Party of one.

Today is my birthday! I had grand plans to release a collection of digital printable artworks in my shop today. The ideal collection size in my mind was thirteen. Seemed appropriate seeing how my birthday is on the thirteenth. Anyway, with one successful digitized artwork all ready to go it seemed possible last week.

It was not possible. Ha! I was excited to just allow myself to try this out to see how it went. As with most new things, there is a learning curve! I didn’t quite factor that in. Also, a high quality scanner works much better than a camera for this. (Added to the wishlist!) So, while I do have plans to add more digital artwork in the near future, that day is not today.

Today there is a party of one pretty color swatch all ready for you to purchase and print. I thought it would be much better to offer one printable that I am super happy with, rather than more that I am not excited about or worried about the quality of. I guess as important as it is to allow myself to try something it is also important to allow myself to change plans.

So if you are interested, please purchase and print away! I order a sample of this one for myself from Mpix, and I loved how it turned out. I ordered a giclee print and it turned out great. I think it would look good on regular photo paper too, I just love that matte finish! The print size for this artwork is set at 5x7”, the same size as the original. Hopefully as I climb up that learning curve I will learn how to make multiple sizes.

Now on to birthday celebrating. My daughter has been working on a very chocolate cake, and I can’t wait to try it. As always, thank you for reading.

Borrowing boldness.

I am not a bold person. If I get the wrong order in a restaurant I will more than likely just smile and say “Why, yes! Everything is fine!” when in fact I didn’t order this food at all. I am bad about sticking up for myself, promoting myself, believing in myself. So, when someone else is bold, does promote and believe in me, I am so so thankful.

Our friend Al proposed an idea to me early this year about collaborating on an art project. He is a stained glass artist (so cool!), and thought that one of my paintings would be beautiful in glass. Would I like to do more in this style? Sure! Could we work together? Yes! He had a connection at a gallery. Should we approach them to showcase our work? Yes again!

So, with much thanks to Al’s boldness, three of my horse paintings along with his amazing stained glass pieces are currently hanging in the High Frenquency Arts gallery in Fishers, IN. Our horses will be up through the month of September! I am so excited and thankful for this opportunity.

Thanks Al, for everything.

100 days.

One thing that I have noticed in my forties, besides gray hair, is that I am becoming more and more self aware: I am starting to see things in my art and in my life that I consistently love, and turn back to again and again. Geometric patterns. Repurposing things. Old things. Art that feels like a puzzle. Everyday things. Small things that come together to make bigger things. This last thing is probably why I love The 100 Day Project so much, and am so excited to participate again.

Even though I have gone through this (five times!) before, it always seems so daunting to begin. What can I do for 100 days? In a row? So many possibilities. I tossed around lots of ideas, and while I was driving one day I think I finally put it all together. (Does anyone else get ideas while driving?)

Early on when thinking about this year I had some bigger, challenging ideas, but they seemed a little clunky. Maybe next year. It made more since in this somewhat chaotic season of my life to keep painting in the direction of my curiosity. In other words, keep doing what I’m doing:

  • What’s the project? Continuing with my love of postcards, I am going to complete a series of 100 3x3” postcard based artworks. Some will be painted on, some will be patchwork, some may be a combination of both. The only thing that is set right now is the size and the postcard base. I’m leaving everything else open for now.

  • Why 3x3”? They’re small and doable for 100 days in a row. The average postcard is around 3x5 or 4x6, so this is a perfect size to be able to be able to work on just the postcard without first mounting it to another type of paper. Keeps it simple. These 3x3” pieces can stand alone, or later combined together into a few larger pieces. I can see large postcard quilts in my mind…

  • What do I need to do to make this work? Last year I batched painted all my paintings for the 100 Day Project. While I was at the studio I painted groups at a time that I would then post over several days. It worked, but it didn’t. I struggled a lot with getting in a grove, and it was because I never really found one. So, my goal this year is to try and do as much daily work as I can! To practically make this work I need to make it easy: enough supplies at both home and the studio to work both places.

So here’s to The 100 Day Project! (Everything starts up tomorrow!)

Feeding the goats and finding beauty.

We have four goats. I don’t know if you have much experience with goats, but they are a lot. Not really hard to care for, but a lot in that they get into a lot of trouble. They get out a lot. They want you a lot. Our goat journey started with one tiny bottle baby, Cookie, and has sense grown to a little herd of four. Cookie was joined by Dough (we thought she needed a companion), and then later two more ladies, Doodle and Tater.

Until recently, the two older goats were in the horse barn, and the other two “babies” were in their own little shed/pasture area. Now they are all combined in the shed/pasture area. Hijinks ensued. More escapes. More heads stuck in things. (Buckets, fences.) With more goats in one area, feeding them has gotten a little trickier too. Its hard to just open the door to the shed and put their food in when you are feeding by yourself because they all gang up on you and before you know it they are out the door while you are pouring the food in the trough. So, I have taken to climbing over the tall fence so there is absolutely no chance they will get out. It takes longer, but worth it because you aren’t chasing them later.

I was thinking about what a pain this is the other day: this climbing of the fence to feed four smallish animals. I’m sure your average farmhand would have a better solution than me, but for now this is what I have figured out. I was walking behind the barn the other day on my new feeding route, and stopped and realized what a beautiful view it was. The sun low in the sky, dew still clinging to all the weeds. Beautiful.

It is so much quicker to walk through the barn lot and throw in feed the “regular” way. But, these goats have forced me to go the long way around the barn, through the weeds. Would I go the long way on my own? No, climbing the tall fence with two buckets is hard! Taking time to notice beauty is sometimes hard. It takes a slower walk, and sometimes an inconvenience. In her book I Guess I haven’t Learned That Yet, Shauna Niequist writes an essay about beauty and putting yourself in the way of it:

“Whenever possible, walk out of your way for a few minutes and take a few deep breaths somewhere beautiful—whether that’s a forest clearing or a French bakery or a path through a prairie or a cobblestone street. Take the long way sometimes, reveling in the discovery of beauty, noticing everything you can—what it smells like and the slant of the light…”

Thank you goats, for forcing me to take the long way, and for adding more beauty to my life.

I”ll even take the mischief that comes along with it.

What's old is new.

My husband and I have three children: a boy and two girls. When our third child was born, I looked at her in the hospital and thought: “I think I’ve already had this baby before.” Of course, I hadn’t, she just looked so similar to her brother when he was born. I recognized her instantly. As she grew, she changed and took on her own look, but those first moments in the hospital she reminded me so much of a baby I had already given birth to.

I’ve been working on a postcard series for most of the summer. Mostly for the sake of fun and experimentation. Until recently I painted on them without altering the actual card. If the postcard was 3x5”, I left it that size and painted on it like that. The other day I wanted to experiment a little more, so I cut down the postcards to 3” squares, then combined a couple together. Ah, so new! This little twist was so fun, and brought some new energy into this project. I painted these cards at home, then I took them to the studio to mount them on a wood panel.

After getting them all glued on at the studio, I carried this new piece around, admiring it, and then I saw an old painting I made probably five years ago. I looked down in my hands. “I think I’ve already had this baby before!” This new postcard painting I just made shared genetics with a much older watercolor painting. I think this is so interesting. Interesting that I didn’t really think about how I had already made this exact pattern before, and also how it felt so new. Even thought it was old!

I’m not sure if this means if I’m on the right track artistically, or if it just means I left a previous style too soon? I’ve thought a lot about the triangles and what they mean to me. Maybe I’m just not finished with them yet. Who knows. Maybe theses art babies of mine look alike now, but each will have its own identity later. Whatever it means or doesn't mean, I love them both.

The blue ribbons of summer.

Have you ever seen people list things that are “saving their life right now?” I’ve seen posts like this floating around the internet, and I really love them. Author Barbara Brown Taylor is credited with originating this idea. We are quick to make note of the things that are killing us, but can we list the things that are giving us life? However big or small?

While I like the saving my life idea, author Shannan Martin made her own list (I think I read her version in an email she sent out) and titled it something like the “blue ribbon winners” of her life right now. I love that idea, and was inspired to make my own list. Now that school has officially started, and this season is drawing to a close, I would like to award the following blue ribbons of summer:

  1. My black rubber barn boots. My kids all wear Crocs to the barn. I have before, but there is a small problem with this: the holes. Pig shavings and feed and who knows what else (I know, its poop) get on your feet and it is nasty. Pieces of straw enter the holes and poke your toes. Enter the tall, very un-cute, black rubber boot. Do my feet sweat in these. Yes. Do they look stupid with my shorts? Yes. Is there pig poop on my feet? Nope. Blue ribbon. I’ll save my Crocs for the garden!

  2. Tiny garden bouquets. Making a big bouquet can be intimidating, but tiny ones aren’t! I love clipping a few little blooms for the bathroom. They just make me so happy.

  3. The gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John on repeat. One chapter a day. I’ve done more difficult Bible reading plans, but I am discovering so many things I never noticed before by slowing down and reading less at a time.

  4. Walmart pick up. When my kids were tiny did I take them to the grocery store? Did I do that? I don’t know, but if something needs a blue ribbon it is the Walmart pick up.

  5. Halo Top Coconut popsicles. Tell the Walmart that you need these.

  6. An art project. This is broad, yes, but my mind loves a project. I was feeling so blah about summer, then I gave myself a specific project: painting old postcards. Honestly, I didn't even work on this project all that much, but just having it in my mind helped my summer. When I did have some time to paint, I knew what to work on.

  7. English paper piecing. This is basically a granny/pioneer version of quilting, all by hand. You cut or punch cards into shapes (usually hexagons), cover those with fabric, then sew them together. I have been doing it forever, and while I never really have any finished quilts to show for it, I love it so much. It ticks all the crafting boxes.

  8. Preordering books. I love to read! I love getting books in the mail! I love learning about all the new books coming out, then I preorder a few. It gives me something to look forward to. (Sometimes I forget that I ordered them, then it is such a fun surprise when they show up in the mailbox!)

  9. Our parking lot kitten, Selma. In June, we found a little kitten wondering around our church parking lot. We took her home, and have babied her ever since. We’ve had a lot of kittens on the farm, but we’ve never doted on one like this before. She has brought such joy and fun to us.

  10. Indiana State Fair workers. In particular I’m talking about the older gentlemen in the information booth, Bob on the radio on the free tractor trolley, and the parking workers with kind words as they waved their flags and parked all the cars in the livestock parking lot. We were at the fair with our pigs for three days, and gosh, these people were a bright spot. Blue ribbons all around.

Not failed, just unfinished.

Before my troop of people and animals headed out to our county fair in July, I was in full snack prep mode. Yes, there would be fair food, but we also needed some snacks (lots of snacks) back at our camper to get us through the week. I decided I would make some homemade Chex mix. I’ve made a couple different versions of Chex mix before, but not very often. I found a recipe for what I would call a very traditional version, and this particular one cooked in the crock pot. I got all my stuff, customized it a little by leaving out the peanuts and adding in Cheez Its, etc. (Does anyone like or eat the peanuts?)

Well, my personalized version of this crock pot Chex mix came out soggy. I did everything like the recipe said, but it was a flop. A fail. Or was it? Maybe it just needed more time in the oven. So, I poured it out on a baking sheet and baked it until everything was nice and crispy. Not a fail after all, just unfinished.

Can paintings be like Chex mix? Of course, that’s why I wanted to mention my almost failed county fair snack situation. My last collection of paintings has sat on my shoulders for a few months, feeling like a failure. I was so excited about theses paintings, I picked out my recipe for them, and added in everything I liked, but they fell a little short. Soggy, if you will. Out of one hundred pieces I only sold four, and this should have surprised me, but it really didn’t. I’m terrible at marketing, for one thing, and maybe these paintings just weren’t finished. I usually love lining up all my paintings and signing them all and varnishing them as I tie up a collection, but I didn’t do that to this group. I think I knew that they needed to go back in the oven for a bit.

So, that’s what I’m going to do. I”m going to pull some things I love that are missing, and add it to the last farm abstract collection. I’m going to let myself experiment and play. Maybe it will work out and the paintings will finish out like my Chex mix. Not failed, just unfinshed.

This journal entry also serves as an announcement that if you liked any of the paintings from the farm abstract series as is, you might want to go ahead and buy them! I’m going to start pulling the listings out from the shop as I rework them!

“Red on the Horizon 2.0” This is a painting from my farm abstract series that I reworked with some collage. I still don’t think its quite finished, but it feels closer than it did before!

A pity party and some postcards.

About a month ago I was all ready to throw myself a pity party. Why? It seemed like every family I knew (in reality it was three actual families and one other family I don’t know but follow on Instagram) were preparing for exciting international travel over the summer. Italy. France. Italy and France! I know its not super awesome to admit feelings of jealousy, but that’s exactly what I felt. The only travel on our summer schedule was a pig show in Iowa, which my daughters and I opted out of. Livestock shows are fine, but the Almalfi coast they are not.

So, in this summer of my life I am not traveling. I am staying home with my family and my garden and all the animals. This is fine and good, and usually I am so satisfied with my life. Its all very layered, as these things are, but feelings of discontentment caught up to me. I love the animals, but the livestock shows are not quite my jam, and I was dreading a summer full of them. (Confession: I am a 4-H dropout. I think I completed one or two years of pig showing at the county fair before my dad and I came to the conclusion that it was more than OK for me not to do it.) Isn’t it ironic then, that livestock shows are exactly my husband’s and son’s jam, and my girls are pretty happy to join in too. My people could make and jar up this jam they like it so much. God is so funny sometimes!

Why am I sharing all this? Well, I think it pairs nicely with my art. I recently completed a series of farm abstracts inspired by the rural landscape for The One Hundred Day Project. Typically after I wrap up this project I flounder for a bit (or months) without a focus. I’m a person and and artist who needs structure or I do nothing. Knowing this, as I was working on that series I was thinking about what I should focus on next. I pulled out some old postcards that I had collected and painted on a few of them as I worked on the abstracts. I loved working on them! So, before I even had my “I’m not traveling” pity party I knew I wanted to do something with these postcards.

I have a lot to figure out as I go, but I’m really excited about them. Postcards from home. That seems just as ironic as the 4-H dropout surrounded by show animals in her adult life. I hope to write more about the process and my thoughts behind it as I go too. Art really is such a wonderful thing. Just thinking about this new collection of work has made my mind open up and be thankful again for the beautiful life right in front of me. Pig shows and all.

Why abstract?

 
 

While I have been making art for a long time, it has only been in the last few years that I have gotten more and more into abstract painting. It has crept up on me, this abstract work. Someone recently told me they saw my paintings online, and they didn’t get it. “Not getting” abstract art is a pretty common thought. Why would an artist paint abstractly if they have the ability to work more realistically? (I used to assume that if someone was an abstract artist it was because they couldn’t draw!) I know the style isn’t for everyone, but I know that at this time in my life it is for me. Here are a few reasons why:

  1. I’m drawn to it. When I scroll through Pinterest or Instagram, I seem to always slow down when I see an abstract piece of art. I want to study it: the colors, the layers, the shapes, the feeling. I love a large piece of abstract art, how it fits boldly in a room. If I’m in a gallery or space that has abstract art in it I want to stand with my nose in it! I just really love looking at it.

  2. It’s challenging. Before I had even dipped a toe into the water of abstract painting I sat up on my high horse of more realistic work and thought: “Abstract art is so easy. Anyone could do it.” Now, of course, I am off the horse trying to make my own abstract work and hello, it is hard. Abstract work is art boiled down to its very simplest forms. Shapes, colors, values. When something looks easy, more than likely it isn’t! Even if an abstract piece is drawing inspiration from life (like paintings in my farm abstract series) it still has to be able to stand on its own without a more obvious subject to support it.

  3. Abstract art makes me feel free. This is probably my favorite thing about abstract art. It is so freeing! To look at, to make. When I first started making paintings that were non-subjective I just called them geometric paintings: I used watercolor to make repeating patterns of triangles. Lots and lots of triangles. I think I started making these triangle paintings just to test colors, but I loved the process to much I kept making more. Something about that repetitive work calmed my mind, which tends to run a little on the anxious side. This was the first time I think I made art for the process rather than the product. This has opened up a whole side of art making that I honestly never considered before. Free indeed!