After the Floor Mopping, Before the Dancing

[The post that would never finish. I started yesterday morning/popped in yesterday evening and now here we are Sunday afternoon. Apologies.]

Hey there, Saturday Evening, you're lookin' mighty groovy. Myself, I'm feeling busy-day-post-nap mellow, but I think a good few hours of dancing will cap this week off nicely. Dancing is in order.


I began a post this morning which went something like this:

It's snowing outside, a white fluted bowl of coffee is to my side and I suspect I could stay in flannel (pajamas) all day. An older friend from down the street has organized a small group outing to see my print show at the hospital, so I can't dally too long, but wanted to at least pop on.

A somewhat stressful week, with refreshing bursts of excitement. Yesterday around lunch I sold a Geese Suspect You Are Withholding print on Etsy, which added spring to my step. I re-listed it. Within a couple minutes, it sold again! What the! Turns out Etsy had included it in their daily email blast of "Etsy Finds." The power of Etsy! My shop views shot to 2,000+ yesterday. Maybe it'll sell a few more times, who knows? I sent two packages yesterday, have three more waiting on my dining room table, with four more to be packaged up. Woohoo!

To boot, destinations include: Skiatook, OK and Tasmania. And this on top of selling a few framed prints from the hospital this week, and another framed print to a lovely woman in Ct.

Best name of the week: Ermalinda.

***

And then I was off to the hospital, with two friends from my block. We met a third neighborhood friend (who's a doctor there) and they asked me questions about woodblocks and reacted to different prints and just made me feel really pampered and honored.

I know it's easy to feel grateful when good things happen and people are so kind and generous with their time and regard, but days like this (and yesterday with the sales -- and the fact that Etsy would give me a shout-out -- plus a long, really connected phone call with my sister) remind me that life can feel so *abundant*/full of kindness/full of potential.

It's so easy to fall into a head-down kind of drudging existence, with the twin burdens of obligation and self-imposed  expectations of how things ought to be, but there's such a broad spectrum, every day. And you never know when you'll be surprised by unexpected twists, good or bad~~

And certainly, going to one's first solo show is a perfect time to reflect on how much you can achieve incrementally. Forty five minutes here, half an hour there, over years can bring about the realization of hopes/dreams. Or, if one is braver (or manages time better, or borders on the obsessive), you can astound yourself within a year, even...

Book artist Barbara Brown had incorporated snippets of a Goethe quote into the binding and pages of a beautiful (and complex) book that she displayed at WSG Gallery last year. I had heard parts of it before -- and doubtless you have encountered it -- but here is a translation. I can't profess that I Iive my life with the desired level of commitment, but the passage is a wonderful one to contemplate and revisit. And perhaps it seeps into one's life the more you call it forth:


"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back-- Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now."

I like that they thought to put the partial pint below the original full print.

So that's that. The show is up through February 6th. Lovely things have come of it, so far and it was certainly great way to end 2011 and begin 2012! 

Nearby, the jewelry of Birmingham Michigan based jeweler Beth North graced several cases. Sharp, swanky and tempting! Kerrytown hairdresser-cum-boutique Heavenly Metal calls her "adorable and cool and has it totally going on..." The wildly popular Berkeley Yellow Door Market featured her as Artist of the Week last April.

Blue chalcedony+sterling silver bracelet, $188.

Down the hall and closer to the cafeteria, we find the stunning mosaic beadwork of Betsy Youngquist. The closer you get, the more fantastic it is. Delirious color, almost lost to gaudiness, but for how beautifully and meticulously it's carried out. 

Her web site informs readers that her artwork "reflects a fascination with the intersection of humans, animals, and mythology. Stemming from a life-long love of all creatures great and small, Betsy’s work weaves together the human and animal spirit through a surrealistic lens."

I must confess, her pieces featuring human faces on animal and insect forms freak me out a bit, but the ones within the hospital are wholely animal -- or at least not displaying a baby/baby doll aspect to them. The finished pieces represent collaborations, as Youngquist's exquisite beading is layered on top of forms created by sculptor R. Scott Long.

Sister Loon

 

I also fancy her eye jewelry. The most bad-ass (or cheesy? I can't tell, because I never stopped loving it) ring I owned in high school featured a completely realistic brown eye, cupped between two sterling silver hands. My teen self would NEVER have abided Youngquist's profusion of color, but I can appreciate its rewards now...

On my end, my body's still sore from dancing and my head's a bit hazy. It may be the day I finally take down the Christmas tree. Here's to a great Sunday, Everyone. May your surprises be only the best kinds...

Manservant, Bring Me My Wine. Is the Dog's Suitcase Packed and at the Ready?

In the spirit of scientific studies that conclude, yes, bullies select unpopular kids as targets and no, meth is still not good for unborn babies, I'd like to begin by saying that why yes, bra shopping is still atrocious and NO I won't be detailing that. Trying on new fuzzy pajamas helped me get past it. They may or may not have little white dogs sitting expectantly on suitcases. But you're probably already aware of my gear -- tonight's writing feels cozier, doesn't it?  Alas, I don't have too much time to write as I need to be getting to bed.

In any case, thought I'd revisit the last outing to the DIA. I *do* wonder if you're like For heaven's sake, how many times is she going to write about that museum?? But there's always something new that catches my eye. And it's usually part of a larger, wonderful day. To wit: this time around, Compatriot and I met for Indian buffet to start. We should have found hammocks afterward, but blithely thought the chai would kick in. Silly us, it was clearly immediately absorbed by all the rice, naan and curried awesome.

So we arrived drowsy and in need of tea. But what a scene we encountered! We knew it would be busy, being one of the last days of the year, but figured the Rembrandt's envisioning of Jesus would take in most of the crowd. We-heelll, no such luck. Called that one wrong. People: everywhere. Children: everywhere. Sweet little separate expedited members line: mysteriously absent.

We looked around in a confused fashion as we were funneled into the slowly shuffling rope maze. But that's the only time I ever get to go in a separate line! One or both of us said to the other. Airport comparisons murmured their way along the line. I thought of the irritating, officious men who are still, after years, affronted at having to take their shoes off; naturally they are wearing nicely buffed shoes with tightly tied laces. Luckily, no one suspected we would be knifing the art; and we eventually made our way. The crowds really didn't thin out in most galleries, but at least this was more of a niffing-around visit than a visit with intent, so we bopped around until we grew weary from visual stimulation and marble floors.

In between, some discoveries...

Moods of Time: Evening, by Paul Manship

This was my absolute favorite piece this time around. We trudged up one set of stairs and boom! There it was! I can't ever remember seeing it before, but how could this be? I must have exclaimed, because a man walking past with a little folding artist's stool said, looking back over his shoulder, "It's one of my favorites!"

I love the composition with its satisfying arc of movement, the rewarding roundness of the cloud bed, the stylized owls. I had never even heard of Paul Manship.

But apparently my ignorance didn't prevent him from having quite a fine, illustrious life before all of us were born. Imagine that! Born in 1885 in St. Paul Minnesota, his artistic schooling included the Institute of Art there and the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts (my Mom went there! I think. Am pretty sure.)
At 23, he became the youngest sculptor to be awarded the American Prix de Rome, which translated into further study at the American Academy in Rome (1909-1912 ). Even though John Singer Sargent was some 30 years older, they eventually became great friends -- he named his only son after the painter (plus his father). Manship was initially a painter, but decided to explore sculpting, due to color blindness. More artist history here.

This sculpture was one of four Manship created for the 1939 World's Fair, all depicting times of day and erected within a reflecting pool in New York City. According to text on The Pygmalian Syndrome Art Gallery's site,

"Time and the Fates Sundial and the four Moods of Time were in many ways Manship’s favorite works. They summed up his obsession with time. He believed that a major purpose of art, especially of art in the classical tradition, was to reconcile the passage of time with permanence. The monumental groups, which were executed in staff (a plaster of Paris compound) for the world’s fair, have been lost; but the working models of various sizes were done in bronze after the war, and they are among Manship’s most ingenious, complex, and inventive works." [Also at above link].

 You can see black and white photos of the sculptures together in the reflecting pool here.

Wikipediasts tell us that Manship created over 700 works during his lifetime, including busts of Teddy Roosevelt, John D. Rockefeller and Robert Frost; a site for the restoration of a Manship work at the United Nations informs readers that at his very first exhibition, he sold all 96 bronze statues shown.

It would be lovely to view outside, wouldn't it?

Bonus Manships

Group of Bears: Patt Hoffman Friedman Memorial Playground

Dancer and Gazelles, 1917 (not at DIA)

Portrait of a Lady, Nicolaes Pickenoy 1630

And then there was "Portrait of a Lady," just inside the entrance to the Dutch paintings. I don't have much to say about it, because what's left to say about a masterpiece? I always like taking a moment there. It's kind of wrong to even have photos of it, because your camera/photoshop/everyone's monitor can do nothing but mess up the exquisite coloring. Whether it's your thing or not, standing before her, you can almost feel the pulse in the veins of her hands, the chill weight of the jewelry, the restraint and comfort of the opulent stomacher. 

 

...And then there was THIS bastard!

 

Seriously. All he does is sit on his little day bed, eating grapes.

His man servant comes and goes, pouring libations. Very nice posture.

 No acknowledgment. Not that he expects any.

 Amassing all manner of vessels and then tidying up and putting them away.

Whew, I love this feature. One of the great interactive spots that the museum rolled out, in line with its huge overhaul a few years back.

A few more assorted museum snaps here.

Otherwise, I'll end with two other things:

Geishas in the Gift Shop

Remember how the Threeorfour and Five got *really* excited about ice bat and I conveyed through K that he had moved into the gingerbread house? Well, I took it one step further and sent them a postcard, ostensibly from ice bat, about eating candy in the house and watching me draw. Would they believe it? Would they suddenly become sensible and pooh-pooh it? Last night I found out that not only were they totally amazed -- but based on the postcard's front, of a Chihuly sculpture in Japan, they have concluded he has TRAVELED TO JAPAN. I had NO IDEA! Perhaps I'll go back to the gift shop. 
  
The night ended back at Zola's.

La Coloniale was quite nice.

I Bet We Could Knock Brad off the Monkey Bars with this Wiffleball

Tallyho, Readers!

I'm imagining most of the world out tonight, for some silly reason. Am restless, but upbeat. It's loud here, though only because I have the poor habit of turning the music up ever louder. It's a wonder I don't have tinnitus at this point... But surely, at least part of the groundless optimism* results from revisiting Temper Trap, as HOW can one listen to Sweet Disposition and feel woeful? The top comment from that video is "i put this song on repeat and stared at my ceiling fan for an hour" -- pretty much my experience when I first encountered it. And also: guitar guy, I'm sorry they're throwing drum sticks at you. Cute topknot.


*who says groundless pessimism? No one. Shouldn't it be in our lexicon? Pessimists have low confidence in life, but high confidence in their own ability to assess situations and predict outcome. Kinda funny, huh. Even in mindset, the comfort of familiarity can trump openness and happiness? I say this as more of a pessimist than an optimist. Someday I hope to be a lapsed pessimist~~

I also have a spring in my step because there is a talk of a trip next month! Not a long one and not across the globe, but a place I haven't been to before! Just to go, just because! I had utterly forgotten how trip anticipation makes one so hopeful, giddy almost. What possibility, what a thrill! The superstitious side of me warns against mentioning the destination, as that would cause it to backslide out of existence. But no! And see, if you have visited me here before, you may be saying: Talk about superstition, didn't that woman from Rust Belt TELL you she saw travel for you in the early Spring? And didn't you joke about that? Well, true. And maybe that slightly later trip would still even hold and maybe THAT would be international. For truly, my world needs shaking up and maybe 2012 is when the shaking should happen.**
 
{**Additional superstitious protective shield: please no shaking in horrid, atrocious ways. I'd rather not become homeless, lose the use of any appendages, watch my loved ones suffer, or be mauled by a tiger. Thanks for taking note.}  

Maybe for a change of pace, I'll become a lunch monitor. You know,

"Includes lunch room set-up, lunch card distribution, monitoring student check-in tables, selling milk & snacks, supervising students and assisting with their needs during lunch, assisting food servers, monitoring lunch time recess and clean-up of the lunch room." 

I can sell milk and snacks. From what I can recall, I think I'll also need to start collecting stickers again and trade sheets with the well behaved kids; snatch pudding cups back from schemers and smack metal tables with my wooden spoon for intimidation purposes, when it seems the room is the verge of a food throwing melee.

Luckily, I already have wooden spoons for hand pulling woodblock prints, though obviously I can't bring my favorite spoon, because if that one broke against the table, it'd be like Samson with his hair cut -- all my power would instantly drain away and the food fight would not abate.

I will also probably need to start wearing makeup and curtail my cursing habit. The latter part is probably advisable anyway. The description also informs the the applicant must be "able to lift 60 lbs. individually." Which, fine. But it will take a while that way.

Pooh: "Think, think, think."

Or maybe I'll come up with a brilliant larger project, I'll hop onto Kickstarter and ask people to help me out.
 
Oh! Speaking of which, one of my favored up-and-coming local bands has done such a thing. Check out Hand in the Ocean's plea/song snippet here. Aren't they fun? Wouldn't it be fun to see how they grow and how their music gains in complexity? They're not even asking for that much ($600 according to the page, $800, according to the vid-- some confusion there). 


It's a good thing they're not asking for more though, because they really ramp up the incentives. For $50, they will come to your house with some mysterious horror movie (hmmm.) $125 supposedly gets you this: "FIREBALL!!! Nate and Jay will be your hired Fire Breathers for an evening of your choosing." {Plus a download of the live GBS Detroit E.P. before it's released} $200 brings a house party. One can only assume if the ceiling were in the thousands, firstborns would be involved. If you like 'em, feel free to throw some money their way. $5-10 is easy to part with...

Other ways in which I probably won't shake up my life in 2012:

I promise not to start stealing shoes. Or leave them on my front porch, especially when they have such personal significance. Like dear little friends for my feet.








 

Invest in more holiday lawn gear. Though really, penguins aren't a bad way to go. Especially when they have so many accessorizing options. Earmuffs and no ears! Super-cozy! Does Tophat feel locked out of the Santa contingent, or do the Santas envy his dapper state?





 

Were they blueberry? if so, no wonder they were left for dead.

Eat ground candy.

I have finally learned my lesson.

Not that I'm applauding my camera skills, but isn't this a great depiction of post-holiday slump? Taken on the last day of 2011.





 

Refuse homemade food or drink. This pretty little thang was from the Compatriot. Love the loopy, silky bow! Just enough to announce its special status. Cardamom vanilla vodka.  It smells heavenly. I drank a little with Fever Tree tonic last night and it was dreamy. 

That's as good a note as any to end on. 

May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back and may your future reading material be less blathery and more meaningful...

A Wee Nip of a Post: Messy Frosting Trumps Orderly Lines, Bear Hat Wins Out.

A wee little post to start my year off right. Sketches and scrawlings for a larger project finally took over my dining room table again, after Christmas passed. Per usual, I spent more time frowning at the papers, walking deliberately past them to heat water for tea or glaring furtively in their general direction...but even so, I made a little bit of progress.

This evening, we have a close up of Cakeasaurus on the verge of snatching a cake.

Originally, it was just going to show a really nice slice of cake. 

You know, toothsome texture, luscious frosting. But then you know, he's really not compassionate. He wants the whole thing. So, better to have it untouched.

And then again, I do fancy a domed cake plate. And the hand is nicely ominous, non?

Pretty close to being ready to transfer onto a woodblock.

I liked the design on the left for the first day after I finished it. 

In all the months following, it has rubbed me the wrong way. I'd look at it, become annoyed, but never have a better treatment in mind. But suddenly this afternoon, I thought of a doodle from my to-do notebook. Whether the adult naysayer stays around remains to be seen, but I think the little girl in her animal hat (hastily scrawled of a small passer-by at the Rust Belt Market last month) holds the key to a better illustration...I was so convinced that we needed to see the child's face, being kept from a party. But somehow the refusal works better, seeing her from behind, with the woman facing us, refusing us entry. Still in-process, clearly, but it's such a good reminder that it's almost always that small shift in perspective which suddenly helps, especially when one had become convinced there was no good solution...

Here's to a year of growth and stimulation, enough joy to balance out the sorrows and the ability for all of us to be grateful and appreciative...