May 1, 2024
Happy May Day, and Happy Beltane to those who celebrate! Today the owner of Lille Aeske Arthouse met me at the gallery, and I put all the work on the walls. I hope it’s an auspicious time to start new projects and get out in public again with what I make. I love that Lille Aeske space—it’s hall-like, with an arched ceiling and a cozy feeling of potential: it’s a pleasant, comfortable place when it’s just me there, muttering to myself and putting up the art, but the magic happens when people show up and there’s music, conversation, food and wine. I truly miss the days before Covid, as I’m sure many of you do. I have health issues that make it very wise indeed to avoid exposure to respiratory bugs, so I will be obliged to attend my own art opening wearing a mask. I hope no one takes offense, but I have no choice other than to wear an N95 or better or stay at home, and I don’t want to miss the event.
I ran a couple errands on the way home, and for the rest of the afternoon I’ll be catching up on things here that have been let go while I got the show put together. The flowers are going wild—the grass and weeds, too. Tomorrow I plan to spend all day cleaning up the garden and pulling weeds, and setting up the back porch for a belated Beltane celebration for a small group: that is, my husband, myself, and our two cats. I’ll make a special dinner, and something sweetish and homemade for dessert, keeping in mind nothing is promised, and we must all work for peace and joy in a world that sorely needs both. Safe travels everyone, take care.
April 29 2024
At left is a photo of a place where my husband and I camped last weekend. We both needed a break from work, phones, computers, and human noise. Here at this pond we set up our tent and observed red-winged blackbirds, woodpeckers, quail, etc. Later we lay awake for a while listening to the night shift: what sounded like innumerable frogs, and a talkative, ratchety coot! It was worth the sore muscles to get out here for a while. Backpacking 20 miles in two days feels like more of a big deal to late-fifties me than it did to 40-something me, but despite the minor physical discomfort it was a fantastic getaway. The show is 99% ready to go—I’ve done my best, and hope it goes well. If you’re in Boulder Creek, the opening is on May 3, 5-9 p.m. at Lille Aeske Arthouse.
April 23 2024
Time is flying by, and I am making final preparations for the art opening on May 3, touching up the last few paintings, matting and framing what needs it; getting the “artist statement” and tags ready. I truly dislike the “promotional” part of being a freelance artist—every time I approach a prospective client, or encounter a group of people at an event, I get shaky knees and what is probably a childish desire to become invisible. I’m working on banishing social anxiety—or at least beating it into a whisper—but it happens, even if I can overcome it long enough for a reception. Once, as a student, I was giving a required presentation to the class, and felt like I was going to faint. I didn’t want to stop, but to get it done and over with, so I leaned on the folding table a little and, after a couple pauses, kept going. The teacher, during the evaluation and grading, said the presentation was fine, but I assumed a “too-casual” stance by leaning on the table. I apologized, said it wasn’t my intention to be casual or disrespectful, but I was attempting to cover for feeling like I was going to pass out. Apparently the professor had no idea! I was glad that he understood, but I was very surprised that he could not tell how close I was to keeling over. Despite the fear factor, I look forward to getting my work out there, and have to remember it’s really not a big deal to anyone but me. —Whatever, you know? It’s just drawings! I’m grateful for the opportunity to have another show at Lille Aeske Arthouse. It’s a lovely space, and Boulder Creek is a welcoming place for artists of many disciplines.
Meanwhile I’m keeping up on other things as well as possible, but the yard is getting wild, the house needs attention, and quite a few other things must be done soon. At the moment I have to focus on one thing at a time, and make the best show I can; then the other things can follow. Things will be tended—and my beloved correspondents, I’ll be writing paper letters to you soon! (This means you, PJGL, RLH, KAG, VDW, JCB, and BAK)
So if you’re in the area, come by the gallery, and check out Lille Aeske’s calendar of music and art events here: https://www.lilleaeske.com . Safe travels, everyone; take care of yourselves and others the best you can.
April 12 2024
When I was a younger artist, I did mostly small works: tiny watercolors, intricate pencil renderings, small illustrated handmade books, etc. As I went through high school and art classes, I was steered away from this approach, encouraged to learn to use “more complicated media,” and avoid these detailed “precious” (the word of one of my teachers) drawings. Although I see the teachers’ viewpoints, and appreciate what I continue to learn from making a greater number of larger (for me, that’s like 28” x 30”!) and more narrative or compositionally challenging pieces, I still love to do studies like this. I think I’ll allow myself to draw them sometimes. I find it calming, and it reminds me to slow down and appreciate things when other aspects of life are distracting and too loud.
This is a drawing in progress—it’s a fossil I found in the yard. The underside is the vertical view, and the top of the fossil is the horizontal view. Are there any paleontologists out there? From using internet searches I think it might be some variety of coral—horn coral, perhaps?—but I am not sure of that. What I do know is that it’s been a long time indeed since these flourished in the middle of what is now corn country. Safe travels, everyone.
April 11, 2024
Greetings! The past few months have been pretty busy. My husband and I have been working on our respective projects, and traveling a bit for work/family. I think of this as a “maintenance” time—Spring cleaning of various sorts, practical and personal. I have to make time for my art practice, and remember to appreciate the spirit of where I am at the moment. That’s where this sketch came from: it’s a view out the car window as we drove through a desert landscape, windblown shrubs and gnarled trees just starting to wake up. It feels good to draw freely—switching media helps keep things fresh, and I love the portability of my sketchbook and a pencil. Later I may make paintings from some of the drawings I make from this trip, but for now I’m content just to work in the midst of everything else going on.
A couple weeks ago I finished an illustration for a Stephen King-related book that is soon to be announced; also there’s a book from Lividian Publications I’m looking forward to seeing in print…that’s also still under wraps. I do love to collaborate with authors, art directors, and publishers, so if you have a project for which my work is suitable, feel free to contact me.
In May, Lille Aeske Arthouse in Boulder Creek will be hosting a show of my work titled “A Wild Road.” Many of the works depict literal roads, or views from an actual road; others are reflections of interior journeys on imaginary roads, or memories and dreams—some combinations thereof. They’re all wild in one way or another. Take care and safe travels.