Showing posts with label creative process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creative process. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Quote of the Week: Without the Continuing Quest

The process of change, the hoped-for-growth, add joy to the act of painting because, without the continuing quest for knowledge and increased vision and greater comprehension, painting can become a deadly vacuum, a routine of assembly-line-like production."





Photo: Pay Close Attention to the Chorus of Santas

BushStrokes (c) AAB



Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Sometimes It's Gingerbread

A random conversation at the AT&T store last week reminded me of the age of my town and a comment from Karen Jacobs reminded me of how much I take for granted about the abundance within a two mile radius of my house.
-- President George Washington visited my high school which was located nearby in 1781!
-- My church was established in 1798.
-- Our Augusta Museum of History, Sacred Heart Cultural Center, The Morris Museum of Art, the main library, James Brown Arena, and the Ronald McDonald House are an easy walk.
-- There's always something fun to observe on the street.

Sometimes there funny ways that all of this comes together. Sometimes it's in gingerbread.


Daughter Kathryn and I decided to create a gingerbread house for the annual history museum fundraiser. Neither of us had done a REAL gingerbread house before. Neither of us knew what we were in for! The resulting entry had to represent a historic structure, be architecturally correct, be made entirely of edible materials and be no larger than 24 inches high/wide/tall.

We made several excursions around town to determine what to use. We agreed on the St. John's 1822 building -- our own church.

We had ideas; we had designs; we had ingredients and we began . . . . Days later, we made the deadline with about two minutes to spare.

We were not embarrassed about our first-time entry although it was not as polished and perfect as the professional ones. We loved hearing that it made people see new things about the architecture of the church. We learned what to do, what not to do and that we need to buy enough to replace what little fingers sneak away. Next year, we'll start earlier and build smaller.

Yes. History and art come together in strange ways. Sometimes it's gingerbread.


NOTE: Our support is gingerbread; the medium is various edible ingredients:
the cement, trim and snow are royal frosting,
windows are fruit roll-ups and crushed lifesavers,
paths are poppy seeds,
shrubbery is cornflakes/ marshmallows/ sprinkles/redhots, candies and gumdrops;
and towers are ice cream cones and striped Kisses.

BushStrokes (c) AAB

Monday, March 31, 2008

Sometimes It's Just Good Craft

The craft of telling stories takes time to learn; the art takes a lifetime.

Sonia Simone
in her blog: Remarkable Communcation

I have rephrased the quote today because I needed this reminder: The craft of making art takes time to learn; the art (of making art) takes a lifetime.

The difference between the craft and the art is easy to understand in most creative endeavors and the role of good technique (the craft) cannot be dismissed.
  • In writing, words are selected; sentences are tweaked and paragraphs are molded to complete the thoughts of the writer. I read, I write and, occasionally, I turn a phrase which sings just out of reach of "craft."
  • In music, scales and chords are practiced; arpeggios and phrases are massaged for voice or instrument to translate the notes on the score. I practiced, I learned proper fingering and phrasing during years of piano lessons, and, occasionally my playing reached just past "well-crafted technique."
  • In art, the medium and techniques are explored, elements and ideas are merged in a composition of space, light and shape. I sketch, plan and paint and occasionally, I create a painting which breathes with life just beyond "nice."
I'd like for all my creative attempts to be 'art' and I have practiced the craft well, yet I know I have often fallen short. I know that the craft vs. the art is important in the journey, but, for a painter, sometimes the words seem muddled and it is easy to forget that my 'art' is not always "Art." Sometimes it's just good craft.

BushStrokes (c) AAB

Thursday, March 20, 2008

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

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Quote of The Week: Patterns of Faith



" . . . . In the end, the message was: knowledge doesn't exist unless there is a will to find patterns, a believe to do things a lot better."











"This also has some connection with a bible verse I love and guided my life since childhood,
'to have faith is to be sure of the things we have, to be certain of the things we cannot see.' "
Patrick Ng



A playground slide and the creative process -- both require patterns of faith and certainty to begin the journey.

Patrick Ng lives in HongKong.

@AAB

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Understanding Two Things

My little country house is on the grounds of a church campground which means that three times a year, our time there coincides with planned events. It means there are more friends, family and guests to prepare for, but also more times to be quiet with music and words under the big open air tabernacle.

This weekend was one of those times. While the summer week has been a tradition for almost 200 years, the fall weekend was my mother's idea and she has guided its program for 15 years. She gives much thought to how the musicians and speakers will balance each other for the services under the big open tabernacle and assigns everything from altar flowers to sausage biscuits.

My assignment is usually Saturday lunch for the ministers. In a primitive cottage with no hot water and sawdust floors, meals need to be easily prepared and served. This year, a few cool days called for a huge pot of vegetable soup, some biscuits, saucers of butter and a couple of pies. No one cared that I used frozen, not fresh, vegetables in the soup pot (a big pot roast cut into bite-sized pieces gave them flavor), that I used fat canned biscuits which were baked in my electric skillet ('how did you get them so crisp and brown on both sides?') or that the lemon and chocolate silk pies were thawed just before serving! A centerpiece of pots of chrysanthemums and fall figurines, an assortment of antique dishes which have collected in the cabinets and big soup bowls added to the ambiance, and laughter filled the chairs around the big table for much longer than usual.

On Sunday morning, as I drank my coffee and watched the sun coming through the trees. I thought about the times when those Saturday menus have been complicated and 'from scratch.' I don't know that the food has been any better or that the meal has been any more satisfying.

In the quiet morning, I understood two things: Complicated process is not always best. Successful shortcuts are learned through practice.

Two things which work in a simple place;
two things which work in the studio.

AAB