Showing posts with label sketchbook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sketchbook. Show all posts

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Fabriano

The Italy sketchbook came home nearly full. There was much to record visually and so much to write about. And so, I begin to work within it and juice every memory I can. 
Color and shape were simply addressed. Over the next few weeks, these sketches will be plumped up a bit and added to. I see many future artworks on these pages. 

The painted paper used as the background in these photos has a story.

One peaceful morning, I took the paper to the terrace at Fonte Fresco and splashed paint on it. Then dabbed my teabag onto it. I let it dry in the hot sun then took it into the garden. I rubbed a crayon on it, picking up the texture of the rocky soil beneath.
It blew away once and I chased it down and rubbed it into the dirt. A leaf from an olive tree felt on it and I traced around the leaf. Delilah, the kitty walked over it. Another leaf blew down and I rubbed it into the paper, it's brilliant green color lending both a scent and a series of smudges. I drew and wrote on the paper and splashed it with Pellegrino. I stamped and rubbed it onto the rocks to soften the paper.
This paper has been embued with Italy.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

more sketchbook doodles

Sometimes it is just right to sit with pen and paper and let the pen take a trip all by itself. Gliding along, twisting, turning, leaving lines behind that seem to have a life of their own. I am looking forward to my class with Carla Sonheim on Sunday. It sounds a bit like heaven.
I'm gonna be off the grid for a couple of weeks for Art and Soul in Virginia and then I fly out to Colorado for a little top secret sumpin' (more on that later). I'll be back!

All the chaos in my studio has been neatly packed in boxes and loaded up for the trip. It looks all innocent as though it was never a big ole messy pile. Barbara left a quote by Anne Lamott in the comments:
"Clutter and mess show us that life is being lived...Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation... Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist's true friend. What people somehow forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here."

Thank you for that and for  all of your lovely comments. They are a joy to read.