Friday, January 21, 2011

Evil Quilt Studio

Yes, you did read that correctly. While researching the quilt making world I came across quilter Boo Davis, who has an attitude for design and color I love. She's an art director for Seattle Weekly, does illustration and Ozzy is her man. Her company is Quiltsryche, and Boo says she likes to make heirloom quilts just like your metal-loving, half-blind Grandma would. Here's where you can find her. Those art directors like to stay busy.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Emergency Clown Nose

It works. I meant to include this in yesterday's posting. Found it in the fabulous Curatorium on Wickenden Street in Providence. If you aren't close (believe me it's worth the drive) it can also be found online here.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

The Red Cardinal in the Backyard

One tiny red pillow in a living room. A dash of paprika. One red word on a page. The red cardinal in the January backyard. The potency of red. It's usually what I throw into a painting or layout when I'm struggling. It's the exclamation mark that very often moves me forward. So often when I'm trying to find the answer I get worn out and that's exactly when I need to shout. Sometimes just a small scream is all that's needed. Here are some lovely little shouts- Bracelet by Pia Wallen, Shoes by Asa Westlund, Red Geraniums by Andrew Wyeth and Emergency Clown Nose by Rosie Cole and Lloyd Brant.



Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Throat clearing at my new studio

I just started working in my new painting studio. Trying to make it a daily practice to get in there. To keep a rhythm going with whatever it is that's starting to pop up. The beginning is always the hardest for me. The fluorescent lights have gotta go but I love the neighborhood. Roseberry Winn Pottery, Jenna Goldberg, Beehive Kitchenware are a few peeps down the hall. The work for Trafford Restaurant is beginning again and here are the early attempts to bring together a few ideas. Not sure where it's going, but that's always the best way, yes?




Monday, January 17, 2011

Poem for Monday

 White Over Red by Mark Rothco 
I Wrote A Good Omelet
-Nikki Giovanni
 I wrote a good omelet...and ate a hot poem...
 after loving you

 Buttoned my car...and drove my coat home...in the
      rain...
 after loving you

 I goed on red...and stopped on green....floating
      somewhere in between...
 being here and being there...
 after loving you

 I rolled my bed...turned down my hair...slightly
      confused but...I don't care...
 Laid out my teeth...and gargled my gown...then I stood
      ...and laid me down...
 to sleep...
 after loving you

Friday, January 14, 2011

Sabbath Day Sans Technology

I've been experiencing a piggy high with some new technology. A new Kindle for Christmas, iphone, ipad, and I hate to, but I have to buy a new computer. So I'm researching all my options for that fat purchase. Understand I don't embrace technology quickly. It makes my brain itch to try and master it, in any way. But because "mastering" just got a whole lot easier for me, I've gone way too deep into screen time. And I miss my peeps. And walks. And baking a pie. And playing with paper. And watching pigment dissolve in water I spread on paper. And how about silence? So I'm making Sabbath day, actually that. Rest from the screens. Ernie Schenck wrote a great article in Communication Arts magazine on how technology is effecting our creativity. Really recommend you check it out, here. So this week, I looked at the beautiful emptiness of white so it makes perfect sense for those screens to go black this Sunday. Want to try it? Let me know how you make out.
The lovely image is from Kristy Hall's photostream on flickr here.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Community Print Shop Opening

Ever dream of learning how to make your own letterpress business cards? Or create a series of silk screened posters Paul Rand would give the thumbs up to? Oooo, oooo I know, wallpaper for your bedroom that will make you wake up smiling? If you're lucky to live near Providence now you can, at the incredibly well appointed and affordable AS220 community print shop. Morgan Calderini, a RISD grad, balloonist and Vista volunteer, is the resourceful, talented and tenacious artist that conceived and brought the shop to fruition.  Morgan and her team of tireless volunteers, have been working their tales off and tonight is the grand opening party in AS220's newly renovated Mercantile building from 6-8. For details on classes, schedules and what you'll see tonight go to their site here.






Images are from the top, Morgan Calderini, some of the print shop members, a recent installation of Morgan's and a sample of letterpress designed By Arley-Rose Torsone printed at the print shop. 

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Fifty Five Second Mile in the Snow

I was able to feed the girls this morning during the eye of the storm. Marilyn, my white Langshan is molting this week and there was a fresh crop of white feathers to greet me when I opened the door. Film by Paul from our studio.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Tuesday's Color Swatch

Image from Rebecca Tabor Armstrong found here.
White
You were in the beginning.
The word, the big bang, the goddess.
But do you bloom on the 
side of the mountain if there is no witness?
Are dogs the only creatures that hear your voice?
It does frighten me that you don't emit pheromones.
But some how I am attracted to you.
I wasn't at first.
You pissed me off.
You didn't have anything to say.
So not in touch with your emotions.
You were such a snob at the gallery opening.
Not one word to me.
Then I watched you work the room.
Cinabar Green Deep came out of his shell.
Naples and Mars Yellow each had epiphanies.
Permanent Yellow Green finally cooled his engines.
Mauve actually let her hair down.
And it was so cute to see tiny dab of Cerulean get chatty with you.
I apologize. I took your silence for judgement.
We're in this together, aren't we?
I can choose the open or closed door.
So now as I sit here, close my eyes,
there you are with all the possibilities.
-Alyn Carlson


Monday, January 10, 2011

Poem for Monday

White
-Pablo Neruda
Poetry is white:
it comes from the water covered with drops,
it wrinkles and piles up,
the skin of this planet must be stretched,
the sea of its whiteness must be ironed,
and the hands move and move,
the holy surfaces are smoothed out,
and that is how things are made:
hands make the world each day,
fire becomes one with steel,
linen, canvas, and cotton arrive
from the combat of the laundries,
and out of light a dove is born:
chastity returns from the foam.

-translation by Stephen Mitchell
The images can be found on the incredibly talented Ann Wood's flickr page. Her work and studio are a wonderful indication of how she navigates the laundry Neruda speaks of. Her blog and store are here.