the blog
artful musings: dispatches from the intuitive studio of roberta wagner
finally
About a year ago, I saw this scrap of paper in my studio and loved how the inks had merged. I mounted it on 4” x 6” cradled board (shown on left below) so I could hang it on my studio wall. It reminded me of The Divine (shown on right below), a piece I made years ago . . .and of paintings I made 30 years ago.
flow
I’ve been making a lot of Mottainai Pieces (small pieces made from scraps to honor the idea that “every little thing is precious”). I planned to make one or at most two a day for at least a year. But I go out to my studio and this pile of intriguing and captivating scraps grabs me and within moments, I’ve lost track of time and mission. Three hours later, I have made more pieces than my “allotment”.
open spaces
I caught a very bad case of Covid in October and spent most of November and December watching the sky from my comfy office chair. Once the worst of the symptoms were over, I started to enjoy the quiet, unscheduled days. The lack of energy kept me resting, doodling, dreaming.
artists on couches
Kelly Joy Ladd started a great program talking to artists about how they work and are inspired. She has done video interviews (now used by some museums to help viewers understand the artistic process) and also posts shorter versions on Instagram.
the drawing
Oh my gosh – thank you for such wonderful comments both on my work and my book. Heartwarming and uplifting. Thank you.
Since there was so much interest, I thought you might like to see the pieces that are left in each of the series still available for purchase.
small pieces
Whenever I am unsure of what to do next, I start making small pieces again. They fuel play. Because they are small; there’s no risk.
superbloom
Nigel Dunnett, a wonderful garden designer, has posted photos on his Instagram account of the naturalistic “wildflower” plantings around the tower of London, called Superbloom. I drink in those photos and they fill me with joy.
transitions
I see it in my work. It’s so different from past work. No stitch. The underlying Japanese washi paper was soaked and nibbled away in the tidelands of Puget Sound. The layers of organza were burned and dipped in beeswax. This is all new for me.
again
I have known for a long time that I am intuitive artist. My hands usually know more than my mind. My heart must be fully engaged in what I am making. If I think too much, plan too much, the feeling that is brought to a piece dissipates. Often, it is only after the piece, or the series is done that I understand what was trying to come to light.