Planning Planners

Page from 2013 Gelli plate planner

In 2013  I realized that my standard planner was not longer meeting my needs. Given that I'd been using the same setup for at least five years it was sad to see it go. After several weeks of looking into various options I was pleased to come up with a setup that I thought would work perfectly!
My mom had just gotten a Gelli plate and so of course I was persuaded to use it for my planner. The pages turned out beautiful! It was a lot of fun to consider which color schemes to use each month and bind the seven booklets in to a single book.

Unfortunately there were three major problems with my beautiful planner:
1. The paint from the Gelli Plate made the surface too slick to write on with most pens
2. The book was too thick to fit into my purse so I only carried it when I used my bag pack or biggest purses.
3. When it got warmer the pages stuck together.

By the summer I had broken down and returned to a cheap version of my old setup just to have something to use. The old setup was better than the failed gelli print planner, but it still had its old problems and paper nearly as bad as newsprint.

Not in 2015! This year I sketched out a planner the way I'd want it. I looked over what I'd done and tweaked it some. Several months of plotting later I set up the pages on my computer.  After figuring out double-sided printing and booklet sizes I realized that this setup might meet some of my friends' needs too. This afternoon a download of the planner will be listed on my Etsy store! 

So Long Chi-beria!

Between Polar Vortex and some smaller storms before and after, Chicago earned the nickname "Chi-beria" this year. It wasn't just my little Southern soul shivering in a northern winter, schools and business actually closed because it was too cold!

Chicago and melting Lake Michigan

Now, I come from a glorious portion of the the country where the daffodils bloom by mid February at the absolute latest, so two inches of snow the first day of March was just a bit too much for me. Despite my best efforts to go and do, when there aren't flowers blooming by the end of February and I haven't seen the ground for months because of the snow and ice I start to panic.  Immediately my subconscious decides that spring didn't survive the winter.

It's a pretty silly thing to think. As long as the earth is still rotating, the seasons will keep changing. After all, Hades cannot keep fair Persephone with him the entire year. I know that spring will come, but also I don't know that it will come. When the dark days drag on and the occasional sunny day is below freezing, it's hard to remember green growing things.

Teeny-tiny baby leaves!

But today, today was sunny and warm. When I ventured out with my paints, there were tiny rivers beginning on all the sidewalks and the grass (though dead-looking) had appeared. The main sidewalks were full of people out jogging or walking their dogs and they actually smiled.

Closer to Lake Michigan there were more rivulets and a few trees even had the beginnings of buds. Out on the lake front joggers, cyclist, and dog walkers were all frolicking and so were the birds. From the apartment windows I only see distant pigeons and once I saw a titmouse investigate our trees. Out there, the air rang with birds singing, calling, chiding in many voices.

I settled in and began painting. Just as I was becoming engrossed in the colors I heard a noise I didn't recognize and looked about. Not seeing anything unusually I turned back to my painting. Again the noise and again I didn't understand. After the seagull, who'd been begging for the paintbrushes he assumed were food, left I realized what it was: ice breaking!

Spring is still awhile away (more snow to come this week) but the ice is breaking and the buds are forming.

My sketch from the lake front

Drawing Lab: Color

Though my silence belies it, I'm still working my way through Carla Sonheim's great book.

20 drawings of the same dog with a chisel tip marker

I've already confessed to my awe of the blind contour, but some of the other techniques seemed deceptively simple. (Not the one of drawing the same dog in the same pose 20 different ways!)

Drawing and coloring a monkey with three to four "mystery tools" seemed simple enough. Draw, then color.  What I didn't expect was that forcing myself to use the given colors would help me break from the constraints of reality.

It sounds a bit dramatic, but it was surprisingly effective in helping me work through my paralyzing standards for realism in color. Of course, I still hope to return to realistic colors and master them. But, by breaking from reality I've given myself the freedom to see and capture other elements first.

Monkey with "Mystery tools"

Following artists on social media and even meeting up with professional artist often leaves me disappointed at how far away I still am from the realism I love. Taking the freedom to change colors and the looseness required to draw on index cards with a chisel-tip marker, I've been able to explore slightly more refined water color renderings. I hadn't expected it to help, but stepping away from my attempts at realism I am slowly coming to understand the pieces that go into making up a realistic piece.

"Twinky"

InCoWriMo Freebies

Happy InCoWriMo!

Two InCoWriMo letters I just sent out

Much like my first experience with NaNoWriMo, I didn't discover this event until the day it began. Still, I'm definitely participating. Why?

Well, firstly because letter  writing is a good thing. It's good for the writer but also for the recipient (even my 8 year old video game loving nephew is thrilled when he  gets mail). Secondly, I'm not very good at letter writing, I freeze at the thought of having to select just the right words and tone. Yes, you read that correctly: I'm participating in International Correspondence Writing Month because I put off writing letters. That is the beauty of this type of event, the combined power of a  deadline and a camaraderie remove the excuses we normally give for not doing things we care about like sending a note or even writing a novel.

For some of the correspondence I'm sending out this month I painted cards just for the recipient, but I also painted a few things to print onto fountain pen friendly paper. In the name of drawing more people into this event & helping out those struggling to keep it up, I've decided to share two of those paintings.

Below are the images I'm sharing: a Noodler's fountain pen & a blue "Ink-a- Rhino" with a bow tie. To print these images on your own paper follow the links below to download the full size image to your computer. When printing select letter-sized paper (I actually set it up to use 8.3x 11.7 Rhodia paper) and either "Print entire image" for a slightly larger image or "Scale to fit page" for a slightly smaller image.

I hope you enjoy these and writing letters!

Click Here to download the Fountain Pen                               Click Here to download the Rhino

Morning Meditations

I've long thought that mornings should start slowly with a warm drink and a book in hand. Over the years I went back and forth between thinking that it had to be a Bible and accepting devotional books as a substitute. But this past year and a half it has been hard to spend time with either type.


Late last Spring I was introduced to the writings of Rowan Williams (currently Lord of Oystermouth). I savored The Lion's World and then Tokens of Trust. Neither  of these books would be considered "devotional" by my old standards, but they were both of great help to me. Lord Williams has many more writings that I hope to read, but of late I've found following arguments and reasons hard. Last week I sat staring at a page that I'd read twice with no memory of its contents and decided that perhaps I should try another approach.

Making marks on paper is one of my favorite things. When I get a new pen or put a new ink in my fountain pen I love to sit and draw, write, and generally doodle. In fact when I was too busy to do so in the fall, I eventually had to make time for it so the ink on the page could soothe the itch in my soul.

Enter my new morning meditations. Each day I sit with a warm beverage, my pen, a scrap of paper, and the order of service from the previous Sunday.  I read until I find a phrase that jumps off at me (or I go straight to one that caught my attention during the service.)  Then I turn the phrase over in my mind to get a sense of what is most striking to me in the phrase.  From there I try to write the phrase in a way that will enrich the phrase. That means bringing attention to specific words over others and also giving shape and gesture.

No, I'm not a brilliant hand lettering artist. No, my penmanship isn't lovely. Yes, my lines wobble and tilt. No, those things don't matter for this. This is about me savoring the beauty of the words in a prayer or song and scratching that itch to push ink across a page.

Huitzi

One great thing about living in the midwest is that there are craft breweries everywhere. Because these are small companies and can't afford huge ad campaigns, they have to work to stand out. I think it's such a treat to walk through the store and see product design for each company.

Many companies have a theme in which all their beers are named. One of my favorites is called Five Rabbit. Their beers are animal themed with a Central American twist.  I found this beauty at the store during the end of Polar Vortex and let's be frank, I'm a sucker hummingbirds. I stopped to examine the label and realized (of course!) that it is a Five Rabbit product.  The side of the bottle says:

Art journal page (where I should have used a thinner Pen)

"Huitzi is a winter beer that doesn´t wallow in the dark cold days of this season. Like it’s namesake, the Aztec hummingbird god Huitzilopoctli who smashed the winter to allow the sun to return, Huitzi looks forward to the brighter promise of spring. We think of it as a winter cooler."

WHAT--Did I just read that correctly: "hummingbird god?" Yes, yes there was an Aztec hummingbird god. Sort of...

Huitzilopochtli was a warrior and sun god.  In art he is depicted as a hummingbird (sometimes an eagle) or a warrior wearing hummingbird feathers. As the son of the earth goddess and a sun god, the legend says that he created the moon and stars from his siblings who tried to kill him and their mother. According to the legend the spirits of fallen warriors would join him in the sun and then be reincarnated as hummingbirds.

The product design for this beer and the stories its name honors caught my imagination. Over Christmas break I found an Art Blanc Modo Arte journal on clearance at Hobby Lobby and bought it as I always do art and office supplies: on impulse.  But like so many journals, the beautiful cover and blank pages keep me from using them. Not this time, Huitzi bounced around in my imagination as the snow fell and became the first entry in my new art journal.

Ice Dreams

 Sculpture has a nearly irresistible lure to me. No seriously, I have to take a friend with me to museums to keep me from touching the statues on display. I learned this about myself in high school. We'd taken a field trip to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, Georgia and at the time they had several Roman pieces on loan from the Louvre. I'm not sure if I'd ever seen real sculpture before then and oh it was misery to leave the museum that day.

Sketch from ice carving at the University of Chicago

Since that time I've wanted to try my hand at sculpture. The artistry in sculpture leaves me breathless with awe over the skill and planning it must have taken. Still, because I know in part the artistry required and I think because it moves me so I've wanted to try. But the thing about traditional sculpture is that it's BIG and messy. Trying to sculpt just hasn't fit into my life for the past eight years, until today.

My ice angel when I stopped for the night

I'd been writing in a coffee shop on the University of Chicago campus when I looked out the window and saw people standing around blocks of ice. Well, naturally I stared out the window. When I realized that they were sculpting I stopped to make a quick sketch (above). Sketching meant looking at the place with focus and I realized that people were sculpting and leaving, and then others came to keep working.

By the time I finished a five or ten minute sketch I realized that it was an open event. I can hardly imagine how frantic I looked as I packed up my things and dashed outside. I was given a chisel, an ice pick, and a six pronged ice pick. A gentleman showed me basics for each tool and then I was alone.

All these years of wanting to attempt a sculpture and yet I had never considered what I wanted to sculpt. I asked the people working on either side of me if they had ever attempted such a feat. Neither had. So without further guidance I stared at the ice wondering what to attempt. The only thing that came into my mind was the words of Michelangelo that I had memorized as an undergraduate:

"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free."

So I began with an angel. Can I just say that an angel is a pretty overwhelming first attempt? An ice sculpting company was providing the ice and tools and because I asked them, they gave me further instruction on how to chisel out faces and depict feathers. In all I only had about an hour to work before the company (and tools) left.

My angel doesn't look much like an angel, but I learned a great deal.  When I left I still had to walk a half mile home alone in the wind and snow with already numb toes, fingers, and face. Even so I felt more blessed and seen than I have in many days.

Blind Giraffes or lab 2

Blind contours have always seemed to me a mark of arriving as an artist. Certainly not the only mark, but high on the list. Knowing one's hand and tools so well as to be able to render what the eye sees without concern for the hand is basically magic as far as I can tell.

Lab 2 in Sonheim's book is all about making blind contours of a single creature again, and again and then on top of the renderings made! As I rendered a giraffe multiple times I examined exactly which parts of the creature were clearest each time. It was a little discouraging to realize that my contours looked less and less like a giraffe as I worked. I mean I should be getting better with practice, right?

But the thing is I was improving! No, not improving in the goal of rendering the outline perfectly without checking on my hand, but improving. It wasn't until this exercise and examining my results that I realized I've been assuming the goal was a feat of hand-eye coordination worthy of the greatest athletes. In fact this exercise was strengthening my observation skills and helping me realize the details that make a giraffe a giraffe.

Layered contours with color added

A New Year & A Drawing Lab

While New Year's Resolutions are beginning to lag or maybe even fizzling out mine is taking its joyous shape.

It's not secret that I've struggled a great deal since moving to Chicago fifteen months ago. It was sometime last February when I realized to my horror that I couldn't write anymore. Poetry: gone. Fiction: gone. Letters: gone. Personal journal: gone. I'd always thought of the fabled writer's block as having the desire to write but for some reason not being able to do so. This time writer's block was feeling the weight of stories in my heart and mind yet not being able to let them bleed out. Voices, echoes, moments from stories true and imagined crowded in. Once that would have meant writing them out and becoming empowered by them but  this time I was crippled by them and felt unable to even face them.
I did several thing to try to drown out the stories or forget them, but at last in November I forced myself to write. That's the thing of it, there were so many stories floating through me that I'd pushed deeper and deeper until when at last I sat down to write I even said aloud, "I don't have a story to tell." I wrote anyway, just to prove to myself that I could. A strange thing happened then, I began to feel myself waking up. Suddenly the things I had brought into my life to help me ignore the nagging of the stories I couldn't release were obvious for the shackles they had always been.  I left Chicago to visit family for the holidays in a way I didn't expect: excited. Excited to visit family, but also excited to return to Chicago in a new year and another chance to write.

This photo from the Amazon listing

 While there are more quiet resolutions for myself about writing, I  was given another new year's resolution as a Christmas gift. When my parents gave me Carla Sonheim's Drawing Lab for Mixed-Media Artists I doubt they meant it to be a goal for my new year, but 52 drawing exercises is just perfect to have one for each week of the year! As the cover might suggest, this is not a book for realistic renderings instead Sonheim says that her goal is to make drawing fun again. The book has seven units and the first is about finding inspiration from animals. Within each unit there are several "drawing labs" with instructions for a drawing exercise and tips for taking the drawing further.
In the first week of 2014 I eagerly started the first lab "Cats on a Bed." The exercise involves using your bed (or in my case a pillow) to make loose drawings of cats from memory and imagination. This was a lot of fun! It was even more fun because when I'd run out of poses that I could imagine a cat in I would turn to my husband and say,"What else do cats do?" and that darling man would describe or ever act out another cat pose. The "taking it further" for this lab was to select one or two favorite poses and render them in another media. Because I'm giving myself a week for each lab, and because I liked several poses I ended up doing several of the poses in watercolors. I included one page of my sketches and my watercolor cats below.
So far the hardest thing about this New Year's resolution has been to not do all the exercises in 52 days!

One page of cats on a pillow

Colored cat

Red kitty eating

Blue kitty turns her back to you

Green kitty just wants to be petted

Orange kitty is scared

Purple kitty stretches

Mysterious purple kitty