“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!
Moth Trellis- An original pattern design in progress which nods to fall and Halloween.
A spot of black, a darkly shadowed fringe lurking at the edge, an irregular recess in the luminous folds, these are the unsung marks that take a visual image from good to stunning. The hint of the unknown amidst the plainly visible lures in the viewer and burns its image on the retina. Artists refer to this as tonality- and when it is missing, the image feels flat. But when the artist deftly adds the deepest of shadows in the most carefully considered manner, the image comes to life- no matter how fantastical.
One afternoon while dropping inky pools of black into the edges, I considered that life is not much different. Life without shadow would become bland, and dare I venture to assume, under-appreciated. Like pigment on the page, it comes to life through balance. Do not confuse balance with equality. Think back to younger years and the rhythmic exchange of the seesaw. The “teeter totter” did not require two equally weighted children. With a gentle push two mismatched participants could see-saw with abandon. But take one away and gravity wins.
Such heavy lessons to find in the quiet rumination of painterly endeavors. But heavy lessons are valuable even in the comfort of our happiness. How often have I lost my sense of wonderment and gratitude in the flat planes of comfort? Just recently I found myself complaining about the shifting seasons- the dark mornings, the cloud filled sky, the breezes touched with the hint of chill. I wondered what would propel me out of bed in the cold dark mornings of winter and what would inspire my brushstrokes. And as I sought to place the darkest shadows on my page, I realized that art was teaching me to appreciate everything in balance. I need the change of seasons to appreciate the beauty in each one. And I need the failures as much as I need the small victories.
This print and other items with this pattern can be purchased through Society6. You can access Society6 through my main menu. When you visit the shop, please Follow. It helps artists like me be seen.
I just moved my first born to college last week. It’s an emotional milestone, one every parent dreams of and dreads. If I have done my job right, she will flourish and maybe even resent coming home during the summer months. That thought alone frightens me and breaks my heart. I cannot escape the knowledge that my role (and to some degree, identity) as a parent has altered irrevocably. If I am honest, the past few months I have seen very little of my daughter. She spent three months (or more, thanks to COVID) cramming in as much time with her friends as possible. So a house without her was nearly normal by the time Aug 13 rolled around. But the loss of the POTENTIAL interaction saddens me. I no longer entertain the notions we might cook together, shop together, or share the random hug.
I spent the morning in a motherly fluster- much like a pregnant woman who is said to “ready the nest” right before the arrival of a baby- but in reverse. Mine is gone and I set to work scrubbing floors, scouring the grooves in the cupboard doors with a toothbrush, and all-around looking busy. I say looking busy, because when I stopped to breathe I had made so little progress!
The house may be a disaster, but I am in a creative whirlwind of sorts- okay, maybe just a little whirl. But I have so many ideas working and I want to put my fingers into so many projects! I am continuing to create designs for my Society6 shop and am in the middle of two surface pattern design collections. Yes, two. Because I have a hard time finishing things! I get distracted by some new shiny thing and off I go. I watercolor in the cool morning air before the family gets up. (You can see my watercolor meditations on my Instagram feed.) But the allure of acrylics and oils and larger projects beckons. Perhaps with the changing seasons, when it is no longer comfortable to sit in the path of the rising sun, I will return to my hidden corner at the top of the house and spread out the tubes of creamy acrylics.
Today I share with you a cheerful print I made in tandem with one of my pattern collections. This began with a humble bee painted with carbon ink and a bamboo calligraphy brush. Then I scanned it and opened it in Illustrator to create an infinitely repeating and scalable pattern. After that I styled the text for the affirmation- but I will be using the pattern without text for most applications. What do you think? Feedback is always welcome!
Have a great week! Be bold. Be Beautiful. Be Yourself!
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.
