Sunday, March 14, 2010
Here in Michigan, I'm embracing these gray and damp days of pre-spring. They aren't conducive to being cheery when they drag on and on but...this is my last spring in the Great Lake State so I'm determined to enjoy them. Until I have time to go out and capture the murkiness in some artistic way, I'm going to refer to some oldies but goodies. It wasn't easy coming up with red-themed photographs the other day so I scrounged around for a few more.
Above is a lotus in the Portland Japanese Garden.
Graffiti in Oaxaca, Mexico:
This makes me salivate:
"You can trust your car to the man who wears the star..." Target practice on a Texaco sign:
Autumn in my neighborhood in Michigan:
Waiting for water to spout out of the mouth at Millennium Park, Chicago:
Thursday, March 11, 2010
For a couple of months now I've been going through every box, envelope, album, etc. of memorabilia and although progress has been made, there is still a mountain of work to be done. I am, after all, moving to Santa Fe in July. At some point it would be nice to have everything organized and ready to ship to New Mexico or give away. July isn't as far away as I pretend that it is.
In the meantime, I'm so grateful that my parents kept their legacy in this way.
This photograph was taken in 1925. It shows my mom's 8th grade graduation class from St. Benedict's School in Carrolltown, Pennsylvania. Mom, whose name was Grace Kelly, must have been having a bad day...she's the scowling short girl in the middle row, center. This is the only photograph I have of her - and there are hundreds - where she isn't smiling or at least has a spark in her eyes.
What I'd give to know what her state of mind was at that moment. Was she excited to have her picture taken with her classmates? (Apparently not.) Was she looking forward to high school? Did she have any thoughts about her future? Did she know she would attend nursing school and then forsake that dream to become a mother of eight? Did she ever suspect that her youngest child would stare at this photograph eighty five years later and pose so many unanswerable questions?
Of course she didn't. Maybe she was just having a bad hair day.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
This morning, I woke up thinking about the color red. Maybe I was singing "Red Red Wine" to myself. Or perhaps "Red Rubber Ball," "Lady in Red" or "Red Roses for a Blue Lady." More likely, it was "My gal is red hot, your gal ain't diddly squat..."
The color red, the longest discernible wavelength of light, is associated with anger, passion and love. Most people have definite opinions about the color red. For instance, I would never wear red nail polish, but my hair is a dozen shades of red. A friend thinks my hair is "too arty" for her but she has a room painted red.
With red in mind, I found some favorite red-themed photographs to share.
Above is "The Man with the Red Turban" taken in Rajasthan, India.
"The Red Polka-Dotted Skirt" was taken at Millennium Park, in Chicago:
This house, in Okemos, has been for sale for a very, very, very long time:
Recognize the logo on the left? This was taken outside of Acapulco, Mexico:
This little girl adores her abuela who happens to be artist Josefina Aguilar. This was taken at their home in Octolan, Mexico outside of Oaxaca:
This young monk, in Luang Prabang, Laos, was curious about my red hair:
JoJo, one of my less scary doll photos:
Stigmata, on a statue in Cortona, Italy:
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Many years ago, I spent much of my time making portraits, getting close enough to spot flaws and wrinkles and so-called "imperfections." Clearly my doll portraits are an extension of that. But the dolls, sweet as they are (yes, even the "scary" looking ones seem sweet to me) do not respond, react to a joke, blink, laugh, turn away or reflect. Are the dolls my segue to a return to portraiture?
Many of those photographs were taken with Tri-X film and have yet to be digitized. But today I dug up three that I like.
Here is my Dad. He was a kind man with integrity, dignity and a sense of humor. He was always willing to pose for me and for that I am eternally grateful.
Here is Anja, our exchange student (2000-2001) from Switzerland. She hated this photo but I love it's honesty. And honesty is the point of a photograph in the first place as far as I'm concerned.
And here is a woman I met in Santa Fe, taken with my digital camera. I love that her jewelry lines up with her eyes (which are also jewels...)
Monday, March 1, 2010
This past week I've been assembling a body of work for a gallery in Santa Fe called Artistas de Santa Fe. Beginning April 1, I'll be a partner in the business and I'm thrilled to be exhibiting there even though I won't be a full time Santa Fean until July.
As I did with images for the No Passport Required exhibit at the Michigan Women's Historical Center, I'm having a blast with square format and returning to black & white. Not every image translates as well to black and white, or to a square format for that matter, but the process of trial and error makes me giddy. Many of the fractured doll images lend themselves well to both, as well as the "grainy" effect that reminds me of the good ol' days of pushing Tri-X film. You know, sometimes I really miss the smell of those chemicals...
Pulling together the exhibit in Santa Fe, returning to my blog and updating my website brings me hope. It's been a long winter, beautiful to be sure, but not artistically productive. Although I love winter, another thing has made me giddy today. Squirrels and chipmunks have quite suddenly appeared in our yard. A tad early for the official onset of spring, but close enough.
Last summer, St. Francis lost his head. I replaced it with an oversized doll head and left it on the back deck where it tolerated the season changes. (See "Making Art from a Mishap" - Tuesday, August 18, 2009). For the past few weeks she has been encased in ice, and as it slowly thaws she reveals her features once again.
No surprise, this inspires me to think towards next winter when I could line up several dolls for an icy installation. Instead of setting up lights for a shoot, a task that takes less than an hour, I'd have to wait (weeks, maybe months!) for Mother Nature to supply the effect. Oh, I do so love to anticipate!