Author Archives: ehwfram

About ehwfram

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

L’Arte di Firenze

This is a post of images, so get yourself a drink of choice and settle in.

When we last visited Italy a dozen years ago, our days revolved around its magnificent sights, its food, wine, and the camaraderie of our traveling companions. This time around included all of the same, yet with the distinct benefit of also being able to devote a large chunk of time on our own, immersed in the artistic treasure trove that is Florence.

Despite factors being such that we visited during peak tourist season, crowds never really seemed to be an issue — the only time we had to wait in line was to get into the Uffizi, and even then for only about 20 minutes. I mostly credit that ease to having the Firenze card which allows easy and swift access to most museums and sites. Keep it in mind if you’re planning a trip in the future.

Now for a bit of armchair travel…here is a taste of the art of Florence and Ravenna as I saw it, divided into digestible sections. As you can see, those divisions are somewhat arbitrary as they all seem to overlap in one way or another. Such is the beauty of art.

Pattern

Basilica di San Lorenzo This cathedral’s relatively stark (certainly in comparison with the Duomo) facade is heightened by its stonework relief in tandem with the sun.

Baptistry of San Giovanni Marble flooring

Domus dei Tappeti di Pietra (Domus of the Stone Carpets) This important archeological project in Ravenna unearthed a complex of buildings dating back to the Roman Republic through Byzantine times, including a small palace where every floor was covered with marble mosaics. After being restored, the ‘carpets’ of stone were placed back to their original collocation in an underground room that can be entered from the Church of Sant’Eufemia.

Palazzo Vecchio ceiling

Color

Mauseleum Galla Placidia, Ravenna Low light made photographing these stunning glass mosaics incredibly challenging. I think my husband did an admirable job here. All “windows” were filled with alabaster, an example of which you can see on the left side of this picture, with the figure almost pointing to it à la Carol Merrill. A close-up below.

Alabaster window panel within Mauseleum Galla Placidia

On the more contemporary side, the colors inside this closed shop drew me like a magnet.

Street Art

I read about Clet Abraham before we left, so had my eyes peeled for his street art from the get-go. We weren’t disappointed. You can follow him on instagram @cletabraham

Another Abraham piece – photo courtesy of my husband

Even Michelangelo made street art … or at least that’s the legend about this carved portrait on the front wall of the Palazzo Vecchio. I read several stories about it: Popular urban legend has it that it was Michelangelo Buonarroti who created the portrait after taking on a bet that he would be able to do it with his back turned towards the wall, without looking at what he was doing. Another story tells how Michelangelo passed the Palazzo Vecchio one day and under the Loggia dei Lanzi he spotted a man in the pillory who owed him money. He asked the guard who was watching the unfortunate for how much longer the punishment would last and the guard answered: “Not long enough”. To make sure that the Florentine people would remember the criminal for a long time, he chiseled the man’s face on the wall of Palazzo Vecchio.

Once we began noticing them, these images of classical figures with swim masks cropped up all over, and not just in Florence. I was able to find this interview with the anonymous artist.

Humanity

Portrait of an Old Man, last quarter of the 15th century, Fresco on tile. Attribution swings between Filippino Lippi and Domenico Ghirlandaio. Despite his attire, this man looks so contemporary to me, the warmth of his skin tones and kindly eyes speak across the centuries.

Alexander Calder We came across two exhibits in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi that were a total surprise, and happily so. This wire sculpture of Alexander Calder’s, not unlike the facade of San Lorenzo, was dependent on shadow for full effect.

Self-Portrait of Sofonisba Anguissola, 1552-3. In light of Reclamation, the ongoing exhibit at the Helen Day Art Center, which I wrote about here, it was so lovely to see a female painter among the sea of male artists at the Uffizi. Anguissola’s father supported her passion for painting, as well as that of her four sisters who were also painters.

Pang Maokun, “Salotto di Diego Velasquez”, 2017 The other surprise exhibition at the Palazzo Medici Riccardi was a series of paintings by Chinese artist Pang Maokun. His sense of humor, weaving traditional references with a contemporary twist, is delightful.

Pang Maokun, “Dama con l’ermellino”, 2017. If this piece looks vaguely familiar, your memory isn’t fooling you. Here’s a link to da Vinci’s original.

Drawing

Pang Maokun. It was so interesting to see this series of drawings, copies of master works combined with contemporary portraits, set in pairs, and hung so that if you stood to the right only the contemporary portraits were visible, while standing to the left revealed only the copies.

Pang Maokun. Another wonderful drawing of facility and humor.

Alexander Calder This sketch outlines Calder’s idea for a poster announcing his sculptural gift “Teodelapio” to the city of Spoleto.

It’s humbling to include these, but a section on drawing wouldn’t be complete without the addition of several of my sketches, made along the way.

Plaza Santo Spirito ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 10 x 8 inches, Pen and colored pencil. Lunchtime at an osteria before heading to Capella Brancacci to see the famed frescoes by Masolino da Panacale, Masaccio, and Filippino Lippi

Kidnapping of the Sabine Women by Giambologna, Loggia dei Lanzi ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 8 x 5 inches, Pen and colored pencil. There aren’t words to express the experience of sketching one of the world’s most famous sculptures from an outdoor cafe, in one of the world’s most iconic places (Piazza della Signoria), while sipping a Campari soda.

Textiles

The Palazzo Medici Riccardi had rooms filled with tapestries. They were huge and so finely woven that it is hard to imagine their production. Most of their colors have faded away. I think of blue as being among the most fugitive of colors, but was very interested to see that it was one of the few that remained in many of these pieces. Do any of you have an explanation? This small corner of a much larger work displays a glimmer of its former brilliance.

As the following pictures show, the ecclesiastic textiles showcased at the Opera del Duomo Museum were sumptuous and beyond imagining. These are from the 18th century.

Thinking of the strong lighting and magnifying glasses I need for my own work, I couldn’t help but feel for the eyesight of the artists who made these extraordinary pieces.

Embroidered Iris

Gozzoli’s Procession of the Magi

I have saved the best for last. If there is one single work of art that stands out among all the many masterpieces and historical treasures we saw, it would be Benozzo Gozzoli’s Procession of the Magi in the tiny and spectacular Medici Chapel within the Palazzo Medici Riccardi. I can’t begin to do it justice with words, and am still awestruck by the fact that we had this little jewel box all to ourselves, left to marvel at its vibrant colors and striking details in peace and quiet.

Procession of the Magi, Benozzo Gozzoli, Medici Chapel 1459-61

This is one section that I could get close enough to for a detail shot. I have lightened this image hoping to make it clearer for you to see. I was amazed by the glazes and layers of color, and the ability to follow the ancient brushstrokes.

The glory of these paintings doesn’t begin to translate through my photos. The gold glimmers and the landscape seems to breathe with the life of its flora and fauna. Each person is an individual portrait with personality, cheeks glowing with life. There are no windows. Imagine the wonder of sitting in this room in flickering candlelight.

Please, take the time to read more and to see much better images (the frescos are so high up, there was no way to get a photo that isn’t distorted), through this information page on the Traveling in Tuscany website.

To sum it up, if there is one word to best describe the sights of our week, it would have to be “rich”. And I’ll just leave it at that.

❖

And I can’t let you go without mentioning that I just installed my exhibit “Being Home” at The Kendal Gallery of Kendal at Hanover, 80 Lyme Road, Hanover, NH. The show is open daily and will be up through the month of August. I hope you might consider stopping in should you be near there.

Drawing Life

It’s hard to put into words how much I enjoy my life drawing sessions each week, and how much I gain from them. For four hours everything else melts away (except for the background music and minimal chatter) and it’s easy to get lost in the moment and to think solely in graphic terms. I count drawing as one of the most satisfying forms of meditation there is. That doesn’t mean to say there isn’t frustration involved, but the lessons learned make every line, however searching, well worth it.

These thoughts from Roy Eastland’s blog , ‘I Draw’, capture the magic beautifully:

They are drawings of people and that’s all they are. They are drawings done for drawing’s sake (drawing as a way of thinking about drawing). They are drawings of people who were still (or fairly still) for maybe ten or twenty minutes. They are drawings of people but drawings of people are never just hand-made pictures of people. Drawings trace moments in time. Hand-drawn lines take time and the moment of their making is subtly replayed each time someone spends time to notice them. There are heavy lines, sharp lines, long lines, feathery lines… the variety is endless and each of them implies the presence of a thought. We change our minds as we draw and our lines capture those moments of change. We look and we notice something and we try to track the gist of it on the paper. The time taken to draw even the shortest line is there to see in its entirety all at once (like seeing a tiny life-span played out on the page). We pay attention to the simple presence of things whenever we draw. The drawing is always wrong. We look again and we make another line. Each time it is wrong in a different way but sometimes the mark is good in spite of its wrongness. Sometimes the line feels true or it does something interesting (something we couldn’t have predicted but which is more interesting than anything we could have predicted). It’s enough that just a small part of a drawing is interesting for it to feel good. As we make our mark we are bringing into play all our momentary perceptions, all our skill and memories of all the other drawings we have ever seen. Eventually the time is up and the pose ends and all that remains of the moment, and of the protagonists, is the drawing. One day the drawing will be the only thing left of that moment. Perhaps we make ghosts when we draw.

Save It For a Rainy Day

The garden is peaking, the weather has been fantastic, and visitors are making their way to our hill. The beauty of summer has finally settled in.

That said, inspiration for writing has been hard to come by this week. In the spirit of getting us all away from our computers and on to other things, let me offer five arty distractions that may pique your interest in the weeks ahead:

Podcast: “Unspooled” – Actor, comedian, writer, producer Paul Sheer and film critic Amy Nicholson make their way through the American Film Institute’s top 100 movies, dissecting iconic scenes, talking to artists and experts to find out how these films got made and what makes them so special.
Book: The Dressmaker of Khair Khana by Gayle Tzemach Lemmon The story behind an entrepreneur of extraordiary courage, Kamila Sidiq, an Afghani woman who supported her family and many other women with her dressmaking business during the Taliban’s rule of Kabul.
Blog: The Jealous Curator – Curated contemporary art. Her tagline: “Turning jealousy into get-your-ass-back-in-the-studio inspiration”. She also has a podcast.
Movie / Documentary: The Art of Forgery A fascinating documentary about the forger Wolfgang Beltracchi, available through Netflix
Television: PBS series Civilizations

Committing to a “Process of Search”

I recently finished Creative Authenticity, the Ian Roberts book I recommended in this post several weeks ago. Because each essay has a fair amount to digest, I’ve been reading one section at a time, letting the ideas simmer a bit before moving on to the next. In a later section he discusses creativity in relation the to “process of search”. Reading Roberts’ thoughts now couldn’t be more timely or welcome because they relate directly to what’s going on in my studio this summer.

Who knows what ideas may crop up as you go about your regular chores. Each year I have to work really hard to be sure I don’t miss any of the sugar snap peas in my garden. Since they’re the exact same color as their leaves, and because I have them planted so densely, it’s a challenge to be sure I get them all while they’re still young and tender.

Commenting on the importance of commitment (to your concept), Roberts highlights a differentiation between merely thinking through ideas internally and actually beginning the outward process of manifesting them physically. Tackling problems within our minds allows us to move through a host of possibilities that might conceivably lead us to where we think we want to take the work, but without jumping in and committing through action, we’ll never know for sure whether any of those ideas might truly bear fruit, or if they were mostly illusion.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram While talking with a couple of artist friends, it suddenly occurred to me that if I switched my approach, embroidering an image on fabric before creating the stitched-resist pattern, the silk thread would absorb the dye, and the two would become one.

Roberts says, ” We have to realize that in our art, we need to go through the same process of search, with all the same kinds of dead ends and idiotic attempts that go on privately inside our mind throughout the day. …Avenues need to be explored, ideas tested. And like our thinking processes, most don’t work. Some are clearly ridiculous. But when we’re thinking, no one, not even ourselves, “sees” the results. …When we paint, it’s out there in front of us, graphic, black and white, or perhaps in full color. If it isn’t working, it will be oh so obvious”.

Espresso & Peanut Butter ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk. From this angle the sheen of the silk thread picks up the light really well and the image comes through clearly.

By moving beyond our heads and committing to the physical process, we begin to see whether the ideas that seemed so brilliant in the privacy of our brains have any actual merit. And even more importantly, the unexpected will inevitably crop up to inform and direct the work even further, which leads to branches of exploration and discovery above and beyond what we could have dreamed. Roberts calls this “process thinking vs product thinking”, encouraging readers to concentrate less on the finished product and to relax into the process of arriving at it, focusing on the benefits of the discoveries that occur along the way.

But as you can see (or rather can’t see) from this straight-on shot, the image becomes lost. In the next attempt I will try stitching more densely, playing with the direction of the stitches. In addition, I need to make some further calculation so that the placement and size of the image is correct within the pattern. In other words, I still have plenty of “process thinking” in front of me.

It’s a perspective that takes the sting of frustration out of the necessary time and missteps that lead to success. And who wouldn’t welcome that?

“Reclamation”

It’s been a while since I’ve been to an exhibit that really moved me. If you will be anywhere near central Vermont between now and September 8th, make a beeline to the Helen Day Art Center in Stowe to see the the current show Reclamation. I think you too will be mightily impressed.

Jenny Dubnau, “MK Pale Ground”, 2010, Oil on Canvas

Sylvia Maier, “Hawa Bah, mother of Mohamed Bah”, 2017, Oil on copper

Curated by three women, comprised solely of the work of women painters depicting only female subjects, Reclamation brings a sorely needed measure of recognition, not just to the historical lack of acknowledgment afforded to women artists and their valuable contributions over time, but also to the raw power of the work created by the all-female artists included in this show. Co-curator August Burn’s essay in the show’s gallery guide crystallizes and clarifies the strength behind the exhibition’s genesis, and in turn its success.

Daryl Zang, “Wonder”, 2007, Oil on canvas

Daryl Zang, “Roots”, 2008, Oil on Canvas

Most of the paintings are strikingly large, at times even enormous, yet they still manage to maintain a level of emotional intimacy that leaves one with a sense of connection. Despite the disparity between artists and styles, the work imparts an engaging commonality which speaks to viewers across age, life condition, and nationality.

Carol Offutt, “The Strength Within”, 2018, Oil on board

Aleah Chapin, “And We Were Birds”, 2013, Oil on Canvas

I can’t help but wonder if in this particular instance size might be interpreted as a device equated with the need to raise one’s voice to be heard, as women artists have so long sought to be recognized in an art world dominated by men. There are a multitude of perspectives from which one might absorb the work in this show but, without a doubt, accessibility is a crucial part of its charm.

Hung Liu, “Xinshi: Messenger”, 2016, Mixed Media

Kyrin Hobson, “Innocent”, 2016, Charcoal with Wolf’s Carbon on paper

I hope you will have a chance to see Reclamation in person to judge for yourself.

Dog Daze

Looking back over posts from the past couple of months, I see it’s been a while since Quinn has made an appearance here. Despite the regularity of my weekly life drawing sessions, she’s still my most faithful and readily available model. It is the rare week that I don’t try to capture her in at least one or two sketches.

©Elizabeth Fram, 11 x 8.5 inches, Pen & ink on paper. Other days she’s the cooperative one but I’m the problem, in need of many searching tries to get the lines where they should be.

©Elizabeth Fram, 11 x 8.5 inches, Pen & ink on paper

©Elizabeth Fram, 5 x 8 inches, Graphite on paper

Unsurprisingly, I tend to be drawn to work that includes a creature of some sort. If you are also a member of that camp, take a look at the art resources for animal lovers listed below.

Susan Hertel (1930-1993), an artist I had never heard of before coming across a retrospective catalogue of her paintings while vacationing in New Mexico years ago. I was immediately smitten with her compositions, her rich use of pattern, and her portrayal of her animals (horses, dogs & cats), an element integral to both her work and her life.
Lark Book’s 500 Animals in Clay is a delightful compendium of beautifully, and often humorously, crafted representations of the animal kingdom.
Mr. Finch, of Mr. Finch Textile Art, fabricates stunning pieces that are a combination of the magic of fairytales with a touch of Darwin.
BONUS: David Hockney’s paintings of his beloved dachshunds.

Welcoming Possibility

In 2012 I made a series of pieces that incorporated synthetic bulk tea packaging as their primary “fabric”. The bags were cut, collaged together with snippets of silk, and then heavily embroidered. Looking at those pieces now I still find the effect of the bags’ crinkled matte black and metallic-printed surfaces, offset by the seemingly more organic resist-dyed silk and fields of hand-stitching, creates a visually enjoyable textural combination.

I noted in my statement for that series that it had been strongly influenced by growing up among family members who were often quite ingenious at repurposing worn-out everyday objects so they could serve a second life beyond their originally intended use. It’s a mindset that encourages one to look at materials with a sense of possibility.

Thinking somewhat along the same lines, haven’t we all experienced an unplanned “accident” (i.e. potential disaster), when something goes awry mid-process — like an errant splotch of paint or a tear in the silk when the the seam-ripper slips? I count it a successful day when I can come up with a way to switch gears with a solution that not only makes the work even more effective than originally planned, but which fits the piece well enough that it appears to be a choice I intended all along.

Detail 1

In that light, you won’t be surprised that I was inspired and amused by these 15 examples of artists creating a fix that makes their results so much more engaging than the unmodified original.

Detail 2

This is why I never plan too far ahead in my process; doing so tends to be a sure recipe for frustration. Being open to possibilities has led to results that are often more successful than I could have planned ahead of time, and I’ve discovered that the process of working through unanticipated issues is far more rewarding than going from start to finish without any snags.
How about you? Can you relate?

Hearthstone Anecdote We moved into our house when there were still a fair amount of details left to complete. One of the many things on that to-do list was finishing our fireplace and laying down the hearthstone. Choosing a beautiful piece of soapstone for it’s color and pattern, I felt especially lucky that the stone seller had just enough left for what we needed. The day it was due to be laid in place, our builders were cutting it to size on our front deck. Suddenly there was a noticeable quiet and their heads were tightly grouped together in discussion. It was obvious from the uncharacteristic whispering that something must be seriously wrong. It turns out the stone had broken in half and, knowing it couldn’t easily be replaced, they were mortified. This is one instance when I truly believe all the practice with studio disasters was a saving grace. That and the fact that not too long before I had read about the Japanese art of kintsugi. With a bit of research and the benefit of local artisans who generously shared their knowledge of metals, we were able to join the two halves with bronze (really a bronze powder stirred into a fixative that allowed it to flow in place without heat), resulting a lovely metallic vein that makes for a one-of-a-kind hearthstone that I think is far more beautiful and interesting than it would have been without the unexpected snafu. Plus, it’s become one of my favorite memories of our house-building process.

Are You a Cezanne or a Picasso?

During Season1, Episode 7 of his Revisionist History podcast, Malcolm Gladwell discusses an interesting theory about the way that artists produce work. For some, ideas tend to materialize instantaneously, practically fully-formed. Their work succeeds when the artist is very young, and they often remark that it flowed out from them as though it was just “there” — ripe for the picking. Others labor over their art for years, needing time and space to make the many, many finely-tuned adjustments that eventually bring it to the point where they can comfortably say it is complete.

I figure it took me around 10 hours to complete all this pre-dye stitching. If you’re wondering how I have time to listen to all the podcasts I recommend, now you know.

The idea behind this theory originated with David Galenson, a University of Chicago economist who posited that there are two completely different camps of art-makers. The first group, the Conceptual Innovators, are youthful stand-outs. They create quickly, with easy articulation, achieving revolutionary breakthroughs from an early age. Picasso is a prime example.

The stitching becomes obvious once the piece is dyed.

The second group Galenson identifies as Creative Innovators. These artists often take years to develop their work through arduous trial and error, never having a clear-cut trajectory in their efforts to figure out what exactly they want to say. They tend to never be satisfied as they work their way through endless drafts. He tags Cezanne as illustrating this category of artist.

I made an effort to saturate one side with deeper color than the other, hoping for some interesting variations.

Galenson points out that this theory isn’t unique to the visual arts, and it is fascinating to note icons who easily fall within one of the two categories. Conceptual Innovators include Herman Melville who wrote Moby Dick in his early 30s, Orson Welles who made Citizen Kane when he was 26, and Lorde, whose musical prowess in her teens earned her a spot as the youngest person on Forbes’ 2014 “30 under 30” list of “young people who are changing our world”. He cites Mark Twain and Alfred Hitchcock as two Creative Innovators who didn’t reach a peak until they were in their 50s.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram , 28 x 28 inches, Stitched-resist dye on Silk All told, it only took about two hours to dye and carefully pick out all the stitching. I absolutely love this part of the process because it’s always so exciting as the details are revealed – and you can’t know until the very end how the overall piece with appear.

The majority of Gladwell’s podcast centers on the layers of exploration and experimentation laid out in the writing of two songs, one by Elvis Costello and the other by Leonard Cohen. I found it fascinating to learn the specifics of the years of reworking and painstaking evolution required by each. If you have a soft spot for Cohen’s iconic song Hallelujah, which took more than 15 years (with contributions by other musical artists) to achieve the level of recognition that came with the late Jeff Buckley’s beautiful version, that in itself will make the 40 minute podcast worth your time.

❖

If you’re interested in this subject, I’ve discovered that Galenson has written a book: Old Masters and Young Geniuses: The Two Life Cycles of Artistic Creativity.

Seasonal Adjustments

Even though practically every entity I know is coming out with their own tantalizing list of books to read this summer, my reading habits are in flux.
I find I don’t read anywhere near as much, or as fast, at this time of year as during winter. So I’m stowing away most of the suggestions that are rolling in and will return to them in the colder, darker months.

John ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 18 x 24 inches, Graphite on paper The contrast between the rich, dark background and the strong light on John’s face was striking. This relatively quick study couldn’t do justice to the deep, velvety background that I envisioned, and which would be such a strong component in the hands of a competent painter. I was drawn to the idea of the composition being very long & narrow, say a 1:3 ratio – with the head at the far right side, posing a strong counterweight to the expanse of dark space. In making use of as much of my paper as possible to study and map the characteristics of his head, I wasn’t able to realize the proportions I would have preferred.

During June, July, and August I tend to gravitate toward periodicals for my art reading, catching up on the back issues that have been piling up. My current favorite is Art & Antiques — a much appreciated Christmas gift subscription from my father. The articles are short enough to squeeze in around the warm weather activities that are taking precedence right now, while still maintaining an engaging diversity of scope that carries just the right depth of information so that I feel like I learned something, yet without needing to wade through an overly erudite dissertation. And the best part – of course – is the images are plentiful and lush.

I have memories of A&A as one of the magazines that sat on my grandmother’s coffee table when I was a kid. I would occasionally flip through an issue, only to be disappointed by images of old, dark paintings and old, dark furniture…a memory that could well be attributed more to my age and lack of knowledge, than to reality. But times have changed, I’ve changed, and so has the magazine. My dad definitely made a great choice of gift; I’ve been delighted to see that Art & Antiques is now a vibrant and current art journal — anything but old and dark. I’m discovering artists that are new (to me) and learning about old familiars in a fresh light.

Converse ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 18 x 24 inches, Graphite on paper Usually I try to compose my life drawings so that the full figure is included, but this time, for reasons mentioned above, I only included John’s head. After lunch I couldn’t resist working on his shoes, also full of character and ripe for an interesting composition when combined with the shadow shapes cast by the strong lighting.

However, if you’re looking for something more substantial to sink your teeth into, a new list popped into my Feedly stream last week from My Modern Met: “20 Books Every Artist Needs on Their Bookshelf”. I have only read 7 of the 20, so I’ll be adding a few more titles to my TBR (to be read) list for the fall.
How about you? Are there any on this list that you would particularly recommend, or that you have been meaning to read?

Meanwhile, I just discovered painter/instructor Ian Roberts, who trained in Toronto and Florence, and now resides in LA. I can completely relate to his writing and ideas, so I treated myself to a Kindle edition of his book Creative Authenticity: 16 Principles to Clarify and Deepen Your Artistic Vision. It’s a series of essays that evolved from a talk he gave to a large group of artists and writers, spiraling outward from those ideas by posing questions and suggesting possibilities, rather than proffering answers.
So far, I’m finding it excellent.

What, if any, seasonal adjustments do you make in your practice and/or reading habits?

Forward, March

“Creativity takes courage” ~Matisse

My week at the Studio Center opened a door that won’t close tightly again. And that’s just fine. I approached my time there as a portal for experimentation, and now I realize that there’s no going back; it’s a one-way path.

While I don’t have any idea where exactly I’m heading, let alone what it is I’m seeking, my goal is to figure out how to “stitch” previously learned lessons into something new. For all I know, I may eventually circle back around to a point very near where I left off. But for now I’m feeling the need to stretch, and it’s equal parts liberating and scary as I jump in with no specific end-point in sight.

With that in mind, I stumbled across a couple of resources that have been both encouraging and reassuring. Maybe you will find them so as well.

Nicholas Wilton often shares nuggets of good advice on his blog, but this quick video about breaking through to something new in your work couldn’t have come at a more timely moment.
Finding this 2014 issue of NEA Arts, “The Art of Failure – The Importance of Risk and Experimentation”, was a score. I haven’t made it through the whole issue yet, but the interviews I have read are illuminating. Don’t miss what Perry Chen has to say on “Improving Through the Creative Process” on page 09. It’s good to be reminded that plenty of others have been on this path before me (us).

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, detail, Stitched-resist Dye on Silk, 10 x 25 inches. What I find most exciting about this process is it seems to be equal parts careful planning and pure serendipity. The dye acts as both a partner and an opponent, but its unpredictability is the secret that makes the process so rewarding.