Angelfood Duels...and friendship

I return to my Women's Series: Social Observation and Comment this week with my latest edition that examines friendship between women while celebrating all the core values women of the 1950s adhered to with fierce loyalty and conviction: family, home, food and friends.

My models for such behavior and standards were my mother and her two closest friends:  Mae, who lived next door;  and Margarette, who lived across our small town.  My mother maintained a small circle of friends who had similar interests and were dedicated to making a comfortable home for their families.  My mom, Mae and Margarette also belonged to The Home Demonstration Club, or simply 'the club', as she often referred to it.  This club contained a wider circle of acquaintances, friends whose friendships she cherished, but Mae and Margarette were her true 'sisters of choice'.  They all looked forward to club day and the choice goodie they might share.  Without exception, each one of these Ladies of the Club was quite adept in the kitchen!

Ladies of the Club II

My mother and her two best buds have all passed from this life now, but memories keep them alive and well...and as very real to me now as they were in my life then.  Both served as my surrogate mother from time to time, filling that role as naturally as breathing whenever my mother was away, or otherwise occupied.

Mae lived next door to us on Jefferson Street.  She was the first person to reach out to my mother when she and my dad moved to Jefferson County in 1940, getting her involved in the local women's grassroots war effort.  The friendship grew, and they really bonded when my parents moved out of Atreco company housing to right next door.

In the 1950s, people 'neighbored'!  Mae's husband built a gate in the fence so the two women could easily visit.  I can still hear the melodious clank of the gate swinging shut numerous times during each day as one of them passed through to share a cup of tea.

Mae was a tall Scotswoman who wore her moon-gold hair, once red, long and coiled upon her head.  She was a very imposing figure and had a matching personality.  Her only son had been aboard a Texaco tanker that was torpedoed off the coast of South America in the early days of the war.  My mother's children helped fill the gap in her life.  When she retired from her job with the Chamber of Commerce, she took a course to become a professional caterer, and learned the fine art of cake decorating.

Always experimenting, Mae would try out her latest cake design on my birthday cake.  As a result, I had elaborately decorated cakes at my party each summer.  This tradition began when I was 7 and continued through high school.  Sometime around the age of 10, I became fascinated with doll cakes.  An angelfood cake lent itself well to create the skirt because of the pan shape.  Thus the real Angelfood Duel began.

My mother took great pride in her angelfood cake that was as light as a feather and truly tasted like 'bread of heaven'.  Mae's sole intent was a cake strong enough to hold up what seemed like pounds of frosting!  These two dear friends competed relentlessly with their angelfood cakes.  The cakes were a true study in contrasts:  one light and airy, one tough and sturdy.

My mother contended that Mae baked hers in too hot an oven, thereby ruining an otherwise good cake.  Mae told me more than once that my mother's cake was sorry because it would not hold up a thing!

These 'sisters of choice' would bicker with strong conviction over the criteria for a good angelfood cake.  Neither would give an inch, and the contest was on!  Neither ever conceded on this point.

My painting, Angelfood Duels, celebrates the love and friendship shared across the back fence in a simpler time, when real people took the time to be involved in each other's lives, and practiced the fine art of neighboring.  Their lives were filled with resolve and a competitive spirit as well as a fine sense of loyalty.  Consummate bakers each, they competed relentlessly, certain that their cake was the best!  I became the observer of this match of wills, and the beneficiary of a beautiful cake to show my friends...and a tasty one to share as well.  Lucky, lucky me!  Margarette, an equally consummate baker, chose to stay out of the fray.  Smart woman!

Times have changed.  Life is not so readily shared over the back fence any longer, nor do most women have the time to perfect their baking skills...and of course, there are present-day worries about calories, etc.  Angelfood Duels celebrates all these things and the women in my life who made it possible...Mother, Mae and, of course, Margarette.  All of these women had a significant place in my life and I am truly richer for their love and caring.

Angelfood Duels

Art is no different.  Unless you are passionate and committed to your work and to the unique path that is your journey, you won't begin to know or realize all that you still need to learn.

If we aspire to be an artist -- a greatly skilled, perceptive and enlightened, thinking artist -- it is a lifelong journey that only starts with learning and practicing the basics.  Doing that is truly just the beginning.  The journey continues from there.  Being an artist is an interdependent marriage of skill and inspiration that, coupled with a message to share, allows one, as an artist, to find his / her voice and go forth.  When we have confidence in our basic skills, the fun of painting is at hand, along with the more difficult aspect of finding and learning all the things that we don't know.

This is where the hard part starts.

Making a habit of practice, very deliberate practice, of what you have learned, going back to the white paper and putting it down with ease and confidence while reaching into the innermost core of who you are, in order to interpret what you see and feel with an artist's eye, is essential.  You are the only one who can create the work that abides within you.  The artist that lives within us must find that creative spirit, and, with a unique voice, share that artistic vision with the world.  Like the women of the Angelfood Duels, you must be loyal to the standard of producing a quality product, and convinced that your work is certainly the best and can stand the test of your audience's scrutiny, admiration and criticism.

Too Many Choices...?

About 5 years ago, I spent Thanksgiving with my lifetime best friend and her family out in California.  Her daughter is an actress / singer / dancer / director / writer in musical theatre.  Immensely talented, but not one to ever rest on her laurels, she gave me my current mantra for life and living:  Be bold and be brave!

It became my New Year's motto the following January and I have returned to it often in the ensuing years.  It is not easy to live up to its full meaning!  I will admit it has inspired me when I felt tired and totally un-inspired.  Just thinking about the words has managed to push me out of my comfort zone over the years, to try to do things that I would have been satisfied to watch others do, once upon a time.  As a result, I find myself challenging complacency in myself and in others on a regular basis.  I often find that I want more for other folks than they want for themselves.  I cannot have much effect on them, but I can control my thoughts, my actions, and in most cases my responses to the stimuli in my world.

In an effort to do more creatively, and to have the time, I gave up television 3 years ago, reclaiming the mindless hours I had spent watching the few shows that I followed.  I was surprised to learn that I didn't miss TV.  My daughter had done the same thing when she cancelled cable the year before.  I was amazed at the time.  When I thought about it, I had to ask myself, 'Why not?'  It has been an amazing experience to have the 3-to-4 additional hours every evening to spend doing something constructive...pushing myself, risking and learning.  Whether I read, paint, crochet or sew, I love the fact that I have something tangible to show for the hours.

I have written about creativity in this blog many times.  I am a firm believer that we all have a solid reservoir of creativity that is just waiting to be tapped.  Sometimes...actually, many times...when I have worked with adults who desire to get in touch with their own creativity, I have found that it takes digging down deep inside oneself to let it out.  Betsy Dillard Stroud, a well-known abstract painter, summed it up very well when she stated, 'To be creative, you simply open a door, the door of the subconscious mind, and allow thoughts and images to emerge unedited.'  Frankly, this is much easier said than done.

Several posts previously, I talked about painting with a brayer instead of a traditional brush or paint knife.  I've employed this method for the past few years, and have found it very satisfying.  Lately, I have wanted to take it to another level, but wasn't sure how to do so.  Inspiration often comes from doing mundane tasks, such as cleaning out closets or drawers.  About a month ago, I was organizing the contents of some storage bins in my studio space and came across several linoleum blocks that I had carved to fulfill an experimental process.  I had worked a pattern into their surface, used them, and then put them away.  I had forgotten the interesting patterns that I had achieved with a mono print of their painted surface on a blank piece of paper.  I set them aside, thinking I would use them once more.

A week or so later, when I was on just such a quest to personally satisfy my need to risk something and experiment a bit, I decided to play around with the blocks.  I prepared a limited palette of acrylic paints, placing them in containers that would keep out the air, so I would have the luxury of using them over an extended period of time (normally, acrylic paint dries very fast!).

Deciding to work small, I used pre-cut watercolor paper cards, 3 1/2" X 4 1/2", of various weights.  Using a brayer to roll on thin layers of dark pigments, I managed to create a variety of textured patterns.  I followed up with rust, gold, and, in some cases, a teal green.  I used the same colors repeatedly on about 50 cards, establishing different patterns of form and color.  Some of these images were left as is, as they had a sense of near completeness.  Minor additions of color, and on some a sandstone-block-printed Chinese character in traditional red, was all they needed to reach the finished stage...

Because I had done many small works with this process, I had enough to allow me to experiment further.  After this paint application had dried, I painted the surface of the linoleum blocks with light pigments diluted with gloss medium, printing them by hand, pressing the block directly onto the small pieces of watercolor paper.  I rubbed the back side of the paper vigorously and evenly to ensure a transfer of paint in the pattern of the carved block.  Here are 9 examples of the variety of pattern is achieved with this simple method...

Several very pleasing designs emerged.  The block prints looked very much like the wax-resistant patterns of batik fabric.  I found this experiment most satisfying,  Taking the idea further, I added more colors and began to do all types of print and texture combinations.  I felt compelled, and literally could not stop experimenting!  Thus, some 30-odd tiny works of art were conceived and borne to fruition.  They are simply named Brayer Batiks.  I later varnished them to further enhance the various layers of color.  After they dried, I was very excited about the way they looked, and went so far as to imagine what they might look like as a repeated pattern in fabric.

I also love playing around with collage.  Collage means simply glued paper.  If the paper is also painted, it can add greater dimension to a finished work.  With a few, I continued experimenting, added portions of painted watercolor paper to add interest, a focal point or texture.  There are a few examples...

I was having entirely too much fun to stop!  I began to imagine what it might look like if I went larger using similar techniques.  I took it up a notch and worked on a larger ground surface, literally going through the same process on a 22" X 30" piece of Arches CP 140# rough watercolor paper.  From the beginning, I felt the results were mixed.  My brayer ground painting was colorful, but of more mid-tones rather than darker darks...

I made the first layer of pattern from the block dark, seeking contrast.  Not really satisfied with the look, I went in an opposite direction and applied the gloss medium thinned white.  The size of the block was problematic with the larger ground.  The initial application seemed to 'float'.  I added more individual prints, until I had an established pattern of printed images, a type of asymmetry, yet with a sense of balanced form.  I didn't have anything specific in mind when I set out, but an abstracted Log Cabin quilt pattern definitely wasn't the intention.

What did I learn?  I learned that it is easier to set up a pleasing composition of design elements of a smaller picture plane.  Some designs do not become more successful on a larger scale.  I learned that it is much more difficult to print a small block on a large surface and get an even transfer of paint in order to create the desired pattern.  I learned that it is risky to take a concept to a larger scale without losing some of the pleasing qualities that existed when it was smaller.  Most importantly, I learned that one can literally have too many choices!  No matter what we do, how well something turns our, or how poorly...it is the lesson that we must not lose!

This, the name for the piece...Too Many Choices.

Would I do it again?  You bet!  I have never wanted to be predictable or stuck in a particular style or genre of painting.  It is probably one of the reasons that I paint in several genres, bouncing between them, wanting to express myself in different ways, depending on how I feel or what is inspiring at a particular time or place.  An artist has to decide whether they are an outcome painter or a process painter.  I am definitely a process painter, as it's all about the journey.

Not desiring to be known for a particular look that some would call a style identifies my creative work in some respects.  This can be seen as a plus or a curse, depending on your point of view.  One could say I have no style.  To me, that is a compliment.  I like the idea of an independent, one-of-a-kind visual expression that makes a piece of paper with paint on it art, and no just a stylistic rendering.  Getting to the point of innovative, original expression is another matter.  It is one of the reasons I return to blank white paper again and again.

There is one element that is present in all of my creative endeavors: color.  However, there are other times when I seek the quiet, subtle nuance of a hue to express emotion, mood and light.  The small works depicted in this post are examples of 'tonal' paintings.  Daylight allows the full spectrum of dark, nuanced color to be viewed and enjoyed at its fullest.

When I use color with joy and abandonment, or with finely tuned, subtle nuance, I come closer to finding my place, self-actualizing, being bold and brave, risking the success of a creative piece as I push myself and experiment.  To me, that's when my creative effort is worth rubies...and all the time, expense and trouble!

Convergence and random thoughts

Back in the spring, I was given three rolls of decorative Japanese paper tape from etsy (If you've never visited, you should have a look -- they have a great variety of wonderful handcrafted items).  I was very excited about the tape's potential, although not really sure what I would do with it.  Initially, I used a green, tan and cream roll to create a grid on a painted canvas that evolved into a collage.  The other two rolls had to wait their turn.
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When I began this painting, I had no end in mind, just felt like splashing paint and creating layered colors and texture.  As you can see at the end of phase 1, I had a ground painting that had lots of layered color, no focal point to speak of, and not much else.  The only thing that could be considered a focal point would be the atom-like figure in the bottom right corner, which didn't do much for me.

Convergence, phase 1

After looking at it for several days, I decided to get out the pink, blue, red and cream roll of Japanese paper tape, and proceeded to create a grid.  Then, I painted in the kanji character for 'love' over the top of the atom.  I needed to simplify the negative space around the kanji in order to help it have a place of greater prominence within the picture plane.  I created a simplified background by diluting white with gloss medium.  This allowed the colors beneath to give the white additional luminosity, which I further enhanced with rose and gold.  I set it aside and made a small thumbnail sketch of the painting, with which I then experimented, using pencil to create additional lines.  I decided, at that point, that what was missing was curved linear elements, which I added with a black Sharpie pen.  This further broke up the picture plane and gave birth to the visual idea of a journey.  I painted the curved lines with black gesso mixed with gloss medium.  Again, I set it aside to contemplate its content.  I decided to further break up the picture plane, and placed a number of lighter, thinner loops, in grey, symbolizing the side trips that often distract us from our path of purpose.  These thoughts took form while listening to Iris Dement's song 'When my mornin' comes around', from her album The way I should (see below for the lyrics, and a link to the song).

Convergence

This painting celebrates the powerful emotions present, but often hidden from our view and understanding, as we move through life. Of these emotions, love, next to anger and mistrust, is often one of the strongest.  Love -- the convergence of two souls -- comes in many forms and 'packages'.  We all search for it, long for it and yet when it is present, we often look right past it, perceiving it as something all together different.  It's very important to be 'present in the moment'...every moment...lest we overlook the gifts that are right before our eyes.

Click here to listen to Iris Dement sing 'When my mornin' comes around'.  Like so many of her songs, it speaks from the depths of the heart about strength and self-renewal.  I find it hauntingly beauiful and inspiring...and I hope you will, too.

When my mornin' comes around

When my mornin' comes around, no one else will be there,
and I won't have to worry about what I'm supposed to say,
and I alone will know that I climbed that great big mountain,
and that's all that will matter when my mornin' comes around.

When my mornin' comes around, I will look back on this valley,
at these sidewalks and alleys where I lingered for so long,
and this place where I now live will burn to ash and cinder,
like some ghost I won't remember, when my mornin' comes around.

When my mornin' comes around, from a new cup I'll be drinkin',
and for once I won't be thinkin' that there's somethin' wrong with me,
and I'll wake up to find that my faults have been forgiven,
and that's when I'll start livin' - when my mornin' comes around.

- Iris Dement
(c)1996, Songs of Iris