looking

The past two months have flown by. Earlier last month, I gave a talk to a Vancouver fiber arts group that prompted me to look back over the past 40 years of art and writing.

Then, I spent 11 days on a trip to Washington, D. C., New York City, and upstate New York. I saw old friends, revisited my old homes and the east wing of the National Gallery in D.C., walked the HighLine Garden in New York, and saw the masterful creation of The Little Island nearby.

The talk and the trip seemed to bring my past to the present. I remembered how much I love gardens. Frederick Law Olmstead said:

“A park is a work of art, as much as a painting or a sculpture. It must have an intrinsic beauty that appeals to the eye, but it must also have a deeper meaning that touches the soul.”

In my book, I said that during my years spent as a Realtor, I made very little art. It’s not true. I made gardens. They were walking gardens full of paths and movement. Here are a few pictures of them.

For the past two months, though, my studio got short shrift. I’d pop in and out without enough concentrated time to bring pieces to full resolution. And now the studio is a mess of intriguing but unfinished ideas.

It’s OK. Some kind of shift is going on underneath.

Today, with the flurry of activity quieting, I’m just sitting and thinking in the studio. So much of art making is sitting and looking – sitting and looking.

Here are some snippets of ideas that are the most intriguing to me. I love the spareness.

I also love some corners of these experiments on Chinese Xuan paper. I like seeing the brush strokes so reminiscent of streaking clouds and the feel of underlying patterns.

Where to go next? Not sure but it feels good to spend time looking.

Warmly,