Full Moon

I can't deny it, and the full moon isn't helping: sleep is sometimes a fleeting occurrence. Talking with others has corroborated the clear fact that since the election, sleep disturbances are on the rise. I've been delaying posting to my blog because I didn't want every post to be dominated and preoccupied with recent historic events, but inevitably, the swirling spirals out of control and back towards the election results...
I am still in denial and recent revelations as to Russian hacking doesn't inspire confidence in the November outcome. I have signed so many petitions that I risk carpal tunnel and my inbox overflows with solicitations for donations to fight off the assaults on our freedoms, our resources, our sanity.
Troubling appointments, bizarre twitter rants and refusal to participate in security briefings... all of it adds up to a rather rocky start to the next administration not to mention the Holiday Season. Not much to celebrate here!

(Another omen! A dead mouse appeared at the top of the stairs; I'm not sure whether it's a victim of Robin's developing hunting prowess or a message from the gods!) Suddenly it's a cold dark season and it reminds me of that things are only going to devolve into even darker places. We have no Christmas tree yet, I'll get fatter if I bake Christmas cookies (and I read a story that said people are putting on weight since the election- stress induced overeating) and all my friends and I do is discuss how this happened. So much for Yule Tide cheer!

Oh, and as addendum, some of you will remember that the Bush Administration (Dubya incarnation) was a cottage industry for me. I created what I called "The Presidential Library"- three volumes inspired by the shenanigans and malapropisms of George W. They sold quite well. It says something about the incoming Orange Menace that I have yet to have a single idea or artistic response to his soon to be coronation. Heaven help us!

Robin's First Birthday

Our Lil' Robin! All grown up! Robin celebrated her first birthday in fine style yesterday. Her actual birthday was on Monday the fifth of December, but we had in mind to throw the party on two-for-one pizza night. Several friends- under the weather- couldn't make it but the friends in attendance had a wonderful time and Robin couldn't be happier.

I spent the previous evening decorating and cleaning. (Poor Bob was laid up by the unexpected extraction of a sideways wisdom tooth and was reduced to eating mush and retreating back to bed with a heavy dose of Advil to keep pain at bay. And while we dined on pizza, Bob consumed eggs, squash and mashed potatoes...)

The house looked festive with all the streamers and balloons and our friends were approving of the results (They even noticed the rug as being cleaner than is typical for our somewhat slippery standards. I pointed out that this was due to the fact that I had removed all the semi-chewed logs from the floor.)
So Robin is a smarty pants and realized that the packages I had snuck into my studio were for her. I had to take the presents to work to wrap them! She made out quite handsomely, with our generous friends Sheldon and Louise giving her a new dog-bone motif collar, cookies and a braided rawhide chew bone and there was a delightful rope toy from Bob and Bill:

Look at her haul! She likes every one of her toys. She had a dog food cake with a Pupperoni candle (not lit) while we enjoyed adult drinks and cup cakes. We also serenaded Robin with singing and noise makers... it was quite a lovely event!

 

Robin also received thoughtful cards with an emphasis on her status as a little princess. She looked quite pleased with herself this morning, carefully revisiting all of her new toys. I have told her we will spend part of the day composing "thank you" cards!

A Suggestion

(Attention! Something else to take our minds off of the Ascension of the Orange Menace to the Presidency! I must keep busy for four years...)
In light of the overwhelmingly positive response I've had to my (occasional) postings on art, artist's blocks, creativity etc etc, I decided to provide all my many readers with another foray into the workings of the creative mind and another exercise to pursue.
First, a suggestion- or if you wish, an assignment. This will sound really simplistic but it can be very effective. You may find yourself sort of stumped or stymied or even a tad weary of what has been occurring in your studio or work space, and what seemed like an effortless flow last week suddenly seems to have screeched to a halt and you're cosmically constipated. I know when I find myself occupying this cramped and awkward state, I often keep bulling ahead, as if forcing things to happen will make it all work out okay. (And sometimes it does!) But more often than not, it just makes you feel worse.
My suggestion? Do something entirely different. See? I knew it would sound simplistic but I mean REALLY different. If you paint, make a sculpture out of modeling clay. If you make sculpture, try making a video or hell, just draw on the computer and alter a few photographs, like I did in the above (heavily doctored) picture of a vase of flowers. The idea is to rearrange your thoughts so they're not so serious, but you're more available for play.
Often that's all I need to get things chugging along in the right direction. Let's face it: sometimes, I'm super fired up and ideas are pouring out so fast I can't keep up with the thoughts I'm scribbling down. But there are definitely periods where doing something/anything is tough. I can also find it helpful to divert myself by doing an activity NOT art related, like gardening or raking leaves or going for a walk. But that not art related activity can become an excuse or a dodge and take you away from the very real (and hard!) work of making art. I know that many people think making art is "fun" (and mostly for me it is. I'm pretty lucky...) But it's also lonely, isolating, and can be crazy-making.
And now a plug for an artist's book presentation (yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy!!!) that I'm giving in conjunction with the inaugural Collector's Club meeting at Odetta, the gallery in Brooklyn that I have been showing with.

Now, this should be fun. Some friends and I are going to read selected excerpts from my latest opus, "Rita Valley's Guide to Collecting Art". I- like most artists- am always on the look-out for new collectors; maybe this is the chance to jump on that gravy train!

Fussy Eaters (A Diversion from Politics and Art)

In an effort to buoy our flagging spirits and to prevent an erosion of my last bit of sanity, I decided to write about other dramas erupting at the BauHaus Chicken Coop. F'rinstance, both Maggie the Mexican Pony (hope she's legal or she'll probably be deported) and Lil' Robin the Good have decided to stage their own versions of hunger strikes.
In Maggie's case it started with the advent of true cold weather. Inevitably, at this time of year, the grass stops growing and a horse begins to consume more hay. Maggie loved the hay I supplemented her grazing with this fall. I mean, there was never a stray piece of hay in her hay rack; she ate every last bit. The man I bought the hay from ran out- which is a shame not only because Maggie liked it, but he gave me a good price because I bought a truckload. So I picked up 10 bales of hay from a dealer in the next town over, paying a higher price for their second cutting hay. (Horses generally keep better on second cutting; it's mowed in August or early September and is typically finer and greener and higher in available nutrients. Especially for a horse that's a bit "longer in the tooth", like our friend Maggie. Don't tell her I said that!) Bob and I liked the hay. It smelled nice, had good color and was in a bigger, heavier bale. We thought we were getting a good deal. But Maggie decided otherwise and turned up her long striped nose. She voiced her disgust at this (apparently) sub-standard hay by pulling it down from the hay rack and stomping on it. Just look at that picture- nose out of joint and very grumpy!
I called the woman from whom we've purchased our winter's supply of hay for the last four years and to my dismay I was told their second cutting had been a very small yield due to the extreme dry season and worse, it was all sold out. I went over and bought one bale of first cutting hay to tide us over and while Maggie is eating it, she didn't seem to relish it. I have subsequently ordered hay through a woman I work with who's husband is a farmer. He produces small batch, artisanal, hand-crafted locavore hay. Maggie better like it or Bob and Robin and I will be eating Mexican Pony burgers all winter long.

(Robin's personalized place mat. I apologize for the dark photo but I was rushed for time).
And meanwhile, Lil' Robin seemed to catch the spirit. She began turning up her rather long pointy nose at whatever we poured into her dish. And because this is 2016, she is not being offered some nasty dried out, artificially flavored and colored gravy train. 

No, Robin has been feted with uber expensive salmon tenders kibble with sweet potato sides and special large breed, grain-free blueberry chicken flax seed sliders. Frequently, her dinner sounds better than ours (and is probably more expensive!). She has also demonstrated a remarkable ability to determine when the bag is half full. That's when she expresses boredom with the offering and we have to buy another bag of a different flavor to mix into the first bag. And to boot, I mix in chicken broth or pre-browned turkey crumbles to make meal time all the more appealing; but Robin has perfected ways to pluck the meat morsels and leave the dry food behind...

(Note the "Super Premium" label and the statement that "... your best friend deserves nature's best ingredients!"And of course, the name of the brand is "Evolve". Lil' Robin's on her way!)

Maybe it's the election that put us all off our feed. Bob came down with a bad head cold, I bruised my butt (on a slippery pile of decomposing mushrooms concealing a tree stump) and several other friends and relatives reported injuries and illness, ranging from broken shoulders to odd bumps and rashes. Everyone I know is reporting sleep disturbances. I think I had promised to not discuss the tragedy of 11/9 but allusions to that date are inevitable. There are dark days looming.
Me? I can't help it and have been overeating in compensation for all the misery. I'll be fat and unhappy when the End Times come.

Warning: A Most Political Editorial

Yes, Satan himself makes a guest appearance in my despairing, dispirited post. Election day is only two days away and my stomach is clinching at even the remote possibility that Trump could win. I am old enough to have been through many a presidential election but this one is definitely the weirdest!
I am among the many Americans that finds her/himself wondering... "Just WHAT are people thinking?"* How can anyone ever consider voting for the republican offering? (I mean, I wonder that in years where (groan) people like Mitt Romney or Dubya were presented. But Trump is obviously an even stranger choice!)
 And there is a distinct possibility that Trump could win... the polls are saying how close this election is. And (we all know) it shouldn't be. As you may be aware, Hillary Clinton was not my first choice but she is so obviously head and shoulders better qualified, better prepared and just all around BETTER a candidate than Trump. (And yes, I miss Bernie Sanders! I am wearing his name on my tee shirt and my bumper sticker still shines.)
AND I miss Barack Obama already! A good president (if racist, obstructionist Congress people hadn't prevented him from doing more- like appointing a Supreme Court justice!), a good man, a good dancer, a happily married, non-philandering man with a lovely wife and two great kids; the Obama's even have two swell dogs! Too bad he couldn't have had a third term and let the country come up with more time to sort out dilemmas, such as how Donald Trump became the republican nominee...
So, let's all cross our finger, toes, tails, hooves and whatever other appendages that we have that sanity prevails and Hillary Clinton is elected. And it would be nice to have a woman (nasty or otherwise!) president!

* And I am not going to start listing all the ridiculous and relevant evidence proving that Trump is an appalling and legendarily awful choice to "lead" the country- lead it straight to Hell!

Free Ideas

I couldn't help by remark that I received tons of page views when I chronicled the subject of "Crabby Muses", in which I addressed artist's blocks. This leads me to meander back to an idea that I originally had for a blog, before I started this one, and that was to offer up an idea a day for any aspiring artists to use.
I think (sometimes foolishly) that ideas are cheap. There's lots of them- and (obviously) not all of them lead to the Garden of Good Art. Some ideas are simply good for that momentary "Hey! That's a good one" flash that evaporates a few minutes later, and probably for the better.
On the other hand, it dawned on me years ago that I have so many ideas and inevitably will be unable (and disinclined!) to execute them all. There are only so many days and years in an artist's life! This is where the idea of a blog  which I generously make available fresh ideas for anyone to use.
I know that sometimes you can spend hours in your studio (or garret or where ever you go to make art) and nothing seems to "click" or come easily. Sometimes, you just have to slog through a few uncomfortable, prickly hours (or days or weeks!) before things flow again. But my first rule is: stick it out. Just be available for your muses to visit, should they decide to deliver inspiration. Bob and I were just remarking that sometimes you need to rearrange shelves or clean out cluttered corners or tear up old work in order to be ready for the new stuff. It can feel like some cruel celestial constipation when you try and try and nothing happens but I subscribe to persistence ultimately will triumph.
I also offer the useful (or not!) suggestion that having several pieces going at once is a good way to avoid stuck-ness.  If the impetus to work on one piece dries up, this means there's always another to turn to. I have three, four or five pieces being simultaneously being worked on (or ignored) at any given time. This allows me to quit an artwork temporarily and come back to it later- or never.
The above example illustrates that. I started to work on "NIMBY" thinking it was a great phrase for me to translate. Then it occurred to me that it would be a good challenge to make fabric read as graffiti, as I like to play around with inventing/corrupting fonts and typefaces. (Rarely are they "real" ones; mostly I mash up several ideas.) But I got to a point and was stuck- the word looked good and I liked the back ground- which is actually to distinct different shades of red in rays- but I couldn't get the transition between the yellow behind the blue/grey of NIMBY and the red just right. It looked too harsh and I kept trying out various shades of grey and blue to echo the lettering. Still no luck. I almost tried painting on the fabric in between (glad I didn't! What a mess!!) Then I hit on using this striped material I had left over. I chopped it up every which way and ta-DAAA! It sang!
But importantly, while all this hemming and hawing was erupting in my head and my studio, I was at work on another couple of pieces that required really mundane chores. (F'rinstance: I am painstakingly sewing a million dimes all around the edge of the piece that says "Monetize Me". Pretty repetitive but needs doing and it allows all the subconscious parts of me to do other things.) So, I guess the point of this blog is keep up the slog.
And the free idea for the day? Start on a project that I swear by: Face-A-Day. Everyday for an entire year, make a face collage. Seriously. Whatever you're doing- going to work, being sick... whatever!- make a collage of a face. Do not edit or over work it, just commit to doing it. You'll be surprised. At the end of a year (which passes remarkably fast!) you will have 365 new collages. Some will be good, some will be bad and some will be ugly (hear that music in the back ground?) but it will get even the crankiest of muses going.

Robin the Good- Super Model

Ooooh! Our Lil' Robin is all grown up and quite the stunner. I call her "Super Model"* because she has these high cheek bones and very long legs. And she's slim. What a looker! (She is actually still a teenager at eleven months old).
I'm thrilled to have been able to snap these pictures because Robin is either running full tilt around the yard, in hot pursuit of falling leaves or she's conked out in some upside down outlandish, tongue lolling deranged sprawl. The other day, though, her guard was down and she just kept posing.

I did annoy the hell out of her by following her around with my camera at the ready, trying to document her canine magnificence. She didn't hold most poses long enough for me to take a picture but I was wilier than she and finally managed to capture her in that coiled muscle moment, just before she sprang into motion again.
Even if she weren't beautiful she'd still be a great dog... responsive, affectionate and smart, smart, smart. She does have her endearingly persistent interests in socks, eye glasses and ball point pens but in general she's a good canine citizen.
Here's a doctored Robin:

(Nothing like a bit of Photoshop to enhance the most jejune of surroundings!)
I am entertained that while on our morning walk, people we encounter often ask what kind of dog Robin is. They have frequently mistaken her for a Flat Coated Retriever and one person thought she might be a Belgian Shepard (although they have definitely upright pricked ears... but she's black!) I guess that mixed or mutt designations often bring to mind scrappy lab or pit bull mixes so frequently seen nowadays. When people see an attractive dog, they just assume it MUST be some purebred. I tell them that Robin is the best kind of dog- a happy accident between two (not so common) breeds. (Just for the record, Mom was a Long Haired Weimaraner and Dad was a Llewellin Setter, which is the field or working variety of the English Setter (although that apparently has some controversy as to what denotes a "real" Llewellin. Dog breeders are nuts; way crazier than artists!) We are fortunate that both of these breeds tend to be healthy and not over bred and inbred. Don't get me started on the perfidy of the American Kennel Club and their desire to breed to (something they call) "type". Give me a good mix any day!



*In reality, Robin has about a million nicknames: everything from "Klondike Bar" to "Wicket" (because she's so leggy and thin that sometimes  she arches her back and looks like a croquet wicket).