you are invited, Monotype of the Day #488

Day 122 of Year 2 (Actually Day 123)

Every moment is an open invitation. If I am quiet, I hear my studio calling. So many times and places in my life I felt I did not belong. I think this must be a common feeling for artists. Ours is not the common path. We are lucky though, because we always have a place were we belong without question. The studio is always calling, always inviting us in. It is the place where we are wanted just as we are with faults and imperfections and, where we accept who we really are, beautifully imperfect partners in the pageant of creation.

The Fist
By Mary Oliver

There are days
when the sun goes down
like a fist,
though of course

if you see anything
in the heavens
in this way
you had better get

your eyes checked
or, better, still
your diminished spirit.
The heavens

have no fist,
or wouldn't they have been
shaking it
for a thousand years now,

and even
longer than that,
at the dull, brutish
ways of mankind—

heaven's own
creation?
Instead: such patience!
Such willingness

to let us continue!
To hear,
little by little,
the voices—

only, so far, in
pockets of the world—
suggesting
the possibilities

of peace?
Keep looking.
Behold, how the fist opens
with invitation.

From Thirst https://amzn.to/2O69o4m

wait a minute, Monotype of the Day #305

The past few days, I've had an idea pop into my head before I began to work. I consider these moments messages to follow. Tonight though, I wanted my hands to drive not my head. Hands have their own kind of intelligence and insight and in art the body is your partner. Yes I know there is conceptual art where, in some cases, the artist never actually touches their own piece. But this doesn't really interest me. I'm searching for the heart of our humanity, the precious beat that makes us who we are. The body is our inescapable partner in this so I make sure to regularly give it a voice and to listen. This is what she had to say today... Update: Listening to this print has given me my inspiration for tomorrow.
xo

Stillness, Monotype of the Day #263

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After making this print, this poem came to mind. I love the first book of the Sonnets to Orpheus so much. Rilke has such insight into the creative process.


Sonnets to Orpheus 1:1
Rilke


A tree ascended there. Oh pure transendence!
Oh Orpheus sings! Oh tall tree in the ear!
And all things hushed. Yet even in that silence
a new beginning, beckoning, change appeared.
Creatures of stillness crowded from the bright
unbound forest, out of their lairs and nests;
and it was not from any dullness, not
from fear, that they were so quiet in themselves,
but from just listening. Bellow, roar, shriek
seemed small inside their hearts. And where there had been
at most a makeshift hut to receive the music,
a shelter nailed up out of their darkest longing,
with an entryway that shuddered in the wind-
you built a temple deep inside their hearing.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell

Not now!, Monotype of the Day #243

Hospital print day 2 (fortunately I made my first day’s print at home in the morning. Just a feeling) Here’s the thing about the hospital, you think it’s a break from your daily life, but it’s not. The days you spend in the hospital are just as precious as any other day. The trick is reconciling yourself to your fate so you don’t suffer over suffering. Sometimes things are so bad a patient is just in survival mode. Barring that I’ve found the hospital to be filled mainly with charming people who spend their lives in service, some of the cream of humanity. While I would much rather be home and feeling well, I am determined to enjoy my stay as much as is possible. In other words, I’m keeping my crankiness to a minimum 😊😘

Fish Pile, Monotype of the Day #210

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Lately I’ve been experimenting with adding ink. Normally I ink a plate completely and then wipe away. It’s a somewhat mystical experience, seeing an image emerge from the dark. Today I tried to find more mystery in adding ink by using a very rough implement to decrease my control. I like my materials to have a say in the process. Art is really a conversation between mystery and the material world as represented by the artist’s medium of choice. Anyone who thinks materials don’t have something to say isn’t listening closely enough.