Author Archives: ehwfram

About ehwfram

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

Long Winter’s Nap

“…and mama in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled down for a long winter’s nap…”

Merry Christmas!

Just the Facts

At the end of a long day one of my favorite ways to recharge is to sit on the sofa with my sketchbook, the pooch snoring beside me, and to zone out drawing whatever is right in my line of sight on the coffee table.

There is no pre-arranging or readjusting of the clutter and, unlike most of my drawings, I don’t plan around composition (although once underway I do allow myself some selective edits). In other words, there’s no sugar coating or prettying-up of these images — they are just the facts.

The subject is pretty much always the same – a mug of tea, cup of water, or can of seltzer that I was too lazy to pour into a glass, plus whatever jumble of books and magazines happen to be sprawled out across the surface. As I’m winding down for the day, this is a relaxing chance to practice without any concern for outcome.

I inherited our coffee table from my grandmother and it has graced our many living rooms for over thirty years. Of Middle Eastern origin, it’s basically a large brass tray with “pie-crust” edges and beautiful designs and characters incised onto the surface. I can’t begin to do justice interpreting those designs but, provided they aren’t completely covered with whatever we were last reading, sometimes I try to include a bit of them, finding they can potentially add another level of interest and perspective to a drawing.

The table top sits on interlocking legs that often appear at the bottom of these sketches, an element that may seem confusing if you aren’t aware of what they are. I especially like the way they create diagonals that echo the edges of the scattered books and magazines above.

Side note: This table carries emotional history as well as being pretty and practical. When our kids were learning to walk, they would grab onto the pie-crust edges and side-step their way around the perimeter. It’s a big oval with no corners, so I never had to worry about head bumps then — or once they were fully on the move. Funny how things change. I surely had no idea at that busy time of life that it would morph into a representation of relaxation!

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One last and heartening note about the practice of drawing: I was really taken with Terry Gross’ Fresh Air interview with author/artist Jonathan Santlofer a couple of weeks ago. Did you hear it? The episode surrounds Santlofer’s newly published memoir The Widower’s Notebook, and the way that drawing helped him begin to cope with the sudden and completely unexpected death of his wife. His story about drawing during that time is quite moving and, for anyone who draws regularly, I think you’ll agree it rings quite true.
I’m looking forward to getting my hands on a copy.

Gearing Up for Next Year

Now that December is underway, it’s time to take stock of the past year, reevaluate goals, and make a game plan for 2019.

This next piece is going to be a bit larger than the past several. The area within the crosses is 9 x 12 inches. While I was working on my last piece, I kept thinking about octopi and their interesting camouflage. This fellow should be a worthy candidate / subject to hide in a field of shibori pattern, don’t you think?

Last week I attended a webinar for creatives offered by Cory Huff of The Abundant Artist and productivity coach Charlie Gilkey. They packed a lot of helpful info into 90 minutes and I’m already feeling the impact of their suggestions, especially as the holiday season and its accompanying extra to-do’s begin to take hold.
Granted, there was so much to absorb that I’m still sifting through my notes, but I’d like to share two take-aways that I think are particularly noteworthy.

First, stick to a 5-project rule at any given time. Realistically, one just can’t juggle any more than five projects at once, and it is probably more achievable to concentrate on only three.

Secondly, separate your workdays into time blocks:

Focus blocks: 90-120 minutes for deep, creative work (keeping in mind that sometimes that includes staring out the window, taking a walk, or looking at work in progress as you figure out your next move). It was reassuring to hear them say that most of us can only expect to put in 4-6 hours of such focused work a day. I am mentally exhausted at the end of 4 or more hours of active drawing and/or stitching.
Social / Service blocks: 90-120 minutes for meetings, volunteer activities, visiting galleries, etc.
Administrative blocks: 30-60 minutes for attending to email, computer work, phone calls and other “backstage” chores (Facebook, Instagram, & Twitter don’t count).
Finally, and very importantly, Recovery blocks: for recharging — exercise, meals, reading, time with family and friends — whatever it is that fills you back up and staves off burnout.

The beauty of this approach is, depending on your objectives and commitments at any given time, you have total flexibility in how you divide your days and week into said blocks . The key is that structure facilitates momentum and in turn, achievement.

The pre-dye white work is time-consuming, especially considering all the little circles to embroider. I am going to be figuring this one out as I go along, but am trying to resist laying the stitch-work in too heavily before dyeing, knowing now that a lot of stitching will be necessary afterwards to bring out and define the image from the shibori pattern.

I’ll admit that I’m something of a productivity geek, so I love this stuff. Huff’s and Gilkey’s ideas were just the boost I needed to get started on the rollover from 2018’s goals to those I’ll concentrate on in 2019.

And speaking of goals, one of mine for 2018 was to pursue a source that would accept/publish a self-written article about my work and practice. Every now and then fate goes to bat for you.
Last week I received an email from the editor of HAND/EYE Magazine, asking if I would give her 500 words and 8-10 images for this week’s online publication. You bet I said yes! … and it was well-worth the focus blocks it took to get everything in order on such short notice. As a result, I didn’t get as far as I’d hoped with this current stitched piece, but that’s a trade-off I was more than willing to make . I hope you’ll read the article.

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One last thing that may be of interest: Slow Fiber Studios of Berkeley, CA is having a 10%-off holiday sale through December 31st. They carry books, videos, fiber, tools and natural dyes. Who knows what you might find!
Use the promo code: HOLIDAY.

White on White

It seems that winter has arrived at the party early this year and decided to stay.

We got well over a foot of new snow on our hill this week, bringing with it the delightful perk that the light in my studio has been perfect. This is the kind of illumination that brightly shows colors in their truest form, but I am especially appreciating it while attacking the first stage of laying in the image for a new piece with white thread. It’s ideal for giving my stitches plenty of definition against their white silk ground.

Is it any wonder that being surrounded with all this snow has set me to thinking about great works of white art? Unsurprisingly, Malevich’s 1918 painting “White on White” was the first to come to mind. Here are a few others.

Louise Nevelson made numerous white pieces. Great images on Alabama Chanin’s Journal, including the uncredited textile piece at the end of the post.
Jasper John’s 1955 White Flag
Local artist Mark Goodwin
Photographer Scott Peterman’s ice houses

Because of where we live, it’s inescapable that I will write from time to time about the snow and the impact it has on my work. I wrote in a past post that “I’ve always loved winter, so a snow-covered landscape is a welcome seasonal perk…just because. But from an artistic and working viewpoint, there is a lesson in the snow: the importance of finding a balance between maintaining a certain boldness (via composition, pattern, and texture) while remembering to get my point across as simply as possible.”

That’s something to keep in mind as I tackle this next piece.

Secret Weapon

If ever I needed a good reminder of why it’s important to have drawing materials with me at all times, it happened last week.

For years, a sketchbook has been a very trusty companion while I’ve waited…in school and store parking lots, in airports and train stations, and even for cookies to be done in the kitchen. In many instances you never know just how long you will be left hanging. But the beauty of a sketch is it can be done very quickly or, the longer you sit, stretched out into minute detail.

planes

Schiphol Airport ©2014 Elizabeth Fram The word “waiting” shows up a lot in my travel sketches. Airports are great places to try to explore the fluid shape of a plane from different angles. And ubiquitous cell phones & laptops make it easy to practice quick captures of fellow travelers.

Due to an accident on snowy roads last Friday, I sat boxed-in at the top of an off-ramp for the better part of an hour. Not wanting to turn off my engine because it was only 19º F. outside, at least I had the radio for company. But it doesn’t take long to feel pretty antsy when no one is moving and there’s no way to know what is happening or how long the snarl is going to last.

Bruce Road ©2009 Elizabeth Fram, 4.24 x 5.25 inches, Ink on paper When our house was on the market before moving to VT, appointments for house showings would invariably be set up for around dinnertime…most inconvenient when you have a ravenous teenager with a boat-load of homework to get through. We would would pile homework, food, and drawing supplies into the car and park up the street to wait where we could watch to see when they’d left.

Luckily, even though I only had a small 3.3 x 5.5 Moleskine Cahier with me, that was all I needed to get my mind off the frustration of being late for my appointment while finding myself stuck for who knew how long. There’s a lot to be said for getting lost in the world of shape and line — it’s far more interesting and productive than sitting and stewing. And to tell you the truth, it made the situation rather pleasant.

Council Rock vs Bensalem ©2006 Elizabeth Fram, 5 x 8.25 inches, Pen on paper. Over the years I spent as much time as any parent waiting for games and track meets to begin, and happily so. Occasionally lacking someone to chat with, there was usually something interesting to draw.

After about 40 minutes with no police presence to take charge, a resourceful UPS driver (thank you again, whoever you were) got us backed up and turned around, one-by-one like a sliding tile puzzle. And just like that, I was on my way.

Fall View from Shaws ©2014 Elizabeth Fram, 5.25 x 6 inches, Pen on paper. The parking lot of our local grocery store looks across to lovely tree-covered hills. It’s a good spot to gauge subtle seasonal changes.

In hindsight, I keep thinking about how that little sketchbook made it possible for me to leave the situation happily lost in thought about John Muir Laws’ principles, rather than dwelling fruitlessly on the frustration caused by the unexpected delay.
$3.00 very well spent, wouldn’t you say?

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Enjoy your Thanksgiving leftovers!

Laws’ Laws: Awareness, Creativity, Curiosity

I know that one of the biggest challenges people often experience when beginning a new sketchbook or art journal is taking the first step. I get it; it’s hard not to look at a book of blank pages without feeling a certain amount of trepidation about how it’s going to materialize.

John, detail ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Graphite on paper Many of our life drawing models come with props or costumes. John was leaning on a baseball bat in this pose, which explains the tilt of his body.

In order to get around that fear, I’ve found it helpful to take the perspective that each new page in my daily sketchbook is just another opportunity for pressure-free learning. There’s no point in worrying about the inevitable drawings you won’t want anyone to see, or how unlikely it is that it will end up as a polished product from start to finish. That isn’t the point.

It’s much richer to have a sketchbook that is a true mirror of my day-to-day reality (successes and struggles alike), recording the things that, to some, may seem so ordinary they don’t merit a second glance, but which, for whatever reason, caught my eye in the moment and hold onto that meaning when I look back over those drawings later.

With that in mind, I loved reading about John Muir Laws on Austin Kleon’s blog this week. Laws is a nature journalist and the illustrator of a comprehensive field guide to the wildlife of the Sierra Nevada. He is enthusiastic about sketchbook journaling and promotes it as a way of being more attuned to the beauty that surrounds us and as a weapon against the ennui of familiarity. It’s a strategy that has merit regardless of whether you’re trying to capture a scenic vista or your breakfast dishes.

“We live in a world of beauty and wonder. Train your mind to see deeply and with intentional curiosity, and the world will open before you. Keeping a journal of observations, questions, and reflections will enrich your experiences and develop gratitude, reverence, and the skills of a naturalist. The goal of nature journaling is not to create a portfolio of pretty pictures but to develop a tool to help you see, wonder, and remember your experiences.” ~John Muir Laws

Mermaid ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 18 x 24 inches, Graphite on paper I regret that the model’s facial expression looks so dour here – as she was decidedly not so. Sometimes, just the slightest change of line can affect the whole expression, but unfortunately I didn’t see the need to adjust until after I’d gotten home. As I mentioned in last week’s post, a bit of time and distance can make a huge difference in assessment. She was wearing the most beautiful mermaid costume that she had sewn herself, covered in green sequins. With the flowers in her hair, she was a force!

Laws suggests a three-pronged approach to have in the back of your mind as you tackle your sketchbook/journal. He is a naturalist, so his purview is wildlife and flora, but his principles apply no matter what you choose to draw. They also serve as a reminder that there is a greater significance to drawing regularly than solely capturing a likeness:

Awareness: “I see…”: You notice something, draw a picture of it, make notes about it.
Creativity: “It reminds me of…”: You consciously seek out analogies to what you’ve seen and make notes about those.
Curiosity: “I wonder…” You ask questions or create hypotheses about what you’ve seen.

Additionally, he recommends that each page contain three different types of notes: drawings, words (descriptions), and numbers (measurements). I think this is an especially smart framework to lean on if you’re having trouble getting into a rhythm with a new sketchbook.

Nefertiti ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 24 x 18 inches, Graphite on paper This model doesn’t shy from dressing up either, although she didn’t have time in preparing for this session. Still, I couldn’t help but think of regal Nefertiti as I drew her silhouette, her dreadlocks enclosed in a beautiful head wrap.

Take a swing through Laws’ website –he has a page filled with free online lectures, classes, and step-by-step lessons. I’m not a naturalist sketcher, but the I got a lot out of his talk about his drawing process and practice while knitting by the fire a couple of evenings ago.

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Hard to believe that Thanksgiving is already upon us! With that in mind, I’d like to just take a moment to thank each and every one of you who make the time in your busy lives to check in with me here, whether faithfully each week or just sporadically. Your support, interest, and comments (both public and private) are the meat of the conversation I was seeking when starting Eye of the Needle, and are what keep me coming back week after week.

May you have a lovely holiday!

Pushing Forward

When I left you last week, I had no idea how I was going to proceed with the piece that I’d just finished dyeing. The pre-stitched imagery was completely overpowered by the dye and I didn’t have a clue how to pull it back into control.

As you may remember, this is where we left off last week – you have to really strain to see even a hint of the stitched image.

As with many things, the only way out is forward. And as we’ve frequently discussed in one of my art groups, the most fruitful option is often to just dive in and make a move, see how the piece responds, then make another move, and so on. Slowly and surely the elements (hopefully) begin to fall in place.
And the definite advantage to stitching is that it can always be undone.

Adding strong darks and experimenting with color help to bring the image out from the dye. Note the dark lines in the back corner behind the bowl and pitcher, they serve to push the flat surface away, introducing depth.

There’s a lot to be said for this type of problem-solving and discovery. I often think best while working; a myriad of ideas tend to pop to the surface in the midst of stitching, probably because the work itself is slow and methodical.

I also find it very helpful to take a break overnight before progressing too far. When I come back with fresh eyes the next morning the verdict can easily go either way. Often what I thought was brilliant the day before is decidedly not so — and vice versa, but the time away helps to make that judgment clearer, regardless of which way the needle points.

Drawing out and amplifying the minimal reds from the dye in the foreground (see previous picture) not only brings it forward, but ties it to the nectarines so they don’t appear isolated.

With each new piece in this series, I uncover more avenues I’d like to explore with this process. I’m learning a lot along the way, but don’t feel I’m quite “there” yet. In the meantime, despite the moments of hair pulling, I can think of no other place I’d rather be than on this particular path to discovery.

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Sweet Bowl of Summer, detail ©2018 Elizabeth Fram What was sorely needed was contrast. Intensifying the amount of stitching overall, including complementary sunset-tones to offset the blues, and adding highlights and darks to specific areas, pulls everything together. Remarkably, even though I had virtually no control over where the dye would land within the pre-stitched image, with mindful after- stitching the dye often works to my advantage (i.e. the color on the left side of the bowl and within the pitcher heighten the illusion that they are receding in space).

As the camera pulls farther away, the image holds its own. The stitching, texturally and visually, adds the necessary heft that keeps the surrounding pattern from overwhelming the piece as a whole.

On a different note_____________________________________________________________________________________

Get your weekend off to a great start with these images by Portuguese artist Luisa Azevedo. Pure delight!

Masterworks Online

After our trip to Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts a couple of weekends ago, I can’t help but wish the museum wasn’t three hours south of here. I would love to go more regularly. I always get museum envy after visiting any city — it’s such a luxury to see so many masterworks under one roof.

As the piece begins, I stitch the image with silk thread

Adding definition and texture with stitch variation

Image complete, ready for dye

So I was interested to read on Hyperallergic last weekend that The Art Institute of Chicago has revamped their website and now provides free and unrestricted access to over 44,000 masterpieces from their digital archives. While it may not be quite as good as seeing the work in person, the sophistication of high-resolution images is a darn good substitute, furnishing those of us who live far afield with better access than ever before.

Folded and marked, ready for resist stitching

Resist stitching complete, threads drawn tightly for best results

Reading that article reminded me that several years ago The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York put 400,000 high-resolution images online. Looking further, I discovered The Yale University Art Gallery also offers free downloads of work within their collection, as does The National Gallery of Art and The British Museum. I’m sure many more institutions are jumping onboard as well.

Still wet from the dye process

Dyes and eyedroppers

Dyeing complete, ready to remove resist stitching

I know it’s not quite the same as sitting before the real thing, but it’s pretty remarkable that we can get so close to art virtually, don’t you think? What a gift it is that modern technology allows us to study masterpieces in collections far from home, in incredible detail, from the comfort of our studios.

Unpicking the stitches is a delicate process, especially when doing my best to keep my ripper away from the embroidered image.

The dyed piece unfolded. I may be in a bit of a pickle with this one as the dye took more readily to the embroidered area than it has in the two previous pieces I’ve made with this process. You can only barely see that there is an image hidden in the center. ©2018 Elizabeth Fram

By angling the piece in the light, you can at least see there is something there. Now the detailed work of bringing it out begins. This is going to be a challenge.

While looking into all of the above, I discovered Open Culture, which seems to be a gold mine of free cultural and educational media. You will want to add it to your bookmarks.

What’s Your Line?

Time wears on and my weeks continue to be a balance between drawing and stitching. At the core of each is line — everything else seems to branch out from there. Although it’s surely more time-consuming to try to make room for both disciplines most days, I wouldn’t give up the exchange between them for anything.

In my life drawings, I can’t seem to move away from using .03 and .05 pencils (H, HB, & B). I would prefer richer darks, but don’t want to lose the immediacy and detail in each stroke to smudging or quickly blunting pencil tips, as commonly happens with a softer, darker lead. Using finer points allows me to build layer upon layer of marks that eventually carve out a form that tells a story through patience and time, for me and for the model. I don’t know our sitters, but I have the illusion of feeling I know them better at the end of each session.

When I look at the art of others, as I may have mentioned before, color can draw me from across a room, but it’s line that brings my nose inches from the piece and keeps me there for careful study.
After visiting the Boston MFA this past weekend, I am still thinking about the expertise of two very diverse artists who exploit line to its fullest and best effects.

Dandelions, Jean-François Millet, 1867-68, 16 x 19.75 inches, Pastel on tan wove paper, Boston Museum of Fine Arts

The first was a surprise. I think of Jean-François Millet as a painter, not as a pastel artist. But in the current exhibit French Pastels – Treasures from the Vault (on view through January 6, 2019), a dozen of Millet’s pastel works (along with selections from Cassatt, Degas, Manet, Monet, Pissarro, Redon and Renoir) allow one to experience the breadth of his fluency with line, conveying each scene to the effect of intimately enveloping a viewer. The rhythmic strokes give the illusion that you are peering over his shoulder while he works.

Dandelions, detail, Jean-François Millet, Boston Museum of Fine Arts

In another part of the museum and in a completely different way, EH Shepard’s illustrations in the exhibit Winnie the Pooh: Exploring a Classic (also up through January 6th) are pure delight. I was weaned on A.A. Milne’s books, so it was enchanting to see Shepard’s working drawings, including the written notations between him and Milne as their collaboration developed. Shepard’s ability to convey so much — mood, emotion, & personality — with such brevity, is breathtaking. If you too are a fan of the Hundred Acre Wood, try to get to Boston to catch this special show.

Tree for Wol’s (Owl’s) House from Winnie-the-Pooh, 1926, E.H. Shepard, Pencil on paper

Piglet and Pooh, E.H.Shepard

“Do you think it’s a Woozle?”, E.H.Shepard

“Bumpity Bump going up the stairs”, E.H. Shepard

Hundred Acre Wood, E.H.Shepard

And finally…
Looking for a light-hearted, uplifting, and inspirational art movie to cap off your week? Check out the film Faces Places by Agnès Varda and JR, available through Netflix — or try searching to see where else it may be streaming online. In it, a line of a different sort grabbed me. In response to an onlooker who asked Varda what was the point of the artwork she and JR were creating she quipped, “The point is the power of imagination”.
Perfect!

Endpapers for the House at Pooh Corner, 1928, E.H.Shepard

Traveling With Your Sketchbook

I think Vermont is beautiful at all times of the year, but these past short weeks of peak fall foliage take the cake.

We had two days of upper 70’s weather last week — perfect for enjoying the colors of fall while clearing out the last of the tender veggies in order to get the garlic bed ready for planting.

Such beautiful scenery made the hour-long drive each way / each day this past weekend, to an eagerly anticipated workshop given by Susan Abbott at the Highland Center for the Arts, anything but tedious.

The Highland Center for the Arts in Greensboro is a beautiful venue/resource. It’s mission is to provide “a balanced, year-round schedule of locally and nationally sourced performances, exhibitions, and events suited to serving the residents and artists of Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom”. Lucky for us, you don’t have to live in the Kingdom to enjoy it.

Around a decade ago I discovered the expansiveness of the art blogosphere. Susan’s paintings/blog/sketchbooks were among several* that opened the world of drawing back up for me in a major way. I don’t attend many workshops, but when this one on Travel Sketchbooks surfaced, I was eager to sign up.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 5 x 30 inches, Ink and Watercolor on Paper. One of Susan’s tricks is to take a sheet of watercolor paper, cut it into 4 strips and then accordion fold the strip into equal sections. The result is a mini-sketchbook that is small enough to tuck into a pocket.

It was cold, windy, and rainy our first day, so rather than venturing outside, we took advantage of Ethan Hubbard’s striking black and white photographs of “Old-Time Vermonters” in the gallery of the art center as a way to practice capturing a human form quickly and concisely. Paired with Susan’s slides of Greensboro architecture, we had a taste of creating a sense of unity between a diverse images.

Sunday was a beautiful, sunny day – perfect for being outside. We were warmly welcomed at the Laggis Bros. Farm by human and canine owners alike. With 500 or so Jersey cows who didn’t seem to mind our attention, plus 1500 acres of beautiful farmland vistas stretching into the distance, we had the best of all worlds at our disposal for practice.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 5 x 10 inches, Ink and Watercolor on Paper This and the sketch above are both two-panel sections of another accordion sketchbook. Each square was drawn individually, which explains why the barn to the left of the milk truck is cut off abruptly. I tried to carry some element of each panel into the next to give a sense of continuity.

It was a productive couple of days and Susan was quite generous with her wisdom.
We were immersed in the discussion and practice of contour and gestural drawing, negative space, page design, color theory and the idea of weaving a narrative throughout. All that, sprinkled with art history and plenty of examples by famous and not-so-famous sketchers to study, among friendly workshop mates, made for a fun & rewarding weekend.

*Inspiring sketch artists I discovered all those years ago whose work you may enjoy too are:

Laura Frankstone of Lauralines – look at her galleries over the years
Danny Gregory
Katherine Tyrell of Making a Mark
France Van Stone of Wagonized
Amanda Kavanagh – I’ve linked here to the sketchbook page of her website

I’m as big a sucker for baby animals as anyone. Who could resist this day-old calf, snuggled in its home-made blanket sewn by the farmer?