Hibernating has been my modus operandi for the last eight days as we weathered eleven-plus inches of snow here in the Rose City. It was both a blessing and a curse. My knitting skills have greatly improved thanks to the weather – with 11 “pussyhats” completed and soon-to-be on friend’s and family’s noggins for this Saturday’s Women’s March on Washington in D.C., San Francisco, Boston, NYC, Eugene and here in Portland. Unfortunately my studio time has been almost nonexistant – reading, drinking tea, walks in the neighborhood, going to movies and general lolling about have occupied my days. Yesterday I walked to Collage – supporting local small businesses is especially important when inclament weather strikes – and purchased gouache and some brushes. This sketchbook piece had been started at the beach, during a break in the Portland Open Studios board retreat, using this recently purchased book – Masterpieces of the Metropolitan Museum of Art . Van Gogh’s painting, La Berceuse (Woman Rocking a Cradle; Augustine-Alix Pellicot Roulin) was inspiring. Playing around with colored pencils and gouache today was too much fun and I’m looking forward to more experimentation!Speaking of Portland Open Studios – the Call to Artists is now open. Here’s the postcard I designed, along with the new logo. I’m looking forward to working with my fellow board members this year – this organization’s 19th – to create a wonderful event for participating artists and the public!
WHITE. The first definition in Webster’s is free from color. This made me smile. Color is bad? White escaped some unknown fate? And according to empower yourself with color , white is color at its most complete and pure . . .
the pond at Versailles
In general, I’m a girl who likes color – lots of it. To me, white rooms are spaces that need paint. White clothes are potential drop clothes for spilled food. White is a blank canvas waiting to be transformed.
lampshades awaiting color at Jil Smith’s studio
Strangely, this absence of color brings back many childhood memories . . . donning white anklets and PF Flyer tennis shoes after a sun drenched day of swimming . . . cruising in my mom’s ginormous white Plymouth Fury with the magnificent tail fins . . . trudging through drifts of white snow with my brother, his boots taped to snowsuit with duct tape . . . filling white sheet rocked walls in our family garage with pencil drawings of dog bones . . . posing – my brother and I pajama clad – with our grinning dad in his rumpled white shirt in a faded Polaroid . . .
Miss Winnie Cooper in the sink
So while white IS a color free from color, there’s obviously more there than meets the eye! Thanks to Bella, creator of the 52 Photo Project for giving me this opportunity to see white in a whole new light and celebrate its quiet beauty.
calligraphy by Curtis Steiner
glimpsed on a hike near Mt. Rainier
our heart collection resides in this lovely handmade bowl, a gift from Jeanne