Studio Sunday-Free Plants

My free plants sign has moved in from the garage for the winter and is waiting to be put in drawer. One of the few advantages of living on a busy street is how easy it is to pass along things we no longer want or need.

Thoughtful Thursday-Rumer Godden Quote

from the second volume of her autobiography, A House with Four Rooms, which is on my To Read List

Book Arts Tuesday-Buckaroo Banzai & Book Art

You never know where a handmade book will turn up. Even in the weird and wonderful Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai which is my husband's favorite movie. As we were watching it last night for the gazillionth time, I noticed for the first time that his father was using a Japanese account book in the scene where Dr. Emilio Lizardo attempts to go through solid matter in the oscillation overthruster. By the way, the movie contains one of my favorite lines ever:

no matter where you go... there you are.

Here's a couple of photos of Japanese account book I have:

Here's how Japanese account books are described in Japanese Bookbinding: Instructions from a Master Craftsman by Kojiro Ikegami:

This simple yet distinctive ledger, called daifuku cho, is not seen much in Japan today. In the Edo period (1603-1868), however, it filled an essential role as travel diary, guest register at inns, and above all as a merchant's account book. Customarily embellished with characters for "great fortune" (daifuku), it aptly expressed the merchant's aspiration for prosperity. Completed ledgers were often strung together and tied with a long cord so that in case of fire—a common occurrence in crowded Japanese towns—they could be flung into a nearby well and later retrieved without damage to either paper or ink.

If you don't have a copy of this book and are interested in Japanese binding of any variety, I highly recommend it.

Rhonda Miller has written a blog post at My Handbound Books about making a Japanese account book from Ikegami's book.

Studio Sunday-A Mirror

I never thought I'd be putting a mirror in the studio but I have been taking a jewelry class and experimenting with necklaces from stones and sticks. You can't really decide how it will look on a flat work surface. I'm so happy to have this particular mirror which was made by my mother. I love having a physical representation of her creative spirit here with me in the studio. It's a reminder of its place in my heart where it infuses my work every day.

Here's one of my first projects. I've learned some techniques beyond wire wrapping and look forward to applying them.

Autumn

May you enjoy the golden days of autumn.

Thoughtful Thursday-New Rules

I have never been much for New Year's Resolutions or even the idea of starting the year in January. It seems like such an arbitrary time without a deep seasonal or personal resonance. Although I do a certain amount of self-examination at the end of the calendar year by force of custom, my birthday is a more significant marker for me. Since who I am is so inextricably connected to my work as an artist, so much of this thinking is about my work.

Last year I marked a zero year—60—with the decision to open myself to whatever experiences came my way and start the new decade with an embrace of openness. Most of year sixty was intensely busy with a lot of different projects. I am happy I did every one of them but as spring ended, I concluded that I need to be more selective and think things through before I get involved.

Two things that contributed to this decision were the calendar book I got to keep track of how I spend my time and cleaning the studio. The calendar book was a real eye-opener. Things that I thought would take, or recollected as taking, an hour or two would turn out be four, or six, or eight. Most of these things were not art-making but related—photographing work, making packaging for the traveling Spirit Books. When I sorted through old files and boxes in the studio, I was surprised by the incredible amount of care and attention I put into every idea I have. If I am going to pour myself into everything I undertake, and I want to keep that, I need to be more selective in what I chose. I want to do the censoring and control on the front end and then let myself immerse fully and freely once I start.

Last May I bought myself a beautiful watch to remind myself of the value of time. The plan was if I were asked to get involved with anything, I would look at my watch and then say no, or I'll get back to you. It seemed to be working. I had a big moment this summer when I said no to the fourth grade teacher about a project for next year's literary festival. Okay, I did offer to talk to her and share any information that would be useful to her but I said no to actually working on something. As summer drew to a close, I found myself initiating projects on my own that I then determined I needed to withdraw from. It was awkward and painful. I realized I needed to be saved not from others but from myself.

Here are my new rules. Everything I undertake must do at least one of the following four things, and more than one would be great.

1. Help my work to grow and develop

This one is about saying yes rather than no, giving myself the time and permission to do whatever I need, including reading, walking, just being. I need to respect the time that feeds the mind and soul as well as the studio time.

2. Advance my career

If I am going to care about how my work gets out into the world, and I find that I do, I need to be more practical. I need to analyze the possibilities and set some goals. My message to myself: either stop worrying about it, or do something about it.

3. Make money

I want to be paid well for the work I do. I am not concerned about making money from my art. My income has always come from other sources. For over twenty years, it was teaching bookmaking workshops in schools. I continue to work to share my passion for making books through teaching and speaking but it is harder to do without the captive audience that exists in schools. My husband is supportive in all ways but I am not comfortable being as minor a contributor to the family income as I have become.

4. Bring me joy

This seems pretty obvious but what I have realized is that I need to think whatever the idea or project is completely through and determine how much of it is joyful and how much is not. Initial appearances can be deceptive.

As I contemplate year 61, I want it to be a year of focus and balance, to stay open but be discriminating, to look widely but with intention. Wish me luck.

Book Arts Tuesday-Randy Asplund

Randy Asplund has a wonderful website in which he shares his work with medieval book arts and manuscript illumination, as well as science fiction, fantasy, and fine art. Randy is an active member of the Society for Creative Anachronism. Here is what he says about the group:

I am very lucky that my career and hobbies overlap so much it is a blur to distinguish between them. My active hobby is the SCA, where we dress and socialize as a medieval society. Many of us put on real armor and play a very active and extreme sport based on medieval combat.
However, lets not confuse the SCA with medieval accuracy. It is a club which exists for people who want to enjoy exploring the romance and ideals of the middle ages, not necessarily the exact way things were. What I mean to say is we are very liberal in our expectations. For example, we recognize that new people (who are often students with little cash) do not always have the means to create perfect costumes any time soon. Instead of not letting them play, we make allowances and try to encourage them toward the goal of creating a more authentic ensemble. Some members just come to party with their friends -and that is cool, while others take delight in pushing the limits of in-depth research, and learning all they can about recreating the look of the middle ages. I fall into both categories.

Randy has indeed pushed the limits of in-depth research. He is both patient and fearless in his quest for knowledge of the old ways. He makes his own parchment and some of the colors he uses for illumination. He also makes and sells reproduction tools.

Late 14th- early 15th c. French reproduction Brush Tray with decorative glaze, for Tempera painting.


Visit RandyAsplund.com to see samples of his work and process which he generously shares it online.

Studio Sunday-Something New

Over the years I have been so lucky to acquire a variety of drawers both large and small that were no longer of use to their owners. This is my latest addition. I'm using it for small books and assorted materials.

The surface is a perfect place for stones and leaves.

Thoughtful Thursday-Art Propelled

Art Propelled is the blog of artist Robyn Gordon. Here's how she introduces herself:

I am an artist living in KwaZulu Natal, South Africa. I carve wooden totems and panels. Art is my passion. When I'm not creating art I'm thinking about it.

In her posts, she shares her own work and thoughts and the work and words of others that inspire her. I think you will be inspired as well. I know I am.

Her most recent post is called INTRICATE PLEASURE and focuses on art and nests. There is a poem by Marianne Boruch, exquisite drawings of nests by Naomi Aho, and three-dimensional work of Christopher H. Paquette, Lizzie Farey, Roberto Conte, Laura Ellen Bacon, Jayson Fann, and Floris Wubben.

Art Propelled
Robyn's website of her wood carvings

Book Arts Tuesday-Stick Books

I've spent the morning making books for the upcoming Stick Book workshop at the Center for Creative Wholeness in Newbury, MA. I love working with such simple materials (recycled paper, sticks, and ribbon and string), tools (a hole punch, scissors, and a glue stick), and the easiest of techniques (punching holes and threading string).



Contact me if you'd like to join me for the workshop on Saturday, October 13 from 10 AM to 12:30 PM. And here's a pdf about the workshop.

Breathe-Outdoor Sculpture at Maudslay 2012

The simplicity of this year's piece is in contrast to the long and twisted road to its creation. It was one of those situations when I was firmly planted in my own way. I am a believer in the importance in right intentions and perhaps that is where the twisted road began. This is my sixth time exhibiting in Outdoor Sculpture at Maudslay. My first year was an ambitious piece which involved ink drawings with natural materials on handmade paper from Bhutan, ladders, and lots and lots of rain which led to technical difficulties. The next four were much more about the specifics of the place (quotes from John Greenleaf Whittier who spent much time at Maudslay and Martha Brookes Hutcheson who designed the formal garden) and the viewer's experience (Word Play with letters in a tree to find and spell out a Wordsworth quote and the community book installation Play at Maudslay). This year I decided that I wanted it to be more about me and what I do as an artist. Perhaps the hubris of that is what got in the way.

We send in our proposals in May and then have the summer to work on, and in some cases, change our plans. This year's theme is Inside Out. We are encouraged but not required to have our work relate. I started with the title Transcendental Choir and planned hanging scrolls which viewers would unroll to read quotes by the New England Transcendentalists (Thoreau, Emerson, Margaret Fuller, to name a few) on the inside. I viewed it as the beginning of a new set of work, but as the summer went on, I became less and less interested in figuring out the mechanics and construction of the scrolls and knew I needed a new plan.

As I pondered the idea of Inside Out, I thought of the breath and how it brings the outside in and lets the inside out. I thought I would make a "Breathing Station" with instructions to stand under my chosen tree and breathe, but then decided that that was too conceptual for me. Although I am going through a lot of conflict about the making of objects and the burden of what to do with them that follows, I still like make things out of tangible materials.

I had written a text about the breath and wanted to use the words. I still have a stack of waterproof tyvek sheets from earlier projects and a life-time supply of black liquid acrylic from the Hawthorne project so I knew what I would be using for the writing.

In late spring, I had taken a jewelry class with Lisa Scala in working with sea glass and stones and was interested in using some of the techniques. My vision at the start was strips of tyvek with wire-wrapped stones hanging from them.

After bringing several hanging strips to near completion, I could see that it just wasn't right. At first I thought it was the quality of the words that I had written. Admittedly they weren't good, but that wasn't the problem. After some puzzling, I realized that I was revisiting an issue that I thought I had resolved twenty years ago in an epiphany moment that I talk about in my Artist's Journey talk. A poet friend looked at an accordion book I had made from binders board. It had imagery on the front and text (me telling what it was about) on the back. She said, I can see so many things in this. And I said, Aha. When she left, I covered over the text on the back and realized that some things are better left unsaid. Yet here I was again telling the viewer what to think and canceling all the mystery and limiting the work.

Released from the burden of my text and still needing something for my tyvek strips, I made it simple—the word BREATHE with one letter on each strip. I wrote two sets of the letters and chose the best. I made a second set of strips for the back with abstract brush doodles. I had thought about sewing the two sides together but decided that it would be a simpler cleaner look without the stitching with the added benefit of being easier and quicker. I used imitation sinew to tie the tyvek to pieces of grape vine and wire to wrap the stones.

If the making was filled with twists and turns, the installation was a straightforward joy. I hadn't looked at the tree since I had chosen it in May and was delighted with the sloping branch overlooking the field. I'm sure that was why I had chosen it in the first place but I felt it was a sign that I had gotten it right. I finally was able to relax and breathe.

Studio Sunday-Two Views

Friday and yesterday morning were spent getting ready for the Outdoor Sculpture at Maudslay installation. There is a certain satisfaction in looking at photos of work in progress

and just as much in looking at a clean surface ready for new work.

Thoughtful Thursday-Stamina

I just listened to an Art World Demystified podcast from WYBC Yale radio: an interview by series host Brainard Carey, author of Making It in the Art World with Caroll Michels, career coach, artist-advocate, and author of How to Survive & Prosper as An Artist. I'm pleased to find the series—an earlier interview is with Sarah Thornton whose book, Seven Days in the Art World, is the subject of last week's Thoughtful Thursday.

I am a fan of Caroll's book and and worked with her on a Spirit Books exhibition at Regis College in Weston, MA in 2005. In addition to press releases, contacts, and all the nitty gritty stuff, she helped me to address my reluctance to present myself (the old who do you think you are? syndrome).

In the interview, Caroll talks about her start in the field and the challenges that artists face to "survive and prosper." She talked about the need for artists to have stamina. When questioned about where that stamina comes, she found it difficult to say exactly. I have been thinking lately about what makes me keep going and have a few thoughts. By now, making art is my life and I keep plugging along through ups and downs because that is what I do. I think my path could be easier if I did things differently, but I come from a long line of stubborn people.

It is when I think about my start in the world of visual art through calligraphy that I get some clues as to why I stuck it out. I never attended art school and am primarily self-taught. My initial love of calligraphy came from my love of words. By the time I finished my degree in English literature, I was so tired of analyzing texts. A chance request from a high school friend to letter in her friend's wedding album brought out my old set of Speedball pen and nibs. I was unemployed and dove in deep. I was no budding genius (see photo below),

but I was transported into a new world where I could allow my love of the words to spill out even if the letters themselves were awkward and halting. As I learned more, I came to love the letters as well and worked to train both my eye and my hand.

What kept me going was that love—for the physical act of writing and the excitement of learning to see. I think to keep going the work has to always be the reward. The goal can't be attention, acceptance, what Caroll called validation. It has to be the work itself.

Book Arts Tuesday-Books Around the World

As school starts and I am no longer getting ready for workshops (good news—no nightmares of standing in front of a class completely unprepared), I thought back to one of my favorite parts—sharing my collection of handmade books from around the world with students. I was always amazed at how excited they were to see the many forms books have taken. You can see some of them at makingbooks.com.

Studio Sunday-Looking Out the Window

What a treat on a working holiday weekend to be looking out the studio window at trumpet flowers on the fence courtesy of the neighbors.