- Published on
My Quarantine Journal is taking a serious back seat the last couple of weeks to this book project, but I figure it's always good to go with the thing that's strongly calling your name (unless you're on a different kind of deadline). It's good to be able to ride a bit of momentum on a project too. I'm having a lot of fun with this book and simultaneously trying to figure out how to push it on out into the world once I'm done. It's so local that I'll likely self publish, but I'm exploring a few options at the moment. It feels like a lot of years' worth of sketching in the forest have really come together all at once in my head. I'm grateful for the gift of that, unexpected and lovely.
- Published on
I lived the first 15 years in this house without a screened in porch, and mosquitoes in Memphis are pretty fierce. A decade ago I finally tacked one on to the back of the house, just off the kitchen. The space was pretty small, so it contains a table and two chairs plus a one person hammock chair, and that's really all it can manage. But it has a blue ceiling, a ceiling fan, and lots of birdsong.
With the stay at home spring and my new-found fascination with birds, I've been eating more and more meals out there through the temperate part of the year. Sometimes it feels like a lot of trouble to carry things out, but I never regret it. Now I've got this new illustration project going, and, unlike my printing, it's beautifully portable. I've carried stacks of sketchbooks, my ipad, and my paints outside, and I've been spending all day making art on my porch. It's a delight. Yesterday, after my brain had shut off for serious work, I decided I wanted to put this period in my Quarantine Journal. The sketch isn't my best, but it does show you the chaotic, colorful process of illustration. The stack of sketchbooks are to look back at on-site sketches from the forest, done over years, to refresh my memory and keep the book vivid. I'm having a ball working on this project.
With the stay at home spring and my new-found fascination with birds, I've been eating more and more meals out there through the temperate part of the year. Sometimes it feels like a lot of trouble to carry things out, but I never regret it. Now I've got this new illustration project going, and, unlike my printing, it's beautifully portable. I've carried stacks of sketchbooks, my ipad, and my paints outside, and I've been spending all day making art on my porch. It's a delight. Yesterday, after my brain had shut off for serious work, I decided I wanted to put this period in my Quarantine Journal. The sketch isn't my best, but it does show you the chaotic, colorful process of illustration. The stack of sketchbooks are to look back at on-site sketches from the forest, done over years, to refresh my memory and keep the book vivid. I'm having a ball working on this project.
- Published on
I've really been enjoying carrying a sketchbook and my Sailor fude fountain pen on my morning walks in the park. I'm mostly sketching the forest, but the above right is the newly closed, much lamented Memphis College of Art, where I took a couple of classes on printmaking that changed the trajectory of my career.
Today I saw a bunny skipping across the path in front of me. He didn't stay around for me to sketch, but I got my book out immediately, drew him from that image in my mind, and drew the path in front of me as well. Later in the walk I followed the owl around the forest, though again in fleeting ways. I wrote down the experience so I'd have it in the place where I'm recording these forest impressions this spring.
Today I saw a bunny skipping across the path in front of me. He didn't stay around for me to sketch, but I got my book out immediately, drew him from that image in my mind, and drew the path in front of me as well. Later in the walk I followed the owl around the forest, though again in fleeting ways. I wrote down the experience so I'd have it in the place where I'm recording these forest impressions this spring.
- Published on
I'm feeling a bit back to my workaholic, immersive self for the first time since March. I've been getting work done, but it hasn't been that really deep dive that I'm used to. Then I got this idea, which grew from a combination of my Quarantine Journal and walking almost every day with my sketchpad in the forest. I've really been enjoying working on a new book project, even if I'm not sure where to take it when I'm done.
Plus this is much more portable than my printing press work. The weather has been flat out gorgeous this week, so I've been carrying out a whole stack of sketchbooks with years' worth of forest sketches to the table on my back porch. I've been sitting out there enjoying the breeze and the birdsong and doing this project. It's been a joy.
Plus this is much more portable than my printing press work. The weather has been flat out gorgeous this week, so I've been carrying out a whole stack of sketchbooks with years' worth of forest sketches to the table on my back porch. I've been sitting out there enjoying the breeze and the birdsong and doing this project. It's been a joy.
- Published on
Rather unintentionally, here are my two new main pursuits across one spread of the Quarantine Journal. I've always enjoyed birds but have never watched them as intently and intentionally as I have this spring. Likewise I have always enjoyed tomatoes, and I've had an herb bed in the past, but I'm not much of a gardener. I put in a new herb bed (the old one had been totally overgrown after several years of way too much travel), added tomatoes (which I've tried without success before, but we'll see), and added a few blueberry bushes and a fig tree. Also things I've tried before and killed. Although in my defense, the fig tree was doing fine until a large masonry wall fell on top of it, which I don't count as a mark against my gardening skills.
I've gotten decoyed off the journal in recent days as I have dived headlong into the forest ABC book. I tend to do immersion in new projects while the energy is flowing and the images in my head are fresh. But tonight I have my first few tomatoes ready to pick, so I thought I would celebrate. The outdoor tomato plants are behind the curve, but this one pot is sitting in the window in my laundry room. I thought I'd try one that the squirrels couldn't get to. So far that's been a success.
I've gotten decoyed off the journal in recent days as I have dived headlong into the forest ABC book. I tend to do immersion in new projects while the energy is flowing and the images in my head are fresh. But tonight I have my first few tomatoes ready to pick, so I thought I would celebrate. The outdoor tomato plants are behind the curve, but this one pot is sitting in the window in my laundry room. I thought I'd try one that the squirrels couldn't get to. So far that's been a success.
- Published on
I’m continuing work on the Old Forest alphabet book this week and having such fun doing it. It starts with sketches in the forest on my daily walk, though I’m having to use photos for most of the birds. I’ve sketched some, but many won’t hold still for me that long. I’ve got years’ worth of sketchbooks with forest sketches spread out on my back porch table at the moment. Since the weather is lovely, I’m taking advantage of it and working outside. This is a nicely small, portable project that lends itself beautifully to the back porch. The waterproof ink is taking ages to dry, so I wait overnight to erase any pencil and scan in the black and white (I’m pondering a coloring book to go with it) before getting out the paints. I’ve only got one double spread painted so far, but the majority is drawn out and inked now, which feels good. I haven’t felt this much like my old workaholic self since March, so I’m enjoying the project immersion, whether or not this really goes anywhere.
It’s a right feeling side note to my Walter Anderson Museum work too. I’ve been dipping into Anderson’s Horn Island Logs, and I’ve realized that Overton Park is my (blessedly easier to get to) Horn Island. The place I continue to visit and paint that continually inspires me. Anderson did at least one children’s book as well. All of this feels like an appropriate journey to be on ahead of my show at his museum. And I, very gratefully, have time for a bit of a tangent. I’m also hoping that this energy helps me refocus on the prints as well once I get the ideas here out on paper before I lose them.
The birding has really played into this project as well and given it a richness. Two years ago I played around with ideas for an alphabet book of trees, but broadening it out to include my daily forest encounters is much better. I’ve also more narrowly focused it on the forest I walk in daily instead of it being North America writ large. Much better and more personal, and much more in line with Anderson too. Sometimes ideas have to kick around a while to fully ripen. Staying home and deeply paying attention to my surroundings this spring have really let this idea grow into its own.
It’s a right feeling side note to my Walter Anderson Museum work too. I’ve been dipping into Anderson’s Horn Island Logs, and I’ve realized that Overton Park is my (blessedly easier to get to) Horn Island. The place I continue to visit and paint that continually inspires me. Anderson did at least one children’s book as well. All of this feels like an appropriate journey to be on ahead of my show at his museum. And I, very gratefully, have time for a bit of a tangent. I’m also hoping that this energy helps me refocus on the prints as well once I get the ideas here out on paper before I lose them.
The birding has really played into this project as well and given it a richness. Two years ago I played around with ideas for an alphabet book of trees, but broadening it out to include my daily forest encounters is much better. I’ve also more narrowly focused it on the forest I walk in daily instead of it being North America writ large. Much better and more personal, and much more in line with Anderson too. Sometimes ideas have to kick around a while to fully ripen. Staying home and deeply paying attention to my surroundings this spring have really let this idea grow into its own.
- Published on
A couple of years ago I "plotted out" a tree alphabet book. I love trees and nature and draw all the time in the Old Forest in Memphis's historic Overton Park. I even started a print (I was thinking linocut), but it felt a little forced, and I abandoned it. This year's Quarantine Journal, dog walk sketches, and new interest in birding all have me thinking back to that project. So over the last couple of days I have laid out an ABC of the Old Forest. Broader in species, but more specific in place. That feels like a good combination to me. I'll have to get a bit deeper into it to see how I really feel about it, but I'm having a good time so far.
- Published on
I think many people are seeing their surroundings more deeply and in new ways this year. I have always loved the forest and found inspiration there, but more and more I am seeing the fleeting birds as well as the steady trees. Jude recently sent me Sibley's big bird guide, and it has been a delight. Then yesterday, after I posted about the heron nests, a facebook friend named Leslie wrote me and said she was clearing out some family things and would I like a pair of binoculars. I was both touched and delighted. Her mom isn't well, and they've been downsizing. I remember finding happy homes for some of my family things after turning my dining room into a printing press room instead. It meant a lot to have people enjoy those things I wasn't using, instead of just dumping them at a charity. I told Leslie, kind enough to bring them that very day, that I would think of her and her mom Virginia as I used the binoculars.
They're perfect. So exactly what I needed. I went straight to the heron nests again and watched the babies. The mother wasn't around, but the babies were edging gingerly along the branches, preening, shaking out their wings, and generally putting on a show. I took a chair (always in my car now, for visiting friends outdoors without having to touch anyone else's things) and sat and watched and sketched in my lap. It was a delightful evening. This morning over breakfast I did a picture of the book and binoculars for the journal. They certainly deserve prominence at this time. And I also want to remember the kindness of a near stranger who follows my art reaching out and giving me another tool to make it.
They're perfect. So exactly what I needed. I went straight to the heron nests again and watched the babies. The mother wasn't around, but the babies were edging gingerly along the branches, preening, shaking out their wings, and generally putting on a show. I took a chair (always in my car now, for visiting friends outdoors without having to touch anyone else's things) and sat and watched and sketched in my lap. It was a delightful evening. This morning over breakfast I did a picture of the book and binoculars for the journal. They certainly deserve prominence at this time. And I also want to remember the kindness of a near stranger who follows my art reaching out and giving me another tool to make it.
- Published on
It was a magical day today. I took my bike down to the farmers market, and I did an extra loop through a gorgeous old neighborhood in Memphis to look at the houses and get a little extra exercise. This week I hit 300 miles on my bike for the year so far. For some of my friends, that's small potatoes, but since I didn't learn to ride until last summer, it's been worth celebrating. So I need to do at least that again before the end of the year!
Not only did I see some lovely old houses, but I saw some lovely old friends as well. I had two very good chats with people I hadn't seen since all this craziness started. That was good enough, but then Kevin and Erin told me about two heron nests in the neighborhood -- that I'd been whizzing underneath on my bike without realizing for some weeks now, watching houses and traffic instead.
It was glorious. They're right out over the sidewalk, so anyone can stop to watch (and the neighbors out were really kind about it, even pointing out the second nest I hadn't spotted yet). The babies are huge, almost fledged. I'm so glad I got there in time to see them. And one of the mamas walked down a branch and took a bath/preened herself for a long time. I got a great look at different angles of her head and beak and gorgeous long plumage that wouldn't be out of place at Ascot.
My bike was mostly falling over, too heavy with all my produce for the week for the kickstand to hold, so I was juggling it, and then my fountain pen started leaking badly as I was drawing. I finally did totally lose control of the bike, and it went over onto the pavement. I had a couple of busted peaches as a snack when I finally got home. And you can see fingerprints and smudges all over the sketchbook page. But my sketches are better than the super small i-phone photos I got -- the herons are way high up. I did get one short video of the joyful cacophony in one of the nests, which I'm adding at the bottom for fun. I'm so grateful for this new focus on birds through the quiet, at home spring. It's been a gorgeous new facet of the world to learn about and pay attention to.
I spent a lot of the rest of the day (lunch and work) at the back porch table with birdsong and the fan (and, realistically, a couple of really loud leaf blowers nearby for a bit). I just started a second volume of the Quarantine Journal (top image, the neat one) -- I finished the first book I had started. I used my messy sketches and also my new Sibley bird book to double check colors some. I'm so grateful I'd thought to tuck in my sketchbook when I left this morning. I wanted this magical day in my big and colorful journal where I would remember it.
Not only did I see some lovely old houses, but I saw some lovely old friends as well. I had two very good chats with people I hadn't seen since all this craziness started. That was good enough, but then Kevin and Erin told me about two heron nests in the neighborhood -- that I'd been whizzing underneath on my bike without realizing for some weeks now, watching houses and traffic instead.
It was glorious. They're right out over the sidewalk, so anyone can stop to watch (and the neighbors out were really kind about it, even pointing out the second nest I hadn't spotted yet). The babies are huge, almost fledged. I'm so glad I got there in time to see them. And one of the mamas walked down a branch and took a bath/preened herself for a long time. I got a great look at different angles of her head and beak and gorgeous long plumage that wouldn't be out of place at Ascot.
My bike was mostly falling over, too heavy with all my produce for the week for the kickstand to hold, so I was juggling it, and then my fountain pen started leaking badly as I was drawing. I finally did totally lose control of the bike, and it went over onto the pavement. I had a couple of busted peaches as a snack when I finally got home. And you can see fingerprints and smudges all over the sketchbook page. But my sketches are better than the super small i-phone photos I got -- the herons are way high up. I did get one short video of the joyful cacophony in one of the nests, which I'm adding at the bottom for fun. I'm so grateful for this new focus on birds through the quiet, at home spring. It's been a gorgeous new facet of the world to learn about and pay attention to.
I spent a lot of the rest of the day (lunch and work) at the back porch table with birdsong and the fan (and, realistically, a couple of really loud leaf blowers nearby for a bit). I just started a second volume of the Quarantine Journal (top image, the neat one) -- I finished the first book I had started. I used my messy sketches and also my new Sibley bird book to double check colors some. I'm so grateful I'd thought to tuck in my sketchbook when I left this morning. I wanted this magical day in my big and colorful journal where I would remember it.
- Published on
It was a glorious morning in the forest. I had been stopping by the tree where I saw the owl to check for her every time I passed (reminding myself of my beloved, deeply optimistic first dog who checked under a car every day for six months after seeing a cat under it once). It turns out optimism is sometimes warranted. She was there again today, and once again stayed to watch and chat with me. I've been taking my sketchbook religiously on the off chance, so I got to draw her from life. The black and white one was done on site, and then I found the rare gift of a very late wood poppy. Mostly they stopped blooming a month ago, so it was delightful to sit and sketch it as well, spending time with the unexpected beauty. Over lunch I pulled them together and sketched the rabbit I also saw from memory, since he didn't stay around long enough for me to sketch from life.
I also picked the first of my blueberries from my new bushes today. I was more delighted before something came along after and knocked off almost all the rest of the green berries. I put up some netting and wished I'd gotten to it the day before. We'll see if it helps. But I had five lovely little berries at the end of my lunch after drawing them. I wasn't expecting any the first year, so I shouldn't mind the loss really.
I also picked the first of my blueberries from my new bushes today. I was more delighted before something came along after and knocked off almost all the rest of the green berries. I put up some netting and wished I'd gotten to it the day before. We'll see if it helps. But I had five lovely little berries at the end of my lunch after drawing them. I wasn't expecting any the first year, so I shouldn't mind the loss really.
