mosaic table

I was going to try to post a piece of artwork every day while in Florida, but it turned out we didn't have an internet connection, so that would have been very difficult. It was a wonderful, relaxing time with my parents and grandparents. I did do some artwork down there, but didn't get to post it, so I will play catch up here. The largest project I undertook was a mosaic table top for my grandmother. She had this round piece of wood that she swiped from the bottom of an old recliner, and was using it as a table top for her herb garden on the patio. It didn't look bad, but my mom suggested a mosaic since I've been dying to start my immense spring outdoor mosaic project, but can't until, well...spring. My grandmother had some old floor tiles that she gave us to use, but they were all white, and my mom and I LOVE color. We headed to Lowe's and found some 29 cent tiles in 5 vibrant colors. We bought a small stack, and took them home, ready to start the project. My grandma still thought she might have other tiles packed away somewhere, and finally she found these beautiful old tiles that she used to use as trivets. She assured me she hadn't used them in years and that it would be fine to break them up and add them to the table. One had a picture of a man riding a bike, one a huge pink rose, another had a bunch of random flowers. These old graphic tiles really made the table much more interesting. In September I took a weekend seminar with Isaiah Zagar who is famous for his mosaics in Philadelphia. He stressed the idea of not thinking about the way the colors and tiles are placed. Worry just a bit about overall spacing, and let the rest take care of itself. Isaiah gave us big buckets to work with, and said "Don't even look in the bucket to see which color you're picking next, just pick one and put it up. If you don't think about it, you'll know where it should go" In his experience (over 40 years I believe) with mosaics, he insists that totally random looks best. I think he's right. It also just feels good to work this way, to turn off your mind for a while and just see what comes out without worrying about whether or not it will look "right". The amazing thing seems to be that if you can get your brain out of it, it does come out looking "right". Pablo Picasso said "Every child is an artist. The problem is remaining and artist once we've grown up." Anyway, I took Isaiah's advice and here is the table top we ended up with.

energy

Today I've been filled with restless energy. I think it may be looking forward to my upcoming trip to Florida. There will be lots of time to relax, warm weather, a beach trip. I think this painting looks like restless energy. I love my life here, but I'm ready to get away for a bit.

i'm back.

The flurry of the holiday season caught up with me the past few days as I shopped, wrapped gifts, and listened to Christmas tunes. I negotiated work for 2008, sung the vocals for a spoof of the song "Dancing Queen" for one of my clients to be played at his company's Christmas party, and went to an awesome hip hop dance class. I neglected my daily art, yes. But, I'm baaaa-aack. More circles and squiggles on packing paper for you all! These are more about color than anything, and I enjoy experimenting with color. Off to sleep...

tiny tile

This is a tiny tile painted. Ugh - the flash is bugging me, but I can't get the colors to come out right unless the flash is helping me out. Sorry for the glare. The tile is 1.5 inches square, so this is officially the smallest piece of artwork I've done yet!

stops and starts

Today was filled with stops and starts as far as the art was concerned. I would start something, stop, move on to something new, stop, move on again. Finally, after holding off on finishing 3 others, I finished this one. It is painted on that plastic padding you wrap delicate things in for shipping - not bubble wrap (although one that I started WAS on bubble wrap). This is flatter plastic with a very spongy surface. I love oranges and green. The whole downstairs of my house is painted in oranges and green. This kind of reminds me of the frog eggs we used to play with down at the pond behind our house.

even simpler.

The simplicity of these tiles is holding my interest. I also have a busy day and knew I would have to make this morning's artwork short. I'll be leaving soon for Harrisburg to do some recordings. After that, I will get some dinner on my way back and then go straight to the Eckhart Tolle meetup group I've become part of. We're discussing Eckhart Tolle's book The Power of Now. Sean started the meetup, and we have become friends. He sent me this quote yesterday after seeing my art. From The Power of Now - "Do not be concerned with the fruit of your action - just give attention to the action itself. The fruit will come of its own accord. This is a powerful spiritual practice."

simple.

Today was one of those rare days when I felt compelled to stay inside and organize, clean, and beautify my living space. As I worked on my house, I listened to Christmas music and NPR, lit candles, and never managed to get out of my pajamas. As I was organizing, I found some tiles a local architecture firm had given me. I'll be tackling a huge mosaic project in the spring, and they were nice enough to offer the tiles free on Craigs list. Most of the tiles I'd already broken up into pieces for the mosaic, but there were a few small ones that I didn't want to break. As soon as I saw them, I knew they'd be part of my art for the day. This piece is very simple - only 3 pieces. It is made up of two tiles, and one bead I had bought years ago for a necklace I never made.

This little creation reminds me of some wisdom my dad told me years ago that has always stuck with me. There was an image on a magazine cover done by a famous contemporary artist. I think it was Time magazine, and I can't remember the artist, but the image was simply a white cover with a black dot strategically placed. Apparently, the magazine got a lot of letters saying that the image wasn't art, and that "anyone could have done that", etc. My dad told me in defense of the artist something like this: "There is wisdom in knowing when to stop and let it be." There have been many times when I've created something, and should have stopped, but I kept on embellishing, and in the end, felt I'd ruined the piece. With this one, I stopped. It is just right, and I love it.

rushed

I want to get a better picture of this, but I have my voice lesson at noon, and am trying to eat my alphabet vegetable soup while posting this :) I painted for about 3 hours this morning, and this was the result. Happy monday...

daily art

Through this blog, I will post one piece of artwork each day.

Last night I stayed up late painting for the first time in years. It seems inspiration has struck again. I'm grateful that it came now, with winter staring me in the face. I'm already mourning my early morning walks through the neighborhoods of East Falls. I miss going to Wissahickon Park and sitting on the rocks there, listening to the river run past me. I miss holding an ice cream cone that melts. My ice cream is now so well behaved...

There was a time, years ago, when I stayed up late painting nearly every night for about a span of 4 months or so. I would lose myself in my art, time would fly, and going to bed was the ultimate torture I fought as a child - I would beg to stay up just one more hour. During those times of artistic inspiration in 2001-2002, when I did finally put myself to bed I would lay there in a state of pleasurable exhaustion. All was right with the world.

Heather, a radiant friend I met in college, saw my paintings and liked them. She spoke with one of her friends who owned a gallery, and, before I knew it, I had my first solo art show. I called it "Soul Toward the Sun" since images of the sun came through in so much of my work. The exhibit ran from March 5-April 5, 2002. Things with my artwork began to flow - I was accepted into my first juried exhibition at the Banana Factory. It was called "Music Through Art" and ran July5 through September 7, 2002. I began to sell some work, and opportunities began to fall in my lap as they always do when I am in the flow and feeling good.

After joining the Lehigh Valley Art Alliance, one of my multi-media works was accepted into their annual spring juried show. It was then that I got spooked. I stopped painting almost immediately. Was everyone laughing at my stuff? Was it ridiculous and infantile? All of these other artists seemed to have a lot of training, and I hadn't taken an art class since 8th grade. My multi media work in the Art Alliance show had glitter on it. It looked silly to me perched on the wall of the Allentown Art museum next to the realistic painting of the ballerina hanging next to it.

In high school, I avoided art because I thought it meant being able to draw an apple that looked like an apple, and I knew I couldn't do that. My apples always turned out to look like malformed oranges with an odd stem. Why is there an apple stem on that orange? I had no interest in trying to paint exactly what I see, and I still don't. Perhaps the thing that bothered me most though, was the cheeriness of my artwork. It can't help but broadcast the fact that I'm a born optimist. My artwork nearly always comes out bright and colorful and full of hope. It isn't hard to look at. It isn't edgy. It isn't depressing or sad. There is nothing gruesome or harsh about my work. It often feels embarrassing to be full of joy in a world that glorifies the idea of the starving, tortured artist. I am not...that.

The good news is that for years, I let this insecurity stop me from creating. I knew I would paint again, but it would have to be when I stopped caring what other people thought about what I was creating. Finally that time has come. I AM a starving, tortured artist - when I'm not creating. When I'm creating, I'm a fulfilled and happy artist who sleeps well. One piece of art every day. Here goes...