Spring in New England

It's spring all over today - the sun's over the equator and all's right with the world. In New England, especially out here in western Massachusetts almost in the Berkshires and not all that far from Albany, NY, spring comes in with temps in the 20s. It's not balmy enough to go out without a hat and gloves unless you want cold ears and fingers.

Despite the lawn chairs looking hopeful over there, patches of snow are still hanging on in the shady spots, and ice covers the birdbath.

The appropriate footwear is not sandals but muck boots. The only reason that this boot is not mucky is that the ground is still frozen this morning.

But spring has a way of slowly creeping up before it bursts out.

Iris are greening up in the fishpond.

Although ice covers the surface of the water, it will thaw once the sun has been on it for a while.

Snowdrop bulbs have broken through the leaf cover around Bobby Buddha.

Bobby survives although he had a tough winter and suffered damage to his head where a couple of chunks of concrete broke off.

There is still snow amid the raised beds.

But the garden area is pretty clear overall.

The compost bins stand ready although mostly still frozen. (From the left: collected leaves, current compost, compost made last summer/fall to be spread this spring.)

From the back of the yard, things look pretty good...

especially with a couple of doggy boys added in.

And the pansies we bought the other day survived a frosty night outside and will be perked up again by noontime - the most hopeful sign of spring.

The Presence of Absence

While stumbling around on the internet, I came across this description of Philip Guston's studio after his death, as described by his daughter, Musa Mayer. It was so poignant that I wanted to share it. It's from the end of her book, "Night Studio: A Memoir of Philip Guston." I had read her book a few years ago and found it absorbing and very well written. I recommend it both to those who like Guston's work and those who just like memoirs and/or biographies - especially of artists.

Philip Guston: Talking, 78"x68", 1979

"Beside the glass double doors to my father's studio is a green curtain for privacy, so that no one would walk in on Philip when he was working. Though no one is here but me, I find myself instinctively pulling the curtain across the entryway, hearing the brass rings scrape along the metal rod. Still protecting him. I open the curtain again, reach for the lights, and pause for a second look. The studio walls are bare, with only ladders and light fixtures leaning up against them to disturb their white expanse. Big wooden packing crates for a European exhibition now past, built sturdy as furniture and lined with green felt, are stacked like giant blocks. Stretched, primed canvases stand side by side, waiting. For a year or two, we cleaned in here, but now everything carries a fine coat of pale blond dust. We call this room 'the studio,' but it is no one's studio now. No longer steeped in sadness, it is too anonymous for that. It is no longer his. It's just a room, an empty room. It could be anyone's space, with its flat lights, its silences, its dust. I listen to the high whine of the fluorescent lights, the beating of the silence behind. So this is what death is really, I think, what it becomes. Beyond the pain of loss, there is finally only this sense of absence. The night quiet. And the way that memories blur, running into one another in the dilution of time."

More Little Guys and a Book

Here are the other three little Island Dreams.

Island Dream 4, encaustic and beads, 6"x6"

Island Dream 5, encautic and beads, 6"x6"

Island Dream 6, encaustic and beads, 6"x6"

I do love those blues and greens. They are my natural palette. Of course black is my biggest love...but then there's orange and don't forget red, etc., etc.

Reading Matter

I've always been a dedicated reader, first fascinated by fiction, then developing an attraction to history and biography as I've grown older. Artists' bios particularly fascinate me because I love to find out how they manage all the components in their lives and how they continue to create and develop over the years.

Now I'm reading a biography of Mark Rothko written by James Breslin (not Jimmy Breslin). His early life reminds me of Philip Guston's - Russian Jewish immigrant parents, raised on the West Coast but came East to make art, no real art education, Americanized name, etc. Rothko, however, was born in Russia (Guston born in Canada) and emigrated to America as a boy, going straight to Portland, Oregon where the family had relatives.

What actually put me on to reading about Rothko was finding out for a post that one of the Merkins was supposed to be the largest private collector of Rothko's work. J. Daniel Merkin, dethroned financial wizard, has in his collection two 9x15-foot studies for the Four Seasons murals that Rothko never sold to the Four Seasons. The real murals are owned by the National Gallery. What was the story about these huge paintings that weren't sold to the Four Seasons, I wondered. So when I came across this book on Amazon, I bought it used for half price. The only problem is that it's a big, heavy hardbound book. I read it in bed and one of these mornings I'm going to wake up with a black eye from the book hitting me in the face when I doze off. (That's one big advantage to Kindle - it can't crush you when you hit yourself in the face with it.)

So, I'll post more about Rothko when I finish the book - if ever.

Meanwhile, I haven't been reading my usual magazines so I have no exposes or cause celebres or gossip. Boring, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

New Encaustic Paintings

Strange and ironic, but with all those nice panels I've been building, I decided to work first on six little 6"x6" panels that I had bought some time ago and had kicking around the studio (literally). I was kind of pressed for time with all the woodworking I had to do but desperate to melt some wax and paint. I thought I could work up the little panels pretty quickly. And what do you know, I did!

Island Dreams 1, encaustic and beads on panel, 6"x6"

I've never worked this small but it was fun. I kept my palette to the blues and greens of the last work I did (plus black and white) because those paints were on the griddle and incorporated some beads that Lynette gave me when she cleaned out her studio. Here are some images of the little guys. I'm not saying that this is their final version, but for a first pass, I'm pleased. They reminded me of Pacific islands when I painted them, so I named them Island Dreams.

Island Dreams 2, encaustic and beads on panel, 6" x 6"

I'll just show you three for now.

Island Dreams 3, encaustic and beads on panel, 6" x 6"

Encaustic News

(1) On the subject of encaustic, I heard today from Gwen Plunkett, who writes the Ancient Vessel blog and is a member of Texas Wax. I know her from the encaustic conference. She also has another blog - Bits and Pieces - where she has posted a lot of detailed information about making encaustic medium, making and/or buying panels and referrals to books about painting with encaustic. She also linked to my post(s) about building panels and using power tools.

(2) Approaching soon: the deadline for Beauty and Its Opposites, the conference show to be juried by Nick Carpasso, senior curator at the DeCordova Museum in Lincoln, MA. CDs of images have to be received in Beverly, MA by April 1st. You can download the prospectus and entry form on the conference blog.

(3) Also approaching are spring shows by New England Wax: Heat Stroke at the Saco Museum in Saco, ME (April 3 to May 30 - juried by Katherine French, Director of the Danforth Museum) and Ancient Medium, N.E.W. Terrain at the Art Complex Museum in Duxbury, MA (May 17 to September 6 - juried by Craig Bloodgood, Contemporary Curator at the museum). Note that the Duxbury show will be up during the encaustic conference and we may try to arrange a daytrip to the museum.

(4) And 'tis the season for submitting proposals to various venues for shows in 2010.

Such a lot for artists to do. However do we manage?

Road to Infinity

Yesterday I did something that I've been wanting to do for a long time. You know when you're driving along a highway and it's a beautiful sunny day and the road stretches out in front of you and it seems to go on forever, to, like, infinity? I've been wanting to capture that feeling in a photo. It's the Great American Dream of the Highway with Dinah Shore singing, "See the U.S.A. in your Chevrolet..." and topping it off with a big wet smack. What could be better?




As bad as texting while driving is, photographing while driving is probably even worse and not recommended. (Don't try this in a car.) I didn't abuse it and luckily didn't crash, but I was driven to it (so to speak) by my desire to take photos for the weather blog that I've been participating in for the past nearly two weeks. I've been walking around a lot with my camera in an effort to capture things and post them to my partners in Sweden. It's really made me see more clearly and deeply (I am a camera.) and has been an enriching process. I'll miss it when it's over after this weekend. And then move on to the next thing, I suppose.

In My Life

1. My Work

It's been so long since I posted any pix of my paintings, that I'm starting right off by showing one.




This is "Antares" from 2007, encaustic and mixed media on panel, 12" x 36". It hangs in my living room on a deep turquoise wall and I pass by it all the time on my way upstairs. I always get a whiff of beeswax as I go by. I've never shown it anywhere outside of home.


2. Death of a Giant



This huge maple tree grew in the yard of my next door neighbor until she had it cut down this week because she thought it threatened her house. The base must be about five feet across. It took three guys a day and a half to cut up just this part of the trunk that was left after they had already worked on cutting down the tree for more than two days. I tried to find out something about the relationship between tree diameter and age, but couldn't, although it does seem that the tree must have been there for a very long time. It seems a shame to bring down this big specimen when we need all the carbon dioxide exchange we can get. On the brighter side, our yard gets more sun and our neighbor's house is likely to be a lot hotter this summer.

3. Dealing with my mother's aging

My mother is now 92 and lives alone in an elderly housing complex near Cape Cod. About a year and a half or two years ago she stopped driving when her car broke down, and then she gradually stopped going out at all. She has deteriorated since then both mentally and physically but has been very resistant to receiving any help. After battling with her and then insisting, I have been able to get someone in to do some cleaning and assist her with bathing and changing her clothes, but now the situation is coming to a head. I should mention that she takes no medicine - rarely even an aspirin - and is apparently healthy - or as healthy as a 92-year-old can be.

(My mother, center, a couple of years ago eating shrimp and talking to my cousin at a party.)

The problem now is that I have to take her to the doctor next week and I had to announce this to her today. We had severe drama for quite a long while, but I believe I prevailed. Just in case, I'm bringing my brother with me next week to help. He'll have to manipulate the wheelchair we'll rent anyway.

All this is so stressful and brings up so many emotions that I think I'd better go to the doctor, too. Maybe I can get a twofer rate next week.

Wood Working

The woodworking (panel making) is progressing nicely. Now I have 8 panels done: 3 - 12x24 and 5 - 16x16. Today I ordered a sheet of birch ply cut by the lumberyard into 10 - 16x16 pieces (exact) with 3 leftovers: one piece 16x48 (approx) plus two 16x40 (approx). I also got 8 pieces of 1x4x8 to make the cradled backs. This will amount to 128 feet of 1 1/2" backs. This whole thing cost me $113 - a lot less than finished panels cost, even the cheap ones.

But beyond cost savings, there is a certain satisfaction in making the panels. I like the feeling of accomplishment in seeing them multiply, even if my carpentry leaves a little to be desired. I hope I get better with practice.

I'm a little behind the curve in basic knowledge because a long, long time ago when I went to high school, the girls went to home ec and the boys went to shop. I, on the other hand, being in the "business curiculum" went to neither - instead, we had an extra shorthand class or something. But I think that this detriment in my official learnin' in both the "boy skills" and the "girl skills" has allowed me to self school in both areas without prejudice even though I'm playing catch up.

So I'm going to show you my studio in its present state. You may wonder how the hell I work in there - and so do I sometimes. But here is the woodworking end of my studio right now. This is the end that I don't mind getting sawdust in because everything is wrapped or too far away to get damaged (I hope). (That black table with the wood on it may look fancy but I found the base in a dumpster, cut down a piece of old plywood for the top and hit the whole thing with glossy black paint. Voila!)

I have my table saw (this is the actual thing). See that dumb black bag underneath that's supposed to collect sawdust? And doesn't really.

Then I have my trusty chopsaw for cutting the lengths of wood for the cradle backs.





And here is the push stick I made for pushing wood through the table saw - impressive, huh?

These are some of the tools I use to put the panels together. Wow, a hammer and pliers! This is the table I paint my acrylic pieces on so the plastic is covered with old paint - time to replace it. It's at the point where the paint comes off on everything - including the new panels.

So there you have it. In the studio in living color, warts and all.