Spoons To Get....Spoons I Have...

In a notebook in Keokuk, IA, my husband’s great-grandmother inventoried her spoon collection.  The symmetry of the columns, the loopy cursive text, the alphabetized words, the dark blue ink on the light blue lines of faded notebook paper all come together to make this more of a drawing than a document. 

from the sketchbook

hello human

Despite the fact that my dog has several things to lie on in the studio, this happens whenever I pull out canvas. 

A friend recently asked if I get the post-show blues.    Yes, I do.

Today I pick up the work at The Dixon.   When the curator emailed last week to schedule a time I jokingly asked if I could keep it up a bit longer.  I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.

As I was preparing for this show I was focused on the drop-off deadline and the opening. Beyond that I didn’t have many expectations. At every turn I have been surprised and blown away at the ripple effect it’s had. Mainly, this exhibit has given me the opportunity to show my work to a wide variety of people.  For example, one afternoon I met a University of Memphis painting class to talk about process, which is something I love to do.  (I use to have terrible fear and anxiety around putting words to all of this, but now that I have a clearer idea of what I’m trying to say, you can’t shut me up!)   When we all arrived at the museum, the space was full of middle school students huddled around different pieces with clipboards, paper, and pencils drawing MY work.  I felt a huge wave of gratitude as I stood there watching everyone chatting, pointing, and drawing. These kinds of interactions between the community and art don’t happen in galleries as much as they do in museums.   They just don’t.  So thank you, Dixon!  Thank you! Thank you!     

It’s true, I do have a bit of the  post-show blues.  Stretching a new batch of canvases helps,  as does having an adorable creature around doing adorable things.   I’m curious how the ripple effect of these past few months will show up in this new batch of work.  Surely it will.  Onward we go!

***A few days after I orginially posted this, I was stretching canvases and left the studio for a bit to come back to this silliness!***

winter texture

mapping

In order to stitch together biography and art, it meant pulling out every single photo and having a look. 

I gave my first ‘artist talk’ at The Dixon last week, power point and all.  A variety of people showed up - family, old friends, art world friends, and strangers. (Thank you!)  I basically told my story, which like most people’s is not a straight line that goes from one thing to the next, but a looping experience of going backwards, coming forward, moving sideways, coming forward, falling down, coming forward.

I explained how and why I make paintings - how my eyes take in information and how I abstract what I see.  I talked about influences, discoveries and taste.  I was admittedly nervous, especially while planning it, but once I started it felt natural and comfortable to explain my process from the beginning. 

We all have a story.

 

 

drawer - a person who engages in drawing pictures

interiors

 This book is full of rooms with details that find their way into my paintings. 

I've been admiring this room for a long time.  Considering the beige palette Pottery Barn has inflicted on us, it’s hard to imagine that in the sixties the average person (woman) was encouraged by mainstream ‘Better Homes and Gardens’ to actually live with bold color! I decided to do a painting based on this room of primaries, one that pays homage to the pleasures of this partiicular version of domesticity.

The Living Room, 36" x 36",  acrylic and graphite on canvas, 2011

Another spread in this book I keep coming back to is this yellow and gray room. 



It reminds me of Shelley Duvall's apartment in 3 Women.  

With these two interiors in mind I made a painting of yellow and gray.

Nothing Troubled Us, acrylic on canvas, 2011

The november sky with power lines.