I opened a folder marked “Artwork”. It was back before I put in separate folders that claimed the contents were certain kinds of artwork, like books, sculpture, etc.
And I thought it would be fun to pull certain pieces up for moving over here and talking about them. Once moved over here, I walked off the rest of my 8,000 steps and fixed myself a turmeric/ginger old fashioned. Delicious! Anyway just a side note here. I went to the bar Tuesday at 4. Took my new spot. Had a Manhattan brought over by my new friend. Started writing on my legal pad, and some short time later ordered a pizza. By the time it came, I asked for a box. A fellow came up to me and asked if I was saving the seat next to me for someone. My purse was on the seat. I told him “No” and looked down the bar. It was filled and so were the tables behind me. The bartender (my new friend) moseyed over and said, “This isn’t working for you, is it Sandy.” “Not really. Why so many on a Tuesday?” And he said, “Because they have not been able to get in for two days.” Then he suggested we try again in October when most will go home to Florida…a state where even The Diary of Anne Frank can now be banned. So I agreed and will return in another month or so.
So to start, I wanted to talk about how hard it can be to realize that making art for the shear joy of it is getting harder as I age. Why bother? is the question. There is no passion for the making except if it is political statement work. And I will do more for the walls in my garage as soon as I have the energy. But I am alone on that subject. Just this morning I took some flowers to a neighbor who reminded me that she holds opposite political views. I do not understand how she can not see where all this insanity is headed. So we had coffee together in her kitchen and I am accepting that my affection for her is more important right now. It would not matter what I could say, she is locked into her thinking. So I told her that I understood that a person’s identity and sense of self is totally anchored in their beliefs.
So back to artwork. This is an image of the burial of so much of my artwork. I am so glad to have made this choice to see the end of these many, many pieces.
To have this control over what happens is so much better than the unexpected purge of your art by the whims of Nature. This from the unforgiving fires of Dunally, Tasmania some years ago. I went there shortly after so much was lost and was caught up with this image I took of her sewing machine and ironing board. My visit there resulted in an artwork given to their archive center.
At least I had control over the end of my own artworks via a burial.
Other images that caught my eye this morning. This detail of a collaged work. I love owls and doing wood cuts of them for printing.
And my love of so many trips to Australia came through in my art and writings. These burned through Eucalyptus leaves that showed up in so many places with small etched prints of the outback.
I bought a burning tool like artist, Dan Essig ‘s after taking a short weekend workshop with him on surface design and using his. I still hope to use it again but not sure on what….just one of those versatile tools that can evoke so many various thoughts. I still have loads of these Eucalyptus leaves waiting for a place to be of use.
And this one….a detail of one of my antiwar pieces. We are still seeing the death of peace doves with no end in sight with the despicable world leaders taking hold of all our futures.
Here is a detail of the textures of one of these pieces. I love the color and the desire to touch these works.
And this extremely complex egg tempera painting from a photograph I took while staying at a shearer’s shed in Victoria, Australia. I was showing a slide of it while teaching over there, and a young woman came up to me to say she grew up on this sheep farm and recognized the kitchen fireplace. I told her if she gave me her address, I would send it to her. I did when I got home and never heard from her. But that never mattered. I was convinced that she not only received it but had it framed and hung it in a place of pride to tell her children all about the foods that came off that stove.
The painting is only 4″ by 12+” but if you know egg tempera from making gesso from scratch to coat many times while sanding each layer before adding egg yolk to powdered pigment, you understand that it takes more than just a little love for the subject matter.
And this caught my eye as well. It speaks of where I might be now with making art……”toward the unknown”….
Til later….. my glass is empty, and I have the most delicious scones I baked yesterday with ham, cheeses, spinach and scallions to heat up for dinner.
