Author Archives: ehwfram

About ehwfram

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

Flipping Pages

I love all the reading lists that surface from various sources throughout December. It’s been a happy and productive reading year for me too, so I’m joining the crowd and sharing my top picks from 2019. Some are art-y, a few are business/tech-related, and the rest are just good, solid stories for the dark evenings ahead.

But before we get started, a bit of housekeeping…

For those of you who are also signed up to receive my periodic newsletter, I understand some may have mistaken the year-end issue (sent out several days ago) for this week’s blog post, creating confusion as to why Eye of the Needle came out early. So much for “branding” and trying to keep the look of my various missives on point! In the future I think I will probably change the banner at the top of the newsletter to avoid confusion. Please keep in mind that the newsletter will only appear 3 to 4 times a year, so if you’re interested in short, specific announcements with additional tidbits, please subscribe here.

The other announcement I have to share is that after much thought this past month, I have decided to cut back to posting Eye of the Needle every other week. Going forward, I hope that approach will keep it fresh for both you and for me.

Okay, on to the books! Let me know if any of the below become a favorite for you in 2020. And I’m always eager to hear what books you loved last year.

Old In Art School: A Memoir of Starting Over

Old in Art School, Nell Painter. A memoir by a lauded historian who decided to go to art school at the age of 64. A wonderful exploration of her experiences as she achieves her BFA & MFA.

Devotion (Why I Write)

Devotion, Patti Smith. A haunting tale of obsession and a glimpse into Patti Smith’s writing process. It’s a wonderful follow up to Painter’s book.
(If you’d like to know more, these first two books resonated so strongly with me that I wrote a mini book report about them last January.)

The One-in-a-Million Boy

The One-in-a-Million Boy, Monica Wood. A tale of unlikely, yet deep friendship and discovery between a Boy Scout (and eventually his parents) and 104 year old Ona Vickuss.

Plainsong

Plainsong, Kent Haruf. The story of a pregnant girl, a lonely teacher, a pair of boys abandoned by their mother, and two crusty bachelor farmers — all healing their wounds and finding community in each other.

Pitch Perfect: How to Say It Right the First Time, Every Time Hardcover – April 1, 2014

Pitch Perfect : how to Say it Right the First Time, Every Time, Bill McGowan. Tips and pointers on how to give the best presentations and responses in all manner of situations. If, like me, public speaking doesn’t come easily for you, this book is a wonder that will give you the confidence to do a good job – and even enjoy the process.

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Handywoman, Kate Davies. How Davies found recovery and revelation in knitting, design, and community after suffering a stroke at age 36. I wrote about this one too.

Beartown: A Novel

Beartown, Fredrik Backman. A wonderful, beautifully written, character-driven book! Gut-wrenching, and at times humorous, it speaks to the good and bad of human nature. Especially resonant in the regard to the Kavanaugh hearings. Probably one of my all-time favorites.

Harry's Trees: A Novel

Harry’s Trees, Jon Cohen. This one had a big build-up from one of my favorite podcasts What Should I Read Next, & it didn’t disappoint. Great story, well-paced. Perfect read when looking to get lost but not necessarily escape.

Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World

Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World, Cal Newport. A roadmap for being released from screens and to regaining power over our time and attention.

[By Sarah Winman ] Tin Man: A Novel (Hardcover)【2018】 by Sarah Winman (Author) (Hardcover)

Tin Man, Sarah Winman. Beautiful and sparse. Emotionally true through place and circumstance. A tale of souls holding each other up, each finding refuge in the other. It details separation and togetherness, and the power of place to heal.

The Hate U Give

The Hate U Give, Angie Thomas. Perhaps you saw the movie? Even if you did, consider revisiting this – especially the audio version. A mere moment changes protagonist Star Carter’s life forever. Such an important read. Narrator: Bahni Turpin was fantastic!

Talent is Overrated: What Really Separates World-Class Performers from Everybody Else

Talent is Overrated, Geoff Colvin. A study of first-rate achievers, highlighting that passionate effort is the powerful ingredient behind great success, and how “deliberate practice”, more than talent, figures into the equation.

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, Mark Manson. One of the wisest books I’ve ever read – packed with a fabulous perspective on dealing with life. Applicable on many levels. Truly terrific.

Seasoned in Vermont

Seasoned in Vermont, Marguerite Hurrey Wolf. I found this at the library book sale and it’s a keeper. A pleasant, gentle recap of the months and seasons of a Vermont year within the author’s life. Conveys a wonderful sense of place that anyone who lives here will recognize.

See you in two weeks!

Looking Forward

There’s something reassuring in the artificial markers of Labor Day and New Year’s Day. While in reality nothing really changes, I think it’s both hopeful and invigorating to feel as though a fresh page has been turned.

The cusp of 2020 offers a sense of liberation in looking forward, in imagining possibilities that lie ahead, and in letting go just enough to let the unexpected unfold.

My June 2018 post Welcoming Possibility speaks to the idea that being open to unplanned hurdles and riding out their change of direction often yields a better result than if everything had proceeded as originally planned.
Here’s hoping you find that strategy works for you too.

Happy New Year!

Second Time Around

Considering all the disfunction in Washington and its impact on our relationships abroad, it’s heartening to know that there are elements of our government that are concentrating on supporting positivity. Art is a link that bridges divides between cultures while also celebrating their similarities. The US State Department’s Art in Embassies program is an entity that works successfully toward just that end.

A couple of weeks ago I received the very welcome honor/request that I loan another of my pieces through Art in Embassies, this time to Patrick Murphy, the new US ambassador to Cambodia. The piece he chose will hang within his residence for the length of his tour in Phnom Penh. It was an added delight when the curator shared with me that Ambassador Murphy is a Vermonter and wanted to showcase artists from his home state.

My previous post The Universal Language, touches on the idea of art as a means of bringing countries together. If you’re looking for some uplifting holiday down-time, follow the links within it to the PBS series Craft in America which has two fabulous episodes you can stream online, highlighting the ongoing cultural exchange between the US and Mexico. The post also shares further information about the Art in Embassies program, an opportunity I would encourage all US artists to explore.

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And speaking of Craft in America, if you’re a shibori fan, tune in on December 27th (check your local PBS listings) to see Judith Content discuss her work in the episode Craft in America: Quilts.

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!

Clearing The Decks

When I look back through the last 5 years of December posts, I can see a slow progression toward coming to grips with the fact that, due to all the extra chores surrounding the holidays, this has evolved into a month of reflection, reassessment, and planning ahead rather than business-as-usual production. And maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.
My 2017 post Don’t Forget to Check Your Rearview is a jumping-off point for how you might do the same.

Before

After weeks of juggling various projects, I finally devoted a full day last weekend to clearing the decks throughout my studio — a big job, but one that will help this coming January get off to an efficient start. It wasn’t until after I’d had my purge-and-organize session that I discovered Alyson Stanfield’s lastest Art Biz podcast with Fiona Valentine: 5 Simple Steps to an Organized Studio. If a studio clear-out is coming up on your calendar, give this a listen, keeping in mind Fiona’s counsel that a messy studio costs you time, money and productivity.

After

It may not look it, but this is an “after” shot too.

Value(able) Lesson

Important lesson from this week: color is flexible, but value needs to remain constant.

Problem:
How to convey two objects that are the same color, ostensibly sitting under the same light source, but depicted on backgrounds that are entirely different from each other in both color and saturation.
The best answer seems to lie in value. Look closely at the similarities and differences of these two knights to see what I mean. The highlight color is constant, but the shadow colors are not: shades of mauve and purple in the knight facing right, slate blue and navy in the knight facing left. Yet the overall impression of both is the same.

My January 2016 post, Benefiting from the Basics, points out how trimming back to thinking only in terms of value (while painting a monochromatic watercolor sketch) revealed an unexpected and beneficial parallel with my textile work, one that I continue to think about and use today.

As Carol Marine says in Chapter 4 of her book Daily Painting, “If you have the values down, the world will be your oyster”.

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Ok, I admit it, this is more than just a link to an archived post. Old habits die hard, but it’s a start. The good news is that I saved hours this week, all of which have been devoted to stitching (and making discoveries about value).

5 Candles

I’m trying to wrap my brain around the fact that this marks my 260th post and the close of five years of faithfully writing and posting to Eye of the Needle every single week since November 29, 2014. A huge shoutout to my son who encouraged me to take the leap; I’m not sure I would have ventured into the blogosphere without his gentle nudge.

If you’ve ever toyed with the idea of starting a blog about your art, or even some sort of writing practice, consider these benefits:

Practicing anything leads to improvement, and writing regularly has taught me an immeasurable amount about expressing my ideas — both on paper and verbally. And perhaps even more importantly, it has helped me appreciate ruthless editing.
Those who tout the advantages of writing about one’s art aren’t kidding — it really does improve the ability to pin down and coherently articulate your process and the ideas behind your work. This is key when talking to others, especially if what you make isn’t as readily understood as the art of an oil painter or a stone sculptor.
Writing impels one to structure and organize a thesis, a potentially tall order for those of us who think visually. Writing helps solidify the bigger picture (idea) behind your art, making the tricky decisions about which direction to take next, if not clear, much easier.
Without this blog I wouldn’t have discovered a fraction of the interesting artists, books, articles, and general information about art that I share. My research has led to a feeling of connection with the art world and its larger community.
Eye of the Needle has also created a sense of personal camaraderie. Your comments are always welcome and much appreciated. I thoroughly enjoy reading/hearing about your experiences and recommendations.
And finally, I never dreamed how much I would enjoy the process of writing (and rewriting) itself. Reading what writers say about their own art helpfully overlaps with other creative processes. Books like Stephen King’s On Writing, Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird, and Eric Maisel’s A Writer’s Paris have provided info and ideas that have bled across disciplines into my own practice.

But (isn’t there always a but?) that said, I have had to come to grips with the huge amount of time (on average 8 hours per week) this commitment demands. I’d like to spend more hours drawing and on my textile work, neither of which could be considered particularly “speedy” activities. So I’ve decided to make some gentle changes. The transition will be a work in progress; please bear with me.

I am going to take the month of December off from writing but will still be uploading links to one post from my archives each week. If you’re anything like me, it may be as though you’re reading it for the first time. 😊 I will still leave the door open to the possibility of sharing information I may come across in my reading that I think might be of interest or of help to you.
All of which means you will still be getting your regular Friday email from me.

©Elizabeth Fram Next step: planning how to attack to smaller pieces flanking the queen while balancing all with the other side. It looks a little wonky now, but we’ll see what happens.

When January rolls around, I’m hoping to have a clearer idea of how to proceed. It’s likely I will trim back to 2 written posts per month, while keeping you abreast of my drawings and textile work as they unfold. We’ll see.

As I post this on Thanksgiving Day, it seems particularly appropriate to say thanks so much for being here up to this point, and I hope you will stick with me as Eye of the Needle moves forward.

Downeast Alchemist

Don’t you love it when you come across the unexpected?

When visiting the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland, Maine last month, the last gallery I walked through held a wonderful surprise. As something of a temple to Maine art, artists, and the state itself, the Farnsworth is filled with works that express a love for the landscape, seascapes, people, and industry that make Maine the special place it is. For the most part, I would say the collection spans the early 19th century to the late 20th. In such a relatively traditional environment, happening upon Brian White’s piece Rose Arbor / Sea Street was a refreshing anomaly.

Rose Arbor / Sea Street, Brian White, 2006, Welded copper tubing, shells, Gaufrage velvet

Unquestionably, White’s piece is a confection; a dress formed of metal, covered in roses and leaves that one soon realizes are made of thousands of tiny shells. The work communicates beauty and strength, two characteristics that one might also associate with Maine. I tend to be attracted to work where the materials don’t necessarily jive with what is being portrayed, thus nudging the imagination via unexpected parallels. Take a look at Fraser Smith’s wood carved “textiles” for another example of this approach.

The gallery card adjacent to the work says of White: “his distinctive body of work reflects his sensitivity to materials and at the same time pays homage to the memory of people and events past and present, often referencing the sea”. I searched for more information on him and discovered very little. But check out John Ames “Frog Pond Journal” blog and the Peabody Essex Museum site to see others of his imaginative pieces and to gain a glimpse into White’s world.

Rose Arbor / Sea Street, detail

Having grown up on the Maine coast and logged my fair share of solitary hours on a rocky beach, I found depths to this piece beyond the obvious use of unexpected found materials. It shot me back through time, allowing me to indulge memories of childhood imaginary worlds created out of tide pool treasures and detritus washed up on the shore. What a gift of connection that is.

Read Paula Crown’s article Thinking Like an Artist – Translating Ideas into Form while keeping White’s work in the back of your mind as context. Both left me with an appreciation of the broad alchemy of art-making and how it shapes our world.

Living Color

If you had to choose one thing to work on for the next 6 months to a year, what would it be?

I’m still chipping away at my 2019 goal to incorporate more color in my life drawings.
Generally, what I think most about when drawing is line, so I’ve been using hatching to follow through on that plan. However, the more drawings I get under my belt, the more I see a glimmer of where further practice may lead.

The following quote pretty well encapsulates what pulls me into any drawing in the first place while outlining a worthy quality to strive for in 2020.

A line is a visual trail of energy that has been drawn across a surface, and is a manifestation of the life energy of the person that made it. ~Mick Maslen*

Rather than switching gears next year, I’m planning to build on the steps I’ve taken so far, while also working toward stronger color and deeper values. My experimentation with varying papers has shown me how much they contribute to the crispness and clarity of both line and color.

*I was interested in learning more about Mick Maslen since I wasn’t at all familiar with his name. Turns out he is a UK artist who taught drawing and painting for many years before retiring from teaching in 2008.

Through the wonder of the internet, I also learned he was a contributor to The Guardian newspaper’s 2009 Free Guide to Drawing, a treasure trove of interviews and tutorials with leading contemporary artists. Check it out! He, together with Jack Southern, wrote the book The Drawing Projects: An Exploration of the Language of Drawing, a major publication on contemporary drawing practice and theory. Boy, would I love to get my hands on a copy of that (!) – but an extensive search revealed it seems to be either out of stock or available at a too steep price. I will have to keep my eyes peeled for a copy in used bookstores — which may be a challenge outside the UK.

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If you’re interested in using learning more about colored pencils, this is a good place to start. The number of options may make your head spin, but it’s worth wading through the info to see what’s best for you.

Caran D'Ache Pablo

I started out with Prismacolor Verithin because I was drawing on vellum and wanted a pencil that was hard and would keep a strong point. But their colors are limited, and since I was moving to other surfaces, I bought a set of Caran D’Ache Pablo which are reasonably priced while giving me the most bang-for-my-buck, color-wise. The Caran D’Ache are much creamier and blend well, allowing for a strong build-up of color. The Verithin are best for seeing individual lines as you layer colors over each other, so I tend to use them in my life drawings where I want to see the hatching. They each react differently depending on the paper used, so lots of experimentation is worth the time.

Verithin

Last Hurrah of Color

One of the perks of living in a rural state is the beauty of the open land one passes on the way to pretty much everywhere.

Blueberry leaves in the fall are glorious – as these few stragglers attest

Each season lends its voice to the ever-changing flora, with color combinations that are sometimes prominent, sometimes subtle, but always there to enjoy. The sight of a well-known field as it reliably cycles through the year’s seasons is a both a source of comfort and of inspiration.

The azaleas also outdid themselves this year

Driving the back roads through the Northeast Kingdom to the Canadian border last week was a chance to enjoy the final gasp of what has been a gorgeous Vermont fall. Of particular note were the deep russet and rust hues interlaced between the ochres and dark umbers of the grasses and foliage in the marshes and bogs we passed, their impact heightened by the gloomily overcast skies. As various plants decline toward winter their colors differentiate, allowing their individual shapes to show in a way that isn’t visible amidst the lush blend of summer’s myriad shades of green.

This shrub is a voracious creeper that requires constant and merciless pruning. But all is forgiven when it puts on this stunning ombre display.

There wasn’t time to stop to take photos, but after getting home, I circled our yard to record the last legs of our own foliage. And good thing I did; strong winds and rain over the following 24 hours swept down the last of the leaves. For one final afternoon though, the striking color took my breath away.

The sight of crabapples and winterberry ease the transition when leaves drop

Not being a landscape artist, it’s hard to gauge how these impressions will surface in my work, but I know that somehow they will. It’s part of the wonderful, ongoing homework of making art. Paying attention to the colors that surround us, gleaning what we can in order to reinterpret them in a meaningful and personal way, is one of the many privileges of what we do and a major component of what attracts me to the work of others. The paintings below, seen recently at The Farnsworth Museum in Rockland, Maine, are a perfect example.

Six Cows At Lincolnville, Lois Dodd, 1961, Oil on canvas

Untitled (View from the Ruohomaa homestead on Dodge’s Mountain), Kosti Ruohomaa, 1935, Oil on panel.

To frame this idea from another perspective, consider color not necessarily as subject, but from the angle of its impact on us as a backdrop. Research abounds on how wall color affects mood and behavior in prisons, schools, and hospitals; it is certainly true of our outward surroundings as well. Museums and galleries play on this theory too — the variety of colors that grace their walls add immeasurably, although perhaps subconsciously, to the way one sees and experiences the art on display. Is that not also true of our outdoor environment and its effect on us? What better reason to celebrate a field sporting its last hurrah of color on a grey and drizzly morning than for witnessing its inherent beauty and the way the sight of it flavors the rest of our day as we move forward.

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I found a couple of interesting articles about the thought that goes on behind the scenes in choosing wall colors to enhance an exhibition, thereby heightening the viewers’ experience. In one, individual curators talk about what inspires their choices, and in the other, how color designers/colorists often create new colors to best highlight the work on exhibit.

©2019 Elizabeth Fram, 18×24 inches, Graphite and colored pencil on paper Perhaps resurfacing more quickly than I would have thought — reds and golds in a quick study from life drawing earlier this week.

And for those interested in getting even further in the weeds on this subject, enjoy this fascinating article from the Metropolitan Museum on “Color and Light in the Museum Environment”.

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One final note and announcement:
At the end of this month, I am going to be making a bit of a change with this blog in order to reclaim some much-needed time for other areas of my practice. It won’t be disappearing entirely by any stretch, but it will begin to transform. I’ll let you know more at the end of November. In the meantime, I am ever so grateful for your ongoing interest and support, and I hope you will stay with me and keep reading as Eye of the Needle moves forward to its next chapter.

Persicaria

Making It Work

There has been so much to write about in the past weeks that I’m just now realizing it was all the way back on September 19th that I last made any reference to the piece that is currently in the works. Time to bring you up to speed.

Progressing from bottom to top

The various issues that were dogging me in the beginning have since ironed themselves out, so I’m at the point now where it’s more a matter of putting in the time to get the piece done. I will undoubtably be circling back to polish up this first side, but for now I’m roughly halfway to the finish line and hope that the piece as a whole will progress more quickly. But that said, hand-stitching is not speedy work.

I’ve used this stitch a fair amount. I like the way it fills a space without letting it become too static. For another example, look at my banner photo above.

As is often the case, fortuitous discoveries tend to develop out of necessity, and this piece is no exception. As I was methodically stitching the main figure of the chess king, it didn’t take long to realize that I wouldn’t have enough of the colors I’d chosen to complete the checkerboard pattern within it. Whenever my work is going smoothly and I’m on a roll, I really hate interrupting the process to go out for more supplies. Therefore, I’m much more likely to search for (in the words of Project Runway’s Tim Gunn) a “make it work” solution that will allow me to keep going.

Now that I’ve told you my secret about the color variety in this central figure, don’t be surprised if you see me using the same device again.

So what you’re seeing above are the results of that hiccup. Rather than just the two thread colors originally planned, I’ve used a variety of six. And frankly, I think doing so has brought life into the figure that would have been missing otherwise.

Onward and upward — the queen will soon be appearing within the blue arch.

You can’t arrange for these kinds of issues / solutions ahead of time, but they do seem to regularly present themselves. Invariably that’s a good thing. To a large extent that explains why I try not to plan a piece too far in advance or to be too married to a particular outcome. Kismet is often much smarter than I am.

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Words to live by:
I just started reading Carol Marine’s Daily Painting. Although I haven’t gotten very far into it, I like it very much so far. In Chapter One she talks about writing a letter to portrait artist Michael Shane Neal for advice. He wrote her back with a lot of helpful information, but finished the letter with what Marine characterizes as the best advice she’d ever receive.

“The best way to improve your skills is to do some kind of art every single day.”