Printing Progress.

Block print. LDPE block, Speedball ink (elderly), generic printer paper.

My studio is gradually filling with prints. Some are much more interesting than others. This is one that I made yesterday, and love. This may be the first one that I have had little interest in re-working the block after seeing the print. I really do need to try some new ink, though. What I have seems to be almost totally lacking in whatever keeps it workable. Gum arabic? Water? Magic beans? No idea. The New Ink Smell has escaped.

... on the bright side, Akua water soluble intaglio ink actually makes pretty good block prints. Sadly, I only have black at the moment. And at $20 / pot, it is likely to remain that way for a while.

In a totally other direction, el Jefe suggests that things like this would make fantastic stained glass panels. In fact, I think he is right, and I will see about revising this into a glass pattern ... in my free time.

Finally Admitting to 2013

Maybe I was just really disappointed that the world did not end back in December? Maybe I just Have A Problem with winter? Probably we will never know why there has been no blogging for three months, although most likely the fact that I find the term 'blogging' fairly distasteful, something I am supposed to do when I am not feeling well.

Oh, jeeze, I think I'm gonna blog..!

ANYWAY, there are a few haps happening.

Exhibit 1A: A Silly Afghan

This is a work in progress, and although I expect it to become considerably larger, it is unlikely that it will get any less silly. Probably more so, if I had to guess.

Exhibits 2A, 2B, 2C, 2D: These Flowers

Regular Kind Watercolor

Watercolor Pencils

Still Life of Cut Flowers And Fruit Which Keeps Getting Eaten

Sketched with 4B .05mm mechanical pencil. Ask me about my Kuru Toga!

 I decided to work more on my life drawing skills, and last week picked up a cheap model at the hippie grocery store. (The flowers, I mean, what were YOU thinking??) I also have gotten much better about taking my sketchbook with me and sketching people and things and places when I am out in the world with a few minutes to spare. I often get busted drawing people, especially in restaurants, because I am the type to look at the subject a lot and the paper very little. Eventually I'll share some of my public sketching practice, but the pictures are all you get for now.

I also joined a newly formed Urban Sketchers group here in town. I have only made it to one of their meetings so far, but I think I will get to more of them as the weather for hanging around outside becomes more enticing. In two weeks, we're planning to meet up at the central transit center in town, should be interesting.

Also working on getting studio space in order in the garage. I think I'll need to start with electricity and insulation, and then ventilation, and then furniture. Currently I am using some large cardboard boxes as a make-shift workbench, and running an extension cord from the laundry room whenever I need juice. Of course, working in the garage is another thing that becomes more interesting as the weather improves, because that space is not heated. Signed up for some studio hours at the university metal studio, but have done very little there, so far. Ideas are pouring out my ears, but my time and their availability hasn't lined up so well, so far. I think that will change this week.

Enh, what else is going on?

Went to a lovely show at the Albuquerque Museum, Deco Japan. The link I'm giving is for someone else's exhibition of this show, which is a traveling exhibit. It maybe will come to you, unless it already came past you. If you're a big fan of deco style graphics and prints, the show has a tremendous collection of magazine covers, matchbook covers, songbook covers, posters, and adverts. If you're more into the functional and 3D stuff, they had some fairly nifty containers, screens, kimonos, and smallish sculptures. My personal favorites were the flying fish themed items. A quick image search on 'deco japan' will get you a pretty solid idea of what's out there.

Did a wee bit of gallery-crawling this past week. Revisited my fixation on Travis Black's watercolor images of birds. Was gifted a lovely print of one of the hummingbird images by someone awesome. (Squee!!) Failed to get into the local artist quonset hut, but I will. Now that I know they close at 3pm. (Who does that??) Tripped over work by printer / painter Diana Stetson, who has some extremely harmonious work. Definitely nature-oriented, but it is actually the compositions and executions which are harmonious to me. There were plenty of other interesting works to see in the world, and Mariposa Gallery in Nob Hill had quite a few. In addition to Diana Stetson and some other intriguing artists, Mariposa also currently has an exhibit hanging from Amanda Banker, who seems to have a bit of a fixation with animal-headed portrait figures. That show is worth it if only for the smoking-jacket three quarter posed octopus headed portrait. (Which does not appear on her website, by the way, so if you want to see it, you need to go there and see it!)

Is that all? Well, it has to be enough for now, I suppose. There will be more posts on all these topics, I suspect. Probably the next exciting thing is going to be a mechanical pencil review. If that doesn't strike you as exciting, this probably isn't the blog for you.

new toy!

I tried a smallish, probably too-complicated design with my shiny new pack of Pentel Fabric Fun wax dye sticks. It's like a pastel that can be used on fabric, and set into the fiber with a hot iron.

Predictably, they are inclined to be a little muddy in application, especially as they are *very* soft, and can't hold a point at all. So... any amount of precision I want has to be attainable with a tip the size of a pencil eraser. On the other hand, it sets REALLY fast, almost unbelievably fast, and does not bleed at all. And blending is pretty easy.

I tried to make transfers a couple of different ways, but it seems to resist that very capably. I suspect it sort of collapses on itself when it gets heated, so instead of transferring, I just ended up with a few little pills of color and a largely-unmarked cloth. Ahh, well. Will be working with shielding when I am ready to try again. Probably need to put the colors first and the black on top, which is the opposite of how I normally work.

Finished that Box!

There is not much to say about this, except... here are the pictures of the finished box. I took one from each corner, so you could see how the pattern lines up. This is the size box for storing an adult male Maine Coon cat, apparently.
I probably won't do another box with exactly this design, but I did learn lots of useful stuff I can apply to my next box (there are 3 more to paint, so lessons learned are good things).
I probably would have preferred to paint the corner hardware black, for instance, but I wasn't sure what to paint galvanized metal with, and the handle hardware was pre-attached, so it seemed like a lot of hassle. And I got to a point where I really just wanted to get it FINISHED instead of having it hanging around my workspace any more. But maybe next time I will think it is worth the hassle.
I have not yet put any little roller wheels on this, and I haven't worked out a lid for it. Heck, I don't even know what I want to store in it yet! I did put a bunch of couch cushions in it when I vacuumed last, and the giant ridiculous cat has been pretty conscientious about moving all of his toys from where they are stored, into this box. So I think it will be pretty functional around here. And I like it! I probably will wish I'd put another coat of a sturdier sealer on it, and I might do that later, including the inside. Or I might leave this one alone and subject my next project to all that hard earned wisdom...

Juxtapoz saves the day!

I was poking around the bookstore this morning, looking for something to improve my mood and restore my faith in the goodness of humanity. And, there it was! A Kehinde Wiley painting on the cover of Juxtapoz.

I believe I've spouted about both Juxtapoz magazine (my favorite art mag), and Kehinde Wiley (a kickass painter who combines concept and technique to come up with some incredible portraits). But, if you somehow missed that, here is another round.

It is not my way to say "Go buy this thing," but in this case, I'd say this issue of Juxtapoz would be a good investment. Juxtapoz has connected me with some artists I'm really drawn to, who have become part of my set of influences. Mark Ryden, Stanislav Szukalski, Kris Kuksi, Brandon Bird (I think? Can't prove it), and many others.

In any case, even if you don't care for Kehinde Wiley or Juxtapoz, I guaranteed you know someone who does. Buy the issue, and keep it on your coffee table, on your bookshelf, or in your guest bathroom. You will soon learn who among your friends has great taste in contemporary art.

Take 2.

Artist Betsabeé Romero carves tires (among other auto-related art and installations). Some of the tires get inked and leave a pattern print, which is very, very nifty. Do a Google image search on her name--that's what the last link was, but it expired or something. Her actual web site seems to be out of commission at the moment; I'm guessing this picture or others like it are what brought it down. A-frickin'-mazing stuff.

Souvenirs of a Gallery Visit

I might be making this up, but I think I saw all three of these pieces in the Leopold Museum in Vienna, in November. In any case, I was sufficiently impressed to write their names down, and I found that piece of paper today, and looked up their art, and still dig it.

This first one on the left is by Albert Birkle, 1900-1986. (There is a Wiki entry for him, but it's only in German. Let me know if you want more info from that.) An image search on his name will get you plenty of hits, but this is the one that really worked for me, Mann mit Pelzmütze (Mein Bruder Tier) -- Man with Fur Hat (My Brother Animal). I think I spent about 10 minutes staring at it. Not in the staring contest way, but just digging it. This is the kind of portraiture I like. Technically, it's probably cariacature, but for all I know, this guy really looks this way. I kinda hope so.


If you look out the right side of the aircraft, you'll see a still image from a performance by Lisa Bufano, photographed by Gerhard Aba. The work was entitled Charme des Makels (the Appeal of Imperfection). Bufano makes good use of aethetic movement (like dance, or swimming) and prosthetics to create fascinating work. Her web site has lots of good stuff, including some videos.

I know some people are going to be transfixed by this image by the "wait, is she an amputee??" factor. Personally, I'm transfixed by it because it is so elegant. The juxtaposition of body and furniture strikes me as full of grace, even though furniture and human bodies are completely in the realm of mundane everyday-ness. If her artist statement is anything to go on, Bufano herself may be somewhat struck by the freak factor, so it probably all works out in the end.

This last image is a collage from Rudolf Wacker, 1893-1939. It didn't stand out for me because of the aesthetics, but because it's so harsh. It's hard edged and very critical-seeming.

From my scribbled museum notes, I gather this is a portrait of someone the artist actually knew. It's not flattering, but I think it probably reflects very much on what the artist thought of this woman, and not so much on what she actually looked like.

The overall impression I get is, this is a woman he was afraid of, but also fascinated by. It's almost symbolic, as if he just free-associated a list of things he connected with Mrs. Klimesch, and then glued them all down on the page together.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to staring at the man with the fur hat. I think he wants to tell me something...

The Heartbreak of Post Modernism

Last Saturday, I went to the local museum of contemporary art here in town, for a show on biomorphic forms in sculpture. This is right up my alley, if I had to choose one tidy phrase to describe my own sculpture, it could be that. As far as I can tell, the Kunsthaus Graz is generally regarded as a fine example of contemporary art exhibition - lots of group shows on interesting themes, a center just for Austrian photography, emphasis on mixed media and integration of electronic arts exhibits, and so on. Well curated, well documented (pamphlets and artist statements and all that). Presumably this means they are experts in their field, and when I go there I am visiting a shrine to St. Luke, holy ground, consecrated to the higher realms of capital-A-Art.

So.... why is it that every goddamn time I go to an exhibit of contemporary art, I come out angry? Am I not achieving the necessary enlightenment? Am I really so ignorant of what makes art good, in the sense of being worthy of my regard?

There's an argument that suggests that modern art is egalitarian. It's there for everyone, and so by extension, we can see that it's not there for ME (that would be elitism, you see). But I don't buy that. I am part of everyone, and if I am continually repelled by what's selected as an example of Art... there may be something amiss in the selection criteria.

One thing that really baffles me is that I can't for the life of me figure out what the selection criteria are. The selection isn't necessarily about quality of craftsmanship. It's not obviously about Concept. They have themes, so there's a vague sense of unity, but surely they don't simple accept the first 30 artists who have a good story about how their work connects to the appointed theme? Or maybe that IS the case.

Maybe I should just start submitting things to museums when they open calls for shows. I am persistently plagued by the belief that this is more about who you know than what you've got to show, but I could be fooling myself. Maybe I should sew breasts on a bath towel and start shopping it around to contemporary galleries, as Louise Bourgeous has apparently done.

Copyright: Infringed!

You Thought We Wouldn't Notice offers a good venue for folks who have been ripped off. Maybe you can't afford to sue them, but you can seriously increase the chance of them being embarrassed publicly. Especially if you plaster the internet with links to the write up when you're done.

Various/Sundry

In no particular order.

The Gabriel García Marquez excerpt, from One Hundred Years of Solitude, that I mentioned last week:

Don't talk to me about politics," the colonel would tell him. "Our business is selling little fishes." The rumor that he did not want to hear anything about the situation in the country because he was growing rich in his workshop make Ursula laugh when it reached her ears. With her terrible practical sense she could not understand the colonel's business as he exchanged little fishes for gold coins and then converted the coins into little fishes, and so on, with the result that he had to work all the harder with the more he sold in order to satisfy an exasperating vicious circle. Actually, what interested him was not the business but the work. He needed so much concentration to link scales, fit minute rubies into the eyes, laminate gills, and put on fins that there was not the smallest empty moment left for him to fill with his disillusionment of the war.

That's more or less exactly the relationship that I'd like to have with things I make. It would keep me fully occupied, so that life's annoyances could be held at bay. And, ideally, people would pay me directly with art supplies. All the better if it's pure gold!

Next: Go and see about Brandon Bird's art. He's *awesome*. In my opinion, his obsession with Christopher Walken only makes it better. Also, the Last Supper was, in fact, in desperate need of a good RoboCop. There's a good chance you'll recognize at least one or two of them, the one with David Hasselhoff and the cuttlefish has been around. The Law & Order coloring book and greeting cards, and Nobody Wants To Play Sega with Harrison Ford are some of my favorites. Also, Blood Sport would've been a much better film had it in fact starred Abraham Lincoln. There is a line drawing of the mythical, mystical creature known as the Wooly Norris, as well. Any time spent roaming around Bird's galleries is time well spent!

Next: Mr. Man took me over to the super-mega-god-shops-here art supply today for birthday goodies, and I got all manner of frivolous, silly stuff. Scented purple writing ink. (It was that or the invisible ink, but to be honest, most of my handwritten letters go to my 86 year old grandmother, who probably already has enough trouble reading my letters.) Copper flake brush ink. A nice smoke grey fountain ink in a fetishy little tin. I also picked up some starter materials for sculpting, and I'm itching to get back into some 3D work. So, hopefully you will see some of that here soon.

Finally, check out Little Robot, a Glasgow based paper/low relief artist whose work I first encountered on Etsy. I really dig her use of twilight color schemes, and the way anyone can have a beard, even a lady. Especially a lady. I think some of those gentlemen are ladies, anyway.

If you think of art as a bunch of cats, this is where René Lalique's Persian got over with Mark Ryden's moggy. Very stylish and nostalgic, but not in the maudlin way.



Of course, sensible people probably don't think of art as a bunch of cats. But I wasn't going to point fingers.

Two Books I Finished Last Night

Last night, I read the last page of Gefährliche Geliebt, the German translation of Haruki Murakami's 7th novel, in English titled South of the Border, West of the Sun, and closed the book with satisfaction. I like it so much that I have read it before, and I don't doubt I'll read it again. However, I don't see any reason to summarize it here. If you're looking for a compelling read, go and get this book. It's sad, at times almost unbearably so, but it will almost surely make you feel better about your own life.

The other book I finished last night is Daniel Gilbert's Stumbling on Happiness. It's kind of the non-fiction version of the Murakami's thesis: a point by point rebuttal of the idea that happiness is attainable. Gilbert has assembled an astonishingly well-referenced theory about why it's so hard for people to plan themselves into a future they are satisfied with. He talks about the odd behaviors people consistently have, that always seem like a good idea at the time, but ultimately lead to dissatisfaction. Some of these are very interesting, such as the inability people apparently have, to correctly gauge their own reactions to events, and some intriguing examples of the long term effects of the notoriously inaccurate human memory.

This isn't a self-help book; it's not about How To Be Happy. This is simply an analysis of why it sometimes seems so freaking hard to be happy, no matter how much time you spend on it. The conclusion I have come to is that this undermining behavior is probably for the best. Dissatisfaction keeps us going, it gives us something to do after the thing we're doing now. And, besides that, actually being happy seems to be more a matter of actually noticing when that's going on, than it is about planning or execution of plans.

I do recommend this book if you're the kind of person who has wondered what the hell everyone's problem is, and why it's SO hard to just be content. This isn't necessarily the whole story, but it certainly is an interesting and fairly well-written part of it. My only complaint is that there were more than a few moments where I read a sentence or two, and thought, "My god, you ARE a smarmy bastard, aren't you?" I have nothing against smarmy bastards, of course, but when I'm reading a book, I'd rather be engaged with the book than the author, if you see what I mean.