ceremony

Off to Delaware this weekend to do the memorial service for Mom. She was especially irreligious in a family not at all pious. As a consequence, whenever these events that require ceremony arise, I'm somewhat at a loss as to what to do. Fortunately, this time there's a minister in the family who has volunteered to take the lead and, having married into this family, understands our -- let's call it "informal" -- tendencies.

So we'll play k.d. lang and Tony Bennett singing "What a Wonderful World" rather than having an organ drone "Amazing Grace" and I made copies of a bookmark that Mom had on the refrigerator for as long as I can remember to give the attendees instead of those creepy memorial cards. What else is in store, I don't know. Maybe my aunt will say something. Maybe I will. Maybe not. Then there will be "family barbecue on the lawn" with my cousins and their young children who enliven everything.

Then home again to continue to wonder if it makes sense to keep this big, old, creaky house that my grandfather built, to wonder what to do with all this new found freedom I'm alleged to have, and to wonder if there are still dreams to be coaxed into the light so that I can believe in the magic of them. Good thing it's a long drive.

still good questions

Whilst clearing off my cutting/ironing table in preparation for working (see below), I again encountered the source for a post I did on March 9. It felt like a post from a long time ago, so I was surprised to see it was a few short months, just a quarter of a year, ago. These were good questions then, they're even better questions now:
-How do we find renewed meaning and how does this express itself in our life's work?
-How do we discover new maps, provisions, and travel partners?
-What is calling us and how do we discern our calling?
The workshop for which these questions are the foundation is in August. Hmmmm . . .

Digging back, I realized that, also in March, I overlooked the one-year (March 5, 2008) anniversary for the blog. I'll have to light some candles so I can blow them out. All together now --deeeeeeeeeeep breath.

Here's the cutting table -- a 2' x 4' "table top" from Home Depot, half cutting mat, half ironing pad, with "custom" storage below.

The board is raised up on flannel-wrapped bricks, set on a computer desk, with a filing cabinet under all. The not-at-all-attractive cat food boxes are actually the perfect size for bins o' stuff that I use all the time (fusible, precut batts, fabric scraps, cutting tools). The boxes can be made made more attractive; meanwhile, I can feel smug about "going green."

This arrangement is a rehearsal to see if the configuration would work in something more permanent. The jury's mostly out on that one, but it's been a while since I've done any work so I'll see how it goes as I work on the monthly-meeting-group swap. I remember liking having the shelves above.

And here's one of my characteristically vibrant palettes, under consideration as background for the swap pieces.

Excelsior, my friends. Ever upward.

Last Sunday, I went a little north to the Katonah Art Museum to see the exhibition “Lichtenstein in Process.” (That's the cover for the catalog, left.) I’ve never been a fan of Lichtenstein (hereafter “RL”), but the KAM always has something a little off-beat and interesting so I trust that if they’re presenting something, it’s more than worth 45 minutes of driving and the modest admission. And, well, “wow” is about all I have to say.

True to the title, the exhibition features the process the artist used to create his paintings. There are sequences of sketch-drawing-collage for paintings (and one finished painting) and some of the pieces have clippings of the source material as well. The walls have interesting quotations from RL – one that particularly struck me is: “All abstract artists try to tell you that what they do comes from nature, and I’m always trying to tell you that what I do is completely abstract.”

It’s an interesting insight into the mechanics of his work, and into the thought process of a very thoughtful artist. I don't know much about art -- and oftentimes don't know what I like, especially with contemporary art -- but the more I look into the 20th-century folks, the more I understand that it really does help to know what they were thinking about and what they were after in the work. RL's Benday dots, for example, "refer" to chiaroscuro without being chiaroscuro, they're kind of a painting of chiaroscuro rather than a use of it in support of another element in the image. And the minimalist in me is very intrigued with how stripped-down the images are.

If you’re in the neighborhood, go. The show is up until June 28. If you’re not in the neighborhood, the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation web site has posted an interesting interview with RL by Michael Kimmelman, excerpted from his book, PORTRAITS, Talking with Artists at the Met, The Modern, The Louvre and Elsewhere.

coming back

My SAQA group is doing an exchange in which we each create a set of small pieces (4"x4") to swap. I was fooling with the idea of mandala a little while ago and thought it might make a good foundation for this exchange. In one of my art books, there is the suggestion that, when sketching mandala, you could draw in one area, then turn the page a quarter turn and draw in the next area. This is proving fruitful -- sometimes the smallest thing gives the best result.

I've been carrying around one of those top-spiral bound steno books with grid paper. I like symmetry, so I like having the grid underlaying the sketching. My Blogger "skills" -- which were minimal to begin with -- are rusty, but here are some of what I have so far, rendered in smudgy pencil. I think they may be stitched on a white ground, with shades of white and extremely pastel colors and some silver. I may have mentioned before that white is my favorite color. . .

encouragement...

is happily accepted from any quarter. My newspaper horoscope today reads:
"Leave the past behind, Leo. So much good is coming up that you should not dwell on what has come to pass. Look toward the future, don't look back. You are entering a new phase."

Indeed.
And, yes, I am looking forward, as Mom wanted me to do.
"I want you to be calm and happy" is one of the last things she said to me.
There is an interesting group project afoot in my SAQA group, so there will be art soon and postings soon(ish) thereafter.

Thanks so much to everyone who has posted or emailed. I was hesitant to share this news in this way, but the kindness of your responses has been greatly appreciated.

entered into rest

distracted

Only two deaths in the past three weeks, and only one that involved going back and forth and back forth half a dozen times to the police. (Not a criminal death, just a solitary one and that always provokes a maddening bureaucracy.) And -- on an unrelated note -- I have begun to fear that my 83-year-old mother, who has a variety of physical limitations, is now also losing her mind. This is not a metaphor. And my favorite aunt's cancer is back. Whoever said that life is "nasty, brutish, and short" got it mostly right. Only sometimes it's not short enough.

I'm not sure when I'll be able to post again -- which I suppose is a mercy to y'all considering that I have little to say that isn't limned with despair. I've been thinking of closing down the blog entirely, but I'm going to wait to decide.