Where have I been?

Exploring space, thinking about the cold, wondering if my brain will freeze, buying stuff for people I love, making things for people I love, working, working, trying to keep warm, wondering if my time will open wide up again and I can think through the kind of thoughtful blog entry I'd like to have thought through.

Oh, and I went to the philharmonic yesterday and glancing to my left I noticed that I wasn't the only one inspired to sketch. Someone else, silently was drawing, too. Here's mine.

take good care and have a happy,

Rachael

I found the archives at work. The museum I work for has been devoted to education for years. Still happens like this sometimes. More and more the kids are asking more and more questions. They still wanna know, though. They still want to see.

And we still run beginning painting classes and some nights there are more easels than people.
When do we reach a point where we won't look wide eyes? Where we won't try painting? Where we are more afraid than excited to try new things?

I don't know either. I just love these old photos. It's a happy coincidience that this town is jam p[acked full of photographers and librarians.
Feels really good to be here.
We feel like we fit.
And if we can survive the holiday craziness with our brains and our hearts and our mittens in tact, we'll be OK.
How about you?

take good care,
Rachael

I'm still grinning from a very inspiring art for trade women's party in lovely Italy Valley, NY. My take was amazing! A glorious ceramic vase, knit hats, fresh pesto, scarves, books, and more plus an opportunity to chat with a collection of creative women working in the pockets of upstate new york. It's a reminder of the resourceful-ness of artists, of the need for community, and of the power of trade.

That a little painting I'd given up on, no longer felt connected to, really didn't want no more could make a stranger happy and willing to part with her handwoven hat is really a kick.

We do, as artists, have to live in the money trade but we do as artists have our own economy, too. Doesn't hurt to be reminded of it, says the girl with the fancy new necklace wearing the mohair kitty cat hat, warm and wooly...

see ya,
Rachael

The past few days have been a blur of birthday parties (my red headed freshly seven-year old neice had an Incredible party, travels across this great state, and bread baking. We're low on nickels lately (no surprise for two people who chose to work to connect people with art or help feed those who are really, always, truly low on nickels.) But fresh baked bread costs just a little and fills a belly up.

All the painters and sculptors and troublemakers, I've talked to lately have been breadmakers. My breadmaker is on it's final bake cycle with a loaf of coconut pineapple bread. That ought to be enough to make my co-workers like me at the office holiday pot luck. Nothing's going to get me a raise because...well I work in the arts. So, I'll just suck it up and send you off to look at pictures, make your own, or somehow sneak some joy into the edges of the mundane. Who says you can't take a long lunch break tomorrow? Who says you have to buy all that holiday crap and run around like an idiot? Not me, not me.

All of this bread baking and running around has me thinking about Dennis Oppenheim's Galloping Through the Wheat. I saw that piece a mess of years ago at a NY gallery and couldn't stop laughing and smiling. Still can conjure up those mechanical horses gliding through plain old big fat white bread. What a lovely blur. Reno press is here.

take care,
Rachael

A recent painting of mine below because one of the voyeuristic pleasures of this blog reading is seeing what folks are making, right? Is for me. So I simply offer my small show and tell moment and ask you to comment.

Trust me.

More related thoughts by other folks:

ritual in the art classroom
new forms of drawing, even if years old
no excuses for draw-ring with plain #2 pencils
more drawing education
hungry to go back to the Drawing Center

off to draw.

take care,
Rachael