Patti Edmon Artist

So what makes art fine, anyway? Is it fine art photography, like the panoramic photo published by my friend (and recent groom) Jeff Rogers, that appears on the coffee table book, Kentucky Wide ? (for which I wrote the forward:) What makes art, for that matter... Is it my son marching with the Thriller ensemble, channeling his passion in rehearsed and spontaneous rhythm through his drumsticks? Or the grace and amazing beauty of my daughter, who has been a ballerina for 7 of her 11 years... I admit it may have been a bit petty to even post the cartoon below, and Jane's comment is beyond perfect. But after living for years as an 'invisible' artist, with a painter who has a BFA in Fine Art (and earns our living at our graphic design business ), I was curious to see what kind, if any, response it elicited.  According to my dictionary an artist is "a person who produces paintings or drawings as a profession or hobby; a person who practices any of the various creative arts, s...

I love the first days of fall, when the nights are chilly and the mornings crisp, the mums and summer blossoms that linger as the trees begin their transformation. I love walking around the neighborhood and discovering all the different ways people express their sentiments about the changing season. I love Third Street Stuff , which now carries my art pieces (yay), always has a warm and inviting atmosphere and a coffee shop that serves freshly roasted brew and a kind of cake - I don't know the name of it but it should be called instant addiction. And pumpkin chai. I also love Hendrick, who makes my pumpkin chai, latte or whatever I'm drinking that day. His smile, like his attitude and his spirit is, well, the best word I can think of to describe him is real. A deep and positive word and a hug from Hendrick have made more than one of my days. I love enchiladas. Especially when my mother makes them and my dad drops them off.  She has been sending me dinner once a week, knowing th...

This is one of my favorite photos, taken during a heavenly late-September vacation in Vermont, a place where one can easily pause in the midst of sublime beauty. If only I could time travel... Found the video at the bottom of this post on Sherry's blog,  Esprit d' Art ,  she'd found it on another blogger's site, who'd gotten from another blog... at any rate, it's well worth the watch.  How often do we take time out to really think... about what might be going on with people we encounter on a casual basis, whether or not they cause us a delay? One of the benefits of living with chronic illness is moving at a slower pace than many people. Over time, it results in living in the moment, paying more attention to the small stuff and taking in more detail. On a bad day it's like standing on the ground while the rest of the world whirls by on a merry-go-round; no stops, no tickets. Invisible illness becomes invisibility. After three years I've learned to appreci...

Every time I do a swap, I find that I'm trying something new, which isn't that amazing since I have only belonged to art groups for a couple  years:) From inchies, Artist's Coping Kits, to ATCs, fairy jars and, last week on Art-e-Zine, trash outside the box.  Like many of the projects I've so enjoyed, there was a lot of freedom, the only requirement being the box. So, I found a heart shaped yard sale cast off and went to work. I got out wAy too much - paper, tissue, scraps, trims, beads and found items, then I sat and stared. I tried planning, holding things against the surface to see how they blended, if the colors matched. That got me absolutely nowhere. I glued a layer of paper on all the outer surfaces, ending up with purples and greens. After some serious stewing and procrastinating, I finally found that switch inside that turns off the monkey brain and lets the hands work as though unattached from the circuits that try to control, er, perfect the process. I began ...

Pulled in too many directions, kids having trouble adjusting to their new school, the dog is sick, my arthritis flaring.... make for a tentative foundation of courage and strength, faith. A couple of weeks in this state is enough for me - hard to focus on keeping the pets fed and getting dinner made, let alone create the art for the swaps I've committed to... experiment with the techniques I've been putting aside forever, finding a deep, sacred space where I can connect the inner self with the universe, filling journal pages with wild abandon. I found a fabulous blog - an artist who expresses her daily experiences with amazing imagery that is, well, quite enviable. See what you think -  visit Karin at Beyond Words.  I love to dabble with photographs - find it very calming. Not quite the blank slate the painter approaches, tabula rasa, but an inviting image to explore and get lost in; starting with a perfectly lovely flower in shades of pale pinks and soft greens, I've begu...

The Altered Attic has been quiet... it's difficult to mix up a batch of uszzh* in the random, tiny chunks of time I've had to myself, let alone create an altered trading card or other piece of art. Ahhh, summer. Kids. The old routine goes out the door and no new one takes its place.  I love summer; no more waking to the annoying beep of the alarm clock at 6:30, sweeping my sleepy kids out the door at 7:30, for several more weeks anyway. I feel better when I sleep an extra hour or more and I realize how much of my kids' lives I miss when they're gone all day. It's fun doing the things we don't ever have time for during the school year and not feeling like we're in a hurry. But I also realize how much entertainment school provides - my daughter misses her friends and I've been hearing "I'm bored" more than I'd like (frankly, once would suffice). They aren't old enough to go off alone, but too old to play with the hose and sidewalk cha...

A glance at the cover of any women's magazine reveals how obsessed we are with our bodies, more specifically, the size and shape of our bodies. Each month a bounty of new pointers to guide us in the war to conquer the bulge, shave the fat, eat without starving, exercise without breaking a sweat. The magazines don't matter much to me, note that I referred to the covers. In my case, medication that has delivered much needed health benefits also packed on an 40 extra pounds in less than two years. Prednisone has eased this roller coaster ride of life with an auto-immune disorder. It has reduced inflammation and provided energy to meet deadlines, extra fuel for major holidays, travel and busy times, like my stints as a ballet mom. But after three years, I can no longer ignore the fact that the side effects outnumber the benefits. So, I think I am finally brave enough to start tapering off, hope my adrenal glands haven't atrophied and will jump start, begin producing appropriate...