillar interrogated the bewildered Alice who had stumbled into the most curious of gardens. Often, in my own wild garden, Iam the inquisitor, peering more deeply into the green foliage curtain to scrutinize an unfamiliar visitor. New faces prompt me to ask, “Who are you?” And even more significantly, “Who will you become?” Recently while picking through the greens in my garden, I was startled by a great hairy presence- the likes of which I had never seen. I ran inside to retrieve a ruler; I wanted to thoroughly document my latest discovery! Fully 3 inches long and as thick as one of my fingers, the little beast was making quick work of a sorrel leaf. A hasty Google search provided a possible identity- but I wasn’t entirely convinced. The best step forward seemed to be detaining the creature- so I placed him (or her?) in a plastic tub with some leaves and a piece of netting. I wanted my family to see this marvelous creature.
The family also performed a Google search and we concurred. This was a Salt Marsh moth caterpillar. Never mind that there are NO salt marshes anywhere near Tulsa, Oklahoma. The moth is attractive, but a little disappointing in the size department. I just assumed a caterpillar this large would produce a moth large enough to charter for trans-Atlantic flights. Nevertheless, I gave the caterpillar a pass.
This is not the first garden guest I have sought to keep and protect. Unlike other Oklahoma gardeners, I look forward to discovering a horn worm amongst my tomatoes. I am not always lucky enough to host one, but when I am, they have a special place in my garden. I have seen them decimate a plant, and so I am prepared to sacrifice a plant each year. These chartreuse anamorphic fellows with their chubby legs transform into hummingbird moths- a creature that has enchanted me since youth.
I love tending to the “humanity” of my garden. The plants bring happiness but I find utter joy in witnessing those plants provide for the creatures who live here. I watch the cardinals alight on the trellises then dive into the green masses in search of bugs. I spy on shy lizards in the undergrowth and the vulnerable tree frogs clinging to leaves. New insects frequently lead to new investigations- who are you? who will you become?
These are the same questions I ponder when I gaze at my children. “Who are you? Who will you become?” I ask myself nearly daily- “Who are you? Who will you become?” and in these turbulent days of pandemic and social awakening the significance of these questions becomes all the more apparent. These are the questions we should all be asking ourselves. The Salt Marsh Caterpillar and the adventurous young Alice have much to teach us.
