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Showing posts from 2012

A Creative Life, One Scoop at a Time

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Aside from a couple of small, gifty projects I haven't worked in my studio since the Red Thread Retreat . If my feet were smaller I'd probably have made more progress on the re-purposed shoe boxes, but there are still four weeks until Christmas. I'm not sure whether it's taking care of sick children, too much on the list, the crush of cold weather on my arthritis, or all of the above. I do know that the more I try to control or balance obligations the more frustrated and impatient I become. And still no finished boxes. And I still can't decide if time away from the studio is simply that, or if triggers a germination of sorts. An examination of the inner-workings of the creative process often isn't pretty; for me anyway, it's scattered and messy. Preparing pumpkins for Thanksgiving pies seemed an apt metaphor, a labor that involves guts and sorting, scraping away the pulp and seeds, which have their own use, then setting asid
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They say cats have nine lives. I believe humans experience endless lives in the brief span of a lifetime. Especially for us creatives willing to remain open to truth, be vulnerable with fragile wings that, like a miracle, are strong enough to send us into flight. There is risk involved but the generosity of rewards makes it oh, so worth the occasional scrape, the deeper wounds even that cut through the sheer cloth of courage. Little protection is offered but then again not needed, for the layers we paint, weave, wire in our studios build our hearts into a fortress of faith. It is possible to walk the bridges we stumble upon without owning the tools to judge their stability. That is faith, and, in stepping out onto the wavering boards it becomes evident that many have already traveled there. I tapped into that and found myself headed to the inaugural Red Thread Retreat , fully aware that I wouldn't know any of the other 14 women - yet - or

Seeking Further Sanctuary

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This is the fifth of seven in the Seeking Sanctuary series I completed a few weeks ago. The pieces are currently hanging at The Nest: Center for Women, Children and Families (until I pick them up tomorrow!) and they couldn't have found a more appropriate setting. Each piece is deeply, specifically personal, with so much symbolism that it's amusing when I hear a comment like, "Oh, that's so pretty!" In this piece for example, Cinderella, there is a rusty razor blade, a gun and a stick pin, albeit masked amid pearls and a gorgeous Frozen Charlotte.  Most of us know the pain of rejection, humiliation, falling short, abuse, neglect and other sorrows and I wanted to express darker moments in these, a sweeping out of the old bones, per se. So, as you can see, the shoe doesn't fit Cinderella after all... no happy ending.  In (her fourth volume of) The Diary of Anais Nin , she wrote about the creative's need for emotional excess; in other words, my

Seeking Sanctuary

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Next Week is National Invisible Illness Week - so along with posting another Frozen Charlotte piece that is part of the Seeking Sanctuary series, I wanted to address life with chronic illness, as I do every September.  I have read that it's not good to mix messages on a blog, that the content should be consistent, i.e., I have an altered art blog, so I should post altered art. However, the art wouldn't have happened without the illness and it a big factor in who I am... so, I'll understand if you stop reading! The placement of the accent is the only difference between ‘in-val-id and its heteronym in-‘val-id. I don’t consider myself an invalid or invalid; however, both are quite apt descriptions for the initial years, those spent gathering pieces of a life scattered after a diagnosis that, while thankfully not terminal, in many ways has been interminable. Those hazy, first years of ending one way of life and grappling to ass

Gratitude and then some...

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photo by Alice Taylor Edmon, my incredible and beautiful daughter I've been smiling since yesterday. Not a sweet or content smile but a full-out joy and gratitude grin. Having included Steven Pressfield and his fabulous books in so many of my posts, I decided it was time to let him know just how much they have impacted my creative process and improved the quality of life overall. So I did. I kept it to 3 paragraphs and didn't over-edit the email, just sent it off. What I was not expecting was a reply. Twenty minutes after I hit send.  He thanked me for taking time to write a "wonderful, warm and funny letter!" He went on to say, "I'm delighted that "War of Art" found a home with you (and "Turning Pro" too).  Your blog/site looks great." Wow. Now, is Steven a regular guy, who gets up every day and battles to do his work (which, he does extremely well) and put it out for people like me to read? I haven&#
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The third in the series of 12x12 canvases featuring Frozen Charlottes (and cabinet cards) is perhaps my favorite so far. I think it's the glove... one of those rare treasures that - once discovered - becomes a must have. The glove has been in one of my many collection bins for three years. I could not imagine how I would use it, but hoped that one day there would be a moment of realization that it would be just right for a piece of art.  I enjoy sifting, sorting, stacking and perusing the objects, papers, fabrics, junk jewelry, vintage treasures and rusty bits I've collected over the years. But I’ve often had a sense of reluctance when it came to parting with a special bit even though I was incorporating it into my art. I doubt I'm the only artist who keeps a stash, hesitant to forge ahead for fear that another, better purpose will reveal itself. In due time. Meanwhile remaining content to marvel at the folds, wrink
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In the previous post I included a photograph of elements used for the focal point in "Wait," the second of four 12x12 mixed media canvases that I've completed within the last several weeks. The series is thematic, in that the pieces stem from two things: first, they reflect what I believe to be my true artistic voice; and second, inspiration from a quote by author Virginia Woolf, "If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people." Did Virginia Woolf mean that we need to publicly unravel our deepest secrets and darkest truths? I don't believe so, however, we do need full awareness in order to write, paint, draw, dance, to live authentically and wide-open... imperfections hanging out and vulnerability dangling in the clear light of day.  At the height of my fiction-writing venture the inability to tell my own story essentially prevented me from writing my best work. My stories were... safe. Like skipping a rock,
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Not long after I started blogging, I realized that, just like making art, it's about the process. Essentially, I do it for myself. And that's a good thing - after only a scattering of posts in recent months the number of page views has declined since years past when I was a more diligent blogger. So, I remain content to express myself and am incredibly thankful for every visitor who does stop by. Now, I must say that I live for comments like Kim's (the post below). Knowing that I have made a significant connection to an art friend is the kind of unexpected reward that fills my spirit with trust, gratitude and empathy. This photograph was the final in-progress before assembly for a mixed media canvas. For some reason I love capturing elements along the way not knowing precisely how they will come together, though I do have an idea/plan! What a metaphor for life, art, blogging, breathing in amazement every step during the ultimate process, the j

Frozen Charlotte Canvas #1

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'Once' is one of the frozen charlotte canvases that I mentioned in the post below. I've been to The Altered Page and am a bit, well, humbled by the stunning photographs that Seth has posted. Still life, array of objects, I thought, hmmm, things I make art with - so I chose buttons!! Well, if it's good enough for Seth...
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Who says you can't go to a yard sale 2000 miles away?! The boss of art and objects cool and collectible, Ms. Alicia Caudle , had hers and, trusting her as I do, I had her ship me a box. The contents eclipsed my wildest imagination and I considered posting photos of my new treasure but decided to skip to the best part. Alicia art. This altered tin blows me away. To say she's an inspiration doesn't cut it - I've always been in love with her work. I've also been experimenting with Frozen Charlottes lately and having a blast - I plan to post the three new canvases I've finished soon. The most amazing aspect of these porcelain babes is the incredible variety of uses; yes, they are always recognizable as an element, or focal point, but the options are unlimited! Charlottes (and Charlies) have a really cool history. The one-piece dolls were made in Germany between 1850 - 1920 and the smallest ones were often put in Christmas puddings as charms! I'll
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Physical, mental, social…spiritual. Interestingly, this is the one that brings it all together. The thing that makes life worth it, the thing that rises us above the mundane and everyday, the thing that brings meaning to life, is when we are aware of the spirituality of our lives, the presence of God within us and around us and through us, the step of enhancing our life by connecting to the Spirit. - Dr. Woody Berry This is exactly what I felt while floating in the lake, hearing nothing but the cry of the hawk that lives in that particular cove. I spent several minutes gazing at the trees that form a semi-circle horizon above the rocks. I saw more shades of green than I ever thought possible, patches of deep blue sky showing through in spots… and the elegance of the lifeless tree that must have fallen years ago and now rests horizontally, weathered and stretching gracefully down from where it was once rooted. I watched the finches darting from a nest tucked out of sight in
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Wow, it has been so long since I last posted that the formatting window and tools are completely different. My intention of posting weekly has dwindled to monthly... I admire so many artists who consistently produce - and post - amazing, fabulous work. This is what I would really like to know: do you work daily or have a routine? W hat adjustments and sacrifices do you make to ensure adequate studio time? If you're creating and living with a chronic illness, how does that impact your output? Durng the past couple of months most all my creative time was spent on a mixed-media book that incorporates a poem I wrote. It was a birthday gift for my dear friend and pastor, Woody Berry .   I used puzzle pieces (8" square) that I found in children's board books on the bargain rack a few years ago. Each was missing a piece and since I've always loved puzzle pieces I had them in my stash awaiting the right opportunity.  T he entire process was joyful - intuitive and fr
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My husband, Jim, has a new business partner and Edmon Design, founded by moi in 1990, is now Balance Creative, LLC . We've known David (Caldwell) for years - they have been contemporaries in the design/advertising community since their years at the same college. Our teenagers are close in age - our sons love metal (music) and our daughters danced at the same ballet studio for several years. David's reputation includes descriptors like integrity, talent, strength of character, humor; in short, we're thrilled to have him and 2012 started off with the kind of enthusiasm and sense of adventure that should fuel our life endeavors. David's daughter turned 14 a week ago. He'd mentioned to Jim that he'd like to give her a box like the ones he'd seen on my blog. I haven't completed a project since well before the holidays and hesitated to commit, unwilling to add another half-finished piece to the stack. As I began anyway, I realized the true impact of havi

Winning the Battle

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The end of the movie Cast Away when Tom Hanks is standing at the intersection in the middle of apparent nowhere, after the girl in the truck has explained where all the roads lead - seen it? Though a likely conclusion is inferred, the movie - like real life - doesn't finish the story for us. Though I have not shared the experience of being marooned with only a ball for company, I identify with the sense of being lost and a search that, while seemingly external, is a metaphor for the inner journey. Miles-long stretches of open roads, no clearly marked destinations... crossroads. I've spent many hours standing there often not realizing that it wasn't going to be made easy by a bolt of lightening or script writer. Sometimes having choices is as overwhelming as not having any. A studio stocked with enough supplies to go retail does not equate to art making. A stack of empty journals and cache of pens doesn't create prose. I've written poetry, short stories, essays, blog