Christmas Cards...

Woke up this morning with a poem/ode trying to force itself into my conciousness... don't worry, I won't try to recreate it here, or at least not now... not sure it's possible to retrieve anyway but seems there's something that needs to be said so I should probably give it some attention. These poetic overtures only surface once or twice a decade and the process seems to be worthwhile, a strictly personal benefit, but worthwhile none the less.

Speaking of 'every so often,' I scrolled down through recent posts (recent?) and realized I'm on a monthly entry of late and I will be out of step if I don't hurry and get Dec's entry posted. I'll use this opportunity (deadline? excuse?) to tackle a project that needs to be documented... posterity wouldn't be the same without, you understand... okay, give me some slack ;)


Back when I took up screen printing... um, that would be mid 70's... a side project was the creation of an annual Christmas card which I designed and printed for about ten or so years. When I quit serigraphy as an art medium, I quit the whole process so the original cards ceased. I haven't really enjoyed the ritual of mailing out cards since... store cards seemed so banal, even with the typed page of family updates that were a standard enclosure all the years there was much to talk about (like where are we stationed now and what are the kids up to?) I figure this blog serves the purpose these days... for better or for worse, it's here for the taking.

So reacquainted myself with the scanner, cranked it up and here are most of my old cards... sometimes the design wraps to the back, none were ever marketed, they were strictly for our own use. Still have a few leftovers which I use for family gift enclosures, and even those are down to the ones where ink smeared or had some sort of imperfection... I always kind of liked imperfections...

Chaos...

I joke about chaos... this book was purchased for the title, though it's a fun read for gardeners, and propped on this shelf to remind myself that neatness isn't required, though some type of organization is a benefit.

Note the little round glass next to it... clothespins with g-kids names, used for their cups and towels in a vain attempt to organize the chaos of their visits. Next to that is a small pottery jar with driftwood from a French Mediterranean beach (there were no shells so bits of wood had to do) along with the remains of a stalk of dates, also from France... all representing my need to hold on to memories with something I can touch.

The faux flowers below are a convenience I enjoy... I once grew white gloxinias like this but it was a pain to keep the hot house tropical in bloom... this one is much more obliging. Next to that is a photo of my mother and her first great grandson... she's departed, he's graduating from HS this year... time marches on, no need to prompt the memory in that department.

The two vases partially in view contain plastic bags for a quick grab when needed. I'm actually hording the good bags in case the country gets serious about the chaotic use and dispersal of these trashy conveniences. They still serve as watermarks in trees in parts of New Orleans... I hope they do outlaw them, but I'll still have my stash in vases. And that's just one set of shelves in the laundry room. I love shelves!

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While on the subject of chaos... Still trying to sort through all these old prints and watercolors while arranging, tossing, unframing, unmatting, oohing and ahhing, remembering, photographing, photoshopping etc. etc... and finally wrapping and putting away the keepers. Serigraphs as well as lots of old watercolors... if all were just dumped, who would know the difference? Maybe next time around. These are my footsteps and looking back to where I've been is amusing to me.

E-friends are telling me I should not be tossing, but cropping and collaging. Well, that's how these stacks of chaos came to be! Unknown future creative urges have always kept me from clearing out as I go. It's hard to do even now, but sometimes having too much can be suffocating. I'll have my assistant (should he or she ever be hired) set up an eBAy shop and raffle them off...

Even so, I don't handle chaos well... though some would quickly point to a lifetime of *ahem* chaotic-ish habits... perhaps I require a certain amount in order to recover from it and feel that welcome surge of high octane creativity once things are again arranged alphabetically... and out of sight.

Here's a frontal of the NonConeFormist print I was working on in the photograph a few entries ago. The colors don't photograph or reduce well, too complimentary or something... the camera's a three year old dinosaur, could be part of it.

Sorting... And Rescuing...

So there I was, digging into several stacks of old stored paintings when I realized a large number of the watercolors were abandoned efforts that might benefit from just a little attention. These works were at the tail end of a long commitment to the grass series and I had begun exploring new directions and mediums... they probably just didn't hold my attention any longer... the magic was gone.

So here's the plan... I've always figured that someday I'd take up watercolor again, more as a pastime than a career move. Let's face it, at some point I'm going to prefer sitting to standing and working with sizes under 30" instead of 6' canvases. Why not play around with a few of these unfinished works just to see if there's still a flicker of feeling for the medium. If it goes well I'll show before and after images... but more than likely it will become apparent to me that I gave up on them for very good compositional reasons. But then, maybe time will have given me new visions for new solutions. Some look quite promising, though there is little future for them.

I ripped up a lot of quality 30 lb paper today... some could have been gessoed for other uses but I've already got stacks of that... prepped and waiting. That's not really a very large trash bin... but it's a start. Could be that after trying to finish one or two pieces, I'll get a bigger container and put all the old has-beens out of their misery.

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Part Two...

Same song, different verse... this time with old serigraphs. I've been threating to get all the old SSPs (silk screen prints) properly photographed and put on the archival section of my website, but procrastination runs thick in my veins. But with the spirit of the moment, ie resolutions and all that, I'm going full blower. I won't be tossing any at this point, maybe later when I get to the drawers of old prints that didn't make it to the signing stage... suitable for g-kids to draw on the back, mostly. At some point in my printing marathon I thought it would be a good idea to hold back the first numbered print of each edition... thinking, of course, that they would someday be very valuable *smirk*. Well, I'm glad I did... not that they are valuable to anyone but me. But what a bunch of jolts to the ole memory! Each one has a story and, brace yourselves, I will share a few in due time. Haven't taken a precise count of them but there are easily over a hundred. Man! I'm so impressed!

I've got my work cut out for me!

Pun Cones

My 'annual' resolution has been, for some years, to cull out old, stored artwork, separate the wheat from the chaff... you know the drill. Man, I saved EVERYTHING! So for the past few days I've been working in that direction. Naturally, I'm finding long forgotten stuff including a couple of sets of color separations from back in the late 70's. I guess I was nearing 40 when this photo was taken for a newspaper interview, probably in conjunction with an upcoming show. I couldn't imagine why he was posing me this way but it turned out well... it's one of my favorite shots but until scanners, I didn't know what to do with the separations.

Serigraphy was nearly unknown in Montgomery, AL when we arrived in 1976. I'd had some good instruction at our last assignment in DC and I had the field to myself at art festivals in the area. I enjoyed talking about the process, showing a small screen and explaining how it worked. The fact that they were considered multiple originals confused most (one man insisted on purchasing the original... I should have run home and created one for him!) But the public appreciated the lower selling price compared to my watercolors and seemed to like them. I had a good run with this medium.

Although the brick walls look 'loft-like' it was actually our sunporch... the first studio that didn't involve a kitchen sink. I strung wire and clothespins across one corner for hanging prints to dry, it was a very rudimentary arrangement but it worked.

The print I'm posed with here was part of a series I dubbed "Pun Cones." It involved one cut stencil of a pine cone which I used in multiple formats and gave pun-ish titles hoping to invoke cleverness. This one was called "NonConeFormist" because the lower right square is tipping away from the group of four. When it was shown in a group show, another artist called me, all worried that part of my entry was falling out of the mat. I'll highlight others in this series as they are uncovered/rediscovered... could be worth a chuckle.

The Flip Side of Serigraphy

With all the remembering going on regarding the new/old lake house... there was a dark side too. I was thinking back to the work I was doing at the time and it was primarily serigraphy. I'd made a mark for myself with the medium because no one else was doing much of it, at least on my beaten path, which was mostly juried arts festivals within a day's drive. My first major gallery venture gave me a wonderful springboard into art as a career with serigraphs being my strong suit. Silk screen printing, at that time and at least as far as I knew, was very primitive. I used simple cut stencils but did go into a bit of photo emulsion usage, all oil based as this was before water based inks had been perfected.

At this time, I was also suffering from periodic depression. It would come and go but wasn't monthly so I didn't know where to put the blame. I happened to pick up a magazine that probably saved my life. It included an article and chart of dangerous artists materials... and I learned that I had been literally bathing in depressant solvents whenever I printed. This was about 1985 and they were just beginning to talk about this sort of thing. The depression cycles had become worse, even including suicidal thoughts. Talk about timely information! As it happened, J got an offer he couldn't refuse and we had to sell our "forever" house on the lake and move to NOLA. As you probably know, silk screen posters were everywhere in New Orleans, printed on very hi-tech equipment I could never have competed with anyway. So my printing days were over forever, I was able to quit cold turkey and I had no regrets. Life improved immensely. I can't imagine being in that kind of funk, can't even remember it now.

Pano 4, serigraph, 12x25, 1983

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At a recent b'day celebration for our 6 yr old g-kid, the 11 yr old volunteered to wrap the gifts, make cards and signage... whew! Great value, methinks. After the festivities, all wrappings, etc were tossed into the guest room to deal with later. Today, dealing day, I discover that the big sign was drawn on an expensive, pristine piece of 2 ply rag museum board! I'd assumed it was the back of an old piece of poster board... ha! Guess I'll need to explain the difference to the young artist.

My Boards - 1978

What a motly display! But hey! There's a ribbon hanging next to a serigraph... ummm... seems they are all serigraphs. Note the twine tie downs... must not have been much of a wind threat, but a plastic flap on the back indicates rain was a possibility. I'm guessing this was Seventeen Springs, (rural Alabama north of Montgomery) an annual spring arts and crafts show, well attended and decent sales. I think I spent as much as I made at this particular event. Oak woven baskets... pottery pieces I still use on a daily basis. My prints were easy sales as they were a fraction of the cost of a "real" painting, and easy for me to just frame up another print if one sold. My editions were small, however, usually in the 15-20 range, never more than 25, so it was almost like getting an original. These were my first boards, pegboard and heavy... J later made another set for me that were burlap lined. I wore out both sets and was enviously eyeing the professional aluminum racks and folding tents when I tired of the road show and moved on.