WHAT'S AFOOT?

I am writing from a rehab facility with my leg elevated due to fractures in 3 places in the tibia near the ankle.  It is held together with screws and plates. Next week I will get a real cast and hopefully it will be weight bearing so I can get around easier. I am developing upper body strength, however. 
I was working at the RV resort helping with arts and crafts when, carrying a large box of plastic bottles for a sand art project, I miss-stepped and crashed to the ground. 
So I am meditating on the meaning of this sudden change in my lifestyle and the fact my summer plans have been redirected.  My husband's plans were changed and the RV park plans were also messed up.  I shall leave it there until I see the direction I am meant to go.

An Opportunity Long Wished For

Many times I have perused the back of Artist Magazine and read exciting offers to come away to some foreign land and paint under the guidance of an experienced teacher. I say to myself who does this?  How lucky they are to be advantaged enough to enjoy this luxury.  To pursue their art in an atmosphere conducive to creating and learning and discussion and immersion is pure joy.  I was given this opportunity this June, on short notice, and of course rushed around to get everything I needed for the trip. 

Skopelos

I came home from Greece a couple days ago armed with paintings, sketches and photos and potential for lots of artworks.  I flew over in business class with a longtime woman- friend on a 747 and was treated like a queen with Taitinger champagne, a seat that morphs into a bed and a menu of culinary delights. Changed planes in Heathrow for Athens and overnight in Athens in a hotel that looks out on the Acropolis. We met our artist companions and our teacher on the rooftop along with  Tom and Isabel Dempsey, who operate The Center For the Arts on Skopelos, and who organized the next 10 days.  Next morning we hopped on a bus for the 3 hour drive to the port then took the hydrofoil boat for a three hour ride to the island of Skopelos. Skopelos is about the size of Nantucket.  The Aegean Sea was heavenly blue but I would see it change to turquoise at the island.  What followed was nine more days of painting, walking to the port to get food and a critique of the days work.  We worked on a variety of media, experimental for some.  I tried using paint sticks-oil paint in heavy crayon form which one can mix with a medium to make it goopy. It was fun but if I decide I like it I will need a lot more plat-time with it.

Chapel on top -site of Mama Mia movie

A street in the residential area of Skopelos

From then on I went back to the familiar watercolor paint and Arches quarter sheet paper.  The teacher, Nan Hass Feldman, gave us parameters every day such as - using complementary ( color wheel)  colors, using contiguous colors, doing a panorama and  paint without a prior sketch. Nan would come around and see what we were doing and make suggestions or show a different technique. At 6PM we met at the terrace and she gave us all a critique. Isabel, well versed in Skopelean culture and language gave us a talk on the history and culture and taught us a few useful words in Greek. She said the people would be delighted if we tried,  anyway.Then we went for supper.  We ate outdoors under the stars at a different taverna every night.  We always had a Greek salad-fresh, ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, black olives, onion slivers and a big slab of delicious feta cheese on top. The island recently got electricity and indoor toilets which were very nice and spic and span.  The last night we went to Isabel and Tom's house for supper and Greek dancing and a poetry reading by Prof. Alan Feldman, who was given a real laurel wreath for his head by Isabel. They live high up in the hills overlooking the crescent port. It must be a 45 degree angle driving up those tiny narrow roads but the view is spectacular. Wine grape vines climb over the portico.  Olive trees everywhere.  The people who have olive trees get the olives pressed locally and it is so sweet.   I tried to buy a small container but that was not available.  There are no screens in the windows or doors. No need.  I felt like I lived outdoors for 10 days.  Cats roam the port and sit by every taverna table looking for something to drop. they aren't really pesky but rather polite.  We had car trips to other parts of the island for painting opportunities that were gaspingly beautiful.

Temple of Athena

On the return trip we stopped for an overnight in Athens and a climb up the Acropolis to the Parthenon, the temple of Athena, the Erectheum and the amphitheater..  It was 100F and boy o boy, it seemed like a frying pan up there. Oddly, I saw two cats hanging out up there and decided my storied cat, Godfrey, will have to have an adventure on the Acropolis. F. harry's toe

Situated for creativity

Maybe serene settings are too relaxing for working at writing and painting.  This is an RV Park in Massachusetts and the leaves are still soft and pale like infants.  It's quiet. So quiet you can hear the barred owl whoosh from one tree nearby to another, meet his friend and whoosh away.  Then a shriek breaks my reverie and a night hawk is announcing his arrival.  A chipmunk noses out some Bulgar wheat I poured out on top of the head stone at the fire pit. Ah Ha, Tex the cat is interested. I don't know how he heard Mr. Munk but Mr. Cat flattens out his body and watches, motionless but swiveled eared.  How can I work with all these distractions!  The food chain playing out. The hawk holds the power. I better get my cat in.

A medium change

For the first time in five years we spent the winter in the North and happily for us we had little snow. In early March the snowdrops were massed around the stonewall and the tentative pussy willows were ready for picking. Mid March sweeps of crocuses were on the banking next to the driveway. Then came the daffodils and magnolia blossoms and then a cold spell. Oh well.

I have ventured into unknown territory and armed with books from the library and a tin of 130 Prismacolor pencils I am enjoying my new medium. A very different technique. Time consuming...I worked on a nasturtium leaf for almost one hour this morning. I have done a sunset from a photo I took, over the Quartzsite, AZ mountains quite successfully. It's framed and ready for someone besides me to enjoy. I did an illustration for my next book and am 'painting' a Bosc pear from all angles in my new sketch book.

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The Opening of my show was a delightful event for me. I had put out a guest book and the comments ranged from 'beautiful show' to 'impressive work'. I had 32 paintings including oil, watercolor and pastel. I didn't have room to hang more so I will take down the 'solds' and replace them. One of the paintings that sold was one that I almost didn't hang. This painting caused verbal admiration from some and was snapped up quickly which surprised me. It was the depth and intensity of the blue in the water and the sky they said and that I should do more seascapes. There were other favorable comments on water scenes so I think maybe I should focus more attention to them in the future. These comments were an unexpected plus side to having the show. I wasn't too surprised to find that the scenes of Our American West didn't evoke much interest here in New England. I had sold five in California and Texas. The exception to that is paintings of cowboys and horses would sell in the East.

It was a lot of work for a long time in the making but as in other arts unless you put yourself out there into the public area you won't know how your performance is rated. The show will be up another three months and I hope to get more feedback.

Here's the article in The Worcester Telegram & Gazette

http://www.telegram.com/article/20120120/FLASH/101209890

Seize the Day

For years I have been fixed on several goals; to paint as I travel the country and accrue paintings for my one woman show--(which happens to be this coming January 7th,2012 thru March at the West Brookfield library on Main Street at the lights. Reception from 11:00 to 2:00) and to write and illustrate my children's book series.

Since October 2011 the manuscripts have been shelved temporarily and serious painting has slowed. I am painting with an interest in small 3 1/2 X 5 1/2 watercolors.  Maybe these will be easily saleable. . My new site on etsy.com named zsazsa's art studio is a test to see how well they are received. They are quick to paint, (though they are carefully done) come with mat and backing and in a clear sleeve. They are easy and inexpensive to mail and affordable.
Through the ages artists have adapted for the commercial purposes. Starving in an attic studio is romantic and idealistic but survivors cave to reality.  This is  my way of doing what I love without piling up stacks of canvasses creating a storage problem.
Little paintings of birds and wildflowers and sets of 4 little herb pictures are being offered. Also, glass Christmas tree balls with painted birds and mistletoe personalized for the buyer with any name on them. Naturally this is seasonal.
 On the etsy site I go by the name swedishblond.

connections

I can't decide if people understand the occupation of a painter. To the question of 'What do you do" I say 'I paint' (or words to that effect). Then people say " Oh my mother used to paint" or "my six year old loved to draw". Isn't that nice, I say. What does that information mean? Are they saying they understand the frustration of trying to capture the atmospheric color change in pond water at dawn on a cold April morning? Are they commiserating-remembering the hours spent working on one's craft? Maybe they recall mother sitting at the kitchen table after her housework is done dabbing away at the paper or canvas copying a pretty picture and getting Oh's and Ah's from her amazed family that the painting looks just like Aunt Felicity.
Satisfaction and joy is felt by both handwringer and dabber. Her family will treasure mom's painting as will the family of of the agonizer. Perhaps the agonizer will develop her art that will reach more people with it's message.
Or, maybe it is simply a way of people connecting with each other on a human level.