See A Difference?

See a difference?  I sure do.

What a difference six years makes.

Actually, the difference was quite apparent after two years.  While still working on this series, I looked up from my worktable and saw this piece hanging on the wall.  I had looked at this piece almost everyday for two years.  And it hit me.  Where the Asian girl is -- where it says 'yellow,' was actually yellow.  I gulped.  My eyes ran over and over this piece.  The vast majority of pictures had faded.  The once vibrant flowers were all pale yellow.  I felt sick as I inspected two dozen other pieces, the vast majority faded in several places.

In that moment, there was only one thing I could do.  I dropped to the ground, curled into the fetal position and cried.  And cried.  And cried.  Feeling useless and unconsolable, this is pretty much how I spent the following week.  Should I throw them away?  Should I pack them away and move on to something else?  Should I close the door to the studio and start working as a temp again?

I loved these pieces.  They were my stories.  They made me happy.  I had to try to fix them.  My website had just been completed and focused solely on this series.

I ordered more copies of the vintage flower books I had used.  I ordered top quality colored pencils to re-color the flowers. I ordered expensive UV glazes.  I worked and worked to restore all of these pieces.  Several weeks later, they were all rephotographed and my website was updated.  Now, to get gallery owners to view my website.  As I am reluctant to put myself out there, this process was slow to start.  Very slow.

Another year went by.  Busy as ever on creating, I looked up from my worktable again.  And most of the bits that should have still been red and orange were yellow again.  Tears.   Fetal position.  Removal of pieces from website.  Series marked as damaged on my inventory list.  

Most of my wall studio wall space is still given over to these pieces.  Even in their faded glory I feel love and pride.  Every day I look upon their beauty and failure.  I love them and hate them.  I am lifted up and beaten down by them.  I cannot force myself remove them to make way for new pieces.  The studio gets smaller and smaller as I keep going forward while bringing along the past.

One of these days, I will make room for the present.

Or buy a larger home.

Around the Studio

Right now, the studio is a mess.  Dust.  Cat litter.  Unfinished pieces.  Finished pieces.  Not much new going on.

Time for a close up Studio Tour.

Tomorrow the vacuum comes out.  Then there will be a parade of Swiffer products.  I will organize (further).  I will no doubt break something.

Something new will begin.

And for Heaven's sake, a few old things will finally be finished.

Color Drunk

What to do when you hit a wall while collaging?

Get the paints out.

Going back for more!  I have an urge for teal next.

Gone South

So much for my plans to do a lot of blogging over the summer.  Now I am back down in Charleston, SC.  I know my Pennsylvania friends will be calling this time of the year "fall" now that school has started, but here in Charleston, summer is still raging on.

Summer in the City I, collage, 20 x 20"

This piece represents summer in my "new" city.  Green, lush, fragrant and a bit gritty and prickly.

I have yet to do any creating since returning three weeks ago.  We are busy having the exterior of the house painted.  Each time I approach a window, a head pops up to surprise me.  A little too disconcerting when it happens in my studio.  This is a good time to photograph newer pieces and update my website.  And enjoy the rest of a long summer.

Heading North

Will eventually be called Lost in Venice #?

Soon we will travel north for the summer.  I will greatly miss my "new" home of Charleston, SC.  After less than three years, I have rooted here.  It would take great force to rip me out now.  Until quite recently, I have been dreading heading back up to Pennsylvania.  But with the daytime temperatures around 87 and nighttime being little less, I am looking forward to escaping the heat.

How I will miss my bright, happy studio.

I was hoping to finish up all projects by the time we leave.  However, I keep starting projects.  My studio walls are full and I'm lining up pieces along the floor.  Does the piece above look finished?  I'm thinking so.  But, as they say, it aint over 'til its over.  Upon my return, I have a lot of photography to do.  Another favorite gallery to contact regarding representation.  An Etsy site to update.  Blogs to write.  I have fallen down on all of the above.  I do not do New Year's resolutions.  I do Autumn resolutions.  All will be well in the fall.  Right?

And now I must begin packing for two months.  I need one of those ladies' maids from Downton Abbey to load up my trunks with all of my finery.

Fifty Shades of Blue-Green

Two weeks ago today I was standing on a bridge over the Grand Canal in Venice, fighting off selfie-stick pushers and trying my best to take photos without being overcome by my fear of heights in open spaces.

And I was amazed every minute about all of the shades of blue/green found in the canals of Venice.

I've tried my best to capture them at home in paint, but I fear I will never get close enough.  All of those shades are achingly beautiful.  I will not even attempt to describe them with words.  I am not so arrogant to think that I can.

Anyway, between those squares and those bits below (more of that to come when my cheap and outdated guidebooks arrive from Amazon's private sellers), a piece or two or three of art will be created.  I know I will fail to capture the beauty, so I'll just have to do the best I can.

And I'm going back. Some how.  Some way.  Some day.  I cannot be kept from a place so beautiful for long.

I will pester my readers with more photos soon.   I find that I am overwhelmed by the amount of photos taken.   The three of us took a total of more than 800 photos.  Some sorting must be done.

Who wants to come over for a slide show?

Upcoming

This is just a section of a piece that I have in an exhibition celebrating International Women's Day next weekend.

I find it very difficult working to a theme.  Give me lots of restrictions on a project of my choice and that's ok.  Tell me what it's going to be about and it is a struggle.

I'll post the piece in full after the exhibition is up (and after I have taken a satisfactory photo of the entire piece).

I struggled with beginning the piece for several days until I saw Shovels & Rope in concert.  They are a local band now making it big.  Ten minutes after Cary Ann Hearst walked out on the stage in her red dress, I knew I had the basis for this piece.

By the way, if Shovels and Rope comes to your town, go see them.