I left out about 6 dozen paintings I love from my list the other day. It's a game I'm not so good at. I'm much more interested in drawing and listening (Collins, Komar, and a bunch of other interesting folks this week) and working on that wheel nowadays.
Although this town practically reeks of lilacs, I'm still fascinated by Oxalis. Here's another page from the sketchbook.

Take care, Rachael

Talked tonight and showed his work. I'm thinking about it still and intrigued by the big bang work and his hopes for a Three Day Weekend. Those Russian artists are dreamers. It's inspiring how artists might try to tell their own stories through imagery that connects a bigger world. I have notes from this lecture, too, but am simply too tired to excerpt 'em or scan 'em or do anything but slip into a big sleep.
goodnight, Rachael

Tyler suggested art bloggers pick a favorite American Painting in an American collection (and any painting in an American collection) and truth be told, I can not be objective.

My favorites are those with personal connections, the paintings that I've stood in front of and have been changed by. This ain't no easy game for me but rather a good chance to turn folks on to paintings I love. I share them not to suggest they are the best but because you should go see them in person. Each image is a lot stronger than it appears digitally. To not swipe images, I'm linking not posting other museum's pictures. Just scraping the surface here and no more apologies but I suggest:

For the intensity of an honest, passionate portrait, Robert Henri's Portrait of an Art Student in Milwaukee.
For the glory of fall color and the spirit of the woods, Winslow Homer's Adirondack watercolors in the National Gallery and this one still in the Adirondacks.
For being such a quiet and powerfrul beauty, Charles Demuth's Zinnias in the National Gallery.
For being loud, dramatic and bold, this old favorite Feininger at MOMA.
For graphic simplicity, smart composition, and strong honest staying power, it's Jacob Lawrence's schoolgirls at MOMA and Ben Shahn's Sacco and Vanzetti at the Whitney.


Oh and I just recently stumbled onto the Walker Art Center's education and community programs blog.

I'm happy to report that the Billy Collins talk I went to the other night was a treat. He read a dozen or so poems, was 'interrogated' by a local radio loudmouth, and in general demonstrated a love and knowledge of the craft of poetry, of the art of words, and of communication and expression. I was impressed with his comfort in reading and in the stuff he read. So I listened and jotted notes and found myself returning to doodling his face and hands often. That happens when the speakers I'm listening to have expressive hands and the funning thing is that as I think about the talk, I can see an easy flow to my line that I don't always have.



There were good messages from Mr. Collins about working hard to make work that is honest, about how writers have a responsibility to readers and that readers, too, have work to do, and that humor is not simply a device but a way of living. (I think I have more thoughts about laughing your way through life, kids, and it's brewing, who knows when I'll approach this soapbox and tell some funny stories and ask some tricky questions and consider who gets the joke and who gets left out, but for today, I'll simply tease you and walk away). I do hafta go to work afterall.

But tonight I'll trim some of my lopsided bowls and ever so slowly growing cylinders (my teacher called one I threw yesterday a tumbler, and tumblers are taller than cylinders!) and see if I can articulate what I'm thinking of funny. This is funny.

see ya,
Rachael

As today is a day off and laundry day, I am very much aware that my recent obsession with learning how to work a potter's wheel is getting all my paint jeans covered in mud. It's a messy business and that's what I like. I've been scanning some stuff from my sketchbooks today, too, and finding that my drawings are morphing into designs for clay stuff.

I don't really have enough control over the material to make anything custom order to my own particular specifications, mind you. But I find it pretty freeing to imagine translating a three dimensional object (a tree) to two dimensions (drawing) and then back agin (to a vase).



Thanks, too, to Mark and others who reminded me to stop worrying and keep making. It's working out pretty well. Some sorting needed to be done (I'm almost to the point Keri was at, ready to trim my supplies to a discrete portable pack) and I managed to do some of it. I am headed tonight to see Billy Collins talk and I'll try to give a report about that.

take good care,
Rachael

Oh and the Oxalis drawing below is for Lisa who I hope will call me back...I miss her...