Embellished Drawings

Finishing up work for a show at Caffe Fiore in Old Ballard, Seattle (5405 Leary). If you're in the area, stop by during the Ballard Artwalk, Saturday, December 8th, from 6-9pm. The one above is the paroxysmal birth of a river, dedicated to my waterfall-loving mother.

wet or dry?

A beautiful intersection of human art/design and natural phenomena...

pro tour

My husband, Zack, saw the last post and my flickr images and said that I need some documentation help. It's so difficult to get these images that are on whitish backgrounds not to look rainbow-y when digitally shot. Here's a good argument for having professionals shoot your work. Z's gonna get them in front of even tungsten light like the grad student in photo that he is.

can it be said...

...that mothering two young boys is amazing and claustrophobic all at once? Solitude is like a small patch of untrampled grass in an otherwise flattened field... one that I defend with elbows and knees and sweaty hands, making sure not to hurt anyone in the deflecting process, and in the end, barely being able to appreciate the green lush of it for the fatigue that hits me as soon as no one's flying at me. I have to say that this part of life is such an intense marathon. Babysitters are great, but need to be pre-arranged, and it still feels like borrowed time. Forgive me, all ye who aren't into hearing Mom-sighs. The fullness of it is full of astoundingly joyful moments, funny ones, really boring ones... and I know it's all so important. But-- whew! Whew! And there are only two of them. I feel like such a mega-wimp compared to the mothers of now and then who have/had a quiver-full.

In any case, during naps and in between wrestling sessions, I've been doing some new work for an upcoming show, and some of it is posted on flickr. My website-proper has had a little face lift as well, and will (hopefully) soon change more. If you live anywhere near Chicago, you can check out the Allegoric show that's back from London...

Allegoric
Country Club Chicago
1100 N Damen
Chicago, IL 60622

Friday, November 16th, 2007
7-11 PM
(1 Night Only)

when i go out to find you

...i find you seeking me.

zeitgeist sensitivity

I realized that two of my recent posts have been temptations to be cynical about things that I have in common with many others (documentation of babies, women painting animals). Hmmm. It's a funny tension between wanting to be unique and accepting our part in the grand scheme. I think it was in the ol' Linklater film Slacker that a postcard is read aloud and proclaims that we all walk around trying to emphasize our differences, but that the similarities are more important. Hmmm again. I really do love the balance between the two. I've written before about the particularity and universality of love; each type has its challenges. Don't really know where I'm going with this-- just saw a pattern.

girls who draw horses

I know I don't need images, but I hate not being able to get to them when I want to. Something's awry with my blog (archives aren't working, pictures won't load) so until it gets straightened out, I'll just have to be verbal.

I'm a bit self-conscious about the fact that so much artwork being made by me and my female contemporaries is animal focused. We simply can't stop drawing and painting birds, rabbits, bugs and whales, can we? I remember learning about Rosa Bonheur (was going to publish an example of her work, alas), who was a painter during a time and culture when a woman wasn't allowed to attend nude figure-drawing sessions, so she made gorgeous, epic paintings of farm animals. But she dignified her subject matter with a wild-eyed seriousness and muscular accuracy. In my book, Bonheur's approach is at the far end of a spectrum of animal-picturing by women, a spectrum that moves slowly toward sentimentality and idealization of a more domestic sort, ending up squarely in a realm called "cute." And if I'm to be terribly honest, I'm attracted to specimens all down the scale. If it reaches cute, it has to be flavored with an Asian toy modern sensibility, though the onslaught of these types on Etsy and Flickr has almost saturated my sensibilities.

Just now, I saw a delicate, smooth-shaped little bird land on a thin branch outside my window. The day is a blue and yellow autumn one, and the branch it chose is covered in small gold leaves. The weight of the bird curved the branch with a graceful bounce, before several other birds like it landed nearby, creating a temporary choreography of echoed sways. Have you ever been in close proximity to a white-tailed deer as it heaves its hundreds of pounds into high, deft arcs over underbrush? Cute is one thing, but a very human and limited one, especially when held against the Thing Itself. I think what I'm saying is that my deepest desire is to appreciate and understand the type of wildness that these two small examples illustrate.

Never was a girl who drew horses, but maybe I'll become one.