Patti Edmon Artist

Who would have thought that two weeks in a row I'd be able to participate in the Inspire Me Thursday challenge . I didn't have a lot of studio time over the summer so photography has been the creative outlet of choice, one of my favorites, I might add. Even though my kids are older (7th and 8th grade) and don't require the kind of hands-on supervision that toddlers do, opportunities were scarce for collage, painting, altering and serious journaling. I didn't mind though, because like my kids, I'm old enough to understand how limited my time with them is; for years I've heard about the dreaded adolescent phase when they won't be caught dead at the mall with me, my opinion will carry as much weight as a grocery list, my witty sense of humor will no longer be funny but a freakish side show, only to be outdone by my lack of style, good taste and tact. Why am I so sure this is imminent? Probably a little media influence, some recall, a bit of reality. Right now I...

Earlier in the summer, I found my self in a creative slump, a flat, static stretch; feeling OK, but not great, a little down but no major depression. I’ve spent the past three years spent learning mixed media techniques and processes; I realized that now it’s time to move to the next level. Do more than arranging elements in a pleasing design on a page, or canvas. I need to find the source of the muse and, at the same time, understand the forces that subvert creativity. Like fear. Fear is a byproduct of most journeys; who, after all, isn’t afraid of face-planting at some point. My problem is that it often takes hold before I get a good footing on the path. I’d been producing work that I really liked, so naturally fear arrived like a beautiful, fair-weather friend. I found myself doubting - will you really stay, even if I turn out to be a lot less perfect than I’d led you to believe? Will you abandon me just as I get my hopes up? It’s no secret that growth involves risk, but after a few...

Just shy of two months  after the Michael deMeng workshop in Saluda, NC, I've finished my Morpheus box. It certainly did morph... We started the boxes on the second day, which, given the fatigue that accompanies this illness, I should have known would surpass my ability to make a sentence, let alone construct anything creative. But, I did get a good start.  I brought it home with a voo-doo looking mask on one side of the rotating bar, and a transparency of a little girl and clock face on the opposing side. Hmm, how was I going to connect the two wildly disparate images? After stewing for a few weeks, I realized that, though I liked both sides, one of them had to go. I had dremeled out a niche for the mask/emblem, which was cool (love the flying dust), so I hated giving that up, but, not having any related objects, out it went.Once I cleared that hurdle, I began to think of morphing, changing, seasons.   I have a very dear aunt, who has been more like a second mother, and she is pas...

My best friend and her daughter made these delightful, amazingly cool hair clips, which they plan to sell in an Etsy shop soon. They gave my daughter and I one before they left our house last Wednesday; right now they are on the final leg of their journey to Berkeley, where Karen has lived for two years. Karen has been my best friend for years - many, many years, since we were the age my daughter is now, eleven years old. The stories and adventures we've accumulated over the years could fill many a volume. It has been very difficult to live so far apart and saying "see you next time" hasn't gotten any easier. Karen came to Kentucky to retrieve her 20-year old daughter, Marina, who had been staying with us since the first of April after deciding, wisely, to start a new chapter in her life. Karen and I spent a wonderful week together before they packed up the car and set off for what has been a thankfully calm, albeit very scenic adventure. I log on to Facebook in the m...

This photo was taken on April 18, 2008, for one of my first posts on my new blog.  I had just returned from Random Arts, in Saluda, NC, a haven for mixed media artists. My family spent a week in a cabin and my visit turned into a considerable amount of time absorbing tips and techniques, the warm hospitality of Jane, Jen and Joyce and stocking up on a decent share of new supplies. When Jane asked if I had a blog and I said no, she told me I needed one. So, instead of unpacking and doing laundry and chores, I took Jane's advice. It was a beautiful spring and this photo was used for my early post called View From the Altered Attic.  I didn't have a lot of expectations for this space, just knowing that my love for photography, writing and art would blend with life's realities, abundances, gifts and, well, other stuff too. Jane was kind enough to add a link on her blog and leave my first comment. Friends and family logged on in support as I learned the ropes.  Within a few shor...

I've had a fascination with doors since the 80s, when I photographed with a medium format and printed my own black and whites. I saw this last week, while we were at the lake, and it called out to me. After I snapped the photograph - not even with my good camera, I started looking around for other subjects. As any of you photo-hounds know, there is never any shortage of subject matter, no matter where you are! After we got back, I was visiting one of my favorite blogs,   The Last Door Down the Hall , Elizabeth Golden is a truly gifted artist; she even gives away cool vintage images on a regular basis! Sure enough, there was a fabulous image of a door that I'd highly recommend viewing, along with the rest of her wonderful collection of photos and art.  While at the lake we were lucky enough to spot deer that were nice enough to stand still; I had to take the photo in low light from quite a distance. These days, maybe deer aren't altogether fascinating - my good friend in Min...

I don't normally associate red with late winter, pre-tulip season that is; but when I went for a walk around the neighborhood, I noticed a swatch here, stroke there. Then I began looking for the color red. That's how it often is; we find bits of what we didn't realize we were seeking, in places obvious and subtle.  Walking with my eyes open, awake, aware, I captured the brilliance of a red birdhouse on an otherwise drab morning. The plane of a shutter sweeping out from a window, chimes thoughtfully placed in a spot where the light catches, splattering an array of larger circles across a wood floor. We notice if we're lucky, in tune with the wonders that are too easily buried, tossed in with the unusable, leftovers, the rinds pitched in with compost that loses all color.  Days ago we emerged, blinking like groundhogs in t-shirts reveling in the glory of the long-anticipated warmth, only to wake the next morning to a carpet of fresh snow, again, clumping on buds that foll...

Today is Woody's Birthday. The Rev. Dr. Woody L. Berry is my pastor, mentor, counselor, collaborator on matters relating to art, life, the journey... and best of all, my friend.  If I hadn't wandered in to Maxwell Street Presbyterian 3-1/2 years ago, I wouldn't know Woody and that's not a scenario I like to consider. I wasn't a Presbyterian then but after my second visit I knew I'd found home. It has been a relatively short distance from visitor to member, deacon, active  membership committee participant, house writer. My frequent conversations with Woody are light posts marking the distance between the stretches that are at times, dark, reflective, sometimes lonely but always filled with meaning. He has this way, that continues to amaze me, of taking a concept that seems difficult, convoluted, maddening, and untangling it into a framework that is so easy to grasp that I can't imagine how I didn't see it in the first place. He's one of the smartes...

Thanks to Lani for sharing this amazing take on the muse, the daemon that visited ancient Greeks on their quested for creative enlightenment. Or not. Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, One Woman's Search for Everything... across Italy, India and Indonesia , examines her skyrocket journey to unexpected publishing success - over 5 million copies in print, NYT best seller list, etc. etc. and whether or not that is a good thing, a frightening thing or just frightening.  That most of us have a smidge of fear, whether of failure or success is a given; but on her site (click on the book/link) the 10 most asked questions of the award-winning fiction writer mention of fear only in the context of traveling alone safely and then, returning to the daily grind after such an amazing journey. People want to know where she found the pizza in Italy and how they might meet the healer, the medicine man, find the Ashram. Nothing about whether her heart clenches as she tightens up the final...

One last holiday post... a photo of the tin I made for my mom this Christmas. It gets so much harder every year to find creative ways to gift, but I knew for certain that she didn't have an altered Altoid tin. Inside is a photo of the two Alices - my mother and daughter, with mementos from this year's Nutcracker, about which I've already gone on and on.   Over the break I spent a few hours cleaning the Altered Attic, packed away all the tissue, ephemera, ribbon and charms that I used to make Christmas  projects. And the bonus - I can now see the surface of my art table. So now I'm heading toward the new year, which doesn't officially begin until my kids return to school on Monday. One of the moderators of my art group - 14 Secrets for a Happy Artist's Life - posted the question: What do you want to accomplish artistically this year? I thought about it for a few days before posting an answer; one of the biggest advantages of belonging to this group, which is re...

I've kept a written journal nearly all my life, dozens, no hundreds, of notebooks -  from the 89-cent spiral bound notebooks (for morning pages) to hard cover books - zillions of letters forming  a record of my life, the better and a lot of the worse parts in detail that I don't think could be any more vivid, even if I had known how to draw. I made money writing, ad copy, articles, public relations and marketing campaigns, technical copy, video scripts.   I made the leap from personal essays to writing short stories and an entire universe opened up. In search of help I wound up with teachers who are among the best in the country, the list of authors they've edited reads like a literary Who's Who; they've taught at Iowa Writer's Workshop, edited Esquire Magazine, published novels... How did I get in that program?? Naively, of course, by responding to a classified ad for editing services in Poets & Writers, sans credentials. It wasn't until after I'd s...

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...

So whatever your hands find to do you must do with all your heart there are thoughts enough To blow men's minds and tear great worlds apart There's a healing touch to find you On that broad highway somewhere To lift you high As music flying Through the angel's hair Don't ask what you are not doing Because your voice cannot command In time we will move mountains And it will come through your hands       ~ john hiatt

I photographed my new copy of Life is a Verb on the stool where my butt should be. On Patti Digh's site, 37 days , there are photos of people with the book in various settings, all demonstrating how the book is having an impact on their lives. I agree that life is a verb, must be a verb; I have always said love is a verb - didn't I have a post with that title? And, in reading the introductory pages and deeper, into the aptly titled, "Inhabit Your Story," which is  Part One,  I think that this book may indeed possess the motivation factor.  Not that motivation is missing, more like time, well, energy time  when I can create. But it's more than just time. Yesterday, when I sat and looked at what I was working on, and compared it to the projects I most want to tackle, there was a gulf, a wide yawning space between the hands functioning, pasting, cutting, painting, and the heart that wants to scream, make itself known. I love my art groups and every swap in which I...

I've long been a fan of the Quotable product line. I have a journal that says: Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over it became a butterfly.  I have a magnet with a Churchill quote: When you're going through hell, keep going. The folks there find some pretty darned compelling quotes, to be sure.  I was in a fabulously cute boutique/gallery in Louisville this past weekend and walked by the card rack and this one stopped me in my tracks. Fear of failure is the number one wrench thrown into my works all my life. And I don't think I'm alone... to some degree most all of us fear failure, or worse, fear success. So, I wonder how many of know the heart-answer to this question? And how many of us are actually living / doing whatever it is, regardless of the potential for failure? Of course there is no guarantee. Ever. But, if I'm totally honest, the ideas that float along on the fringes of my mind are going to change my life view - hopefully the way I spend my...

I don't buy tickets for the lottery, cake walks or raffles - unless it's for charity. I experience at least my fair share of good fortune, but I'm just not one of those 'lucky' people. How does one improve odds? Or is it luck or coincidence anyway... accident or fate? A bit of research reveals beliefs that are as varied as they are fascinating.   There are schools of thought that ponder whether fate can be explained by  mathematical occurrences ;  some believe that every move is guided by the hand of God, driven by fate. Then there is Deepak Chopra's  Synchrodestiny , the magic of connecting with the underlying field of infinite possibilities; the ability to see amazing potential in every moment. If, in fact, we study these convenient occurrences, we can even increase the number and quality of our daily coincidences.   From a mathematical perspective, I had fairly decent odds of winning the Fairy Girl Bird Box, a beautiful creation by Ragamuffin Gal, (she picked...

It's amazing how scrunched up inside I feel when I'm lugging around days and days worth of  pent-up creativity; busy stuff with the kids, company in town, doctor's appointments and a house that looks like  a dumpster disaster movie set.  I've tried sneaking up to the Altered Attic but no sooner do I get the cap off a jar and my kids either need of a referee or are vying for my time. But, with just two weeks left until school starts, I truly do understand that the emergency runs to Dairy Queen, various errands, discussions and debates really are more important right now.  The table can wait... there will be a window of time...  The really incredible thing is that every time my spirits sink below pool (canoeing lingo for water level), I get a distinct 'nudge' of inspiration. A couple of days ago, I logged on to a few of my favorite blogs. While reading a post on  Ragamuffin Girl I  paused when I saw my name listed as the winner of the Fairy Girl Bird Box! Even if ...

Ever since I joined Leah in the call to be  Creative Every Day  I have payed more attention to the infinite ways in which we express our creative selves aside from making art in the studio - viewing something as simple as a sign or the beauty of nature, how we arrange our surroundings (notice I didn't say 'organizing'),or finding new ways to meditate. Photography has always been my medium of choice for recording my daily walk and I'm always delighted to notice an odd detail in the otherwise ordinary.  I picked my daughter up at camp the other day and dashed into the restroom before making the hour long drive home. Not sure why I felt compelled to take a photograph of this sign, it just kinda cracked me up that such a formal word was, well, a bit worn. If it hadn't been securely attached (and at a church camp:) I might have considered it a found object and brought it home for a bit more grunging. Oh, the other sign said 'Men,' were they trying to save on lett...