Author Archives: ehwfram

About ehwfram

I am an artist living in Vermont, inspired by the day-to-day details of life.

Words to Work By

I don’t have a whole lot to write about in this post since I’ve been busy pulling together my 3-times-a-year newsletter, which will go out early next week. I know a lot of you subscribe to both lists, so I’d like to spare you too much overlap. If you’re not a subscriber, you can sign up here.

Meanwhile, the one newsletter I consistently read every week is “3-2-1 Thursday“, written by James Clear (author of Atomic Habits). Each issue is comprised of 3 ideas from Clear himself, 2 quotes from others, and 1 question for readers to mull over. It’s short, sweet and, more often than not, hits a mark of some sort.

In January he threw out the following idea and it’s stayed in the back of my mind ever since:

“Nearly everything awesome takes longer than you think. Get started and don’t worry about the clock.”

Here’s a taste of what I’m working on – both are still in-process.

©2025 Elizabeth Fram, In-process I’ve been learning about knotless netting – or looping – from Lissa Hunter. She sometimes uses this technique on the baskets and vessel forms she makes. I’m exploring what will happen by using irregular tension and am thinking about incorporating it as a layer that references memory – sometimes overwhelming and, in this instance, tangled. I’m still considering how much to add to this piece.

And finally, this one from last week is now finished; title yet to be determined.

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And now for something completely joyful:

I discovered the paintings of Carl Larsson when I was in college – and was smitten with his depictions of domestic interiors and use of line with watercolor. His inclusion of houseplants and details like the turned runner and the knitting in the painting below, enchanted me.

Carl Larsson

So I was thrilled yesterday, to come across the following article* in the NYTimes which includes many photographs of the interior of the summer home where Larsson and his wife Karin lived with their eight children. If you’re familiar with Larsson’s paintings, it’s immediately apparent how faithful his renditions were. But more impressive to me now is seeing how the Larssons bucked design trends of the time, creating a home in which every room was a personal artistic expression of themselves. The colors alone are swoon-worthy.

Try to look past the potted plant to a reproduction of Karin’s weaving “The Four Elements” behind, on display in her workroom.

An added bonus was discovering Karin’s textile work, which is evident in every room. She too was a painter at the time they met, but that discipline took a backseat once she started having children. She turned to textiles as a result – not an unfamiliar story – but her sense of color and design were impeccable. Please read more about her.

*(I’m gifting the article to you, so you shouldn’t have any problem opening the link). Hopefully you can also open this link to a video of Larsson’s great-great-great granddaughter giving a light-hearted tour of the house. If not, the video is part of the article.

Enjoy!

The Dance Between Positive and Negative

4 Replies

Up until the last couple of days, winter has been tenaciously hanging on. We’re all itching to move on but, knowing how mercurial Vermont’s transition to spring can be, the studio is the one place where I can effectively make change happen.
With that in mind, here’s a peek at something new…

I have been thinking quite a bit about the sewn side of my paintings and how I might leverage passages of stitching to explore pattern and texture more extensively.

Orientation is key; rotating an image 90° or 180° shakes off automatic interpretations, allowing me to lean into abstraction. I’m still thinking about how to tackle the stitching on this one.

I’ve been cropping sections of older ink sketches, reinterpreting them by creating new compositions in watercolor that flirt with abstraction. By situating the painted elements so that they hug the edges of the frame, I’m simultaneously leaving wide swaths of space that are open for stitching.

This image is more easily identifiable, but again, rotation helps me to home in on an interaction of shapes vs a specific object.

On the one hand this creates tension between the painted and unpainted areas, while on the other hand it offers me an empty field that is ready-made to push the potential of stitching as it relates to the image as a whole.

©Elizabeth Fram I raced on the stitching so I could include this piece in today’s post, giving you a taste of what I’m working toward. But you never know how things will evolve until you’re already up to your elbows. What I didn’t expect was that leaving a large area completely free of any sort of imagery/stitching would be just right. That, and cropping the image to a square makes this piece feel complete. If one thing’s for certain, it’s that the work is just as much in the driver’s seat as I am.

Considered from another angle, I’m giving myself an opportunity to juggle between positive and negative space. Remember the old optical illusion: is it a vase or 2 profiles? That’s what I’m thinking about while at the same time limiting my palette so I can concentrate more fully on finding a balance between the two.

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Meanwhile, as I wait out our on-again / off-again snowy days I’ve been experiencing a bit of a bonanza in terms of art-related film. There’s nothing quite like art for reminding us that, despite world affairs, creativity ties us together across cultural and geographic lines.

If you aren’t already familiar with The Red Dress project, this short film will bring you up to speed. Kirstie Macleod, originator of the project, travels to Mexico to connect with two of the many embroidery artists who contributed to the finished dress.

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Led Zeppelin drums up plenty of teenage memories for me, but I never fully understood or appreciated their sheer genius until seeing Becoming Led Zeppelin in the theater last week. OMG.

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Finally, I happened upon this last film by pure chance. You can stream it either on Kanopy or Amazon Prime. If you have any interest at all in Japanese Ukiyo-e prints, artistic collaboration, the melding of an ancient art with pop culture, or even the fine craftsmanship of Japanese tools — you will also love The Art of the Game: Ukiyo-e Heroes.

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Come take a look…

Studio Place Arts, a jewel of community and creative connection, just opened its latest group show this week. Silver Lining celebrates 25 years of SPA with a show based on the color Silver. The show runs from March 12th – April 19th.
I have two stitched portraits in the show.

Maine-ly Art

I’ve lived in eight states as an adult which, aside from the physical slog of moving house so many times, has honestly been one of the bigger privileges of my life.
Experiencing both the good, and even the less good, of a variety of communities across the country has been an awesome opportunity to stretch beyond the comfort of my Maine upbringing. All the same, being a Maine native remains a proud part of my core identity, and I’m grateful for any chance to return.

Arriving on the coast is a visceral homecoming that taps all the senses: the shifting colors of the ocean, the familiar smell of salt in the air, hearing the cries of seagulls while bracing against a brisk wind off the water, and always, always enjoying the taste of native treats from land and sea. Have you ever tried a Needham?

We were in Portland last week, experiencing all of the above, and of course lots of art as well. Visits to the Portland Museum of Art and Cove Street Arts were a mid-winter chance to refill my cultural cup to the brim. What follows are a few of the beauties that caught my eye and that I thought you might enjoy as well.

The exhibit “As We Are” at the PMA showcases 14 emerging artists, each with strong Maine ties.

Rachel Gloria Adams, Every Morning, 2024, Acrylic, corduroy, linen, cotton and wool It was delightful to see Adams’ large scale quilts upon entering this exhibit – on purple walls, no less! The vibrant variety of colored walls throughout the museum showed off the work in each gallery beautifully, adding immeasurably to my experience .

Jenny Ibsen, Top Carrot, 2024, Terracotta, underglaze and luster This is one of a series of trophies that “explores ideas of sustenance and care, labor, and play”. As a gardener (who happened to experience a top notch carrot season last year) I love Ibsen’s sense of whimsy.

Jay Stern, Past, Present, Future, 2024, Oil on Canvas I was swept away by Stern’s paintings – both in their execution and by his nod to the quotidian. In his statement, he compared them to portraiture in that they show clear evidence of human presence and experience.

Jay Stern, Past, Present, Future, detail Purely from a rendering standpoint, I found myself happily getting lost in Stern’s patchwork of color and paint.

Tessa Greene O’Brien, Posted, Cape Elizabeth, 2024, Oil, bleach, wax resist on dyed canvas I have seen plenty of O’Brien’s work on Instagram, but rarely in person. This time I had the “aha” moment of realizing her work’s close relation to batik. Her use/reference to textile techniques creates a wonderful fusion that straddles genres.

James Parker Foley, Divers Approaching Infinite Density, 2023, Oil on linen The striking color and bold imagery of this piece commands the gallery in which it is hung.

And from elsewhere in the PMA:

Newell Convers Wyeth, Georges Islands, Penobscot Bay, Maine, 1928-29, Oil on canvas Myriad artists have captured Maine in as many ways. While this was painted on Penobscot Bay, and I grew up on Casco Bay, this work portrays the essence of what I think of as “Maine”.

Gabriel Frey, Nohonul Posonutiyil Kcicihtomuwakon (Three Baskets of Wisdom) 2023, Black Ash There is visual poetry between this beautiful piece and its setting: white oak and granite flooring against the charcoal gray wall. So lovely.

Reggie Burrows Hodges, Bathers and the Cleansed, Pearl, 2021, Acrylic and pastel on canvas After first becoming acquainted with Hodges work at the Center for Maine Contemporary Art in 2022, I was happy to meet up with him again via this stunning piece.

Chantal Joffe, Jessica, 2012, Oil on linen. While there were several John Singer Sargents to enjoy on a lower floor, it was this monumental portrait (almost 8 x 6 feet) that spoke most strongly to me.

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Cove Street Arts, on the opposite side of Portland’s peninsula, is a beautiful warehouse-esque building that incorporates 4 separate gallery spaces within a greater whole, accommodating art of every scale and genre.

One view within Cove Street Arts

Michael Stasiuk, Lady With Pearls and a Red Purse Walking Her Dog, 2024, Baking pan, lemon reamer, bowling pins, old ironing board, assorted fragments. Humor and inventiveness best describe Stasiuk’s work that is oh-so-relatable and human.

Jeffrey Stevensen, Slip Between Custom House Wharf and Portland Pier, August 1982, Archival inkjet print on cotton paper. Such a beautiful moment of calm on the working waterfront.

Kathi Smith, Gull Rock, Monhegan (top), Gull Rock II, Monhegan (bottom), Oil on panel. While Stevensen’s photograph above uses black and white to best advantage, the colors of these two paintings make them sing.

Fred Lynch, Stepping Out, Watercolor on paper. I find work that skews to the abstract, while maintaining its figurative underpinnings, intriguing on numerous levels. The colors of this piece are unexpected and joyfully satisfying.

Kelly McConnell, In Out, 2022, Oil on canvas I keep coming back to this painting and wondering what it is about it that keeps grabbing my attention. The layers? the colors? the sense of space? Perhaps it’s that I somehow find it calming despite its chaos.

To have been able to see such a diverse selection of work while visiting only two venues is rather remarkable.
When I was growing up, my mother used to say in regard to Portland’s Maine Medical Center that we were beyond fortunate to have access to such great care and expertise in a relatively small and removed city. Portland has grown by leaps and bounds since then and is no longer so removed. And yet, while Maine has always attracted artists, I think Mom’s characterization could now be applied to the city’s art scene as well – it’s definitely hitting above its weight.

Steeped in Color

We’re having such a lovely, wintery winter this year.

Getting an inch or two of snow most days over the past weeks has resulted in a healthy accumulation, smoothing the rough edges of our landscape and keeping things visually subdued, restful even.

Our home is nestled between the Worcester and Green mountain ranges. Once the sun rises high enough to clear the Worcester range behind us, it shines on the Greens to our west, making for a bright start to the day.

That means there are days when the sunrise or the sunset offer our only fleeting glimpse of color in a 24 hour period, made all the more vibrant by our muted surroundings.

The sky can be just as spectacular in the early evening

Never fear, there is always plenty of color in the studio. Lately I’ve been looking at specific palette combinations, aiming to grasp why it is they appeal to me at a gut level. I figure this is the best approach for leveraging what I then learn in order to create new palettes of my own.

Zorah on the Terrace, Henri Matisse, 1912. Years ago I began clipping an assortment of visual references, often color-centric, (deposits, if you will) to fill a visual bank of spiral sketchbooks that I return to time and again for inspiration.

Right now, M. Matisse leads the way.
One might think just looking is enough, but I’m learning so much more by isolating and then trying to recreate the colors of favorite paintings and from collected resource photos, using the paints and drawing tools I have on hand.

A hasty copy of Matisse’s Zorah on the Terrace using colored pencils and Neocolor II’s helps me to understand some of the nuances of his color choices.

Making color swatches solidifies my grasp of how this particular palette can be translated with my own mixes.

Playing around with mixtures or layering colors over each other to arrive at just the right hue helps me to more intimately know the colors I already own, while – bonus! – being a restful and meditative exercise unto itself.

It’s been very helpful to keep a devoted sketchbook for saving palette mixes as I go along. Not only can I reference what I learn from master painters, but it’s an easy way to retain the various mixes I discover from my own work, including color notations about specific locales (as shown in this post). This has been a game changer for narrowing down what colors to pack before a trip.

Spirit of SPA ©2025, Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and stitching on paper, 7-1/8″ x 7″. The palette of this latest piece was meant to reflect a mid-August afternoon, which was when I took the reference photo and had a delightful visit with my model. It’s all interwoven, isn’t it? Light affects color affects time affects light.

Working on this portrait last week, I was conscious of separating the colors so they could be seen as individual strokes and marks which come together in a palette that speaks to the specifics of the time I spent with my sitter. I still have plenty to learn in order to push this idea – but at least this offers a glimpse of what I’m aiming for.

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Find of the week:
Patty Hudak’s Mokuhanga prints…stunning!

Patterns of Practice

Do you also find yourself curious about how other people approach their work – the distinctive quirks of process that they have developed for themselves?

Before the holidays, a friend gave me the huge (in both size and content) book The Work of Art: How Something Comes from Nothing by Adam Moss. At a richly illustrated 400+ pages, it’s the sort of volume one dips in and out of rather than reading all in one go. It’s perfect for easing into when you have a spare 15 or 20 minutes.

The Work of Art

Moss features more than 40 of today’s most accomplished creators — painters, writers, cartoonists, filmmakers, musicians, composers, fashion designers, chefs, etc. They share generously as he digs deeply into their various practices, sifting through their thought processes, their doubts, their constraints and, ultimately, their breakthroughs. In other words, all the things we can relate to as part of a creative practice regardless of how proficient or well-known one may be.

Artists are a diverse crowd, but a tribe all the same. Personally, I find that sense of connection tremendously uplifting as I toil away in my remote corner. With all this in mind, I was intrigued lately to, somewhat coincidentally, happen upon a Substack post entitled “Know Your Creative Cycle”, written by Mason Currey, the author of Daily Rituals: How Artists Work.

Strands of Wisdom (I’ve Seen A Lot, Not All Of It Good) ©2025 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and embroidery on paper, 8.5 x 8.5 inches This latest piece came together pretty quickly, which is the exception rather than the rule for me. My creative cycle usually involves a series of starts and stops. I get an idea and head out of the gates with a bang, but then something invariably crops up mid-stream to stop me in my tracks. Then I have to step away to figure out how to get around that stumbling block. Mostly, in-process decisions are a leap of faith which, thankfully, more times than not end up working out. That said, on-the-fly decisions directed this piece away from what I had originally planned. But the good news is, that just leaves me room to go back to my original idea in the future.

If you have a moment, try his exercise to identify how your individual practice ticks. I thought it was something of another tribal moment to discover that while the particular ups and downs of getting the work out of our heads and into the world may be somewhat different for everyone, we all have a pattern, and being aware of that pattern is power.

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For those of you who aren’t on my separate art mailing list…

Please join me and other exhibitors
this Saturday, February 1st from 4-5:30pm at Studio Place Arts
for an Artist Social celebrating

Where’s My Hat?
January 22 – March 1, 2025

Studio Place Arts
201 N. Main Street
Barre, VT 05641
802.479.7069 | info@studioplacearts.com

Scroll down on this link to preview the show

Comfort in Discomfort

I don’t know about you, but I feel a lot more at ease delving into new projects once my slate has been cleaned of older ones. December and January are usually so consumed with juggling year-end evaluations and formulating plans for the months ahead, never mind all the holiday hoo-ha, that it takes a lot effort to keep my eye on the ball and to finish up whatever was already in the works.

If Only ©2024 Elizabeth Fram and It Was a Dream ©2025, side by side. Reeling from November’s election, these two pieces were my way to address the concept of dreams that ultimately don’t pan out, and the hope that bolsters us in the face of such setbacks. Light vs dark, day vs night — reality is a full circle that necessarily encompasses both. BTW, I’m currently reading Judi Dench’s Shakespeare The Man Who Pays the Rent. So with my head in that space, I had to look to see what the Bard had to say on this subject. He never fails us: “The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together” (All’s Well That Ends Well).

In early November I began a couple of “companion” pieces. I shared the first, If Only, in my post Something to Lean On. Today I’m showing its counterpart, It Was A Dream. The two were conceived together but are meant to work either in tandem or independently – viewer’s choice.

Now that they’re both finished, I can turn my attention to whatever may be next. I’ve decided I want to carve out time in 2025 to push some of my trusty processes and techniques in ways that will hopefully open the door to different outcomes. But that said, it’s a lot easier to come up with nebulous goals than it is to succinctly outline the specific steps to getting there, so I have some serious experimenting in front of me.

And while there’s no way to know at this point what the results might look like, I guess that’s exactly the point. If I knew where I was going I doubt there would be much growth, and I feel like I’m ready for a stretch. Meanwhile, I’m keeping in mind what my favorite fitness coach says: “find comfort in discomfort”.

Carry On

Happy New Year!

My December break is over and I’m sure it won’t surprise you that removing this commitment from my plate during the busiest month of the year was revolutionary — enough so that I am planning to do it again next December. But with that said, it’s sweet to be back.

©2024 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, 14 x 12 inches. I’ve been working with watercolor during our live drawing sessions. It’s very humbling. I’ve learned from watching Portrait Artist of the Year that having a photo of the model during the session can be very helpful, if they’ll allow it. A picture on my phone allows me to zoom in on facial details – especially around the eyes – that I can’t see from 15-20 feet. Later, in the studio, having the photo gives me a shot at a second practice round, from which I often learn even more.

Before I go any further though, many thanks to those of you who sent notes in support of my pause and for expressing your hope that I would return. It meant more than you can know.

This and the following pictures follow a second attempt, this time back in the studio. Here, a quick wash maps out the general dark areas, giving me a basic structure to work from.

So now that we’ve all arrived on the fresh page of 2025, what’s up your sleeve for the year ahead? I’m sure you’ve been thinking and scheming about it.

I used a Pitt Oil-base extra soft pencil by Faber Castell to loosely rough in features. Its rich black marks are much like charcoal, yet glide on the paper and over the watercolor without any dust.

While I mull over my own future projects, most of which aren’t fully imagined yet, I’m glad to have a holdover piece to dive into post-holidays. It isn’t far enough along yet to share here now, but I’m hoping it will be finished by next time. Anyway, I wish I could remember which writer it was that coached it’s best, at the end of each day, to leave your work at least partially unfinished so that you know exactly what to do when you get back to your desk the next morning — a brilliant tip.

Adding Neocolor II’s over the previous pencil and watercolor layers, while judiciously running a wet brush over some of those marks, gives a sense of vibrancy and looseness that I quite like.

It’s a lot less intimidating after any respite to just carry on with something already in the works than it is to face the pressure of starting something completely new. And by the same token, it’s much easier to begin new work directly on the heels of finishing a previous piece, thus taking advantage of the full head of steam you already have underway. In other words, use momentum to maintain momentum.
And most importantly, keep going!

©2024 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, Oil base pencil, Neocolor II, 9.5 x 8.25 inches. The final shadow over the right side of his face makes the lighter areas pop. I’m coming to really love using Neocolors because they offer the best of all worlds: strong color, the ability to make energetic marks as well as to create a wash. Even though the original watercolor was done in situ and this one in the studio, this second drawing feels a lot more immediate and successful.

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On a completely different note: Dipping into Substack can be just as inviting as the idea of sitting down with a full box chocolates. There’s a lot of interesting and inspiring content to devour, but absolutely guilt-free. I am so happy to have found Canadian painter Harry Stooshinoff there. Love his work, love his ideas. I’ll leave you with this thought of his, which I think is a very apt way to begin the new year:

So much water under the bridge. At a certain point it doesn’t even matter if the work is good or bad. Obviously we try to make the best work, and move it in the direction we think it needs to go. It’s utterly stupid to do otherwise. But it doesn’t matter much how it is accepted, sorted, or judged. It matters only that it is made.

First Things First

Happy Thanksgiving!

But first things first…
I can barely believe that this post marks 10 years and 393 uninterrupted entries here at Eye of the Needle! I went back through my archives to reread what I had written in my very first post on November 29, 2014 and I’m happy to say that this project has been, and continues to be, exactly what I had hoped for and outlined all those years ago.

In the spirit of today’s holiday, thank you — to the many of you who have been here since Day 1, returning faithfully ever since, and just as sincerely to those of you who have joined me along the way.

With that in mind, I have an announcement:
To celebrate this anniversary, I am going to take the month of December off.
I’m looking forward to a break, as well as a chance to re-evaluate how I want to proceed going forward. There may or may not be some tweaks — we’ll see. However, this project comes down to two things:

One of the hidden truths of writing regularly about my practice is that it has helped me to better understand my artwork immeasurably, so I do not expect to stop, and
Judging from the comments you have shared with me, both here and privately, writing about my discoveries and explorations has opened the door for you to in turn fill me in on the things you have found or are doing. That sense of connection and community is exactly what I was seeking when I began and has made this endeavor so much richer.
So again, thank you.

One last thought: In episode #503 of her “Happier” podcast, Gretchen Rubin addresses an unexpected way to spark creativity which, once she mentioned it, rang very true to me. Creating a demand that has to be met, (e.g. the deadline of publishing a regular post online) fosters creativity. Maintaining this self-imposed commitment has taught me that, while admittedly some weeks may be harder than others, if one sets to work, the ideas never fail to come.

Now on to today’s post...

We celebrated the holiday early this year, in Chicago with our daughter. As is often the case, our trip included a visit to the Art Institute. This time we caught 2 exciting exhibits and had the chance to see a universal icon. Here is a quick recap.

First, the spectacular baskets of Passamaquoddy maker Jeremy Frey, were on display in the show “Woven”. His work is almost beyond belief in its complexity and innovation. We missed this exhibit at the Portland Museum of Art when we were in Maine last summer, so I’m grateful to have had a second chance to catch it.

Every step of every process in his baskets is accomplished by Frey. He thoughtfully selects and fells the trees (mostly ash), then pounds the logs with the back of an ax to separate the growth rings, splitting them into thinner sheets that he then cuts into narrow strips. He uses dyes to incorporate vibrant colors and he further embellishes basket covers by embroidering natural imagery with porcupine quills. His mastery and imagination are breathtaking.

This short video follows Frey throughout much of his process.

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Self-Portrait, Looking Left with Hand on Chin, Paula Modersohn-Becker, 1906, Oil tempera on paper mounted on cardboard

I hadn’t heard of Paula Modersohn-Becker before checking the Art Institute’s website to see what would be on display during our visit. Seeing her work in “I am Me”, I was moved by the sensitivity of her painted and, especially, her drawn portraits – mainly of herself or of other women. Considering she was only 31 when she died of a postpartum embolism, one can’t help but be awestruck by the intensity of her work, despite her relative youth. What a loss for the art world.

Farmer’s Wife, Seated, Paula Modersohn-Becker, 1899, Charcoal on paper

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Finally, Hokusai’s iconic The Great Wave is back on display for a limited period (through January 6). It was a thrill to see an original print in the flesh for the first time. Due to the gallery’s subdued, protective lighting, I didn’t even bother to take a picture, choosing instead to just stand and savor.

Under the Wave off Kanazawa, also known as The Great Wave, from the series “Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji”, Katsushika Hokusai, 1826-1836, Color woodblock print, 10 x 14-3/4 inches, image from Art Institute of Chicago website

For some fun facts, you might enjoy reading 10+ Things to Know About The Great Wave. Particularly fascinating: the impact of the work would have been entirely different for Japanese viewers who read from right to left, so likely would have viewed the print that way, as opposed to Western eyes which would have experienced the wave from left to right. Take a look with that in mind and judge for yourself.

Where else but a museum can you pack so much into a couple of hours?
That’s all for now.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving and holidays to follow; I’ll see you in January!

Something to Lean On

Dear Readers,

Well, here we are.
I’ve spent a lot of time this past week asking myself whether I should confront the elephant in the room in this post, or if it would it be more helpful to just ignore it and stick solely to art & the goings-on in my studio. As you will see if you read on, I’m going to try to straddle that line.

It’s easy to have something in mind, not always so easy to manifest it. I had expected to stitch the house but soon abandoned that process for other options.

I have no doubt that many of you are experiencing a similar range of emotions in the aftermath of Nov. 5th, and that you certainly don’t need to spend time wading through my personal reactions. However, I believe we all benefit from sharing coping mechanisms. This time around, I’m planning to lean into a valuable lesson learned during the turmoil of 2016-20, and will offer it here for you to take or leave, as you see fit.

As the materials I use continue to expand, it’s easier to get closer to what I see in my head down on paper.

One of the most reliable ways I discovered to find relief from the unrelenting angst of those years was through community and the sense of connection I found there. As one of my artist friends sagely remarked at a get-together last weekend, now is the time to strengthen our pods.

Consciously seeking out and finding commonality with others is key — and all the more so now. Believing in kindness, in civility, in respecting others despite our differences and understanding that laws are the guardrails of a civilized society should be a given. But sadly, as we know all too well, it isn’t anymore. As we look to find our way, we can only control what we can control. Now is a time, as Fred Rogers so often advised, to look for “the helpers”, people who bring light into our lives. So often that quality can be found through creative sectors.

Swatching is integral to every painting. I have a huge stack of small sheets like this which have no other purpose other than assuring the color on my brush is what I want to put on the paper. Even so, the end result is kind of lovely in its own right and I save them as a record of each piece.

With that in mind, here are a few ongoing entities and projects that bring me hope. Some of them are local and/or part of the Eye of the Needle community, and some are more ubiquitous. Wherever you live, there will surely be numerous options near you.

Museums and Galleries
Soon after the 2016 election I found solace at an exhibit of Pat Steir’s work. I wrote the following in my blog about that visit, noting the lift her paintings gave me at that particular impass. “...despite my dismal outlook at the end of a weary and unsettling week, Steir’s paintings provided a 30 minute reprieve by offering a much-needed sense of solid ground; her visual language seemingly echoing the weight of what I was feeling while simultaneously bolstering my spirits with strength, determination and certainty“. full post with images
Visit Your Local Library
Librarians are unsung heroes that are there to support everyone in a community in a multitude of ways. Books provide one of life’s best and most reliable ways to take a break – whether through learning or a period of escape.
Go to a Community Play
Paraphrasing local director Monica Callan of Moxie Productions during a recent interview in advance of the opening of her new production, Mauritius: to be in the presence of fellow community members, in the dark, experiencing a different world together is so much richer than streaming an online show on your laptop.
Take a Class
Enjoy the challenges and rewards of trying something new with others. I would love to be able to drop in on reader Kate Godfrey’s portrait embroidery classes in Berkeley, CA.
Check out and Sign up for The Americans of Conscience Checklist
This regular, non-partisan checklist of easily accomplished actions are meant to strengthen democracy and expand equality, one step at a time. It’s an easy avenue toward making your voice heard.
Bonus: they send out a monthly email of “Just Good News”, listing the many positive things that Americans are accomplishing. We could all use a dose of that, even in the best of times.
Look for Projects that Keep You Informed
Knit Democracy Together is an ongoing project created by craft-ivist Eve Jacobs-Carnahan. Eve is a former election attorney who demystifies our election systems via a form of modern-day knitting circles. Her events have expanded beyond Vermont and have been welcomed to numerous other states which appreciate and recognize the need for accurate information.

I’m sure you have plenty of your own ideas; the main thing for us to keep reminding ourselves is that we’re aren’t alone. And perhaps most importantly, as the offspring of one of my good friends said to me, with fist pumped in the air at the end of the artist talk I had just given: “Keep making art!”

Color Splurge

I splurged recently, using some of the proceeds from my Summer Stories Archival Sale to buy a deluxe set of 84 Neocolor II Aquarelle crayons.

Neocolor II

Years ago I somehow acquired a small, basic set of these crayons but never quite figured out how to feel comfortable using them. However, watching Emma Carlisle draw with them, and seeing what an integral part of her basic mixed-media kit these watercolor crayons are, I dug out my old set last spring and began to experiment.

Truthfully, I didn’t feel the love. They were sticky and just seemed clumsy and awkward. I wondered if I might have better luck with the non-soluble Neocolor I’s, so I picked up a small handful of open stock colors along with a single Beige Neocolor II at the Oakland brick and mortar Blick last May, figuring I’d give them a try.

What a difference!! – especially the Beige water soluble Neocolor II I sampled. I don’t know if Caran d”Ache changed the formula or, more likely, if surviving decades and multiple moves through various climates took a toll on my originals, but the ones I bought last spring were a completely different story. All the images in this post were created with the new Neocolor II’s I just bought.

They’re very creamy and glide going down on the page, they have fantastic coverage/opacity and the color of the Neocolor II’s can be easily moved around while becoming beautifully translucent when diluted with a watery brush. Both versions (I & II) can be layered over each other and mix well with colored pencils – although most successfully if the pencils are laid down first.
I was ready to invest.

Per usual, I spent a lot of time hemming and hawing over which set to buy – the 30? the 40? How many colors are enough and what would be too few? And then… a SALE! so I bought the set of 84 and now I’m in color heaven.

Trixie, detail. What I most enjoy about these Neocolors is they mix like paint while maintaining their drawing characteristics. Plus, the color is so rich!

Remember the thrill of opening a Crayola box that had 64 crayons and a built-in sharpener? Well, I’ve realized very happily that that’s a feeling some of us never outgrow.
…And, for a bit of election diversion this weekend, enjoy a quick peek at the history of Crayola colors – it’s pretty interesting.

✷

Speaking of the election…is anybody else feeling like this lately?

Seriously? ©2024 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and stitching on paper, 6×8 inches. I’ve been busy lately doing some preliminary work for a couple of new pieces. This figure/sketch was painted as part of that preparation. But reading about some of the unbelievable statements that have been made in the past week, this question – perhaps too mildly put – was top of mind.

There’s nothing else to say but get out there & VOTE!
See you on the other side.