In my initial post, I wrote that I picked a theme for 2024 that I call “Find the Joy’. Admittedly, it’s sad that I have to set a goal like this. Sometimes I fall into bad habits and need to allow myself some fun. All the pieces are in place in my life: job, family, spouse but oftentimes I don’t see a clear path to finding opportunities for enjoyment. The Universe heard my invitation and immediately sprang into action; a mere two days after committing to the theme and posting about it, a mind-blowing offer was presented to me. It’s the kind of offer that exceeded my wildest dreams and called to mind a book I read long ago, “How Much Joy Can [You] I Stand?” In this case, we’re talking flood-gate levels of joy entering my existence. None of the details are finalized and it’s still a long shot so I can’t go into it now, but let’s just say it’s a plan 40 years in the making. It’s an exciting, overjoyed plan, and one that requires heavy preparation on my part, working out of several kinds–developing stamina, both physical and creative. To answer the earlier question, I’m preparing myself to handle ALL the joy of this potential offer, and I’m keeping it fore-front in my mind so I don’t lose sight or focus. If I can pull this off, it will be epic. And even though it’s not set in stone, the prospect is enough to get me started on preparation.
To start the extended creative work out, I went out right away and got a sexy new sketchbook and drawing supplies. Since then I’ve been drawing almost everyday, to build up speed and ability. If I get to go to the place I want to go, then I plan to maximize the time I have there. In that place I will make as much art as I can to the best of my ability. About a year ago I created the plan pictured below in my sketchbook for a triptych-style book exploring the concept of phases. The top of the centerpiece includes phases of the moon. Below is a jellyfish coming out of a cup set below the water’s surface. The sides are flanked with 2 fish skeletons. The sketch was rendered in colored pencil and thin black marker. Typically I don’t incorporate marker and paint together for what I might call a “serious piece”. Maybe that’s throw-back advice I received from snobby artists, but I’ve shied away thinking that it might be “bad form’ to use the two together. It might be time to change my mind on that and experiment with something I’ve often contemplated.
I especially like the reflective blending in this area:
Of all areas, Book Arts is always my personal favorite, and my highest personal goal for art-making. The possibilities are endless for both topics and media, and the ability to produce exquisite detail can blow people’s minds. I love the persnickity possibilities that the field of book arts has to offer. In the case of this project, I plan to utilize watercolor, and revisit the use of the black marker. The body itself will be created with cardboard and paper mache so it promises to be simultaneously sturdy and lightweight.
I started rendering the centerpece this afternoon, attempting the watercolor on 300- pound arches watercolor paper. Luckily today marked Day 6 of a mini break from school (thank you, Michigan Winter) and I was happy spending much of it doing something I love. Although making artist books is my absolute favorite thing to do, I tend to shy away for fear that my work can be personal and lost on others. I worked happily and diligently today, deciding to dive straight in to something I enjoy so much. Even if people don’t get my drift, that’s too bad because I really love it.
Below is a detail of the watercolor work I began today. Time allowed the development of the underlayer only. I look forward to incorporating contrast and color compliments throughout the piece.
At work today I pondered the concept of phases and asked for her input and ideas. She suggested caterpillars, seasons, even the human experience. My son suggested depicting evolution from ape to human. Lots of ideas are still to come; I can feel it even if I don’t know what they are yet. The good news is, I’m allowing myself to sit with the unknown and enjoy the process. I give myself permission that the ideas will present themselves to me the more I allow myself to show up and be there.