Do we ever truly know all the secrets hidden in our neighborhoods?

Granted that I'm still new around here but I keep finding that there are plenty of smart painters around here and other artists blogging and creative people drawing and sharing daily. This is a creative community and lookit, Mike K.is coming to town.

Today I heard a seven year old girl sing, "I love to draw, I love to draw, I love to, I love, I love to...DRAW!" over and over and over again. Why do so many people lose that? What fer?

This stuff...the making, the messing, the sharing, the changing, the connecting...is the important stuff. Isn't it?

"I love to draw, I love to draw, I love to, I love, I love to...DRAW!"
"I love to draw, I love to draw, I love to, I love, I love to...DRAW!"
"I love to draw, I love to draw, I love to, I love, I love to...DRAW!"

Below is an attempt, sloppy but fun, to draw in photoshop. I'll be sticking to my pencil and paintbrush mostly but we learn by trying and changing, growing and going, more soon...

Keep singing it, kids, and take good care,
Rachael

My work inspires my art. The work I do is never very far from the art I make. It's all one big messy pile and I do see similar truths in the lives of other working artists I know. I love stories about how others weave their art into their lives (like this guy at google , a story I saw on the new flashy and smart artkrush).

Every day this week I have met an amazing person who with perserverance (the true characteristic of an artist?), wit, and a smile makes magical things. I might be (ok, I am) tired at the end of the day, but I know that I do work I believe in and I treat people fairly. It was a treat to read Keri's experience creating while she day jobbed (part time) recently and of course, a kick to hear all the compliments from all of my co-workers. Compliments never hurt.

I'm done reading Maxwell and now am back intoThoreau, edging my way through Economy and thinking about
the scary truth about hunger in this country and how the statistics about the working poor are scary.

So, again, I pick up my paintbrush and stand on my soapbbox and wonder how I can help in any small way. A painting in trade for anyone who makes a hefty donation to their local foodbank? Not a bad idea...Wanna take me up on that?

see ya,
Rachael

Rochester's daily paper, The Democrat and Chronicle, has been running a series of artist profiles in their Living section for the past few months. I am this week's featured artist. We'd have a great awareness of how much art was made in this country if every local paper ran a feature like this (it's very easy to be considered if you are a Rochester area artist, you just need to do a little bit of paperwork)...

I'm glad they chose to focus on the angle they did, it really did take me many years from the time my painting teacher looked me in the eye and said, "you are an artist," to the day when I trusted that about myself. That development (wouldn't say it's over yet, either) didn't happen in isolation but because I had access to a community of creative people through the art schools, non-profit art centers, the museums, the fellow artists, and the teachers and students I've met. My point is, frankly, that I have never seen anyone born an artist but I have seen plenty of people work hard to learn how to make art and spend a lot of time making it. The reason I am constantly working to de-mystify the role of the artist is because I pretty firmly believe that hard work trumps talent, that drawing is a learnable skill, and the whole process is (forgetting for the moment the paintings that are driving me crazy right now) amazing.

I'm off to draw, finish my book (So Long, See you Tomorrow), and try not to let my newly puffed ego get in the way. One of my Atlanta weed paintings, Another Humid Acre, is below, for no good reason except that not many have seen it...

take good care,
Rachael



In case there are folks coming to this blog from the D&C article, I'll point you to my other website which has more art and trouble on it, including some small paintings for sale. If you are new here, just scroll down and follow the earlier entries links to peruse. This blog is over a year old and full of entries about all sorts of things, and their are links to a bunch of other interesting artist and art related blogs and sites to the side there. I'm actively looking for upstate art blogs so let me know if you know of any, and welcome!

Today was a treat. Sunny and springlike with a few hours in the middle of the day to enjoy a writers lunch with a bunch of interesting people and Andrea Barrett. She had asked us to read William Maxwell's short story, The Thistles in Sweden. That little story held me captive while I read it, left me with my eyes open when I was done, and plain baffled. But the clear, close reading, the language and the excitement of our guide, and the insights of the other readers and writers in the room left me with a much deeper understanding of how Maxwell used objects, voice, memory, synopsis and particularly detail to make a bold an beautiful point about human nature.

The rest of my day unfolded in the same sort of magically mundane way as the story, reminding me again how objects and people, things and their stories weave themselves into my world. I noticed:

When the snow melts around here, the streets are filled with random scraps of paper, fast food cups (why do I see a cup from Wendy's at the same moment I'm thinking of my friend Wendy?), old socks, broken toys, strange, abandoned things...

Years ago, I picked up all that stuff, especially that spatula I found by the side of the road, run down and beaten up or the iron on the railroad tracks. I painted those things directly, as in the old painting I'm not too proud of now (think it's blue and green but I can't remember, and only have this black and white hanging around now). Abandoned stuff keeps cropping up in my paintings, my travels, and now the stories I am drawn to read.



I'm off to read more Maxwell ( W.G. Sebald was also recommended), more drawing, more hoping for spring...

take good care,
Rachael

I posted more paintings on the little pretties page.

Mark emailed me this info about a great sounding event in his neck of the woods (near Penland, North Carolina) and I'm wishing I was closer and could get there tomorrow night. The images did make me laugh and his e-mail makes some very good points.

In our area, there is such a focus and pretense on the sacredness of
the handmade object i couldn't take it any more! SO serious...and
between that and the commercial aspect of craft as a living, i finally
decided to respond to it. so, i have my stuff, and got together 5
other artists with a sense of humor and a willingness to break the
"rules" of the local arts community, and we're doing a show tomorrow
night at a restaurant in town. Unsponsered, unsupported, unruly. I
have sculpture and collages, k has fiber (in the form of extreme
knitted sculptural hats), a friend of mine that does glass has some
giant eating utensils (blown and cast), another friend has these mixed
media artists books (i think theres an audio component involved in
each), a metal sculpture or two, and a painter. we're also having 2
poets do readings, and me and one other person will do instant poems on
demand. finally, i think we have a BIG (6'x6') canvas stretched and
ready for some particpatory art/mess making. and who knows what else.

Everyday I am more convinced of the importance of organizing artists together in cooperative communities (smack dab in the middle of ordinary communities), of messing with expectations, of avoiding getting any chips on my shoulder as an artist or as a human being. With all the stresses (economic, social, artistic, otherwise) artists have, I do understand the need some of us have to assume the work we do is crucial to the survival of the species...but...um. It is not. Art is incredibly important but there's room for more than one watercolorist in any one place, there's no reason to believe that there is only one way to depict a landscape, and I firmly believe that art ought not be a specialized subject of erudite learning but a living, breathing, messy and magical endeavor.

The truly amazing artists I've known (and know) have somehow managed to make work that grows, changes, engages and connects over a long span of time. And they've raised families, lived in communities, done good things.

Holy pig butt!

take good care,
Rachael