Sometimes you just have to take a break from worry. And angst. And the sense that the world is degenerating into a chaotic mess. No amount of hopeful TED talks give solace.
This week I retreated into this make believe. Just some goofy guys. A nine patch of alternate realities.
Rock on.
Minds are maps of experiences. Inspirations abound. I may need to upgrade my storage space.
The muscular structure of this fig branch needs one of those overtures with heroic drums as a background tune.
I'm working on a piece that I have temporarily named Inspirations. I may call it something else once it is finished. Right now I am trying to find a different way of mounting it. I love these fringe-y edges but can't figure out how to preserve them yet.
Thank you Piet, Pablo, William, Paul, Vasily, Theodore, Alexander, the bees, trees, birds and my grandchildren
Sometimes I feel like the band is calling for last dance and I am pleading with them to turn the clock back.
The final resting sequence in yoga yesterday brought unsolicited thoughts that were inspirational. But then I forgot to write them down and they disappeared like swallows. Dang, I lost them again. It was something about catching details in the maelstrom. Luring the unknown into the known.
Dreams do that too. They inspire, excite, titillate and awe and then tease, vanish and echo in waking moments. Like trying to grasp a fish in a river—slippery little devils. I want to capture and release them into my art.
I'm reading a book by Brian Doyle called Mink. In it he uses quotes from William Blake poems in a way that brings the mundane into the spiritual. One that has stuck with me since I read it: Everything has its own vortex.
Memory breathes the air of influences. Those little signposts that we log into our catalog of thoughts can often link in disconcerting ways. That flower rising up early this Spring? my mother's death. That song on the radio? an embarrassing adolescent moment. That image of the cat in the hat tipping his striped hat? The joy of rhyme and rhythm.
One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. Oh how we rhyme with so little time.
Work in progress on Catalysts, Paula Kovarik
Continuing my work with children's drawings and abstract backgrounds.
A before photo of the environment created for the drawings. The pieced fabric is composed of random scraps of solid colored fabrics. The striations of black stitching across the piece are based on stitching a straight line at every intersection of two fabrics. This black on black texture is hard to see in this shot. The piece is about 17 inches square.
An after shot: where the drawings populate the surface with mystery. That pointy headed smiling guy in the lower right corner was drawn by the very talented Jeremy. Thanks, Jeremy, for your contribution to my art. The piece will be called Don't Go in the Basement.
My talented niece Vivi drew me a castle on an island while she was here on a sleep over. I spent the past couple of hours playing with it and came up with this pattern. It really made my afternoon happy.
Vivi's castle (redrawn)
castle pattern, ©2011, Vivi
