Challenging Myself - A Month of Orange

I decided that I need a distraction from distressing national and local news stories, worries about a sick beloved kitty, guilt over neglecting exercise and not doing artwork.  So it occurred to me to take on a little challenge, something positive. 

The colors in our yard are gradually changing, and I began putting a few autumn decorations out, and many of them feature some shade of chrome yellow, or orange.  I will keep an eye open for those colors, photograph them, and share them here.  Maybe I can find some good quotes or poems to go along.

This photo is of a black eyed Susan vine.  It's an annual, planted to replace the honeysuckle vine that finally reached the end of its days.  For weeks I thought the seeds were duds, didn't sprout, but then a couple weeks ago I checked the trellis on the south side of the house and there they were.  ll that was needed was patience.

Nothing Gold Can Stay
Robert Frost, 1874 - 1963

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Summer is Over

This week in southern Wisconsin has been glorious - blue skies, temperatures in the 70's, low humidity, few bugs.  These are the sort of days that when I was teaching, inside a cement block room all day, I wanted more than anything to be outdoors.  I appreciate my freedom to come and go, to paint my front door, plant a pretty mum, photograph at the cemetery, take a top down ride on a country road.

But, summer was good too.  I backed away from entering my art in many shows.  I did enter two WRAP (Wisconsin Regional Art Program) shows, and came away with mixed feelings.  I enjoyed both presenter/judges - each as very accomplished and enthusiastic.  But neither struck me as being a very articulate judge.  I can accept differences in taste and opinion, but I want whoever is judging the show to present clear criteria for what makes one piece better than another.  Simply saying "I liked it" isn't enough, and neither is the perennial lament that the show was difficult to judge.  Sure it is.  But the judge's job is to have, and to apply, reasonable criteria and explain it to the people did the work, and paid for the privilege to show it and have it judged.  For the judge to admit they know little about sculpture, or photography, or abstraction, and then go on to judge anyway is a disservice to everyone.  Maybe there can be two people at these events, a presenter and a different person as a judge. I don't know.

I went to fewer Monday evening figure drawing sessions than in previous years, mostly because through much of the summer it seemed that Mondays evenings were stormy.  The studio is about twenty miles away, and sessions are in the evening, so if the weather is bad I generally just stay home.  That said, I went to about four sessions, and did some drawing that I enjoyed.  The last one I attended was a month ago, and I only took out the sketches to spray fix this morning.  I'm always surprised by them, when they've been put away for a while, and usually like them better after that breathing time passes.

 This weekend is the State WRAP event in Madison.  My painting didn't win any special award, though my little artist trading card sized painting was chosen to be included in a calendar, and sold, which was nice.  I look forward to the social event on Friday evening and the speaker on Saturday.  It's humbling to see how much good work non-professional artists around the state are doing.

New Collages

I go in streaks, painting for a while, then going back to cutting and pasting.  On Friday I drove to Madison to deliver a painting to a WRAP show at the Pyle Center, and took the rest of the morning to visit Artist and Craftsman Supply, and the galleries at the Overture Center and the Chazen.  My favorite show was at the James Watrous Gallery, a retrospective of the work of Madison artist/illustrator David McLimans.  I had never heard of the man, but his collages of animals and insects created from bits of maps spoke directly to my heart.  So much vision vision and skill!  Unfortunately, he died of a heart attack last year.  Why had I missed his work before? Anyway, I wanted very much to clear away the paints for a bits and get out my own papers.

These are three recent collages I did, all from my stashes of found and altered papers. All are six by six inches, on gessoed watercolor paper, designs inspired by examples in a book by Randel Plowman.  Some of my old and now disliked watercolors are hidden underneath. 

Waste not, want not.