Category Archives: Textiles and Drawings

Southern Venture

Ready for a quick trip to the South?
Last week we visited Charleston, SC and Savannah, GA and, as on most travels, there was plenty of art to enjoy in the moment and to think about after coming home. Here are a few highlights from The Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston, my favorite of the various art venues we visited.

Imagined Boundaries ©2017 – present, Raheleh Filsoofi, Multimedia Installation. In this striking wall installation, Filsoofi asks viewers to consider — What is a limit? What is a border? Who is on the other side? Her aim is to interrupt cultural preconceptions and to create dialogue around socio-political issues such as borders, immigration and community building by creating boxes that act as portals communicating shared humanity.

These are still shots from a video within one of Filsoofi’s boxes. The viewer becomes participant in that the video subjects appear to be checking us out as closely as we are observing them.

Self Portrait Emma ©2002 Alison Saar, Oil on Skillet. Saar’s work frequently focuses on societal notions regarding the positioning of African Americans and women in domestic realms. This oil portrait of a domestic worker on the bottom of a frying pan is intentionally faint, (I have drastically over-exposed my photo to make it visible to you) invoking the relative invisibility of a typical household cook or kitchen maid.

Never Again ©Mary Jackson, Sweetgrass and palmetto. Mary Jackson is an internationally recognized master of sweetgrass basketry. This piece took 3 years to complete.

What attracted me to The Gibbes Museum in the first place was their collection of miniature portraits. According to the museum’s literature, the first-ever American miniatures were painted in Charleston and the Gibbes collection holds over 600 works spanning from early colonial examples of the 18th century to the Revival Period of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
They are remarkable!

H.F. Plowden Weston, by Charles Fraser, 1824

Miss Reynolds of Fenwick Hall, by Charles Fraser, 1835

Christopher Gustavus Memminger, by Charles Fraser, 1823 This gentleman looks so familiar to me! I think I’ve watched way too many Masterpiece period dramas.

Actor Jack Farthing

How wonderful to see Joseph Jackson’s sketchbook which held preliminary portraits that he may have used to impress perspective clients.

Moving on, there’s nothing quite like an independent bookstore for providing a sense of grounding when visiting a new locale. Curated shelves that reflect local pride in the history, authors and artists of a place reveal the rich undercurrent of a city in a way that generic travel books can’t begin to match.
If you’re willing to snoop around a bit, you never know what you might discover. A visit to Buxton Books in Charleston opened a couple of interesting doors for me.

I loved the art on the cover of this book of poetry by South Carolinian Marlanda Dekine, and had to find out more about Fletcher Williams III, the artist who created it. The piece is named “Westward”.

It turns out that Williams has a resume that extends far beyond book cover illustration. He is a multi-media artist living and working in Charleston, making identity-based art and is a rising star. With an academic foundation in psychology and anthropology, his artwork speaks to the history of Charleston and the culture of the Lowcountry, but not in the way one might expect.

Taking time to follow the interview links on Williams’ website gave me a much deeper understanding of both his artistic aims and the challenges he confronts. He is incredibly thoughtful and articulate. His discussion regarding having to navigate the complexities of feeling pressured to speak to the Black experience, while coping with narratives thrust upon him and his artwork that are not his own, was enlightening. While I don’t think one can ever fully grasp the underlying dynamics of a specific place unless one is a native, I found it fascinating (and important) to get a glimpse, via his interviews, beyond the usual tropes and assumptions.

And for those more interested in textiles, the other book that caught my attention was Embroidery: Threads and Stories from Alabama Chanin and the School of Making by Natalie Chanin. It was way too fat and heavy to bring home in my carry-on, but I snagged a Kindle edition and am looking forward to reading, rather than just flipping through this part autobiography, part “exploration into how sewing and embroidery relate to wider concerns of sustainability, community and women’s empowerment”.

If you go, other bookstores to explore in both cities:
Blue Bicycle Books, Charleston
E. Shaver, Bookseller, Savannah

Two museums to check out in Savannah:
Telfair Academy (The first museum in the US founded by a woman), and
The Jepson Art Center
Oh, and there’s a Blick store in Savannah too!

And now, it’s nice to be home.

Keeping Track

The Museum of Craft and Design in San Francisco is currently exhibiting 100 of Anne Hicks Siberell’s Concrete Journals. A bookmaker and writer, Siberell has been a visual diarist for decades. Initially inspired by the permanence of ancient clay cuneiform tablets, she has made several hundred collaged “entries” marking personal and world events by embedding collected ephemera within concrete that she then carves and paints once it has dried.

Too bad the show isn’t a little more convenient to see in person, but in lieu of that, don’t miss Siberell’s website for examples of her journal tablets and other work.

The urge to keep a record, to act as witness within our own lives and of the world at large, is ubiquitously human. For the reader/viewer of these works, experiencing the intimacy of another’s story is a gift. The first time I realized the empathic enormity to be gained from learning about someone else’s day-to-day was in middle school, reading Anne Frank’s diary. It was an important lesson at a time in life when one is largely self-absorbed.
May Sarton’s Journal of a Solitude had a tremendous impact on me in college and, as noted in a post from May 2020, resonated just as strongly soon after the pandemic confined us. Meanwhile, I have just begun Anne Truitt’s Day Book and look forward to the lessons she too will have for me.

John ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and colored pencil in a 12 x 9 Fabriano Venezia sketchbook. Our life drawing group has revived! So lovely to spend several hours on Monday painting directly from a model in the company of others.

Thinking along these lines, I can’t tell you how many written journals I have begun and deserted over the years. My inability to follow through has always made me a bit sad. But after looking at Siberell’s work and learning of the appellation “visual diarist”, I realized that I have been keeping a diary of sorts all along.

A sneak peak at my current work in progress. Oh – that blue! This model has such knowing eyes, which may well figure into the title. The gloppy yellow hair strands are masking fluid which I’ll remove eventually, but for the moment it keeps those areas safe from paint.

A trip back through my “catalogue” of work so far: pastel paintings, art quilts, textile collages, drawings, sketchbooks, and current stitched portraits and house & garden pieces, is just as much an ongoing record of personal events and experiences as that of any formal written diary. And then there is this blog, which I have maintained faithfully and regularly for the past 8-1/2 years.
So it looks like I have indeed been keeping track after all. To underline the point, note the title of this post from May, 2020, also linked above. How very reassuring to know that everything hasn’t just evaporated with the years.

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And to leave you with a smile….artist friend and animal lover Leslie Roth shared a follow-up to my last post that you won’t want to miss : Vermeer’s newly discovered dog portraits. Be sure to note the date of the article!

Gone to the Dogs

Usually, an idea for each upcoming blog post surfaces well before I begin writing. But this week I’ve been at a loss. After a number of false starts, I was sitting here at my computer wondering what in the world to write when I started to tune into the soft and steady breathing from under my desk.

Under the Desk

And simple as that, this post was born. Quinn’s gentle snoring nudged me into remembering a recent article about a new exhibition that has just opened at the Wallace Collection in London, “Portraits of Dogs: From Gainsborough to Hockney” .

Amos, 1976 by Andy Warhol ©Andy Warhol

My chances of getting to see the show in person are slim. So in lieu of heading to the UK, I pulled out a couple of books that center on dogs in art and had a bit of an at-home exhibition of my own.

The Book of Dog, by Angus Hyland & Kendra Wilson

The first, The Book of Dog, is a compendium of varied works spanning centuries, curated with a contemporary eye. The other, We Think the World of You is a series of sensitive pencil drawings enhanced with minimal washes of color by David Remfry. Although quite spare, his pieces convey the depth of the unique bond between individual dogs and owners.

All Curled Up ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and graphite on paper, 5.5″H x 5″W I couldn’t resist painting my own trusty studio assistant, with a heathy dose of gratitude to her for helping me figure out what to write this week. For more examples of her tolerant modeling, check out the Ruby, Lola & Quinn section of my website.

In snooping around a bit more online to see what else I could learn about the Wallace Collection show, I came across this searing review. Honestly, it is so outspokenly negative it made me chuckle. As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

This photo is from an invitation to an exhibition at the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rottredam, 1995.

A dog portrait may not be to everyone’s taste, but for those who are of like mind, here’s to our beloved canine pals – in art and in general. And an added three cheers for the sweet sense of connection that comes in knowing that such greats as Leonardo da Vinci, Andy Warhol and David Hockney also found inspiration in portraying their pets. In Hockney’s case, the portraits of his dachshunds even offered an avenue toward moving through grief after the death of a close friend.
From a more workaday perspective though, I’ll bet each famous master (pun intended) welcomed the break that painting a pooch provided from the demands of finicky human patrons.

Tools of the Trade

It’s been a while since I last posted about art supplies.
As I delve further into stitched paintings, new supplies are rotating into my regular line-up. I’m also reintroducing a couple of items that I haven’t used in decades, but happily never got rid of…chalk one up for pack-rat genes! Maybe something below will nudge you into thinking about trying something new – or old – in your own practice.

I’ve recently been considering the possibility of incorporating small areas of gold into my paintings. However, before dropping into a gold leaf rabbit hole, I realized I already had some ground gold watercolor pigment from Daniel Smith that I must have bought at their flagship store when we lived near Seattle almost 30 (gulp) years ago. It’s so old I don’t think you can even get it like this anymore, but what I have hasn’t suffered any with age. Once reconstituted with water, it’s just the touch of Midas I was looking for, without the learning curve.

When I worked in graphic design (and we actually drew with real ink rather than on computers), I had a ruling pen for making rules/lines. It’s a great tool that I’d completely forgotten about. Listening to a podcast recently, I heard someone mention using a ruling pen as a way to get a really fine and even line with masking fluid for her watercolors. Eureka! Works like a charm — as you can see both above & below.

Gold paint and masked lines in action on my current piece

It hasn’t taken long to realize that if I’m going to continue with watercolor painting, I need to stretch my paper. I wanted a couple of boards that could accommodate smaller cuts of paper and would fit on my desk with all the other supplies. But I didn’t want to have to buy a full 4′ x 8′ sheet of plywood which was way more than needed. I’m so grateful that a friend had a smaller, cast-off piece in his barn that he was willing to throw my way. My husband cut it down into 4 pieces of varying sizes and sanded them to a velvet finish for me. A quick coat of sealant on the flat sides and gesso along to edges to keep out the water and I am now in business with several sizes to choose from. If you’re interested in making your own boards, “Watercolorish” has a solid video that discusses his boards and his method for stretching paper.

The algorithm on Instagram definitely has me pegged, so the ads I see are pretty much all art-related. In two cases I learned about items that have become my new workhorses.

Jazper Stardust paint is 100% handmade in micro batches of pure earth pigments. I bought a set of 12 half pans of what he calls “Skin Tones” and I absolutely love them. They mix and granulate beautifully. If you’re curious, he has loads of intriguing individual colors and sets – a lot of which are geared toward landscape artists with specific locales and weather in mind.

Last fall I bought two round Polina Bright brushes. Their performance is so outstanding that I bought a rigger and mop brush last month. Made with synthetic hair, they aren’t expensive yet they hold water and a point better than any of my other “fancier” brushes. Heads-up: she’s in Australia so your order will take a bit of time in transit.

And of course it pays to keep your eyes open because you never know where and when you’ll find your next treasure.

I grabbed this gem last weekend at a nearby bookshop; it’s from the awesome Peter Pauper Press (love their sketchbooks too). It comes with 3 removable book-like inserts: 1 with lined paper, 1 with dotted grid pages, and 1 with blank pages, and it also includes a zippered storage pocket.

It’s wonderfully compact (7-3/4″ x 4.5″) with a faux leather cover and an elastic band closure, so I know it will be secure in my bag and can stand up to lots of use, making it perfect for both travel and around town. I’m thinking I’ll just switch out a couple of the ready-supplied inserts for a homemade sketchbook using the Fabriano or Stillman & Birn paper I have on hand.

Finally, writing this post tickled my curiosity because I know there have to be plenty of other folks who are sharing what they know about art supplies online. Here’s a list of various podcasts that do just that. I can’t vouch for any of them yet, but I’ll be listening to “Art Supply Posse“ this afternoon as I continue with the stitching phase of my current work in progress.

Sneak peak of “Keeper of the Keys” earlier in the week as I was choosing thread colors.

Who’s Really In Charge?

I have to wonder sometimes, who’s in charge – the artist or the art?

When I began my latest portrait, I thought I had a pretty good handle on how it would progress. Having already stitched the white background pattern (shared with you in my last post) I fully expected to layer more paint and stitching both on top of that area and within the house shape surrounding the finished portrait.

Preliminary sketches provide space to try out possibilities

Experimental practice sketches like the one above nudged me toward a rich stew of color and texture, brought to life by painting over the stitched white pattern, adding brushstrokes to mimic stitching, and finishing with another layer of colored thread embroidery.

The next 5 photos follow the progression of this portrait at various stopping points. I take these images because they give me a bit of distance after each session, allowing me to see where to go next. Plus, I’m usually so tied up in a piece during the making that it’s a treat to go back later to revisit its evolution.

It’s all well and good to have a plan, but you also have to be willing to let it go. This turned out to be a classic example of thinking I knew where the piece was headed, but ultimately the work itself had the final say.

Winter Garden 2

Once I had removed the masking from around the house shape, I had to acknowledge – despite all my plans – that the white-on-white stitching didn’t need my interference. It seemed to say everything I needed it to, just as it was. In fact, overlaying the background with more color and texture felt unnecessary and superfluous.

Winter Garden 3

Often, both the easiest and the hardest part of the process is to step away, trusting that sleeping on an issue will weed out any uncertainties and allow for deciding what will be the right call. After taking an overnight timeout I felt satisfied that my instincts were correct. Sometimes the best approach is to just get out of the way and listen to the work.

Winter Garden 4

All of this leads to two contradictory nuggets of wisdom that have proven, many times over, to be invaluable to me:

When you think a piece is finished, keep pushing deeper, and
Less is more

Of course the tricky part is figuring out which is called for, when.

One last word on the subject of portraits…I received the happy news this week that I received an Honorable Mention Award from Teravarna Art Gallery in their “6th Portrait” competition.

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Substack is quickly becoming my new favorite reading spot.
In his “10 Things Worth Sharing” newsletter on Substack this week, Austin Kleon linked to an “Open Letter To The Next Generation Of Artists“, written by jazz greats Herbie Hancock and the recently deceased Wayne Shorter. Give it a read; it will give you a lift in return.

Women of Substance

Last month we lost a quietly powerful local artist.
For those of you who didn’t know Michelle Saffran or her work, please take some time on her website to become acquainted with her stunning altered photographs. And don’t overlook her poignant statements; they eloquently articulate her focus and intent.

Michelle ©2020 Elizabeth Fram Ink and colored pencil on paper, 14 x 11 inches Michelle was one of fourteen friend-volunteers who graciously sent me a selfie for my Covid-19 Drawing Project, soon after lockdown began.

Michelle’s photography is a haunting touchstone with place, memory, uncertainty, sometimes despair and ultimately hope — emotions that were certainly personal for her, yet are undeniably universal. She deftly found a way to illustrate both the uniqueness and the ubiquity of the human experience through moments captured on her camera and then further manipulated in her studio.

Learning of her death was a shock; I hadn’t even been aware she was sick. As I’ve revisited her website in the past couple of weeks, Hippocrates’ quote “Ars longa, vita brevis” kept coming to mind.

Michelle Saffran, Earth Danced Under A Hear Haze

Earth Danced Under A Hear Haze ©2018 Michelle Saffran, Inkjet print. Each image is made from 4 – 19″ x 13″ photographs sewn together to make one scroll measuring 19″ x 52″. This piece speaks to me about the mystery and power of nature. The juxtapositions are somewhat reminiscent of Jerry Uelsmann, yet with a voice that is clearly Michelle’s own.

However, in looking into the root of that quote it turns out not to mean, as I’d incorrectly assumed, that art lasts a long time while our lives do not. Rather, it refers to the fact that “it takes a long time to acquire and perfect one’s expertise and one has but a short time in which to do it”.

How true and ultimately sobering. It’s a clarion call to get back to work.

Winter’s Hush ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, graphite and stitching on paper, 5 x 5 inches. The snow gods have smiled on us again, bringing peace to the winter landscape – and comfort in a time of loss.

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I recently stumbled across the work of Lalla Essaydi, and was wowed.

Bullets #3, © Lalla Essaydi

Being something of a crow in my love for pretty objects, her glittering piece “Bullet #3” immediately caught my eye on Instagram. I was intrigued to learn that the gold is actually bullet casings, gathered from American shooting ranges and woven together with wire. The casings symbolize violence and express Essaydi’s concern about the treatment of women following the Arab Spring. Her series “Bullet” and “Bullet Revisited” are about that violence projected on women, specifically physical violence during gatherings in the squares.
But there is so much more behind her photographs: considerations of space both physical and psychological, and women within those spaces. This short introduction doesn’t do her or her work justice. Set aside some time to visit her website to see and read more. Her statement is long, but captivating.

That Time Again

A sneak peak at what I’m currently working on…

If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you know that sooner or later a book post is bound to roll around again. I love reading (obviously) or just living for a while in the world of pictures. But I also get a charge out of discussing books, listening to podcasts about them, learning more about the author’s backstory, what s/he had in mind when writing, and ultimately sharing the titles of those I just can’t keep to myself.

So for this first post of 2023, here are three books I received this Christmas that I hope might brighten your new year as much as they are brightening mine.

David Hockney A Yorkshire Sketchbook

No words, only pictures. A sweet little book of the English countryside through the eyes of one of my favorite artists. It touches on a few of the art-y things that get my pulse revved up: loose watercolor work, organic pattern, and the geometry of divided space.

Inhabiting the Negative Space, Jenny Odell

What a fabulous jumping-off point this book is for approaching the new year! Very short and to the point, it was Odell’s 2020 virtual commencement address to the Harvard Graduate School of Design. Within its pages she pushes back against our current tendency toward incessant productivity, looking instead to periods of inactivity as vitally important for generating ideas. Frankly, I needed a reminder that time spent in reflection and contemplation is valuable, and that mind-space is a necessary ingredient for sowing the seeds of insight and is crucial to creative work.

Drawing for Illustration, Martin Salisbury

Suggested by illustrator Lucia Leyfield (another book recommender!) in her newsletter, this reference book is wise, informative, and discusses aspects of drawing that I find so enjoyable. Very inspirational.

And, because I can’t resist: my latest happy discovery is artist Sandi Hester. Her irrepressibly joyful personality spills into her informative Youtube art videos and her work. The world is so darn serious these days — she just makes me smile for so many reasons.
Below is a video where she talks about her favorite art books. We share some overlaps, but I also learned about a handful of new-to-me artists. Maybe you will too.

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Finally, for those of you near enough to make the trek, I’ll be part of the upcoming exhibition “Transformations: Material Environment, Us”, which opens at Studio Place Arts Third Floor Gallery on January 25th.

Join us for the Artist Social on Saturday January 28 from 3:30-5pm. Please also note that on Friday, February 3rd at noon there will be a panel discussion moderated by Leslie Roth with 3 of the participating artists: Jane Quimby, Heather Ritchie and Dianne Shullenberger.
Hope to see you at either or both events!

The work isn’t over once the brush and needle are set down. Framing is just another step in the process and I think this floating approach is a good way to go with these stitched paintings. This piece, “House on Fire”, will be part of the upcoming “Transformations” exhibit.

Sanctuary

The last week of the year is special.
All the hustle, bustle and added to-do’s that define December are now in the rear view, making way for pockets of time to sit back and think about what’s next.

Snow Moon & Firestorm

My final project of the year was a commission that a I’ve kept mum about until final approval. The directive was for it to be about a foot tall, a house nestled in branches and, similar to Snow Moon, covered with trees. Much like Firestorm, it was to be wrapped in a mantle of organza, this time embroidered with leaves. Prominent colors would be browns, oranges and greens. The aim was for the house to feel enveloped in nature and to represent, as my collector put it, “sanctuary from the crazy times we live in”.

Although not specifically asked for, this metallic copper-colored moon/sun seems to add just the right note of mystery

Working on such a relatively small scale carried a few unforeseen challenges, such as how to incorporate the organza cloak. But frankly, no piece would feel complete – or suitably satisfying – without a puzzle or two.

I dyed the organza to suggest the mottled colors of the tree canopy, and folded the fabric into a double layer to provide depth through color variation. The puzzle was figuring out how to embroider leaves so that the reverse, which would likely be visible, wasn’t a mess of knots and crossed threads. Sarah Homfray’s YouTube channel of embroidery tutorials is an amazing resource!

Now that it’s finished, it will soon be on its way to Texas. And in hindsight, I couldn’t have asked for a more positive note than the idea of “sanctuary” to close out 2022, or to prepare for the fresh page of 2023.

With that sentiment in mind, I wish you a peaceful new year – bright with the possibilities that lie in creativity. And I’ll look forward to reconnecting with you in a couple of weeks.
Happy New Year!

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Following through on the idea of sanctuary – my final suggestion/recommendation for the year:

I’ve had my eye on Jethro Buck’s work for a while. The Albert Einstein quote on his website landing page pretty much says it all: “Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better”.

Short & Sweet

Considering it’s the season of giving, I’d like to share something special with you.

First a bit of backstory:
My father has always been a big fan of the newspaper’s daily comics. When I was little – and even now – he would/will often comment on the drawing skills of certain cartoonists, particularly their ability to convey so much with a spare line. I got the idea from an early age that these weren’t just the “funny papers”, they were also art. Those sentiments have stayed with me. To this day, Dad still reads the comics religiously and, since our local paper doesn’t carry the classics, he regularly cuts them out and sends them my way. Lucky me!

Comics

In a Doonesbury strip this past October, the character Zonker Harris is thwarted by some less-than-enthusiastic kids when he tries to read a Doonesbury strip to them. As a former professional nanny, Zonker suggests to parents/readers that if they want to foster a love of cartoons that will last into their kids’ adulthood, they should encourage them to watch animated classics. He (or more aptly, Garry Trudeau) then offers a link to the Oscar-nominated, 1967 short film “Windy Day” by John and Faith Hubley as a great place to start.*

In the spirit of the season, as well as in appreciation for my father, who introduced me to an art form that allows one to find joy and humor in the everyday, as well as in oneself, please enjoy this short, heartwarming and sweet film. It holds a special reverence for the joy of imagination as we experienced it as kids, and hopefully have held onto as adults.

Happy Holidays!

*A bit of a treasure hunt: Look for the Chagall reference about 2/3 of the way through.

Inspiration Over Perspiration

It was a relatively quiet Thanksgiving here on our hill, so for once, with less kitchen duties to tend to, artistic inspiration won out over culinary perspiration. Having the time to immerse myself in and to reflect upon the creativity of others was a gift.

Here are several recommendations I think worth passing along:

If you haven’t already seen them, be sure to check out the two new episodes of “Craft in America”: Inspiration and Home.
How have I not been aware of Diedrick Bracken’s spectacular woven tapestries before now?! Brackens is featured in the Inspiration episode.

Because I have always been attracted to clay objects (little known fact: my first real job was potter’s apprentice), I was riveted by the segment on Syd Carpenter’s ceramic pieces in the Home episode.

Carpenter’s three sculptural series: Places of Our Own, Farm Bowls and Mother Pins resonate deeply, despite the vast differences between our heritages. I find her exploration of home and garden through the lens of African American owners and stewards of the land, interlaced with the connection between the land and strong female figures, quite moving. The forms she creates are absolutely lovely.

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Not a new book, but new to me, Ann Patchett’s series of personal essays in This is the Story of a Happy Marriage are outstanding. Her piece “The Getaway Car”, (also available as a stand-alone book), is a must-read for any creative. Reassuring and invigorating, this essay recounts her persistent life adjustments toward the goal of carving out room for the one thing that mattered most to her: writing. Eschewing inspiration, Patchett humbly credits her success to hard work and devotedly putting in the hours — on both good days and bad. Her insights ring true for any artist, regardless of medium. And she’s not too proud to remind us that doubts and worries come with the territory, no matter how far your practice takes you. Ultimately, as she so eloquently puts it, “the pleasure is the practice — to touch the hem of the gown that is art itself”.

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I also had time over the weekend to plow through to the end of this latest piece in my post-Roe suite. I’m not sure yet whether or not it will be the last. Frankly, the three pieces have been emotionally exhausting.

Eroded Boundaries, detail ©2022 Elizabeth Fram By stitching first and letting the paint flow over those stitches, then adding another sewn layer after the painting is complete, I’ve tried to straddle a space where the stitching adds another dimension, without overpowering the image. In the end, I really love the textural quality of the paint and the stitches working together.

The iconic “No Trespassing” warning fades, underscoring the fact that with the overturn of Roe a conservative Supreme Court has dictated the erosion a woman’s right to physical autonomy in this country.

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Finally, I invite you to check out Pigeon Pages, an online literary journal featuring prose, poetry, author interviews and more. Each written piece is paired with an artwork. It’s a wonderful online rabbit hole of creative diversion. I am so pleased and gratified to have been contacted by their art editor who requested the use of an image of “Isolation”, one of my sheltering-in-place houses, to accompany Rachel Lloyd’s recent award-winning piece, “Unraveling”. Both pieces can be seen/read in their entirety, here.

Unraveling Header

Now that Thanksgiving is behind us, December will sweep by in a flurry. Wishing you a creative season of inspiration and perspiration before January arrives.