the flops, aka shitty first drafts

In her book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, Anne Lamott refers often to the “shitty first draft” as she encourages writers to get something, anything on paper as a way to begin. It rarely is anything worth keeping.

The lesson applies to painting, too, and when I’m working on paper, the shitty first drafts get tossed onto a shelf or cut up to use as gift tags or to collage into other pieces. Paintings on panels get multiple layers, so there is a long process of adding and taking away until I’m pleased with what’s appearing on the surface. I started those cloud paintings during my recent artist residency at Cedar Point Biological Station as a way to get started with something. I also played around pressing leaves into paint, using dried stalks as tools for making marks and sprinkling sand into wet paint. None of these experiments yielded anything worth sharing, but were part of my exploring the place in my work. The puffy clouds will either get cut into pieces or covered with additional layers until they are unrecognizable as these particular works.

I did make two paintings explicitly based on the shapes and colors of the landscape at Cedar Point and share images below. While they’ll both get signed and probably framed, I’m really only happy with one of them. The second painting has an ease about it while the first one feels overworked. It’s also true that what I see as overworked may actually appeal to a particular viewer because it’s a bit more literal and does have some whimsy about it.

one of two paintings on paper based explicitly on the Cedar Point landscape.

Another painting on paper based on Cedar Point. I prefer this painting for the flow of the composition, the variety of textures and the sense of ease it conveys.

Books and boots

After hiking with a group of students and artists at Cedar Point Biological Station last Tuesday, I realized my sneakers weren’t quite sturdy enough to support my aging ankles when climbing on rocky trails. After a few more days of sketching, painting and hiking a bit, I decided to spend Saturday exploring Ogallala. I visited the farmers market and enjoyed a cold brew from Slow Lane Coffee. I visited the local library and found a book I thought perfect for reading during the evenings at the station, The Art of Noticing by Rob Walker. When the librarian on duty told me I could only use it at the library, a waiting patron offered to let me check it out on her account. I was grateful for this display of hospitality and returned the book several days later after reading a wealth of prompts to contemplate.

Gotta love this turquoise bike parked at the entrance to Ogallala’s public library.

In addition to scouting local libraries, I seek out local independent bookstores and found a gem of a shop, Hokes Bookstore, which had a good selection of titles focused on the region. I didn’t clean out the section with my purchases, but made good additions to my personal collection of Nebraska literature and guides. To get familiar with a place, I want to know more of the stories and learn about what makes it distinctive. Discovering what grows and who lives here, and how those have changed over time are topics worth exploring.

When I strolled into Bomgaars, I was pleased to see that boots were discounted, so after trying on a few pairs, settled on the arch and ankle support offered by the Ariats pictured above. I’ve worn them nearly every day since I bought them and feel much more sure-footed on the rocky trails around the station.

A few days later, I received a package. A friend had thought of me while reading a book and insisted on sending it to me while I was away from home. Thanks, Ann G., for What Comes Next and How to Like It by Abigail Thomas. With its descriptions of friendship, aging, betrayal and forgiveness, it is a guide for appreciating the present moment, finding absurdity and humor every day, and celebrating love.

So while I may be striding with more confidence today, I’m also stopping often to watch, listen and learn.

Farwell House

Yesterday we left Omaha, drove across Iowa and arrived in Frederick, a tiny burg on the Illinois River in the western part of central Illinois. Rachel Mindrup and I are at the Farwell House for the Plank Road Artist Residency, which we were invited to do as an extension of our participation in the Midwest Artist Studios Project. 

Our hosts, the Ackerman family, are a delightful, generous ensemble willing to share their home with visiting artists who spend nearly two weeks with them, exploring the area, working, meeting community members and describing their work. We're looking forward to a dinner party on Friday evening, to a night market at the HUB Arts & Cultural Center in nearby Rushville, and to opening our live/work spaces and showing what we do on Sunday afternoon. 

I'm grateful to have this extended time to recharge and refocus. I expect to post images on Instagram and on my Facebook studio page, so check those out to see updates throughout my stay here. I hope to craft a few longer posts here, too. 

Bemis auction and fundraising

In two weeks, artists, collectors and art-lovers of all types will gather at the Bemis Center for Contemporary Art for the Bemis Benefit Art Auction. I'm pleased to have a small framed painting on paper included in the mix. "Fire and Ice #2" was inspired by the M's Pub/Mercer Building fire in January 2016. 

I've become much more selective about where I offer artwork to support fundraising activities. In many cases, I choose to simply make a cash donation. Offering discounted artwork depresses prices and undercuts the professionalism of artists who are handling multiple aspects of a complex business. Adam Price, former executive director of the Bemis, wrote a powerful article for The Reader about raising money at the expense of artists. You can read it here. 

I believe each of us has an obligation to help one another, and there are so many ways to do that. Everyone I know supports local nonprofits with cash, time and energy. I'd like to live in a city where art-lovers and collectors truly valued the professional artists working alongside them in all these activities by expecting to pay fair prices for artwork. 

Full disclosure: I bumped up the price of my painting offered in the Bemis Auction by 30 percent so that if it goes for the minimum bid, I still get a fair cut --  to cover my expenses for materials, professional framing, time and expertise. It's still less than what I'd receive if selling it directly, but I'm also supporting the activities and mission of the Bemis. Adding this cushion is not uncommon, and seems to me a reasonable way to participate in such fundraising efforts while not feeling cheated. And if the piece doesn't sell, I take it back to the studio and offer it at the same price as the others in this series.