fire, Monotype of the Day #798

fire, monotype, 12 x 14” Sybil Archibald

fire, monotype, 12 x 14”
Sybil Archibald

Day 66 of year 3

My printing plate is just about out of gas. I've been using it every day for a couple of years. The paper is sticking to it and the ink is rebelling. I can't get a solid field of black. It's an interesting texture but I think I'll be replacing this plate soon. To be an artist often means being at the mercy of the physical world. The push and pull of materials is an active force during creation. Materials have purpose and desire, they have moods. Sometimes you get along with them and sometimes you fight. Tonight I fought a bit but in the end I let the ink and plate have their way. This evening, one of my favorite all time poems below. I've posted several time before and used as inspiration for my solo show last winter. I never get tired of reading it and the fire in this print is a good excuse!

This work is paired with "A Fish Cannot Drown in Water" by Mechthild de Magdeberg translated by Jane Hirshfield from The Enlightened Heart https://amzn.to/3hGQDRQ

the fountain, Monotype of the Day #794

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Day 62 of year 3

This is the ghost print from last night's plate with another layer on top. I've used tonight's poem by Rilke before but from a different translator who gives it a slightly different flavor. I so wish I could read it in the original German!

Sonnets to Orpheus II, XII By Rilke, Trans. Barrows and Macey

Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of the body as it turns away.

What locks itself in sameness has congealed.
Is it safer to be gray and numb?
What turns hard becomes rigid
and is easily shattered.

Pour yourself out like a fountain.
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking
finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.

Every happiness is the child of a separation
it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel,
dares you to become the wind.

From In Praise of Mortality https://amzn.to/33tnNiq

For more information on purchasing this monotype click here or see “Buy Art” in the menu above.

an earful, Monotype of the Day #793

Day 61 of year 3

This is a black ink print over an older color print. It's challenging to get the right color on darker prints when editing photo but this is pretty close. I like the mystery of it. It very much captures how I'm feeling right now. There are certain poems that call you back over and over. Tonight's poem by Lynn Ungar is one. If you haven't read her work, a link to her book is at the bottom and she publishes new poems on Facebook regularly.

Salvation
By Lynn Ungar

By what are you saved? And how?
Saved like a bit of string,
tucked away in a drawer?
Saved like a child rushed from
a burning building, already
singed and coughing smoke?
Or are you salvaged
like a car part — the one good door
when the rest is wrecked?

Do you believe me when I say
you are neither salvaged nor saved,
but salved, anointed by gentle hands
where you are most tender?
Haven’t you seen
the way snow curls down
like a fresh sheet, how it
covers everything,
makes everything
beautiful, without exception?

From Bread and Other Miracles https://amzn.to/3bUHvYA

For more information on purchasing this monotype click here or see “Buy Art” in the menu above.

you are welcomed, Monotype of the Day #791

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Day 59 of year 3

I have been feeling unsatisfied with my work the past couple of weeks. I'm sharing this because it a natural part of the process of working. Interestingly it doesn't necessarily correlate to the quality of the work. An artist can make phenomenal work and still not feel good about it. This is an internal state, part of being human. Just like in other areas of life, some days feel better than others for no good reason, some weeks are just bad. Maybe someday I'll look back on this period and like the work. It doesn't really matter though, what matters is being in the process- whatever it is at the moment good or bad. It can be easy to let frustrated or unsatisfied feelings overwhelm and become reasons to stop working. Working doesn't necessarily mean brush to canvas, it can also mean doing the internal work necessary to allow creativity to flow freely. Once you accept that these states as a normal part of the process, they are easier to be with. They become a passing moment in time rather than a blockade. You only have to wait and the well will fill again. Everything is cyclical. Trust, have patience, and the feeling of flow will return.

Birdsong Brings Relief
By Rumi, Translation Barks

Birdsong bring relief
to my longing.

I am just as ecstatic as they are,
but with nothing to say!

Please, universal soul, practice
some song, or something through me!

From The Essential Rumi https://amzn.to/3bKYTP6 

from seed to bloom, Monotype of the Day #787

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Day 55 of year 3

Saint Francis and the Sow
By Galway Kinnel

The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;   
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;   
as Saint Francis
put his hand on the creased forehead
of the sow, and told her in words and in touch   
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow   
began remembering all down her thick length,   
from the earthen snout all the way
through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail,   
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine   
down through the great broken heart
to the sheer blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering   
from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them:
the long, perfect loveliness of sow.

From Three Books https://amzn.to/3haC5JD

the conversation, Monotype of the day #763

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I pull a ghost print everyday. This uses up the excess ink on the plate and provides a nice base for a future print. Sometimes I use one sheet of paper for several days of ghost prints. The more the merrier as they say! But sometimes, like tonight, you pull a ghost and you know it's a keeper. I couldn't decide which I liked best. What do you think?

the conversation & the conversation ghost (below this post)
Day 31 of year 3 (Total project days 761)

The Further You Go by Andrew Colliver

Mercy, there have been revelations. Grace, there has been realisation. Still, you must travel the path of time and circumstance.

The further you go, the more it comes back to paying attention. The rough skin of the tallowwood, the trade routes of lorikeets, a sky lifting behind afternoon clouds. Staying close to the texture of things.

People can go before you and talk all they want, but only one thing makes sense: the way the world enters and finds its voice in you: the place you are free.

From The Longing In Between https://amzn.to/3kLNv9I

wings & the descent, Monotype of the Day #756

Day 24 of Year 3

I'm so happy! No more self portraits, at least for now. However, I am in a bit of a muddle, I'm in that in between stage, the ebb between two flows. Usually I feel a bit lost during these periods. The antidote to this is to keep working but forget about the product. I try to do this anyway, but it is so much more important in an ebb. If you focus on making good work in an ebb you will get frustrated.. This is a major cause of artist block. Instead, I am using this ebb to experiment. I desperately miss cadmium red light. It is such a passionate color and not available in my inks so I'm experimenting with acrylic paint. I had many disasters tonight- paper gluing itself to my plate and tearing, paint drying to quickly, etc. I was fun though. Here are a couple of my attempts. I've barely scratched the surface here. Looking forward to playing some more tomorrow. xo

print 1: wings

print 2: the descent

self portrait with bird, Monotype of the Day #755

Day 23 of Year 3

Another self portrait. I'll be exited when this topic plays itself out but for now, I submit to what is given.

I Worried
By Mary Oliver

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.

From Swan: Poems and Prose Poems https://amzn.to/31peMGf 

mask & polishing the mirror, Monotype of the Day #753

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752.jpg

Day 21 of Year 3

One of the challenges of making art publicly is staying true to your inner voice. Praise can sometimes be a bit of a siren song. Once an artist knows something sells or gets a good response, there is a natural and unconscious tendency to want to continue to produce work that pleases. I've been pouring over the older images in this project in preparation for my book. In the past, I often worked one theme sometimes for weeks. Today I realized that recently I have been unconsciously limiting that practice because I'm worried people might get bored. Luckily, now that I am aware of this, I can release that behavior. I want to listen completely to my inner creative flow without imposing external control. My time in the studio is always a spiritual training and I find that usually external limits come from a place of fear. So tonight's images feel very risky to me, they are different and I'm not sure if they are good, but I'm putting them out there anyway. This project shows what happens on a nightly basis, the good, the bad and the ugly- it's all a necessary part of the process. xo

Print 1: mask

Print 2: polishing the mirror (ghost of the underlayer of image 1)

whoosh and hum, Monotype of the Day #752

Day 21 of Year 3

This is another one of those images that comes back to me in different ways. These ghostly birds stir something inside with their rustling wings blowing things around. Making them, I feel it internally, the movement of ancient dust being whipped up and stacks of paper flying everywhere. A little chaos is sometimes necessary to provide a chance for new growth, new structures, and a healthier internal world.

The Second Music
By Annie Lighthart

Now I understand that there are two melodies playing,
one below the other, one easier to hear, the other

lower, steady, perhaps more faithful for being less heard
yet always present.

When all other things seem lively and real,
this one fades. Yet the notes of it

touch as gently as fingertips, as the sound
of the names laid over each child at birth.

I want to stay in that music without striving or cover.
If the truth of our lives is what it is playing,

the telling is so soft
that this mortal time, this irrevocable change,

becomes beautiful. I stop and stop again
to hear the second music.

I hear the children in the yard, a train, then birds.
All this is in it and will be gone. I set my ear to it as I would to a heart.

From Iron String https://amzn.to/2EDysOU (which I have just ordered!)
Found on http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2015/11/annie-lighthart-second-music.html
http://www.annielighthart.com/