I have spent much of the summer working at Berkeley Screenprint Company, which I am taking over as of September 1. I am a printing junky, but this is a very different type of work than I have been doing. I am not certain yet how I am going to proceed, except to keep it much the same at first. I have so many ideas, and plenty of room to try them out. Luckily, the previous owner is still around generating work and helping with the transition. At home I printed 30 more invitations to my closing show on the Epson 1400—I accidentally printed the same thing on both sides of 8 of them. Not acceptable! There seems to be a 25% failure rate in my printing process, which doesn’t bode well for a print-shop business model. I am using beautiful Staples Mat Brochure paper for business cards. I printed another batch with the possum family singers schedule ( Baltic 2nd Thursday/Chester’s 4th Thursday) on back, using Photoshop– They look great. I spent half an hour trouble-shooting my auxiliary printer which I discovered was jammed due to a tiny rubber snake which had fallen into the platen. This is not what I meant by bringing odd animals into my work.
Latest
Dead Squirrel Wrap
I found a dead squirrel, a red squirrel
hands curled, a girl
feet up and tail bedraggled–caught my breath
then, in sadness,
put on another pair of gloves-
not a plastic bag!
a gag
reflex,
revulsion
fear of touching
a dead thing
a sad picture–
A newspaper?
a paper bag, smaller,
just her size.
A tool? No-
turned her over and felt the weight to ground myself
picked her up, a sleeping face
I slipped her into the
brown paper pillowcase-
inside a small, squirrel-sized shopping bag,
plastic and angel-white–
“thank you Have a Nice Day” in red
carried her to the trash bin;
blessed her life+
sent her on her way.
Hoarding for Earthday
I had a dream of an avalanche of shoes, which became silkscreens, which became art. What is my unstoppable outflow? Apparently, so many incomplete canvases that I can’t open my closet door without a refrigerator dolly. Clearly, I need a Gallery.
Sick in bed the other day, I was fascinated to come upon a marathon showing of a program called “hoarders”. I saw these people’s oceans of stored debris as a fight to keep some small amount of control over beautifully engineered packaging, and manufacturing artifacts out of the landfill–Lest we believe there is an “away” that allows us to blindly use third-world children as our slaves to save a buck, and throw our sewage into life-giving waters, or believe there is an “other” that we can bomb off the face of the earth to claim our own purity. I recognized myself in these people, victims of a throw-away culture, and their struggle to come to grips with a world of disposable ingenuity! As someone who has studied packaging, I have always collected beautiful wrappings and logos, jars with interchangeable lids, cardboard boxes of certain reusable dimensions, magazine articles I hope to read someday when the world breaks down. Styrofoam cut to fit fragile, expensive electronics is such a feat of engineering I keep it stored in the box it arrived in, as if some day when I am done with it, I will be able to ship it back to the manufacturer. In fact, the box itself tells me so.
Show at Chester’s
These and four other paintings were on display at Chester’s Bayview Cafe, 1508 Walnut Street at Vine in North Berkeley, June through August 8, 2011.
Check for further deets at possumfamilysingers.wordpress.com
Carolingian
This spring 2011 we studied Carolingian hand, developed around 800 AD under Charlemagne as a common writing hand. The first piece I completed was a haiku written for my friend Jane by Eric Christian (deceased). the appellation is in brush lettering. I signed it with a chop in my initials, which I designed and cut from a vinyl eraser.
Fruity parts
Cox’s Orange Pippin–one of a series of heritage applesIn 1993 I did a series of Prismacolor pencil illustrations for a rare fruit tree catalog while training in grafting and propagation at a Heritage Fruit nursery. In partial payment I received several rare apple, pear, fig, and other trees. A Warren Giant Pear I planted on the street gives 200 beautiful, grainless pears every year. The catalog was never printed. I also did a series of spinoffs–a paper mache pear, an apple core, and some studies. This one, which I sold, is from a photocopy–Calville blanc d’Hiver..
While living in Arizona circa 1972-4 I had access to specimens of Lophophora Williamsii, some of which still had viable had roots and were kept as pets.
Brush Lettering
I have been taking calligraphy courses at Albany Adult School since Spring of 2008. Every session we approach a different hand, and finish several unique projects. These are: a card in basic brush lettering, done with Pitts pens; a mixed-media page from a large-format hand-made journal: and a piece in Neuland hand. Thank you, Michele–for getting me started on my art blog.
Calligraphy–Uncial
Spring 2011. A few pieces in UNCIAL hand, courtesy of a week of terrible weather (for gardening) This piece is too big for my scanner–but not a bad likeness.
And a time-appropriate piece–copied from circa 715 A.D.
There’s more calligraphy if you scroll down past the landscapes . . . .
Biskup
The experience of suddenly being taken in by an image–a color I want to try to reproduce, the idea that I know I can, and want to be the one that does it–impels a work of art forward and magically brings it together on the page. What is the suspension of disbelief? What is the source from which the original image came? Some analysis takes place, it’s astounding that just finding the tube of Vat Orange, black Pentel brush pen, yellow and green Winsor/Newton inks and water on Arches paper, all come together in a gestalt that I enjoy more than the original postcard I was compelled to copy.
The whole piece took one hour concept to blow-dryer finish, looks so cool in my calligraphy journal.
Sometimes there is a fear, based on the memory of how long a project took and the steps and intricacies involved, that distracts me from beginning a piece–all the time it was all impulse and instinct that moved it forward, the delicious feeling of brushes on fine soft paper. Getting to that state is often elusive, and the thought of figuring it all out logically blows my mind!
Then there is the embarrassment of copying–without the years of whatever lead up to the style and composition–the original is a hard-edge painting on a glossy postcard. Somehow, though, it is very satisfying. Thanks, Tim!
























