Tag Archives: Art juice

Breathing Deeply

Working on the stitched watercolor garden pieces this summer has been just the break I had hoped for while simultaneously opening the door to new explorations. It’s been like taking a deep breath. There’s nothing quite as fun (or as good a stretch for the brain) as pushing toward some sort of new evolution and seeing where those explorations might lead.

Rounding the Bend ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and stitching on paper, 5 x 5 inches. I haven’t posted new pieces from this series since the beginning of July. Time to catch you up! You can revisit all the pieces on my website.

Coincidentally, in catching up on older podcasts, I recently listened to Alice Sheridan and Louise Fletcher of Art Juice talk about “Kickstarting Creativity by Taking a Break”. That doesn’t necessarily mean taking a rest from making art altogether (although it could), but rather creating an interruption by switching gears to something different.

Having now returned from their month-long respite, it’s worth listening to their follow-up episode, “A Time for Reflection”, as they discuss some of their realizations from their time away.

It’s an honest conversation about an artist’s life, dipping into elements and responses that are familiar to all of us.

For my part, I’m grateful for the sense of camaraderie that comes when others share about issues we may have in common. At the end of the day we’re all just trying to make a go of a creative life – why not travel together?

In considering my own, shall we say, intermission from the work of last year, not only has the painting itself been equal parts challenging and rewarding, but the incorporation of the embroidered houses has provided a welcome sense of grounding and continuity while still allowing me to find new ways to play around with the idea of something “hidden in plain sight”.

I’ve completed a dozen of these little stitched paintings to date and expect to keep going in some form or another. I took a first stab at what moving beyond the “safety” of the houses might look like in this little close-up of my daughter’s Maranta leuconeura. The question that is floating around in the back of my head now is how might I let the stitching on paper branch into portraits.

Basically, texture is at the root of my interest. It’s the textural effects of the stitching, together with the visual texture of the paint on paper, that most intrigues me.
Meanwhile, I’ve begun a new shibori piece and expect to be back at my frame embroidering on cloth in earnest, just as soon as the dyeing is complete.

6 “Bests” For 2021

As a final post for 2020, let me offer something short and sweet to either close-out the old year, or to begin the one (depending on when you’re reading this).

Our niece adopted a quarantine puppy! While I’m looking forward to the day when I will be able to meet Mavis in person, it was almost as much fun to work on a drawing of her as a Christmas present.

I’m a sucker for “best of” lists because they always prove to be a source of new inspiration in one way or another. So in that spirit, I’d like to share a bit of the wealth that has brightened the past year for me. I hope something in this grouping will catch your eye and lift up your 2021.

Best Podcast: Art Juice
Louise Fletcher and Alice Sheridan always seem to have something interesting to talk about, whether it’s on the business or practical side of art. I learned a lot from them in 2020 and always enjoy their down-to-earth and unassuming approach.

Runner Up: City Arts & Lectures
Their tag line says it best: “conversations with outstanding figures in literature, politics, criticism, science and the performing arts, offering the most diverse perspectives about ideas and values”.

At various stages along the way, I like to take pictures to map my progress. Sometimes I can catch missteps in a photo that I don’t see when just looking at the drawing in the flesh, which helps me to reign in any problems before a piece goes awry.

Best Art Blog: Susan Abbott’s Painting Notes Blog
Susan’s knack for writing about her own work while weaving in a healthy and palatable dose of art history offers insights that are always inspiring — a testament to her teaching ability. She doesn’t write all that regularly, but it’s a red-letter day when a new post appears because it is guaranteed to contain some nugget that I will continue to think about for days afterward.

Best Newsletter: Gaye Symington’s Morning Messages
I read Gaye’s almost-daily “newsletters” first thing each day to start my morning on a positive note. Her efforts are a gift. They are a reminder that despite all the bad news that will undoubtably surface as the day wears on, there is still much beauty and joy to celebrate, right in our own backyards. Gaye includes images and links that touch on art, the natural world, and the many folks who work hard at bringing light to the rest of us. Plus, she always closes with a poem.

Laying in marks like this is a lot like stitching. In many ways, working at one discipline feeds my practice of the other, making them mutually beneficial.

Best Books:
It’s hard to attach the label “best” to any one book, but here are my top 10 of the 50 I’ve read this year. Many are not new, and some I’ve touched on in previous posts — here, here, & here. But as I look back, I realize that these were the books that brought me the most solace and insight during this wild year.

- - Circe by Madeline Miller
  - Unsheltered by Barbara Kingsolver
  - Afterlife by Julia Alvarez
  - Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
  - The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
  - Keep Going by Austin Kleon
  - Breath by James Nestor
  - Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton
  - Virgil Wander by Leif Enger
  - A Month in Siena by Hisham Matar
  - And BONUS: Material: Making and the Art of Transformation – How Working with Our Hands Makes us Human by Nick Kary (thanks Pam!) This was my last book of the year and a lovely way to close things out. It is a beautifully written meditation on making, tools, and materials, with a measure of history thrown in.

And finally,
Best New (to me) Concept: The “Not-To-Do List”
I happened upon this idea last month when reading an old, old post by Lisa Call. It’s a worthwhile twist to consider while planning your goals and solutions for 2021…whatever they may be.

Thanks for reading and Happy New Year!

Marking This Period Of Time

Among other things, one of the phenomena of the past weeks that seems to be universal is how hard it is to keep track of time, a fact that is hitting close to home. Even though both my husband and I have kept to our regular schedules (there’s been no break in his work routine so, for the most part, my days also appear unchanged), I still find my sense of time is warped.

For the past several weeks I’ve been working on a piece for an upcoming exhibit entitled “Sheltering in Place”. While I was figuring out how to construct the little house I will be including, I began with this template. As often happens, things change. As you can see below, rather than all being connected, the sides and roof of the house were created separately and will be sewn together in the next step.

Counterintuitively, with no out-of-the-house activities, no outside meetings, no visits to exhibitions or “art dates” with friends…heck, no activities at all beyond walking the dog and going to the grocery store and post office, the weeks seem to fly by. And yet, when I think back to something only a week past, it seems like months ago. This must be partially due to the general lack of variety between days, and I’m sure the unrelenting quick-fire news cycle also contributes. But whatever the cause, it’s been disorienting.

Color is always a major consideration for any piece, but I wanted to be sure that the dye pattern was obvious, yet not overpowering. This light blue with tones of rust was perfect.

Listening to podcasts while stitching has been my touchstone with the outside world and a means for gaining perspective. I’m listing a few below that have been particularly helpful.

Back in March, Gretchen Rubin of Happier recommended keeping a coronavirus journal — not necessarily a written diary, but some way of marking this unusual time. What I find most helpful about her suggestion is it is malleable enough to accommodate whatever need each of us feels during this time. When we emerge on the other side, as we will, the details that feel so important and pervasive right now will be easily forgotten. I’d rather not forget.

Aside from strict size specifications, the curator’s directive was only that each piece reflect “our individual experiences during this dramatic time in our collective history”. Obviously, our isolation with Quinn is my everyday story. My goal for the piece is to show that despite our isolation, we remain very much connected to family and friends elsewhere. I debated about including the heart, wondering if it would be a little too sweet, but ultimately decided it needs to be there as a symbol of the root of our connection. I’m not sure if I will sew lines or have some sort of connective cords coming out from the heart, wrapping around the sides to various points on the maps.

For one artist’s solution, check out Elizabeth Le Serviget’s approach to remembering each day. It’s clever without being all-consuming. And, if you have time while on the Highland Center for the Arts website, take a few moments to treat yourself to exploring the work of all the artists who have submitted to “The Show Must Go On-Line”, a virtual gallery where artists show work and briefly discuss how their practice has been affected in the past months. This is but another example of how art entities are resourcefully maintaining engagement despite being shuttered.

Our family and friends are both near and far flung. I have filled in each state where loved one(s) reside and have been sheltering in place themselves.

If you’re struggling with concentration or with work in general, you aren’t alone. Artists Louise Fletcher and Alice Sheridan address their COVID-19 experiences, their changes in working habits, sense of malaise, and general frustration in Episode #69 “Frayed nerves, broken glass, and really…what’s the point?” on their podcast Art Juice. Their down-to-earth manner leaves one feeling less adrift and more hopeful.

It’s hard to tell from these photos, but each of these pieces (sides of the house) will wrap around a supportive layer, and then be sewn together into a 3-D house shape. The photo below should give you a better idea of what I mean.

Perhaps my favorite listen so far has been “Jenny Odell on nature, art and burnout in quarantine” on The Ezra Klein Show. She talks about living in the world right now, the role of art in this moment, why we undervalue the most important work in our society (so key!), where to find beauty right now, the tensions of productivity, and the melting of time. So much to absorb and so worth it…fascinating and important on all those many levels. (Thanks Stu)

We have a nephew who is in Norway and friends in London. This back piece refers to the fact that the pandemic knows no borders. I think that is the thought that has most made me stop to catch my breath…there isn’t a human on earth who hasn’t been affected.

And for anyone who is a fan of El Anatsui’s work, especially fiber artists, The Lonely Palette’s re-release of Episode 15: El Anatsui’s “Black River” is superb. Host Tamar Avishai’s description of the unique qualities of working with textiles is spot-on, giving the medium the articulate and sensitive recognition that is all too often lacking. One can’t help but think about the inherent, labor and time-intensive nature of many textile processes and how becoming lost in the flow of the making is yet another means of warping time.

Finally, it seemed just the right moment to reread one of my favorites: May Sarton’s 1973 Journal of a Solitude. I tried to absorb it in a slow and measured way, but each entry was so insightful that it was like eating popcorn — no stopping. Aside from the obvious link with our current experience of isolation, it also resonates for its quiet observations that shine a light on the comfort to be found in the most ordinary of life’s occurrences (e.g. the changing seasons, light falling just so on flowers from the garden, a pet’s morning greeting), the things that act like glue, holding both good times and bad together.

Lynn ©2020 Elizabeth Fram, Graphite, ink, and colored pencil on paper, 12 x 9 inches. Meanwhile, my selfie project continues… this time with Lynn who is an avid birder. Since she was dressed all in beige in her photo, it seemed a good time to try out a new, tan-toned paper. But I wasn’t thinking and forgot that the sheet was just a bit too big for my scanner bed – which is why the image appears slightly cropped here. I did take a shot of the complete image, but for some reason it didn’t record the tan of the paper as well as in the scanned image. I thought seeing the tan ground was more important here than the tiny bit of the drawing that ended up being cropped.

It’s human nature to want to find ways to mark the passage of time and certain points within it, to remember, to be able to look back and make sense of a confusing and uncertain period. I wonder how you are choosing to do so, and how your choice is affecting your experience right now. There will be much wealth in the art that emerges in the months and years ahead. My hope is that it will lead us toward a better understanding of how, going forward, the pandemic has changed not just the world around us, but the core of ourselves.