A special birthday

My little brother (and only sibling) Scott turns 39 today!

But even though he is now taller than me and sports a full beard, the picture above is how I will always think of him. He’s 7 years younger than I am, so he was definitely a “kid” brother when we were growing up. But I enjoyed reading to him at bedtime, and teaching him colors and numbers.

Scott was about 2 (not much older than he is in this picture) when my parents realized something wasn’t right with his development. He wasn’t speaking properly and seemed withdrawn, then he would suddenly start screaming at the top of his lungs for hours on end. At some point, autism was diagnosed, although that certainly wasn’t as common a term in the early 1970s as it is today. (Thank God, because the incidence then was much less frequent.)

I’ve read about the thimerosal theory surrounding autism, and it struck me how so many parents of autistic children remember them as “normal” babies who suddenly changed after receiving multiple vaccines. I wonder if this is what could have happened to my brother, since he seemed alert and aware as a baby. (Although maybe I’m applying this theory in hindsight, and he was indeed “born” this way. I was so young myself at the time, I just can't be sure.)

Almost 40 years later, my brother is easily agitated and hyper-focused on “little” things, like what kind of dressing is going on his salad. Environmental stimuli that we would ignore, or not even notice, just blows his mind. But in the occasional intervals when he is calm and feels safe, he is friendly and smiles and makes a happy remark about the weather or an upcoming holiday.

My memories of my brother are frozen around the time this photo was taken, before the word “autism” entered our lives. I remember him as my little blond companion, grinning and fun to be with.

Review of Puryear textile exhibit

My review of textile artist Marjorie Durko Puryear's exhibit "Woven Notes and Memorabilia" appears in today's edition of the New Bedford Standard-Times. The show is currently on display at the Fuller Craft Museum in Brockton.

Click here to read.

Upcoming exhibit at New Art Center

I am honored to have been invited to participate in an exhibit curated by Susan Goldwitz, to be presented at the New Art Center through its Curatorial Opportunities Program. Titled "Opening Lines," Susan's proposal was one of three selected for exhibition out of 33 applicants.

While the exact dates are yet to be determined (Winter 2009), the Center has posted a page of scheduled exhibits (scroll half-way down page), which gives a good sense of what an exciting group Susan has assembled. Her exhibit will feature works by Tina Roche-Kelly, Richard Serra, Anne Lilly, Sol LeWitt, Michael Beatty, Masako Kamiya, John Bisbee, Jill Weber, Jennifer Perry, Agnes Martin, and (blush) me.

I'm pretty psyched to have an image of my work pictured right beside the work of the legendary Ms. Martin!

I also notice on this page that my friend, the wonderful artist Roger Kizik, will be participating in a two-person show at the Center during its Winter/Spring slot. I highly recommend seeing that one!

Time for a pause

I NEVER, in a million years, thought I’d say this … but I need some time OUT of the studio!

I’ve had a lot of time to paint lately. Since mid-May, I’ve taught a painting class and written four pieces for the newspaper, but other than that, I’ve basically been working every day in the studio. A large purchase of my paintings in May made it possible for me to stock up on art supplies, so I’ve been able to just reach for what I need while I’m working.

But something feels different this morning. I don’t have the usual urge to rush to the studio. I think I’ve actually said all I need to say, at least for the moment.

It’s not like I don’t have a million things I SHOULD be doing! I still haven’t filed all my papers from last semester, and Heaven knows the house needs so much straightening and cleaning that it would take a month to catch up on that front.

Not only that, but I have five week-long workshops to teach, starting on July 14, and there’s always plenty of planning and prep work to do for that. Plus I have pages of notes to type up for an interview I had on Monday.

BUT … maybe it’s the voice of Summer calling to me … I just feel like sitting out on my deck and staring off into the woods! I always feel the urge to be DOING, to be productive, but sometimes doing “nothing” is the most productive thing to do.

And besides, I have a new watercolor class starting tonight, so it’s not like I’ll end up doing NOTHING today, after all!

High school pics

My Mom and I were sorting through some family pictures yesterday, and we came across the following photos (among many others). Here is my (maternal) grandmother's senior year of high school picture, circa 1924:

And here is my mother's, circa 1954:

And here is mine, circa 1980:


My Grandma's got a bit of the Mary Pickford look going here, and my Mom seems to be channeling Grace Kelly. I was always dressing like Diane Keaton in Annie Hall.

I lost count of the number of girls in high school who told me (in all seriousness, like they were helping me), "Your slip is showing" when I wore white petticoats that hung below my long printed skirts. ("Duh, it's not a slip, and it's SUPPOSED to show!") As well as the number of boys who asked me (seriously, as if they just couldn't understand), "Why are you wearing a tie?" ("Duh, didn't you see Annie Hall?") Massachusetts suburbanites ... truly the fashion clueless.

Conclusions on exhibiting

Now that various application deadlines for exhibition opportunities have slowed down for the summer, I decided to sit down and make a list of the venues my work has been accepted into and those it was not accepted into, since January 1, 2008. And try to figure out why.

Those of you who are artists, I know you are smiling as you read this. You’re asking, “Why is she trying to apply logic to something as illogical as acceptances and rejections of art?”

You’re right to smile. I didn’t discover anything logical as I pondered over my list. But I did come to the following conclusions:

Conclusion 1: With few exceptions, the offers I received were made BECAUSE I KNEW SOMEONE, not because of my work. I don’t mean to say that my work didn’t merit those offers anyway. But in many instances, someone I knew reached out to help me when a lot of other talented people might have received the same slot as I did. The moral is: it helps to have friends who are well-connected and/or generous!

Conclusion 2: YOU NEVER KNOW what will lead to something and what won’t. On many occasions, opportunities that seemed like a sure thing didn’t pan out at all, whereas opportunities that I would never have expected, much less counted on, did come through.

Conclusion 3: I’ve blogged about this subject before, but I find it to be true time and time again: Juried shows are a TOTAL CRAP SHOOT. They reflect one person or one jury’s tastes and have nothing to do with talent or the validity of what an artist is working to express. If you’re in a gambling mood, go ahead and apply. But take your acceptance or rejection with a grain of salt.

Conclusion 4: NOTHING to do with art is a sure thing! The only reason to be mixed up in this crazy business is because you love it.

Now I'm going to head back to the studio and do something totally illogical – spread paint over a canvas! Honestly, there’s nothing in this world I’d rather be doing, regardless of the outcome.

Another new painting, shown at top of this blog entry. I'm continuing to expand on the Web Series.

More newbies

Here's another new piece, created yesterday, made of painted and collaged fabric. I'm hoping to expand this series into larger canvases, perhaps with more complex formations that "cut" (visually) the original square of the stretchers into various blocks and crosses. I've used up all my burlap, etc., making the 10" pieces, so it's back to the store for more raw materials.

Also, the recent purchase of more cradled boards enabled me to finally finish up the nine-section series I had started earlier. (One of my favorites from the series, made on Sunday, shown below.) I can't make any more of these; they were assembled from cut-up old paintings, and I've run out of squares!

Happy Father's Day

This is my Dad in what must have been approximately 1934.

What can I say about my father? I believe him to be the kindest human being on the planet. He is gentle, friendly, non-judgmental, and very intelligent. He has always reminded me of Atticus Finch in "To Kill A Mockingbird."

My father is a musically gifted person. He tried to teach me to play the piano when I was very young. I wanted to please him, but I had no ability or interest, and I struggled to play even the simplest pieces in the first few pages of my music primer.

Then one day I turned to the back pages of the music book and noticed that the pieces there had many, more complicated notes than the beginner's pages I was trying to play from.

"Can you play this?" I asked my father, handing him the music book open to one of these fancy pages.

My father sat down and played what to me was a wonderful, complex piece of music. It was a child's music book, so it probably wasn't really difficult. But I was very impressed that someone could just look at that page with all the black dots on it and play exactly what was printed there at a glance, without even practicing.

And then the thought occurred to me: "Why am I struggling so hard to play something simple and boring, when I could be listening to someone else effortlessly play something so beautiful?"

And, to my poor father's chagrin, I have never played another note since. But I have certainly enjoyed the glorious church music he introduced me to, by Bach, Haydn, Handel and Mozart.

My father often says he can't draw at all, so I figure we complement each other. He admires my artwork, and I admire his understanding of music.

A special day

Today is my 46th birthday. My birthday wish is:

To ALL who are reading these words, I wish for you to have a wonderful day today, and have (at least) one special thing that you deeply desire come true for you today. Enjoy!

Say CHEESE!

Hubby and I went to the New Bedford gallery where a piece of mine is on display. Couldn't resist a corny photo op!

Sometimes it's fun to forget that being an artist means hours alone in your studio, throwing paint around and wearing your pajamas, and pretend that being an artist means you're a glamorous movie star on the red carpet being snapped by the paparazzi.

My husband is one of those (rare!) photographers who makes everyone look good. Even at family birthday parties, when we're blowing out candles or have cake in our mouths, his photos make you look sane, normal, perhaps even attractive! (My Mom says he should work at the Registry of Motor Vehicles, taking license pictures. As we all know, they need his talents.)

Collages just keep on coming

Above and below, just born yesterday, four more pieces in the small works series I started a few days ago.

But today, a change of pace is in the air.

For the past 12 days, with the exception of an interview, a class, and a writing project, I've done nothing but PAINT. This is my dream lifestyle, all the time I want in the studio, and yet ...

All work and no play makes Catherine a burned-out painter.

So today my husband and I are off on a little adventure to see some exhibits and dine out on a nice meal, in celebration of my 46th birthday tomorrow!

Pulse Series continues

This red/burgundy series that I described earlier has really taken off, with six paintings now. Since these pieces contain wavering lines and blood red, I've decided to call it the Pulse Series.

Again, I feel the need to defend my craftsmanship here -- the sections and stripes in these pieces are of uniform width; they just look funky because my quickie photos for the blog didn't line up straight. But you get the general idea!

Little guys

Here are a couple new pieces I put together yesterday from some recent purchases of 10" cradled boards and odds and ends of fabrics. I like the spare, Japanese feel of these works.

Looking presidential

My painting "All the Presidents' Mouths" is currently on display as part of "A New Perspective on Politics," an exhibit of unusual portraits of political leaders, past and present, at the Artworks Gallery in New Bedford, MA.

The works of 16 artists are included as part of this national juried show. The exhibit continues through July 19. Artworks, located at 384 Acushnet Avenue in New Bedford, is open Tuesday through Saturday from 12 to 5 PM.

Filling in the gaps

I just finished the painting shown above, which I've been chipping away at for the last few days (the bottom rows are still wet!).

This piece is part of an overall effort to make work in series and groupings.

Working in such a way doesn't come naturally to me. I have always had a tendency to make one piece at a time and after each one, I get bored with those particular colors or shapes and move on to something completely different. (Been there, done that; that's my Gemini brain.)

But I realize, after having several very fortunate experiences with art consultants who sold large groups of my work, that I really need to find a way to offer a number of pieces in similar styles.

In looking through the works I have in storage, I realized that I have tons of diverse styles and colors, one piece here and one piece there, all over the place. So I've decided to use the chunk of time I have before my summer teaching kicks in to fill in some of the gaps -- that is, select the pieces I like most and make several or more that are variations on the same theme.

I found the two works shown below, made at different times, and realized they go well together (a total coincidence, given the way I typically work). With my new plan in mind, I decided to group them and create a third one that would turn them into a possible triptych (hence, the new piece at the top of this blog).

This is really the first time in my career I have ever worked with a plan in mind. Even though, in other areas of my life, I am the most organized person on the planet, when it comes to painting, I've always just flung paint around and let the chips fall where they may. But with this recent sales success, I think it's time to work with more intention and focus, while maintaining a freedom of technique.

I hope this isn't selling out. I prefer to think of it as working smarter.

(Please note: The sections within each painting are actually uniform in size; some of them got cut off when I trimmed the photos for this blog. See my blog entry, "What A Difference A Pro Makes" !!!)

Stick to your guns

Now that my teaching has slowed down for a short while, I have time to do a little more writing.

My review of the current exhibit at the Marion Art Center in Marion, Mass., appears in today's edition of the New Bedford Standard-Times; click here to read.

I also have a cool story to relate. A friend of mine is member of an artists' group, and the group was invited to create site-specific installations at the local library earlier this year. The group was assigned a book-related theme and allowed to place their installations anywhere they liked inside the library.

For whatever reason (although jealousy is the first theory that comes to my mind), my friend was given a lot of grief about the installation she put up by the other members of the group. They questioned her motivations with her piece, her use of materials, even the work's location, urging her to move it from the spot in the library she had chosen.

But she refused to be swayed by their negativity or bow to their pressure, insisting that her work be left just as she had erected it.

Yesterday was the take-down day, and my friend headed over to the library to remove her work. But when she got there, the librarians told her that they had received such a strong and positive response from the public, that they wondered if she would consider leaving her installation up for permanent display! (This invitation was not extended to any other member of her group.)

The lesson here is: when it comes to your artwork, stick to your guns!

New grids

Here are some new collages in the grid series I'm currently working on. All of these are 20 inches square. Also I've ordered some 10 inch cradled boards and bought fabrics of different textures -- burlap, leather, voile -- and I'm planning to keep experimenting with collaging cut paper over these fabrics.



Here's a detail of this painting:



Here's another new piece:



And here is a detail of this one: