Quote of the Day: Ask Lucy

This is definitely art galleriable.

4 year old Lucy

After Christmas, my daughters and I were visiting among the boxes of ornaments and decorations when Lucy called us to attention. "Now be quiet, everyone, and put on your Museum manners."

When we were quiet, she conducted a little role play -- a museum tour of the "galleries" and paintings in the house. We didn't move, but she presented a narrated tour of the rooms and some of my most colorful paintings.

At one point, Lucy asked us to wait a bit while she checked to see which gallery she needed to go into to find "Sea Biscuit," her favorite painting at the Museum (although I do have a "horse" painting.) At another point, she tried to use the word "valuable," but declared that anyway it was "definitely art galleriable."

Lucy used her newly coined term -- "definitely art galleriable" -- several times during her tour and I have thought of the term since. I have considered my paintings and tried to determine which are satisfactory, which look good on the walls and which are "definitely art galleriable."

I think I might have to Ask Lucy.


Photos of Lucy at her white board
Photos and text of BushStrokes (c) AAB

Quote of the Week: Goal

A goal is a dream with a deadline.

James Scott Bell, writer
http://www.jamesscottbell.com/

Setting goals is simple for Lucy. She loves Toddler Time at the Museum but it's not looking at the art nor the creative time in the art room which is her dream. It's "I'm finished. Let's go to lunch at the Sunshine Bakery." She almost always meets her deadline.

Photo: "Lucy and her abstract painting."

Note: Sunshine Bakery is a local favorite with German deli roots.
Soups, Sandwiches, Josephines, Sunshine tea . . .

BushStrokes - photos and text (c) AAB

Color of the Week: "Birthday"

When 18 month-old Lucy and her Mamma came to my house to live for a while, Belle had not arrived. Now Belle has turned two and Lucy has just become a sparkling four year old and they have moved just five miles away (close enough for regular visits, but in another state!)


We celebrated last week with The Cake which Lucy "visited" each week as she and I grocery shopped together. It was a lovely party with four generations (as usual) of family and friends. Susan and I surprised everyone with {{ fanfare }} The Cake. Lucy loved it and all the girls called out the names of the princesses which paraded across the castle turrets.





Lucy's favorite color is pink, and there was lots of it, but for this birthday, she wanted the blue-green-lavender sea colors of Arial the Mermaid and was delighted with this present.




Lucy was excited and made sure her hat was on just right.











She let Belle wear the tiara -- even if it was backwards.
















She quietly opened the birthday cards and looked at the pictures.
















She could not believe the presents! "Just what I wanted!"
















She blew out the candles. She already knew it was delicious, especially the purple frosting! For a four-year-old, it was a perfect party!














When I tried to select a photo or two for the Color of the Week, I was surprised at the number of impressions which came from just a couple of hours; at how many faces of Lucy there were. As I try to get back in the studio in this quiet house, I must remember that no matter what the subject for painting or writing, there might be another thought . . . another point of view . . . another process . . . another surface . . . another way to see "Birthday."

BushStrokes (c) AAB
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Lessons from Lucy: Seeing Paintings

Thursday was Toddler Time at The Morris Museum.

The children talked about landscapes and looked at paintings of nature and then went to the activities room to create their own art. During these times, Lucy has painted a still-life of found objects, a texture rubbing, a Medusa snake (after Ida Kohlmeyer's Medusa chair) and, this week, a pet rock -- rocks are in nature, you know.

She loves the quiet of the museum and seeing the pictures. Since before she was two, she and I have had museum days.

Seeing paintings with Lucy makes a difference in seeing paintings.


photo: Toddler Time
BushStrokes (c) AAB

Lessons from Lucy: What's Your Shoestring?

This week, like most of my weeks, has been full of the kind of amazing adventures which only belong to little girls. For them, everything has the potential to be something else!

Lucy had read the shoe book and threaded the holes with the purple string until it became a dull game. So, she just pulled it out and began to experiment. Within just minutes, she had folded it in half, tucked the ends over her ears and pulled it over to "listen" to my chest. She had stretched it out and "measured" me. She had tucked it under her chin and "played" a violin. She had threaded through it her belt loops like a sash . . . . She thought up more things than I can remember. Imagination at work!

Later, after attending an afternoon concert of baroque music at the Morris Museum of Art, older daughter and I passed by an exhibit of photographs of local things. She said, "Mom, he takes pictures like you do. These just remind me of your photographs." I could see her point. I was complimented by her comment and agreed that they did "feel" the same and some were the same views! I was just a little intimidated to realize that these simple, yet powerful, photos were taken by Robert Rauschenberg! Oh, my!

Lucy is not limited by what a purple shoestring is supposed to be. Neither was Rauschenberg. He took ordinary, uninspiring bits of daily life and let his imagination go. This week, the Morris will reinstall his work "August Allegory (Anagrams)" and I will go for the unveiling and look more carefully at the piece to spot the influence from those photographs of familiar things. I will look at how he used his "purple shoestring!"

And when my work is ordinary and boring and uninspiring, I will look at whether I saw some new possibilities in a sketch or photo, played with paint and texture, used the idea as a starting point or whether I only used the shoestring as a shoestring. I will try to be inspired by Lucy and Robert.

Good question. I just need good answers to "What's your shoestring?"




BushStrokes (c) AAB

Lessons from Lucy: Making Mud

Rule number one for many artists is "Never Make Mud." Watercolorists are often in a tizzy after over-working, glazing over wet pigment and just muddling the painting. Oil painters are not immune -- in my one college painting class, I made lovely mud! And writers can truly make murky paragraphs filled with inaccurate words and too many points of view.

Lucy has a spirit of "Joyous Naughtiness" about her (another good rule when trying out new things.} She learned about the fun of Making Mud when I bought her some new rain boots and we found the perfect puddle of water during one of our walks.









She carefully tested the water and loved scooting back and forth. There were Smiles.















She suddenly decided that jumping would be a good thing -- water splashed over everyone. There was Laughter.














Finally, she realized that the water had turned dark and muddy. Uh. Oh! There were Frowns.


She was dismayed at the condition of her beautiful pink boots. She was sure they were ruined. After being assured that the boots could be easily cleaned, she was ready for more scooting, splashing and mud-making. She knows when she's ready to be serious about what she's doing; something many of us never learn.

She won't be told "Never Make Mud." However, she will certainly have to learn the difference between Sunday patent leather Mary Janes and rubber boots with "Kitty Faces."

Not a bad thing:Making Mud.

@AAB

Pretend Them Into Something Different

As a child, Lucy's mother was fascinated by this structure which used to rest on top of a downtown building. It has been placed on the grounds where, in1791, George Washington reviewed the "troops" at the Academy which later became my high school.

Before we moved back to our hometown, we often came for visits and a little sight-seeing.


On today's walk, Lucy discovered it. She alternately danced, sang and pretended it was the Baby Jesus's Stable. I couldn't resist a little video to remind myself of how most of my day is spent.




Every day with a two and a half year old teaches me to make new discoveries and then to pretend them into something different.



@AAB

For This I Am Grateful

The days of Two Thousand and Seven have been unlike most of my days over the last forty years. I have done no painting, and only a little writing. I have attended few meetings and tackled no projects. I have simply been a grandmother to two charmers. (Hey, they are mine, I can say that!)

The children have only a few months left to live in our house. We hope they will live nearby, but Susan and I, along with Fred, Vinnie, Boomie and Green (our cats) will miss them when that time comes.

I know this is supposed to be a blog about my life as an artist -- what affects my process, what I have accomplished, what influences my thoughts. The truth is my life as an artist has had no production and no accomplishments. It has, however, had a great many new influences this year. I have learned a lot through Lucy's eyes and will through Belle's as well before they move. I hope when I return my dismantled studio to the rooms now occupied by my daughter and her little ones, I will approach my work with renewed enthusiasm, vigor and understanding.

Someone recently suggested celebrating Christmas with young children. Well, I have had the joy of Christmas every day. On this last day of 2007, for this I am grateful.

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If you are a regular reader of this blog, please accept my apologies for the scarcity of posts over the last few weeks. Once again I have attempted to complete partially finished entries and to edit photos so that my personal record will be a little more complete. So, if you get a blog-update email or two or three in the next day or so, it may just be an past-due Post. Read it or not.
I appreciate the comments and personal emails which this year has brought, I thank you and wish for you a Happy New Year.

AAB

Color of the Week - Light

Santa Lucia Day is celebrated in a number of countries on December 13th. The origin is muddled as are most of traditions, but in Sweden and Norway, a daughter of the household wakes the family very early to welcome the light after the longest night of the year. I remember the song from my elementary days and now have followed the traditional celebration through Britt-Arnhild blog at the House in the Woods. Her delightful Marta has been a lovely Lucia with her crown of candles and her basket of hot buns.

Even though we don't celebrate the "Lucy Fest," I thought I would post a picture or two of our Lucy in the afternoon sun of these short days. She has certainly brought light into our household this year and has provided a few lessons with her constant exploration of everything new. She will soon be two and a half and has suddenly become a little person. Every day is a celebration for Lucy.

AAB

Street Talk -- Getting Down

As the weather cools down, leisurely strolls down the wide green space in the center of my street are more fun. In other places it might be an esplanade, a hana-no-michi, a village green but in our town it has always been called "the median." (When I had a chance, I had it changed to "linear park" in the official neighborhood plan to protect its benches, lighting, monuments and sidewalks, but it's still The Median)

Although the hundreds of azaleas which have brought springtime joy to both hometown folks and visitors, have suffered greatly through some irrational transplanting decisions by city leaders, the heat and drought conditions of two recent summers, and some vandalism, it is still a great place to walk. The oaks, magnolias and gingkos provide dappled shade for stopping to read inscriptions on monuments or just for rest on the concrete benches.

On this particular day, Lucy took a walk and let me come too. We didn't take the stroller. She set the pace and looked at whatever caught her two-year-old eye. She took close looks at things I had not thought to point out while she was sitting up in the stroller.

She tried to climb the slippery light poles to get to the big ball lights added during the 50s.
















She watch closely as tiny ants ("the owies") scurried into their houses.










She sat on the cool grass and on an old rough concrete bench.
















She "read" the letters on a monument with her fingers and felt the bumps on another.








Sometimes, part of the creative process is 'getting down' to keep from missing the good stuff.



Another good Lesson from Lucy.

Lessons From Lucy: The Process

I was interested in the comments this week about my photos of Lucy. I do think that good pictures have to do with a combination of good photography and keeping a camera on-hand. (I think the subject has a little to do with it as well, but grandmothers are allowed to be a little prejudiced. . . . Well, aren't they?)

I keep my tiny digital camera and a little notebook with me almost all the time -- upstairs, downstairs, on the porch, in the car, in meetings. I do have to remember to use them. I have loved editing, cropping and looking for that second meaning in the photos just as I do with painting. So today, I offer this little photo essay about "The Process."

1. Getting Started. "I'm thinking." Lucy is obviously considering two ways to go with her creation. What will she use? Paint? Collage? Or Both?
















2. Decision Making. "It's Just Not Working." Lucy finds that the process is not always straight forward with expected results. Some adjustments must be made! "Maybe I'm not sitting in the right position."















3. Taking a Fresh Look. "I Need a Break." Lucy learns that sometimes the best answer is just to stop for a while and take a walk around the block, have a snack.
















4. Finding Satisfaction. "I Like It." Don't push so hard. Sometimes its just supposed to FEEL right.


















5. Knowing when to stop. "I'm Done." There might be some tweaking later, but for now Lucy has worked hard, likes what she has and thinks she'll ride her tricycle -- in her pink dress-up shoes, of course.

Lessons from Lucy: Not by Giant Leaps

About the time, Lucy was learning to maneuver steps, she was also practicing jumping.

Suddenly, she decided to put both her new skills together and she jumped from the bottom step. She laughed and giggled and then did it again.

Now, she has gotten good at it. She still occasionally has mishaps, but she is figuring it out.


In the studio, we can rework a mishap or edit a phrase. We just need to figure it out a little at the time.

Is that called Practice?

Don't expect giant leaps.


Note: All the kittens have new homes;
all the adults are fixed!

Lessons from Lucy: 'Play' is Not A Dirty Word

Watching Lucy grow and explore every day for the past three months has been fun and frustrating.

She often reminds me of new painters as she picks up a new toy, a new fork or a new pair of shoes (and yes, she does love red ones.) She wants instant success. But sometimes, she takes her time.

When I gave her a small box of sand for the front porch, she checked out everything -- BEFORE she got down to business; BEFORE she tried to create a masterpiece. She touched, felt and tasted; poured, sprinkled and scrubbed. She explored the materials at hand. She played!

If I could just get new watercolor students to do the same. They would know how to handle the brushes, what papers to use for textured or smooth results, why colors glaze or granulate or cover and maybe even when to use a photo reference as only a beginning. But most don't want to explore. Lucy and I think they miss the fun part.



And, by the way, sometimes we add water. Well. Maybe play IS a dirty word.

Lessons from Lucy: Practice Helps Fill the Basket

On Easter Sunday afternoon, our family gathered at Mamma's house for dinner and a small egg hunt. There were just Lucy and small Ben to look for the bright shapes among their great- grandmother's flowers.

They each had a basket and helping hands to guide them, but Lucy filled her basket quickly while Ben looked confused.




Painters are like that. One grabs a inspiration and quickly fills the canvas or paper with glorious colors. Another stands around and cleans his brushes, draws ideas, or sorts photos.

What makes the difference? Maybe a little preparation.



Sh-h-h-h! We didn't tell anyone, but Lucy had practiced a week earlier.


She was prepared to fill her basket.