Fall color

Seattle day

Don't you just hate it when you have to spend time in Seattle? I mean, it is always dark and dreary and always, always raining, y'know?

Ha, ha! I think that is what most of the country thinks about Seattle (and Portland, too). The fact is that Seattle, when it is good, is nearly perfect. One of the best cities in the world, in my opinion. And since it is a mere 3 hour drive from here, I jump at the chance to spend some time there. When my friend Jeri invited me to go up to Seattle for the day to see the Women Artists From the Centre Pompidou exhibit at the Seattle Art Musum it sounded great. When our friend, Beth, decided to come along as well, it became an even better adventure. Turned out that, improbably, this day in mid-November was rain-free and as gorgeous a Seattle day as you could ask for.

The exhibit was super. Here are a few of my favorites of what we saw:

The very first piece in the exhibit was this wonderful portrait by Sonia DeLauney. It may have been my favorite thing, though it would be hard to choose.

The Blue Room, by Suzanne Valadon

A wall-sized sculpture by Louse Nevelson—be still my heart!

And a lot of wonderfully witty posters and banners from the Guerilla Girls, including this one:

This is but a small sampling. It is a great show. See it if you can!

On our way up to Seattle I finally got to visit a place I have heard of for years—Shipwreck Beads in Lacy, WA. I had heard it was fabulous. I had heard they have any kind of bead you would ever want. Still, I had a mental picture of a funky little beadshop in my brain. Not this.

or this (which is less than half of the sales floor):

They have it all, from plastic and glass to precious stones and precious metals. You have to know what you want when you shop in a place like this. Browsing would be an all-day event. I don't even know why I like beads so much. I don't use them in my artwork. That has just never worked for me, but they are so pretty! I bought this small collection for a necklace, that will be fun to make, but I will likely never wear it. Or maybe I'll surprise myself and become a necklace-wearer.

This is the sidewalk out front of Shipwreck Beads. I really did love this! In case it is not clear in the photo, all those bits of color are beads imbedded in the concrete.

We had such a good time. We had a perfect lunch at a small Thai restaurant near the Art Museum and picked up wonderfully spicy, exotic Chai tea lattes at a sweet little coffee shop near the museum for our ride home and we cracked each other up with funny stories all the way up and back and were exhausted from laughing by the time we rolled into Portland last night. I hate driving in downtown Seattle, but with two good navigators even that worked out well. I feel energized and refreshed. Thanks, dear Seattle. And bigger thanks to my two crazy good friends.

And so it goes, and so it goes...

How odd, isn't it, that the quilt that I just sold this weekend, Nasturtium Dance, was a catalyst for change for me. I have been thinking about this for a couple of days now. It was such a hard quilt to make and even when it was finished it did not feel satisfying. It just signified that the time had come to make some changes. At the time it felt really overworked and like I pushed it too far, yet when I saw it hanging, on Sunday, at the show in Tillamook, I could see why someone liked it. It had a lighter feel and a happy look that I had lost sight of when I was making it. It made me wonder if all my angst had been over nothing. But no, my heart has softened for that particular piece, but I still believe I need to find a new focus. As someone said, when an artist begins to bore herself it is time for a change.

I am really working hard on some new ideas. You know about my stripes and over dyed shirting fabrics and they are coming together in architectural motifs. I have always been drawn the whole idea of architecture—the built environment. I am especially intrigued by ancient architecture that stands as a reminder of the past and outlived the people who conceived it. It just occurred to me that I am using old clothing, that once was worn by people unknown to me, to create my impressions of old buildings, built by people lost, for the most part, to the past. I am struggling a bit, but learning a great deal as I go. What I have made so far is not as free and loose as I am hoping for, but it is a serious step toward simplifying and finding the essence of the forms. The small piece is finished. I will photograph it and post it soon. I am now working on a large piece that I have shown some bits of.

Here is a small section before I began to quilt it. My hope was that the quilting would help to soften and unify the disparate fabrics and hard lines.

Here it is with stitching added. I think it helps to pull it together and add the kind of texture that gives it a bit of patina.

The main thing is, though, that I am learning and having ideas for how I will make the next one different. There has been a lot of discussion on the internet lists about why one would create a series of related work. I think I am seeing exactly how that works. I am already working on the next one—on paper and in my head. Hopefully each will be better than the last.

I was so surprised to learn that some of my internet friends that I most identify with, are fans of Amanda Palmer, who I just discovered and wrote about in Saturday's post.  Jane Davila offered a link to one of  Amanda Palmer's blog posts, which is a work of beauty and wisdom and vast entertainment. If you've ever doubted yourself (who hasn't??) or been stung by others' expectations or disappointments, or just want to read something beautifully written, you might like this as much as I did.

I am going to Seattle tomorrow to see art and spend time with two favorite friends. Wish us a day without pouring rain—

Rhythm and Hues

Ray and I drove over to Tillamook, Oregon, near the coast, today for the artists' reception at the Latimer Quilt and Textile Center. It was the opening of our High Fiber Diet Show, Rhythm and Hues. It's about an hour and a half drive, over the coast range, from Portland to Tillamook and today it was gray and rainy all the way and pouring rain in Tillamook. And, honestly, the dreary, dark day just made our exhibit look all the better! It was so lovely to walk into all that warmth and color.

Elizabeth Bamberger, Mary Arnold and Bonnie Bucknam with Bonnie's 

gorgeous work on the stand at the left behind them. I would liked to have seen a background behind it that offered more contrast, but it was still stunning.

My piece, "Rockin' and Rollin'", Gerrie Congdon's "Crop Circles" and my "Nasturtium Dance."

Do you see the little red dot next to my nasturtiums? That means it sold! Woo hoo! I met the woman who bought it and she was charming—a weaver. In fact she is a retired professor who taught weaving at the University of Idaho for many years. The U of I is Ray's alma mater so they hit it off. She taught there when Ray was a student there, but as a math major, he never took a weaving class. They discussed the need for weavers to know a little math and how frequently they don't!

Chris Brown has been working on a series of fabric sculpture horses. This small one, sitting on a chair is quite striking and very whimsical.

If you are on the Oregon Coast any time between now and January 5, stop in and take a look at the exhibit, as well as the rest of the center.

Radio, studio, ukelele, etc....

Last week my friend Reva posted the video above on Facebook and said she had heard it on NPR. I did not hear it on NPR, which I listen too almost obsessively, but the song pleased me inordinantly and I loved its perversity and it made me think about my youthful occupation as a camp counselor and the red ukelele that was one of my camp counseling implements, or "wand of thunder" as the song says.

So, fast forward a couple of days and I am in my studio, cutting fabric and listening to NPR, to my new favorite program, Q.  I came in a little late to the program and the first thing I heard was this incredible, weird, heartbreaking song. The Bed Song. I stopped cutting. I sat down and I listened and wondered who this person/band was. Turns out it is Amanda Palmer, the ukelele anthem woman. Who also turns out to be late of the Dresden Dolls, whose video Coin Operated Boy amazed me on YouTube a couple years ago. Now I finally know her name and I have spent a lot of time on YouTube watching and listening to her mesmerizing music. I know this music won't resonate with everyone. Maybe you won't be as captivated, but if you are you will enjoy a YouTube tour. I especially recommend her ukelele version of Radiohead's Creep, strange as that may sound. So there it is. This is what happens when you listen to NPR all day. Public Broadcasting—it's not just about Big Bird and I am grateful for it.

The radio, it powers me onward. Here is a peek at what I have been working on today.

Friday, finally

It has been one of those weeks when many small things all landed together to make it a big and busy week. Three meetings, family birthdays, a stint gallery sitting for the Visual Arts Showcase, childcare, and, of course, that election. (You probably heard about it.) There was so much shrillness around the election this time. Ranting, raving, crazy talk. Aren't you glad it's over? I sure am.

At last Friday came and I had nothing on my agenda. Sofia did not have school today, so I invited her to go with me to the Children's Museum and see the "Chagall for Children" exhibit. She is good company and never talks politics. We love the Children's' Museum so much we became "grandparent members." Since Sofia started Kindergarten we haven't been able to have as many museum dates.

As part of the Chagall exhibit the museum has set up a painting studio for the children.

Sofia has watched her Dad paint, so she feels quite comfortable with a brush. Look at that lovely, confident, fluid line.

I admire her economy of line and easy, graceful curves.

After we had hit all the favorite features of the Children's' Museum we went for a nice lunch at Burgerville, which is one of our favorites. (I really do love Burgerville—) All in all, a lovely end to a busy week.

Beaverton Visual Arts Showcase

Now that I live near Beaverton I decided I needed to check into its cultural resources, so I entered two pieces in the juried, annual Visual Arts Showcase. One was selected, which was pretty cool. About 80 pieces of art were juried in from more than 500 entries. The opening was last night.

I don't think there is a way to photograph a gallery opening in an original way. These photos look just like a million that I have seen on other artists' blogs—people standing around with wine glasses and little napkins, blocking your view of the art. But, really, trust me, it was nice! It is in the gallery at the Beaverton Library, which is a pretty great library.

My little piece was one of only three accepted fiber entries. Here is my piece, Verdant, in a nice prominant location as you enter. The little framed piece to the left is one of the other fiber pieces—a small felted work.

This piece is by my friend, Kathie Kerler and the third of the three fiber offerings.

It was too crowded to get very many good photos of the art, but there were some wonderful pieces there. If you are in the area I recommend dropping by to see the show. It will be hanging through November. I will be docenting on Wednesday afternoon.

Here is the standard photo of art patrons enjoying the reception. Recognize anyone? No, me neither.

Today was a quiet, exceptionally warm day here in Oregon. Nice to have that extra hour, eh? I spent it in the studio, where I got a good start on a new piece. Bigger than the last.

Huevos Rancheros

My son Andy's birthday was this week and after everyone checked their busy schedules it was decided that Saturday brunch was when our family could all get together and celebrate. This seemed to me the perfect opportunity to try out my new tortilla press, so I made Huevos Rancheros.

Making the tortillas was a piece of cake. Three ingredients: masa (corn flour that has been treated with lime), salt and water. Mix together until it is about the consistency of playdough, then divide into balls about the size of a pingpong ball. I started pressing between two sheets of waxed paper, but they stuck a little, so I switched to plastic freezer wrap and that worked like a charm.

I baked them on my cast iron griddle and then flipped them into a tortilla warmer to keep them warm. It all went really fast and I soon had 20-some tortillas.

For the huevos, I put three tortillas on each pre-warmed plate (they are smaller than the store-bought ones), spooned a little hot ranchero sauce (made from the last of our tomatoes) over the tortillas, topped with two fried eggs per plate, a blob of refried beans, a couple slices of avocado, a sprinkle of shredded cheese and more ranchero sauce. Served bacon on the side because everything is better with bacon. And by the way have you tried Trader Joe's applewood smoked, uncured bacon? It is really, really good!

Enjoyed by all! They were really delicious, if I may say so myself. I'll use a little more sauce the next time I make these. Happy Birthday, Andy. This could become our new birthday meal.

I'm rich!

A box arrived in my mail this afternoon jammed tight with plaid, striped and checked fabrics. It was from my internet friend Jeannie Evans. Unbelievably generous.

Great stuff. I will have fun using it! Thank you, Jeannie. The internet is an amazing place.

I have been quilting the piece I have been working on.

I

I really like what happens when the quilting lines cross the fabric lines at different angles. You get that soft bumpety texture that just subtly disrupts the geometry of the woven stripes.

Boo!

Ray's greenhouse, which sits near the road always looks a little spooky in the evening when the light is on inside, so Ray thought it needed some Halloween decor. I found a bat pattern and Sofia, Ray and I cut our bats several days ago. I think he has higher aspirations for next year—spiders and black cats and such. It really is the perfect canvas for spooky silhouette art, don't you think?

It finally feels like fall with the rain and cooler temps. The leaves are finally turning.

I love the contrast of that frosty blue-green moss that covers the tree branches, against the gold of the leaves.

Above is our burning bush. It is a major disappointment to me. I envisioned a burning bush like this one.  Ours is more like a blushing bush. Just sort of pinkish.

I was quite eager to get to the studio this morning and get more done on the stripey piece. Overnight I decided the first thing I would do would be to replace the very bright orange piece that really stood out when I saw it on my monitor last night. When I looked at again I changed my mind. It really isn't as hot as it looks in the photos. Something about a photo, especially a cell phone photo that really makes certain colors show up nearly neon. Here is a better version, taken with my good camera, but still a little hotter than real life. Weird.

Another closeup. Someone wanted to see how I am stitching it all down.

I am almost ready to start quilting. That will change it even more.

Hope you all had a fun Halloween. We did not get a single trick or treater. We never do, but I know if I don't buy candy that will be the year they all show up. So now we have a bowl of peanut butter cups to eat. Even my grandchildren were too pooped to trick or treat. Marco was home sick all day today and Sofia partied at school and after school care so hard that she fell asleep in the car on the way home.

I cut it

The fabric. All that shirt fabric that I have been fileting and dyeing and fondling and folding.

For the past two days I have been cutting and sticking (with a glue stick) my stripes onto an interfacing background in preparation for sewing it all together. Surprise. I am not fusing this. I am turning edges and going all out to be experimental and new (to me).

Progress so far.  Hold off on suggestions, please. I am working my way through this and there is still a bunch of stuff to go on here—windows and such, and I see some problematic areas that I need to address. That's why I used a glue stick. I can easily pull it off and replace it with something else before I get to stitching it all down. The sky is stitched. I had to see if my idea of how to stitch it was going to work. This is a fairly small piece and I am seeing that bigger pieces would be great to work on in this way. Lots of pretty teeny pieces in this. But this piece is a tryout.

Some of my goals in trying something different are:

• to simplify
• to loosen up
• to try colors that are not strictly natural, but chosen for aesthetic reasons
• to choose a subject that is personal and explore it

This is not for a show or to satisfy a theme or a size. It is just for me. I'm kind of excited.

Miles to go.

Remember this?

This was the canvas that our STASH group painted in July when we met at Gerrie's. As you can see it was quite thoroughly painted! When it was dry Gerrie cut it into 6 equal pieces. At our next meeting we each randomly picked one of the pieces and our challenge has been to make something using our piece. My piece was the lower right hand corner as you see the canvas above. It looked like this:

It had possibilities, but lacked a certain cohesiveness. OK, let's be honest. It was pretty gross. However, our rules allowed that we could add more paint, so I did. Then I made a large tote bag and incorporated it into the bag as a big side pocket/decorative panel on one side.

I started by painting most of the white bits of canvas that showed through yellow which helped to unify it. Then I obliterated that disturbing mouth-like image in the lower left. Taking a cue from the existing white dots down the right side, I added more white paint to the sun-like area.

I seem to find myself carrying rolled up quilts to meetings and such on a regular basis and I needed a taller tote bag than I had. So that was my inspiration for the size and shape. I made it from a heavy nylon fabric and used nylon webbing for the handles that wrap under the bag and secure the edges of the pocket. When I got it finished it was pretty floppy and shapeless, so I am in the process of adding a lining with batting fused to it, which I can already see gives it more shape and body. And that canvas panel? To my great surprise, I love it!

Saturday at home

It has been a rainy, rainy day today and really a perfectly lovely day. A day at home, after a long week of busy-ness and lots to do and places to go. It felt good to be at home. I love being with my grandchildren and with my friends, and then I really love my quiet time at home.

We started out the day with housework. Ray put the music on and we got busy for a couple hours taking care of the spaces that have been neglected for the past couple of weeks. Floors and bathrooms were high on the priority list. I vacuumed crumbs out of the sofa and dusted and tossed out papers and receipts and old magazines and gathered up all the shoes I have left all over the house (yes, I do that. It's a bad habit.) and stowed them in the closet. Ray cleaned the floors and vacuumed all the pine needles up. I wish I could figure out how to keep from tracking them in, but it seems to be impossible. It is a family tradition, going way back—Saturday morning music and housework. We call it the blitz.

Then I went to the studio.

At last I started making a plan for using some of my shirting fabrics that I have been fiddling with. I pulled lights, darks and mediums. I drew up my plan. I can't wait to start cutting fabric.

Outside the rain came down and pattered against the skylights. By late afternoon it was getting dark and I headed back to the house to start dinner. It was a soup day, without a doubt.

Tortellini, kale, Italian sausage soup. Mmmmmm. A glass of wine. Of course. Crusty, seedy bread.

After such a busy, full week, I spent today exactly where I really wanted to be. Home.