Thiebaud is one of my favorite painters, if for some reason you aren’t familiar with his work, I found a few videos that highlight some of the reasons I think he takes the cake…

It’s been a terrific day, I’ve been extremely productive lately in the studio and with researching.  Researching is what I like to call all that stuff that falls in between producing that feels like it might not have anything directly to do with my work, but always seems to come creeping into it, in some fashion or another, through my own filter.

I’ve really felt drawn to Native American art lately, particularly the work from women who made intricate woven patterns, like these nobility blankets made with organic dyes and wool by the Northwest Coast Salish people…

And this pattern! Recently I fell hard for a rug (and ended up getting it on eBay) that had zigzags in it.  It makes my day every time I walk across it.  This one I found in a book I was browsing tickles me because it looks a bit like my handbag I was carrying the same day… serendipity.

Earlier this year at the SAM I saw some incredible work by Salish Coast artists, I really wish that non-flash photography was allowed in more museums so I could share some with you.  I came across the work of Susan Pavel while looking for more examples… aren’t these weavings by her so elegant?

“please let this be as good as I think it is in my head.” -says erin fetherston, along with any artist who wrestles to originate and develop a creative idea, which may sometimes be more exciting than the result itself! (i really do find her design aesthetic so refreshing.) in art, the build up from point A to END is why i wake up everyday and begin, so a dozen new fresh starts may come to form, and the thrill of being in the middle of a process of creating is a promise.

enjoy this sweet little clip, more hearts soon. x

i would have loved to see the rauschenbergs on loan at the jonathon o’hara gallery that closed just a few days ago in manhattan. the special exhibit had 42 works altogether, some of which had never been shown in the states. the collection displayed the pioneered transfer technique that rauschenberg originally developed. he is one of my biggest artist crushes, my mixed medium hero. i’m just so drawn to their suggestive faint memories of 1960s politics, materialism and personalities. i guess you could say he is a true favorite of mine because he outlasts other fleeting art infatuations and i never tire of him. kind of like listening to peter gabriel…but that’s for another day…

this summer i experimented with drawing in this handmade book by seedpod with transfers using an inexpensive (and safe) transfer pen. the results were really fun and immediate and a good exercise in collaging. i wish i had taken photos of it before i packed it away.

later i found a totally inspiring artist from wales, christian j. olsen, who fills moleskines up with gorgeous solvent transfer imagery. some that i could visually linger in are blossom and girl suitcase.

some might say that jewelry is just a way for a girl to decorate herself, but i believe there is so much more. everything in my jewelry box has a story that reminds me of a person, time or event in my lifetime. little tiny heirlooms of memories that i can unlock each time i put them on. it’s lovely to have small precious physical reminders of the non-tangible elements and to collect them over the years.

whenever i can get the time, i like to indulge in researching. i used to skip lunch in high school so that i could go to the library and look for something new. (i clearly remember finding ovid and basquiat this way, and when i would find a nice “hiding spot” in between the rows of books i felt like bastian from the neverending story minus the techo-pop soundtrack.) so naturally, this gathering of ideas runs over to designing jewelry.

there is so much to learn. most recently i came across victorian mourning jewelry. these pieces contained a woman’s crowning glory, locks of hair worked in an intricate manner behind glass. carrying the brooch or locket with you was a way to remember the loved one who had passed on. they had a short life span of being in style in the 19th century mostly popular during the reign of queen victoria. that’s a fashion trend for you.

and so the question remains in me…how best to recreate the symbolism and precious element of memory in my own work?

so. looking through my own personal journal is hilarious. it’s a random mess of scribbles and drawings, loose papers that i can never manage to keep in one solid book. unlike my husband. you should really see his manner of recording life. he has everything that he wants to remember, entires about his day and other little things for his eyes only…all written with his specific style of pen, in tiny pocket sized moleskines. before we left the states, he went out and bought a giant stack of fresh ones to pack in his suitcase since he goes through them so quickly. he is dutiful, logical, methodic even. he carries his notebook with him everywhere. it’s adorable.

enter jenny! a chaotic dash of a thought glimmer here, a saved napkin turned lightbulb moment there. it is a word collage. bolts of sporadic illuminations, pictures, drawings, what have yous. somehow i prefer it that way. when i go back at the mess, the evidence of whatever i am declaring to remember, to savor, is reflected in the way i save it. and i never know when something i’ve saved will pop up at the right time.

these following phrases are from georgia o’keefe’s own journal, they struck me as so familiar that i saved them and brought them with me (slightly crumpled.)

“I need a change of scenery. I couldn’t bear the thought of returning to lake george for yet another summer. I felt so trapped there-the thick trees dropping with greenery, the humid air so heavy and damp. And worse still, people coming and going constantly. I dreaded spending day after day with the same old people having the same old conversations about the same old topics.

I’m an artist whose inspiration comes from the world around me. I hadn’t painted for months because I was tired of living the same old life and seeing the same old things. I needed to be away from lake george and its distractions.”

georgia, i hear you.

our second day in tuscany we are joined again with paolo, a local guide who we briefly met on our way from the airport to casacce our first night. he brings his adorable expecting wife, veronica, to paint with us and we are all happy to meet her. paolo coming along just made the trip because he could explain every chestnut and olive tree, the and history of the area, everything about his beautiful home…this morning we also learn from him that cortona was recently put on the map by frances mayes, and i’m stunned that it took an american writers experience here to bring the town more visits. why would it ever be hidden? but then maybe the best places are kept secret. that must be it.

cortona is set on a hilltop so you can imagine the breathtaking view we awed over before we actually arrived inside the town walls. its medieval outline around the village was the very same wall that was commanded by the medici fortress from the reniassance. walls of living history, smoothed down by centuries and wind. we begin off the bus at piazza garibaldi and walk on via nazionale (called “flat street” by the locals) passing lots of sweet little shops with offerings of jewelry, leather sandals, books, and many postcards. all along the way we notice incredible steep alleyways, all filled with abrupt, angular light in the distance of the slopes. we peer into the pretty window displays and i notice frances mayes books in a few shops. her villa, bramasole, is somewhere on the outskirts of town.

next we all gather for a painting demo at the piazza della repubblica, at a perfect spot overlooking the square. cindy and theresa are our experts, their lightning fast brushwork had me so impressed as they whip up the perfect display of cascading flowers from window boxes and stonework. i had forgotten watercolor has so many secrets. everyone else immediately settles into their portable stools or a perch, paintboxes and backpacks open. but i can’t possibly sit down. i’ve flown all these miles, waited all this time to come here and i can’t concentrate until i’ve seen more of cortona. it only takes me a moment to decide this. so we go with the artistic hesitation and listen to intuition. scott and his sister marianne are in the same boat. so mom and i join them and we start with a quick and eager pace towards the edge of the town in no particular direction, filled with anticipation of what will be above each vertical horizon and bend.

we immediately walk into another square, piazza signorelli. “gelato!” i exclaim as finally i spot a gelateria, vacant and still with just one dark haired women sleepily smoking a cigerette outside in a white patio chair. “i’ve been in italy for almost three days and i haven’t tasted any gelato! let’s go!” the woman outside suddenly perks up from her casual snooze, she’s behind the counter in a flash witnessing my frantic finger waving and my best attempts at ordering un cono cioccolata & stracciatella! i order for my mom. marianne orders and we discover coconut. it must be a sin. it’s toooo good.

scott’s pace turns up a thousand notches and we race after him. where is he going? none of us speak, we just follow with our cameras and cones, licking as fast as our pace will allow. my arm is slowly being covered in chocolate stickiness and i stop dead in my tracks because we run into not a dead end, but a beautiful beginning. the most breathtaking view of the val di chiana, an expanse of dotted green and gold reaching so far i wonder if home even exists. i end up putting the remains of my cone on the city wall and just breathe in the sight. i would be done for if i had vertigo, looking straight down was a bit frightening.

we spend most of the afternoon inside the etruscan museum, which was worth every 7.00 euro for the entrance fee. rewind with me to the chicago airport when i first met up with mom. we were gazing over some beautiful necklaces there and i was gushing all about my new found love of making jewelry and how an unexpected little craft has turned into a full blown adoration. my new direction, after so many interests dazzling me here and there, is going to be jewelry design. im so infatuated and excited about making it my main source of concentration. settling into a niche. feeling comfortable about that feels like a big step to me. exciting! i love how it combines all aspects of art, sculpture, design, inspiration from paintings and colors, nature, history, fashion! so with that in mind, as we’re approaching the different rooms in the museum, these beautiful necklaces behind the glass cases just capture me. from etruscan times! they looked so modern, so delicate, their 18k gold details just so gorgeous!! i would say that it was one of the highlights of the entire trip, seeing that small collection from the beginning of time. i wish i had taken more photos of the teensy tiny hoops, i wondered where the etruscans were pierced for them. the rings, the pins, they were all just so exquisite. on our way to find the exit in the museum, we also came by a sweet surprise view of the countryside that literally took my breath away. standing there on outside walkway to the next room, the most glorious scene of tiled rooftops, swooping swallows and somewhere children chattering and laughing in italian. every moment just succeeded the next!

we made it back at our painting spot, finally satisfied enough to concentrate. i zeroed in on a linens shop in front of me and filled my sketchbook while listening to the various people walk by. while we were painting, at any stop in our trip, passerbyers would come inside our circle to see what was going on. they would stay a while and sometimes say things in languages we didn’t understand. painting with an audience, no pressure, right?

the scent of pizza overpowered us and we wrapped things up for the afternoon with duo slices of margherita and bottles of fanta. mom noticed a photograph of a well known classical musician posing with some children on the wall of the pizzeria. we made it back to piazza garibaldi finishing up our slices and taking in the town as much as we could before boarding the bus towards the finale of the day…casiglione del lago.

i get off the bus in total relief (carsick!) and immediately we line up inside a gelateria, later i (grin) proudly realize that i ordered just what i wanted (pistachio and chocolate chip in a cup) without any signs or labels indicating the price or names of the gelato. not that my italian improved much from then on, i mean, that’s the most important kind of thing to know, right?

we meandor a bit before i realize that it really is troppe caldo and i do have my swimming suit with me. i challenge my new friend marianne a race to shore and as she is gaining on me she yells, no fair! im injured! i stop concerned for her and she belts right past me with peals of neverending laughter. we continue our splashing and banter in the cool water of lake trasimeno, joined with some of the other women, susan and malissa. it’s the most perfect shallow sandy bottomed lake. no better solution to a hot day that was filled with art, food, history, views. behind us beyond the shore is an enourmous castle on the hillside, joined with and i want to cry with the beauty all around me. i felt so genuinely happy in that moment, nothing else in the world could top this!

the day is wrapped up back at casacce where we all view each others paintings from the day over another delicious spread of delicious cena. we know we’ll be leaving early the next day so we pack up our supplies again and fall asleep with visions of cypress trees dancing in our heads…

so i still had a few dollars left on my free itunes card (won a la blingo! yeah!) and browsing for music kept leading me to albums i already had. (does that ever happen to you?) stumble in caroline. if you love dreamy female vocals with a hint of ambient electronica like i do, look no further. i found her. an enchanting, supernatural brilliance from toyko. and according to her label’s website, there’s no samples used! dozens of live acoustic instruments – pianos, harps, bells, guitars, strings and hand drums…and doesn’t that make it feel even more magical. i’m so infatuated. perfect summer traveling music, daydreaming and sketching poolside.

& an amazing image from anna ura, reminds me of driving late at night. being in the city. ready to change the world. see more here. found via the beholder.

*extreme painting. to temper my mood these days. like this one by cy twombly. an art professor from college grew up with him. she told me how strange his fame was to her. and how he married a princess. yep, a real one. and she still remembers him saying regular school boy things on the bus. silly things. the painting above reminds me of when i finally got my own dorm room my freshman year at college. the first thing i did was hang a giant piece of canvas on the wall and fill the space with abstract color. every day i added to it, changing like my feelings. a visual journal without the permanence of pen. it felt like a big secret, even though an entire wall made it hard to miss by constant traffic from friends.

*these boots by sugar to wear every single day this winter. over jammies. and jeans. and thick tights. or bare feet. yummy. santa baby? please take note. i’ll love you forever!

*redecorating to a minimal, open and spacious style. i have been purging things that i don’t truly love over the past few weeks and have found it so liberating. my house feels so much larger, peaceful and calm. isn’t it amazing what just a married couple with a toddler can accumulate over a little time? and really, i’m about as far away from a pack rat as they come so it’s a shock how many things i have given away. now i enjoy my rooms so much more and i’m craving deeper colors for the walls and warm rugs on the floors. our entire house is floored with dark wood, so some cozy spots so lay around on seem essential when the cool weather kicks in. (snatched a photo rom west elm:love the colors and that lamp & bucket chair!)

~grateful today~ for being able to fulfill my possibilities. to believe in them is enough, but to live in a free country and be able to raise my max without any strain and have friends who tell me that i have what it takes is enough to fill a whole lifetime worth of pages of gratitude.

Wayne Thiebaud told PBS’ Newshour with Jim Lehrer that he doesn’t really call himself an artist, saying, “Isn’t it something for other people to make a decision about? I think it’s just like, as I say, it’s like a priest referring to himself as a saint. … It’s decided apart from you and that’s the way it should be.”

Could that have been said better? It seems that I am always coming across my own opinions worded by someone else. I’ve been leafing through all of the beautiful pages of Thiebaud’s paintings in my new book and taking in all of the colors on his cakes and landscapes. (Gotta love amazon gift cards for Christmas, thanks Dad!) When else have I ever been able to justify getting a brand new glossy-covered-hefty-coffee-table-worthy book? (:

*Yes, I didn’t write in all lowercases…