It All Becomes a Blur

Quebec Parliament formal garden

I had an opportunity to visit Quebec City, Canada last week. The formal garden that formed the front entrance to the Parliament building pictured above was visible from our hotel, inviting an evening walk across the street.

Massed plantings in front of Parliament

A closer inspection revealed large areas of texture and color. The whole garden was so beautiful and well tended, it made me think ruefully of my poor little spot in the world that I have abandoned to the mosquitos, ticks and rabbits.

Iris

The iris were bright spots of contrast in front of the purple barberry. I was inspired to capture their beauty in abstract form by shooting while moving the camera from left to right as the shutter opened and closed. The camera settings for this shot were ISO 250, 1/40 Sec. I would adjust from there to obtain my abstract.

Iris, blur # 1

This time I made sure I was in shutter priority, and increased the shutter speed to 1/30 of a second.   The ISO remained at 250 for each shot. 1/30 of a second wasn’t fast enough. This slightly blurred result looked like it was suffering from camera shake instead of  being an attempt at fine art abstract photography!

Iris, blur # 2

This time I dialed the shutter from 1/30 of a second to .5 of a second and took another shot. The forms of the iris blossoms were still recognizable, and I liked this version, but the shutter still hadn’t been open long enough for the camera movement to fully blur the subject.

Iris, blur #3

With this final shot  at 1 second I got the abstract I wanted. It takes some flexibility in thinking to deliberately aim for an out of focus photograph, when such care is usually applied to avoiding it, but the result is fresh and unusual. Taking photographs of a single subject from as many different angles and perspectives as possible is a useful exercise. Producing an abstraction of a subject is an angle that might not be tried very often, but can be interesting.

Using abstraction is the  only way to photograph my garden at home right now so that the weeds and neglect don’t show. The blurred brown streaks in the photo would be the rabbits eating those carefree Knockout Roses down to the nubbins! Their chomping little rodent teeth go so fast I could produce a blurred abstraction with my camera on a tripod and the shutter set at 1/8000 of a second!

It all becomes a blur.

Wild, Wild West Family

Here is my family at the Tweetsie Railroad between Boone and Blowing Rock, NC.  Looks like they might be heading for San Francisco. Watch out, Blue Duck!

Note: I did not take this photo. The photographer’s © is on the photo, but it is illegible.

Memphis Blues

Elizabeth steps 'into' the mighty Mississippi R. at Mud Island

My best friend lives in Memphis, and I wouldn’t mind an Elvis sighting, but other than that, Memphis makes me nervous. I don’t go there very often in the interest of not stirring up the New Madrid Fault. That is the kind of event that can happen with people who cannot pick the right line at the bank or grocery check-out. It’s better not to stand in that line in the first place.

We tried to approach Memphis from the east once, to attend a luncheon honoring my friend, but an ice storm forced us to turn back to Nashville.

We also tried to go return through that city from a trip out west, at night, in a storm so intense we didn’t even know we had reached and were driving on the bridge over the Mississippi. The rain began to let up enough as we approached the Tennessee side to see the vague outline of the Pyramid.  I broke out of my paralysis from fear long enough to lift my camera off my lap to take a picture. It was the first sign that we might actually live long enough to make it through Memphis.

The Pyramid as the storm lets up.

I respect Memphis’ rich history and geography, from early days of the Chickasaw and Spanish explorers, to its position high above the mighty Mississippi. Its fame is deserved for many things from cotton and the Civil War to music and barbecue. The Lorraine Hotel forever marks a martyr’s death, but also the present day Civil Rights Museum. The city holds a lot of interest to a photographer. Still, a trip to Memphis always calls out the caution signs.

The Lorraine Hotel

Balcony at the Lorraine Hotel where MLK was standing

We went to Memphis over the weekend.  We were not incident free, as an irate neighbor of my friend’s came to her porch to scream at her about a rosebush he said her yard person had cut down in his yard and killed. We checked it out. It was a spindly thing that could stand a good pruning, and it was not even close to being dead. What had been cut were the canes that came over the fence between them and were causing my friend’s carport roof to rot. I think the heat had addled him, and he had the Memphis Blues.

Tempers were all a little raw from the heat and humidity which was excessive in June even for Memphis. No one had much patience for me stopping to take pictures, but we did drive around town, where the empty streets made me a little sad, and then to Mud Island where I marveled at the displays showing the influence and power of the Mississippi on the lives of Memphians. This time I could clearly see the I-40 Bridge and the Pyramid. We discussed the chance of making it to shore if caught in the dangerous currents of the Mississippi, and decided you could easily end up in Vicksburg if you weren’t pulled under first.

Miniature replica of part of the Mississippi R. at Mud Island.

Hernando de Soto Bridge, I-40 between Memphis and Arkansas

Memphis Pyramid

We made it home alive once more. I’m grateful for that, and for nice neighbors. My next door neighbor and I even share a patch of bamboo (neither of us is guilty of having planted it), and if that plant’s habits don’t drive you nuts at the property line, you’re probably going to have a harmonious relationship. But I wouldn’t count on it if you live in Memphis.

A Pastel Project – Work in Progress

Photo of stems in a vase

My contribution to Studio Shots – Tuesday for this week is a pastel work in progress. The inspiration for it came out my post for last week when I showed a page out of my sketch book and  the supplies I use in my portable art studio, which consists of a plastic box full of colored pencils. The project I was working on was a vase of flowers, which was wilting before my eyes, way before I was through with the sketch. I took some pictures so I could still draw before its condition deteriorated completely, and one of those pictures was of the vase with the stems only. It was an interesting subject to me and I decided to do a pastel painting of it.

Pastel drawing of a vase with stems - in progress

I have the bare bones of it established. Next, I will add  some unexpected color, shape or texture to make it a little more exciting. I also think it needs a curled leaf or two in the lower right hand corner. I’ll post a photo of the finished painting soon.

I found some storage/carrying cases for pastels a few years ago that have worked out very well.  A layer of rice in the bottom of each plastic case keeps the pastels clean. I thought I would add a link to the cases, and although Artbin, the maker of them, is still in business, a thorough search of the website did not turn up the cases.  Perhaps they don’t make them any longer?  There were some other cases, however, that looked like they would be useful.

Storage/carrying case for pastels

Sitting Pretty

How handy that my granddaughter sat up for the first time at my house, where I happened to have a camera ready to record this milestone!

Do you think I should sit up for the first time today?

If I just move this leg over a little......

I think I'm doing it!

Hey, do you see what I'm doing? I'm amazing myself!

Oops, lost my balance for a second.

Oh, I've got it now!

You are a wonderfully clever little girl!  Watch out world!

Get Ready, Get Set, Make Art

I’ve prepared the following post to be added as this week’s contribution to the new collaborative blog Studio Shots – Tuesday.  The topic this week is artists’ tools and materials.  Anyone with an interest in art can participate.  Visit the blog to see various artists’ studios that were added during the blog’s first week of existence, tools and materials added this week, and the easy instructions for joining the fun.

Portable Art Studio

This is my portable art studio – an art journal and a box of art supplies.  I can pick it up in a moment and be ready to go with it, to a park bench, on  trip, or just to my living room chair.  It contains: the prepared art journal, a ROYGBIV assortment of Prismacolor pencils plus black, white and gray, a plastic eraser, an electric eraser with spare inserts, a pencil sharpener, a burnisher, a set of Derwent sketching pencils and charcoals, a set of micron archival and waterproof sketching pens ini sizes 005 to 08, a 2B pencil, a mechanical pencil, a fat sketching pencil and some “magic pencils” that contain variegated colors in one lead.  Pretty minimal, but I’ve never needed anything for sketching yet that wasn’t in my portable art studio.

 

Sketching subject deteriorates before my eyes

 This is my current sketching project, or, rather, a picture of the sad remains. A few days ago, I thought this bouquet was too pretty not to be preserved in a sketch. Today, it’s going to take all my imagination to record its former glory, in spite of the blocking in I did when it was still in fairly good shape. An example of the peril of procrastination!

Art journal with blocked in bouquet sketch and blank page

My notebook, like my box of drawing materials, is always ready to go. When I get a new journal, I paint each page with acrylic paint (or watercolor, or whatever) to prepare a background for sketching later on. The background on the right hand page above is similar to the one on the left , which I chose for my vase of flowers. I love this stage because it is so free-form.  Sometimes I tear paper pieces and paint them onto the surface, or paint over paper pieces and then remove them. I might add some metallic paint, interference powder, or paint a page with many layers of glaze, diluting the paint and holding the journal upright while it  drips down the page. Nothing can happen that can’t be used as a background at some time or other.

Finished colored pencil sketch

This is the finished colored pencil sketch. Pencil was heavily applied on the flowers and vase, then burnished so the waxy pigment would fill in the paper texture.

The paper in this journal is an unnamed, general variety, not the best for colored pencil work. I enjoy working with pencils in my portable studio, because they’re light, there is no mess, minimal smearing on other pages in the journal, and no set-up time. Oh, and I love the bright colors, too. I think I can find some paper more suited to colored pencil work.  There will be a web search coming in the near future. Maybe this afternoon.

The Cat Came Back

The cat came back

We thought she was a goner

But the cat came back

About two and a half years ago, my brother’s business establishment acquired a cat. She was brought in by one of the employees after an office remodel revealed evidence of a rampant mouse problem. John doesn’t remember a discussion about whether this was a good idea. He only remembers seeing the cat one day, asking whose it was, and getting the answer, “Well, it’s ours”.

I’ve never met Gracie, but I do know that she and my brother have bonded. She lives at the shop from Monday to Friday, and goes home with him on weekends.  When I asked him once why he was the one  that had acquired a pet, he gave a list of excuses why no one else could take her. This one’s child had allergies, that one had a cat killing dog, another lived too far to make transporting it easy.  They all sounded lame, so I figured he really wanted to keep the cat.  No one else had an excuse as good as his, anyway, in that none of the eight families in his condo building was supposed to have a pet. Condominium restrictions! They gave him a pass on Gracie, because technically she lives at the office, and was only visiting on weekends. Right.

Gracie has become a fixture at the office, greeting people who come in the door, and making the rounds each day to visit everyone who works there. John is amused by her antics and talks about her a lot.  When he goes out of town on a weekend, he takes her to our mother, and she, too, has grown quite attached to the little gray cat.

When John called me several weeks ago to tell me that Gracie had gone out while a delivery door was propped open, and was now missing, I couldn’t believe it.  Gracie had never volunteered to go through an open door in over two years there.  What had possessed her?

The search was on. Flyers were posted in the nearby neighborhood, and John went over after work every evening to search for the missing Gracie, enlisting a sizable portion of the neighborhood to help  in the process.  Judging by the number of calls he got in response to his flyers, there must be an extraordinary number of unclaimed cats roaming around.  All the sightings were false alarms. One week passed. Hopes weren’t as high as week one, but still optimistic. Week two rolled over to week three.  Had she starved? Had an animal eaten her? Was she miles away, scared and hungry?

During week four John had planned a trip to Nashville to see us.  Still no Gracie, but he got several calls while he was here from people who were still on the lookout and thought they might have seen her. I heard him talk to the people and in my heart I gave no odds that Gracie was still alive. He returned home, and another week passed.  No sign of Gracie.

Then, after five weeks, one of the neighbors went to the door at 3AM to let her two cats in, and not two, but three cats came in the door!  One was called Gracie, but we all call it a miracle.  The good neighbor loaded Gracie in a cat carrier the next morning and took her home to the office.  She was emaciated, having lost 50% of her body weight, dehydrated, and had a huge tick on her, but she’s going to be OK. She is recuperating full time in the condominium where no pets are allowed. She was very traumatized.  After a few days of being home, she walked over to her toy basket, but only looked.  That’s a big step.

By the way, Gracie never caught a single mouse, but there hasn’t been a problem with Box Elder Bugs anywhere in the office or shop areas since she arrived.

The cat came back (not) the very next day,

The cat came back, we thought she was a goner

But the cat came back, it just couldn’t stay away.

Away, away, yea, yea, yea.

My (Art) Space

 

Looking toward the north-west corner of my art studio

I am participating in a new collaborative blog, Studio Shots – Tuesday. Anyone with an art studio is invited to participate by creating a blog featuring their studio, as I am doing here, and then adding the link to it in a comment at Studio Shots. More details may be found by following the Studio Shots link above. Other topics, such as tools and materials, will be added, and it should prove to be a valuable resource  of information, knowledge and sharing among artists, photographers and craft people. Nothing like having company to inspire a thorough cleaning, so rattle those cleaning supplies and join in the fun!

My work table, in this view looking toward the north-west corner, holds some molas that I am making into pillows to sell in a local shop. I’m too used to assembly-line production to ever make just one at a time. I laid all the molas out and chose fabrics and trims from my stash to use to finish the pillows. It’s so hard to wait for the project to be finished so I can see what they will look like. This desire to see how things will look when they are finished is a form of illness, more, actually, like a syndrome. The cause is mysterious, and it seems to be part of you no matter what you do. In my case, I self-medicate by making more and more things in order to see what they look like when they’re finished. It’s an issue of circular proportions.

Four years ago this space was filled with a nine foot by five foot table, rolls of lining and interlining, sewing machines, a serger, a grommet machine, bins of threads, an iron and ironing board, and all the various notions needed to make draperies. Nothing that was not drapery related was allowed, because I was completely involved in keeping up with drapery orders, and had no time for anything else. The art that I wished I had time to do had to wait for another day.

Then I retired, although it took me about three years to completely accomplish it. I shortened the drapery table and added shelving for art supplies. Chain saw sculpture is not on my list, but nearly every other medium is: oils, watercolor, printmaking, pastel, colored pencil, collage, photography.  It seems the list is endless, and I just cannot eliminate anything! Then I had to take up framing because I had all this finished art that I had to do something with! The sewing machine is needed from time to time, so that still occupies a shelf. I use it in my art projects. Don’t try to get me to make a drapery, however, for that is out of my system.

Looking toward the south-east corner

Looking toward the south-east corner is my table with the molas laid out on it, a drafting table holding a mat cutter, some mat and frame samples, and an unfinished oil that I started of my grandson. I don’t ever want to finish it, but I can’t gesso over it because when my grandson sees it he always points out with pride that it is of him.  So, I’m stuck! I could do another one of him that he might like, then maybe he wouldn’t miss this one if it disappeared.

Looking toward the south-west corner

The view of the south-west corner shows more shelves, and a photograph on the drafting table waiting to be framed.

All in all, the photos in this post are not examples of an art studio, as much as a feat of organization.  Every square inch of wall and floor holds a box, shelf, or bin full of art supplies or fabric samples. If I hadn’t needed the space for my drapery business, I’m sure this room would have become a bedroom, or something more useful to other members of the family. Possession however, is nine tenths of the law, and so, it’s mine, all mine!  Besides, no one would want to take it over, because they could never figure out what to do with all the stuff!

When I grow up

William graduated from kindergarten yesterday. He and his classmates looked so young, yet so grown up, in their cheery red caps and gowns.  They entertained us with an impressive musical presentation, then each child received his certificate, stepped to the microphone, and told us what he wanted to be when he grew up.  Among the dreams – a teacher, a gymnast, a football player, a doctor, a famous pianist, a zoo keeper, a veterinarian, a lawyer and a cabinet maker. When it was William’s turn, I was not surprised to hear him  say, “When I grow up, I want to be an artist.”

When I grow up.......

 

William and Miss Nancy

Today he will come to my house for a few hours, and he will want to work on an art project. He’s been making books lately, filled with drawings of alien characters and pictures printed from my computer.  We set a limit on how many he can print, not because I think it isn’t money well invested, but so he is aware that supplies and material cost money and it is not respectful of the planet to be wasteful.

If we talk about what he said at graduation, I will point out that he is already doing what he wants to do when he grows up.  I would love to hear his explanation of why he loves to make art, but I won’t push the conversation for fear of making him self-conscious about it.  I want making art  to be as natural as breathing to him.

 Today the scissors and colored pencils are out on his table and I have finished everything I need to do on the computer so he can click on the Poptropica bookmark on my menu bar, and get to work. When he grows up he can analyze why he wants to be an artist.

The Class of 2009

 

Dear Madelyn,

The main event of the past week was most certainly your graduation from high school, but I’ve put off writing about it because of teeth. Really. Every time I turn around I come face to face with a new tooth issue! I’ve come to think there must be a connection, however murky, between your graduation and all these teeth!

Maybe when you write a blog you’re more attuned to the possibility of connectedness in what formerly seemed random, but the subject of teeth has been remarkably intrusive.

It started with Karsten, when he bounced off that ball,  crashing into a marble fireplace surround, and breaking his two front teeth. Accidents do happen, but this one established the pattern. Celeste had no teeth, but now some are trying to break through, and she’s cranky. 

William has been losing a baby tooth every few days for the last two weeks, and regular trips are made to the bank to keep the tooth fairy supplied with cash. There was some discussion about the proper amount for the tooth fairy to leave, with the going rate finally established at $5.  Then William lost his bottom, right tooth, which happened to be a double tooth, so the discussion had to be opened again.

Robert had a root canal Thursday. Not everyone is given the same gifts. Some people do not have trouble free teeth. I would like to not, however, be the assigned culprit any longer for whatever bad genes my children claim they have inherited.

On Tuesday our dentist’s office called to say Frank had missed his cleaning appointment. I told them I was sorry, but something came up, namely, open heart surgery. He didn’t remember to call and cancel before they split his chest open, and I didn’t even know he had the appointment.

Your graduation ceremony was on Monday and you had your wisdom teeth out on Friday, which introduces the most interesting question of all! Do you know it all, now that you are a graduate? Is that why you don’t need your wisdom teeth anymore? What does it mean that you only had the two upper wisdom teeth? Luck? Genes?

Do you see why this connection has become a subject we can really get our teeth into?

Madelyn, I know they said at graduation that you can spread your wings and fly, but in your case I’m convinced the tea leaves point to teeth. So use those choppers, and taste life from Apple Pie to lemon Zest! If the menu ever seems bland, just call to mind the deafening cheers from the stands when your class of 2009 walked into Allen Arena. The outpouring of love and pride gave me chills, and I thought I was going to cry. Waves of cheers and smiles and calling of names followed as each of you processed to your seat.  You all looked a little overwhelmed, like you wished those mortar boards were big enough to let you hide, but you were smiling, too, as you tried to see where your families were seated. A thousand cell phones had already texted you, “Right hand side, middle, half way up,” and three hundred cell phones had texted back, ” Right hand side, fifth row, fourth seat”. The room was filled with popping camera lights, waving handmade signs, cheers, whistles, and flashing, white, smiling ……TEETH!

 

Maybe that’s it? All of this toothy activity just means you make us smile. We salute your accomplishment. Good job! You’ve come a long way to being the strong, smart, confident, patient and kind woman I saw walking up to receive that richly deserved diploma. Getting to this point was fun, hard, heartbreaking, rewarding, but you made it! We’ll never stop cheering for you. We absolutely love you!

RAH, RAH, RAH! SIS BOOM BAH! Be true to your school!

And remember what your Grandy always says, “Be true to your teeth, or they’ll be false to you”.