Trade Days

I love things, especially the ones that have somehow lost their purpose or function. Like this brave little hedgehog in knickerbockers that didn't have his arms anymore when I got it. Or this old notebook that I found with most of its pages stuck together so that the few readable entries leave you with a wonderful peculiar story.

Needless to say that I love going to places where I may find such marvellous items. So today we all went to the "Big Creek Trade Days" in a nearby little town. It was successful in many ways, as it was a beautiful sunny not too hot day, and I found a colander-like aluminum object that probably came from some old appliance, and a bonsai to replace my daughter's tiny tree that I had forgotten to water one time too many.

The most wonderful trade, however, had nothing to do with those Trade Days but happened yesterday in a local coffee shop where I met Peter Jones for an exchange. Peter Jones is such a fantastic painter and photographer, and I admire his work very much in particular because of its exceptional storytelling qualities that just speak to me. He made a beautiful print of his recent "Self Portrait, Highway 61 outside of Baton Rouge" for me, and, in return, he asked for my "Portals." I am thrilled! And honored. Thank you, Peter.

Undo

I am working on a sculpture. In my mind, I have been working on this for a long time. I am making my birth father who I never met. He got his eyes already, looking at me, or maybe he is not looking at me or anywhere. Maybe it's not him at all, maybe I am making myself. I hope it will turn out okay. I will call it "Undo."

My plan is to enter it in an upcoming exhibition. I hope I will make it in time.

En Plein Air

My son Jacob said this afternoon that he prefers to stay inside because it was the safer place compared to the outdoors. He said that after we all had gone out for a long walk through our beautiful woodsy neighborhood. Back home I found a tick on my daughter's blouse. I shook it off into the bathroom sink, and we looked at it with disgust through a magnifying glass for a while. Jacob had three tick bites already, and the removals were always tricky and not funny, at least not for him. He was grossed out watching the tick in the sink. I tried to kill it by squeezing it with a paper towel, and then by smashing it with a rock. This tick wouldn't give up though, it was stubborn or invincible. So I pushed it into a snack bag, I stepped on it, jumped on it, and threw it into the kitchen trash. A few hours later, we pulled the snack bag out again from between wet coffee grounds and eggshells, just to find that the tick still was a happy little camper. 

Anyways - this kind of reminded me of the En Plein Air painting event that took place about six weeks ago in all Louisiana Cultural districts. Artists were asked to come out, put a straw hat on, and paint outdoors in a cultural district of their choice. That was something I haven't done before, so I thought, why shouldn't I. Especially since my daughter Mona was determined to do it, too. 

I did an oil pastel of the main railroad crossing. It's not quite finished,
especially the front needs work. I hope I will get to it soon.

And my daughter's take. She pointed out that I left out the traffic lights
and the McDonald's sign. And the bird that was sitting on the power cord for a while.

Back to Life

A few weeks ago, I did a little art project with the young party guests of my daughter Mona who just turned 8. At the end of the party, one of the moms, who came to pick up their children, said, oh wow, this is terrific, you should have a blog to post all the art things you are making and doing. Yes, I should, shouldn't I?

Good thing, I have a blog already. But I haven't posted anything for a while, I guess I was just lazy or forgetful. That shall change, especially since so many art things are happening in my life right now, and it is getting even more exciting by the day. In short: I have been trying to evolve as an artist and establish myself, and things seem to work out nicely. I am going to try to post daily from now on, especially since I had my blog address printed on my beautiful new business cards.

My kids' screen owls plus my sample (top right).
I think, I will attach them to a tree trunk. They look quite nice against bark.

Okay, so this is the little art project from Mona's party I have mentioned earlier. I came up with this screen owl because, especially for kids, I like to design projects that involve a variety of interesting materials, that require different hand movements and tools, and that always turn out wonderful. And Mona loves owls and so do many of her friends, therefore an owl project seemed to be perfect. I am glad that I have so many odd supplies in my studio, where I found everything that I needed: window screen scraps, wires and pipe cleaners, some copper foil, empty soda cans and embossing tools, lots of old and new buttons, triangular beads, hair clips, and sun-bleached twigs that I had picked up in Arizona when we went on a family road trip to the Grand Canyon four years ago.

Don't Worry Baby

"Don't Worry Baby" is my contribution for the 2017 "Art on 45." I was intrigued by the wave design of the paper label and decided to make it the theme of my piece. I layered portions of the edges of yellowed book pages to create the water movement and added clippings from various storybooks for sea life and the potential victim. Shading and bubbles are in ink.

I wanted to do something that reflects how I feel regarding the current political situation: There is good reason for all kinds of fear but people would still tell me that it's going to be okay.  And sometimes they would add a more or less heartfelt "Believe me!"

"Don't Worry Baby"
Mixed media on 45rpm vinyl record

Art on 45

 "Art on 45" is the fundraiser that I came up with last year, and now I am in the middle of organizing it for the second time. It all started when I saw a box of old 45rpm records sitting in the corner of a thrift store. Most of them were severely scratched, the songs or singers I never heard of, there were hand-written notes on the records, some were in sleeves, some of those sleeves half-eaten by mice or by time.

Of course, I took the records home. Because this box held everything: It was a gathering of memories and dreams, of thoughts and feelings.

I remember the first record I bought. It was a long-play, the Red Album by the Beatles. I was 12 and had a crush on a boy in my older sister's class. He was a serious Beatles fan. I hadn't been into that kind of music before, I liked music but I didn't think about it. I turned the radio on and listened to whatever came on. Some songs I liked, others I didn't. The Red Album changed everything for me. I listened to And I love Her and Norwegian Wood over and over for months as these songs had cathartic meaning to me. They brought about sadness when I wanted to feel sadness, and other feelings that I wasn't able to define. I have loved music ever since.

As a young woman I moved into an apartment building that was right next to a record store. It was the beginning of the CD era. Little by little all the beautiful vinyl got replaced by those shiny compact discs in their shiny jewel cases. Soon there were only a few boxes with low-priced records sitting in the back of the store and finally were gone completely.

Now the vinyl is coming back. Record stores are coming back. And the record players. And the sweetness that comes with all that vinyl.

All this was on my mind last year when I asked local artists to paint a 45rpm record. I wanted to create a meeting of songs and singers and of their interpretations by the various painters. As the result, I received 28 very unique pieces of art. My husband photographed the pieces and made a beautiful book about the collection. The 45s were then exhibited and sold at a silent auction to benefit the local Montessori School. It was thrilling how successful "Art on 45" was last year and very encouraging to do it again.

Short Stories

I have submitted a few little pieces for an upcoming juried exhibit in a local coffeeshop, that is especially for small works ("50 for $50"). It was interesting to come back to the tiny format after I had realized that the larger canvas actually works so much better for telling my stories.

Anyways, here they are, all 5x5, mixed media on canvas panel.

"About Time"

"Alone Time"

"I don't see you, you don't see me"