Running Scales

Anyone who ever took piano or voice lessons or did sports competitively knows about warming up. On the piano, you play scales, do re mi. In the pool, you swim a few slow laps to get the blood moving. You limber up, you shake yourself out and hone your focus.

Lately, art projects are on my mind. I may be gearing up for something big, but for now, I'm running scales, stretching. To do this, I'm exploring the perimeters of a strictly limited tool—using simple Snapchat tools and my fingertip on the screen of my phone to draw and write over photographs. Only, for the most part, I start with photographs of almost pure darkness, to create a blank, mostly black canvas.

With no eraser, no way to alter the thickness of a line, and very limited colors (no black or white, no options for tints and shades, just a short slider of bright rainbow colors) I'm making little compositions. Then I tag them with simple messages, and put them out into the world.

Find me on Snapchat (Amy K / amyKstudio) to see these as I post them, or check out the growing collection on Facebook.

Five Things

The creative juices are flowing, and I expect I'll be posting more here soon. In the meantime, here are five things I've made during my long absence from this blog:

1. Spark*Letter, my email love letter to the world. I write one when the ideas are ripe and I have time, which works out to be about four times per year. You can see the spring issue here (and subscribe so you won't miss the next one).

"The Web"

2. Leggings for Society6. I call my line "Happy Legs." I've got four designs so far, and plan to make more.

3. Podcasts— I'm recording one-on-one conversations on Hello Climate Change, as a tool to help me (and hopefully others) think about this overwhelming topic in a less overwhelming way. My goal is a hundred conversations. I'm about a third of the way in, learning and gaining insight every time. (Subscribe on iTunes or wherever you like to get your podcasts.)

4. Kaleidos— Using Quartz Composer, I made a tool that uses my computer's camera, sin waves, ASCII text, and a glitch triggered by sound in the environment to make these kaleidoscopic artworks.

   

5. Photo collections, four ongoing visual journals on Facebook: Walking Shots, Things on Top of Things (AKA Surfaces), Millie, and Sinks.

Gratitude

If you're looking for a good, no-pressure warm-up exercise for getting the creative juices flowing, and also for giving yourself a gentle attitude adjustment, get a stack of 5x7" paper and if you're lucky, a roll of "thank you" stickers from some long ago grocery store, plus a bunch of other scraps and pens and crayons maybe, a pair of scissors and a glue stick, and make some one-off thank you cards. Here's a few from my latest batch. Click on the horizontal ones to see them full-size..

One more here...

Uplift

(Click on images to see them with clearer, crisper, and probably bigger)

Life has been crazy busy and intense lately. I was diagnosed with breast cancer just over a month ago and have been quite busy to say the least. I've got a little breather right now as I recover from surgery and prepare for chemotherapy. Last night I managed to pull out some materials to put together a collage.

Needless to say, my life, not to mention my body, is permanently altered. (More on this on my other blog.) I wondered if this might show up in my art.

Upside-down, this collage is Chicken Little's biggest fear: the sky is most definitely falling. But that's not the way I intended this piece. I've tried it at every angle but came back to the original. And now it has a title. Uplift.

9" x 12"  mixed media collage

Gorge

My latest: gouache and ink, 18" x 24".

Hope Springs Eternal

For almost twenty years, I've held a picture of the life I most desire as an artist and writer, living close to nature's rhythms, the rhythms of daily household life. I imagine a life in which I can devote several hours each day to domestic chores and outdoor reverie, as many hours to setting my inspirations into words and image, with time and energy yet to embrace the considerable challenge of sharing my work with the world.

Here I am, living on a dead end road in a town that is 40% land preserve, with a garden and a dog and a supportive spouse, and just enough financial stability to say that, while certainly risky, nothing stands in my way but fears and insecurities. Part of my hesitation is about money, part of it is about turning away potential clients (why is it scary to say no?), part of it is that internal ego-crushing critic, chanting who do you think you are? in the unfriendliest tone

But I am soon to turn 40, and I can't let these fears and insecurities call the shots any longer.

When designer Stefan Sagmeister decided to close his studio to give himself a year off for creative explorations, his first bold move was to tell everyone. That way, he reports in his October, 2009 TED talk, The Power of Time Off, he wouldn't be able to chicken out.

This morning at the gym, a friend told me about her beloved assistant of twenty years, who died suddenly this week, just a month shy of retirement.

There are no guarantees.

Yesterday my neighbor and I walked our dogs together, and saw this pond along the way. I believe these patterns exist always in this pond, formed as underground springs push up toward the surface. Thanks to just the right combination of cold and snow, the invisible is revealed.

I was so inspired, I couldn't wait to get home so I could return immediately with my camera.

While shooting, I decided it was time to admit it: I am plotting a special year, beginning with my birthday in early March. I have already begun turning down work. I have my own underground springs, a million and one half-dreamed and partially completed projects that I will no longer push aside. Life is now!

American Thrift

One of the art associations I belong to stages a yearly "6 x 6 Show." Each participant may submit up to six pieces, all six-inch square including frames. Here's a sneak preview of my six collages, hope you like:

SOLD

Practicalities for Practicing Artists

Ruby-Throated
Gouache, watercolor and ink on heavyweight bristol paper, 12 x 9"

A few resources to pass along:

Sales Tips for Artists: podcast with accompanying PDF study guides, on selling artwork to the interior design market, contracting with galleries, pricing your work, and more. Dick Harrison is like a friendly, patient uncle, selfless and extremely informative. This is easy listening, folks.

Art Print Issues: blog focusing on the art print market by Barney Davey, who also wrote a book on the subject.

Mine Stephanie Levy's blog, Artists Who Blog for a lay-of-the-land on artists promoting themselves (and inspiring and informing others) on the web.

Flow

SOLD

Lessons in Flow
Hand-Marbelized papers, each approx. 19" x 12.5"
$35 each including shipping

***

Lately I've been waking up with bigger dreams.

For instance, I keep thinking of the studio space I want to grow into, the imaginary addition on my home where I can really spread out, where I can set up a sewing machine and a huge collage and a great big canvas all at the same time, without having to dismantle one project in order to accommodate another. A space with a very long table and a flock of comfortable stools, with built-in storage for art works and supplies, a deep sink. A space where I can teach classes and lead workshops and hold open studios to my heart's content.

I find myself thinking about how much I could accomplish with hired help. I plot out an imaginary schedule for an imaginary assistant: two mornings a week, Monday and Wednesday? Tuesday and Thursday? I think how great it would be to have that built-in structure to my work life. To know that I can deposit certain tasks in someone else's inbox, that they will get done. To be able to write a decent paycheck (what a nice thing to be able to do for another person!) and turn my focus on the stockpile of projects cluttering my brain.

And then, a moment later, all I want is a two-hour walk in the woods, or to wander out to the garden and plant more lettuce, mulch the garlic. I look around and once again, I'm satisfied with my spare-bedroom studio, my quiet, obsessive work habits, my U-shaped desk arrangement where all I have to do is swivel my chair and I'm designing a web site, writing a book proposal, answering emails, answering the phone; swivel again, and I'm making a collage, a painting, a journal entry.

Who knows where all of this might lead. Perhaps I will begin to see a path toward these new visions. After all, I have just the person in mind for the assistantship. And my next-door neighbor does have a lovely barn/apartment, once a potter's studio, now unrented, a glorified shed for her kayak and bicycle.

But it's not time yet for any big moves. Though that time may come sooner than I imagine, I've got enough on my plate for now.

In the meantime, I will continue to allow myself to dream, while going with the flow, but at the same time, experimenting with creating my own flow. And appreciating the fact that there are limits to how many projects I can entertain in a given day.

Worry is Creative

.dotstring, collage on bristol paper, 9 x 12", on view at WindhamARTS until April 23rd

I'm going to be on the radio this coming Tuesday, April 14th, on the award-winning Wayne Norman Show on WILI 1400AM, beginning at 7:15 in the morning, until 8:30 or 9. (If you miss it, or if you're not in the area, the audio will be posted later in the day here.)

I am nervous. I didn't pursue this at all. It's overwhelming to note that the splash made by my art show opening last Friday was strong enough to bring about such an opportunity.



Opportunity, according to Miriam Webster, is:
1: a favorable juncture of circumstances
2: a good chance for advancement or progress

The surface opportunity is clear: perhaps an appearance on a popular local radio show will bring a few more fans of my art, maybe a potential design client or two.

But the core opportunity lies smack-dab inside my worry. In the fact that I will be called upon to talk about myself and my work.

This is what scares me. Right now, my thoughts are like furniture fresh off the moving truck, crowded into the center of a room. I know all the pieces, but I haven't arranged them in any coherent order.

I suppose I could spin an elaborate image of myself bumbling and stumbling, trying too hard, flailing, choking. Or I could just feel the fear (yikes!) and apply my creative energy to preparation. Which is exactly what I plan to do.

What a gift a deadline is! Come Tuesday morning, I'll be able to articulate who I am, what I do, what moves me to do the work that I do. I'll know myself better. And knowing myself better is the key to BEING myself better.

So yes, I'm nervous. But I'm also looking forward to it.

The Gaping Void: Preparing for an Art Show

Today I'm taking stock of my work for a solo show I have coming up in April - counting, listing, touching up, scanning, and packaging my paintings and collages to ship off to the framer. It feels amazing, and a little frightening, to send all of these coddled babies out into the world.

But there's no better motivation to make more art, in my opinion, than to create space for it. Nothing is more energizing to the creative spirit than a great big gaping void!

And there's no better motivation to get more shows, it seems to me, than to have a body of work ready to hang at a moment's notice.

Not only that, but once you've written one show proposal, writing another will feel a lot easier.

For a lowdown on what a proposal entails (or might entail, depending on the venue), listen to Alyson Stanfield's podcast on the subject - it's less than five minutes long and brimming with information - quick and dirty.

To break it down even further, step-by-step, I highly recommend Cay Lang's inspirational and informational book Taking the Leap: Building a Career as a Visual Artist. Probably the most worthy investment I've made in this area.

The paintings on this post are all freshly scanned 17" x 14", gouache and ink on heavyweight bristol paper. Click on the images to see them bigger. If you're interested in purchasing information for any of these, email me directly. I'd love to hear from you.

Tune in for more reflections on show-prep – I'll bebringing you along for the ride.