A Day At the Museum

It feels like it has been quite challenging to be productive in all of these 90 degree summer days with dew points well over 70. My garden has been somewhat neglected in the heat and I haven't been doing much watercolor plein air painting, though I have stuck my fingers back into the fabric paint. This hot weather also made it quite difficult for me to know how to dress for a recent trip to the Carnegie Art Museum. That darn air conditioning. Such quandaries, I know.

I made my decision to go with the sleeveless peasant blouse but to throw a sweater in the car, just in case. With much anticipation I was finally off for an afternoon of frolic with the masters. I barely made it through the courtyard entrance when I stopped dead in my tracks and was momentarily transfixed by the huge splashes of block colors painted along the corridor wall. Not exactly Michelangelo but the gigantic shapes of color were simple, yet very appealing. I was trying to understand how that happens and hoping to remember that combination for future reference.

Daisies in Fabric Paint. Fun to get lost in their dance. 

Continuing my journey, I felt that I had somehow entered into the DaVinci Code or perhaps A Night at the Museum, sans Ben Stiller. I was bombarded by a myriad of strange thoughts, wondering what the galleries would look and feel like in the diminished light and cool air in the middle of the night. The temperature was already cooler and the lighting lower (as I studied the Ancient Artwork in front of me) creating the oppressive blanket of antiquity. Now I know the true meaning of Egyptian Blue. I'll have to google how they made that fantastic color. And how do they apply that eyeliner that way? Those artistic feats, make the pyramids look like child's play. LOL. Juxtaposed to this experience was Modern Art. Not my favorite but definitely interesting. Got to get up front and personal with a Pollock and a Warhol. So used to seeing these works "around" that I had to keep reminding myself that these ones were actually the originals. Also, got some inspiration to broaden my views of composition and design.

Of course, I saved the best for the last part of my tour. The Impressionists. Dreamland. I sat on the bench and entered an altered state as I stared into the huge canvas of one of the Water Lily Panels. Yep. You guessed it. Mon ami Claude. But I also met Van Gogh, Renoir, Cassatt....Had to keep reminding myself that I could not reach out and touch them, which I desperately wanted to do. All and all it was a lovely escape. And of course, no visit is complete without popping in to say hello to the dinosaurs, study a butterfly collection, and to meander through the Hall of Ancient Architecture. I haven't been able to capture the right words to describe all of the strange sensations that these lost civilizations evoked. All in all, it was a lovely escape for me and I didn't even have to don that sweater.

The Wildflower Project

Have you ever driven along the highway and noticed all of the wildflowers? Have you ever wished that you could have that same selection and plant some of them in your own garden? One early dewy spring morning I was fascinated by these fluffy little grasses that were growing along the side of the road. Maybe it was just the way the sunlight was catching them but I do not think that I have ever seen them before. I was really wishing that I could have them in my yard and almost ran my car off the road. I easily drift off into my own world and am not so good a driver to begin with. Did you know that while she was in the whitehouse, Ladybird Johnson's Project was the Wildflower Highway Beautification Project. Guess that's why they call it seed money.

"For happiness one needs security, but joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair." - Anne Morrow Lindbergh, American writer (1906-2001).

April Showers Bring May!



"May Flowers" in Oil Pastels

I’m lingering over my break with a cup of hot coffee and a pink marshmallow Easter Bunny before I must return to my gardening chores. I am hypnotized by the grey dove just outside of my breakfast area window. He is tossing around long strands of grass and trying to figure out which one he wants. What’s up with that behavior? Will he ever make up his mind? Finally, he finds a few that meet his liking and he flies off with a mouthful of straw. Take a few more blades of grass with you Mister Dove and come back with your friends and I won’t have to go back out to finish mowing the lawn. Which looks great, BTW, with all the way more than normal rain we got so far. Ooooops. Spoke too soon. Heeee’s Back!!


The outside menagerie is alive again with activity, now that it is Spring. One sparrow was chasing another, zooming under the front porch roof, right where I was standing, thank you very much. I actually heard and felt the whirring of his wings. Hey, “watch where you are flying, birdbrain!” I think that he was a little too preoccupied chasing the other cute little sparrow that had previously flown by. I am really glad that he did not fly into my head or anything and hurt himself. They are soooo tiny. They both landed on their favorite Japanese Maple where they love to hang around. I gave them some privacy.


Then, while I was starting the lawn mower, I thought that I saw something running almost over my feet, right between the mower and me. Had my dark sunglasses on so I wasn’t sure what was going on. Then whoosh, here comes another one. But he must have realized I was standing there cuz whatever it is, it decides to stop exactly under the mower. “Chicken”, I call him. But here’s my chance to see what’s really going on. I lift up the mower and a chipmunk races away. Glad the mower wasn’t running yet or he would have lost more than just his mate who was long gone by now.



"Path to Giverny" in Oil Pastels
"Love demands infintely less than friendship." George Jean Nathan, American author and critic (1882-1958)

Expression

No great epiphany (luv that word) that all the arts are about expression. For me, when I think about why and what it means to be in the mood to paint, or to dance, or to play the piano...I realize that each reflects a different type of release. That's reallly what it is about, isn't it? Release from the mundane. Escape from stress. Soothing the soul.

I have always loved the piano. Though I have an incredibly difficult time listening to great pianists. The piano has always been about mastery for me. Practice. Practice. Practice. For just a tad bit of improvement. But that's the challenge and I have been ok with that until I listen to others who just seem to sit down and play.

Dance is different. Much more freedom and expression. You can tell I am not meant to be a ballerina. That's why I love the movie Flashdance. You know that corny line when Jennifer Beals asks...."can't you see it? The music?"...or some other nonsense. I know exactly what she means. It captures... let's just say..."Oh, what a feeling."

And of course then there is painting and color. All about interpretation of the world. That's why I try to stay immersed painting only calming scenes. Not very well rounded of me I know. But similar to what they say about if you change your handwriting- you can change your personality...I try to stay with painting peace.
I hope you have your favorite form of expression.

And if you've been plodding along with this blog I know that you do. Smile.

Chicken Soup 4 the...

Artist! I've missed you all!!

I love making soup and I think that I can turn anything into a craft. For those of you who are also Soup Artists, you know what a mountain of ingredients it takes to make a good pot of chicken broth. I really love chicken, but really - what do you do with all that "stuff" just to get a cup of clear liquid broth.

It’s already been a much too busy flu season this year and way below normal temperatures here. So sorry that Tammi’s Holiday Florist is not yet open due to more of the sniffles. And I wasn’t able to get my cannas inside before the first snowfall. However, I’ve had a lot of time to get caught up on listening to the local news, talk shows, and audio books. I’ve organized my art supplies, CDs, art supplies, jewelry making odds and ends, and my recipes. And then I reorganized them because they just never seem to be really organized.

And oh yeah, been wearing my babushka lately to keep warm and I just keep thinking if Jackie O. and Marilyn could wear them, then why couldn't I? OK. Well, I know why. Also been wearing Vicks as lip gloss. Tee hee. Learned that trick a long time ago from a time when my friends and I were too young to wear make-up.

This is my third December Musings and I guess that makes it officially an annual event. I remember when I first heard about blogs and I just didn’t understand them. I mean, why would anyone want to put their world onto the net? What was the purpose? Well, I know that in the true spirit of blogging, Another Original by Tamara doesn’t really reach the bar with blogging. No convos here and my posts are more of an online electronic scrapbook. A first generation of blog mutations I guess. I hope they at least provide a chuckle or two along the way for a few of you.

My 2011 calendar is ready to go and I’ve once again consolidated my lists of things to do. With the extra time on my hands I have not been painting as much as one would think. What I have learned (but already knew I think) is that you can’t force that process. I have made another little holiday card that I call the “Snow Family Portrait.” The Snow family wishes you all the warmth of this holiday season.

November Musings

I took a little jaunt l around the park with my camera on a brisk but sunny day. I was convinced that even with my lack of fondness for this time of the year, I could find an inspiration for a new painting.

I got nothing.

I did, however, manage to chase a squirrel around. I laughed. He glared. Too old anymore to follow him up the tree, I had to rely upon my zoom lens. The museum grounds were empty today so I did not worry about what any observers might be thinking. Well, except for the friendly wave from the security guard. But not before I read the flashover on his face (not unlike that of the incoming e-mail message) that asked “What is she up to today?” But he knows the penchants of the quirky artiste.

November is the time of the year when the deer run around the yard like they are the friendly neighborhood pets. They are in search of dinner or their next mate. They get a little rambunctious in their pursuits so be careful when you are driving. Especially around dusk when they change their direction in search of a new menu.

It’s that time of the year again when we start making our Holiday Card List. And for me, I started months ago dreaming about the composition for this year’s greeting.

I admit it; I just finished reading one of Sylvia Browne’s books. Interesting. It made me wonder and ponder. Then the colors emerged, became fluid and flowed onto the 90 lb watercolor paper that just so happened to be perched on my lap. Christmas Kitty made an appearance. Sylvia talks to angels. I just paint ‘em and their diaphanous wings. Don’t know where that word came from. LOL But I hope you like her.

My Bumper Crops

My tomatoes got a late start this year while I was debating about whether to plant any at all. It is always a fierce competition between me and the deer to see who can get to snack on ‘em first. My green thumb kept poking me and so I succombed as I usually do and decided on only 3 plants. “Early Girl”, “Better Boy” and a cherry tomato container plant. I think "Better Boy" turned out to be the best producer. And then I was surprisingly gifted with 3 more plants that were left on my front steps by a surreptitious visitor. I promptly found a home for them as well amidst all the chaos that I call a garden.

Up until the frost I was able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. They are still green and not so much ripening anymore, so I picked them. Remember the Kathy Bates movie…I decide to give it a whirl. Not much liking fried green tomatoes. Later on I am convinced by a friend to try pickling them. Huh? Nope. I try but still not liking ‘em this way either.

Gram always said to wrap them in newspaper and put them in a box in a cool dark place to ripen. Old Country wisdom comes through again. You have to check them periodically because they don’t all come through with flying colors but darn it does work.

My pie pumpkins were also quite prolific this year. They are perfectly shaped, cute, little, and really sweet. I made pumpkin oatmeal raison cookies. Several times. Yum. Sounds healthy, right? Except for the 2 cups of sugar. I also recently learned that you are not supposed to eat those Jack-o-Lantern pumpkins. Nothing will happen to you. Just not too tasty.

The only thing that didn’t work out well this growing season was my cantaloupes. Oh, they grew alright. I watered, coddled, fed them, and endured the embarrassment, strange looks, and inquiries from my neighbors while they wound around my lamp post until harvest time. They had the strangest taste. I think they tasted like their neighboring cannas. Not that I really know what cannas taste like, mind you. They were promptly returned to the compost pile and I am already musing about next year’s crops.

These pics are the front and back of my most recent canvas hand bag that I painted. Designed by me and done in acrylics. I am hoping to find it a good home. It’s listed on E-bay. My seller name there is QuirkyArtiste. Tee Hee.

“A Primitive (Artist) is an amateur whose work sells.” – Grandma Moses

Those Late Bloomers

I thought that there was an unusual amount of flurry and activity amongst the robins in my backyard the other morning. Geesh, with all the trees, I knew that we had a lot of birds but I never noticed all these robins hanging around. Well, the reason soon became abundantly clear the next day when I stepped out onto the front porch to water my red salvias. I shouldn't be all that surprised really at what I encountered.The porch has all the amenities nearby. Water in the birdbath, fresh flowers, shelter under the roof, and lots of potting soil to root around in if you get bored I guess. I know that I encourage marching to the beat of your own drummer and I love fostering the late bloomers in all of us. However, I draw the line with those quirky confused robins who insist on starting their family at the end of summer. Don't they know that it was no longer spring time?

Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Robin were back and trying to build once again on top of the porch light. I feel like I must have beach front Malibu real estate for robins. They are either quite bold or I am not as menacing as I think. Despite my broom, tinfoil in hand, and battle cries of "No baby, no. You can't build here," Mrs. Robin looks right at me. We make eye contact and come face to beak. I am pretty sure that she is mocking me and I am reading her mind as she says "this is my front porch now lady."

A few seconds pass and she eventually realizes that I am bigger than her and flies away. But not without attempting a few more return trips. Incredible. I knock the old nest out of the rhododendron, thinking that maybe they do not wish to live next to an abandoned home as it may be unsafe for the kids. I tell them that I will even offer a tax abatement or low interest mortgage rate if they would kindly consider the Rhododendron location and comply with my zoning and building laws. We'll see who wins this century's battle of Homestead.

Artists on the Mind Again!

Amazingly, it was another lovely afternoon and I had just come back from Yoga. Plopping down on the couch to take just a "small break" before I started my chores, I freely admit engaging in a moment of "channel surfing" with the remote. I was preoccupied yet again with the art ideas whirling around in my mind. "No one is an artist unless he carries his picture in his head before painting it..." Claude Monet This time, I was trying to nail down the theme for this year's collaborative art project. "You are lost the moment you know what the result will be." Juan Gris The sound on the T.V. was muted but when I glanced up I saw a dark haired, exotic woman. She was laying on a bed in a full body cast and I thought "No, it can't be." I must be the only one who always had artists on the mind. Very quickly, it became apparent that yes indeed, it was the life story of Frida Kahlo, the famous Mexican artist. "I live life in the margins of society, and the rules of normal society don't apply." Tamara De Lempicka It turned out to be a very long movie with the plot not only surrounding her physical traumas but also her tumultuous marriage, divorce, and remarriage to artist Diego Rivera. Volcanic. She was only 22 years of age and he was 42 when they married and he freely admitted that he was incapable of fidelity. And her paintings are sooo reflective of her life. This one below is called "The Two Fridas".
"I paint self portraits because I am the person I know best". Frida Kahlo The artistry of the movie was in its music, dance, and culture but I fear beyond that the drama may not have held the interest of many. "I call myself an artist for lack of a better word...There's no one name that fits me." Dale Chihuly I thought the actress who portrayed Frida captured her essence and certainly her thick distinctive eyebrows (I am pretty sure they were enhanced). May be time for another journey to the library and a quest for a good biography on her.

Those Daring Art Heists

I wonder whatever happened to those 5 paintings that were heisted back in May from the Paris Museum of Modern Art. I mean, I just can't understand stealing these treasures out from underneath the public's eye, only to have to stash them away somewhere underground. I guess I must be missing the bigger "picture" (LOL) because it's not like you can invite your friends over to your house for a soiree or anything, to brag or to show off your latest art acquisitions.

Anyways, I am amazed that this drama has not generated more interest. The intrigue factor here is way greater than many of the usual headlines that make the news. In today's high security and high tech world, how does this happen? Not a clue left behind. Not a peep!

Speaking of events, I slipped on my old blue sneakers (Skechers with fading sparkles) this morning and took a stroll through my gardens, while the grass was still wet with dew. And before it hit 90 degrees. I was still preoccupied with who in the world was bold enough to pull off that art heist. I wasn't paying close attention to what I was doing when I decided to sample my herbs. If you like to sneak a snip of parsley or something, fresh out of the garden, you may wanna first look very closely. Yep. Very organic. No pesticides and freshly washed from the rainwater. But I just didn't notice those teeny tiny green dots that were moving...until well, ummm, it was a bit too late.

Nothing has happened to me yet and the protein just might do me good. However, I do not believe that I shall be snacking in the garden again anytime soon. Feeling like I needed a large glass of water, and quickly-I still had to stop to take off my now muddy and wet shoes. Yikes! I had looked down and geesh. I really was not having a very good day. Blue Feet. Yes, one of my fav colors, but really.

I still managed to take a few photos of my blooming brilliantly orange nasturtiums that inspired yet another little watercolor painting. Blue and orange are complimentary colors, you know. But sorry no pics of the blue feet!

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important."
- Ambrose Redmoon

Artwork for Fireworks!

Everyone enjoys those "top ten lists" and so I recently picked up a book called 50 Artists You Should Know. Familiar with many of the artists, I am sad to say that some of them I did not know, while others I simply recognized but could not really place them. Perhaps you would enjoy a few of what I considered to be the interesting highlights of their biographies. Their art works have endured through the centuries, withstanding not only the impact of time, but competition with technology as well. Such indefatigable talent! Way more impressive than any computer, i-pod, or plasma TV.

Jan Van Eyck is one of the earliest artists who is noted for his use of color. I do need to study him more. Raphael's life span was a mere 37 years but he was able to produce incredible masterpieces during his lifetime. And apparently there was quite the competition between Michaelangeleo and him. I can't imagine how either of them doubted their talent. Btw, despite Michaelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel, he really wanted to be known as a sculptor.

Peter Paul Rubens became a favorite of mine after I saw one of his original masterpieces up close and personal. He apparently had a penchant for painting voluptuous women, hence the term Rubens-esque was coined.

I am not so much into symbolist work but I just love the color and designs of Gustav Klimt's painting "The Kiss" featured to the right here.

Joseph Beuys said "every person should be an artist". I think he was a forerunner to quirky, spending 5 days in 1974 in a room with a coyote called Little John. He was greatly influenced by the Fluxus movement, which was a "made-up" word that suggests constant change.

Andy Warhol said someone once told him to paint what he liked and that's how we got all those Campbell Soup cans. Marcel Duchamp once signed a shovel in a department store and proclaimed it "Art."

And that Salvadore Dali said that everyone has a "right to his madness". I just prefer to keep mine a bit more on the positive, karmic, and colorful side of life. Those melting watches of his don't really help me pass the time.

I almost couldn't bear to post one of my humble little watercolor paintings after talking about the Masters. But I shall, just to add a fun splash of color. This is called "A Bee's View of the World". A psychedelic look at life probably after having a little too much honey.

Happy Fourth of July!!!

"It is Art that makes life. Makes interest. Makes importance. And I know of no substitute whatever for the force and beauty of it is process." -Henry James

Les Petits Tresors

I went out on my front porch this morning to dump the pickle juice on the azalea. Of course, I had to stop and check on the triplets who I knew were now rapidly overflowing their bunkie beds that their parents had put together in the rhododendron, without reading any owner's manual I might add.

Serendipity struck again and I gasped when I saw one of the trio literally hop out of the nest, flap its fluffy wings, and then hop onto a branch. One still remained behind in the nest and was now staring strangely at me. Apparently, number three had already flown the coop so to speak. It was nowhere to be seen.

I ran as quick as I could to get the camera to photograph this incredible moment. Aiming quickly and desperately hoping that I did not forget the camera card again, I wondered whether I was actually aiming at the right spot in the camouflage of branches.

As the baby hopped further from its nest, I debated about what to do next so I walked down the porch steps to try to get in closer for a better shot. Robins are even more histrionic than artists and Mama did not know that I was just a silly artist trying to capture un petit tresor (figuratively speaking of course). She was frantically chirping away, sounding her alarm to all of her friends. No longer simply circling above, she was flying lower and lower at me (now I know how my Siamese cat, Masumi, must have felt when they "dive bombed" her). I remained unflappable until I literally felt and heard the flapping of her wings right above my head. I ran. Quickly. Back up the front porch steps and right into my house.

The baby portraits are not Olan Mills, but the first two photos are the triplets, newly entered into the world. The third one to the right here, is on their first day of school. Oops, I mean on their first day of leaving the nest. You have to look closely, in the middle, and more towards the bottom right of the pic to find baby Birdie. And sorry, it's sooo blurry.

Feeling badly about causing such stress, I am also sad as I gaze at their empty nest. No, I am SO not crying and wish them the best out there in the big, vast world. They are moving on and I am sure they are glad to be rid of such a nosy, annoying, and quirky neighbor. Ce n'est vrais pas. Moi? Vraiment!!!

"If I hadn't started painting, I would be raising chickens." - Grandma Moses

Provenance

It was "Artist's Day" at a local museum last week. So I had no choice but to sneak off during a gorgeous sunny afternoon and enjoy a private gallery tour, escaping into the breathtaking world of Art. I listened intently to the lovely older woman giving the guided walk and I admired her very artsy leather lilac jacket. I decided that giving gallery tours through really cool rooms where priceless art works hung suspended on velvet walls in darkened rooms would be a pretty neat job. Unfortunately, I have never taken one Art History Class and I am pretty much a self taught and incredibly struggling artist. Still, I found myself musing about what I would say to my own gallery group, as together we would study Peter Paul Rubens' painting of the Princess of Conde, which BTW, is my personal favorite. And where does one find such a red beaded dress as the one Princess Charlotte-Margerite de Montmorency is wearing?

The other works to which I was particularly drawn shared the theme of escapism. Not surprisingly, this category has a recurring theme of nature. "Wild color and an over active imagination interpret reality before expressing itself on canvas", I would say to my tour group.

The first tour that I took was fascinating but I must admit that the second one was not as enthralling. So, I surreptitiously slipped into the other gallery rooms which held pieces from as early as the 1600's and I practiced giving my first tour to myself. The muted lighting and the cool air of the controlled room temperature made you actually feel the weight of the centuries. Art History literally comes alive when you stare into the eyes of a portraiture and you start to feel its beating pulse. I was mesmerized by the strangest facts. I could not understand how the artists' identities of several incredible paintings were unknown and why their provenance remained so hotly debated. I felt sad that such amazing talent had drifted into obscurity. Then I remembered that many of these pieces were created well over 400 years ago. I know that restoration is a scary process, requiring much skill and patience. However, I simply could not get over the quality of the oils and the condition of the canvases. I guess like a lot of things, they don't make art supplies like they used to. LOL.

I finally finished re-painting my Rock-n-Art and it is once again displayed underneath the Crimson King. A very cool place to spend the summer. These are pics of the front and back of it. Done in acrylics which seems to reflect too much of the sun which creates that glare. Next time, I may actually try working with house paint. May eliminate that problem.

We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance. — Japanese Proverb

Somewhere My Love

No, this is so not a Valentine's Day Post. Listen closely to the stone cold deafening silence. The world around you is now entombed in crystallized ice. You should soon begin to hear in the distance of this Siberian Tundra, the Balalaika of Lara's Theme. Yes, we must all be in the movie Dr. Zhivago. Darn, I think I just saw Omar Sharif!

We had a record breaking snowfall in Pittsburgh and in many places. There is certain to be a lot of blogging going on about it. But I wondered (as I shoveled) how one writes an ultra artsy blog about the pure white driven snow. As I pondered this thought, I happened to glance up at the sky and my breath caught (or maybe it just froze) in my throat. Despite the waist high snow, I took a small break to lean against my shovel and to notice the beautiful color that I could not put into words. I always wondered what real azure blue looked like and I thought that this might be it. If you don't already do this, I encourage you to to take a moment to lose yourself in the colors of the nite and the early morning skies. They define breathtaking better than Webster's and with an added sensory experience. Those elusive hues of nature can rarely be replicated by even the priciest of oils or acrylics.

I regret that I was so exhausted from shoveling that I could not run up the steps one more time to get the camera or even manage to lift my arm to point and shoot. I am sorry that I was not able to capture these colors for you.

And then I looked down (as if for the first time) to notice what I was wearing. I had on two pairs of pants and the outer sweats were a lovely shade of teal. The snow boots were classic black with a trim of black fur (ooh la-la), the stadium jacket was a tres chic violet, the mittens a complimentary rust color, and my cute Pittsburgh Pirates baseball cap was draped with a neutral beige scarf to keep my ears warm. A true vision in haute couture. I could have turned it up a notch and worn my faux leopard jacket that is trimmed in fluffy black fur but I did not want my neighbors "to talk". LOL. And I was worried that I could not spin a quirky snow story.

Without electricity and all these chores to do, I have not had much time for painting any snow scenes. So I am posting this little watercolor that I call "Wildflowers in a Meadow". It has me dreaming about familiar and much warmer times.

"The snow falls, each flake in its appropriate place." -Zen Saying

A Watercolor Holiday Season

It was way harder than one would imagine to come up with Another Original by Tamara Christmas Card design. It made me reflect upon those dreaded assignments from my art classes of Yesteryear and ones that I did not "get" at the time. You remember them. Drawings that were allowed to focus on texture only or on shading only or on one subject only. Boring, boring, boring. We drew shoes falling out of the sky or shoes floating down a river and well, you kinda get the idea. None of it made sense to me at the time. That must have been the beginning of learning how to view the world just a bit differently than everyone else.

Now that I was feeling like I wanted to do a little Christmas Card watercolor painting but was up against that December 25 deadline, I wondered how to keep it fun and stress free. So, I rounded up the usual list of suspects. You know the line up well. . . Frosty, Prancer, Santa, Tannenbaum, etc. Next year, I'll work on something a little more original but for this year, yes, I think I finished just under the wire and it shall do. Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and Happy Kwanza!

"Love is what you have been through with somebody." -James Thurber

It's Coming!

It is the official start of the Holiday Season now that Turkey Day is under our belt. Or should I say for some of us "under our unbuckled belt."

I dug out my cannas today. Two wheelbarrows full of 'em. They are a lot of work and I am not so sure why I continue this yearly ritual with them. My father always admired them but he never planted them. He was probably way smarter than me. They are a flower that easily grows wild and all year long in the tropics. Here, this far north, they must be pampered. They love lots of water, sunshine, loamy, and slightly acidic soil. I call them "big eaters" because they must be fertilized heavily if you want those huge gorgeous blooms. They come in lots of colors but I stick with the red. There's a surprise.

I could have left the rhizomes in the ground a little longer as we have yet to have a really hard frost but I was looking for an excuse to get outside. It's good exercise and fun to get really dirty and not have to worry. It hit 60 degrees today and with much glorious sunshine.

I expanded my Rain Garden a bit and I am already dreaming about next year's designs. Christmas is right around the corner and for me, being in the yard is like being in nature's great big craft store. I was thinking about what I could do with the pine cones that have fallen. I noticed that the holly trees already have their lovely red berries on them. Unfortunately, they do not do so well in dried floral arrangements because they do not last long. I was glad to see that both the long and short needled pine trees have lots of branches and I am certain they were already offering themselves to me for a wreath or two.

I have a commitment to play some holiday piano music and so I have started practicing the Christmas Carols on the piano. A Chanukah song or two as well. It has been a year you know, since they were last played. It seems like Christmas rolls around faster with every year. Anyways, here is a holiday card for you. It was inspired simply by the midnight blue color of the card stock. I used lots of white and shimmery gold and silver paint. I couldn't resist adding the pink and mint green flowers that were caught up in the frost. Brrrrr. It does put a chill in the air. My friend said it made her feel cold and alone. I guess that is ok since art is supposed to be evocative. But I do hope you take comfort from the North Star placed strategically in the sky.



“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.”
―C.S. Lewis

That Amazing Google

I typed this in my search engine: "Photo of Jackson Pollock standing in front of blank canvas" and was thrilled to find exactly for what I was searching. I had seen this photo in an art book and its image has continued to haunt me. Now you too, can see the reason. The finished canvas is also shown here. Again, not exactly my genre but very intriguing.

You may have picked up on the fact that I love quotes and I thought it also fitting to post the one below by Andy Warhol. So I googled him too. He was born here in Pittsburgh (we all knew that!) and is buried in a nearby cemetery in Bethel Park (I think I knew that). His father, Ondrej, was a Slovak immigrant (I did not know that because I thought I had read once that his mother was a Polish immigrant) and his mother was Julia Zavacky Warhola, also a Slovak immigrant. Huh. Its a short list for famous Slovaks. He attended Schenley High School (I really did not know that) and then Carnegie Mellon University. Not crazy about his art either but again, I am simply sooo fascinated by him. BTW, it is a wig in case you are wondering.

“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.”
―Andy Warhol

Those Quirky Artists

The famed Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, Russia is home to some 2.7 million works of art. And they are not just any pieces but range from Ancient Egyptian treasures to van Gogh and Botticelli masterpieces. How is that for putting one's own creativity in perspective? Some competition, huh? Having said that, I still like to pretend that I too, am an artist. Although on nites like these when nothing seems to be working right, I wonder what I ever was thinking. However, there is a gorgeous and full Harvest Moon tonight. It shall have my admiration soon and it will manage to soothe my yearning soul. Ahh such fun, dancing for the mystic moon.

For inspiration, I also like to read the profiles of other artists on such sites as Etsy.com. I have noticed that common themes emerge. Most (of us) artsy folk recall that our earliest memories include funny stories about our artwork. We tend to always view the world as a potential canvas, almost to the point of obsession. We haven't finished our current project but are always planning ahead for the next. Time flies when we are in the delirium of our work but we are never really sure that we like what we create. We learn from our mistakes, accept them, and even at times almost welcome them for they test our limits and generate passion.

I am not a huge fan of Jackson Pollock but I am fascinated by the man as an artist. There is one photo of him standing in front of and pondering a huge blank canvas that was to be one of the largest works that he ever created. He was under a lot of pressure and up against a deadline after being commissioned to paint a work for a significant gala event. After weeks of pondering and virtual paralysis, it is said that he finally but frenetically painted straight through the night. I love that photo and the story. He faced his own unique challenges and the world tragically lost this artist at his young age of 44 years.

The future belongs to those who are free to believe in their dreams.

Why Blog?

I have been "doing" a lot more art lately. Painting mostly, and other art related projects. I think that keeping busy this way is a good thing. One result however, is that I don't think abstractly about it as much. It seems that when I am more in the action mode, I am not so much in the thinking mode.
So, without the deluge of verbal constructs whirling around in my head, I found myself pondering the reason for my past frequent journaling or the purpose for blogging. The answer flows naturally. E-journaling remains a way to reflect upon my ideas about art and it is a way to capture my work. Perhaps it is also a way to document my own unique journey through this world.
While I don't have any musings today (or do I?), here are some pics of what I have been doing. And BTW, the flowers are absolutely stunning around here this time of year. They continue to inspire. I will miss summer. Peace out. Signed,

With Love,
The Quirky Artiste


"A moment's insight is sometimes worth a life's experience." - Oliver Wendell Holmes

Graphology

I experience the world as a blend of colors, sounds, sensations, thoughts and ideas. An ever evolving unique rainbow of sorts, if you will. And so I have taken to noticing how I sign my work over the years has changed.

I like thinking that handwriting reveals something that is otherwise not readily apparent. I like believing that any changes with handwriting are substantially indicative of something else as well. I consider graphology to be where art, science and psychology merge.

There is not a huge number of books written on the topic of handwriting analysis, but there are enough to provide a variety of interpretations. The caveat however, is that it is now impossible for me to look at a signature without being drawn to its potential of a deeper meaning.

I signed my earlier works as "Tammi." I thought that the "lumpy" signature was creative. It was not until quite recently that I started signing off as "Another Original by Tamara". I either weave the handwriting into a painting or sign along the border of the painting, making sure that it "turns the corner." Now THAT, I am convinced has to mean something. I have learned that Tammi and Tamara, you see, are really two quite different personalities. Guess it goes along with the whole Gemini/Quirky Twin thing going on.

"Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you." ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne