70 days till I leave for the Grand Canyon and I finally finished my painting from last year's residency at the Petrified National Park. I didn't quite make the 1 year deadline but hopefully will be forgiven. I'm still working on Alaska paintings so haven't really gotten ramped up on the PEFO work, but when I do I'd like to work big, maybe a wall sized 5-panel panorama of "The Most Beautiful Place in the World"
Other than that, I'm still struggling with trying to do too many things with too little time. Maybe I should make a list and see what I can eliminate. . .
(ok, I started the list but it got too overwhelming, so I will eliminate making a list, that's one thing crossed off anyway)
Sometimes I think I should give up blogging (and if I have any readers they are justified in thinking "I thought she DID give up blogging") but I can't quite do it yet. So I will try to update more often, because otherwise what's the point? Which brings me to this post... an excuse to upload my latest painting and do a little whining.
Sometimes what is supposed to be funny is what can really get under your skin. Which is why I had to laugh (so I wouldn't cry) over this story in the Newspaper of Record, The Onion. Find the thing you're most passionate about, then do it. Funny, isn't it. >sob<
Ironically, read it just after I had gotten home from work, turned on my studio stove, made a pot of coffee, got out my painting clothes, sat down for a few minutes, turned off the heat in my studio, poured the coffee down the drain and put my clothes away, too exhausted to paint.
As I look over my last few entries, I get the sense that this artist is floundering a bit. Not from any lack of ideas and ambition, but maybe from too many directions I want to explore.
Well, if I can't straighten out my life, at least I can straighten out my brushes. I have an embarrassment of riches in the brush department, but can't seem to retire many of them. Just wish I held them in my hand more often.
But, looking on the bright side, only 112 more days till I leave for the Grand Canyon. I've been hitting the gym religiously for the last few months to get in shape for hiking, since, unlike the mostly horizontal Petrified Forest, most of the GC hiking is up and down. It seems to be working, and in 112 days, I should be ready. I know I am mentally!
In my spare time, I've decided to start a blog that can be a meeting place for the many artists who have done residencies in the National Parks and Forests. I'm shielding the eyes of the Blogger logo as I type this, but I'm doing it on Wordpress, which is somewhat of a learning curve, but interesting. It's still in development, or as we geeks like to say, Beta. As soon as I work out the glitches I'll post the link, and if you have been an AIR, or are just interested in the program, I'd love to have you check it out!
That bridge I was going to cross if I was accepted for a residency at Denali? Well, I probably won't be crossing it this year. I heard the decision much sooner than I expected (which thankfully cuts short the suspense) but unfortunately I was not a finalist. I did, however, make 2nd runner up. The bronze medal, sort of. Which is actually quite flattering considering how few are chosen. And I was very appreciative of the personal note and nice words on my work. So, since I don't imagine two people will be crazy enough to turn down the residency, I will try again next year, with more Alaska paintings. And of course, I have the Grand Canyon residency to look forward to, which isn't too shabby!
Which is probably it for the exhibits for awhile, but I'm glad to have gotten some studio time in recently, especially as it is still warm enough to work without preheating my studio for two hours. The insulation is going up little by little though, and I hope to make workable this winter, as I need to paint like a maniac for about a year for two planned exhibits in the fall of 2013.
I'm also going to heat up the griddle for experimentation in encaustic. I've long been interested in learning the archaic hot wax technique so finally broke down and took a class at RISD. My first piece was, how shall I say it, a total mess, failure—a piece so ugly that passing bees made a wide berth around it and denied any part in supplying the beeswax for the monstrosity. So I have high hopes for the medium. Especially as I am thinking of using it in a multimedia painting with my disappointing piece from a previous glass casting class. I rise to the challenge!
And even more inspiring, with my slick little yellow kayak, just purchased used 2 weeks ago, I can go anywhere and do anything! As long as I have at least 6 inches of water, and no small craft warning. I can even go back to kayaking the fiords of Alaska, if the next application I send out for another Voices of the Wilderness residency is accepted. Just try keeping me out of Alaska!
Dear Artist,
...A thank you for submitting...
....A bit about how many worthy applications were received and how difficult it was to pick just a few...
....An appreciation of the work that went into submitting an application...
"rejected" I muttered to my husband.
But then, in the next sentence, the letter took an unexpected twist. The word "congratulations" jumped out at me and I realized I was accepted as one of the 2013 artists in residence at Grand Canyon National Park!
I had visited the north rim on a tourist-vacation-loop, breezing by
Bryce, Zion, North Rim, Canyon de Chelly, Monument Valley and Petrified
Forest in two weeks, so as you might imagine didn't really have time to really explore any one of the parks, but this residency allows an artist to stay for 3 weeks in a little cabin 1/4 mile from the North Rim of the canyon.
PHOTO/NPS
Not content with my good fortune, I've also greedily sent out an application, once again, for Denali National Park. How I'll manage it if I get both...well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Since I've been rejected many times from Denali, I certainly am not packing my Xtratufs yet, but if I apply EVERY year they may accept me just to stop the pestering.
Speaking of Xtratufs, I was thrilled that the wilderness rangers I hung out with in Alaska were in RI long enough for us to be able to get together for dinner. One of the Rangers who is also an accomplished clay artist, Barbara Lydon, surprised me with this super cool Xtratuf ceramic vase! It will take an honored place on my mantle to remind me of my good Alaskan friends and my kayaking adventure.
Back on the smaller corner of the planet, I'm in another group show at the URI Feinstein Gallery called Knowledge is Power. I went over the the Shepard Building at lunch to check it out and there is some really interesting work there, it is definitely worth a look
The Opening reception is on Gallery Night, October 18, from 5-9pm, and it's up until October 31.
Science Central during the 2011 Bioblitz in Scituate
Once again this year the fine folks at the Rhode Island Natural History Survey are inviting an Artist Team to join the naturalists and scientists during their Bioblitz survey of all manner of species, plants, animals, bugs, birds, etc. found in a specific area during a 24 hour period. The 2012 Bioblitz will be held on the lovely island of Jamestown and will take place from noon on June 8th to noon on the 9th. If there are any artists out there who want to join the art team this year let me know, or go to our Facebook page and "like" it and I'll keep you informed.
Last year we had a great team, camping and exploring in the meadows and woodlands of the Scituate Reservoir property. (To read about it, click here). We teamed up for the first time with the RISD Nature Lab, and hope to do so again this year. We also have an exhibit of artwork created as a result of the Bioblitz at the Warwick Art Museum from June 19-30, featuring work from previous Bioblitz's. In fact, since work won't have to be delivered until about a week after this year's blitz, if you work fast your 2012 work could part of the exhibit too.
In addition to work inspired by our own "backyard" the exhibit will include work from artists who have done residencies in our National Park as part of the Artist in Residence program. If you have done one of these residencies and want to exhibit, please get in touch with me. If you want to know more about the program, I'm planning to give a talk about the AIR program in the National Parks and my Alaska residency in particular as part of the exhibit.
So even though it might seem cold and dreary outside, life will be stirring before we know it, and we'll be there to count it!
Looks like the government didn't shut down after all, but at this point it might have been a relief to put it out of its misery. It insists on limping on, however, so rangers will be paid, parks will be open, and I'm still packing for my National Forest Artist Residency in Prince William Sound. I'm also practicing blogging from my iPhone, but am already cheating by editing it on my laptop. In theory I should be able to take photos from my iPhone, write my blog on that tiny little keyboard and post through BlogPress. It actually seemed to work for as long as I could stand working that way, and a download of a Photoshop Lite app solve the photo rotation problem, so I'm good to go. I just need a wifi or verizon connection. That should be no problem in Anchorage, but out in "the field" is another story. So if I suddenly go silent just assume I'm having wild adventures, following grizzly tracks and swimming with killer whales, far, far from civilization. Or 60 miles south of Anchorage. Same thing.
The weather is looking a bit chilly up Whittier way, which is where we launch from, not to mention rainy. But I was warned that it is the rainy season so I'm just going to assume it will be misty and mysterious, which may be another way of saying wet, cold and miserable, but sounds a lot better. Then if the sun breaks through it will be a bonus, and the sun will have plenty of time to peek out, since it won't go down till about 10:30.
Unfortunately I can't be totally excited about going, since life has a way of throwing curve balls and I don't always remember to duck. My dear father had a bit of a health setback last week and I'm going to feel nervous about going so far from the family. Not that I don't have dozens of wonderful loving and responsible siblings, but I still feel guilty leaving. He's doing better everyday though and has lots of support so I know he will be in good hands. I'll just bombard him with postcards and regale him with Alaska lore when I get back. I hear Alaska is loaded with lore.
This is an Alaskan glacier painting by Stephen McGowen, master painter of North Dartmouth. Thanks to his generosity it is in a place of honor in my hall. He gave it to me to bring me luck with my Alaskan residency applications, and it seems like it did the trick! I'm posting it in the hopes that its power can keep the government from defaulting, resulting in the padlocking all our national parks and canceling my residency on Prince William Sound. (The downside to posting it is I've now raised the bar for glacier paintings awfully high.)
But until I get to the state of Alaska I'm going to be in the state of denial and continue to prepare for my adventure, which is only 2 weeks away. Yes it is, the government will NOT shut down.
Last weekend I spent another 5 hours practicing paddling and testing my waterproof camera case in the Great Swamp in Kingston. So far so good. I managed to keep my camera dry, and get out and over a beaver dam with no mishaps other than almost putting my hand on a 2ft. water snake (they bite, but not venomously, the little wimps) who swam away like the Loch Ness monster, giving me the evil snake eyes.
I practiced paddling as fast as I could (or as I like to call it, keeping-up-with -forest-ranger-speed) navigating up winding swampy rivers, paddling sideways and backwards, and pretending I didn't really have to use a bathroom for the last 4 hours of the trip. Wonder where the bathrooms are on Prince William Sound?
I'm really liking kayaking though, and feel silly that I didn't try it 20 years ago. I just might have to think about getting one of my own next year.
I've been wanting to write this post for a week, but I've almost been afraid to talk about it, because it's just such an amazing turn of events and rather daunting. But remember how I've been applying for years to get an artist residency in Denali National Park in Alaska and came tantalizingly close but ultimately was rejected? And remember how I discovered a new one this year in the Ford's Terror Wilderness in the Tongass National Forest near Juneau and was rejected from that one as well? You don't? Well what luck, there's links! But seriously, a few weeks after getting a rejection letter from Tongass, while on the Bioblitz, I got a phone call from the ranger in charge of the program saying she had transferred to Prince William Sound (just south of Anchorage) and wanted to start up another program there, and ASKED ME TO BE THEIR FIRST ARTIST-IN-RESIDENCE!
This residency is similar to the Tongass program but will start out in Girdwood, AK (above) in August, where I and a Ranger from the National Forest Service will gear up for a 7-day tour of Prince William Sound, traveling by sea kayak and camping next to glaciers. The list of gear they sent me goes to 2-pages and includes wool sweaters, Xtratuf boots, waterproof pants, jacket, gloves and camera case. Did I mention it was kind of daunting? Did I mention I've only been in a kayak (and not the sea kind) a couple of times? Did I mention that I've only been camping twice in recent memory, and both times in the congenial society of the Bioblitz? Did I mention I just had knee surgery? Well, I certainly didn't bring any of that up in my application! But at least I'm grateful I've been hitting the gym pretty regular-like since January (one of those rare resolutions that stuck), and I'm going to take a sea-kayak lesson soon, and they do say "Extensive backcountry/kayaking experience is not necessary for this residency, just capability". I do think I will be capable of doing anything they tell me to, as long as they have the expertise, and you don't find much better expertise than the National Forest Service Rangers! I'll find out more about it when the ranger who will be in charge of me gets back from "the field" next week. I'll need to spend a few days in Anchorage too, so if anyone has recommendations on cheap but decent hotels I could use some!
In all my residencies I've really enjoyed interacting with the rangers and have respected their knowledge of the environments they work in and their efforts to preserve it, dealing with so many issues that the public isn't even aware of most of the time, but this is the first time I will actually spent the entire residency working so closely with them. I can't believe what a great opportunity this is!
Ok...repaired and rejected. My torn menicus (go ahead, ask me about knee anatomy) has been neatened up and my knee should be unwrapped and crutches tossed aside soon, but I'm still not going to Juneau Alaska this year to climb glaciers and hang out with the rangers as artist in residence. I know, I've already got the AIR in Petrified National Forest this September, but now I'm getting greedy and want TWO residencies a year. And the Tongass National Forest residency sounded really awesome.
But there's always next year to try again, and my rejection letter was one of the more thoughtful ones I've received. It actually referred specifically to my application, which feels better than the generic rejections that tell "Dear artist " how tough the decision was and how many wonderful artists applied. So I will try again, even though I already have an application in for 2012 at Grand Canyon National Park. But I can do two a year, can't I?
So, I can concentrate on looking forward to the incredible color and cool rock formations of the Painted Desert even though September seems so far away. As any New Englander knows though, our precious summer goes by in a flash, and while I wait to go to Arizona I'm gearing up for a more local exploration at the Rhode Island Natural History Survey's Bioblitz. We've got a great response from artists of all media, and are teaming up with RISD's nature lab to offer things like microscopes and flower presses just for the artists, as well as expertise in specimen gathering. We also have some members of RISDs natural science illustration program, so it should be very interesting to meet this year's team. And next year we have an exhibit scheduled at the Warwick Art Museum to showcase the work of the 2011 Bioblitz artists.
Once I can stand at my easel again I'm close to finishing some paintings I've been working on in the studio as part of my next series which I hope to post soon. Until then, I may just hobble into my backyard to take advantage of the first dry spring day we've had in about 2 weeks and do a little "plane ear" painting.
Looks like I'll be hiking in the desert later this summer! I came into work the day after I wrote the last post to find a message on my phone telling me I had been chosen as one of the artists-in-residence in the Petrified National Forest in Arizona!
In 2004 my husband and I made the typical tourist stop at the park while exploring the southwest. We had just enough time to check out some petrified logs, petroglyphs and the incredible painted desert before being chased off the joint by an aggressive dust devil. This time I'll get to live for two weeks in one of these lovely adobe houses near the historic Painted Desert Inn, which has not functioned as an inn since the 70's, but is open to the public and is a fascinating historic building.
I'm hoping to post journal entries daily from the park, since I believe I can get internet access but I don't know that my journal can compete with the one I discovered by a previous artist in residence, June Underwood. So thank you June for giving me a glimpse of what I can anticipate during my weeks there.
Now I'm only waiting to hear from the other residency I've applied for in the Ford's Terror Wilderness area of the Tongass National Forest in Juneau, Alaska. I usually don't attempt two residencies in a summer but this one sounds too cool to resist. The artist actually travels into the wilderness, via kayak, small boat or even sea plane with a ranger for 10 days, then pitches camp on a glacier. So wish me luck on that one too, I should know in a week or two!
Will I be hiking over a glacier, or over hot desert sand this summer? Or both? Or just over the same little streets of Providence? And when will I know? Will I get an email, a phone call, or an envelope in my mailbox? These are the questions I think of as I look out my grimy work window to the wall of buildings across the street, grateful for the little sliver of sky I can see.
I've applied for two residencies this summer, both should be letting me know any day now. In the meantime I've been organizing an artist team to explore a little piece of our very own environment. The area we are exploring is not the vast open space of the west, but a little plot of land near the reservoir—from the birds in the sky to the microscopic, bugs and fungus, leaves and amphibians. For the second year, artists are joining the Natural History Survey's Bioblitz. It's a great reminder that you don't have to travel great distances to be awed by nature. There are amazing things going on, literally, in your own backyard. If you think that sounds cool, check out the facebook page and join us!
Here's my latest study for my new series. The setting is an old gold mine I found in the Sangre de Cristo mountains during my artist residency in the Great Sand Dunes in Colorado. Didn't see any raccoons out there, but they'd no doubt like to explore if they could.
I'm in the process of gathering info to apply for another national park artist residency for this summer or fall. There are some good ones out there, but they are not especially well publicized. That helps my chances I guess so I don't mind doing some digging.
The gold mine study was done on a piece of flocked black paper and pastels that I inherited from the studio of Louise Marianetti. I hadn't worked on flocked paper before and am not sure the softness suits my work. It might be nice for portraits though, which is probably why she liked it.
Here's a better picture of the painting I just sent out to the Great Sand Dunes. I did make the one year deadline, but not by much. It's "in the mail" though, and should arrive at the park in a week.
The painting is of my favorite place in the park, the summit of the immense dunes on the east side of the dunefield, where they nestle against the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in a more streamlined version of its peaks and valleys. It takes about an hour of exhausting climbing in the soft sand to get to the top but once up there, if you plan your route carefully, you can walk for a long distance across the broad summits and never see another person. Up there I found this little corpse of a Camel Cricket, an ironic sign of life half buried in the sand.
Even though the Providence area offers plenty of life drawing classes it's been years since I've drawn from the model. Not that I don't want to, but I never seemed to be able to commit the time. But I finally made it back into the circle of charcoal dust at Kate Huntington's Open Life Drawing. I've only gone twice so far, but it's a great group of very talented artists who are also very sociable, so it's a good time, despite me being so rusty that I begin to doubt I know how to draw at all.
My incentive for finally getting my butt down on the drawing horse was thoughts of beginning a good-sized oil painting of sand dunes to send to Great Sand Dunes National Park in return for my residency last year. While I was out there I kept being struck by how much the curves of the dunes reminded me of the human body, so since I can't sit in the dunes these days, I'll work from the figure and think about how the human body reminds me of the dunes.
The weather is warming up here, low 40s and sunny, so the studio will heat up a lot faster. I'm hearing birds all of a sudden too. In the fall they fall silent one by one so I don't think I really notice... but just one little chirp this time of year and I remember what I've been missing. It's only mid-February though, so I'd better not get too used to it.
I spent my New Year's Eve sitting in front of the fire drinking a little champagne and reading over my last year of blogging. My memory is notoriously bad, so being able to review the year this way makes me glad to have posted over the last 12 months, even if no one was to read it. But I've also made some good connections along the way, which makes me happy that some people have read it, so if you're reading my blog now...thank you and Happy New Year!
I have to say, for all the dissing of 2009 I've heard, it was not a bad year for me, and for that I'm grateful. Even though I often fantasize about ditching the day job, I survived two rounds of layoffs and I know, intellectually, it's a good thing. Unemployment would not mean more time in the studio, it would mean more time on interviews. If I was lucky enough to find another job, would probably mean longer hours for less pay. So I guess I'm glad I kept my job.
More importantly though, those I care about are doing ok. Although I would wish better health for some, we are all still here, still supporting ourselves and still getting along.
The most disappointing thing this year has been in my work. After three or four years of intense work on my last series, I haven't produced much substantial since my show at the end of 2008. I have been thinking a lot, but haven't found the same kind of focus as I had with my Shoemaker Series yet. I do have some ideas floating around, and found a special dune-ish inspiration last summer, so paintings will follow...
So where did all the time go? Let's see...
In January I went to classes at the Museum of Natural History in Roger William's Park called "Drawing from the Collection" and learned to love taxidermy. I focused on owls, and it gave me some ideas about incorporating these little spirits into my work. It was also very cheering (if freezing) to hop on an overnight bus to attend the inauguration in Washington. It was a great experience to feel so hopeful about the shift in direction our country chose, and although everything is far from wonderful, I still feel hopeful to have someone leading this country who can think in more than one dimension. I had washed my hands of the judgment of the American Public, so had to promptly unwash them.
My friend Mary Grady was the one who got me out into January's cold on those adventures. Her's usually take place up in the sky, so check out her site if you like all things aviation.
In February I said goodbye to my 1989 Toyota pickup. You would think swapping it for a new 2009 version would be exciting but I still feel a pang when I think about it and wonder if I did the right thing. The new truck is much smoother, but bigger and not nearly as friendly. But I gave my old truck to my college-age niece, so I get to take it for a spin once in a while. I have to admit I'm amazed at how stiff, pokey and noisy it rides now that I'm used to the other. But it served me well for 20 years and delivered a lot of paintings.
In March I found out that one of the national park artist residencies I had applied for had accepted me. In fact, I was to be the first AIR at Great Dunes National Park. A few weeks later, I got a phone call which told me that my name was chosen in a lottery to stay in dune shack on Cape Cod.
Quite a coincidence, and it was nice to be able to anticipate hiking barefoot through the dunes to get me through the blustery chill of March.
As excited as I was about planning my next residency, I still owed Mesa Verde a painting from my 2008 residency there. I finished it in June, just over the year deadline. Those at the park were very patient and resisted showing up at my studio door with their flat rimmed ranger hats and crisp khaki uniforms to seize what I owed them. I'm glad they like it when it finally arrived.
In August, after a little angst about whether I could get the time off work, and keeping a nervous eye on Hurricane Bill which was charging up the coast, I was dropped off at the dune shack Thalassa and spent an idyllic week there, hiking over the dunes and along the shore, watching the huge waves kicked up by the hurricane, drawing, swimming and entertaining a few guests.
I hardly had time to shake the sand out of my shoes before heading out to Colorado and Great Sand Dunes National Park in September. The dunes were much higher there, but worth the climbing. I'm still working on posting my journal, but the first two installments can be found here.
The rest of the fall was spent in getting my application out for Denali National Park (rejected!) and happily sorting through some exhibition opportunities which have come my way. I drop off the paintings for the first one, at Bert Gallery in Providence, tomorrow and will have more details soon.
It will be nice to move some of my paintings out of the cold studio and into nice warm gallery space. And it will be nice to move me into the cold studio to make more...
I can't decide what kind of rejection I like the best; an email message or the kind that comes back in the S.A.S.E dutifully included in the application.
I suspect the email version will become the new standard, as everything moves online. I do like how much easier it is on the application side, but after waiting forever to get a response, it's somehow more satisfying to open an envelope, see the nice thick paper with the rejector's letterhead, throw it aside, then retrieve it to add to the file of rejection letters. So what do I do now — print my rejection emails to add to my file?
That would be silly. I think I will.
Anyway, I've been thinking about this because I got two email rejections in two days. The first was...sniff...the Denali artist residency (I don't really cry on my emails—it's not good for the keyboard). In previous postal rejections I've had little notes slipped inside telling me how close I came, and to try again. This email began with "Thank you for applying..." Always a very bad sign. Then came the standard Don't-Feel-Too-Bad tag line... "We had many strong applications from all over the U.S. and abroad, making this year’s selection especially difficult." So after thinking I was ALMOST heading north for the last few application cycles, I'm now feeling Denali is further away than ever.
The second rejection was from a local group show, no big deal really, but it's a place I always feel a bit surprised to be rejected from.
But I still have my show at Bert coming up next month, and yesterday I was contacted out of the blue about another exhibit opportunity. More on both of those later...
I took a l little trip to NYC Sunday to walk around and see the Kandinsky show at the Guggenheim. It was fun watching the landscape speed by from the train window again. It made me think maybe I hadn't quite finished painting the northeast corridor landscape. The streets of NYC were freezing when we got there, this time of year the sun doesn't get high enough in the sky to be able to penetrate the valleys between the buildings. The wind, however, manages to race through and chill us to the bone. Once we got to Central Park though, the sun shone on the snow dusted landscape and the wind dispersed, so we decided it was nice enough to continue our walk of the 54 blocks to 88th street.
Kandinsky was great, the Guggenheim is a perfect place to see it. It looked like a big Kandinsky wedding cake, turned inside out.
We are lucky that our internal clocks are still on Eastern Standard Time, since we're awake by 5:30 to look out and see the dunes glowing pure white like bone china, the mountains dark behind them. Realizing that this phenomenon will not survive the rising sun we grab our cameras and head down to the road to get an unobstructed view. The sun is already peeking over the Sangre de Cristos and lighting the valley, and as it creeps toward the western end of the dunes the cold white turns to frosty ochre. The mountain's shadow contracts and the highest dunes reflect the pale morning sun with rosy glow.
It's chilly so we keep moving while we watch and I turn to the east to scan the plains. A few hundred yards off I see a pair of elk, shy of us despite their distance.
We stay until the dunes are almost fully lit then return to the apartment for breakfast before heading down to the Visitor's Center to check the forecast. It predicts a chilly, windy day, so a hike to Revelation Point seems like a good way to take advantage of cool climbing temperatures without the danger of sandblasting. CONTINUE READING....
I was hoping to have my next installment of my Great Dunes journal by the next time I posted, and it's close, but not done yet. Sorry to keep you in suspense (as you say—oh, there's more?) But, if they're not literary masterpieces, it's still good for me to labor over them. I did write down my impressions every day while out there, but in trying to make something of it, and going over it again and again, it really helps me sort out the experience and remember my residencies more richly.
I got an email this week from the latest residency I've applied for — Denali National Park— but was afraid to click on it, being at work and all, and not wanting to switch my mood from stupefaction to disappointment. But it was just a notification that I'll hear in the next few weeks, so there's still hope!
Meanwhile I've been working on a video for my upcoming show at the Bert Gallery in January. They've been filming interviews with the artists to go along with their recent shows, and the thought of having to go on about my work in front of a camera made me immediately volunteer to work with my husband (a filmmaker) to come up with a little video that hopefully will be more interesting than my talking head. So we returned to the shoemaker's shop and took some shots, and will film in my studio, and perhaps I can edit it together in something approaching a coherent piece.
Some of the pressure is off for now though. I found out I misunderstood about the Providence Art Window gig, the letter asked if I COULD install by December, it didn't say I would be SCHEDULED to install in December. So it's still on, but sometime in the future...and out of my head for now, where it's safer.
I am in a holiday show at Imago gallery in Warren though. I submitted these 3 little paintings of the Badlands National Park, so stop by their lovely new gallery if you get a chance. My pieces are recession priced...such a bargain! Warren was hopping last weekend when I went, too. Granted it was the lighting festival, but it really is getting to be a very arty scene there, and it will look so festive with the colored (not snooty white) lights strung across Main St.
I'm finally getting around to posting the first part of my artist in residence journal. More is coming soon, just as soon as I can finish typing it out and adding some photos. See the first two days here...
GREAT SAND DUNES NATIONAL PARK Sunday, Sept. 20
By the time we make our way through the mountains and into the enormous San Luis Valley there is no light left in the sky or on the road. Our headlights cut through the night to reveal only 50 feet of dead-straight asphalt, a few deer in the scrub by the side of the road, and the occasional kangaroo rat hopping to safety just in front of our tires. CONTINUE READING...
