Step 26.More kid stuff

I couldn't resist a package of Shrinky Dinks when I saw them at the store, and I took another walk down memory lane by making some yesterday. I bought the frosted sheets so I could use colored pencils rather than the slick sheets for markers, and I traced images from my own sketchbook drawings. I put a coat of clear nail polish on them after baking to prevent scratches, but I don't think that would be necessary for the slick sheets. All around, not an environmentally-friendly project.

Even though I know what happens with Shrinky Dinks in the oven, I still squealed with delight watching the plastic curl while it shrinks and then go flat again. It's a very cool process to see. I stuck my two Shrinky Dinks on my key chain.

Step 23. B is for Bee

Back in my little pocket sketchbook.

A friend's writing plus Sakai Hoitsu (again) inspired me to draw this little bee with flowers. 

Step 22. Ah-choo!

I'm stuck at home with a bad head cold. To keep myself occupied between sneezes and coughs, I used my Morning Pages notebook to do some sketching.

I drew a detail from another Sakai Hoitsu painting. The leaves in the painting are different shades of green, and it was fun to blend colors to match them. But, I am craving some real leaves to work from. 

Colored pencil in Eccolo World Traveler notebook.

Step 19. Find inspiration

My notebook sketches, inspired by artwork by Sakai Hoitsu, whose work I visited at the Met this week.

Step 18. Back it up

I added a dark background to the design based on the ancient Roman floor mosaic. The color blue was a nice treat to use. I usually draw plants and don't get use to use a blue like this very often. (The lighting in this photo makes the blue coverage look uneven, but it isn't.)  I've had trouble with white flowers on white paper in the past, and using a dark background color solves the problem. Plus, the repetitive and easy task of coloring in the background is calming and meditative.

I definitely want to do some more borders and scrolls. It's been great fun doing this one. 

Step 17. Break it down

Different people do things differently. Go figure.

When I have a project to do or a day to plan, I need to break it down into tiny steps. Other people don't do that - they jump right in and manage to do a bunch of things at once. That's great for them, but it's not how I work best. 

I know it's popular to multi-task and it seems like most people like to work that way, but that style feels like chaos to me. Focusing on one task is much more comfortable for me, and finishing one step motivates me want to keep on moving to the next. 

A border design of an ancient Roman mosaic I saw at the Met inspired me to draw it. I worked at it step-by-step this week, mostly in the early morning (thank you for helping me wake up early, Andy Traub).

Colored pencil on paper, inspired by Roman mosaic at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC.

I'm not finished yet. The next step I want to do is adding a dark background, which is a new thing for me. I half-expect that I'll ruin the drawing in the process, but that's okay. I'm more interested in trying to add background color than I am in saving this drawing. 

Step 16. Benched

I had an art lesson with Matisse last week. I noticed a Matisse painting in front of a bench on my last visit to the Met, so he was my teacher that day.

I started my sketch with the hair because the shape was simple to copy. As I moved on to the robe, arms, and shoes, I realized everything was a shape. I guess that's a basic thing to know, but it took drawing it for me to get it. I saw a triangle here, a rectangle there. Drawing the outline was like fitting puzzle pieces together. My sketch didn't match Matisse's perfectly, but then again, I'm not Matisse. I'm a student learning from the master.

In the end, I could finally make out the black outline of the chair. Matisse's background is black, and I didn't notice the woodwork on the chair until after I looked at the painting for a long time. The label next to the painting says that Matisse was intrigued by using black as a color. That's a lesson I'll learn another time. This lesson was about seeing shapes.

Julia Cameron writes in The Artist's Way, "Art is not about thinking something up. It is about the opposite - getting something down....We're not doing; we're getting....Instead of reaching for inventions, we are engaged in listening." I thought about that quote as I made the contour drawing. I felt like the lesson of shapes was falling right into my lap. All I had to do was be there to catch it.

I also thought about the saying that a teacher will appear when the student is ready. I won't complain when the teacher who appears is Matisse, even if he appears because I was ready for a bench to sit on. Maybe I'll create my own course called Masters at the Met by Benches, followed by Great Artwork Close to the Restroom.

Laurette in a Green Robe, Black Background by Matisse, 1916. Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC.

Step 14. Catkins on your ears

I grew up in a house with a huge birch tree in the front yard. The tree's catkins were part of many childhood games and a were a source of wonder. I still like finding catkins to examine or draw.

When I saw the catkin earrings at the Jewels by JAR exhibit at the Met, I was instantly smitten with them and had to make a quick sketch.

Clip-on earrings by JAR made of sapphire, bronze, silver, gold.

Nature drawing on a cold, cold January day inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Yes, life is good.

Step 13. Sketch

My Artist Date was back at the Met this week. I went to the Jewels by JAR exhibit. The guard said, "No photography allowed," but I didn't mind because I was there to sketch.

My expectations and interest in the show were low, to be honest, and I went only because I wanted to try something new for me at the Met. In the end, the show did disappoint me, but some pieces absolutely appealed to me.

And speaking of a peel, this piece was my favorite. 

The orange part of the peel is made of garnets. It sparkles like crazy and the colors are gorgeous. The white part of the peel, in between the orange strips, is enamel. The orange blossoms are diamond-encrusted. But it's not the gems that attracted me as much as the shape and color, and most especially, the attention to the beauty of an orange peel and blossoms.

The artist, JAR, has many pieces based on plants and flowers, and I loved every single one of them. I liked them because they were not simply generic "flower motifs," but looked like botanical studies in gemstone. Botanical studies are what I love best, no matter what the material used. 

I only wish there was some information about his attraction to the natural world and the inspiration it gives him. There was no information provided, and that is a big disservice to the audience, and frankly, super lame for a museum show. 

I wasn't interested in his pieces that were "regular" jewelry designs, and I didn't care for his animal pieces, but the plant-inspired pieces made for a sweet Artist Date.

Step 10. Copy.

For my Artist Date this week, I trekked to the east side and made a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I discovered the Safavid tile panel in a gallery I hadn't visited before. There was a bench directly in front of the piece, making an irresistible invitation to sit and sketch for awhile.

As I decided what to draw from panel, I thought the rocks in the painting looked like frogs....well, looked like brightly-colored frogs disguised as rocks getting it on. I chided myself for such a silly thought. But, as I drew, and as I looked at all the birds and bees, and overly large blossoms, and vessels scattered about a luscious garden, I realized I was sitting and starting at a very sexy piece of work. It wasn't what I expected, and being surprised makes for a perfect Artist Date. Makes for a perfect day in general when you think about it. Who wouldn't be delighted with such a sensual surprise, as long as you're patient enough to receive it.

I happened to be dressed to meet the tile panels on my Artist Date. The flowers on the tiles were similar to the flowers on the skirt I wore on my sketching excursion.

Step 9. Finish

I finished my drawing of nuts. From left to right: walnut, pecan, hazelnut, almond, and that crazy Brazil nut that didn't want to cooperate with being cracked open neatly. But, it worked out. Abrigado!

I've been setting the alarm to wake up an hour early in the morning to have to work on projects. That's how I finished this project, by getting up early and working bit by bit every day with my morning coffee. It was easy to work slowly with this botanical drawing, of course, since the nuts don't wilt or change from day to day.

Step 8. Bronx cheer from Brooklyn

Another sketch from the Tropical Pavilion at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I was charmed by this plant, Pavonia Multiflora from Brazil.

I sketched it quickly in the garden and then colored it in a simple style when I got home.

When I researched the plant, I smiled at a description that the flower looks like it's sticking out its tongue. The author of The Artist Way, Julia Cameron, prepares the reader to expect some criticism from others as you work through the book. That happened to me this week, and this flower came in handy. I wouldn't stick out my tongue in response to negative remarks, but the flower on my page will.

Step 7. Stay a little longer

After my Artist Date yesterday and sketching the knitted flowers in the gallery, I wasn't ready to go home, and I had enough time to walk through the tropical plants room before I had to end the date. A couple of flowering plants in the conservatory caught my eye.

I wanted a couple of quick sketches to put in my Artist Date notebook, and that's all. As I was drawing a bloom, a woman stopped to ask what I was writing about.

"I'm not writing anything actually. I'm drawing this flower," I said to her.

"Oh," she said. "Drawing."

And then she said, "Why are you drawing? Is that plant interesting?" I wasn't sure how to answer her question.

"Well, I guess that's up to you to decide," I said.

She must not have found it as interesting as I did because she walked away and didn't linger. I would have liked to linger longer, but it was time for me to head back to the subway and make the long ride home, but not until I stopped at the gift shop and bought a couple of plants to take along with me.

Step 6: Go on a date

I went on a date today. I was looking forward to it for over a week, and it was as good as I expected it to be.

If you've read The Artist's Way like I'm reading it right now, you'll know what I mean by Artist Date. The date is a weekly outing you take by yourself to be inspired, to have fun, to get a change of scenery, to recharge. This week I picked the Knit, Purl, Sow exhibition at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens.

I was smitten, sight-unseen, when I first heard about the show, and going to see it in person was the perfect way to treat myself to a date. The art pieces were larger-than-life botanicals made out of knitting. Seriously. How cool is that?

After walking through the exhibit, I sat down and sketched some of the pieces in my tiny sketchbook I bought especially to use on Artist Dates so I could remember them later when my spirit needs a pick-me-up.

An elderly man sat on the bench next to me and we had a conversation. At one point, he leaned closer to me and asked if I was a knitter. I told him no. "I like to draw," I said. "You do?!" he said in surprise and pulled back up straight. I was drawing the whole time we talked, but I guess some people don't pay that much attention to what's right in front of them.

As he left, I said, "Have a good day," and he said, "How could I not? Every day you're alive is a good day."

I've had a bunch of bad days in recent months, and the man's comments reminded me that I'm set out to have as many good days as I can bank. You've got to store up the good ones to see you through the bad ones, I've learned. But sometimes you don't get an entire day that you'd count as good, so I'm learning to pay more attention to the good moments, even if they last just a minute. Sitting on a bench in a gallery sketching knitted renditions of giant flowers talking to an old man about how he takes his wife to art exhibits counted for a few good moments.

Later, at home, I received bad news in an email that hurt my heart. There's no script to follow, as someone reminded me recently, when you receive bad news. You're on your own.

I picked up my little sketchbook and colored pencils, and I filled in the outlines like a little girl with a coloring book. I colored until my whole universe was on that page and I could live there.

I don't want to show up empty-handed, even on a notebook page. Especially on a notebook page. I need to bring something to it, give myself, and that's where living a life comes in handy. What happens in life goes through my soul and ends up, somehow in some way, on the page. Good or bad, like it or not, that's where I am.

Tonight I went to a book club meeting up the street. I brought salad, friends brought wine and cookies and cheese and crackers, and the host made chicken with cream, mushrooms, and noodles. Now that I'm home again, I will read some, draw some if I'm not too tired, pray, and then I will go to sleep with a cat or two next to me and with my notebook set up for early morning writing.

I'm alive and on the page, and that, I know, means it was a good day.

Step 3. Wake up.

I sipped the sunrise in my coffee cup this morning, the colors creamy and brown in my baby-blue mug. It’s a habit I drink in day after day, consistent as the dawn on the east side of town.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long before sunrise, late last night, I finished the notebook page I was working on.

I love this song in the morning. I like it late at night, too.

Step 2. Putting a pinecone on paper.

It feels weird when the temps reach the 70s in December. Even familiar places close to home seem different when the weather is odd.

Along the path to the pinetum in Fort Tryon Park.

I took a walk in the weird weather. At first the walk felt like an obligation - that it would be wrong to stay inside on a warm winter day so I had better get outside.

But as soon as I hit the park, the walk changed from an obligation to a gift. I was charmed anew by a neighborhood park where I've been countless times. 

I spotted a few things I wanted to draw in my notebook.

Pinecones are tough for me to draw. Part of the problem is that I can't see the pinecone. It's not the first time I've had this blindness when holding something in my hand, and I know the solution: stare at it.

I work best when I can work methodically. Some people see the whole before the parts, but I see the parts before the whole. 

I inched my way down the page, bit by bit, and only after drawing the pinecone could I finally see it. 

Staring at what's right in front of me and putting it on paper turned a familiar thing into something new. I like how that happens.

Step 1. Take two steps forward, one step back. Repeat.

It's never too late to start over. Thank goodness. That's what I'm doing here, starting over.

 

I originally started this blog (twice if we're counting) as an online nature journal. That's cool. I'm still into it.

I'm reading The Artist Way by Julia Cameron (for the third time, if we're counting). Each time I've read the book in the past, I got stuck in a different place. 

Since I'm stuck with my progress on this blog as well, I figure I'd stick the two stuck pieces together and see what happens. I would love to have you join me along the way.

As I blog today, "two steps foward" reminds me of this song.