Patricia Scarborough Art

Land Mark Event

2012-02-12T06:52:00.000-08:00

Greetings Dear Reader-

The countdown has begun.

What seems like an eternity ago, I was selected to be the Featured Artist at Wings Over the Platte, a juried art exhibit and sale at Stuhr Museum in Grand Island, Nebraska, dedicated to sharing the wildlife and rich environs of the Platte River which threads its way through Nebraska.

So, right off the bat, let me tell you that my pastel painting, "Windswept", was selected to be a part of the juried exhibit. Additionally I will be sharing over 30 paintings in my featured show, "Land Marks". Pretty heady stuff.

Thanks to the good folks at www.platteriver.unk.edu for the photograph

The Platte is a particulary beautiful river, "one mile wide and one mile deep", so we Nebraskan's say. Then we wink and add with a smile, "it's just that it's filled with sand". Currents of the river braid themselves through and around rich agricultural land, providing water and food for an amazing array of wildlife. Literally millions of birds will settle for several weeks in the safety of shallow water on their migratory journey, saving strength and gaining reserves for the long trek home.

Especially fascinating are the Sandhill cranes. Numbering in the hundreds of thousands, these magnificent birds fill the air with their strange trumpeting, and delight viewers with their amazing dance moves. Many sites up and down the river celebrate their return, including Stuhr Museum.

In just a few more days "Wings Over the Platte", and my exhibit, "Land Marks", will open to the public. I have spent the last year painting with this day in mind. Ready or not, here I go.

Just for fun, here are some tidbits to tempt you.

"Land Marks", and "Wings Over the Platte" open with a reception and chocolate bar for Stuhr members this Thursday, February 16th from 6 - 8 pm. Another reception open to the public will be held on the last day of the show, Sunday April 1st from 2-4:00 pm.

Please come say hello!

The good folks at Stuhr are also working with Nebraska Nature Center to host other crane watching activities and art-related events. I've got the details listed in the side bar. Special thanks to Nebraska Arts Council for helping to fund these activities.

Stuhr hours are Tuesday through Saturday from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm, 12:00 to 5:00 pm on Sunday.

Grab a jacket, your binoculars and camera, and come on out to central Nebraska and witness one of nature's great events, then take a break and stop by Stuhr Museum to see how artists respond.

See you on the river!

(Next week I'll be posting late. It's going to be a fun-filled, bizzy bizzy weekend, but I really really want to post photos of the chocolate bar and opening reception. Look for my post on Tuesday!)

Same Thing Only Different

2012-02-05T06:39:00.000-08:00

Back when I was in 3^rd grade we were initiatedinto the world of maps and geography. It was year to study the Fifty NiftyYoo-nited States. On a map pulled downlike a heavy window shade our teacher would reveal our country to us in rainbow ofhues; Nebraska was green, South Dakota was pretty pink,Iowa daffodil yellow.

As a child who relied on adults for most of myinformation about the world, you can imagine my surprise to find out, as a 4^th grader crossing the MightyMissouri into Iowa on vacation, that the Missouri River was not bright blue nor verymighty, and Iowa was not, in fact, a pretty shade of yellow.

I felt a little of that even last week as Handsome Husbandand I jetted across the central United States on our way to a conference in Phoenix,Az. As we flew thousands of feet above the earth I looked vainly for those largeblack dots indicating cities, the dotted and dashed lines showing boundaries, andyes, the subtle but sure colors that would differentiate Nebraska, Colorado, andArizona. It’s a concept that gets filed with the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus andthe Hairy Scratch, which is to say that some of us agree not to talk about it inthe presence of others, but we know inside it’s real.

While HH was busy at his conference I walked the downtown Phoenix area and marveled at how beautiful that part of the city was. Together we enjoyed browsing through Scottsdale galleries filled with stunning landscapes, abstracts and sculptures. We were both delighted at the color and vibrant brushwork of a collection of Russian Impressionist paintings, and equally intrigued in how current artists view our modern world.

Of course, we managed to do a bit of tourist-y sightseeing as well...

In the land of summer all year long the contrast between metropolitan living and my hometown was vast. Our hotel probably employed more people than populate our entire community.
Yet there were some amazing similarities...

Both Arizona and Nebraska have lovely trees...

. . . both Phoenix and Geneva have government buildings...

... both places have nice paths and roadways ...

... we've got rivers ... so do they...

... and artists the world over find ways to share their artistic endeavors ...

It was good to get away, and equally good to come home. Since returning I've been putting the finishing touches on a few paintings before packing them up for my upcoming exhibit.

I'll be the featured artist at Stuhr Museum in Grand Island, Ne. during the museum's annual Wings Over the Platte Juried Art Exhibit. My exhibit is titled Land Marks, a reference to both the method of creating a landscape as well as the natural features unique to the Platte River Valley.

All of this coincides with the highly anticipated return of the sandhill cranes on their migratory path this spring. This event brings people from all over the world to witness the incredible spectacle of hundreds of thousands of sandhill cranes funneling themselves through this vital area of the Platte River.

Wings Over the Platte and my exhibit, Land Marks, open Thursday February 16th and will be available until Sunday, April 1st.

Your call to action? Head out to the Grand Island Ne. area, watch cranes , hear their amazing warbling and enjoy their dance. Then scoot over to Stuhr Museum and see how artists from across the country, interpret the Platte River Valley in a variety of media.

Arizona can't match that.

The Winnah Is...

2012-01-29T14:14:00.000-08:00

As you recall today’s post is number 200. Woo hoo! I have posted nearly every Sunday for 4 years. To be honest, I’m pretty impressed withmyself.

As you know from last week’s post, to celebrate thismomentous occasion, I’m giving away a 6x6 oil painting. According to the rules, the names of thosewho commented this past week were deposited into a hat, fromwhich Handsome Husband has agreed to pluck one lucky name.

I'm just plain giving itaway! You didn’t have to sign up for new windows and siding, carInsurance, or lower mortgage fees. Allyou had to do was poke the comment button. How easy was that?

Handsome Husband draws a name from his hat. Notice the lovely pastel painting behind him? It will be part of an exhibit titled "Land Marks" which will show at Stuhr Museum in Grand Island, Ne. from Feb 17 through April 1st. More on that coming soon...

Without further ado, clamor or tumult, the winnah is…

Vickie!! Vickie, email me at patricia@pscarborougharts.com and tell me how to deliver your brand new painting!!

(And by the way,thank you all so much for commenting in such delightful and kind ways)

Many of you have been very supportive andcomplimentary of this accomplishment. Iappreciate your kindness and interest. Several readers have asked how I have managed to pile up so many thoughtsand ideas. As my friend Sheila said tome recently, “Inch by inch is a cinch. Yard by yard is hard”. That pretty well sums up how I managed towrite 200 blog posts.

That is the secret to my accomplishment. I wrote them one at a time. That may sound like a Big Duh; try it though.Imagine sitting down to write 200 posts. Kind of make you shaky, doesn't it?

Now imagine sitting down to write justone. Its doable. In fact, its doable 200 times.

And here’s another secret: I don’t worry about how good my post willbe. (You may have noticed thatalready.) If I burdened myself with thespecter of my high school English teachers grading my blog posts I’dnever get beyond the first word. My hands would turn to ice, sweat wouldtrickle from my brow and my brain would cease to function. I write because I enjoy it. Putting thoughts into words has helped me figure out a few things. I write about what I know, or what Ithink I know and hope you'll be forgiving. You are invited to read what I’ve shared, or go wash your car. Eitherway, my goal is to poke the publish button by 9 pm Sunday evening.

The 9pm Sunday limitation comes from the fear that if Ididn’t corral myself with a time frame, I would never actually get the job done. Ohsure, I’d think about it a lot, and probably even get a good start on a post,but my experience tells me I’d be distracted by important issues like birdsoutside my window, or looking for that sock I lost last week.

Another secret? I’ve got Handsome Husband in my camp. When I’m tempted to skip a week, or re-post an oldie, or simply run away from home, HH offers ideas, support, and patience. Thank you, sweetie.

Books and essays havebeen written about how to accomplish a task or reach a goal, and most of themcome down to this essential nugget: Take a breath and just do it.

And I did.

200 times

Lucky 200

2012-01-19T17:39:00.000-08:00

Greetings All-

It’s hard to believe, but next week I will file my 200^th post.

Every Sunday for nearly 4 years I have written a blog post for your perusal. To be honest, when I started this endeavor it never occurred to me that I would write 50 posts, let alone 200. I’m pretty impressed with myself if the truth be known.

I believe a little celebration is in order. With gifts - for you!

Here’s the deal: If you leave a sweet little comment, or any comment at all, I’ll put your name into my lucky plein air painting hat. On Sunday January 29^th, 4 years from the date of my first post, at 9am in the bright shiny morning, Handsome Husband will pick out a name, and before you know it a lovely little oil painting will be in the mail addressed to the winner.

6x6 Elms at Dusk by Patricia Scarborough could be yours!

I‘m getting chills just thinking about it.

Quick! Comment!!

(Btw, what a time to not be able to publish comments immediately! Hang in there, and do comment, and I'll get this computer situation taken care of asap.)

Why Oh Why?

2012-01-15T09:35:00.000-08:00

Fellow blogger and watercolor painter extraordinaire Nanci Hersh is doing a series of posts called Artists Collecting Artists. The pointis to see what kinds of artwork artists themselves collect and treasure.

I was pleased whenshe invited me to participate. As I surveyed our small collection of originalart I easily chose some and not others to carry the starry “favorite”tiara. It was a quick decision to pick my favorite corner in our home.

On adesk my grandfather made over 60 years ago sits these 3 pieces:

The collectibles box was made by Mary Linnea Vaughan.Lathe-turned bowl by Harry Adams. Alcohol reduction vase by Leroy von Glan. Goofy feathers are mine, lending a Dr. Seussian sensibility to the arrangement.

Then Nanci asked theSixty-four thousand dollar question: “ Why? Why are these your favorites?”

Hmmmmmm. Now that I think of it, why did we buy any of the art weown?

Handsome Husband and I discussed this at length. I do know that nothingwas matched or accented. Nothing was mentioned regarding any deep meaning or intellectualconstruct. We own watercolors, photographs, ceramics, and glass...noconsistency there. Subject matter and style have no thread either. Nor was it the name or reputation of the artist. There seemed to be no real rhyme or reason to our selections. (Just an aside, several years ago we did purchase a piece based on agrowing reputation. I hardly notice it anymore.)

One consistent fact is that we know each of these artists. There is something to that.

There is a mystique about the pieces we love. I believe itis a connection to a back story, something we share with the artist thatneither of us can plan ahead for. It’s something, an immediate knowing that Iam willing to empty my wallet to be able to call a hand crafted item mine. Theindescribable “It Factor”.

I find myself saying, “this reminds me of…” or “I think I’vebeen there…” or “this feels like…” The word resonate comes to mind. A sort ofdeep oscillation with a secret rhythm that just feels right.

Visual constructions are beyond our limited vocabulary. Isn’tthat obvious? We create art and share it to connect in a way beyond words, beyonddescription, beyond expectation as if there is a delicate web of experiencesunited unexpectedly across time and language. There are no words to describe the why. There is no need.

What art do you love? Do you know why?

Lightbulbs and Fond Memories

2012-01-08T11:24:00.000-08:00

In one month I deliver paintings to Stuhr Museum in GrandIsland for my upcoming solo show to be held in conjunction with the annual Wings Over thePlatte juried exhibition. All of thiscelebrates the annual sandhills crane migration through our state.

In addition to the work, I’ll need a mailing list, aninventory list and of course, The Artist’s Statement. Cue the scary music. Haul out the dictionary. This will take some time.

The theme of thisexhibit is the Platte River Valley, its environs and the wildlife that inhabitthis ecologically valuable area. As theFeatured Artist I get top billing, which means I’ve got to have a killerstatement.

So here I sit, toiling away trying to understand andvalidate my continuing love affair with landscapes and most especially trees. Inthe spirit of all I learned in art school I’m using language like juxtapose,elicit and ethereal, balancing those words with some philosophy thatwould give this collection of paintings a deeper validation as art. Spelledwith a capital “A”, spoken in whispered tones with a tight jaw: A-h-h-t.

This morning, after 30 years of writing statements, after a jillion words and hundreds of pagesof baloney , a lightbulb went on.

Trees and tangles of bushes andthe hollows in between are a major part of who I am today. In painting them Iget to revisit my glory days.

Back then I was a cowboy on a fast horse, being bucked off or leaping over obstacles onlya daring rider on a masterful beast would dare to attempt, all under the canopyof trees in our backyard.

I, along with mysiblings and various neighborhood kids, climbed high into the branches toppingour yard, Sherpa’s on a path into Valhalla. We flung ourselves off the firstheavy bough Tarzan-style not realizing that the ape-man was a fiction and that JohnnyWeissmuller had a net. It might not havemattered if we had. We were heroes inthe making. Really awesome ones at that.

Trees and bushes in our neighborhood provided us with abackdrop of intense imaginative play. Wewere pioneers and pirates and international spies chasing and being chased,fighting over who got to be the Mom, the Dad and the baby; the outcast, the hero.Freud’s laboratory tucked into the hedges of my own neighborhood.

The sky of my youth was divided by branches and sprigs. Isee that now in many of my paintings. Funny how I’m just now realizing that.

How that translates into a statement for an art exhibit Ihave no idea. The grown up part of me gets to wrestle with that. The fact thatI was once a rodeo queen with ties to an international syndicate who routinelysaved damsels from distress and escaped certain capture by leaping out of treeswill most likely be left out. Even if it’sthe truth.

With effort and a thesaurus I'll create a document explaining my collection of paintings with grown up words, knowing all the while there's a little kid lurking behind the shrubs, looking for a steed on which to gallop into the sunset.

My Word 2012

2012-01-01T11:08:00.000-08:00

Happy First Day of 2012.

It’s a new set of months, 12 of them coming at us all shinyand new, unbent, unbroken; hopeful like a brand new pair of jeans.

It’s also the day we dread. It’s New Year’s Resolution Day.

I'm suggesting you try something different.

For the last 4 yearsI have followed the wise guidance of Christine Kane, counselor and visionary tomillions. Rather than start the yearwith a resolution, which feels all burdensome, more of a millstone than atouchstone and generally doomed to failure, Christine offers a kinder approach:the Word for the Year.

Having a Word for the Year is more like having a guide thana goal. It’s a word you can whisper softly to yourself multiple times a day, orrattle yourself with when necessary to get on track. There is no use-by date,no shelf life, no feelings of failure.

The first year I replaced my resolutions with a simple word, Ichose “engage”. It was a beautiful word to accompany my journey through a yearof immense growth and change as I developed my art practice. Engage worked so well I used it a second yearas well. Using the word engage wasinfinitely more powerful for me than any resolution charging me to Do Better,Try Harder, Achieve More. Engaging was measureable immediately, kinder tomyself and others, and useful in nearly every situation.

Engage, as in connect, involve, mesh.

Last year I got flashy and chose moxie. Originally a name for a soft drink years ago,it became synonymous with spunk and courage. I had spent weeks looking for a good word, sounding them out andimagining their usefulness. Moxiesounded dashing and fun. The image in my mind was of a certain artist in 6-inchheels and jaunty beret, striding confidently through each doorway swung openjust for me.

If you’ve ever worn 6-inch heels, you can see right awaywhat a bad fit that was. My rakish beretwas more Princess Beatrice than courageous, although now that I think of it, wearing that hat took guts.

In other words, moxie was fun to think about, but just not …real. At least not for me. Moxie will berelegated to list of Not So Good Ideas along with the “new” recipe forCoca-Cola and my stylish Crocs.

There's just no excuse for this.

This year’s word is a better fit. Interestingly, it seems tohave found me. In a weird sort of way Ihave become aware of the word “awareness”. I accept thatit’s been following me around for quite some time and expects to be invited into stay. Rather than look for a flashier, sassier more interesting word, I’mgoing to accept the kindness and guidance of the universe and go into the year2012 holding hands with awareness.

I’m framing awarenessas a call to enlightenment, appreciation and understanding, all of which Icould use a little more of. It’s also pretty open ended and useful in many contexts. I can hear it beingused by our local deputy (Ma’am, are you aware of the speed limit?) or by Handsome Husband (Hon, are you aware ofthat thing on your forehead?). I’m reallyhoping to hear it whispered to my deepest self, shedding light on my motives,my attitudes and my preconceptions. It’llbe interesting to see how this concept infiltrates my actions andsupports/challenges/awakens or otherwise lifts me to a higher level of being inthe world over the next 52 weeks.

Think about it. What word will guide you through the coming year?

My 7 Links

2011-12-25T06:36:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas to you, Dear Reader!

I’ve been invited by Hannah Klaus Hunter toparticipate in the My7Links challenge which is circling the globe even as wespeak. Thank you my dear!

It’s a timely invitation. This will be my last post of 2011, and is anexcellent way to take a look over my shoulder as I put the finishing touches onthe year.

Selecting a post for each category was surprisingly difficult. I’ve had thischallenge in my inbox for about 3 weeks, so I’ve already over thought it, thusbreaking one of the rules before even getting started. I easily picked multiple entries for some categories, and sifted through others desparately looking for anything that would qualify.

Rather than fuss and fidget any further, allow me toshare with you my selections:

Most beautiful post: In Dad's Shadow. I selected this post because it is about my Dad. Writing it helped me see the thread of hisdna in my siblings, my sons and in me.

My most popular: A Thousand Words. We artists are a helpful lot.

Most controversial: Getting Un-Organized. I purposefully don’t write “controversial” here. I’m amiddle child, it’s my job to get along. Despite the fact that many coaches are proponents of joining the appropriate associations and building that resume, I did use this post to challenge the conventional wisdom.

Most helpful:A Day in the Life It surprised me how many of you connected on this one.

Surprise Success: Passionate Repose "Success" is sort of a relative term with this blog. I was pleased at the response to this post, though.

Lack of attention: This heading would cover alot of what goes on here. However , I picked this onebecause I really do think it was a good post: Job Listings.

Most proud of: Create Peace Like a good Mom, I'm proud of most all of my posts, even the stinkers. This one was a little more thoughtful than most.

5 Bloggers I invite you to check out:

Karine Swenson. I love checking in on Karine's life and art out in the high desert.

Liz Crain Ceramics. Not only does Liz write beautifully, her ceramic pieces are so very cool.

A Bird's Eye View. I'm no poet. Soozie weaves words into images in such a way to make me wish I were.

Gwenn Seemel. A portrait artist from the northwest, Gwenn's posts are helpful, thoughtful and challenging.

Michael Campbell Weekly Funny, thoughtful and charming. Always beautifully written. He's cute, too.

Hope you had a good 2011. See you next year!

What's On Your List?

2011-12-18T10:25:00.000-08:00

Santa is looking for just the right giftfor you this year. Once again I’ve given him a few ideas that I think will fit just right:

An introduction to my dear friends, Inspiration and Confidence.

A roll of duct tape in which to wrap up their nasty step-sistersFear, and Comparison.

A place to get away.

The right hue, value and intensity each and every time

A really good framer.(Thanks Warren!)

Organizational skills

A ruler that measures the same each and every time.

A kind and loving support group.

My Fam: HH and The Fellas

Patience – with yourself and others.

Confidence.

Opportunities.

Time with friends who understand you.

New roads on which to travel.

The perfect tool forthe job.

Spell check with a horn that cuts through cloudy thoughts, and a brake to slow down that last minute rush.

An appreciation for the finer things in life.

A comfortable place to work.

A sense of humor about yourself as well as others.

What would you add to the list this year?

Forecast for Blue

2011-12-10T14:32:00.001-08:00

Two days ago we had our first real test of weather. We'd been warned of an impending "event", but to be honest, that's what weather forecasters always do. In earnest voices, brows knitted together tightly to let us know just how serious they are, they make their best case for the worst ahead.

So when I heard reports of snow, I ignored them.

I'm from Nebraska. Not that that's a reason, but jeesh, it snows here. Alot. And honestly, in what other business can you be so wrong so often and still get paid? I've said it before: if you don't like the weather here, wait a minute and it'll change.

Plus, I had a goal. I wanted to be proactive, business-like, johnny-on-the-spot and make a client happy for Christmas. So despite dire warnings of "potential significant amounts" of snow I hopped in my trusty vehicle and drove to my framer's place of business. That he lives in another town an hour away is significant.

As usual, the forecasters were wrong. We didn't get significant amounts of snow. ( I suppose "significant" depends on your point of view, doesn't it? If you're short, wearing heels, or hoping to try out your new Snow King sled the word "significant" takes on a certain meaning. )

What we got was ice. The few inches of snow that fell in huge flakes covering everything in a gorgeous coat of white melted on impact on the streets, and a short time later froze as the afternoon came to a close.

Not to worry, I made it home, but it took 2 hours of white-knuckle staring-at-the-car-in-front-of-me-driving to manage what would normally take me one hour of cruising-while-admiring-the-landscape driving. My steering wheel may still have grip marks.

Being Nebraska, the sun rose the next day on a landscape draped in stunning soft white with oh-so-blue shadows. I've forgotten joints stiff with tension and marvel at how much color there is in white snow.

Forecast for tomorrow: Blinding brilliance balanced by shocking cool hues in low lying areas. Warm tones in the foliage. Buckle up and drive safe.

Another Christmas Letter

2011-12-03T17:21:00.001-08:00

We got our first Christmas letter a couple of days ago. It wasfrom J.W. Marriott, Jr., Chairman and Chief ExecutiveOfficer of Marriott International, Inc.

No kidding.

I had no idea he knew we stayed at hisplace.

We’ve gotten others since. You may have gotten themtoo. They’re from close friends youhaven’t seen in years, slathered with photos of people in matching sweaters smilingout at you. Images of favorite cats and dogs watch you closely, ready to lickthe eggnog right off your face.

In a few letters we’ve gotten over the years, theanimals actually do the speaking. Who knewthey watched their owners so closely? Imagine what they could accomplish ifthey had opposable thumbs. That’d be something Mr. Marriott would findinteresting. Maybe he’d give them a free room.

This is my holiday letter to you. Don’t worry, I’ll keepit short.

Thank you. Thanksfor buying art; my art, any art. And for reading my blog, and for liking me onfacebook.

Thanks for listening to me try to figure out what I wasdoing. Creating is necessarily asingular activity, which means artists are alone a lot. It’s helpful to bounceideas off others for a fresh perspective. Thanks for putting up with my bragging, complaining, whining and poking fun. You've been very kind.

It’s been a good year. HH andI have had some fun and put a lot of miles on the car. I’ve participated inexhibits in Lincoln, Norfolk, Grand Island and Kearney. I’ve donesome good work, even took Best of Show honors. I've also painted some stinkers but I’m still here, and I’ll be here nextyear keeping at it.

Happy Holidays to you, Dear Reader. How was your year?

Gratitude 2011

2011-11-27T08:07:00.001-08:00

I am sittinghere in my comfy chair, pondering the events of our annual Thanksgiving Family Extravaganza. There are 2 slices of pie left in the fridgejust waiting for me to finish this post so that they – and I - can go to pieheaven.

Our family and guests have been hugged hello,coats tossed on the bed, tables set, food laid out, stories shared, secondsscooped, belts unbuckled, babies tickled, dishes washed, crumbs swept, recipesshared, and goodbyes hugged with promises to keep in touch. Laughter still hangs in the air, along withthe aroma of turkey and stuffing.

I'mgrateful, really grateful.

First on my list is always myHandsome Husband. He supports me, helpsme focus, shares the bright side to my doubts and makes me laugh. A lot. He inspires me by his patient, kind demeanor, and his desire to be a good example for those around him.

There are my sons. They’re on my side as well. No one makes me laugh like they do. And no one makes me more proud. Being their Mom has helped mebecome a better person.

There is the Campbell Clan. I’m delighted that they’re willing to comelong distances to share a meal with us.

The Campbell Clan, Thanksgiving 2011

Tolive in the middle of this fine country is a blessing indeed, despite what thenews declares. There is health and home,jobs and friends, a full pantry and knowledge that tomorrow will indeed arriveat the appointed time.

Whatelse am I grateful for?

Agood haircut

Options

Belly laughs

Really good art supplies

Warmsun on a cool day

Mylittle yellow sailboat

Butterflybushes

Leftovers

Coloredglass insulators

Cleanmotels

The furnace guy

Cocoons

An early newspaper that lands on my porch

Friends, including you, dear reader.

Feel free to add to the list. What are you grateful for this year?

Buyer's Guide Part Deux

2011-11-20T07:23:00.001-08:00

Many of you are interested in buying art. As I recall, last week's post was about that very thing. With an abundance of venues, styles and opinionsto guide you, it can be a bit overwhelming.

In the same way that you would educate yourself beforebuying a car or a washing machine, it’s a good idea to know what you’re gettinginto when buying an art piece for your home. And because I like you, I’m goingto help you out.

Knowing some of the language can make the difference betweenleaving a gallery feeling secure in your investment of time and money, or wakingup weeks later feeling doubtful.

Let’s come to terms:

Prints

Too many artists, gallerists, and people in general use thisterm incorrectly. And sorry, justbecause everyone’s doing it doesn’t make it okay.

The term “print” in the art world refers to a specific kindof creative work; lithograph, etching, wood-cut or mezzotint. The artist is deeply involved in the actualcreation of these works, which involves cutting, scraping, drawing or scratchingon a special surface and then running through a press once, or multiple times.A print is numbered and signed by the artist. The top number indicates the actual number of the print, while thebottom number indicates the number of total prints made. The notation A/Pindicates an artist’s proof, which is generally deemed more valuable since itis used by the artist to make changes or to validate the first printing. It isalso generally agreed that the smaller number of total prints gives them morevalue than if, say, 50,000 of them were made since the printing process willdegrade the quality of the print microscopically each time it is run throughthe press. This is why those printscloser to 1 are possibly more valuable than those prints numbered higher.

Reproductions

This is where it gets sticky. Many people refer to reproductions as "prints".I’ve noticed that many galleries and artists are among those mis-using theterm. Whereas a print is considered an original piece of art, a reproduction isa copy of an original. It’s a subtle,but major difference. Kind of like the difference between an organic tomatogrown locally, and one of these hothouse vegetables grown in a giant warehouseunder fluorescent lighting. Same thing,only very different.

In that same vein comes the term “giclee” (zhee-clay, pronounced with your pinkies out). This is simply a French word meaning ink-jet. Giclee printing, developed in the 1980’s,uses long-lasting inks on high quality paper for fine art reproduction.Many artists are using giclee printing to reproduce their work for thosecollectors who are interested in a low-cost alternative to buying an originalpiece.

Regardless of the way in which it was produced, a reproductioncan be run in unlimited numbers, making them considerably less valuable thanmany buyers realize.

Reproductions of paintings by Patricia Scarborough. Available in greeting cards by the jillions.

Archival

This is another term whose meaning has lost its way. Archival means the ability to be archived, orsaved in a special place. When peopleuse the term in discussing the quality of an art piece, they are talking aboutits durability, as in how long one canexpect it to hang on a wall or sit on a pedestal before age or the environmentbegin to take its toll and cause changes. Many works on paper can be affected by the acidcontent in the pulp used to make the paper, causing yellowing over time. Themain thing to consider is this: How long, really, do you want this thing tolast? If you’re shelling out a largechunk of money to pay for an original piece for your living room, you’ll wantto know that in 10, 40 or 80 years your purchase will be as beautiful then asit is now. If however, you are in the market forsomething to match the curtains in a guest room, ask yourself if the expense ofa durable piece of art is necessary, since you’ll probably be changing curtainsin the next decade anyway.

It’s not a huge issue, since the intent is to communicatequality. The term has become a marketingtactic used by all but the pure at heart.

Birdbath by Patricia Scarborough 7x9 pen & ink on typing paper . The yellowing was caused by acid in both the cheap paper and mat.

Original

Just like it sounds. You will enjoy texture and quality of color unlike any reproduction no matter how fancy the name. Originals are quite often more affordable that you think. Plus, you, and only you, get to hang it on your wall.

I’m not saying do not buy a print or a reproduction of a 2-d piece of art you love (whether it's on fine linen or typing paper). Absolutely not. I am saying that you should simply be aware of what you are shelling out your hard earned cash for. If you are covering a hole in the wall in an apartment you’ll be leaving when you graduate, go for a less expensive reproduction by all means. If, however, you are looking for something that will make you smile for the next 40 years and will be fought over by your heirs, consider the quality of the materials and the way it was produced.

Buy a Jaguar XJ, orbuy a Ford Pinto; they both have tires and steering. One will get you there,and one will get you there in style while your neighbors stand by wishing they were you.

Your Holiday Shopping Guide

2011-11-13T12:14:00.001-08:00

With the biggest shopping season of the year nearly upon us,I’m going to add my 2 cents worth and encourage you to buy original art foryour family and loved ones for your holiday giving.

Here’s why:

It’s classy.

Anyonecan go to X-mart and grab a vase off the shelf. Anyone can dash past the carrotsand celery, through the underwear aisle and past the computers and bike tiresto snag a bracelet that says,

"I love you just like a thousand other guys lovetheir wives".

Anyone can join jillions ofpeople milling through stores that can be found in any faceless mall in theworld and paw through piles of merchandise looking for that one special thingthat says,

"You’re just as special as 10-thousand other fellas”.

It takes a classy person to resist all thatand shop for a one-of-a-kind item for a one-of-a-kind person.

Choosy shoppers choose fine art.

Buying fine art puts you in a class of your own. Why stand in line at a jewelry counter to buythe same rock or watch or pendant fifteen other schmucks are hoping to impress with? Do you really want your sweetie seeing her jewelry on some other woman? Investigate a local painter or sculptor whowill share a creative vision with you that extends far beyond the reaches ofthe cash register.

Fine art, whether thrown and baked, framed, sculpted orblown will always, always be in style. No matter what Martha Stewart is doing,no matter who HGTV puts in the screen, you will be assured of havingtaste. Think about that before you painteverything according to the latest Modern Copycat magazine. Buying art thatstirs something deep within, a memory perhaps, or an idea, will help it retainits interest and personal value long after you’ve re-covered the sofa and youreasy chair and yanked the curtains off the walls.

"Honey, let's be different and buy one-of-a-kind, original art. All the cool kids are doing it."

There are lots of great galleries in your area waiting just foryou. Drop by and say hello,and tell them a bit about yourself. Let themhelp you in a way that no bored teenager who would rather die than wait on you can. They'll guide you to a purchase that will have your loved ones feeling truly cherished.

Weekend Review

2011-11-07T11:12:00.000-08:00

It appears that finally the gremlins who attached themselves to my blog have moved on to some other poor schmuck's blog. Good luck, fella.

As promised, photos of my amazing weekend...

That's me, on top. Dee's floral watercolor, and Harry's lathe turned vessels.

Prairie Winds Art Center in Grand Island, Ne. provided a lovely opening reception for Harry Adams, Dee Rodgers and I for our exhibit, "Nature's Bounty". Crowds were exceptional, as you can see. I'm so very grateful to art lovers, family and friends who came out to share the evening with us. This exhibit will be up until November 30th.

Elbow to elbow nearly the entire evening

While the Prairie Winds reception was winding down, I dashed down Highway 30 to Kearney to prepare for the Museum of Nebraska Art's 2-day Kaleidoscope of Art event. I joined over 30 artists sharing their creative endeavors with appreciative crowds at one of Nebraska's crown jewels, the Museum of Nebraska Art. The former Kearney post office, this beautiful building is perfect for housing and showing the artwork of Nebraska artists. I am delighted to have shared space in the large main gallery with Keith Lowry, Jane Marie, Del and Martha Pettigrew, Pat Jones, Karen Krull Robart, Jorn Olsen and others.

The main gallery, just before the crowds moved in.

Hey Mom, look! It's me!

Special thanks to Handsome Husband who kept the home fires burning while I was out peddling my wares. It's a group effort here, and I'm grateful to HH for his support.

What did you do this weekend?

Bad Timing

2011-11-06T19:03:00.000-08:00

Well, this is awkward.

I just wrapped up a wonderful week. Twice I talked with groups about my life as an artist. It also happened to be the same week I had 2 major art events scheduled. The first, an exhibit at Prairie Winds Art Center in Grand Island, started with an opening reception on Friday evening, and the Kaliedescope of Art at the Museum of Nebraska Art in Kearney, Ne opened on Saturday. Both were terrific fun and I'm so grateful to the many friends that came to share the fun with me.

After all this rubbing elbows and visiting with friends old and new I had hoped to be able to post a batch of pictures. I find that I'm unable to upload anything at all, and I don't have enough brain cells left to string words together that make any sense.

So, it is with great humility that I beg your forgiveness and promise you that I'll post photos of my weekend along with witty banter as soon as I can figure out how to overcome this annoying and untimely glitch.

Until then-

Time Out

2011-10-30T10:35:00.000-07:00

It appears I am not alone.

In last week’s post, I mentioned the difference between theway Handsome Husband and I organize our days. He lives by his list, making notes, checking them off with a satisfyingflourish, and generally parading through his day like a man who knows where he’sgoing.

And then there was me, trying to corral my day, finallycoming to the conclusion that making concise lists is – for me anyway – like herdingcats. It just doesn’t work very well.

Accomplished artists Vickie, Karine and Hannah agreed. We check, uncheck, recheck, and re-recheck ,then double-check the recheck until we’re dizzy. I have a solution.

The Time Out.

In sports the time out is used to re-group, rest, andre-figure the direction of the team. Theplayers stand around sloshing water in their mouths and catching their breathwhile the coaches ponder their next move. After a short time has elapsed the players get their orders and go backonto the playing field with renewed spirit. Or something like that.

With kids, the time out lands them in a corner on a hardseat. Focus and self control are thegoals.

If you think you're being ignored, you're right.

And so it is with creative work. Whether it’s a day, a week,or sometimes several months, any kind of creative work needs time to rest, a siestafrom the over stimulated eyes and minds of its maker; a breather, an interludefrom being re-stitched, under-poked or overworked by artists who are simplytoo close to their projects to see clearly.

Funny, much art improves by being left alone. Sometimesflaws become more apparent after a time of idle repose so that some tough lovecan be applied. Hopefully it’s the lovelinessthat becomes even more obvious so that finishing touches can be completedwithout all the un-checking and re-doing. Regardless, it’s the time out that clears the air.

In preparing for two fast-approaching exhibits, I uneartheda painting I had put away in frustration quite some time ago. After seeing it with fresh eyes it wasobvious that all that was needed was a quick stroke of pastel and ‘voila’, itwas ready to be photographed and framed. Once.

Others that I had hastily finished and framed, documented,re-framed, re-documented, etc. are now being given their time out in hopes of aclearer perspective.

So I’m adding to my list by adding . . . nothing. Space. Time Out.

Paintings in Time Out. Stacked up ready for delivery to Prairie Winds Art Center in Grand Island, Ne. for a November exhibit titled Nature's Bounty, with Harry Adams and Dee Rodgers. Opening reception is Friday, November 4th from 6-8pm.

Then it's quick dash out the door and down the highway to the Museum of Nebraska Art's Kaleidoscope of Art event on Saturday and Sunday.

Put them on your list. I'll see you there. Check.

Keeping it in Balance

2011-10-23T12:12:00.000-07:00

In the time honored tradition of Opposites Attract, HH and Ihave spent quite a lot of time over the years coming to terms with ourdifferences.

This has been especially interesting since my foray into artas a full time endeavor.

In HH’s profession time, and keeping track of it, is veryimportant. His day is divided between appointments, paperwork, meetings andother duties. Managing the clock efficiently allows for more appointments, morepaperwork, more meetings and more duties. Checking these items off the list isproof of a successful day.

Time, to this artist, is a very different animal. It neitherstarts, nor ends; it just is. More often than not, I don’t actually finish atask. I make headway, I made advances, I may even make progress, but my work isnot conducive to being confined to a list.

HH is an impressive list maker. I’m learning. Where he starts the day with a dozen or soentries on his to-do list, mine often starts with this entry: “make list forday”.

HH feels a sense of control when he ends his day with his long list check-marked and scratched out. Certain items of mine can be checked off a list, certainly. Preparepanels. Check. Buy frame. Check. Put painting in frame. Check. Add hanging wire. Check.

My daily goals don’t always translate into a useable list. For instance, Monday’s list: “Paint”.Tuesday’s list: “Keep painting”.Wednesday: “Paint again”. In theinterest of saving trees, I can keep that one in my head.

The work of laying paint onto a canvas doesn’t translateinto timeframes or check marks. I have finished paintings, signed them, andframed them. Check it off the list. A short time later Isee something that could be tweaked. Uncheck. Take out of frame. Isthat a re-check, or an un-check? Fix thepainting. Recheck. Re-frame,re-re-check. Or is that un-check?

I’ve learned to set a timer to help me keep track of my time. Ding! Time for lunch. Ding! Go to the dentist. Ding! Write your blog.(What? It’s Sunday already?)

Of course, my day starts off with a plan, just likehis. I plan to work on a painting. From there things follow a different path -if there is a path at all. Mostly the plan goes like this: I will work on thepainting on my easel. I will work on ituntil I am satisfied, or so miserable I quit. Or, I will take advantage of unexpected beautiful sunny weather and paint outside.Or take advantage of unexpected cloudy weather and photograph artwork. Or, if it’s raining and the painting on myeasel is not going well, I will frame, or inventory…or…

He has a fairly tight rein on his calendar; I have a firstclass pilot’s license in flying by the seat of my pants.

He sets his calendar, I set a timer.

He puts on aftershave, I wipe off paint.

He puts on a tie, I tie on an apron.

He takes a break from paperwork to stare into space. I takea break from staring into space to catch up on paperwork.

He gets a regular paycheck. I get irregular paychecks. I think. It’s been awhile.

Somehow, despite our differences, we belong to the same mutualadmiration society.

I admire his ability to determine what needs to bedone. He appreciates my ability to beflexible.

I admire his ability to focus, he is learning to let go ofdetails.

I’m so very glad he can do math. So is he. He leaves the final decision on clothesmatching to me.

I have learned that being an artist isn’t just about colorand paint. HH has been very gracious inhelping me understand and use calendars and lists to keep my schedule straightand my studio time productive.

He has learned that being successful isn’t just aboutchecking off the task list. He now takestime to stop and watch trees turn color and butterflies hatch. (Just between you and me, I think he’s gotthat on a list somewhere.)

He’s less schedule oriented, I’m less open-ended. He’s willing to take the road less travelled,and I’ve learned to mind the clock.

One of these days he’ll get me to use a Franklin Planner,and maybe I’ll get him to leave his at home.

We'll both add that to our lists.

Vaughan Chapter Two

2011-10-16T06:48:00.000-07:00

Being a plein air painter in Nebraska is a little like playing dodge ball. It can be miserable, but when you realizeyou’ve made it to the end in one piece, it is oh so sweet. So it was with our V…Vaughan workshop at DavidCity last week.

V... Vaughan completes her demo as the sun goes down on our first day in David City.

Under V…’s expert tutelage our task was to experience thebeautiful Nebraska landscape first hand, focusing on the earliest and latest partsof the day. Our hosts from Bone CreekMuseum of Agrarian Art (a tiny gem of an art museum) had located severalwonderful spots from which we would work and I was excited to scout out new territory.

For six weeks, sixweeks, the weather in Nebraska had been particularly beautiful. Our skies were intensely blue, thetemperature was, balmy and winds unusually calm. It looked like the perfect time to paintoutdoors.

First light on the second morning. The day started beautifully.

But this isNebraska - where the weather changes before the weatherman can finish hissentence and it’s not unheard of to watch the thermometer drop 40 degrees in afew short hours.

A few moments later the temps drop, the clouds roll in. We perservere.

Despite the constant threat of inclement weather V… was intent on giving us our money’sworth. She was unfazed by whirlingwinds, cooling temps and light going flatter than an old grape soda. V…’s brush foundrich tones of purple, olive and indigo to describe rolling hills and autumntrees and she shared with us how to translate what we were seeing into paint. Her ability to coax a painting to completion quickly and confidently wasinspiring.

We gather to review the days' work.

My goal in for any workshop is to take home one or two bitsof information that I can apply to my own style and working methods. V… managed to shoehorn 5 or 6 major "aha’s"between my ears. That's quite an accomplishment. I'm looking forward to including these gems into my studio work - just as soon as I get the grass, gravel, foxtails and mud picked out of my equipment.

Huge thanks to V…, to the folks at Bone Creek Museum of Agrarian Art, andto all the workshop participants who made the weekend so special. V…’s recent exhibit, Passing America: The Great Plains, will be on exhibit at the Great Plains Art Museum in Lincoln, Ne., through December 11, 2011.

On the last afternoon, the sun shone brightly and we were visited by a herd of beautiful British Whites from the Bohaty farm, cattle whose only desire was to pose for our group.

Plein Air Experience

2011-10-09T19:19:00.000-07:00

Greetings Dear Reader-

I'm in the middle of a V...Vaughan plein air painting workshop in David City, Ne., and right now I'm just plain pooped. I'll share some quick images with you, with the promise to post more next week.

Painters get up bright and early to greet the sun.

My post...as usual I'm outstanding in my field.

Participants gather for a quick demo by V...

Next week I'll be back on schedule, I promise. Until then ...

Go Play

2011-10-02T13:57:00.000-07:00

Greetings Dear Reader-

This may be a terrible blow to you, but I'm taking the week off from blogging. The weather has been amazingly wonderful for the last week of September in Nebraska and I've spent as much time outdoors as possible rather than in my studio thinking of clever things to share with you.

I know it's impossible, but I feel a need to soak up as much blue sky and sunshine as possible. It's one thing to stay inside because I want to (to paint, to read, to do whatever it is I do inside) but it's another thing entirely to stay inside because it's 30 degrees with heavy grey skies. That will come all too soon.

So, before I actually end up writing a blog telling you how I'm not going to write a blog, I'll leave you with a recent painting. It may not be quite done, it'll have to lean against the wall awhile before I'll know for sure. I'll come back to it in a few days, when the skies cloud over and the temperatures drop, and there's no more playing outside.

Watching Monarchs

2011-09-25T15:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes an art blog just has to be about art of another kind.

I’m a fairly lazy gardener, letting pretty much anythinggreen fill the spaces between the black-eyed susans and the coneflowers, whichare kind enough to re-seed themselves yearly. When I found a common milkweed hiding at the back of the garden I wasfine with it. Not only would it add somegreenery by the alley, it might also attract a few monarch butterflies. In fact, I was delighted to find at least adozen monarch caterpillars munching on its milky leaves.

Suddenly I’m a sixth grader again, dashing into the house in search of empty jars for housing mynew family of potential butterflies.

Many of my blog posts have been about reminding you, dearreader, how easy it is to find wonderful things right under our noses.

It is understandable that you may not have milkweeds in your well-tended gardens or may choose not to scout for caterpillars, and finding a chrysalis among the leaves is not easy. Plus, there's the added responsibility of housing and feeding these creatures. It took several forays into the countryside to find enough milkweed leaves to feed these voracious eaters. And then there's keeping the jars clean; food in, food out, y'know? To spare you the trouble of putting on your own monarch rodeo, I’ll let you in on the excitement from a safe distance.

This is a great shot of 3 stages of development. About a week separates the freshest chrysalis (middle) from the most mature (far right).

This one is just a few hours short of "blossoming". When I came back a few hours later, I found

this fine fellow clinging tenaciously to the lid, the skin of its protective sheath hanging empty beside it. If there had been snow on the ground I could have called it Christmas and been thoroughly satisfied.

Some moments in life are extra special, and this is one of those. I'll keep it in my memory to savor, and when I see the butterflies come back through next spring, I'll imagine that perhaps my little jelly jar houses played a small part in their amazing migration.

A Thousand Words

2011-09-18T12:22:00.000-07:00

What does an artist do when they just don’t feel likepainting?

I snuggle up in big soft chair and leaf through my favorite books.

Disclaimer: To be honest, I don’t actually read these books. I mostlypage through them, every now and then stopping to peruse a chapter or aparagraph. I’d probably be a betterpainter if I actually read the sentences, paragraphs and chapters in the orderthey were written. I’ll start doing thatas soon as I hop off that stationary bike we bought back when it seemed like agood idea to ride a bike inside instead of going for a ride outside, where we might get somewhere.

But Idigress.

Here’s what’s piled up by my favorite chair:

Books about Claude Monet and John Singer Sargent. Duh, Ilook through these for the paintings, of course. Every now and then I actually read the words,but not very often.
"Claude Monet, Life and Work", by Virginia Spate. ©1992 Thames and Hudson Ltd, London (Out of print)
"John Singer Sargent, The Sensualist", Trevor Fairbrother, ©2000 Seattle Art Museum

Another disclaimer: I'm not an investor in Amazon Books. These were the most direct links to the books I could find. Look them up yourselves if you'd rather.

I love paging through "Alla Prima, A Contemporary Guide to Traditional Direct Painting", by Al Gury. (©2008 Al Gury, Watson-Guptill Publications). The paintings chosen torepresent what Gury is talking about are beautiful. Quite honestly, I get a little lost in the text;he is, after all, a college professor. Skip the intro and go for the 'how-to' parts. Luckilyfor me he showcases diverse artists like Jon Redmond, Cecilia Beaux and WalterSchofield.

"Harley Brown’s Eternal Truths for Every Artist", by HarleyBrown, International Artist Publishing, Inc. (Sorry, I couldn't find a copyright date.)

This book always makes me smile. It is visually gorgeous,and written with wit and a deep understanding of what it takes to make greatart. Brown takes complicated ideas, like color theory, and shakes out thesimple parts for his readers without taking himself too seriously. I love it for the images, and the fact that I can read just one page and still learn something.

John Carlson would have been an amazing teacher. A huge plusis that his writing style is clear, concise, descriptive and charming. As Iread, and re-read I find that I’ve already underlined many of his beautifullyworded explanations and, in fact, have circled entire paragraphs. The images of his work are in black andwhite, but still gorgeous and informative.

"Composition, A Painter’s Guide to Basic Problems and Solutions", by John Friend. (©1975 JohnFriend, Published by Watson-Guptill Publications.)

I’ve had this on my bookshelf for probably 20years, and am just now realizing what a gold mine it is. Reading about composition is not the mostexciting, or easy way to spend a rainy day. There are no funny characters orfiendish sub-plots to keep me interested. To his credit, Friend is a clearcommunicator who uses lots of ‘before and after’ images to explain what goodcomposition in painting is about.

Mostly I admire theimages. After all, one picture is worth a thousand words.

What's on your reading list?

Lessons from a Big Yellow Dog

2011-09-11T08:33:00.000-07:00

Early this morning Handsome Husband and I took off forour daily walk. The weather wasexquisite; cool, windless, quiet, the bright colors of summer sliding intomuted tones of autumn. As usual we wereplanning our day, or re-visiting yesterday’s tasks. I honestly don’t remember.

A few blocks into our walk we were joined by a big yellowdog. I was going to say he followed us,but that wouldn’t be accurate. Ahead ofus, to the side, but rarely behind us, he loped, leapt and scampered alongmanaging at least five miles to our three.

Nothing escaped him, and everything delighted him. Puddles hidden in high weeds by the road werea special surprise and he spent several moments in play, literally jumping upand down purely for the splash.

While Blondie shared our walk, he rarely seemed concernedwith us and never got close enough to touch. It was as if we were there simply to watch him play.

And then he was gone. Whether he returned home, or found more interesting companions, we’llnever know.

We humans could take a lesson from a big yellow dog. It’sactually a pretty interesting place we live in, full of smells and textures andhidden puddles waiting to be discovered. It wouldn’t hurt us to take a different path, or no path at all once inawhile, just for the heck of it. Or splash in a puddle just to watch the waterfly.

If you’re too old torun through a grassy field, at least walk down the sidewalk with your chin upand your eyes open.

You might meet a furry friend who would walk with you for just a while, and let you see the world through new eyes.

Sunny Dispositions

2011-09-04T06:02:00.000-07:00

Much to the dismay and astonishment of my farming friends, Iplant sunflowers every spring.

In rural areas where farming is the main business,sunflowers are considered a weed of the first order. Wild sunflowers, rangy and invasive, takevaluable nutrients from “real” crops and their tough, ropy stems get tangled infarm machinery as it passes by. I’ve witnessed a few of these wrestlingmatches, and I appreciate the farmer’s frustration.

I, however, am not a farmer. I plant sunflowers because theymake me happy. I don’t believe it’s possibleto look up at a towering sunflower, brilliant yellow leaves surrounding adinner plate-sized face, and not smile. They're regal, and a bit silly looking, and are perfect for painting.

It's a joy to paint such a happy thing. It's not often a painter gets the opportunity to squeeze out a variety of yellows, scoop them up unmixed and pure, and slather them onto a canvas - yet that's what it takes. The kindergartener in me is renewed.

Summer is waning and the sunflowers have begun to droop under theirheavy load of mature seeds. Cardinals,finches, flickers and others will sit atop the drying heads and reach over fora snack. Nuthatches have the advantage,being able to climb under the drooping head to reach the tasty centerseeds. It won’t surprise me to see a squirrelor two to catch on and climb the sturdy thick stalks and munch on whatever isleft.

All I will have then are the memories of blue skies and wide, wide faces circled with sunny yellow. That alone is enough to make me smile.

Ahoy Columbus

2011-08-28T17:00:00.000-07:00

Greetings All-

I'm just getting back from the opening reception at the Columbus Art Gallery, so these pictures are hot off the press.

Many thanks to the patrons who came in from gorgeous weather on a Sunday afternoon to share this artistic experience with Abe Abraham, Lauralyn Pilakowski, Tom Hubbell and I.

Abe retired from teaching art at Columbus Community College, and his work is a wonderful blend of styles and subjects. His students were lucky to have had him share his immense talents with them.

Dick "Abe" Abraham takes a break from visiting with his fans.

Lauralyn uses creates pastel portraits that are sensitive and lovely. Being a pastel painter myself I appreciate her skills with the medium. Tom Hubbell's delightful ceramic pieces were a great counterpoint to what was hanging on the walls.

The Columbus Art Gallery is located on the lower level of the Columbus Library, in a spacious room perfect for showing - and talking - about art. It was a pleasure meeting new friends and visiting about all things art. It was a knowledgeable crowd, which made it all the more enjoyable.

Take a minute or two to see what's going on in the art world in central Nebraska. It'll be well worth your time.

Finding Ourselves

2011-08-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

On May 10^th, 1944, the young crew of a B-17 bomber joined hundreds of others just like it on a mission to destroy a WWII Nazi aircraft factory tucked away in the pastoral fields of Austria.

Before the day was over, that plane and many more would be hit and their crews lost. One such B-17 was piloted by 2^nd Lt. Stanley Dwyer of Hastings Nebraska. Left behind were his mother, father, and a sister who would never know the exact circumstances surrounding the crash, except to know that his plane went down, the whereabouts of half its crew unknown. His only brother, Harold, soon to become a pilot like his elder brother, would ask a simple question some 5 decades later that would lead his family on a journey into their family’s history, across the Atlantic to the site of the crash to witness its devastating results, and to the stories of healing for men and women on both sides of the conflict.

That question planted a seed which would be remembered a few years later when a devastating house fire required the opening of a long-forgotten trunk holding the physical remains of Stanley’s life.

Close friend Kay Hughes is the daughter of Harold Dwyer, brother to 2^nd Lt. Stanley Dwyer, and author of the just released book ,“Searching for Stanley, Unforgotten Hero of World War II”.

Handsome Husband and I are honored to be a very, very small part of the Dwyer’s and Hughes’ search for Stanley. It has been a pleasure to watch Kay blossom from an already very capable woman into a fierce defender of her family’s history, guide to WWII events, agent of stunning coincidences, and now published author.

Harold Dwyer and Kay Hughes at a recent book signing for "Searching for Stanley, Unforgotten Hero of World War II”.

Journalist Gene Fowler said that writing is easy; all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead. In my experience, painting is the same. Ideas are born and nurtured until they are mature enough to be revealed. Hours of solitary work are required, mixed with study and research, then more hours of solitary work. Feelings of ineptitude, sometimes painfully drawn out, weave themselves into the determination to see this idea through to the end. Then there is the unveiling of the product of those hours of work, wondering if the skin is thick enough for what lies ahead.

Kay and I have shared hours of conversation discussing these issues. Her questions have stirred me to understand more fully my creative process. Her determination to write her first book to share the story of an uncle she'd never met, and see it in print, has inspired me to set high goals for myself, and to believe that I will achieve them, just as she achieved hers.

Follow along as Kay and her family begin their journey in the ashes of a house fire and travel back in time to Glasco, Kansas, where Stanley was born. Follow the family to Austria where they sift the earth looking for clues to Stanley’s final moments side by side with members of the Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command. Then join them in Scottsville, nestled among the wheat fields in northern Kansas, at the family plot where 2^nd Lt. Stanley Dwyer has finally, at long last, been laid to rest.

The question Harold asked that inspired this epic adventure? Chapter One, page 16 of “Searching for Stanley, Unforgotten Hero of World War II”. Discover for yourself how a young man who died too young lives on in the hearts of his family and friends.

Hookey

2011-08-14T17:02:00.000-07:00

This weekend I played hookey.

Rather than spend hours on this blog crafting just the right tone and delighting you with my immense humor, wit and knowledge (caught you, you just looked up to make sure you had the right blog, didn't you?), Handsome Husband and I spent the last two days outside like little kids.

After weeks of nasty high temps and worse humidity Saturday dawned crisp and clear, dry and breezy, a day just begging for us to come out and play. And so we did. Tonight we are bone tired, sun burned, and happy as clams.

Lest you think I was a bum all week, I'll leave you with some small pieces I've been preparing for the Museum of Nebraska Art's Kaleidescope event coming up in November. More details on that coming soon.

There are just a few hours left in the weekend, and I'm going to go squeeze as much out of them as I can.

What did you do this weekend to break your stride?

Durable Art Terms

2011-08-07T18:36:00.000-07:00

I love paint, the way it flows and mixes and moves. I also love words, how they flow, what they mean, their rhythm.

Let me get something off my chest.

Compared to solving our national debt problems, using the word archival, rather than the word durable when describing an art item or process is not a huge issue. Durable seems more useful in describing jeans or all-terrain vehicles than art products, and I get that. Archival is a cool art word, like using juxtapose instead of next to. We creatives do like our fancy terms.

The word “archival” means the ability to be archived, or saved. I looked it up. I am also supported by the good folks at AMIEN, a website resource for artists dedicated to "providing the most comprehensive, up-to-date, accurate, and unbiased factual information about artists' materials ", which of course includes proper terminology.

An archive is a place for saving, like a warehouse, a library, or other safe place where one-of-a-kind items can be kept. Thus, to use the term archival when talking about artwork would mean that you believe said artwork should be stashed on a shelf in a warehouse, next to a crystal skull or the holy grail or the very first Life magazine.

Well, of course it could be, but we’d rather you didn’t.

Somewhere, sometime, the term archival came to mean something different in the art world. Supply stores, gallery owners and artists alike now use it to mean durability. When an artist says, “I use only archival materials”, what they mean is “I use materials that will not deteriorate with time.” It is implied that “time” means centuries, not simply years. It also implies worth, since no one would bother to archive anything that wasn’t valuable. This does not include the little old lady on the corner who has archived every newspaper, magazine and hamburger wrapper since the dawn of time. That's something different.

What I really wonder about, the issue that artists don’t like to admit they think about, is whether durable, or archival (to join the unwashed masses) is really necessary or desirable.

Do I want everything I’ve created to last for 300-600 years? Everything? Isn’t there something to be said for scarcity or winnowing out?

What if I botch a project, then what? There is a landfill out there somewhere filling up with awful, half-finished art projects (not just mine) that simply will not deteriorate and become part of Mother Earth again, at least not for a very long time. What will archeologists think when they tunnel into this landfill in a thousand years? Can you see it now, a group of students and their mentor in pit helmets and cargo pants squatting over a pile of freshly unearthed rubble, carefully swabbing the remains with soft brushes for fear of destroying something immensely important . Is it a sacrificial pit from an unknown civilization? A refuse dump? A modern Lascaux Cave? Unbeknownst to them, they have stumbled upon an archive of durable, long-lasting, extra fortified throw-aways the artist hoped would never see the light of day.

I use durable, long lasting, reliable, stable materials. I like the way they feel and how they work. I love the idea that your great-grandkids or great- great-grandkids will someday argue over who gets a P. Scarborough painting from your estate, in part because it was well made.

And rather than file it away, archived next to a crystal skull and CIA documents from Area 51, it’ll hang out in the open, in a place of honor, to be enjoyed by another generation of art lovers.

Downhill Painting

2011-07-31T07:18:00.000-07:00

Rather than smile shyly and scuff my shoes on the ground while you gush forth with compliments I’m just going to say it right up front: This is a mighty fine painting. I love it, in fact.

I knew the minute I saw this grove of trees south of the Platte River by Kearney, Nebraska it would make a wonderful painting. The dark silhouette of the trees, the stragglers – or leaders, depending upon your personality, intrigued me. I could even feel my arm move to create the brushstrokes I would use.

I don’t usually spend a lot of time in preliminary work. Despite the best efforts by teachers along the way to convert me into doing things "The Right Way", I don’t do sketches before hand to test compositions and values and color schemes. For me it’s a quick sketch on the canvas to note landmarks, a glance at a color wheel to focus my thoughts and then jump right in before my brain has time to get in the way.

Working this way requires a delicate balance, kind of like riding a bike down a steep hill. Equilibrium between experience and improvisation will get you to the bottom with limbs intact - most of the time. Often enough to get me back up to the top of the hill to try it again, anyway.

That may be partly why I love this painting. It’s the sweet memory of the ride, dodging potholes and parked cars with confidence, finding myself at the bottom of a steep hill with no real idea how I got there.

It's probably not a smart way to work. I crash as often as I succeed and have the scars to prove it.

When the ride is good though, oooh, baby, it is soooo good.

Fresh Start

2011-07-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned how good it felt to clean out my studio after weeks of diligent painting and preparation for exhibits. Leftover piles from dozens of projects threatened to put me in contention for a television episode of "Hoarders". As I cleaned up from weeks of creative focus, it felt good to release old clutter that acted like a snag, clogging the flow of fresh ideas with piles of "almost, some day" projects.

This week, it was a lovely feeling standing before an empty canvas, fresh piles of paint lined up neatly on my bright and shiny palette.

Diving in bravely to a 30 x 40 canvas, I'll to share with you the nearly-finished results of this effort.

I can see a few small changes I'll make this week, nothing major, but small tweaks that will bring the painting to completion.

It's a project that's been on my mind for quite awhile. It took a good cleaning of my studio to open up those neural pathways that allowed the concept to form clearly in my mind. And when it did, my palette and taboret were organized and ready to go, offering exactly what I was looking for when I needed it.

How do you get unstuck? Are there practices that you use to clear out the junk so that new art can be created?

Sailing and Other Lessons

2011-07-17T10:22:00.000-07:00

I DID IT!! IdiditIdiditIdidit!! I did it. I DID it.

After being ballast on various sail boats for the last several decades, I learned to sail solo yesterday.

A certain Fine Young Man spent a wonderful afternoon tutoring his mom in the fine points of sailing his gorgeous, banana-yellow Escape Rumba. Turns out he’s an excellent teacher; patient, kind, and willing to turn the tiller over to a rookie without hesitation. Maybe it was the confidence he had born of his own experience, plus the certainty of a small lake, gentle breeze and really good life jackets.

My first lesson: Go that way.

Fun is not the right word to describe the event. Total focus, delight, deep satisfaction, - oh yeah it was fun. Memories of sailing with my dad, the delight of hanging out with my son, hot sun, perfect wind, Handsome Husband watching from the shore enjoying a cigar, it was a complete blast.

Fine Young Man recognized early on that an important element of my lesson was to learn what to do when things go awry: getting dumped and righting the boat. Once that was accomplished – both being way easier than I anticipated – the rest was just fun zigging and zagging across the lake like I knew what I was doing. Handsome Husband could hear me laughing from the shore.

Zooooooooooooooom

Sailing, like living well, seems to be about balance, both literally and figuratively. Being too careful puts you in a position to wallow or flounder, meaning, quite simply, you don’t get anywhere. Taking too many risks or not paying attention and you’re swamped before you know it. Keeping yourself in the sweet spot takes experience and knowledge plus a willingness to experiment and except the consequences. You can’t learn to sail by reading a book; you have to get wet.

Tim and I, soaked, sunburnt, and loving it.

There are lessons in all that for a studio practice as well, of course.
Balance: risk, safety; pushing, pulling; standing boldly before the easel or checking email just one more time…

How is your balance?

ABC's of Cleaning

2011-07-10T08:53:00.000-07:00

Cleaning out is actually a wonderful way to restore a creative spirit. All those “almost” projects pile up and act like spider webs, catching unsuspecting, delicate ideas and wrapping them in dusty confinement.

If you’ve been paying attention, you know I’ve been busy. LUX Center for the Arts hosted an exhibit for me in May & June for which I created a series of paintings titled Private Property. Four days after taking that one down, I opened an exhibit at The Burkholder Project with an entirely different group of paintings called A Larger View. The day after that opening reception I hosted my community’s Art on the Green, part of our Independence Day festivities.

I’m not complaining, I’m just sayin…

All this creative hustle and bustle has created quite a pile-up in my studio. In an effort to multi-task my multiple events, I managed to build multiple mountains of half-finished, almost-but-not-quite-done projects. You may know the kind: you start “A”, but you can’t get “A” done because “B” needs doing immediately, and then there’s “C” which got started last week and is now in the way, so you scoot “C” over on top of “A”, and then your eye is caught by bright and shiny “D”, which looks like waaaay more fun than anything else you’ve started. Using this formula, I’ve run through the alphabet several times over, piling ever higher and wider. At one point I couldn’t tell where one project ended and another one started. My creative space was one long interrelated complicated … mess.

Mom was right, a place for everything and everything in its place

I can’t work in that kind of situation. Tripping over piles of artistic detritus doesn’t inspire me to creative heights. My studio is small enough without walls of rummage closing in on me. I'm not saying I need spic'n'span surfaces and shelves of books alphabetized by author, but it would be nice to know under which pile my 4' x 8' work table could be found.

All surfaces accounted for

So, 4 days and 3 large garbage bags of pieces-parts later, I’m all tucked in and ready to go again. My second hand nearly new taboret is cleaned, painted and stuffed full of all the right stuff. I’ve got room to move, and better yet, room to think. Those delicate webs of lovely ideas have been released and are dancing in my imagination, waiting patiently for me to respond.
I can hardly wait.

Hot off my shiny clean easel © Patricia Scarborough 12 x 16 pastel, as yet untitled

Weekend Whirlwind

2011-07-03T10:29:00.000-07:00

Last week I promised you a busy weekend of art activities, and I'm a woman of my word.

My weekend in pictures:

That's me, posing for the obligatory Reception Photo at The Burkholder Project, with a surprise last second appearance by one Fine Young Man. (I mean that. How he managed to skid to a stop before bowling me over was impressive.) Friday night was the opening for my exhibit, A Larger View.

This exhibit is comprised of paintings from south central Nebraska, a bit of a change from last month's exhibit at LUX Center for the Arts, which was made up of paintings created from one small private property.

Creating two bodies of work in a short time is challenging and exciting, and opening receptions are a great opportunity to visit with folks about how that happens and what it takes. The Burkholder Project always draws a terrific crowd of art loving people.

Then it was dash home Friday night for a few hours of sleep before setting up Art on the Green, part of our community's Independence Day celebration.

After a few rumbles of thunder during the night, the morning dawned cool and clear. Our weather was heaven for artists who plan on spending the day under their awnings sharing their talents with the public.

Of course I got great pix of Chris Haussler wowing the crowd with his lampwork beading, and neglected to take photos of my own booth. I was there, I promise.

I'm delighted and grateful to know artists like Jim & Janet Butler, Sally Jurgensmier, Jean Cook, Barb Dedrickson, Dianne Brei,Chris & Steph Haussler, Nancy Fairbanks, Helen Johnson and Suzann Johnson and Carrie Marx. I'm especially grateful to Handsome Husband, who is always there for me and keeps me on track.

It's been a busy week. My goal today is to lift nothing heavier than a glass of lemonade.

Eddie, winner of the Happy Hounds Contest, and I wish you a safe, enjoyable Independence Day celebration.

Your Weekend Calendar

2011-06-26T07:54:00.000-07:00

On my calendar this week – and hopefully yours as well:

You’re invited to a fresh new exhibit of oils and pastels opening Friday, July 1^st at The Burkholder Project in Lincoln, Ne. This collection of paintings is titled “A Larger View” and reflects my travels up and down the gravel roads of south central Nebraska.

Joining me in the Outback Gallery will be metal artist Mary Kolar. Her creations are beautiful and delightfully quirky. Take a break from lighting sparklers and lady fingers, and join Lincoln for the First Friday Art Walk in the Haymarket District. The Burkholder will be open from 7:00pm to 9:00 just for you.

The town we’ve called home for the last long while will be hosting a good old fashioned Independence Day celebration called "Discover Geneva-Patriotism" starting on Saturday, July 2^nd.

Join us in the shade of the Fillmore County Courthouse lawn in Geneva, Nebraska on Saturday, July 2nd from 9:30 am to 5:00 pm for Art on the Green. We’ve got a great line-up of artists and artisans who will be glad to visit with you about their work. You’ll see an amazing array of art, including: Nancy Fairbanks - ceramics; Leroy Von Glan – ceramics; Diane Beir – melted glasswork; Pixybug Designs – lampwork and jewelry; Helen Waring Johnson – photography; and painters in an interesting collection of styles and media including Susan deWit, Suzann Johnson, Jean Cook, Janet Butler, Carrie Marx and myself. Keep your fingers crossed for blue skies and cool temps.

In addition to our Art on the Green, the Courthouse Square will be abuzz with lots of activities for you and your family including quilt shows, inflatables for the kids, a dog show, lots to eat and tons more throughout the entire weekend.
Stop by and say hello!

In Dad's Shadow

2011-06-19T13:48:00.000-07:00

My siblings and I are quite different in the ways we’ve chosen to live in this world, yet we spring from the same creative stew.

Our parents were a product of the Great Depression, which means that their families used everything they owned with great care and ingenuity. I’ve heard my father say that when it came time to butcher pigs for the table, everything was used but the squeal.

Whatever creativity my siblings and I have now surely came in some part from a climate of necessity brought on by living in difficult times.

Commute 6 x 9 pastel Private Collection

On Father’s Day, I honor my father, whose talents and empathy surely were born during the Dust Bowl, yet flourished in a mind fertile and open to wonder.

Dad was a tinkerer, - that’s what he called it. He enjoyed being in his basement workshop, creating what we needed, or thought we needed. He whistled while he worked quite literally, busy with the necessity of raising 6 children on a teacher’s salary, and doing so with grace and cleverness. Dollhouses and tiny kitchens for my sisters and I, skateboards and jungle-gyms for the brothers, it was as much the challenge of the design and building as it was the need for keeping us satisfied. He built a guitar and then learned to play it, not so much because he enjoyed playing but because he wondered if he could.

We toured the Platte River in a flat-bottomed canoe built to withstand the excitement of wiggling children because it was more interesting to build one than to buy one. His first sailboat was built in the back yard, and the first of many remote-controlled airplanes were built in the basement, crashed in a field south of town, and rebuilt once again for another flight.

Leaves on Blue Water 24 x 18 pastel Private Collection

My siblings and I have chosen very different fields, all with a nod toward my Dad in his workshop. I see some of that influence even in my sons.

It was not his great desire, nor his determination, that brought the traits of creative endeavor to my siblings and me. It was simply the way he lived his life.

It’s not what we leave in boxes and piles that matters. It’s how we move through each day that leaves the greatest mark.

I wonder. What sort of mark will I leave?

Lessons From A Master

2011-06-12T12:46:00.000-07:00

Handsome Husband and I are just home from a field trip of sorts to Kansas City, Mo.

Our trip took us across northern Kansas on Highway 36, a beautiful strip of highway cutting through wheat fields and rolling pastures dimming into blue hills far into the distance. Those who claim Kansas is flat need only travel this area to see how beautiful this part of the country is.

Our field trip was inspired by the Nelson-Atkins ArtCenter’s exhibition of Claude Monet’s Agapanthus Triptych, painted from 1915 to 1926. (Interestingly, the agapanthus of the title was painted over sometime during the 11 years Monet worked on this painting.) Doubling the pleasure of the weekend was the opportunity to visit the southern branch of the Handsome Husband family tree and go to a cool jazz gig featuring our trombone playing nephew, Brian. The only way the weekend could have been better was if Santa Claus himself was there.

Our first stop was the Nelson-Atkins. I approached “The Monet” as if I were in a church; quietly, reverently, waiting for angels to proclaim the moment. I will even admit that I was prepared to fall to my knees in awe.

Claude Monet Water Lilies Series Agapanthus Tryptich panel three 1915-1926

The painting itself is beautiful without a doubt. Virtually abstract, the swirls of pigment moving from green to pink to blue in short dashes of color, accentuated by thick white figure-eight shapes captured my attention immediately. What I didn’t expect was the muscular surface (it’s the only way I can think of to describe it). Monet thought “out loud” with pigment and brush. He painted, considered, scraped off, painted more, painted over, changed his mind and did the whole thing over again and again. Rather that claiming the painting ‘finis!’, it is believed he simply ran out of time, dying before it was done. The surface shows this thought process; it is heavily textured in places, harsh marks show where he scraped and re-worked, and layers of paint hide groups of lilies painted in previous sessions. There are areas of paste-y pigment, not unpleasant but not entirely expected either from a master of painting. My college professors would have raised an eyebrow.

My knees didn’t buckle, nor did I hear angels sing.

It’ll be awhile before I have the experience completely evaluated. I'm not hard-hearted; the painting is beautiful. I am awed by Monet’s obsessive struggle to translate the physics of light into pigment. That awe includes the appreciation of the plain hard work that goes into this type of creative exploration. It is a lesson taken to heart.

Monet spent decades discovering what his water garden had to offer, right up until his passing from this earthly world. For me, as an artist exploring new territory there may be no moment of arrival, but simply, delightedly, perhaps painfully, the awareness of yet another step in the process until the work is declared complete - or the clock runs out.

2011 Patricia Scarborough Early Morning Spring 6 x 9 pastel

Tick tick tick tick . . .

On Safari

2011-06-05T08:56:00.000-07:00

Greetings Dear Reader, it’s so nice to have you stop by.

Lately, with the changing of the season (here in Nebraska it’s like a locomotive coming down the tracks at full speed) I’ve felt the need to refresh my stack of reference photos. Trees grow, split and tip over to reveal new compositions or spark fresh ideas. Plus, it’s a good reason to go for a long drive on a lovely spring day and hang out with Handsome Husband.

With a full gas tank, charged camera batteries and no time frame, we headed out to find photo-worthy scenery.

It appears at first glance that my corner of the world is a fairly flat, cultivated place. Mostly farmland, there aren’t many – or any – wide rushing rivers leading to dramatic waterfalls crashing down mountain cliffs. No dizzying hills looking out on blue oceans. However, with an eye toward what lies just beyond that field of freshly tilled dirt, in the shadow of an old cottonwood with its roots buried deep by a muddy creek, there are jewels to be discovered. And so we set out on a safari of sorts with eyes tuned in to whatever might be lurking just around the corner.

We drove miles of country road, squaring the leveled fields neatly at 90 degrees. I’ve got bed sheets with more interesting contours. It wasn’t until we missed a turn, literally taking the road less travelled, that our first treasure was revealed.

As we crested a hill (one of the few around) the earth dropped away and the world suddenly got much larger. Spring rains have renewed this old creek, and the pastures have responded as well.

Further down this same road we noticed a low area, a ditch really, still holding water from a downpour the day before.

The sun was rising higher in the sky causing deep shadows. The lush response of wild grasses and flowers to water puddling in the undergrowth revealed a corner of Eden, a mere 50 yards long and 30 yards wide.

A few miles further a glance down an impassable dirt road brought us to the edge of another slice of paradise, smaller than the last but a treasure nonetheless.

These tiny gems don’t have a long shelf life. They’ll disappear, go dormant, and re-appear unexpectedly.

The trick is to be aware, to be ready, to anticipate not where they’ll be, but that they will be, somewhere right under our noses, just beside the road we’ve driven down a hundred times before. I've done my homework and I'm ready, excited really, to get to my easel and paint.

Remember to Remember

2011-05-29T06:34:00.000-07:00

Today's blog happens to fall the day before Memorial Day here in the United States. Rather than add to the mountains of opinions, poetry and essays on the benefits/horror/patriotism/valor of conflict, I will simply ask you to take a moment to be grateful for what you have. Regardless of your political persuasion, please pause for just a short while and honor those who have given so much to make certain the rest of us can live our lives in freedom and comfort.

Ode to Green

2011-05-22T14:21:00.000-07:00

It wasn’t all that long ago that I was entirely, totally, completely sick of green.
Nebraska is a beautiful state, and despite chants of “Go Big Red” heard at every University of Nebraska sporting event, green is its natural color. But not "just green" like the green out of a tube, unnatural in every way.

To name a green in Nebraska is to name a thousand different colors. Elm trees are a very different green than the green of cottonwoods. Trees down by a river are a different green than trees standing in a pasture providing shade to cattle huddled underneath. In fact, for every kind of tree there is a separate green, which separates again into sunlit and shade, interior and exterior, early spring and late autumn.

@2010 Patricia Scarborough Refraction 7x5 oil

Available here

There’s a particular shade of green provided by the acres of lawn watered unnaturally by underground sprinklers. It’s different from the yards swept by sprinklers leashed to the house by miles of rubber hose which leave corners of sparse dry grass near the street.

garden hose green

Acres of corn provide a relentless blanket of green for miles and miles. Dry land corn, slightly less robust than its irrigated cousin, provides relief, but only of a duller sort.

Call it chartreuse, jade, lime, pea, pine, sage, verdigris, viridian or whatever, in the end, it’s always yellow and blue, with a dash of orange or red for relief. Cadmium yellow and ultramarine with cadmium orange; lemon yellow and cerulean blue with alizarin crimson; any combination of yellow with any combination of blue, with any combination of red in tiny but precious amounts to keep your teeth from grinding together from the sheer green-ness of it all. After months of painting green my stomach got queasy at the thought of one more verdant summer landscape, regardless whatever clever combination of pigments I came up with.

Then winter set in. Chlorophyll vanished. Whatever was green dried, fell, was swept away in winds from the Arctic Circle. Months passed and all memory of my impatience with green dissolved and disappeared.

@2011Patricia Scarborough, December, 5 pm 8x10 oil

A few weeks ago, spring came, sneaky at first but more recently like a high school marching band: loud, brassy, twirling batons and flags flying. Did I mention loud? Leaves of every kind unfurl, wave, salute, catch the sun, reflect and refract; green in all its glory.

work in progress, 30 x 40 oil on linen

Welcome home old friend. I admit now that I missed green just a little, proven by the piles of yellows and blues and crimsons on my palette. I'm refreshed by winter, ready to take on the challenge again.

Graduation Day

2011-05-15T07:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was graduation day in Geneva. Young people bright and shiny from their commencement ceremonies are staring into their futures with bravado and trepidation served alongside beautifully iced cakes, sloppy joes and devilled eggs.

At each home Handsome Husband and I visited to congratulate both the graduate and their parents, we saw familiar paintings on the walls. Beautifully presented in places of honor, some I had painted over 15 years ago. A couple were portraits of the very graduate we were celebrating. ( I’d share the images with you, but they’re old enough that they’re still old-timey photographs.)

I’m happy to say that those paintings looked pretty darned good. Tiny seeds of my current style were there, subtle evidence of the hand of the painter even after all these years. HH and I were deeply touched and pleased that the owners of these paintings still loved them even after a decade of style changes and room re-do’s.

What we artists do is not “just”, as in just a decoration, just something to set off a pretty chair, just our job. It’s something far more mysterious and meaningful, yet difficult to quantify.

The creative act, whether purposeful or not, whether writing, painting or singing, is about tying then to now. It’s about weaving a moment in one life into the heart of another. It is communicating something beyond words and across time. Art in any form is alchemy, changing molecules of paint, voice, fabric or steel into a personal consciousness, a souvenir of sorts.

I'm so much more aware of that as a result of the events of the weekend, being a part of the graduating of these fine young folk and seeing them into their new lives.
Happy graduation. Your life's education is just beginning.

De LUX Reception

2011-05-08T07:47:00.000-07:00

Friday night was the opening reception for my new collection of oils and pastels titled "Private Property" at LUX Center for the Arts in Lincoln, Ne.

Ho-lee Cow.
Huge thanks to the staff at LUX for their dedication and hard work. The exhibit looks amazing if I do say so myself. LUX is a classy space, and seeing these paintings beautifully presented was a real thrill. To top it off, the snacks were delicious. They even managed to get the weather to cooperate.
A sampling of the evening:

These are the fellas to whom I am most grateful. (Thanks Ann, for the great photo!) Their support and appreciation keeps me going.

You might recognize a couple of them from last week's post.

"Private Property" will be on exhibit at LUX Center for the Arts through June 25th. Stop in, and spend some time. See what I see in the overlooked spaces of private property.

Memory Lane

2011-05-01T15:52:00.000-07:00

Greetings Friends-

Some of you may have noticed that Handsome Husband and I have been away. We made a delightful trip to the land of vacationers with Uncle Brudah and Sis. It was great to get away, and always great to come home again.

The four of us had a great time monkeying around, and reminiscing about old times. And because it's also just a few days before my opening at LUX Center for the Arts in Lincoln, HH and I were also thinking back to my first exhibit there, just a short 15 years ago.
Because I'm still fairly jet lagged from our trip, I'll leave you with two of our favorites from that very first LUX exhibit. Both paintings are of family members, the first our ancient dog, the second our very fine sons at a very young, very hip age. It's fun to see how we've all changed.

Collection of the Museum of Nebraska Art, Kearney, Ne.

Gentle reminder..."Private Property" will open Friday, May 6th at LUX Center for the Arts in Lincoln, Ne. and run through June 25th. If you can make it to the opening reception Friday, May 6th from 5 - 8 pm, that'd be lovely.

You enjoy, and I'll haul my tired bones to the laundry pile.

Details Details

2011-04-24T08:14:00.000-07:00

This week I delivered my upcoming exhibit, titled "Private Property", to it's destination at LUX Center for the Arts in Lincoln, Ne. Its a very cool space and I wanted to make a good impression on the staff. I'd worked for months to put together a collection of paintings that would show not only my skills as a painter, but also my readiness to be on that particular stage.

There's alot to putting an exhibit together. Creating the artwork may be the easiest link. The devil's in the details, y'know.

My newsletter went out last week reminding my readers of this exhibit. Despite my checking, re-checking and double-checking the re-check, I put the wrong date down for the opening reception. There is no Friday, May 5th in this year of our Lord 2011. Try Friday May 6th instead. And I assumed (you know what that means) that the exhibit would run from the beginning of the month. Not so. The very official dates for the exhibit are May 6th (yes, it's that Friday) through June 25th.

Last year I took Alyson Stanfield's advice and made fabric enclosures for delivering artwork. Made from blankets, they were royal red and leopard print, very hip and cool, because I'm a hip and cool artist, oh yessiree. Alyson explained that delivering artwork in proper packaging was an important detail that shouldn't be overlooked. I scored on that point. My artwork would be delivered in style.

These homemade slips are hip and cool, however, they are not waterproof. A detail of a detail overlooked. I woke up early on delivery day to the deep throbbing sounds of thunder, interspersed with the crisp rat-a-tat-tatting of hail on the house. Or maybe that was just rain being driven by 30 mile per hour winds. It was hard to tell.

My vision of driving up to LUX's front door looking like a capable accomplished artist took a definite U-turn.
After a bit of fretting and fuming, I realized that there are some details a person can control, and some they can't. Despite all my whining and griping, the weather falls into the latter category. The more painful realization was that no amount of nifty red and leopard-spotted art bags were going to out-cool soggy artwork.

Do you suppose it was bad form to show up with 12 paintings stashed in garbage bags?

Taking a deep, humbling breath, I packed the car with paintings nestled in leopard spots and deep, ruby-red fabric - and white plastic garbage bags with bright blue draw-strings. Very un-cool, despite my best efforts to tie the draw-strings in a sassy bow.

You're invited to the opening reception on Friday May 6th from 5:00 pm to 8:00 pm. (If you come on Friday, May 5th you will be 6 years late.) If it's raining, not to worry. There's a pile of garbage bags in the gallery's store room. I'm sure they'll share.

You Can Quote Me on That

2011-04-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

There are several quotes I appreciate. They're exactly the sort of thing I would scrawl out on large paper and tack to my studio wall for both inspiration to lofty purpose and for keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground.

Painting, n.: The art of protecting flat surfaces from the weather, and exposing them to the critic.
Ambrose Bierce
(So much for lofty purposes...)

Painting is one thing but art is another. You can teach an elephant to paint, but you can't teach it to be an artist.
Warren Criswell
(Touche to all you elephants out there who think you can paint just because someone ties a brush to your tail. If you were a real artist, you'd tie your own brush to your own doggone tail.)

I've never really had a hobby, unless you count art, which the IRS once told me I had to declare as a hobby since I hadn't made money with it.
Laurie Anderson
('Nuff said!)

It takes two to paint. One to paint, the other to stand by with an axe to kill him before he spoils it.
William Merritt Chase
(Would this position be under the professional or blue collar listing in the want ads?)

What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit.
John Updike
(I love this quote. Breathing room. A space where spirit exists.)

The most common form of despair is not being who you are.
Soren Kierkegaard
(Frank Sinatra knew this when he belted out "I gotta be meeeeeee...)

Good art is not what it looks like, but what it does to us.
Roy Adzak
(This should be written on every wall in every art museum.)

These are my faves. What would you scrawl on your studio wall?

Perfect Ten

2011-04-10T06:48:00.000-07:00

This Tuesday, April 12th, is the anniversary of Handsome Husband’s birth.

He’ll be 55 years old. Fifty – five. 5 + 5.

In other words, he’s a perfect 10. That he is.

I want you to know about the man behind the woman behind the blog.

Handsome Husband has been at my side for 35 years, so I’m a bit of an expert on him. Even at that, describing him to you will be a bit of a challenge. How do I find words to tell you what a fine man he is?

I could list the many things he does to help, like taking over household chores so I can spend time in my studio, or hauling display panels or attending receptions when he’d rather be home in his jams. What I want you to know is that it’s not the list of things he does that I appreciate so much (and I do), it’s how he does them. Enthusiastically, patiently, kindly, always in my corner, he is the foundation of our family and my rock.

HH supported me fully in making the leap from sometime-squeeze-it-in painting to all-out-go-for-it-full-time artist. He’s the one who encouraged me to leave my paycheck job and follow my dream. Never ever did he say, “Gee, are you sure?”, or “Why would you want to do that?”, or anything of the kind. In fact, in his calm sure way he said, “If it doesn’t work, you can get another job”, in a way that told me it would work. His belief in my ability to have a successful art career gave me the courage to step out into my future with confidence. His belief in me and my abilities has made it possible for me to be who I am.

HH is willing to listen to me talk my way through the issues I’m faced with, whether it’s deciphering a color wheel or figuring my taxes. He readily admits that he doesn’t understand a lot of what goes into either the business end or the creative end of being an artist. He is, however, willing to share a conversation to help me evaluate what I have learned and to figure out what it is I need.

Handsome Husband is the best kind of human being. He is an honest and ethical man, one who believes in others until they give him a reason not to. His goal is to make those around him rise to the occasion, and generously gives them all the credit they are due. He is loyal to his friends and family.

Of course he has his faults. Sometimes his socks don’t match and he’s not bothered a bit by that. He can’t tie a tie and has no interest in learning as long as clip-ons are still being made. He’s been known to fall asleep on me during a fascinating conversation about the difference between cerulean blue and cobalt blue. Shocking, I know.

Happy Birthday Sweetie. You're my perfect 10.

Delivery Music

2011-04-03T12:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Handsome Husband and I traveled up to the Norfolk Arts Center to pick up my paintings from their 4th Juried Exhibit.

"Is that all there is to it? HH asked, " Just waltz in, pick up your paintings and head for the car?"

"Yes," I said. "It’s kind of like dropping them off, only in reverse."

"Hmph", he harumphed. "Seems like there should be something more to it than just this."

I know what he means. Simply walking in and walking out seems incomplete. After all, a lot of effort goes into making it into these exhibits.

First off you create a masterful piece of art. Photograph it multiple times. Fill out the application form – completely. Properly identify images on CD. Write or update your artist’s statement (which takes monumental dedication), and bio. Write out a check to accompany the application and CD, and dash to the Post Office just minutes before closing. Then wait for the magic envelope to appear announcing your acceptance into the exhibit.

Hopefully, the next step is to deliver the artwork. Sometimes that involves building a safe container for shipping with another mad dash to the Post Office, other times a drive of several hours for hand delivery. It's a big committment in time, finances and energy.

HH and I believe a little TLC on the part of the exhibiting venue is in order.

A parade would be a nice touch. Nothing fancy like New York’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade of course. A couple of high school bands, a baton twirler, one of those guys in the little scooters would be fine. The bands wouldn’t even have to play the Hallalujah Chorus, a simple high school marching band rendition of "Louie Louie" would suffice. A couple horses bringing up the rear.

Since some venues might not have the resources to produce even a couple of clown cars, couldn’t there at least be music? Maybe it’s my television-addled brain, but it seems to me that when significant events occur on television (which, as we all know, is a perfect reflection of real life) there is theme music, even if it’s only barely audible. Something along the line of Theme from Rocky would really set the tone.
If you're really confident about your artwork, I Feel Good would be awesome to march in to. Anything to add to the occasion, something uplifting and exciting to herald the delivery of the next Best of Show and Big Check painting.

Extra attention is even more appropriate when picking up artwork after the exhibit has concluded. Egos might be a bit raw if your art didn’t sell, or wasn’t noticed by the judge. At this time, a parade is probably unnecessary since a parade for 3 (Best of Show, first and second runner up) is extravagant by anyone’s standards. However, a small group of volunteers could easily form a line to pat you on the back, congratulate you on your effort, or even chat about the lovely weather we’re having. I nominate Frank Sinatra signing “My Way” ,
or even Tubthumping by Chumbawumba. (Or maybe its Chumbawumba by Tubthumping. I can never tell.)

What extra attention would you like when delivering or picking up? A harpist? Perhaps balloons released upon your arrival. Doves? (Not so much on the birds. There are usually repercussions.)

You choose. How would you like to be treated when you next deliver your artwork to an exhibit?

Hug Your Local Artist

2011-03-27T05:32:00.000-07:00

I’ve had three lovely things happen to me lately that have served to keep me going through the dreary days of not-quite-spring. These small events encouraged me when I needed a boost, and got me to thinking.

I have the pleasure of claiming a delightful woman in her 90’s as my friend. For fun I gave her a package containing 4 greeting cards with images of my work on them. Several weeks later I happened to see them carefully laid out on her table, unused. “I’m waiting for frames for them”, she said. “I could never actually use them, they’re too beautiful for that!” For that sweet comment I carefully matted and framed them, and now they’re hanging over her couch in an artful display.

Long long ago I painted a mural above the fireplace in a woman’s home at her request. It was a simple painting of her homestead long since destroyed by water from a reclamation project. She passed away years ago, and honestly, I’d forgotten about it. Just recently I was visiting with the young woman whose family moved into that house and she said to me, “The mural is still there, and we love it. We’re thrilled to have your painting in our home. Our 4-year old makes up stories about the family who used to live in the house.”

And just last week an artist whose work I’ve always admired called me on the phone. She said, “I wanted to let you know I’ve just spent a lovely afternoon looking at your artwork on the web. Thank you for making the afternoon so pleasant.”

And here's what I got to thinking about.

There’s a lot of talk out there about Advocating For The Arts. Usually the conversation turns to dollar amounts in the millions, federal funding, public art projects and the like. Support is not just voting for a bill or waiting for a donor to build a theater.What we forget is that supporting the Arts can - and should - begin at a very basic level.

Embracing the Arts is as simple as a conversation between you and someone else. It’s appreciating what another person does, and communicating that feeling. It’s a simple “thank you” or “nice job”.

Its signing your kid up for a dance class and letting them learn the joy of movement no matter how clumsy they are. It’s learning how to let that kid play with pipe cleaners and paint and not worry about whether they’re gifted or not. It's learning to ask questions about what you see, learning to wonder about how something came to be, whether it’s three-year old’s tempera paint blob or the Eiffel Tower.

It’s Handsome Husband listening to his wife struggling to get the idea out.

It’s not complicated, really. Think about it. What do you do to support the Arts?

Tribute to the Beauty of Fire

2011-03-20T10:00:00.000-07:00

Each week I pontificate about some fascinating aspect of my fascinating life. Every now and then, however, I'm smart enough to step aside and let you in on something great.

Recently, Handsome Husband and I stood slack-jawed before the large charcoal drawings of Marlene Mueller, Wayne State College Art Professor. Beautiful in their terrifying depiction of death by fire of an old farm building, these drawings had us mesmerized, so much so that a month after we first saw them at the Norfolk Arts Center in Norfolk, Ne., we're still talking about them.

"Into the Ashes" is a visual record of Mueller’s experience as a volunteer firefighter. Rather than glamorize the heroic efforts of men and women in the act of saving, she uses charcoal to render stinging smoke, crackling heat and the hissing of evaporating water as flames eat a structure down to its ashes.

These drawings are beautiful. Charcoal, a remnant of the burning process, is used here to create moments of power and grace, the balance between what fire and water will do to, and for, each other.

Looking for beauty in the destructive forces of heat and flame is not something we’re used to. And yet, there we were, HH and I, moving back and forth from image to image, following the fire as it ate at the timbers of a once useful structure. And as I write this, I realize we weren’t following fire at all. We were taken in by Mueller’s expert weaving of charcoal into textures and rhythms and smudges, calling us into and away from each piece before we felt heat or absorbed the acrid smell of smoke into our clothes. That's something too for an artist to reach across time and experience and exact a toll on the memories our senses have of a too-close experience with fire.

My knee-jerk reaction to defining beauty would most likely include rich color, a calming sense of rhythm or texture, a perception of atmosphere to be breathed in deeply. In a daring mood maybe I would include tension, asymmetry, maybe even dissonance if carried out in a harmonious way. Something to hang above my couch and make me feel good.

Mueller has done what all proper artists should do. She has called us to look more closely, to consider more consciously the world around us. Not just the lovely, the soft or precious, but every aspect of the cycle of what exists, or ceases to exist.

Sandhill Crane Story

2011-03-13T13:02:00.000-07:00

Greetings All-

The earth has a rhythm of her own. This blue orb we inhabit for such a small moment has been hanging in space for time untold, and will be here long after the most educated, advanced and civilized human has turned to dust.
There is power in these rhythms, both the power to destroy and the power to sustain life.

Handsome Husband and I, along with all of you, were astounded and deeply touched by the re-shaping of Japan by earthquake and tsunami.

Platte River south of Kearney, Nebraska, March 2011

At the opposite end of the spectrum, we were astounded and touched as well by the return of the Sandhill Cranes through central Nebraska.

This ancient rhythm of life has occurred through centuries of time, yet it never ceases to amaze.

HH and I took time out from the routine and spent an afternoon following the Platte River west to the place where half a million cranes will stop for a short time to re-fuel on their way north to Canada and Siberia.

To witness this ancient ritual and hear their constant strange vocalizing brought calm and assurance that the rhythm of life would go on, and helped put our shallow worries and needs into historic perspective.

As evening rose on the river and cranes began to settle into the shallow waters for safe-keeping, HH and I felt comforted by the strength and unwavering determination of these truly magnificent creatures.

We are reminded that time passes methodically, spasmodically, unfairly or momentously. The earth heaves and adjusts. Sandhill Cranes and other creatures will migrate thousands of miles north and south, unaware of the moods or accomplishments of their human counterparts.

I am put in my place and find that comforting somehow.

Interview with Karine (Ka-ree-nah)

2011-03-06T15:22:00.000-08:00

Greetings All-
Handsome Husband and I are taking the day to hang out with family and celebrate my Best of Show honor from the Norfolk Arts Center 4th Juried Exhibition. Why yes, thankyew, I am very honored.

The following is an interview with my dear friend, California artist Karine M Swenson. Karine is an experienced gallerist, artist and businesswoman whose talents and grace I admire a great deal.

Karine, you've both owned a gallery and been an artist represented by a gallery. What do you wish artists knew, and what do you wish galleries knew?
I wish artists would try to learn more about the gallery before they waltzed in, art under their arm, and asked for a show. Running a gallery is a lot of work, and most galleries have a specific vision in mind as to what kind of art/artists they show. Another no-no: going to an opening, when the gallery is having a show for someone ELSE, and start talking about getting your work shown and seen. This shows a total lack of respect for the time and money a gallery has put out to draw people in to see the art and make contacts and sales. Not to mention inconsiderate of the artist being shown. This is their show, not yours. Galleries have expenses, too. Working with a gallery requires mutual respect and appreciation. If you don't have that with a gallery, it's best not to show there.

I wish more galleries knew more about art, art history and selling art. I have encountered too many galleries with little or no experience in art, who expect to make lots of money. Is it too much to ask that a gallery owner does a little homework? I am sure there are many galleries out there who aren't like this. Unfortunately, I have run into a startlingly large number of galleries who are JUST like this. Selling art is about finding out what the customer is really drawn to, asking questions, and then showing art that might fit the bill. Buying almost anything is an emotional decision, and buying art is even more that way. A good gallery is willing to get to know their artists and their work so that they can talk intelligently about the art and the person who created it. This way, they will draw people into the experience of the art. They aren't just looking for the next superstar. They understand that the professional artist works on her craft and continues to get better and better, with the help and support of collectors.

How do you keep motivated?
I once read on a box of tea a quote about how creativity demands everything you have to give it; talent alone is not enough. I wish I could remember the exact quote. I think about that a lot when I feel down or frustrated. I also find it helpful to read about other artists, because you realize how hard they worked at their art. I look at my paintings and see what they have yet to become and think, "I just need to keep painting, and then these paintings will be everything I think they should be." I just want to become really good at painting. Of course, every now and then a painting will turn out better than I expected, and that always keeps me going. It is so exciting when that happens.

Many artists live in sparsely populated areas or don't have a commun ity of artists to rely on. Is there a book that you would recommend?
There are several that I like to read and re-read. The War of Art by Steven Pressfield is a favorite of mine. If I am having trouble getting into the studio, I can pick that book up, read one chapter or even two lines, and I am ready to go. I also love The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron.

Is the art world different from state to state, east coast to west coast?
I have never lived back east, but the art world doesn't really vary that much from state to state that I have seen. When we lived on Maui, I found the art world there to be extremely difficult to crack into. The rents were so high, most galleries would only show internationally known artists. They wanted the artists who had a proven track record already. The galleries that did show local artists were packed full, and I had to be pretty aggressive to get them to show my work. I am not sure it is different anywhere else. An artist who is just beginning their career has to look for galleries that cater to local artists, or emerging artists. Be persistent! I went back to one gallery every month for about 6 months before the owner finally took some work. Every month when I visited her, I had photos of brand new work. It took me another 6 months before I had a piece of my art hanging on the wall.

How do you balance the need for solitude with the need for artistic companionship?
I have learned that studio time is something one must fight for. It is too easy to allow social commitments (or any other commitment, for that matter) to take away from that time in the studio. The studio comes first, and then when I have had good studio time, I reward myself with social visits. I am fortunate to have found friends who are also artists, so most of them understand the need for studio time. I am learning to be selective about who I spend time with. There are some people who do not respect my choice to be an artist and my commitment to my art. Those kind of people I keep at a distance. We are still friends, but not people I necessarily seek out when I want social time.

Has an artistic companionship changed the way you create?
I wouldn't necessarily say artistic companionship has changed the way I create, but I will say that having a close artist friend who I trust has been a huge benefit in my artistic journey. Sometimes, you get too close to your own work and can't see it clearly anymore. It is so helpful to have a fresh perspective. It is also helpful to know another artist who understands the joys, the triumphs, the frustrations and even the devastation of being an artist. Makes me feel a little less alone and nutty.

Any advice you'd give someone just starting out?
Decide what you really want art to be for you. Is it a hobby? Something you do for relaxation? Or is it more? I think everyone should have some kind of creativity in their life, but being a professional artist is not for everyone. Or maybe I should say, being a life-long artist. I am a life-long artist. If you know what you expect from your art, or what you think art is for you, you will be doing yourself a huge favor. I spent 10 years of my life trying to pretend I wasn't an artist. When I realized I had sabotaged my ability to have any kind of career so I could paint, it was a wake up call. It still took me about 5 more years to finally have the courage to do art full time. I may have to get another job, but at least now I know I am an artist, and always will be, no matter what.

Take a moment to visit her web site here:
http://karineswenson.com/

and here:

http://karineswenson.etsy.com/

and read her charming blog here:

http://ponosmom.blogspot.com/

Balancing Act

2011-02-27T05:29:00.000-08:00

We, you and I, are encouraged, possibly from the day we stagger our first steps across a room, to compare our abilities against another. We get an A in elementary school when others get a B. We get a blue ribbon when others receive purple. A check is presented, and others get either a larger check or none at all. The more “other-oriented” comparisons we get the more we – and others - understand ourselves as Good-Better-Best. This happens in very nearly every facet of our lives, from running laps to creating art.

At the same time, as creative individuals, we are encouraged to find ourselves, to delve deeper and deeper into truth; our truth, someone’s truth, the Truth of the Ages. It is suggested we ignore the opinions of others and do what our hearts tell us to do: to scribble unconsciously, to throw, scoop, or fling as our inner explorer demands. We search for our way; not a mentor’s way, not a teacher’s way nor the way of any other human that came before us (as if all other creative acts are passe somehow). We head into the jungle dreaming of finding Atlantis, Mr. Livingstone, or at least some small evidence of sasquatch.

These two facets, the creating and the comparison, cause an oxymoronic situation that we as artists must deal with every time we step to the easel, the potter’s wheel, the writing table, loom or sewing machine. Those of us who have a desire to make a living from our creative work (or at least pay our own expenses now and then) are given the task of balancing this wobbly scenario: Be yourself, but not so much that the rest of us can’t like you.

This is on my mind now because I’m preparing for a solo exhibit, and also because it’s the season for juried exhibitions. Both require equal amounts of Intrepid Explorer vs a Please Like Me! attitude.

And that’s the paradox, isn’t it?

So far I’ve been lucky in that what I love to paint, and how I paint it, have been fairly acceptable to the public and the jurist. This means I can continue to do what I do in the way I do it and not feel like a lone voice in the wilderness. Having said that, I also know that there are avenues for me to explore which may not meet with the same acceptance.

To remain in the circulation of the viewing public is the desire of most of us, certainly. Very few of us would bother if we’re ignored, or if the reaction to our work is so bland it doesn’t register. Exclusivity works best when we’re on the inside looking out.

But while there is comfort in acceptance, there is also – for me - need for discomfort, for challenge and growth. I'm not after the source of the Nile, but I do wonder about it.

I’ll figure it out. It won’t happen tomorrow, or even soon.

How do you make it work – or do you?

2011-02-20T12:22:00.000-08:00

Egad, Dear Reader, I find that I've whittled away the day trying, trying to get organized.

I'm not a twit about getting and staying organized, but I'll be the first to admit that I'd rather paint than enter info into my various spreadsheets and inventory programs. Annoyingly, the tax man doesn't care about that, so I spend a few hours now and then devising clever ways to keep track of myself.

Because there are still a few loose ends to tie up, I'll leave you with a recent pastel painting. Lately I've been interested in the way trees and the sky weave themselves together. It'll be the theme for an exhibit coming up this spring.

Take a moment, why don't you, to notice this interesting slice of landscape. Tiny brittle twigs reach into space, creating a soft merging of light and solid, blurring the line beteen positive and negative space. Let me know what you think.

Sweets for My Sweeties

2011-02-13T18:24:00.000-08:00

Greetings Dear Readers

Thanks for the great emails and comments about last week's post, "A Day in the Life". Seems more than a few of you could sympathize.

It's Valentine's Day Eve, and I had planned on buying you all roses, but honestly, I'm too cheap. Candy was my second thought, but I know you're still on your New Year's diet and I'd hate to derail that. I guess you could come over for dinner, but really, can't you do better than that?

Yes!

Email me a sweet hello and I'll add you to my newsletter list. This once-a-month missive lets you in on the inside workings at Scarborough Studios. To sweeten the pot, I'll also send you a very cool magnet created using "Mill Road, September" (which, if you've been paying attention, was juried into the Norfolk Arts Center 4th Annual Juried Exhibit to be held this March in Norfolk, Ne.)

At 2" x 3-1/2" it's perfect for your fridge, filing cabinet, or to slip inside your friend's wallet to erase their credit cards. If, after reading a few of them you decide you never want to see another, simply unsubscribe. We'll still be friends.

If you already receive my newsletter, I'll send you a magnet for being so smart.

The Fine Print: I will never, ever share your email with anyone, and I promise not to stuff your email inbox with anything but my cleverly worded once-a-month newsletter. You'll have to give me a snail mail address for the magnet. I swear on all my oil brushes I will never use it again without your permission. E v e r.

Yes, that's my name printed subtly across the bottom.

My supply of magnets is limited, so don't fiddle around too long. When they're gone, they're gone. Zip me an email here.
Happy Valentines Day folks.

YOU!

A Day in the Life of a Painting

2011-02-06T12:02:00.000-08:00

A day in the life of a painting...

Make some marks.

Think about it awhile.

Mix up some more paint. Make some more marks.

Wonder why you made those marks. Think about starting laundry. Wonder about a guy who could invent the washing machine.

Decide the original marks are acceptable and define areas of movement, value and temperature.

Ponder the composition. Forget to remember to start laundry. Wonder what it would be like to be an airline pilot. Think about starting supper.

Continue developing the shapes. Add more texture to the foreground. Wish I'd paid better attention in art class.

Look at the painting upside down. Think about putting laundry in dryer. Remember it's not yet in the washer.

Study the painting in a mirror. Notice the mirror needs dusting. Remember to think about starting laundry.

Consider what kind of marks would read as tree limbs. Wonder what happened to the kid down the block we used to chase in 3rd grade.

Focus. Drum up everything I've learned about color theory. Forget what day it is. Step back, take a breath.

Decide it's done. Do a happy dance. Go start laundry.

Decide it's not done. Sweat bullets. Make a few changes. Relax and pat myself on the back, I'm done - again.

Skip the happy dance, go start laundry and supper. No, really.

Plan B

2011-01-30T18:52:00.000-08:00

"You can't fit a square peg into a round hole." Handsome Husband

Last week I started a line of inquiry into Michael Gelb’s national best seller, “How to think Like Leonardo Da Vinci, Seven steps to Genius Every Day”. I had truly hoped that reading this book with Mavis and with you would open our collective minds to the mysteries of creative thought and endeavor.

Abandon Ship.

Like wearing 6-inch heels to the prom, this book was a bad fit. I fell in love with the idea, but the reality didn’t match up.

No offense, Mr. Gelb. You did what you needed to do to sell your book. The truth is, however, that this is not about Leonardo Da Vinci, or steps to genius. But then, if you had titled it “How to Think Like Bernie Schwartz, Seven Steps to Paying Attention”, no one, including Bernie Schwartz, would be paying attention.

What Gelb does do is remind us that there’s a pretty amazing world out there, and that we may be unaware of that because we have narrowed our focus to those ideas that are habitual, or perhaps have a foundation that needs to be re-examined. He has developed some interesting exercises that are designed to prompt us to open our minds, not only to new experiences, but also to the understanding of how we got to where we are. I like that. It’s a good thing to examine the roots of our opinions and thoughts, especially as our world gets smaller and smaller and we mix and mingle with others from histories much different than our own.

I’m glad I own the book, and I’ll peruse it now and then remind myself to pause and wonder about those things I may be passing by. I can dash around full of myself with the best of them, passing up opportunities to learn new things in my desire to get somewhere faster. In fact, just the other morning as I was scurrying to an early morning meeting I heard the ghost of Leonardo whispering to me to slow down and absorb the exquisite quiet of the morning air. I did, and my day was better for it.

I will also go to the library and check out a book about Leonardo and figure out for myself who this man was, and why we don’t see more of his type around. And I’ll give myself a pass on becoming a genius. It’s probably overrated anyway.

You’re excused too.

Be Like Leo - Step One

2011-01-23T06:44:00.000-08:00

"Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.” Albert Einstein

Long time collaborator Mavis Penney and I have, from time to time, read the same books together for both pleasure and elucidation, sharing points we've been challenged by or disagreed with. It's been great for me to use brain cells that might not be used otherwise. Recently we agreed to read Michael Gelb's book, "How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci". For fun we're inviting you to join us in this conversation.

This is not a Cliff's Notes version of Gelb's book. My intention is not to critique Gelb's research or writing style. The purpose of this study is to examine what one author has determined to be a system to which one might subscribe, the goal of which is to improve one's investment in their world. And that's a really convoluted way of saying that we're taking a look at Gelb's recipe for getting more out of each day, and for going to bed with a bit more satisfaction than we had yesterday.

My first thought at Mavis' suggestion for reading this book was, "Sure!" After all, who wouldn't like to think like the greatest thinker of all time? I'm in!" Creator of the first flying machine, sculptor, painter, scientist, architect and all around ponderer of just about everything, Leonardo is considered one of the greatest minds since, well, ever. Leonardo da Vinci is the primary example of human potential in the realm of discovery and renaissance thinking. For the next 7 weeks, this blog will focus on each of Gelb's "steps" for enhancing our inner Leonardo. Will I march into March able to understand algebra, or the theory behind atomic energy? Probably not. But I - and you if you choose to come along - will hopefully use these exercises to expand our horizons just a bit to include a new sense of wonder and appreciation for the world in which we live.

How does one achieve the kind of status given to Leonardo Da Vinci? You're thinking "Sure, get someone to pay me to do nothing but think all day and I could come up with some pretty cool stuff, too." Let's just get this on the table right off the bat, shall we?  Let's agree that Leonardo lived in a special time.  It was safe to think outside the box and test new theories after centuries of heavy handed control condemning anything approaching enlightenment.  Da Vinci also had benefactors, which allowed him the time and resources to ponder deeply anything that caught his attention.

Even at that, he was different than the average 15th Century guy. Why?

Gelb says the first step to thinking like Leonardo is to be curious. About everything.

Are you? And why not?

Today we are repeatedly clobbered with alarms, bells, whistles, and warnings to slow down, hurry up and move over. Elevators have music to chase away the intense boredom that sweeps over us during the several seconds - seconds - that we wait to arrive at the next floor. Children, youth and adults focus on tiny little electronic hand-held games and gadgets to fill the spaces between jobs, games, dance lessons and real conversations. From the time they can stand upright and alone, children are whisked off to lessons, games and pageants for "learning experiences". Which leads me to education, which is not learning at all, but "outcomes".  Who would Leonardo Da Vinci have been had he been born in the last 60 years? That's something to think about.

We don't have time to be curious. More honestly, we don't take time. (Using Google to flit around from link to link chasing information doesn't count as curiosity.)

Gelb invites us, in a series of exercises and assignments, to take that time. To pay attention. To pause and ask: how? Why? What color? How did it get that way? And when?

Curiosita. Take time, unplug and s l o w d o w n. Wonder about something, anything. A shadow. A texture.  A rule.  A religion. Allow that question to form. You don't even have to dash out and find the answer, at least not yet. For now allow wonder and interest to develop and grow.

Your thoughts?

"When you're curious, you find lots of interesting things to do.” Walt Disney

Moving Forward

2011-01-16T19:00:00.000-08:00

In the spirit of last week's post (where've I been, where'm I going?), I'm going to share a couple of images that I thought were done. I've even gone so far as to post them here recently for the world to see. However, after not having had them on my easel for a couple of weeks, I decided that, nope, there were still some things that needed tweaking.
This actually happens a lot. I don't know if it's the excitement of the creative process or the brain's ability to edit what we see to what we desire to see, but oftentimes a painting needs some breathing room and a fresh eye before it can be declared "finis!". What looks lovely and complete on Monday will sometimes look a bit unkempt by Friday. This sort of hide and seek can go on for several days or even weeks. It's just part of the process. ( A painter I admire immensely shared with me that his wife will not allow his paintings to be hung in their own home because he keeps taking them off the wall to finish them - again.)

This pastel painting was "finished" a couple of weeks ago. As you can see, I even wrapped it with a border and copyright notice.
Yesterday I was straightening up my studio (no comments please) and looked at it one more time. The delight and pleasure I'd hoped to experience just wasn't there anymore, and that's not a good feeling to have. Back onto the easel it went.
(Aside - when people ask how long a painting takes, it's hard to explain that alot of the work that goes into a painting involves thinking about it, staring at it, ignoring it and more thinking about it. I painted a delightful landscape that took 6 years - s i x y e a r s - to finish, and it was only 6 inches by 8 inches! But ooh, baby, when it was done, it was finis!)

The changes I made were subtle but important. Deepening some colors, a few visible strokes in the right places, breaking up some of the spaces in the distance all helped to bring the painting to completion. Again. So far.

Same situation with this painting. I thought I loved it, and then happened to glance across it looking for something else. It hit me that I needed to make a few adjustments to be completely satisfied, or at least as satisfied as an artist can be about her work.

Again, the changes are not huge, but important, at least to me. And to be quite honest, seeing this painting in a new environment shows me that there are one or two more little tweaks...

In another vein altogether, Mavis and I are reading Michael Gelb's "How to Think Like Leonardo DaVinci". Over the years we've read Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way" and Molly Gordon's "Accidental Entrepreneur" together as well. We've discovered that despite the fact that we live in different countries, we share a desire to learn and to challenge ourselves and each other. Discussing a subject from our different viewpoints is enlightening and challenging. To that end, we've decided to read one chapter in Gelb's book weekly, and discuss our discoveries with each other. I'm inviting you to join us in this adventure. Artist or plumber, accountant or race car driver, you will probably have an experience to share that we can all benefit from. We'll start here, at this blog. We may change to facebook if we decide the conversation flows more smoothly. I'll let you know.

Take a quick peek over your shoulder to see where you've been, and open yourself up to see where you want to go. See you next week.

Looking Back, Planning Ahead

2011-01-09T15:32:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last week wrapping up 2010 and preparing for 2011. Rather than charge forth with all the moxie I can muster, Handsome Husband reminded me that sometimes one must look back on what's been accomplished before making plans to move forward. "How do you know where you're going if you don't know where you've been?" he asked. He's a smart one, HH.

I'm reminded of his grandfather, who would ask, "Where they going? Where they been?" as he waited for his turn to cross a busy intersection. Maybe he wasn't just talking about traffic. Where have I been? More importantly, where am I going?

To find out where I'm headed, I'm looking back today, and inviting you to come along. Rather than bring out everything, including my baby booties, let's limit it to the last 5 years.

After a review of some of my favorite - and not so favorite - paintings of the last 5 years, (you don't get to see those) I think I know where I'm going. I've got plans, baby. HH, Grandpa and I, we know where we're going.

Do you?

I Got Moxie

2011-01-01T12:49:00.000-08:00

Haven't got your resolutions for the New Year completed yet?
Hold on a sec, and consider a new approach.

Christine Kane, singer-wongwriter, life coach and all around fabulous human spirit, has an inspired way of looking at how you can move into your new year. Go ahead, take a peek, I can wait.

Who among us hasn't made a laundry list of goals and achievements for the coming 12 months? It's de rigueur don'tcha know? Usually the list starts off with something about weight, or getting in shape. Move on to being nicer, or more tolerant or less meddling. In the case of creative types, add a museum exhibit or a major award in a juried show. Wrap it up with global peace and puppy for every child. Did I mention getting in shape?

You know the scenario. February rolls around, your righteous indignation is the only thing getting a workout and there's no more time to get into your studio than there was last year. The world is still at war and those darn kids won't leave their wii's long enough to even notice there's a dog chewing the furniture. Another set of resolutions bites the dust.

A few years ago I took Christine's nudge to a new life to heart. Rather than make another resolution that would only gather dust, I selected a word to hold in my heart during the new year. The first year I chose the word 'engage'. The visual for me was two gears moving together to mesh, thereby moving an entire set of gears and machinery into motion. Whispering engage into my own ear helped move me up into higher levels of self awareness, creativity and health. It was gentle and yet persistant. It was a powerful enough experience that I used the same word again the next year. The benefit is that there's no achieving a particular result or completing a singular task thereby ending the exercise. It's truly a gift that keeps giving all year long.

This year my word will be moxie. Originally the name of a carbonated beverage in the first decades of the 1900's, today moxie has connotations of pep, determination and spunk. Feeling uninspired today? C'mon, get some moxie! Need to make that appointment but feeling kind of shy? Moxie! Ready to move a new direction with my art? You got it - moxie. And conversely, when I need to back off, rest and reconsider, it'll take moxie to allow that too.

Plus, it's just plain fun to say. M o x i e.

The Cowardly Lion was given the word courage by a kind Wizard. It was just a word, but what a word it was. The Tin Man likewise. Scarecrow's word for the year was brains, which opened up a world unknown to him before that moment. How would they have grown had the Wizard asked them for their New Years resolutions? Chances are they'd be right back where they were when Dorothy found them.

Lay down your list of resolutions and start fresh.
What will your word for the new year be?

Job Listings

2010-12-26T14:28:00.000-08:00

“It is dangerous to let the public behind the scenes. They are easily disillusioned and they are angry with you, for it was the illusion they loved.” (W. Somerset Maugham)

The conversation involved an aspiring artist, and she was looking for advice about getting started in the mysterious world of the Professional Artist. The look of disappointment in the eyes of my companion was surprising. “You see it as a job?” she said with eyebrows knitted in worry. It was as if I had told her there was no Santa Claus. I had just told her that I, as Artist, did not wear a special cape and matching beret. Ouch.

Obviously the words that describe what I do daily are not the words she expected to hear regarding the romantic life of an artist. She was expecting to hear about midnight visits from the Muse and her sister, Inspiration. She was hoping to hear about the fascinating conversations we artists have over tea at the local sidewalk café, and how cool we look in our berets.

What I meant when I used the word job to describe my routine is that it is just that, a routine. I don’t wait for a funnel of fairy dust to pour inspiration down upon my shoulders and onto my magic paintbrush. My job as a painter is to go to work every day, just like millions of others who leave their cozy beds and tie on matching shoes to spend time at a desk or cubicle - or easel. We show up because that’s how the work gets started. Being an artist is a steady and continuous process. We don’t succeed due to dreams or vague inspirational moments or tea-time chats, but in the routine of showing up and working things out. Daily, weekly, yearly.

Inspiration, that sacred being we love to whisper about and hope for, happens to those who are ready for it. They don’t hand out trophies to marathoners who only think about running.

And the muse? It’s the routine of preparation and habit that lays down the path for the muse to follow to your doorstep. The more tended the path is, the easier it is for the muse to find you.

Lest you think I am a miserable drudge toiling with calloused hands and a hardened soul, believe me, I believe that a creative pursuit is the best possible way to spend a life. I love what I do, including the routine. And especially the inspiration. When Inspiration stops by for a quick chat and ends up staying awhile, I have been known to laugh out loud in sheer delight. I get to paint purple shadows and warm yellow suns and yes, I can wear a beret whenever I want. (I do not, however, own a cape.) Being an artist is my job, and it’s the best job ever.

If you think you’re ready, come on along. Bring your beret.

“I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o'clock sharp.” (W. Somerset Maugham)