Long Days

I have been busy getting all of my new art ready for the Studio Tours.  It is exciting, yes, but also exhausting.  I am a little stressed that I won't be ready for people to descend upon my studio.  Nevertheless, I am going to go ahead and invite you all to come and visit me!!!  I WILL be ready, it just doesn't feel that way right now.  The Studio Tours are this coming weekend, the 24th and 25th of October, from 9 to 5 pm.  If you are nearby, and interested in coming for a visit, please email me at karine@karineswenson.com.  I will send you directions to our house.  I will have three other artists and their work here, in addition to my own.  For more information about the tours, visit the Morongo Basin Cultural Arts Council website here, or the Hwy62 Art Tours website here.

Last week, Patricia asked me if I could share with you what I think about when I paint.  I have been pondering this question ever since it was posed to me.  It is not an easy question for me to answer, because the process of painting for me is so intuitive.  I suppose when I begin to paint, there are all kinds of thoughts that sift through my mind.  I never have a clear picture in my mind of what I want the painting to look like when I begin.  I know some artists do.  I usually do not.  Sometimes, I have a feeling or an idea in my mind.  However, there is no clear vision of what I am going to paint.  I find this approach to be exciting and compelling.  I have a process, or maybe a ritual, before I begin to paint.  It is a series of steps that I take to help me reach almost a meditative state.  I have found that my best work happens when I am NOT thinking.  At least, when I am not allowing my rational, chattering mind to be the instigator of my marks.  It is better when I am almost unaware of what is happening, on a conscious level.   I remember once reading about East Asian calligraphers, and their process for preparing the ink before practicing calligraphy.  This has been years ago, and I am sorry if this is inaccurate, but what I remember was that the process of grinding the inkstick into liquid ink was a slow, methodical process that helped the calligrapher prepare his or her mind for doing calligraphy.  It was after reading about this process that I decided to develop a process of my own. 

When I paint, I always listen to music.  The music is like the string that holds a strand of pearls together.  It is the unifying force in a painting - leading me from one stroke to the next.  I don't really think of myself as being in charge of what happens on the canvas.  I am more like a spectator.  This probably sounds rather far-fetched, but this is exactly how it feels to me when I have reached the state of consciousness that produces my most inspired work.  Other creative people have referred to this kind of inspiration as "the muse" or the divine force.  I suppose it could be whatever you want to call it.  If you have ever experienced it for yourself, than you will know what I am talking about.   It is a wonderful state to be in, because everything else in the world seems to slip away.  I lose track of time, I stop thinking about worries, what I have to do tomorrow, what I have to do today; anything that might wander through my mind normally is just pushed aside.  I like to think that a part of this feeling can be conveyed in the finished painting.  If you asked me what I wanted to convey in my art, I would say that I want it to be the kind of thing you could look at to help you forget about your cares.  I am interested in creating art that lifts the spirit, much in the way I feel my spirit lifted when I listen to my favorite music.  (I once thought if I could paint a painting as powerful and beautiful as Handel's Messiah, I would really have done something.  I think about that as being my ultimate goal as an artist.)

So, my friend Patty, when you said my paintings seem ethereal, I feel encouraged, because I think that perhaps I am beginning to convey my intention clearly.  I hope this answers your question.  If any of you readers have other questions, please feel free to comment and ask me!  I will do my best to anwer.  Thanks, and good night!

Wednesday's vulture

I forgot to tell you about the turkey vultures last week.  They migrate over Joshua Tree at this time of year, and one day last week on the morning walk with the dog, we startled a bunch of them that had been roosting in a neighbors tree.  Pono loves to bark at birds, especially big ones.  So, when the first few vacated the tree, Pono became very excited and began to bounce up and down, barking.  There was some difficulty getting a good photograph while hanging onto a bouncing dog's leash.  Luckily for me, there was this one brave vulture on top of the power lines that was not perturbed by Pono's antics, so this is the bird I photographed for you.  Unfortunately, I only had my little point and shoot camera, so the close up isn't that great.  I found out that turkey vultures don't build nests for their young.  That one fact seems to stand out for me, for whatever odd reason.  Also, when they fly, they rely on thermals to stay aloft, and only beat their winds infrequently.  It is really breathtaking to watch a large group of them in flight for this reason.

One more new painting, and I must then wash my dishes.  This one measures 24 x 8 inches, it is oil over acrylic on canvas, and I think the title is "Memories."

Monday's Jackrabbit

Another week begins with a cool, cloudy day. I may not be a fan of the cold, but if it rains, (which it might) I will not complain. We haven't seen rain in far too long. Even the desert needs rain, every now and then. When we don't see rain, the native creatures get creative in their quest to survive. This morning, when I went outside with Mr. Pono the dog, I discovered that one of the drip hoses for my plants had been pulled out of the ground and the end of it had been chewed off. Part of the hose was in the middle of our dusty dirt road. I have learned to bury the irrigation system, but clearly even that won't protect it from the thirstiest of varmits. If I had to bet on who the culprit was, my money would be on the beloved jack rabbit. They are cool-looking and have wonderful ears, but they are also known to eat any landscaping plant known and basically cause gardening mischief.

I have still been hard at work in the studio, but this is my last week of oil painting before the Art Tours. For those of you who aren't aware of it, an oil painting can takes weeks or even MONTHS to dry completely, depending on how thick the paint has been applied to the surface. I don't want to end up with a bunch of wet oil paintings when I have people wandering through my studio. That's just asking for messy, oil paint disaster. Knowing that my days of oil painting will be interrupted is enough to make me feel desperate and slightly panicked. I am so much in the groove of the painting process right now that I dread the idea of this interruption, no matter how needed it is. I guess that is what you might call a painting addiction.


I leave you with a photo of one of the newest oil paintings. It may not be finished yet. I am still thinking about it. It measures 24 x 30 x 2.5 inches and I have titled it "The Elements." So far, it has met with mixed reviews.

A Thursday Evening

Some days are such a challenge. I wish I knew why! All day, my plan was to get into the studio. First, my Dad called. (Hi Dad!) Then, I had to catch up with my friend Nora, who has been away. My hairdresser called, and said he had a cancellation, so if I wanted my haircut before November, I needed to come in at noon. (This was good news, because I did need a haircut.) As I was getting ready to make a little something to eat, my dentist called to say, "uh, Karine, you were supposed to be here about 10 minutes ago for a cleaning!" OOOPS!!! So I discovered how quickly I can brush my teeth and get to the dentist's office. I had just enough time to grab a quick taco and let the dog out before my haircut. When I got home, hair freshly cut and styled, I realized I had forgotten something at the hairdresser's. Back to the hairdressers. Blah blah blah... The whole day just continued in this fashion, until next thing you know, it's dark. I am getting spoiled now, and don't really like painting in the dark anymore. Besides, I had blogging to do!

So, no studio time today!!! I am disappointed, but I also know that missing one day in the studio means I will be REALLY committed to being in there all day tomorrow, so I am not going to lose sleep over it. (well, maybe a little...)

After visiting some of my favorite blogs, and leaving comments, I have decided I am going to write a book using the "words" that you have to enter to get your comment to post (in blogger). You know, wonderful words like "phoatr" or "ratonize". I mean, these "words" MUST mean SOMETHING!!! They just have to! What about "keysly". I am pretty sure that is an adjective. The keysly young girl just HAD to have ice cream on hot days. Something like that. Sometimes these "words" appear in Facebook, when you are about to post a link. Is this a sign that I spend too much time on the computer??? I think I know the answer to that, already.

I leave you with another one of the new monotypes, this one is a gold jackrabbit, measuring 5 x 7 inches.

Letters

I feel like the luckiest girl. In the mail, just last week, I actually got a letter. A real, bona fide letter! I have been reading posts from fellow bloggers recently, referring to letter writing. This recent attention in letter writing has lead me to make an effort of my own to write letters to people more often. Letter writing is something I used to love to do, and I used to both send and receive letters frequently. With the advent of email and facebook, plus all of the other quick and easy online ways to stay in touch, it seemed that my letter writing had fallen by the wayside. Picking up a pen and hand writing to a friend felt like a homecoming, of sorts. I wouldn't necessarily say that I was writing so that I would receive a letter in return for my efforts, even though getting a letter is such a delight. No, I simply wanted to write letters, and show my love for people in this way. I do receive letters in return from one of these dear people, and I am always delighted. But the letter I received last week was unexpected in the most wonderful way!

This letter came from a friend and fellow artist who I knew in Salida, CO. Her name is Cindy Heller (hi Cindy!) and I hadn't really heard from her since moving away. As it turns out, she has been following my blog, but hasn't posted comments so that I knew she was out there, reading. How cool is that? Cindy makes the most wonderful art dolls. I actually have given a home to one of these wonderful dolls. I had the privilege of selling these wonderful creations in my gallery, Cool Mountain Art. I am so happy to find out that I have another fan of my blog, especially one who is so dear to my heart. Thank you, Cindy, both for following the blog and for your divine letter! Here is a photo of the "Wise Woman" doll that I own. I consider these dolls to be dolls for grown girls, because they have wonderful, inspirational sayings on them. This doll says "I color outside the lines." (in case you can't read it.) I never colored outside the lines as a kid, but I am learning to be brave and do so as an adult!

I leave you with another photo of a new monotype. This one is of the ubiquitous desert quail, the Gambel's Quail. I love these funny birds! Their fancy topknot brings to mind a lady with a plumed hat, dressed to go out on the town. They make lots of noise, but are, at the same time, very skittish. I enjoy their antics, and have done little sketches of them as they forage around our desert home. This monotype is a result of one of those tiny sketches, and it measures 7 x 5 inches.


Once again, I want to thank you all for reading my blog. This is for those of you who come by, read and comment regularly and for those of you who pop over once or twice, leaving no trace of your visit. I appreciate each and every one of you, and it is for you that I find the desire to write. THANKS!

Cool weather approaching

At least that's the rumor. I have to admit that I am NOT looking forward to cooler weather. Mainly because I hate being cold, and in the winter I am always cold. Cooler weather means eventually cold (for me) weather, and has me in a state. Such a state, that I drank an extra cup of hot tea this morning in preparation, bought two pairs of extremely fuzzy socks, more boxes of hot tea at the store, and has me looking at a possible new blanket purchase. And it still got up to 88 degrees (F) today. I am one of those freaks who likes the house to be right about 78 or 80 degrees. When it dips down too close to 70 degrees in the house, I am reaching for a sweater and a pair of slippers. You may think I am exaggerating, so if you need confirmation on this, just ask my husband. I drive him crazy once the cold winter sets in, because I complain a lot and spend most of my time sitting next to the space heater. Please don't let it get cold too soon. Thanks.

Despite my tendency to keep my nose pointed down much of the time while walking outside, I have not seen any more tarantulas or snakes lately. I have noticed fresh new snake tracks, etching their way across our sandy dirt road. I look near the bushes where the tracks disappear, but no snake. What I have found about fun desert encounters of the creepy critter kind is that they only occur when you are least expecting it. Perhaps that is why so many times we are startled by the random slithering snake or fuzzy tarantula. I can't explain it. All I know is that I am often hoping for an encounter. I am not what you would call a girly girl. You know, the kind of girl who screams at snakes and lizards. Having said that, I wouldn't call myself brave, either. Certainly, I have been startled by the occasional coiled rattlesnake on the trail I am running down. I guess maybe it stems from all those years I spent as a youngster, dressed in black, strange hair, listening to music about vampires, snakes, lizards and other things that most normal people are repelled by. I think I have always felt somewhat repelling, myself, and so I recognize a bit of myself in these desert denizens. Whatever it is, I am fascinated by this desert, and eternally impressed with ANY creature that can call this place home.

I leave you with one more of the new birds. This one, called "Speak Softly" is an 8 x 10 inch, hand pulled monotype. Even more are lined up, drying, waiting to be scanned and shared with you, my dear blog readers.

Birds!

Long hours have been spent in the studio, making new monotypes. I have found a lighter weight printmaking paper that is enabling me to get better prints without a printing press, and I am having lots of fun. In my sketchbook, I have many tiny sketches of animals. The sketchbook itself is small - about 6 x 5 inches. So these sketches of animals are often dime-sized or smaller. They are just little quick sketches I do of the animals I see outside the window. As it turns out, many of them happen to be birds. Some of them were so much fun, that I decided to use them for making monotypes. I drew larger versions of these little sketches onto cardboard. (I save cardboard from boxes of crackers, cereal, or other food items.) I then cut the drawings out. Then, they get ink rolled on them, are placed on top of an inked plate, and are printed onto my printmaking paper. I have been using a baren, a pin press and a wooden spoon to apply pressure. For a step by step tutorial on how I print monotypes without a press, click here.

Here are a few of the results. The first one (at the top of this post) is called "Inquiry II", and measures 10 x 8 inches. The next one is untitled, and measures 5 x 7 inches.


This one is "Calling II" and measures 8 x 10 inches.


I hope to have a few of the new ones listed for sale in my etsy shop by the end of the week. I will be sure to let you know when that happens!