'Cause every bit of land is a holy land
And every drop of water is a holy water
And every single child is a son or a daughter
Of the one earth mama, and the one earth papa
...
You say you're a Christian 'cause God made you
You say you're a Muslim 'cause God made you
You say you're a Hindu and the next man a Jew
And we all kill each other 'cause God told us to? Nah!
-from "Hello, Bonjour!", Michael Franti.
Possibly the best hymn or holiday song ever written. Good to dance to, too.
song lyric of the day:
So you are a superstar
Get off the cross
We need the wood
-Tori Amos "Big Wheel"
Get off the cross
We need the wood
-Tori Amos "Big Wheel"
dedication
When I happened upon this book (read about the project here: http://www.1000journals.com/):
I knew I had to take it home when I read this dedication:
Then, this week, I met someone who had also (co)wrote a book essentially dedicated to those same people (like me) and to helping them recognize their creativity and embrace it, set it free, play with it like a good friend. I watched him demonstrate techniques on using watercolor colored pencils to a group of students in a guest-artist workshop made possible by an excellent and hard-working middle-school art teacher. He also brought lots of his own visual journals for us to see and browse. The guest-artist was Eric Scott (on the right, below):
These are the authors of The Journal Junkies Workshop, which is an excellent beginner's guide to visual journaling.
I had actually misunderstood how to use the watercolor pencils (when I had tried to learn on my own), so Eric's demonstration was reinforced by technique instructions in the book:
The book's table of contents gives you the sense of fun they took into organizing the techniques and equipment suggestions:
I love the book and had an extra surprise in discovering a new direction of research and reading in the book's own dedication. This one is dedicated to Dan Eldon, a man who began his own first visual journal as a young boy in Africa and continued the practice throughout his life...right up until his death at age 22 while on a photojournalism investigation in Somalia. Intrigued? Indeed. Here's the site about his life and work, but also the titles of the books that sampled from his many journals:
hat heads
I like hats. Especially cloches and anything with feathers. Of course, those kinds of hats don't have much of a place in the normal American middl-ish-class life I have. I certainly don't attend horse races.
But hats like that don't like to hide in closets, so I really really want some nice vintage milliner heads for displaying them, maybe some glass forms, and so forth. Well, that's not happening.
I decided to make my own. I began with the idea of using a clear plastic form, on which my black cloche for the Dorothy Parker costume was shipped, as a form for building up a whole head. But I'm new to paper mache and it soon became clear that a whole head might be a leap for a beginner.
Then, while on safari in A.C. Moore, I happened to look up on a top shelf and espy a topiary form that my mind's eye immediately transformed into the perfect beginnings of a hat holder!
And so begins a new adventure:
I used a basic finger nail file / emory board to smooth off the seams and rough spots of the green ball and gessoed this one without the paper mache layers. (I was out of sandpaper and I thought using the palm sander would be overkill.)
I plan on making faces on them akin to the vintage millinery heads used centuries ago. This is one of my favorites, which is actually a contemporary piece modeled on the style of those made in the 1800s:
But hats like that don't like to hide in closets, so I really really want some nice vintage milliner heads for displaying them, maybe some glass forms, and so forth. Well, that's not happening.
I decided to make my own. I began with the idea of using a clear plastic form, on which my black cloche for the Dorothy Parker costume was shipped, as a form for building up a whole head. But I'm new to paper mache and it soon became clear that a whole head might be a leap for a beginner.
Then, while on safari in A.C. Moore, I happened to look up on a top shelf and espy a topiary form that my mind's eye immediately transformed into the perfect beginnings of a hat holder!
And so begins a new adventure:
This is one (above) with layers of paper mache put down first.
Here, I've applied gesso to the first one, on top of the paper mache layers. You can see what the foam looks like prior to any work.
I used a basic finger nail file / emory board to smooth off the seams and rough spots of the green ball and gessoed this one without the paper mache layers. (I was out of sandpaper and I thought using the palm sander would be overkill.)
I plan on making faces on them akin to the vintage millinery heads used centuries ago. This is one of my favorites, which is actually a contemporary piece modeled on the style of those made in the 1800s:
I found one (not this one) from an online auction with an expected price over $1500!
song lyric of the day:
"You've made me into someone who should not hold a loaded gun"
-from "So Long" by Ingrid Michaelson
-from "So Long" by Ingrid Michaelson
barnes & noble bathroom stall wall
I love my iPhone. Quality photography whenever you need it, on the fly...or when the fly is down and the toilet seat provides the picture stability.
I am brave with words, but haven't been so with visual arts. If my pages are clunky, smeared, poorly designed, amateur, lacking proper technique...well, they are indeed. The point is to find confidence in the pages of a private journal, a book that closes, that can be tucked under a pillow, hidden from company.
The problem is that I'm a closet exhibitionist...if that's possible. And so my first pages are begging to strut their stuff on a public stage, and so they end up here.
If you don't find my own work interesting, I have begun a rich library of visual journaling and art-related links under the "Blogville" heading to the right. There are some incredible artists our there that can serve as inspiration where I fail. Also, I've included links to resources related to visual journaling and private art as a therapuetic exercise. It is a powerful thing to quiet the mind and focus on beautiful colors and lines. I feel some kind of intent and productivity when I have ink and paint under my nails, paper mache glue splashed on my clothing (I've come to love aprons), and a messy work desk. This intent brings peace to my mind. Even if the end product is dorky and only has any real significance for me.
The piece of printed page in the green journal page corner (below) is torn from an old hardcover edition of Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.
The problem is that I'm a closet exhibitionist...if that's possible. And so my first pages are begging to strut their stuff on a public stage, and so they end up here.
If you don't find my own work interesting, I have begun a rich library of visual journaling and art-related links under the "Blogville" heading to the right. There are some incredible artists our there that can serve as inspiration where I fail. Also, I've included links to resources related to visual journaling and private art as a therapuetic exercise. It is a powerful thing to quiet the mind and focus on beautiful colors and lines. I feel some kind of intent and productivity when I have ink and paint under my nails, paper mache glue splashed on my clothing (I've come to love aprons), and a messy work desk. This intent brings peace to my mind. Even if the end product is dorky and only has any real significance for me.
The piece of printed page in the green journal page corner (below) is torn from an old hardcover edition of Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.
NY Times Sketchbook
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/books/review/31shapton.html?ref=books
Leanne Shapton: "I made a series of paintings from the book, and afterward, whenever I read a story, any mention of a tree stood out like an old friend. It’s hard to find stories about Canada that do not include references to its trees. Here, from my bookshelf, are passages from some of my favorite Canadian authors on their leafy heritage."
Leanne Shapton: "I made a series of paintings from the book, and afterward, whenever I read a story, any mention of a tree stood out like an old friend. It’s hard to find stories about Canada that do not include references to its trees. Here, from my bookshelf, are passages from some of my favorite Canadian authors on their leafy heritage."
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