A Green and Rainy Glade
It's finally raining, which is good for the garden and good for me, as I'm forced to be back indoors and catching up with indoor things--emails, blogs, bookkeeping, housework, and maybe even some reading. Ordered a couple of guides to surviving as an artist, don't know if they are worth it yet. In the midst of working in the garden I also made an assemblage, another bunny, this time an Art Bunny, and it is sitting on the front porch by the sign for the gallery. For some reason I had saved the big fat round brushes I'd used in college, and one of them is too stiff to rescue. The "bunny" is now "wielding" it in one paw, and holding a large ancient tube of Liquitex Titanium White in the other.
The arbor over the deck is now finished, and the lattice panels on the top are in place. I'm learning to tread that balance between under-activity and over-activity. Painting lattice is something I always used to do by hand, very precisely and wasting little paint. But this time I accepted even before starting that neither my hand nor my back--nor my schedule--would be happy this way, and thus I spread several old painting tarps over the back yard, lay the five 2 x 8 lattice panels on the tarps, and whitewashed them with a long-handled roller brush, as I would a floor. And just one good coat. And on just one side, the side you see when you're sitting in the arbor. If I feel like it, I'll do the "roof" side next spring. So for once I've come out of a project intact and still doing art and not crippling myself in the process. And it looks just fine. Yes, one could quibble over the details, but I have no more room in my life for quibbling. It's more important to get on with the essence of things. Easing up and allowing imperfections is friendlier, as long as they are doing no harm, of course. I think the trendy term for it from a few years ago was Wabi Sabi, although I don't recall how it translates.
Anyway, in the middle of all of this I sold one of my conceptual assemblages, the "War Piece." It was a thrill, of course, as it was one of my serious pieces as opposed to a fun/funky one. It's gone to a good home, the office of a grant writer who is also an antiwar activist. Another important development is Steve taking up on my recent idea to have an Online Shop for both ourselves and the gallery. He has been setting up one for one of his clients, and it occurred to me that if he did one for us, he could use it as part of his web design portfolio. The more we brainstormed it, the more we liked the idea and the idea of bringing on board some of the artists we are happiest working with. We will also carry some high-end crafts on it, more than we would in the gallery itself, things suitable for a shop. We've taken the plunge and signed on with a secure server for a year, at the cost of $250. We've already got a merchant service setup for credit cards, so the extra $20 per month to hopefully increase sales and commissions seems like a good idea.
While making the bunny for the front porch I realized that I'm actually beginning to run out of "junque" for my assemblages. So I've put out word among friends at the coffee shop that I'm willing to take some of their broken and discarded bits of miscellany, especially the smaller things. I'm going to be making several smaller funky assemblages for the Art Fair, in the under $100 range. Serious art doesn't do as well as the funky in this art fair, and that's fine by me. I really enjoy making these things and they are still very much identifiably my style. My friend Alice is retiring from her stained glass business and is in the process of moving things out of the shop. She gave me a small box of wonderful brass and copper bits, including antique doorplates and also a deep orange glass ball. They were things she was saving for herself, but she doesn't think she will ever have the time to do anything with them. It's bittersweet, in a way. She's been fighting breast cancer for several years now.
Since the last post the ravine has gone from bare to completely green. In the rainy light it looks magical as opposed to gloomy, as if the new green leaves hold a slight phosphorescent quality. It is supposed to get to nearly freezing tonight, then warm up again, providing some pleasant weather for working on the assemblages. But today is today, and now I must do today's things.
The arbor over the deck is now finished, and the lattice panels on the top are in place. I'm learning to tread that balance between under-activity and over-activity. Painting lattice is something I always used to do by hand, very precisely and wasting little paint. But this time I accepted even before starting that neither my hand nor my back--nor my schedule--would be happy this way, and thus I spread several old painting tarps over the back yard, lay the five 2 x 8 lattice panels on the tarps, and whitewashed them with a long-handled roller brush, as I would a floor. And just one good coat. And on just one side, the side you see when you're sitting in the arbor. If I feel like it, I'll do the "roof" side next spring. So for once I've come out of a project intact and still doing art and not crippling myself in the process. And it looks just fine. Yes, one could quibble over the details, but I have no more room in my life for quibbling. It's more important to get on with the essence of things. Easing up and allowing imperfections is friendlier, as long as they are doing no harm, of course. I think the trendy term for it from a few years ago was Wabi Sabi, although I don't recall how it translates.
Anyway, in the middle of all of this I sold one of my conceptual assemblages, the "War Piece." It was a thrill, of course, as it was one of my serious pieces as opposed to a fun/funky one. It's gone to a good home, the office of a grant writer who is also an antiwar activist. Another important development is Steve taking up on my recent idea to have an Online Shop for both ourselves and the gallery. He has been setting up one for one of his clients, and it occurred to me that if he did one for us, he could use it as part of his web design portfolio. The more we brainstormed it, the more we liked the idea and the idea of bringing on board some of the artists we are happiest working with. We will also carry some high-end crafts on it, more than we would in the gallery itself, things suitable for a shop. We've taken the plunge and signed on with a secure server for a year, at the cost of $250. We've already got a merchant service setup for credit cards, so the extra $20 per month to hopefully increase sales and commissions seems like a good idea.
While making the bunny for the front porch I realized that I'm actually beginning to run out of "junque" for my assemblages. So I've put out word among friends at the coffee shop that I'm willing to take some of their broken and discarded bits of miscellany, especially the smaller things. I'm going to be making several smaller funky assemblages for the Art Fair, in the under $100 range. Serious art doesn't do as well as the funky in this art fair, and that's fine by me. I really enjoy making these things and they are still very much identifiably my style. My friend Alice is retiring from her stained glass business and is in the process of moving things out of the shop. She gave me a small box of wonderful brass and copper bits, including antique doorplates and also a deep orange glass ball. They were things she was saving for herself, but she doesn't think she will ever have the time to do anything with them. It's bittersweet, in a way. She's been fighting breast cancer for several years now.
Since the last post the ravine has gone from bare to completely green. In the rainy light it looks magical as opposed to gloomy, as if the new green leaves hold a slight phosphorescent quality. It is supposed to get to nearly freezing tonight, then warm up again, providing some pleasant weather for working on the assemblages. But today is today, and now I must do today's things.
posted by meg at 9:02 AM
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