Last bits of Artfest

Show and Tell Night was probably even more of a madhouse than Vendor Night, because the rooms in which the art was spread out were more cramped. And of course people want to linger over pieces they like. But it was worth braving the crowd.

The idea is to give you a chance to see what everyone else has been working on in the previous days, and to give you ideas of what you might like to take next year. (Next year?! Can I recover from this year first?!)

I realized that I missed Michael de Meng's classes... I had a ton o' fun in his "Six Million Dollar Man" class back at Art & Soul.
His Morpheus Box class this time really appealed to me (the one in the center, next photo). I think it's the kinetic element -- look, it moves! It does tricks!
Oh, man, check out this artist's Woven Narrative. Coincidentally, I had tried something similar in my Someday artist book.
Anahata's Symbolic Icons still appeal to me, but I have to get over the "my stuff looks like a poor imitation of someone else's stuff" thing. This is how you learn, goofball.
I ran into Michael and complimented him on his collaborations with Judy Wilkenfeld, an artist who will floor you with her heritage-inspired works. (He's her beau, too.) Then he said, "hey, in a minute we're all going to go into another room and Judy's going to show her Twelve Tribes book. Do you want to see it?"

Um, no, I have to meet my crack dealer in ten minutes. OF COURSE I wanted to see it!
The book is an enormous, hand-bound, awe-inspiring artist book detailing the twelve tribes of ancient Israel -- you know, the sons of Jacob: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, Zebulun, Benjamin, Dan, Naphtali, Gad, Asher and Joseph. (Read her March 21st post to get the details.)
Every last detail contains meaning on each page. It's impressive if you don't know much biblical history, but it'll bring you to your knees if you've ever read the Bible's descriptions of each tribe. (Deryn, if you're reading this, you have got to see this on Judy's blog.)

I got a better chance to see the book myself when I went into Port Townsend the next day with Julie and Janine. Judy and Michael were showing it to one of the local gallery owners, and I took pictures of the page devoted to Asher.
Back when we were deciding what to name The Boy (yes, he has a real name), The Husband and I considered naming the baby Asher. It means "happy." (But then I remembered, our kid is half-black. Other black people will shorten his name to Ashy -- which is what black people call skin -- especially at the knees and elbows -- that's so dry it turns white. Um, no.)

Judy really appreciated what I remember of my Bible... I had piped up when she was describing the hand attached to the Benjamin page. Benjamin's mother Rachel, who died after giving birth to him, named him "Ben Oni", which means "my son." But her husband Jacob overruled that and named him Benjamin, which means "son of my right hand" in Hebrew. Judy actually used a left hand, for reasons I really wish I could remember... Oh, it's just so beautiful. Go look at Judy's pictures; they're far better than mine.
I could've stayed much longer, of course, but I had to get back to The Husband and The Boy and make sure they were still in their respective pieces. I didn't worry about them while I was gone, but then when I headed for the ferry home, suddenly I had to keep myself from imagining all sorts of catastrophes. So I distracted myself by thinking about sorting through all my trades...
and I headed home.

Artfest was wonderful, and wondrous, but until maybe today I felt like my innards were turned inside out. I guess it was the extended amount of time spent creatively exposed. I'm just now thinking of making something, anything, new.

Yeah, I'm going there. And you're coming with me.

"Oh boy... she's going to talk about black people again." Yes, I am. No, you don't need a special permit to Go There with me.

Photo courtesy Julie Molina

You may have noticed in the second-to-last post that I said I was going to talk about the last day of classes, "and why all the black kids sit together in the cafeteria." (It's a reference to this book.)
I just had to bring it up when Amy Lee and I met Laren, who's wearing the purple scarf.

Photo courtesy Julie Molina

I said, "You know, if one more of us shows up at the bonfire, we're going to qualify as a mob." (This is a reference to an old, not-really-funny joke that white people think more than three African Americans in one location means the black people are about to form a mob, probably to seek out and mug white people.) We all laughed, but then I pushed it a little.

Now that I've pointed out the elephant in the room... why is it that there are hardly any people of color at these retreats?

I'm plenty used to being either the only African American, or one of less than ten, in a room. This has been my life throughout grade school, college and my working life, really. As a consequence, my circle of friends tends to look like a United Nations gathering.

But I still look around every so often to see if there are any other African Americans in class with me, like this lady who said she came all the way from Baltimore.

I counted. There were six black women at Artfest, including me.

Let's get a few things out of the way: I in no way think this is some sort of conspiracy to keep black people out of this milieu. Nor did I ever feel like a bug on display because of my skin color. And I don't expect these retreats to go looking for people of color.

It's just... why are we the only [black] ones here?

Unfortunately, I can't remember how Laren found out about Artfest. But I think Amy Lee said she'd read about Artfest in the back of one of the Stampington/Somerset arts magazines, in the conventions/events listings. She's also a graphic artist, so she's a bit more likely to run up against this kind of thing.

Amy Lee also mentioned something that seemed to ring true. She said that when she was in school as a kid, art was not really something black kids were encouraged to pursue, as a career or as a hobby. Parents, especially, were more concerned that you got an education that would help you support yourself. (I hear that kind of reasoning from my friends with immigrant parents, only more strongly than in my family.) So: graphic art major -- okay. Fine art major -- not okay.

And it's not just Artfest: at the last moment during Art & Soul last year, I looked around and saw maybe one or two other African American women there. Forget about African American men -- it's astounding to see any men, who aren't instructors, that is.

The Ever-Gorgeous Earl (lots of photos of him in this post at Ricë's blog) had noticed this phenom too. In particular, we wondered: if black women hardly ever come to these things, then where are they? At local dance clubs? Watching TV? (That was the option we thought most likely.) Too damn tired from work and family to do something like this?

The EGE is a black man from Midland, Texas, and not quite the profile of the rare man who does venture into these estrogen-laden venues. But he does because he's a thinker, and he's lots of fun (and because Ricë wouldn't have it any other way).

The best we could figure is maybe it's a combination of money issues, and comfort level with art. I mean, pitching close to $2K, in one shot, at what most outsiders would consider a hobby is something not many black people I know would do. They'd be more likely to recommend you have your head examined (another thing many black people are deeply resistant to doing. "Take
your troubles to God" is what you'd most likely hear, or some version of "suck it up, weenie.")

TV, on the other hand, is cheaper than traveling to any retreat or conference. (I myself spend quality time with our big-ass TV.) So is going dancing with your friends. And no one will call you "bougie" (bourgeois, snooty) or some kind of freakjob for doing either one.

I really don't know. But it bothers me sometimes that so many people who look like me have no idea Artfest exists, much less how much fun it is.

Last day of Artfest classes

Whew! Sorry for dropping out for a whole week with no explanation. I'd like to think I blog without obligation, but apparently that is just not the case. We did lose power over the weekend because it snowed (and yes, it was just OUR neighborhood; we saw everyone else's lights a-twinkling).
Anyway. Day three of Artfest classes had me in Bee Shay's "Handful of Curiosity" class, preparing a tiny little journal case and journal pages. How 'bout this for a sample?
First it was down to the beach, and its stinging wind, to collect anything that struck our fancy.
It could be rocks, driftwood, kelp...
(Yeah, those are all kelp. Even the center one: I was praying it wasn't a used condom. But it had this lovely deep red center, and wavy edges which made me think it was some sort of jellyfish.)
Even some little crab remains.

And then we headed back to class to think on what we'd collected, and why. Then we wrote our thoughts on heavy printmaking paper that we dyed with Adirondack re-inkers. I had all sorts of deep thoughts on the beach: the footprints/pawprints/bird tracks, side by side on the sand, making me think how we all share this little bitty planet...
I thought about jellyfish (because of the kelp I picked up) taking over the seas because of humans overfishing around the world... But most of that slid right off my brain due to fatigue, once we got settled back into the classroom. Such is life and Artfest.

Bee also taught us how to carve little stamps (I can see why that's so addictive), and how to pierce the lid of the tin to attach items on the front. And this was with a small hand-cranked drill, not a Dremel! (Maybe if I get one of those, I won't make so much dang noise at 12:30am making art. Nah.)

As usual, things seemed to click for me in class about 2.5 hours before we had to pack up, so I dashed madly to finish up. I had even less ability to think through the panic because I was so damn tired, so Bee kindly helped me finish the ties that keep the journal in place under the tin lid.

Then Bee and LK Ludwig took our (mostly) finished journals to Show and Tell, where everyone gets a chance to see what everyone else has been up to in their classes. One of mine is center row on the left... again, I was so bleary-eyed I didn't even notice my second tin was up in the right corner.
I managed to do one page in that journal before I had to throw myself into the other portions of class. Still amazed that I got anything done, much less two separate tins.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled Artfest coverage

Another of my new dorm-mates posted a comment -- the talented Celeste. You'll find her in one of the bonfire pictures in the previous Artfest post. I just love it when I know where to find y'all online!

Once again, I have no idea how I made it to Vendor Night, seeing's how I was so dog-tired after another full day of arting. But Morag and I made it to the big ol' hangar where it was being staged. You see why I say "staged" instead of "held":
These are people attending Artfest, as well as Port Townsend locals who were interested in the art. Yes, it was crowded, but not as slammed as the Vendor Night at Art & Soul in Portland, because that was in a couple of large hotel break-out rooms. Plus there was all that overhead space dissipating some of the body heat. So it was warm enough to make you take off your jacket, but not dance-club-crowded.

I made a couple of circuits, because there was no way to move like an assembly line -- people want to look more closely or chitchat with the artist. You had to get in where you could. So when the crowd eased a bit, I saw LK Ludwig close to the front:
Anahata Katkin, selling like crazy (I promised to post a good pic!):
Nina Bagley (she liked my calling card design!) and her pal Misty Mawn, right next door:
I took pics of the necklaces Nina made for both of them. Nina teased me about sneaking in a boob shot.
Catherine Witherell, parting with one of her articulated pendant lovelies:
She took a little time to browse through my artist book:
... and I took advantage of her weakness to scoot in and take a couple pix from the inside of the vendor ring.
Look! In the dark sweater -- a guy at Artfest who's not teaching! (You may have noticed these events tend to be, um, estrogen-rich.)

Another circuit... this time I ran into some of my friends, like Stacie:She's naughty. It says so right there.
And here's Kecia, my Art & Soul roomie. She's a trained professional, kids. Don't try this at home.
And Laren, trying on a necklace (she's on the left):

I knew going in that I probably wouldn't be able to afford anything; most everything I'd love to take home was at least $225 or more. Which is almost as much as an Artfest class. But surprise -- I did find a little something I could afford, at Pamela Huntington's table!
She made a little articulated circus acrobat, and gave him a wire tightrope to walk on. I love the doorknocker, and the text above:
And then I stayed up far later than I should've again, at the "afterparty" we had in our dorm. Someone even had those plastic bracelets they give you to enter a party, so we figured that made our "club" official. Lots of fun.

Next time, on Blogging Queen: Last day of classes, and why the black kids always eat together in the cafeteria.

Why yes, it is, in fact, all about me.

Lots of fun in LK Ludwig's "This is Me" class. The above picture is printed on rice paper -- I still can't believe it turned out so well. I cut the paper down to 8.5x11 size, and set the "Properties" to "Other Specialty Papers." I also kept the other, regular papers in the printer to keep the rice paper closer to the feed part (does that make sense?) and held down the regular papers by hand while the rice paper fed through.

Basically, "This is Me" was an altered book class on self-portraiture. In the class materials, she asked us to print out pictures of ourselves on various types of paper, in various sizes. Here's one on photo paper that I painted with iridescent paint...
Textured paper...

Papyrus (the photo in the middle is of my mom in London)...
Even some regular color photocopies.

Then LK taught us how to alter them in various ways. Some I already knew how to do, like water transfers from crappy photo paper. But a new one on me was embedding photos in layers of sewing pattern and blank tissue paper.
The photos are on the next-to-last layer, stamped with a Michaels-type foam stamp, then covered with a blank sheet of tissue paper to pull them all together. So it's a very lightweight, dreamy kind of page; how thin it is depends on how many layers you use.

Another favorite: spraying patina onto brass or copper mesh. We used various items to create masks against the mesh pages.
LK also showed us a masking method that I used to draw my hand pointing. The lacy pattern is a second mask.LK had told us to think about various favorite expressions or sayings, a couple of which I decided to do on the mesh.
I wasn't expecting to finish the project, just learn the techniques, and I didn't. But it should turn into something pretty interesting, which I'll post when I've recovered from Artfest. This class was fairly stress-free, but the prep was kinda scary. I was just worried that I'd forget something, and I had no idea how to use some of the stuff. But it was a lot of fun.

Next post: Vendor Night madness.

What's that smell?

Hot dogs...
S'mores... Actually, I don't really like s'mores much because of the marshmallows. Yes, this means I am a bad American.

Sorry about the delay in posting. The rest of life had the nerve to get in the way.

Mostly, the bonfire is a chance to art while you're hangin' with everyone else, or just a chance to hang and watch other people art. There's Celeste, Kristi, Cheryl and Layla (waving), faced by Nicole.
I don't have an art journal, just a notebook where I write or try to sketch stick figure versions of ideas. Nothing like this:
But I made Julie drive Amy Lee and me down to the beach anyway to go to the bonfire.
That's the thing about Artfest: You're wiped, but you don't want to miss anything! If you were concentrating this hard on classes at home, you'd never make it to an extracurricular activity -- you'd just wolf something down and crawl into bed.
Random violinist, but she did add atmosphere. Lots of chips, beer, hot dogs, s'mores... and gossip. That's where I talked to the three or four other people who were unhappy about the class I talked about in the first post. It came up like this: "So what did you take today?" "How'd it go?" I finally got tired enough of rehashing it that I just rolled my eyes in response after a while.

And after the bonfire, I still ended up staying up even later! Oy. I got a good night's sleep, but man, it's like living three days in one!

Next post: Day two of classes, with LK Ludwig.

First day of class-"Family Paintover"

I was so looking forward to my first class, "Family Paintover" with Lisa Bebi. I thought this class would give me some creative ways to use my relatives' pix in my artwork. Longtime readers of le blog (um, anyone who's visited since autumn of last year) know I've been getting into the genealogy thing. I've nagged my aunt and cousin for pictures and info. So I figured, even if I don't finish the class project, the instructor will have given me really cool techniques to use.

Well, not really.

The first half of the class went pretty well. The instructor was kinda nervous, since this is her first year teaching at Artfest. So I cut her some slack for going a little overlong on telling us about her published art and gallery shows. She also mentioned that she was taking Vicodin for a knee problem. But Julie was in my class too, so I figured we'd have lots to talk about once we were done.

First up was painting the background, using a bright color under a darker color. Then we used stamps, doodles and whatever else we wanted to partly reveal the first layer of color. (My throat is a little sensitive, so I wore a paint mask while I worked.)
Next, we sealed photocopies of the relative(s) in question with matte medium (so that the colors to be added don't sink into the photocopy paper). I used one of my mom in 1965, one of her father and uncles from the early 20th century, and one of her as a baby.
Finally, we carefully glued them down to the background. Julie made this useful suggestion: Don't put the whole image down at once. Glue a small area down, smooth out bubbles, then glue some more down and smooth out bubbles until you're done.

We took a break for lunch... and in the second half of class, things started to go downhill.

The instructor began by trying to do a quick overview of what was next. First, she began explaining one way to bring color to the people images, and how to marry that paint job with the background paint. Fine, but then she said, "wait, let me show you the 15-minute version I did for such-and-such publication." Okay... we'll go with that.

And as she demonstrated, the instructor veered back to the more complicated version. Then she tacked back to the simpler technique! Back and forth, back and forth. Maybe it was the Vicodin she mentioned earlier that messed with her focus. I don't know.

Finally, the instructor told us to bring up our paintings if we needed help. Which is fine -- but it wasn't fine that she ended up finishing most of the paintings herself, instead of giving suggestions. It was as if her brain had clicked over from teaching-mode to studio-mode.

So I got frustrated... I tried to fight it, but my brain tends to shut down to anything else when that happens. I ended up having to leave the classroom with one of my seatmates, DD Wigley, who talked me down outside.

Julie, on the other hand, has done some similar paintover techniques, and she was working busily. So I said to myself, fuck it. I'm just going to do what Julie's doing. Here's the first result.
I painted over my mom's skin and the other images with a thin wash of Yellow Oxide by Golden, everything except her eyes, hair and dress. (Painting over the black would only make it pop out more, and the goal was to have that recede a bit.) Then I used a heavier coat of the Quinacridone Crimson of the background color, and finally some Nickel Azo Gold to tone things down a little. While it was wet, it kinda looked a mess, but when it dried the color around my mom's face looked softer, like an encaustic (beeswax) piece. That looked roughly like the "simpler" technique the instructor was trying to get across.
The second one turned out better. Here, I decided to go whole hog and paint my mom's skin, hair and clothing with more visible layers of paint. I don't have much experience with acrylics yet, but I tried to mix a color that was close to her skin tone. (The other students were using a pre-mixed "flesh" color. You know, because all human flesh is pink. Or darker pink.)

Then I painted her dress her favorite color, yellow, but it was too close to her skin tone, so I painted it blue, and did the socks in a lighter blue. Her hair is a mix of black, Nickel Azo Gold, and brown. This one looks a bit like the instructor's more "complicated" technique.
The brothers were difficult, because like many African Americans, their skin hues vary wildly within the family. I still need to figure out how to reduce the blackface effect I created on the brothers in the back row, but the seated brothers, who were paler, turned out a bit better.

I wasn't the only one unhappy with the class: that night, I talked to three or four other students who were pretty ticked off as well. And you can see the difference between the student work...and the instructor finished work.
Interestingly enough, my new friend Morag Campbell took the same class in Paris -- and said it turned out fabulously. But not here, man. Let's face it: If you have to do the work for the student, you haven't really taught them how to replicate the technique.

A couple of days later, I ran into the instructor, who had heard that I was very unhappy with the class. She told me she thought my work turned out very well, and that she'd be happy to help me fix anything I didn't like about it.

But I was just so mentally fried by that time that anything she said would've gone in one ear and out the other. I did tell her what confused me. I also pointed out that I would hardly have been insulted had she taught us the simplest version only. She apologized, and said if I email her later she'd still love to help. But you know... I'm done. Maybe I'll noodle with the pieces later, but for now, I'm done.

As a student, I need the instructor to teach me one technique, with no distractions, until I've gotten a chance to do the basics. Add on the options later. It reminds me of what I yell at other drivers when they're weaving on the road in front of me: Pick a lane and stick with it.

Tomorrow's post : fun at the famed Artfest bonfire that night.

"One time, at art camp..."

I'm back -- and crammed to the gills full of Artfest fun and wisdom! Prepare to be inundated for the next week or so. There's just so much to show and tell.The ferry trip and drive through the Olympic Peninsula was pleasant and uneventful. I meant to stop in at the "festal virgins fountain" (aka the Haller fountain) but once I saw the "Welcome to Port Townsend" sign, I couldn't stop until I got to Fort Worden.
My home for the next half-week: dorm 202, front view.
I was on the second floor.
Uh-huh. All the way up there, and no elevators (this was built waaaaay before disabled-access laws, plus it's a former Army barracks.) In spite of having brought way too much stuff, I managed to get it all settled in the right room.
The fantastic four:Cheryl, Liesel, Layla and me.

So I went to stand in line to register, and enter my "Dryad and Child" into the gallery. I think it was only about a half-hour after the Artfest office opened, but it was crammed with people dying to get the party started. Like Maya and Cindy.
Surprise -- I had a hard time focusing on the task at hand, so Cindy pointed out what I needed to pick up and look through. See those big-ass name buttons? Those are actually lifesavers -- your brain quickly becomes too crammed full of techniques and new info to remember people's names.

I found some mint fudge in my welcome pack, so that also helped me keep going. Then I met two more new friends, Amy Lee and Janine.
We took in the sights...... until dinnertime, when I met Julie for the first time in real life!
She's on the left, talking to Tiphoni, one of the instructors and Teesha's daughter.

The food was great, and then the frenzy continued -- this time with trades. (These are optional little gifts given as a little "nice to meet you." They can be anything you want, like artist trading cards or charms.) I didn't even have to get out of my seat! A lot of people were so excited, they finished dinner and began going from table to table, offering to trade.
Afterwards, we all went to the first-day meeting, where Teesha and Tracy introduced our instructors. Then we were free to go to the Art Asylum, which is a room where you can journal...or make something from the donated odds and ends.I was way too wired to focus that much, but I did show people the artist book I began at Art & Soul last October.

Day two of Artfest is coming... gotta continue my re-entry into the rest of my life.

Pocket art, display art

Voila! The magic of Photoshop... the expertise of The Husband... and now I have official business-type calling cards. The Husband gently nudged me to get it done, and man, it was about time. One more step closer to being ready for Artfest.

And if you're going to Artfest, please stop by the gallery area, where my assemblage "Dryad and Child" will be available for purchase.
I know I'm offering this to an audience of artists, in a place where the artists are hoping to make some money to recoup their retreat expenses.

But still... if the piece isn't your thing, talk it up to your friends back home who would like it. You've seen this grow and change -- you're practically a midwife to this baby! Help me find a home for these two.

I don't have issues. I have a subscription.

I have a good reason for the carnage below, but just looking at the picture, it occurs to me that someone might think I have anger issues.I do have to admit there's a twisted pleasure in cutting through plastic figurines. (Did you know the friction of the Dremel cutting wheel heats up the plastic? Keep this in mind when you're pulling off the scrap bits.)

The legs are now attached to a body, of sorts. I can't say much else, because The Husband reads my blog and it's a piece I'm making for him. He's probably figured out what I'm making, even now, 'cause he's one of those disturbingly smart people.

On to my other issues. No more carnage, I promise.

I thought I finished my artist book. But I couldn't keep my hands off the cover, so I gave in. I added Golden regular molding paste and acrylic paint, the last of my copper mesh pockets, and some scrapbook stencil letters. The paint mixture I just kind of eyeballed; I used eggshell white, plus Golden yellow oxide and nickel azo gold, with a drop of brown to make it earthier. I washed the edges with Michael de Meng's secret recipe grungy color.

The pocket was partly covered with a plastic lace doily and brushed with patina. You can still see a little of the scallop-y pattern, even though the copper is folded.

The stencil letters used to be shiny, but I let them sit in a paper bowl with patina solution until I got some corrosion. Ooh, you should've seen it -- the solution wasn't doing much of anything at first, but eventually the stencil surfaces started to bubble and fizz, and when I picked up the bowl, it was warm! Hoo boy. The reaction stopped when I popped the letters into clean water. Let's just call that my contribution to global warming.

Next, I cut down some bookmarks, then stamped and wrote the lyrics of "Someday" on them.
On the back, a favorite stamp of a sketch by da Vinci: it's Cleopatra. (You can see her just a little bit through the copper mesh, if you go back to the previous photo.)
And on the front, the lyrics. I decided to add Alice only because I thought to have her looking at the earth above and behind her. If she'd just been looking at the lyrics, that would've been a little too precious. I like the stamping because each figure is looking off and away to a world that no longer exists.

I finished off the inner covers with a mottled green paper, which worked especially well for the back cover and last page. It makes the letters and gate on the patina'd copper stand out better. The book is now sitting in a box a friend gave me. The box will make a convenient traveling case, since I'm going to bring it to Artfest and show the result to LK Ludwig, in whose class I began this project.

If you're going to Artfest, ask me to show you the book!

"An artist never really finishes his work, he merely abandons it." -- Paul Valéry

I think I'm done with both my artist book (from Art & Soul Portland) and my Artfest assemblage. I took up Jen Worden's challenge this week, being already in that frame of mind. But you never know... I may succumb to messing around with one or the other...

Here is the finishing touch to the heart in the Artfest assemblage, before and after:
And the last pages in the artist book I started in LK Ludwig's class last October. I'm having trouble posting the photos (THANKS, BLOGGER) again. To see the pages from start to finish, go to my Flickr.

As soon as BLOGGER GETS ITS ACT TOGETHER, I'll post the pages here too. Sorry for the hassle.

Practically at the finish line

I put the hair on the mother figure, wired the baby figure onto her back, and took pictures! Unfortunately, I couldn't post them before heading out the door, but they'll be up tonight. Still a few more steps:

-- apply E6000 to the feet of the mother figure

-- wire mother figure's feet into the tree stump and forest floor

-- wire one of her hands to the stump

-- cover exposed foot and hand on stump

-- possibly add transfer and attach heart

-- coat with soft gel gloss and varnish

Hang in there with me!

EDIT: Okay, so this is what they look like from the front:
In west Africa, that's what you'll see when a mother is walking toward you: a woman with tiny feet sticking out from each side of her waist.The baby sling knotted on her chest:And the baby strapped to mommy's back:
If you think that's a lot of yarn for hair, you should've seen the mother before I gave her a haircut and tied up the rest.
I almost put the "branded on the heart" text somewhere else, but I realized how perfect it was on the sleeve.
I need to retake the sleeve detail pictures, but they'll do for now. 'Night.

Ugh! Get on with it already!

I still like the assemblage I'm making for Artfest, but I have taken waaaay too long to get it done. I had the concept way back in late November or early December, because I was drawing the main sketch while I worked the holiday craft fair.This is one of two figures I'm putting on a base, a mother and baby. I started out making the baby's t-shirt a week or two ago. Also added text on the back.

Then last night I made the shirt into a onesie. I finally attached the face and hair last night as well, partly to get myself into the home stretch of assembly. I have this thing about not attaching the face until the end... I mean, I burned masking tape on both the "baby" and the "mother", and I've drilled holes into the mother. I can't do that with a face looking at me! Wouldn't you want to be completely unaware while someone was (re)creating your body?

Yes, the figure has two faces. Yes, that's on purpose. I placed a page pebble (you know, those domed clear thingies) over the first image, then adhered a transfer of the second image.

You know how these poseable figures have no ass? I rolled up some paper and made the baby a tushie (that's Yiddish for "backside" for all you goyim out there.) Did the same for the mom, but added a lot more paper. [Insert "Baby Got Back" joke here.]

After I finally finish this project, I have something in mind for The Husband for our anniversary. (I give him art every year. This was actually his idea.) And I want to finish up the LK Ludwig class project from Art & Soul, so I can show it to her after class at Artfest. Oh, and did I mention I need to finish Photoshopping a business card into existence?

I'd like to do more blog candy stuff, but I gotta get this done! Well, it's been said that if you want to get something done, give it to a busy person...

My heart goes out to them

Hadn't planned to paint a plastic heart on Valentine's Day, but it's worked out that way. It'll be part of my Artfest piece. Doesn't it look like a real one in miniature? Either that, or a piece of ABC gum.

I believe that God made chocolate because he loves us and wants us to be happy. (Apologies to Ben Franklin for that one.) But news this Valentine's Day reminds me to be picky about where a chocolatier buys their cacao beans. Jesus, I've been to Ghana. Some of the most beautiful children I've ever seen in my life live there. But endangering the health and lives of children is an acceptable cost of doing business for some corporations.

Maybe George Bush doesn't care about black people, but FEMA does. Today I also found out that FEMA loves black people in Louisiana. After the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention explained that it's bad for humans to live and breathe in formaldehyde-leaching trailers, that is.

Surprise, surprise: I'm not much of a Valentine's Day person. I do buy cards, and I do like receiving flowers. But I'm no longer the type to make valentines for everyone, and I'm more interested in what those little candy hearts say than how many I can fit into my mouth. (Approximately 15.)

Plus, I used to work in TV news. That either cures you of velvet and lace, or it sends you into the deep end of the frilly stuff.

The Husband says he's not a Valentine's Day person either. But he bought me several sci-fi books (they're also for himself; we have very similar tastes) this week, including a sequel that I'm dying to read. And last night, he bought me a pair of avocados [mmm... drool slobber] and a small box of Dilettante chocolates -- the kind he brought me on our first date. He likes how appreciative I am of the just-because gifts he brings home.

It's probably sticking my head in the sand, but these little expressions of love in my life make me feel like there must be enough love in the rest of the world to change the big stuff. The chocolate-from-Third-World-children and formaldehyde-poisoning stuff.

The best Valentine's gift, hands down: The Husband's belief in me as an artist. He even made me an Executive Crafting Kit, which you'll see if you're going to Artfest. It's a briefcase he outfitted with wooden dividers for my supplies, and strips of Velcro and faux red velvet ribbon hold the contents in their respective compartments. Whenever I go arting somewhere, I get ooh's and aaah's and someone invariably says, "Ooh, he's a keeper!"

Yes, he is.

Young, wild, un-moral. And getting worse all the time

A sneak peek (ha!) at the piece I'm working on for Artfest. Think woodsy mythical stuff. Attendees can bring two pieces to display and possibly sell... ooh, I hope someone wants to buy it when it's finished. I only have so many flat surfaces to display my art here. Someone needs to take this home.

I was looking at the work so far all day yesterday, and this part of it just wasn't meshing yet. I'd incorporated a plastic syringe (no needle!), and it looked interesting, but not exactly part of the whole. So I pulled out my Dremel tool (whoo-hoo!) and cut up some smaller syringes (again, no needle) to add to the roots. I'll need to tone down the part of the root that goes over the edge, though.

I twisted the yarn you see dipping into the picture from the top, and attached it. Then it started looking more like something.
The Husband wandered by and said, "Wow." So I waited warily for him to elaborate. He added, "Now it doesn't look like you just stuck a syringe onto it."

Thank you. That's what I was going for.

I'm really starting to get the idea behind securing elements in an assemblage piece. When I took Michael de Meng's class back in October, he explained structure in assemblage. Gluing one element to another is fine, and sometimes all you need. But usually the elements work better together when you make one part of another.

So you could easily use a strong glue like E6000 to hold heavy-ish things together. But the piece has more structural integrity -- and will last longer -- if you drill holes and then bind them together with wire, for example.

Assemblage also forces you to consider weight distribution. If you give an art doll a metal head, but its body is hollow plastic, you could make the elements stick together -- but the doll probably can't stand or even sit upright on its own. So you'll either have to reinforce and weight the body down somehow, or use a heavier material for the body.

And there you go. Boys and girls, remember to wear your safety glasses when handling a rotary tool. And if you drink, don't drill.

Time's up!

We have two winners! Tally guessed where I kept the figure while I was at work -- right in front of the iced tea...... and Cheryl guessed the closest to the actual number of matchsticks -- 51. (I screwed up the first masking tape t-shirt, so I had to start over.) When was the last time you saw a fire in a fridge? Huh? Can't hear you.

Full disclosure: Tally might've h