My art is in it!

Here's some exciting news:
My art is published!
I answered Patti Digh's call for art for her new book, “Four Word Self Help - Simple Wisdom for Complex Lives”, and my art is in it!

The publisher describes it as “Pithy, provocative, poignant advice on a variety of self-help topics—in four well-chosen words”.

Four words. Yes, even I can finish off these chapters.

And the art! What a treasure! This is no skinny collection where the cover boards are thicker than the actual body text of the book. There's plenty of these little four-word morsels to savor, with longer essays added throughout the mix.

You must get yourself a copy. Must.

My copy arrived and I tore the packaging open and flipped through the pages and went “Woo hoo!”.

J peered over at me, moseyed over to my side of the couch and flipped my hand so he could see the cover. He exclaimed, “Oh, that Patti D… DigHh person! D-, um, Dig-HH?”
Me: “No, 'Die'. Patti 'Die'.”
Him: “Oh, right. Okay.”
Me: (Losing patience and pointing very animatedly)
“Look! At! My! Painting!!”
Him: (eyes getting big) “Ooooooo.”

It's not so hard to imagine that scene, right? All the same, I insist that you reenact it yourself.

Once you have your very own copy of this lovely book in your hands, turn to page xi and let out a good “Woo hoo!” for me.

Woo Hoo!

All the colors of the rainbow

So, where was I?

I spent some time over the last few weeks thinking about my art supplies. I enjoy reading other artists' comments about materials, and particularly, the colors they use in their palettes. Since I recently taught a course that included color theory, I thought I'd try simplifying my backpack and carry a paint kit outfitted with just the three primaries. So I did test swatches of my reds, blues and yellows and came up with a combination that I carried with me for a few weeks. I kept a muted set in a smaller Altoids tin (on the left side of the painting below):

20100528_SketchStuff Click to see this photo's flickr page

This is what I learned:
–  I'm too impatient to mix up my greens and purples from these primaries. For the painting above, I didn't mix the greens. Oh, heck, no.
–  I like my colors; I really love the cool and warm and neutral versions of my primaries, and I like the different versions of secondary and tertiary colors too. Why did I ever think I could be happy with just three, muted primary colors?
–  I don't paint with orange. Like, ever.

Another thing I realized is that I don't squeeze enough paint out of the tubes, trying to not waste any of it. I end up having to squeegee out pigment from my barely-loaded brushes onto my pages, or end up with washed out colors after the paint has dried on my notebook pages. Lots of water, but just a little bit of pigment. Ugh.

So after not-too-much thinking, I decided to give those tubes all a good squeeze and go on a 'Use it up' campaign. Paint isn't going to do much good being conserved, languishing and drying out unused in tubes sitting in a bin next to the dryer. Squeeze as much life and color out of what you have!

Sounds good, huh?

I ran into a hiccup in this plan, when I finally realized that my honey-based paints were too goopy for me. I'm messy to begin with, yes?, and although I love how soft and buttery the M Graham watercolor paints are, I started to realize that many of them stayed moist enough to be a bit of a challenge for me just to store. I’d try to squeeze out a sample size from a tube and end up with stringy threads of paint (think: honey) leading from my palette, across my table and smeared on my fingers. The kicker, though, was when I realized that some colors actually absorb moisture from the air in humid environments and then they get even MORE runny. I discovered this over Christmas in Hawaii, a big puddle of cobalt green dripping from my paint kit. Egh.

I read through a few blogs of artists and read carefully the part that would have alerted me to this problem and tried a few more brands.

You're thinking, “Hey! Buying new paints?! How is that 'Using it Up'?!”

[I'm ignoring you]

So, I looked at color charts on my computer for a few more weeks, peered at other artists’ suggestions and loitered in front of the paint rack in the student store as if it were the frozen entrée aisle at the market, and slowly filled in my collection with Daniel Smith and Schmincke tubes that dry nicely in my travel paint kits so I can toss them into my backpack, and they re-wet nicely.

Yeesh, what an ordeal.

The good thing is that I'm set to go and have plenty of paint to go there with.

20100616_palette Click to see this photo's flickr page

I’m going to use up the honey-based paints, and the not-so lightfast paints as well. I was a little concerned about this – paints that will fade unusually quickly. The only nonpermanent expression of art that I could think of that seemed worthwhile was, well, food, but in this case, I figure: What the heck: Use it up.

I have papers and paints and want to go ahead and use them. If you’ve gotten this far, here’s the deal. I was going to post the ‘Use It Up’ (UIU) series and have people let me know if/which ones they wanted and send them (the little paintings, not the people) off to new, good homes. But, lying up late at night, I thought, what if people have stopped reading my blog to the point where no one will be watching for my UIU art? The horror!

[Do I over-think things much? Give me a sec to mull over that.]

So, whatever. This is what I’m going to do: I’m going to make art and send it off to people whose mailing addresses I have, that I owe some art to. And ask for people to let me know if they're interested. If I have a list, I figure I’ll feel more obligated to stick with this whole ‘Use It Up’ campaign, which, in my head, was more like ‘Use It Up, then Give it Away’, anyway. If you (you, in Canada and Scotland and Germany. Yes, you) want to help encourage this, email me your mailing address. wendeedesign [at] yahoo [dot] com.

I’m planning to give life and those tubes a nice healthy squeeze. Anyone game?

Not bad, just unfinished

This is from earlier in the spring, at Descanso. I was never happy with how this little postcard-sized painted sketch had ended up at the end of that morning. I was putzing around this weekend and decided to try and deepen some of the colors, then added some ink linework. I'm happier with it now. I mean, happier with it enough to share.
I have a hard time throwing out some of the bad; hoping that at some point I can rework it, make it better. Does that make me a hopeless optimist, or a hopeless packrat?

Okay, don’t answer that.

The creative process takes practice to work with, and so hard to explain.

A designer friend of mine went on an interview and sent me her thoughts on it. She said, I think, knowing that it’s something that I would cover in my classes, that one thing she wishes that we’d learned in (design) school is how to better manage conversations with other disciplines, especially those that think more linearly, like engineers, business people. We’re accustomed to communicating our ideas in drawings and words, but forget how very different our language can be. Ideas like “emotion”, “brainstorm”, “concepts”, “experience” – they’re so basic ideas to me that I can’t imagine that someone else can’t grasp what I’m trying to convey. I forget, sometimes, the blank, not-getting-it-at-all stares. “Emotion”? I took a good long pause and am taking this to heart; this term, my students and I will be practicing not only conveying who we are, but trying to build bridges as designers, helping others understand our process, our value.

It underscores for me how much I treasure being able to connect with other creative, visual people. I’ll bet if I say that I’m going to get, say, new carpeting (Karen goes, “Oooo! Finally! Remodeling!”), and say to you that I’m thinking of a medium grey, that if continue and say it’s going to be about a … 70% cool grey, that a lot of you would be nodding, “Ooooh. Yes I see”. I like being able to communicate that kind of subtle preciseness. We try so hard to make our work really meaningful and really spot-on, and sometimes it connects with people, for reasons they can’t quite understand or explain. That’s so gratifying to see. Sometimes people can’t see what the heck you’re trying to do, and no matter how you try to explain it, neither you nor your work makes a connection. Argh.

Everybody wants to be heard; whatever the language. I’d forgotten what a special language it is that the artistic speak and feel. When my guy talks about the golden sunlight of the morning, and how it’s so soft and clear, bringing out the texture of the mountains, my knees go weak and I melt.

Oh, and we’re not actually getting new carpet, btw.

Been doing

a little bit of this.


paint sketches of Ken's waterlillies

Last week I browsed through an art store that a friend suggested and bought issues of 'Watercolor Magic' and a bottle of Iridescent Medium...

Which can only mean that now ... I can paint shiny things. ;)

Mustard blossoms

Karen posted a painting of mustard-covered hills a little bit ago.

I had to smile, because I've been thinking of the mustard blossoms that are due any day now and of a hike I went on last year, and yet another little doodle that has been waiting to come out for some time...




He said, "I've never seen the mustard grow so high".
And in that moment I knew that if I weren't with him when the hills were filled with mustard blossoms this spring, my heart would ache to see them ...

So I've been doing little studies of mustard blossoms, you see...

Watercolor crayons

Whatever it is that I’m supposed to be doing, clearly, I am not. [sigh] You know, if I were really procrastinating, I’d be doing something that I normally don’t do, like … dust! Right now, I’m … just finishing up my first cuppa coffee for the day and, um, dawdling.

I treated myself to some time outside to sketch and paint yesterday. It seems like forever since I drew outside, and could tell that that’s what my psyche really needed. I opened my travel watercolor kit and found a paper napkin that I’d used the last time I painted outside.

From Yosemite.

In November.

Yes, it’s been far too long since I’ve just dabbled with some color. So you can imagine that it felt really good to get out and paint.





Descanso Tea House (the roof, as seen from below the bridge)
Prismacolor sketch with Caran d’Ache watersoluble crayons

Artsy note:
I also took along some water-soluble crayons, a set of 30 made by Caran d’Ache, Neocolor 2. I’ve had the set for a while and love them. Worked dry, they are just so yummy in their application of color, such rich pigment. Worked and blended with water, the color intensifies so nicely. I scribble blocks of color onto another sheet of paper that I use as a palette, or pick up pigment directly from the crayons with my brush. This seems to be a nice work-around for me, to work outside - - I’m too messy and disorganized to have gotten around to schlepping my tubes of watercolor with me, and I’m not quite crazy about the travel kit watercolor pans… I have trouble getting very intense color with them. The only thing about the crayons is I might have to worry about leaving them in the car on those long, hot summer days here in Southern California.

I’m happy with how these turned out.

I’ll be trying to get my class started tonight with graphic markers, and grabbed some unconventional (in the world of product design, yes) sample objects for them to work from. I’ll have them set up little groupings to draw, looking at scale and proportion, perspective, look at the shadows, shade and highlights. My goal is to have them complete nice, accurate line drawings that they’ll use as underlays for monochromatic pencil renderings and also markers. They’ve been wanting to work with markers. I’m not sure they’ve gotten the sense of how wonderful it feels to just draw, to lay down pigment onto a sheet of paper with just a colored pencil, to work with the expressive quality of their lines. I don’t think they’ve gotten that, but at this point I’d be happy if we can accomplish clean, accurate line drawings. And then move onward!
I fully intend to sketch with them tonight, these little compositions, so in theory, I’ll have a few of my own sketches to noodle with when I get home, late late tonight. It’ll be fun to see.

Trust me.

Stay tuned.

Pear Honey Cranberry Sauce

Oh, that’s a nice, um… pear?

Pear Honey Cranberry Sauce
1/2 cup water

1/2 cup sugar
about 2 cups canned pears (about two 15oz cans), drained (I use the reserved juice for part of the water, above), and diced, medium
12oz fresh or thawed frozen cranberries
1 cup honey (Oh my. Lots and lots of sweetness in this one. Who's counting calories? Heck, you're having turkey and pumpkin pie with this as well, aren't you?)
2 tsp (or to taste) fresh lemon juice
1 tsp grated lemon zest

Heat the water and sugar to boiling. Stir and cook until the sugar is dissolved.
Add the drained pears and mix.

Stir in the frozen cranberries and honey. Mmm.
Cook, stirring, until pretty much most of the cranberries pop and the syrup thickens a little. Do not overcook – the syrup will continue to thicken as it cools.

Cool.
Stir in the lemon juice and lemon zest.
Refrigerate (overnight is good) and serve cold.

Store up to one week.
===

For you, Jane.

I even had a glass (most of) of white zin with it (Jane's influence). I figured it was safer than coffee, hot chocolate or water. Because while I’d be in trouble with the coffee, chocolate or water, I’d never, ever reach over and swish my brush in a wine glass by mistake.

[Ahem]

Okay.

So that felt good.

Somewhere, I think I can hear Karen clapping with joy.

Happiness is

Peanut butter and Huckleberry jam! Mmmm.


So who was that whiny, cranky person that wandered through here last night? It’s like they were seriously under-caffeinated or hadn’t eaten normal food in days or something. Yeesh! [Shrug]

A note on Huckleberry:
We were driving through Big Sky Country, going way North (yeah, past Santa Barbara) this summer, and I started to see road signs for Huckleberry Ice Cream.
I perked up (just as you just did, Tony) and went “Huckleberry?”

J thought it was the promise of ice cream that did it.

You know those things from your childhood that you hear about but never get to experience first-hand? They’re familiar, but you just don’t quite understand. So, given this tidbit of huckleberry info (courtesy wikipedia) …

In the Pacific Northwest of North America, the huckleberry plant can be found in mid-alpine regions, often on the lower slopes of mountains. The plant grows best in damp, acidic soil. Under optimal conditions, huckleberries can be as much as 1.5-2 m high, and usually ripen in mid-to-late summer; later at higher elevations.

The Huckleberry is the state fruit of Idaho.

... How does a school in Hawaii (no state fruit) have a cheer that involves Huckleberries? I’m guessing there aren’t many indigenous huckleberry plants in the Aloha State.

Have I asked this already?

I think the cheer goes way, way back. I’m thinking, hoping, before the cartoon characters, at the very least. I can’t quite find the history on it.

Anyway, so there I was, in Montana, in the drizzly grey cold, swinging my feet back and forth (short legs), contentedly scarfing down huckleberry ice cream with my guy, idly thinking,

“Strawberry Shortcake,
Huckleberry Pie!

V - I - C - T - O - R - Y !

Are we in it?
Well I guess … “

“Mmmmm. So this is Huckleberry. Mmmmm.”


Getting back to painting. Did some research on what huckleberries look like.


p.s.
I found this online:
“Hawaii offers perhaps the most unique blend of culinary history and flavors of all the 50 states. Geography, people, history and evolving local tastes combine to create a cuisine that merits detailed study.”

'Merits Detailed Study'

Mmmmmm.

Thanksgiving in Yosemite

She said, swinging her feet back and forth, "You know what I want to see?"
He said, "No, what?"
"I'd like to see Yosemite. With a light dusting of snow. Someday. And the Grand Canyon, too. With snow. [wistfully] Someday..."
"It'd be cold, you know."
"I know. That's what I have you for."
"Hmmm..."

Well, it was chilly, but not quite cold enough for any snow to 'stick'. The first few days were a bit grey and dreary, and the colors of the mountains and trees were just flat. It was a bit disappointing in that respect ... nothing we really felt compelled to photograph or paint, but the mild weather meant that we could spend our days outside without having to worry about being too hot or too cold. We got in one nice long hike ("No really! I think we just finished the worst part of the hike! We're almost to the lookout point!" "Hmmm. I've heard that before.."). The next afternoon we spent biking all around the valley floor, with long, long stretches of road through the trees, all to ourselves. Oh boy, how great is that?

We woke up on Thanksgiving morning, when we'd planned to drive back home, to a day that finally promised blue skies. We decided to stay another day and got in one last, perfect day. J got in his nice long hike (vertical gain), and I got to paint and ramble along (very flat), traipsing along the river, looking at the rocks in the water, the leaves, and all the gnarly trees along the way.

We'll have to cook up our Thanksgiving dinner some other time, but it was a great week to get away from it all, be outside with the conifers, say hello to all that majestic granite, and breathe in all that crisp, fresh air.

The 'light dusting of snow' ... will have to wait for another trip.



Lots of hiking and walking ...



... and a little bit of painting ...


Click this image ...

...for the rest of the photo set!

Cobb Estate

Karen and Robin have posted great paintings/sketches from their visits to the Cobb Estate in Altadena. I finally had a chance to go see. It's rustic, overgrown, bright, with great views no matter what direction you face. What survives of the pavement is great for hiking, walking your pooch, mountain-biking, drawing and painting.

We all agree: The spring, with everything abloom, will be well worth a return trip ...
Oh, so lucky we live in SoCal.

Sitting still

From our last trek up Mount Baldy.



The weekend before, I bunged up my ankle (the bad one), and decided that perhaps hiking on uneven, loose rocks so soon wouldn't be such a good idea. J went for his hike, and I hung out at the visitor center at Mount Baldy, where they have a bit of an exhibit trail with historic dwellings...



And a campfire pit (no fire, though).



The weather was a little chilly that weekend; tough to twirl my brush to get the bristles to be nice and pointy, to get in nice clean thin lines. J and I decided that I'll need to get fingerless gloves, so I can keep my hands warm, and still paint as the weather cools more and more.

This watercolor is the first in my watercolor moleskine notebook. You know how things are, when the blank page stares at you, daring you to make that first mark? Better make it a good one. So, the same applies to a nice, new, clean sketchbook. You want that first page to be something really good. So you never start in on it, because you want to wait until something so great inspires you to paint wonderful things worthy of that new notebook.

I finally got tired of trying to do watercolor paintings on the regular sketchbook. I'd tried pre-treating a page each with water and alcohol (rubbing, not the Heineken variety). You might notice in the painting of Jan's kitchen, that there are white blotches. The ivory color actually lifted off, and the page texture got all scratchy - ick! So, I'm not going to force that issue anymore; I'll sketch in the sketchbook and paint in the paintbook. And besides, the watercolor paper really takes the paint the way you want it to. Why keep fighting it?

Jan's kitchen

Complete with the mysterious, floating, humongous mango.
Things that make you go, "Hmmmm". :)

Escape

Another early morning dealing with unannounced construction guys. The details aren’t worth relaying anymore. Suffice to say, the kitchen reconstruction lingers endlessly on. Long story -> short: I went off to paint for a few hours with Karen.

We wandered (see Descanso) and settled on a spot with great views in every direction in the middle of the rose garden. It was a glorious, sunny, cloudless day, and the gardens were lush with vibrant color.



We drew and painted (smeared paint around), and caught up with each other. As the sun dropped lower and lower, the sunlight bathed the trees, the leaves and blooms with a warm, golden glow. The shadows grew longer and longer, and took on an even more lazy purple tint.



Here are my sketches and a few postcard paintings:

I started with some watercolor postcards. I want to play with the media more, to better control the intensity of the pigment and to start working on larger paper. I went back over these with w/c pencils later to work in darker colors.




I’ve been doing this modified contour-drawing thing - - if you quilt, it’s roughly in the spirit of continuous-line quilting. I’ve been playing with it for a little while, trying to get different textures to read. I think it’s starting to make a little more sense in this drawing; yet another gnarly tree!

<

This is the last sketch I did. The watercolors frustrated me a bit, and I wanted to be able to more clearly and succinctly depict some of the textures and work in some darker values to show more dramatic contrast.




Here's the updated Descanso 10-2006 flickr photos

It was a great afternoon, such a perfect escape from the insanity, even if for just a few hours. We should all remember to get out, enjoy the sunshine and all the beauty that Fall has to offer.

Carnations for breakfast

I’m finally trying to do more painting, bit by bit. I got these carnations (you thought they were daffodils, huh?) last week, intending to paint them, and now they’re starting to wither a bit. I’d sit and have breakfast with them, and think, “Gee, couldn’t have picked flowers with fewer petals, huh? Maybe something a little easier to paint?” [sigh]
The flowers are about spent, and I figured I’d better just sit down and paint. The paintings, like the flowers, look much more charming from across the room. You could get the same effect by squinting at your screen. Or stepping back about five feet (besides, you shouldn't be sitting so close to your moniter, to begin with ;) )

These are sketches #2 and #3. Like anything else, it all works better when you’ve kept up practice, or at least have warmed up. We say it to ourselves over and over, and yet are amazed when we actually experience and see it in our work. Watching my students sketch incessantly during class, I realize how much drawing we did in school. I miss being that practiced and know that my wrist and elbow aren't as loose and confident as they could or should be. Yet, I also can tell that my style has evolved, and I'm happier with where it is today, than back in school.

As an aside, though, the frustrating thing to know is that most of this work, even the early phases, is done digitally, less by hand. I think, "Doh". The demons of doubt and insecurity, I tell you, they never quite go away.

Um, yeah. That's the sketching that I'd do for work, which I post very little of here; It's not like you've missed something.

Anyway, I had an extra piece of paper, and you know, the beach just called. There’s something to be said for letting go and not getting involved in super-detailed sketches before drawing.



I really need to do more of this.

Another Gnarly Tree

.. this one at Descanso. Two of my sketchy-painting buddies couldn’t make the Plein Air session, and I missed them, not just because their company is always good, but also because I so enjoy seeing their work (and if you follow along closely to this blog, I trust you do, too). But, you know, these are busy, busy women! Hopefully next time, you two – I hope you’re both doing well.

And wait, how is it that I’m painting, and not working, huh? [These voices, these incessant voices. OMG, where do they come from? Do they ever stop?] Hey, sometimes, you have to do what you need to, to soothe your soul. Sometimes being artful does the trick. Sometimes, chocolate. Sometimes, a beer. And when times are tough, heck, it might take all three, and then some.

But maybe I just wanted to take some time and get in a little bit of painting.
[Yeah, that’s it]

There might have been a light shower earlier in the morning, and the skies were cloudy, threatening more rain. But the gardens were bright with blooms, and sections of the garden were decorated to celebrate a warm and vivid Fall season! We were surprised to see any flowers at all, expecting that the summer heat might have done them in. But – wow, the bountiful colors!



I’ve been playing with trying out scribbly interpretations of foliage – trying to get down shorthand gestures and outlines of the overall mass, rather than blocks of color, or individual leaves, or ... ? I’m not sure I’m at a point where any particular scribble is successful in accurately describing what kind of plant I’m drawing (I’m shooting for at least a little bit of reality), but it’s kind of fun, in a lazy, don’t-wanna-think-too-much sort of way.

I’ve started in on a Moleskine sketchbook, rather than just an un-ruled notebook. The sketchbook paper is thicker, so my hope was to do more painting work in the new book and not having to worry about the sheets curling and warping after being painted on. Alas! I’d forgotten how unfriendly the Moleskine paper can be to water-based media. Nix Moleskine Warm-up Drawing # 1. Doh!

I’ve also been carrying along some watercolor paper pads, to entice myself to play more with watercolors (both opaque and transparent). I carry around a lot of art stuff, actually, to entice myself to just do more of it. I schlep it around, but every once in a while, it’s good to have just the right thing, to settle in and play with whatever media fits my mood at that one, inspired moment. So, I finally whipped out the watercolor postcard pad and played with that a bit. It’s nice, you know, because it’s just a 3x5” card, and not a big, demanding blank sheet. I love how Karen captures the gestures of plants; it’s inspiring. So here, I’m trying to get just a little section of a larger plant grouping; so many colors, textures … You know, "Oh, just one more dab of yellow..."


And I’ve still got some of the brown cardstock with little flecks - - it’s been fun to draw on; I’ve got the gnarly tree thing down, I think. I meant to do something else other than the tree, but it was just fun. The three of us that were there commented on how great it is to look up into the leaves of a tree, to see the layers of overlapping leaves, the sky, and the sunlight. It would be great fun to do a more graphical illustration, of the leaves and overlapping shapes and colors, all on a background of sky blue. Right, so that’s what I was thinking, when I drew Gnarly Tree #2. And when I was done, I thought, “Oh great. sigh. Another gnarly tree. Gee..”

So, I was feeling inspired to capture more of what we were actually seeing and feeling and did another little postcard watercolor.

If you can’t quite make it out, it’s the sky, with not-so threatening clouds, and a bit of the tree overhead. See it now? I kind of like the idea of seeing overlapping patterns, without having to see (or draw) the whole tree. Hey, where’d those leaves come from? Does it matter? I’m having fun with this idea, so I’m thinking this is something I’m going to play with for a bit. Watch this space for more … trunkless … leaves in the sky.

My photos and the paintings from the day are here: