art (appropriately) amiss

this.

2012-01-25T10:28:00.000-08:00

The drummer for our Country Band shared this link with me, and I am speechlessly delighted and inspired. Yes and Yes.

aren't we all shapeshifters

2012-01-17T15:23:00.000-08:00

A subtle houndstooth pattern behind, and delicate feathers underfoot, this fox is a meditation on, yet again, seeing things from both sides. This was the first piece that I began for the Lone Pine Show, and I started it in early summer, in a time that was a bit of a kaleidoscope for me personally. The fox had been in my sketches for a while, and when I finally started to dig deep into it's mythology, it just proved to be another little lesson. Foxes symbolically carry a strong sense of intuition, of maneuvering in tricky situations, or being a bit of a trickster themselves. They are adept at walking in between shadows, in order to observe what is really going on. Trying to figure out the foxes relationship to it's environment (as well as the fact that there is a pile of feathers underfoot, now how did that happen?) was a great metaphor for taking a look at the featherbed I'd made for myself, and the mischief I sometimes distract myself with. I mean, have you seen Wes Anderson's version of The Fantastic Mr. Fox? Talk about distracting yourself with trouble...

It could also be said that on some levels, this is simply a portrait of Kelty.

She's pretty foxy.

fancypants, errr, sorta

2012-01-07T12:12:00.000-08:00

Thank ya kindly to the Source Weekly for the cover lovin.'

because your story weighs so much more than my story (six of one, half dozen of the other)

2012-01-04T18:54:00.000-08:00

Elephants arrived in a couple of my pieces for the show at Lone Pine. I had been thinking about the idea of 'the elephant in the room' as well as the myths of Ganesha, the elephant-headed hindu god who is the Remover of Obstacles. What could be a more looming obstacle at times than the elephant in one's room?

The picture I used for reference for this piece was an old public domain drawing of elephants at a circus. As I developed the piece, it seemed to make sense that the elephants weren't blatantly different sizes, and the sea-saw they balanced on needed to be a delicate sort of perch. I wanted to have them on display, but not with too much pageantry. The circus tent became a backdrop of simplified Eye shapes, a subtle audience to the reckoning of things.

It was important to me that the idea of two drastically different perspectives, two completely different experiences, could exist in a similar space, and still have kindness in their eyes. Maybe Ganesha doesn't so much remove the obstacles between two people, instead perhaps he just aids in the acceptance of them.

after the dust settles, then the fire burns

2012-01-03T13:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I think I am the orange horse. Sometimes, I think I am the grey.

A dynamic relationship, that's for sure.

Anthropomorphism is a tricky thing. Animals make great stand-ins when you want to talk about tricky, sticky, messy, heart-wrenching, but ultimately beautiful things (relationships, for example). The tricky part comes in, however, when you realize that sometimes the grey horse and the orange horse are really stand-ins for the same person, or they switched colors and stories without asking anyone's permission (especially not the person creating the story). Tricky, but also entertaining because the story you thought you were telling starts to tell you.

An aside- I like to hide secret messages in collages, cause I find it entertaining. This one has a nod to my dad's family brand- which is an A enclosed in a heart. Given, they used the brand on cows and not horses, but still. Also, I guess it's not a secret message if I tell you it is there... but then- Where's Waldo wouldn't be fun if you didn't know who you were looking for...

also there is this.

2011-12-07T23:02:00.001-08:00

I like to sing a bit, and I'm lucky these fellas let me.

early december at the Horned Hand

2011-12-07T08:26:00.001-08:00

I'm starting to enjoy this very much, and so inspired! Usually after a show, it takes some time to re-fuel. Not this time.
Pinterest is helping me keep track of all the things I run across that I find intriguing, and can brainstorm visually...
Though I am quickly realizing with all this technology I kinda need an Unplugged Day of the Week.

fables of what happened next.

2011-12-05T15:59:00.001-08:00

So many hours went into this show at Lone Pine, and I want to write more about it and the process that went into it... however, there is no rest for the wicked. Maybe tomorrow after an important (cross your fingers)...

Organized.

2011-11-21T17:55:00.001-08:00

If you walked into my studio right now (otherwise known as living room/dining room) it would look like a tornado had been over to play a game of cards with me, and then gotten mad when I called it out on Uno. I promise there is a method here. Work coming soon, I promise.

Peaks

2011-10-26T08:08:00.000-07:00

I am busily preparing for a showing at Lone Pine Coffee Roasters in December. This is the most completed of the four collages I am juggling at the moment, with about three more to begin. Hopefully I will keep you posted.

Little Shop of Horrors.

2011-10-20T18:11:00.000-07:00

Just kidding- I promise my artwork isn't at all bloodthirsty. Though it has given me a paper cut or two.

Etsy is a great forum for handmade... Check it.

Foxes

2011-10-16T14:17:00.000-07:00

In the rearrangement of the studio, I perched this in-progress piece under one of my favorites by Miss Sarah Mikolowsky (who I miss very much) Just a little sneak peak for ya.

Sometimes, Rearranging is the same thing as Cleaning.

2011-10-15T12:28:00.000-07:00

The Home Studio is an entirely different Beast.

All the Wild Horses

2011-10-04T12:13:00.000-07:00

Back in my undergraduate days, I tried to be a bit of a sculptor. I wasn't very good. I had decent ideas, but inadequate amounts of patience when it came to the actual execution. The project I most regret- for one of my Sculpture classes I wanted to compose a figure out of tree roots. They were building a new mall or something on the outskirts of Murfreesboro, and had knocked down a huge tree, I think it had to be a rather old oak. The root system was exposed and vast, and I went and gathered what I could and dumped them in the garage/studio of the house I was renting at the time. I had plenty of time to work on this piece, but unsure how to proceed, I spent the greater part of two weeks just staring at the pile of tangled wood.

I was reminded of this epic fail when I walked into a Deborah Butterfield exhibition in Chelsea while on vacation. Her horses are made of branches and limbs cast in bronze, ranging in size from a table top pygmy to a draft size that would measure more than eighteen hands, surely. The branches she chose suggest perfectly solid withers, strong necks, and expressive heads. Each had a presence, beyond just the physical, the largest one harking back to the Trojan Horse in it's stature. Having just visited Innisfree Farm the previous week, the forms automatically made me miss the smell and the warmth of hugging those strong necks and burying my face in a tangly mane. I enjoy it when art imitates life so poetically.

Here and there and Back Again

2011-09-25T09:34:00.000-07:00

How in the world do I distill a two week escapade that included spending time in my favorite place in the world (Innisfree Farm), seeing my favorite people in the world (everyone in TN, Brooklyn and Beyond), and exploring new frontiers (Vermont, Maine)? Not to mention the lovely food eaten, the parks explored, and art (ART!) taken in by these two eyes (and sometimes ears).

A hugely encouraging thing: at the numerous galleries that I went to in NYC, the quality of some of my artist and photographer friends here in Bend, in Brooklyn, and in Middle Tennessee could fit in on the walls of those snooty stone and glass bastions of good taste; and whatever they say about the economy- I saw an awful lot of red dots in those places.

My goal for this week is to talk a little bit about the art that I saw and liked, and to get my nose to the grindstone preparing for an upcoming show. In the meantime, photos.

Paintings and Piggy Back Rides.

2011-09-04T09:05:00.000-07:00

Central Oregon's Got Talent.

When Art has a Life of it's Own.

2011-08-25T14:36:00.000-07:00

Back in February, I made a sculpture for a show at the PoetHouse. I wrapped myself, and stand-in Tia, with saran wrap, covered that in packing tape, cut it off me, put it back together, then made scales out of dress patterns. I was creating a cicada shell for myself. It looked like this:

Considering it wasn't very structurally sound, and that I didn't really have anyplace to permanently install it, it got moved around the poetHouse. I had plans to take it out to the desert and light it on fire and take photos of it, but that didn't end up happening. So, when I moved out of the poetHouse, I said goodbye to it and placed it on top of the Dumpster in Tin Pan Alley.

And then, it showed up at the new music venue/art and cowboy shirt retail space the Horned Hand. The Double H has coyote pelts and antlers adorning its walls, so I suppose the piece kinda makes sense there. Discarded skins and faux discarded skin. But now, the sculpture has become a dance partner for waltzing across the peanut covered floor, and is also on flyers for upcoming shows. It's perched on the couches, and on the owners vintage bike. I find this very amusing. It's kind of like an art zombie.

Watch out.

Gold in the Air of Summer.

2011-08-18T12:25:00.000-07:00

There is a kind of hypnosis that happens when you live in central Oregon in the month of August. You forget the long, long winter. You forget about living in Long Johns from November until May. You are lulled by the sunshine and blue sky, and by the perfectly nurturing veggies coming out of the farmers market, and friends gardens. You ride your bike to the river, to the market, and to see live music. Well, you actually ride your bike everywhere.
This hypnosis, however, has taken it's toll on the art making. So, I have nothing to show, nothing to report, really: at least till I get a camera.

Just thought I'd tell ya.

Don't Let the Fading Summer Pass you By.

2011-08-01T16:39:00.000-07:00

It's August First, and maybe it's cause I know my nephew has his first day of school this week, but suddenly there is a sense of urgency to my summer. Perhaps this is leftover from days of gathering nuts and filling the root cellar? Before I know it, the snow will be flyin' again here in lovely Central Oregon, therefore I have to fill this need to accomplish things while balancing some lackadaisical summer enjoyment.

Since I don't have a camera available to show the progress on the two new collages I've been working on, I will share a photo of other extracurricular activities.

Rural Demons

We have a show at the Horned Hand this Friday (which is also first friday, again).

The New Studio

2011-07-26T15:49:00.000-07:00

After a good long month of consideration, I decided to move my studio into my house. As much as I adored my tenure at the PoetHouse, have spent the last month slowly shifting, bringing all my art supplies into my dining room area.

The end of June, beginning of July, continued the trend started by that stinkin' mugwort, with the following events/non-events/situations/blessings/curses (to be categorized when I'm done processing them):

Major physical drama, sorta, concerning my wrists and hands; which made yoga, art, and guitarplaying quite difficult. Not to mention barista-ing and typing on this blog.
The beginning of my thirty-second year, complete with a jaw-dropping visit from a wondering soldier.
The Freedom Ride on the fourth of July, always a swell time.
A solo adventure to Portland to see one of my heroines, Miss Neko Case, perform. (Thank you Denny for the wrist braces that enabled me to drive there and back).
My joining of the girl choir in local band The Rural Demons, a band that represents through it's members three, no four, coffee shops in town (as well as a gluten-free bakery in Portland). This fact is not coincidence.
Four very thought provoking, interesting, and supportive critiques at the PoHo, as well as several conversations with Cara and Louie.
Random acts of local and global violence that have both shaken and reaffirmed my belief that human beings are not that bad.
Four really good books given to me to read, and a awesome new Gillian Welch album to listen too.
The actual, physical copy of House of Snow being given to me at the first Rural Demons performance. Two bucket Lists marked off in one night.

Back to the new studio, however. I realize that it is going to take a little more resolve to not become a complete art hermit while creating at home. I also realize that woah, time's a wastin'. Let's stop thinkin' and start cuttin' and pastin'. Tingly fingers or not.

The Water Cycle

2011-06-20T20:21:00.000-07:00

Water has an endless relationship with it’s own form: rarely staying in one shape let alone one place. Steam, vapor, cloud, drop, flake, crystal, icicle, snowman, avalanche, puddle, pond, lake, stream, river, ocean: all of the above, none of the above. Again and Again and Again.

Oops Paint, Pastel, Oil Pastel, Ink. Not too serious.

the backdoor studio

2011-06-16T15:12:00.000-07:00

I sit on the steps of my backdoor. It is the patio, the courtyard, the secret garden, the secret studio. I don't have a monkey on my shoulder like Frida, but I do have a Kelty dog sitting at my back. We lean against each other as I pause from the work, taking a moment to stare at the chiggers crawling around the stone steps, hoping they don't crawl in my jeans. The painting I am working on (well, mixed media now; I am covered in pastel dust) is one that I originally did for the bike show at the wine shop back in December, but the bikes are gone now, the painting is flipped upside down. Now just a sea and sky swirling together, melting into each other, bubbling foam becoming clouds. This piece is completely Un-Serious. The forms are foggy, the colors thin and slightly muddy in spots. I don't intend on showing it. I intend on hanging it in my bedroom, where only I and my furry assistant can see it. It's more for the movement, the act of drawing tiny accent lines with pastel, the process of trying to get creative energy moving around. Sketchbook process on a bigger level, perhaps. And it gives me something to do besides dig in the dirt. The courtyard is lovely. Stones and leaves and light- blues sky and random artifacts of former tenants. It's just kinda peaceful, and that is all it needs to be. I see it becoming a habit.

More Details on this Mugwort Business.

2011-06-10T21:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes people give you really odd looks when you start spouting off about herbs above your bed making you reassess your life. I know it sounds all New-Agey, hoo-hawey, but it makes a ton of sense to me. Kinda like the Head and the Heart album being the soundtrack to my springtime, that with all the songs about friends moving away and such. My life has a providence to it, and I used to get into arguments back in college with my art buddies about it. They thought I took it a little too seriously. I ended up in Bend because Bela Fleck and the Flecktones were playing here the night we pulled into town, for example. How's that for tea leaves?

So this mugwort thing: I hung it above my bed in order to be able to "remember my dreams." I thought it would be literal, like I would remember what I did to piss off my friend and co-worker Bernie so much when he showed up at Diabetic Camp that was also an early 90's Real World Episode. Maybe I made him a cappuccino with sour milk. I have no clue; it would break my heart if Bernie was really mad at me, he's such a kind fellow, and that dream started mid-scene.

The mugwort didn't work that way, anyway.

First off, some real characters walked into my life. When I was awake. A Ghost-of-Christmas-Future, gangly-toothed, tweaked out woman gave me a long lecture about Kelty as we walked downtown (well, I walked with Kelt, and she followed me). She was obviously high as a kite, but she was dead on about my relationship with my dog. She was also kind of prophetic, which makes me more than a little protective of my beastie bestie. Then there was the guy who started talking to me about the sadness of the world while I was making his mocha. He was perfectly normal, talking in a calm, clear voice, but was obviously relaying some kind of cosmic message. And I listened to him, despite my skepticism, the memory of my art buddies as they took me by the elbow and steered me away from a wide-eyed conversation with a street performer back in New York City.

"So if you don't know what to make of this, than we will not relate..." (Head and the Heart)

Surreal happenstances continued, short statements from my sister who was visiting, weird coincidences with random accidents in the studio, finding a porcupine quill on my patio (see the piece Cant Give Up Acting Tough) until Tuesday night. It was then, when listening to Laurie Gerber, that I realized- oh this Mugwort isn't calling out my dreams, it's calling out my DREAMS. Oh, Okay.

Again, cynical friends, you may scoff.

When I talked to my friend Casey today, the provider of the mugwort, it took him a minute to get what I was talking about, but when he realized what I meant it made total sense to him. He's on his own rant about permaculture and doin' what your 'sposed too, which for him involves Speaking Engagements. Being passionate about things is scary. But what is more nightmarish than not being on the path you are supposed to be on? And in all honesty, the last two months, I've been questioning what my path was/is. Granted, I said goodbye to some very aesthetically inspirational friends this spring; and they helped fuel my process. Without them, did I still have a process? Did I still have fuel?

There is a mourning when people part ways. But for me to question the fact, and I mean FACT, that my dream (capital D) is to create beautiful pictures and stories that inspire thought, wonder, and feeling- to create things- with my hands, with my mind, with my voice, with my example- and in turn strive to inspire Life (in it's messy, weird, serendipitous, lovely gloriousness-)? For me to question that- I needed something to inspire a nightmare. I needed some toothless lady to tell me to watch out. I needed Crazy Mocha Guy to give me permission. I needed my studio table toppling over. I needed the Head and the Heart, and the Fleet Foxes, and Kat Seltzer asking "What are you feeling right now?" And if a small bundle of a really lovely smelling plant can help me figure this out again- then so. be. it.

Legitimately, What are You gonna Do?

2011-06-09T10:24:00.000-07:00

Recently, I have been faced with a few pointed questions: What have you been working on? Why haven't you been creating artwork? Why do you sound so serious when you answer the phone?

And most importantly: What is your Dream? I don't think it is a coincidence that a lot of these questions began the night I hung some fresh Mugwort above my bed. Mugwort traditionally helps clarify your dreams while asleep (brings nightmares if you aren't ready for it) and also helps protect travelers when placed in their shoes (also- please note its proper name, and giggle with me). The thing is, I thought it only affected you while you were sleeping. I suppose I have been sleepwalking, then.

In order to answer these important questions, I am committing to the following:

Taking a break from teaching yoga in order to concentrate on my own practice. I can't teach with kindness and integrity if I don't hold that space for my own self, on and off the mat.
Taking a pretty intense inventory of this so-called life, in order to distill and identify said Dream.
Having conversations with some fellow artists about, well, art.
Sitting on my newly lovely-fied back patio (thanks, Moss!) as much as possible, with guitar and songs. Feel free to come join me most evenings.
Bicycle, Bicycle, Bicycle.
Updating this blog in order to hold myself accountable.
Not apologizing in the least for undertaking some Soul Searching. It's who I am, pretty much. Take it or leave it, Suckers.

I believe this is an important process. Cause, What am I gonna Do, otherwise?

Special thanks to the music of the Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, and Neko Case for adding a lovely soundtrack to this morning's blog.

build us a house of snow and promise not to go

2011-05-18T21:02:00.000-07:00

I finished the two pieces for Miss Laurel Brauns' new album, House of Snow, this week. On Tuesday, an hour before I was Laurel was coming to pick them up, I was being persnickety with the title piece. All of a sudden, my work table, which Was propped up to lower rib height by milk crates, flipped over, tumbling my computer, my iron (did you know I use an iron?), and many tiny scraps of paper over and into the studio space next to mine (sorry, Mr. Monson). I suppose this was my clue to stop working.

Again, I am honored to have been creative for Laurel. Please check out her music if you get a chance.

In other news, the following:

This is the longest winter I have lived in Central Oregon, good grief.
I may be adding yoga-ness to this blog. Namaste.
Tomorrow is an important date, just wanted to acknowledge that.
If the world starts to end on Saturday, I will be taking Kelt, my bike, my guitar, and some friends to the Oregon coast. You will find us singing songs there.

Blue Canvas with Cara and Louie

2011-05-11T12:14:00.000-07:00

I know some very talented people- I could make a long list.

If you are near Barnes and Noble any time soon- please pick up the latest copy of Blue Canvas. It's an art magazine that comes out four times a year and is extremely well done. Cara and Louie are on the cover. They are hanging out at Lone Pine at the moment, as I type this, some fine ink paintings that they did for my favorite cafe and work situation hanging on the wall behind them. (They Paint Together, by the way).

First Friday May Come and Go.

2011-05-06T18:01:00.000-07:00

I'm not showing anywhere this first Friday. Woah. It's a relief, sorta. I burnt so much creative energy for Feathers, Scales, Shells, that I don't mind taking a little time to refuel. Plus, it allows me to be untethered for the festivities of the evening.

The PoetHouse is showcasing some of our newest resident artists contemplating the theme of Security along with the community gallery of the TBD Loft. The second tier, so to speak, of the Maslow's Hierarchy, Megan McGuinness has created a fort out of security blankets, Eli Goodall has written a poem to go along with his typewriter (inviting you to anonymously present your flaws), Graham Goodwin has used his macro lens to examine vices that often become security blankets, and Jo Lundberg has a medicine cabinet full of candy perscriptions for anyone who wants to self medicate. Not to mention new work by Tom Monson, Sarah McMurray, Sean Anderson and the like.

I also plan on heading over to Common Table at around seven to hear my friends and co-workers the Rural Demons play their dark alt-country. They don't know it yet, but I plan on joining their band next week.

Then there is all the other art around town, and the music, and me playing matchmaker. Shhhh. Don't tell.

House of Snow.

2011-05-05T13:27:00.000-07:00

Back what seems like ages ago, I was approached by Miss Laurel Brauns to create an image for her upcoming album. She gave me the demo disc of the songs, and free rein in creating a collage for her. I'm almost (Almost) finished with two pieces (maybe one for the front, maybe one for the back). I met with her on Tuesday, and she shared the finished album with me, which I think is Lovely. If you have a chance, take a listen.

deep in the desert

2011-04-29T19:52:00.000-07:00

April was an interesting month. March was non-stop studio preparing for Feathers, Scales, Shells at the teahouse, so when the show was hung and I finally stopped to breathe, I realized what was ahead of me. My dear friends, Sarah, Christian, and Cyr began brand new beautiful adventures in the month of April, and so much of the first couple weeks were spent bidding bon voyage.

It's not my favorite, saying bye to people.

The Tallest Man on Earth says "there are no real good-byes if you mean it." and I would say he is correct.

In order to re-center, re-invigorate, and remember what's clear- I headed east last weekend with my boy besties (I think they hate it when I call them that) to the Alvord Desert, which is snug in between the Steens Mountains and the Pueblo Range in one of the most remote places in the lower forty-eight. It was divine, and exactly what I needed. The first night in, we camped in tents without rain flys. and I grinned myself to sleep while watching the stars and listening to the Fleet Foxes new album (which, I might add, mentions Innisfree several times: a lake isle beloved by WB Yeats and also the Mullen Family of Maury County, TN). I woke with the dawn over the desert, spent the morning soaking in the Alvord Hot Springs, then hiked all afternoon on the Pike Creek Trail. The weekend continued with campfire food, frisbee throwing, guitar playing, walking out into the half inch lake that covered the Alvord with a soft milky mud, and spending a lot of quiet time with the boys and Kelt, letting the desert wind refuel me.

Now, back in Bend, with the PoetHouse in transition and spring STILL not here, I am hanging on to the clarity of being in the outside lands, and looking forward to pouring some of that clarity into my artwork.

other things from the mad month of march

2011-04-10T18:31:00.000-07:00

Intelligent Design

It matters to This starfish

2011-04-06T13:21:00.000-07:00

There is a story, if you haven't heard, about a man walking on a beach. The shoreline is full of beached starfish, as far as the eye can see. He keeps walking along, and comes upon a little boy who is patiently grabbing one starfish at a time and throwing them back into the water. The man stops the little boy and says something very adult- like. "How futile! You will never be able to save all these starfish, little boy! It doesn't matter!" The little boy grins at him, picks up another starfish, and says "It matters to this one!" and tosses it back to its home.

I didn't start out this piece with starfish on the shore. It started with the figure in a shell dress, with the readings I've been doing lately for my yoga practice about the body as a home for your spirit, not something your spirit just wears and discards, so to speak. Through my yoga teacher training in October, and through my yoga practice in general, I've been attempting to see every action as a little prayer, every mundane task such as doing dishes or tidying my space as a way to create a more sacred space. Coming to the world with this attitude is a hopeful one. This way, no act ever seems futile (especially facing the enormity of all the disaster in the world). And not to be preachy, but it seems much more joyful to align myself with the little boy throwing starfish into the sea.

Feathers, Scales, Shells

2011-04-01T16:31:00.000-07:00

There is something lucky about stumbling upon an old skin that was shed, finding forgotten feathers, putting your ear up to what used to be an underwater home and hearing the landscape it lived in. They are beautiful, but have outlasted their usefulness to their owner, perhaps. They are the residues of time passing and of changes happening. There is a magic in adorning ourselves with the quality of these animals which is employed by the mythmakers and the storytellers and the artists. I am employing this magic now, echoing shapes in the paper cuts that form the images, repurposing talismans, asking fairytale characters to tell a slightly different story this time, and hopefully creating a body of work that will intrigue the viewer to tell a few tales themselves.

~kaycee anseth

sneak peak

2011-03-30T01:38:00.000-07:00

furiously working...errr procrastinating

2011-03-22T16:47:00.000-07:00

I am cutting and pasting, and the pieces keep getting tinier and tinier as the time goes more and more quickly. I am showing at the Teahouse for April First Friday (also April Fools, by the way) and have been working on new collages, but it is slow going. The title of the show is Feathers, Scales, and Shells.

Dang you, Ursala

2011-02-19T09:49:00.000-08:00

I am by no means an Ariel, though I have plenty of who-sits and what-sits surrounding me in my studio. I do feel slightly akin to the little mermaid this week, however, in that my voice is completely MIA. I taught my nine-thirty Yoga class Wednesday morning and it got progressively froggier and froggier until Thursday when it gave up the ghost completely. After being holed up in my cozy house for two days, trying to not even whisper, I realize two things: I talk to myself and Kelty quite a bit, and to not even be able to do that is quite lonely. I also am terrible at charades.

The biggest bummer of this illness is I was supposed to be helping with snow sculptures for Bend's WinterFest Celebration (and winter is indeed back with enthusiasm). Hopefully, I will have some photos of the finished pieces (I helped rough out three, at least, on thursday) sometime. Snow is a fun and challenging medium.

I will take this time to show photos from December's First Friday. Bike+Art=Love from the cyclocross competition- I made several bikes from feathers and hung them in the studio...

give me your hand -me -downs (i'll make my own)

2011-02-15T09:45:00.000-08:00

Way back in November, seems like ages ago now, the resident artists at the PoetHouse did a twenty-four hour lock down before First Friday. I had been listening to Andrew Bird quite a bit, and his lyrics about a "life sized paper doll" kept rolling through my head. I didn't have the materials to make it life sized, but I did have an idea of the costumes I wanted her to wear, and a box of old wrapping paper that my mom had been saving for years and years.

New Digs, I dig.

2011-01-21T17:46:00.000-08:00

This last week found me moving again, from the house near Newport Market I shared with the lovely Jo, Adina, and Shahar, into a sweet little one bedroom that is a three minute walk from the studio. Three minute walk to teach my Wednesday morning yoga class. Three minute walk to Lone Pine for work. This means I don't have to drive my car. This means I am walking my talk.

The thing about moving, is that I get to look at the past for a moment. Old paintings, old sketchbooks, bowls I threw in college get moved with me. Sometimes I find them odd. These same hands made THAT? Ewww. But it's also a reminder that I've been creating for quite a while now, and will continue to create... I find that satisfying. Just a little aside. Now, back to work for on the tape sculpture. (I really must put photos up soon...)

Shopping Trip For Art Supplies.

2011-01-13T12:36:00.001-08:00

Shopping List-

Clear Packing Tape.
Saran Wrap.
Dirt, Twigs, Dead Leaves, Etc.
Feathers.

This is the shopping list for my first friday february piece. It's gonna be three-dimensional. I'm stoked.

Sarah Mik sent all of us artists a link for inspiration this morning. It worked.

I also Love this.

The Folksinger

2011-01-09T13:54:00.000-08:00

I met last week with a folksinger friend of mine, and she gave me a present. The present was her latest album in rough demo form, and she is letting me filter it through my brain and hands into collage form. She wants my artwork to grace the cover, and I am honored by the chance. I am extra, extra excited about this project for several reasons. Firstly, because it's almost like a collaboration. Secondly, because I find music so inspiring to my work, and it is good to have fuel. Finally, because it's like studying tea leaves. I am excited and curious to see what my ear picks up on, because that is usually exactly what I need to hear.

I saved listening to the opening track, what may be the title track, until this morning. I put it into my car cd player as I drove home after having brunch at Sarah and Christian's flat. I automatically had goose bumps. Ideas swarmed my brain and I wanted to pull the car over and write them down before they floated away, like Charlotte's Children on tiny threads of spider silk.

Yes, and Yes.

Don't it Always seem To Go.

2011-01-06T10:59:00.000-08:00

The PoetHouse still is without heat. It is officially colder in there than it is outside, especially today, which is bright and beautiful and almost balmy (let's say pushing forty! wooHOO). This week and a half of not being able to be in my studio space is reminding and redefining my relationship to PoetHouse. How wonderful it is to have a space like that to flock too! How wonderful are the artists, musicians, creatives, and our muses that flock there! My days are much less filled to the brim this last week and a half, and I miss my little community. The heat gets fixed tomorrow, and you can bet your life that that's where I will be most of this weekend. Until then. Here are things I am excited about (most involve music).

New Iron and Wine.
New Decemberists.
The new Solar Room @ Mandala Yoga Community.
Cyr's Photoblog that she is shyly presenting to the world.

it's getting cold in here.

2011-01-02T13:17:00.001-08:00

The heating in the PoetHouse went out sometime last week, and the sub zero temps in there made all the artists stay away. Today, however, Sarah Mik and I decided that we couldn't stay away any longer. Therefore- we have made a heat art fort.

It's still chilly.

There is a lot of artmaking that is about to happen up in here.

On New Year's Eve, I went over to Sarah and Christian's house to have soup and beverages. The small group of artists and artisan bakers chose cards for the year from Sarah's animal totem deck. I tried to pull one, and three jumped out at me. The Otter, which makes sense cause it is always around, reminding me of nurturing playfulness for the New Year. And then, the Owl and the Bat. The Owl is a hard one for me to accept, just because it has prior significance. But it and the Bat have important insights into transitions.

The TBD Loft is using it's gallery to discuss the theme of Maslov's Hierarchy of Needs through this year. The first part of the theme is therefore Primal. In partnership with that, the month of February (we are taking January off) will find the PoetHouse meditating on the idea that we are, in fact, still animals. I have been incubating a couple of ideas lately, and I think I may hang out with these Animal Totems for a bit, and see what happens.

Until then- Here is the song that inspired it all.

portraits of bicycles

2010-12-06T23:10:00.000-08:00

My wonderful fellow artist Sarah Mik and I were having a conversation about the body of work I am painting for the Art+Bike=Love Crossculture Event for this weekends Cyclocross Nationals that are being held in Bend, and I realized that I am not painting bikes, I am painting relationships, I am painting people.

I am painting an empty tandem bicycle in mourning.
I am painting a tandem bicycle in the hope of future partnerships.
I am painting bikes circling in a beautiful desert landscape as representative of the community that I have so grown to love.
I am painting bikes in an ambiguous landscape (next to a river? next to a seaside? in the clouds, flying?) as a transition into my installation work for the show- bicycles made of feathers... (see last years bike made from tree branches) as a way to fly.
I am painting a bike bright red with a basket full of feathers on the front.
I am painting a portrait of a bike whose body language is eerily like kelty's.
I am painting a map for the bicycles to move forward, to find new terrain.

the weather outside is frightful (or when art attacks)

2010-11-22T23:31:00.000-08:00

This evening in the studio was cozy and pleasant. Bend's first real snowstorm of the season rolled in this afternoon, and after a ninety-minute session in the hot and humid room at the Bikram Yoga Studio, there was quite the accumulation when I trecked back downtown. These last moments before the holidays arrive is the blessed calm before the storm. All the artists are silly and kind of nostalgic, not quite rabid elves yet in a flurry to finish the numerous art projects, commissions, gifts, etc. In fact, Cyr and I spent a good forty minutes looking through the hundreds of photos on her hard drive from the last two years of PoetHouse Goodness.
Now, back at home, the wind has picked up and the chill is still present in my room. My roommate and fellow creative, Adina, made an installation piece for a show last spring that consisted of an old door, some photos, and found keys. This summer, she installed it on the wall outside my room, and by outside my room, I mean out of doors. I forget it is there until nights like these, when the wind picks up. It's like Jack Frost has a battering ram.
Kelty jumps every time the wind blows.

Again, Reasons for not blogging.

2010-11-20T13:11:00.000-08:00

So, I haven't blogged in quite some time, due to the insane month of October that was Living Yoga Teacher Training at the Mandala Yoga Community( I teach my first class this Wednesday). Then there was the Lock Down at the PoetHouse: 24 hours of art making with my fellow residents (I created a paper doll, photos hopefully soon) before November's First Friday. And then there were all the many times that Kelty decided to up and wander around town after digging holes under the fence and getting herself arrested. And then there was the free Laura Veirs show I attended with the Lone Pine crew(how many yummy cups of coffee have I had in the last two months? How many did I have during the Lock Down at the PoHo? How many did I serve to Lost and Party of Five Star, Matthew Fox? At least I know the answer to that one).

And now, it's a snowy morning and I'm procrastinating from working on bike art for art+bike Love by picking up a collage that I started last October and put down a month later.

Time to put down distractions and get back to work.

Nine by twenty-four.

2010-09-22T14:28:00.000-07:00

The gigantic painting for the backdrop of the Bend Roots Revival stage is almost finished. It's large. Very Large.

Luckily, my friend Ron brought his youth group, and PoHo artists Mario, Jo, and Whitney helped contribute brushstrokes.

Top Reasons why I have been absent from blogging lately

2010-09-09T09:27:00.000-07:00

The following (art related) events transpired since August 8th:

Cause and Effect: a show by Lori LaBissonaire.
The Alley Jam: a benefit for the Cancer Society and Division Street Skate Park
Co-creating two more large canvas's for Humpday Hash at the new Century Center
First Annual Artists on A Boat wonder cruise (aka the only time I got up to one of the lakes this summer)
Rise Up's Art for India painting Party
Showing my work at Tart for the Under the Cover's Tom Petty Project
PoetHouse Patron Dinner
Planning a large mural for the stage at the Bend Roots Festival

AND coming up:

Saturday: Jo Lundberg's show titled Four Letter Words (which is gonna be fabulous)
Friday and Sunday- two important yoga events- Bikram Yoga Bend's Summers End Party and Yogis Unite- the biggest outdoor yoga event in Bend History

AND
Tonight I will be prowling, or more like scampering the catwalk at Rise Up's Annual Fashion Show sporting this wonderful creation by the wonderful Miss Sarah Mikolowsky. Let's just cross our fingers that my walking skills are right on.

making a cappuccino at Lone Pine

enough.

2010-09-07T17:23:00.000-07:00

when ~~you’ve~~ ~~we’ve~~ i’ve gone far enough

This is a travelogue of sorts. It is a postcard love letter of the last six months in which two artists walked on parallel paths towards figuring things out, or maybe just remembering. The collection of photographs taken and scraps of paper repurposed, outdated road maps and meaningful trifles becomes tactile meditations on the fact that: Yes, everything is connected. Yes, these humble moments matter. Yes, this story could be you, and we, and i.

thanks,

cyr and kaycee

Begin, now.

2010-08-10T20:35:00.000-07:00

Back for first friday in June, I painted a map on the studio floor as my contribution to the PoetHouse and TBD's themed, loft-wide show entitled "where do we come from." It was funny watching patrons follow the arrows (some even did loop-de-loos) and laugh at some of the miss- spellings I applied to the different stops along the way. Cyr took some beautiful photos of it, which I just now procured. I will try to put it in order of the path as you follow it, but we shall see...

it is an art walk, by the way...

When you've we've i've gone far enough

2010-08-08T22:35:00.000-07:00

part one. part two to come

Well, the show came. Here is my silly little walkthrough of it to initially show you what it was like. Cyr will have better photos to come, and I will make a more formal description.

Forty Four and there's so much more (to do)

2010-06-20T21:04:00.000-07:00

Wise words from Pixar

2010-06-17T13:05:00.000-07:00

I was housesitting last night, and working on Globes while watching Ratatouille, which I had never seen. I enjoyed it very much, especially because I had just talked to my friend Tara about Paris, and I am surrounded by foodies lately and being exposed to lovely things. And then there is this scene- which made me feel better about any existential art crisis I may be having...

Forty Nine is Just Fine.

2010-06-16T18:24:00.000-07:00

Days.

Lists of Art Worked on Today:
Globe Number Two.
Globe Number One.
Message Bottles.

I am quite lucky in that when I am not in the studio, I am close to the studio. I am also lucky in that I get to see one or more of my cohorts every day. I am also very lucky because I have artists around to kick me into gear, or to inspire me into working. This morning, I found myself having a conversation with an artist duo that frequent Lone Pine about the idea of diligence as an artist, and being distracted, and the like.

"I quit treating art like my job. I need to get back to treating it that way," I told the Duo as I pulled a shot of espresso. I could make a long list of excuses as to why I essentially fired myself as artist-in-residence of my life. It's time to make a counterlist, however, and to get back on track.

Fifty Days and Counting.

2010-06-15T15:23:00.000-07:00

There is a show happening first friday in August. It is the Cyr and Kaycee show.
We have a lot of work to do.

My camera is gone- so documenting will be tough- but Cyr and I have spent the afternoon mapping and brainstorming and looking at photos.

I also started the first piece. Using a Simplicity pattern for an easy dress, the bodice is cut from a map of Murfreesboro and Nashville, while the skirt is from a map of the Southeast.

More to come...

Things We Have Collected

2010-05-11T14:28:00.000-07:00

There is a Chinese myth that we are all connected by red thread tied to our ankles, at times feeling the pull of those we care about more than others. How we are all connected has fueled social media and degrees of kevin bacon. I am continually fascinated with how people saunter in and out of my life, how we overlap like venn diagrams, how some connections create rope burns with how tightly they are tied while other knots just won't hold.

This is installed at the PoetHouse. It is paint, pastel, charcoal, silver string, and red string on paper- about six feet by four feet.

The Weight of the World.

2010-04-22T17:24:00.000-07:00

The world is light and it fits on my shoulder. Well, this one does anyway. Today, the girls (Cyr and Jo) went thrifting in order to gather art supplies. We hit the jackpot. I found Four globes for the beginning of an installation(it's Earth Day, twas meant to be). I am going to be painting new maps on the globes, creating new worlds. Reworking, retelling, creating new constellations.

I also found a super cool hat, and a lovely new umbrella which will be in our bag of tricks for next week's soon-to-be-named Spring Art Adventure, a four day trek into the Steens Mountains. Similar to last summer's "Paint the Hills and Call Them Ours," which resulted in much art and merrymaking.

Not much to speak of. But some to show.

2010-04-06T15:40:00.000-07:00

"go and find the people that you know (nothing happens here that doesn't happen there)"

March got away from me. It feels like every time I went to update this little bloggity-blog something else pulled me away. Still- I have a bit to show for it (though the viewfinder in my camera is now a lovely abstract bit of cracked lcd screen).

From the top: a bit of Cara Thayer and Louie Van Patten's amazing collaborative work that hung at Lone Pine during the month of March. The progression of a collaborative painting I did with Mr. Tom Monson, which is now in the hallway of TBD Loft. Detail of one of Jo Lundberg's pieces from her solo show(Something to Sleep On). Detail of "if I'm lost it's only for a little while" by Tom Monson, from his solo show(fake it 'til ya feeeeel it) currently up at the PoetHouse.

steady as it goes part two.

2010-03-02T22:34:00.000-08:00

Still workin on this piece. . .

In other news, I have been walkin walkin walkin for the last week and a half, due to car trouble. It's made for some lovely early morning walks to work and the studio.

We live in a beautiful world.

Steady as it goes.

2010-02-27T17:25:00.000-08:00

First Friday is six days away again (gotta love how short February is sometimes)... Made great progress on this collage which will be for the subtheme ("who we are") that TBD Loft is hosting over the next few months dealing with the idea of Community. Just a peak of what I'm cooking up- this one's gonna be large...

Speaking of COOKING- there is a chili cook off tomorrow night at the PoHo, and the prize for the best chili (both hot and mild will receive awards) will be original artwork by yours truly and my precious roomie Jo Lundberg.... the slots are filled for competing but the tasting is all open!

zen and the art of bicycle maintanence

2010-02-20T23:42:00.000-08:00

spinning wheel

sk8-err-dye...

2010-02-18T13:53:00.000-08:00

Mapmaker, Mapmaker, make me a Map.

2010-02-11T15:31:00.000-08:00

Cyr helped me document my little paintings I did for the Cycle Cross show back in December. I find it comforting sometimes when life is feeling a little chaotic to draw a silly map. Partially inspired by CandyLand, and partially inspired by the journey's of Billy in Family Circus, my own versions are pen, ink and a little paint. It's all about the journey, right? At the moment, I am creating another one on a longboard skateboard deck for PUSH, the Skateboard Art Auction benefits the Division Street Skatepark Project.

details of map my ride

Diptych- journey vs destination

Windows and Doors

2010-02-09T10:39:00.000-08:00

"Next time, Don't ask Br'er Rabbit for Directions"

First Friday rolled on by again last week, with the PoetHouse presenting "windows and doors," and Lone Pine hosting new work by Cyr. Whether it was the nice weather, or the fact that Bend was restless after January's lack of an art hop, downtown was packed with all sorts of folks(who am I kidding, it's cause of the wine tasting). There were even people on stilts ducking through the door to the PoHo.

cyr and her mom, and her piece titled "they say our tree won't grow back, but someday something will." This piece is a contripbution to Haiti. She refills it with tiny photos, and people leave dollars clipped to the clothespins.

another cyr piece- taken on one of our drives. this is Jo and our star balloon.

Cyr and I being un-serious. Jo and Brittany. Tom and Shahar (my Israeli housemate).

Mike Bookey, Shahar, myself, Mary Booky, Cyr and Jo. Mario Dickson's piece - Skeletal Silhouettes

Brittany Zendajas, Window to Summer. Jason Graham, Red Dirt Door

Jefferson Johnson, assemblage. My painting of Rachel Brown re-appears.

sarah and christian

Cyr: trespassers welcome

Tom Monson

the sarahs.

Sean Anderson overly optimistic

B Positiv

2010-02-02T14:13:00.000-08:00

Jo Lundberg's original oil on canvas was the B Positv signature piece this year.

For the sixth year in a row, McMenamin's Old St. Frances School hosted the B Positiv Art Auction on Saturday night. B Positiv is a foundation that was created in support of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Foundation in honor and memory of Hannah Pite- daughter of Poet House Friend Danny Pite, whose blood type changed from A to B positive after treatment for a rare form of cancer. This year, Jo designed the poster piece for the event. I contributed a piece for the second year in a row. I'm not sure if results are in for the amount raised (upward of 8000 total I believe), but I was honored that my friend and Yoga instructor Molly bid on and won my piece.

Lori, Adina and Jo

person, tree, house- now owned by ms. molly clark.

Nostalgia: Where We Come From

2010-01-29T22:18:00.000-08:00

Hands down favorite nostalgic toy: Fashion Plates.

I was reminded of this wonderfully creative (let's not dissect all the cultural/gender connotations that could be applied) toy that I had growing up while Jo and I were watching Season Seven of Project Runway (burlap sacks, but that's another post).

Basically Fashion Plates consisted of different templates divided into torso, legs, and heads. One could mix and match each part to create an exponential varity of looks. There were tennis skirts! There were bell bottoms! There were leg warmers! There was Farrah Faucet hair! This was the early eighties, after all. The templates were then covered in paper and rubbed in charcoal (think the process you use on old gravestones), with colored pencils to finish the designs.

OH! How I wish I had the Fashion Plates now- I would incorporate them seamlessly into my collages.

After finding this picture of a set online- I am amazed at how much this toy has influenced my aesthetic. If you don't see the connection- just look at "Flocking Together Can Be Over Rated." The line quality, the pouty lips, the suggested features, the hairstyle. Wow. This is where she came from. If anyone sees a set at a yard sale- will you please pick it up for me? I will pay you back.

Eat your Heart out, Tim Gunn.

When In Doubt, Clean it out.

2010-01-28T16:15:00.000-08:00

just starting this one for next week's first friday...

view from Cyr's snowboard

I cleaned my studio on Tuesday. Recycled probably forty pounds of magazines that I had strip mined for collage material. Uncovered work I hadn't touched since October. Moved my desk from one side of my cubicle to another. Started re-cataloging scraps of paper. Then I got to spend Wednesday up at the mountain under blue-bird skies. Maybe it was the sunshine, or the spine-rattling splat I took, but my brain feels more uncluttered and ready for art. And now, back to work.

started in October, need to get back to it.

a short yogic intermission

2010-01-17T14:04:00.000-08:00

full pigeon, my absolute favorite.

Last Saturday, I competed in the Oregon Hatha Yoga Championships. Competition and Yoga? Sounds odd, I know. I trained to compete last year, but didn't end up going as I was out of town. This year, I started working on the routine of seven poses in late October. About twelve people from the Bend Bikram Yoga studio practiced intensely for the last two months, and each of us deepened our practice in incredible ways. One of our teachers, Delana Miller, came in third place at the competition. I don't know my score, or how I placed among the almost fifty other women, but the rewards of focusing so much on my practice and sharing that with some amazingly supportive and dedicated people was what made being on a cold stage for three minutes in a leotard in front of about a hundred people worth it.

standing bow and bow

upward stretching

Beautiful Losers

2010-01-15T14:30:00.000-08:00

About twenty people gathered at the PoetHouse last night for a screening of the documentary Beautiful Losers. It makes me want to go live in the studio...

we drive east to find art

2010-01-12T22:41:00.000-08:00

Jo, Cyr and I went on another art drive today, first stopping by a pedestrian tunnel near Pilot Butte, then heading east on Highway 20. Jo and Cyr had gathered a gold star-shaped mylar balloon to use as a prop, as well as an old lamp and a vintage suitcase. I captured quite a few photos that I am going to use as references for collages, the mood both whimsical and lonesome.

I don't know what it is about these drives, we find the oddest things. Driving through the badlands we came upon a huge pile of cinder that ODOT must use to salt the roads. The ruddy color against the stormy sky was beautiful, scrambling to the top of the pile was rewarding. Along the same stretch of BLM land we found an abandoned tiny play house, still filled with toys. A gift left by superstitious ranchers to some feral child who was being raised by wolves, I imagine.

A Wall.

2010-01-10T21:16:00.000-08:00

Wahhh. Wahh. Wahhhh. Wahhhh....

I don't want to create tonight. I am sitting in the studio, scissors staring at me, this piece staring at me. I started it in July. It's January.

There are ways to get around this wall. I know it. Bust through, perhaps.

There is an artist named Tom Friedman, who is very conceptual. Sometimes he is a smartypants. Or he was a few years ago, anyway. I saw a show back in 2001 at the New Museum of Contemporary Art in New York that was full of his works that were hilarious and infuriating at the same time. One was a piece of artists paper, framed and mounted to the wall. It was blank. The title and medium: 1000 Hours of Staring. Yep. I know how it feels, buddy.

See Shells

2010-01-03T17:24:00.000-08:00

Cyr has been collecting egg shells for a while, with the intent of using them in a still life. In a speedy shoot this afternoon, we drove up Skyliner to a deep patch of snow with the eggs and the following props:

gold embroidery floss
an old fashioned scale
paper cranes made by her friend Kate out of tea bags
old photos of her grandmother
tiny fake apples
a rosery
some greenery
a wishbone from a Christmas game hen

Unfortunately, Cyr had to rush to work before we could look at the outcome of this silly little shoot. I am enjoying being her assistant these days. I have been keeping a Moleskin in my pocket (thanks mom and dad) when we go "on location" in order to write down the flood of ideas that come up. Sometimes, I get a little, well, cheesy. What if we wrote fortunes for the eggs, like fortune cookies? What if we took a marker and colored the cracked edges? What about this heart-shaped confetti I brought? One idea leads to another, to another, to another, to another. Not all are successful, but that's part of it. I may not be spending much time with scissors or brush in hand lately, but ideas are fermenting.

It is interesting to view another person's creative process, observing the value systems in an artist's inner eye: Cyr composes her shots from a complex place, one that has immediacy, like juggling. She thinks in black and white, in color, and in light (as I'm sure many of my photographer friends do) all at once; sometimes I feel like I am getting a tutorial in image making by accompanying her.

Make a Little Art Every Day

2010-01-02T15:33:00.000-08:00

Cyr called me after I got out of New Year Yoga yesterday.

"I've decided today is the first day of the rest of our lives, or however Bright Eyes says it. I'm picking you up."

It had been a few weeks since we had been on an Arting Outing (I'm still looking for a proper name for what we do when we wander around and find things we think are pretty). The sky was gorgeous East of town, and we felt fine. Alfalfa lead to Powell Butte to Redmond to the Peterson Rock Garden, and back to Bend. There was an animal theme to the drive, animals with sweet eyes and curly hair we found amusing and anthropomorphic. They tolerated two silly girls and the tripod quite well.

While I gathered ideas, Cyr gathered some amazing images.

Day one of the rest of our lives. Day one of creating/gathering.

Cute and Wonderful.

2009-12-29T14:20:00.001-08:00

Sometimes, I just feel like sharing.

heavenly peace

2009-12-24T18:04:00.001-08:00

art+ bike Love

2009-12-16T11:35:00.000-08:00

The PoetHouse was happening on Friday as the CycloCross Championships rode into town. I spent Thursday night with my arms elbow deep in christmas tree branches, constructing an old fashioned bike...
I tried to channel Andy Goldsworthy, but I'm pretty certain he would have disapproved of my methods (while I used floral wire, Mr. Goldsworthy uses, well nothing but spit and thorns to make his masterpieces).

from top to bottom, left to right:

Gena Goodman Campbell's installation and view of the gallery. Sean Anderson- "where we all began" (it glows in the dark). Gena's " If I just Spread my Wings." Jo Lundberg's Handlebar Series. My installation: "it's not easy being green." My painting "map my ride."

Alicia's installation called "dream cycle" (made from clear tape!) another painting of mine, Lori's installation (made from bike parts) and Tom Monson's painting.

Go! Magazine!

2009-12-11T09:41:00.000-08:00

Song of the day.

2009-12-01T22:11:00.001-08:00

Here are my friends tom and grace.

Special Music :: Tom Monson from Antioch Church on Vimeo.

art+ bike Love

2009-11-29T17:40:00.000-08:00

In a couple weeks, thousands of rowdy bicycles will ascend on our little town for a cyclo-cross championship.

The PoetHouse, along with the TBD Loft and many downtown business, is hosting a special mid-month Friday Art Hop, focusing on two-wheels for inspiration. My collages will be on display at Clutch, but I am working on something slightly different for the PoetHouse. The development of my compass obsession has moved onto maps, I have been creating whimsical little map narratives on paper and wood with pen and ink, and this week I will move into paint as well... A sneak peak:

Yes, it is backwards... Photo booth does that...

Small Packages, Little Birds

2009-11-22T14:36:00.000-08:00

yes. and yes.

what, not who. this fading summer.

from take off to landing

i can see a lot of bright in you

thunder and lightning gets you rain

my little chickadees

as the crow flies

I am participating in the third year of Bohemia Gallery's "Good Thing's Come in Small Packages" show. These little birds are all about four by four inches, diminutive for sure. I am about to frame them up and ship them out, just in the nick of time...

Fresh Prints

2009-11-12T13:05:00.000-08:00

In one of my college classes, I believe Sr. Seminar, we discussed the idea of mass production of art images, and how that effects the realm, world, value, and discipline of art and art making. Basically, we talked about how Van Gogh Sunflower umbrellas and Monet Water Lily coffee mugs have depleted the magic of the original paintings.

I want to be able to share my art, however, and because of that prints seem like a decent idea for me right now. My originals range in price from 500-700 dollars. A high-quality print on watercolor paper will cost 125.

water colors, not water color paper... but still.

Most images shown on the right are available for purchase, and will arrive to you signed and numbered. Easy as pie, and better than fruitcake, think about it for your holiday needs- Just leave me a comment on which prints you would like... oh, and I still have listings on etsy... check it.

(this post once again illustrates why I am an art maker and not an art dealer)

As far as originals- I have a few shows coming quickly down the line. More info soon!

Adam Haynes

2009-11-05T10:18:00.000-08:00

the latest interview for the source...

side-note: a review.

2009-10-13T09:50:00.000-07:00

I (and) Love (and You) the new Avett Brothers.

can't give up acting tough (it's all that I'm made of)

2009-10-12T17:27:00.000-07:00

If you are gonna be friends with the animals, you have to be friends with all of them, not just the cute, cuddly ones; nor just the bad-ass, really cool ones. That was part of what they left out of the Seven Dwarfs: Snow White singing to banana slugs.

Like choosing sides for kickball at recess, one by one the animals picked their saints out of the group of volunteers. The owl, the spider, the bear, the swan, the wolf, the rabbit. She found herself the patron saint of porcupines (one of the more cute, cuddly looking of the rodent family) and it seemed masking herself with their likeness might come in handy.

There were things to consider, however. Would those that approached her, then, need to wear armor or be resigned to the fact that holding her would amount to voluntary voodoo, a loss of blood by a million tiny pin pricks, crochet hooks in thin skin?

It's not like she needed to warn anyone, they could see it upon approach. And it's not like she could take off the dress (maybe she didn't want to).

She thought how different things would be if she had been chosen by the alpaca, or the rainbow trout. Instead of harsh quills, she would be clothed in something soft and lovable, or shimmering with mirroring light. But then, surely she would have been robbed to make sweaters, or worse.

"May as well play the hand, I suppose." she thought as she crunched into a shiny red delicious, choosing to consider her prickly friends as quite bad-ass. It was what she needed.

Quick Link.

2009-10-06T22:10:00.000-07:00

ObaMoMA. Sorta

I very much enjoy the fact that they will hang this Rothenberg entitled "Butterfly."

Art for India

2009-10-01T13:41:00.001-07:00

joe kimmel

part of my contribution

lori l.

The annual Rise Up Art for India Painting Party was the happening place to be last Sunday. Rise Up gathered local (and formally local) artists to spend the afternoon at the warehouse filling two huge canvases with designs. This is my second year of participating in this fun event, and while I didn't get to spend quite as much time as I would have liked on the canvas, it was good to catch up with Portland artist and friend Joe Kimmel, as well as Lori, Jo, and a few other art friends.

The canvases will be on display downtown for this Art Hop- and then will be auctioned at the end of the month...

Indian Summer.

2009-09-26T10:27:00.000-07:00

she is always shootin' somethin'

Cyr, Kelt and I went exploring at Shevlin Park to enjoy the day.

September is my absolute favorite time of year in Central Oregon. I absolutely adore the way that the air smells on crisp mornings. It is perfect weather for windows down singing, exploring creek side, packing in the last bits of bliss before hibernation time.

One Size Too Small.

2009-09-22T15:36:00.000-07:00

The trusty black placard, triptych on the right is called "you had to be there."

"the giving tree"

"I am out of your hands, I have flown"

"bring me to the water Lord, I sure am thirsty"

(wearing this flowy skirt in the water, I had never felt lovely)

the sign for the street, and the signing book.

"we are nowhere, and it is now"

"all your memories"

film on Cyr's lamp

"what comes after"

(there were animal bones under the floorboards)

"I have not outgrown it. . ."

details of this piece, me in the river on one side, Jo at sheep rock on the other

"sometimes you walk, sometimes you fly, sometimes you die"

the artist and her mother

"because I love you - that's all"

(a carcass of a crawdad, an inscription found in an important book at Powell's in Pdx, my back)

"get up when you are ready, walk away when it is time to go"

(these are my hands, by the way, and a baby bird we found in a cemetery)

I mentioned in July that I went on an art adventure with my girls, Cyr and Jo. The intention that was set for the trip was that eventually, Cyr would have a show of the work. That show happened last weekend, a culmination of the summer and of Cyr's unique photographic eye. Besides our trip to the Painted Hills in Eastern Oregon, we went on several afternoon treks- finding fields to fly kites, old homesteads to explore, decayed road kill to cry over.

Cyr took her work further in this process than I think she expected. Her background is in documentary photography, she has her degree in Community Studies from UC Santa Cruz and interned in NYC at the Indypendent where she focused on chronicling social justice, poverty, and activism. This summer, she embraced a more poetic side of her photography, something I believe is equally important. Not only did she take stunningly poignant shots, but she added a delicate aesthetic to them in presentation, by covering mats with lacy fabric by hand, by sewing polaroids to cloth with intricate stitches, by juxtaposing images of a decaying bridge with a shot of Jo and her violin walking on a rocky shore and then surrounding both by feathers and placing them in a drawer from an old sewing machine stand.

There were SO many shots from this summer that Cyr could have included in this show, but the poetHouse has only so many walls. While the pieces she chose to exhibit have a quiet melancholy about them (my favorite is a piece that combines a Polaroid of an old farm house with another Polaroid of a coyote carcass hanging on a barbed wire fence) there is also a whimsey and joy to "One size to Small." Cyr's show illustrates a smile in defiance to harsh realities, a softness in the face of steely expectations.

My photographs of the show don't do it justice at all, but the show tells the story of a beautiful summer, one filled with several transitioning lives walking on a commonly human path.

Person, Tree, House

2009-09-22T11:00:00.001-07:00

Drawing by Sarah M.

Sculpture by Sarah M.

Kera T. and Lori L.

Oil on Photograph by Jo L.

Oil on Photo by Jo L.

Staging Cyr's Person Tree House Photo

September's First Friday at the PoetHouse consisted of a themed show by the residents. Back in May, Tom Monson led us through a little exercise used by psychologists to analyze clients. They are given the task to draw three things- a person, a tree, and a house- in a short period of time with a crayon. We did this as a group, and answered questions about our drawings. Then we were given a few months to reinterpret our drawing as a piece of art work.

The results were interesting and reflected each of us. Sarah M. created a soft sculpture. Kera Tucker covered a piece of wood in paint and then etched out her images. Jo Lundberg painted on top of photographs. Cyr staged a shoot out near Tumalo State Park. I collaged of course.

and there are more...

2009-09-22T10:05:00.001-07:00

Cyr's Show. Opening flowers from Owl.

Sarah M. working hard. In progress table for Cyr's mom (I paint- She Cuts and Dyes). High Quality H2Ocolors.

Sign for Rise Up.

Sarah M.

Cyr Sewing for her show.

Kelt's new favorite chair that she gets stuck under.

Monster Update of the last Month.

2009-09-22T09:18:00.000-07:00

A portrait of me from Cyr's show (painted hills trip). Boots finished adobe wall. Lone Pine's front window. The Hospital show. Gandi.

Ron's High school Youth Group art Project.

Living Doll

2009-09-04T08:55:00.001-07:00

The work of my friend Christine, Over at Du Buh Du Designs, on the cover of The Source this week (she let me interview her...)

First Friday today! Lone Pine and the PoetHouse are ready to go... Photos to come.

And Then...

2009-08-31T08:39:00.000-07:00

The end of summer approaches rapidly, and life has been one big blur.
A good blur.

Here is a list of what's happening.

Day 22 of a bikram yoga challenge. I am planning on every day until:
Army Owl arrives in Central Oregon on the 28th of September.
Going to see Band of Horses tomorrow in Eugene with PoHo friends.
Sending my Apple to the Doctor. Obviously the axiom doesn't apply here.
Finishing art for Person, Tree, House- First Friday's theme, and then-
Moving art from the hospital on Thursday to have a solo show hosted by Lone Pine Coffee Roasters, which will be hopping as well on First Friday.
Floating Bonnie Rait and Taj Mahal this weekend.
Training beginning for the Seattle Half Marathon in November.
Photo shoots with Miss Cyr and Jo before Cyr's show September 18th (gonna be stinking amazing).
Art for India Rise Up painting party comes around again on the 26th.

madame tutli-putli

2009-08-26T12:59:00.003-07:00

My friends are Creative, in Different ways

2009-08-20T20:42:00.000-07:00

My friend James the Boot is a creative fellow, in a completely different way then me. He has studied green building practices in South America, and he is currently implementing his skills at a little stead northwest of Bend. He and his sidekick, Greg, are making adobe bricks from scratch to build an entry wall. Olivia, his lovely girlfriend, and I brought the boys lunch this afternoon and witnessed the process. It reminded me of the days at MTSU mixing clay in the art barn, only on a much larger scale. I find it fascinating, and am therefore going to share.

By the way, it's just the two of them, piles of dirt/clay/a little cement and straw, and the hot sun.

Second Best

2009-08-19T10:37:00.000-07:00

Nolan (the intern), Miss Jo Lundberg (bend's best Filipino artist, tied for best Norwegian artist), Jean Hubbard (husband of PoHo instigator Sarah Hubbard), myself (tied for best Norwegian artist), Mike Martinez (Best Street Performer- actual award), Sean "Some Pig" Anderson (PoHo instigator) and Collette Anderson (the woman behind the man)

The PoetHouse received almost top honors last week in the Source's Best of Bend popularity contest. The category- Best Art Gallery. We were the runners up, which I am incredibly pleased about, considering we are 1. Non Profit. 2. Been Around for a Little over a Year. While it was debated in our little community of artists about how prestigious being second best is, we will proudly hang our blue ribbon and certificate on the wall, and aim for first best next year.

Tools of the Trade/ smoke 'm if you got 'm

2009-08-09T15:49:00.001-07:00

Tom Monson presented a solo show at the PoHo this Friday, entitled "Smoke'm if you Got'm." Before the art hop started, Tom preformed for an intimate group of friends and peers. Not only is Tom a painter, he also sings and writes lovely songs. The seven song or so set was achingly beautiful, full of imagery that complimented his work, which balances simple line drawings that are complexly emotional and autobiographical.

These two are my favorites from the set- the upper is entitled "brutha" and the painting below is entitled "eyes should be large and contain no lies." Tom described this latest work in his artist statement as not cohesive besides that he created them, that each piece came and existed in the small moments of every day, which essentially is all we have.

My photography obviously does not do it justice. My apologies.

The other excitement of this weekend came in purchases of tools for my work. I found a tiny iron and a new pair of scissors at a fabric store, the iron (and it's blue!) will allow for deft maneuvering with less risk of second degree burns. I have several sets of scissors already, but these are gold and imprinted with a crane. They are kinda magical and amusing to me, it doesn't take much.

"if everyone ate flowers"

2009-08-06T12:10:00.000-07:00

And suddenly, there is a whole series of new collages waiting for me to build them. After spending a week lakeside in Minnesota with my family, the muse decided that I have had enough R and R. It is time to work.

I read quite a bit by the lake: the Little Prince, Ladders to Fire, and just finished Life of Pi when I got home. It was a passage in Ladders to Fire that opened the gates. One of the characters, Djuna, describes how her brother went crazy when the second world war began. He started eating flowers, believing that "if everyone ate flowers, peace would come to the world."

And then there was the Newport Folk Festival. NPR has amazing coverage, downloadable podcasts of live sets by Neko Case, Iron and Wine, Gillian Welch, The Avett Brothers. Listening to the live sets of songs that have been my background music for the last several years, with accents on different verses and nuanced choruses, brings a brand new perspective to the simplest things, it's like looking through Cyr's photos and seeing how she composes photos with a different eye.

It seems like everyone is in the studio, which is another encouraging sign. Tom Monson hangs a solo show on Friday. Jo has begun a new painting as well. The PoetHouse at its best.

More of an Art Skip

2009-07-28T09:02:00.000-07:00

Miss Cyr and I drove up to Portland yesterday through a record high heat wave. We met up with Miss Jo, who had been traveling around Oregon and at last alighted at her parents house. The afternoon was free for checking out art galleries before the girls dropped me off at the airport for my red eye to Minneapolis. (I'm still awake and at the airport, delirium has arrived.)

We unfortunately only made it to a couple galleries before they closed- Compound, the Goldsmith Blocks, and the New Space for Photography (Cyr was making connections, and scoping out the dark room). Not quite an Art Hop, but that typically happens on first Thursdays or last Fridays anyhow.

My favorite piece had to be an installation by sculptor Kevin Christman. Bone white figures floated elegantly, each one tucked with peaceful expressions into a fetal position. I don't recall how many there were, but each one was different and there was a ballet-esque quality that contrasted with the stillness of them hanging over metallic sorta pillers/stakes .

The evening continued with Old Friend Terah Beth- one half of the band Hey Lover, joining the girls and me for drinks at a hip little southeast bar called Night Light. Despite the 101 degrees (I could have done bikram yoga outside!) Portland is a very welcoming town...

EtchaSketch

2009-07-23T15:56:00.000-07:00

Retiring a sketchbook always seems to happen right before a trip, or before change of season. These sketches were mainly part of my epic spring adventure, and I will miss this little travelogue. The rhino was done at the Rhino in Missoula. The dancing monkey and paper cranes while hanging out at the University with Erin. The two horses are Lad and Sonny, done at Innisfree Farm, the windmills on the drive to Idaho with Old Man driving my car and Kelty copiloting in James' truck.

Recipe for a Summer Evening

2009-07-21T22:13:00.000-07:00

One part Bike (borrowed)

Two part Friends on Bikes

One part Kelty

One glorious River.

Followed shortly after by:

Two parts Sangria

One serving beans/rice/chorizo with fresh cilantro and avocado

One very skinny hiker freshly home from twenty-one days on the John Muir Trail

One record player with splash of Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Willy Nelson, etc...

Three chairs on a balcony.

When the stars come out, so do the stories.

Oh- And I'm kinda obsessed with this today: the Avett Bros-

Running Amuck

2009-07-15T13:58:00.000-07:00

Just a little preview taste of some of the fun from the Painted Hills Photo Adventure.

This image is attributed to k.Cyr and all rights are reserved.

art (appropriately) amiss

this.

aren't we all shapeshifters

fancypants, errr, sorta

because your story weighs so much more than my story (six of one, half dozen of the other)

after the dust settles, then the fire burns

also there is this.

pinterest

fables of what happened next.

Organized.

Peaks

Little Shop of Horrors.

Foxes

Sometimes, Rearranging is the same thing as Cleaning.

All the Wild Horses

Here and there and Back Again

Paintings and Piggy Back Rides.

When Art has a Life of it's Own.

Gold in the Air of Summer.

Don't Let the Fading Summer Pass you By.

The New Studio

The Water Cycle

the backdoor studio

More Details on this Mugwort Business.

Legitimately, What are You gonna Do?

build us a house of snow and promise not to go

Blue Canvas with Cara and Louie

First Friday May Come and Go.

House of Snow.

deep in the desert

other things from the mad month of march

It matters to This starfish

Feathers, Scales, Shells

sneak peak

furiously working...errr procrastinating

Dang you, Ursala

give me your hand -me -downs (i'll make my own)

New Digs, I dig.

Shopping Trip For Art Supplies.

The Folksinger

Don't it Always seem To Go.

it's getting cold in here.

portraits of bicycles

the weather outside is frightful (or when art attacks)

Again, Reasons for not blogging.

Nine by twenty-four.

Top Reasons why I have been absent from blogging lately

enough.

Begin, now.

When you've we've i've gone far enough

Forty Four and there's so much more (to do)

Wise words from Pixar

Forty Nine is Just Fine.

Fifty Days and Counting.

Things We Have Collected

The Weight of the World.

Not much to speak of. But some to show.

steady as it goes part two.

Steady as it goes.

zen and the art of bicycle maintanence

sk8-err-dye...

Mapmaker, Mapmaker, make me a Map.

Windows and Doors

B Positiv

Nostalgia: Where We Come From

When In Doubt, Clean it out.

a short yogic intermission

Beautiful Losers

we drive east to find art

A Wall.

See Shells

Make a Little Art Every Day

Cute and Wonderful.

heavenly peace

art+ bike Love

Go! Magazine!

Song of the day.

art+ bike Love

Small Packages, Little Birds

Fresh Prints