Happy Valentine's Day

To you, my readers! Thank you for spurring me on to keep being creative!

I made this with a class of kindergartners today. 

What a great way to celebrate Valentine's Day! 

If you're wondering, it's crayons and watercolor paints on cardstock paper. The holes, made with a paper punch, were for threading yarn through (which I didn't have time to do as I was helping smaller hands figure that out). The cool thing about crayons, they're what's known as a "resist." Watercolor paints won't stick to them. So you draw with the crayons first, then paint over the picture and the paint stays off your drawing. You can make some pretty cool effects with that. I was just playing around and showing the kids different things to try.
The drips on the upper left are also fun to create. You glob some very wet paint down and then blow really hard to get it to spread out.
There's nothing better than handmade Valentines.

Project: Christmas tree

'Tis the season....of holiday crafts! It's an excuse to pull out all the glitter and jewels and make something pretty. I just did this project today with a group of kindergartners and they had a blast bedazzling their trees. 

I don't know if you can see, but there was some....unconventional materials used. One little boy decked out his tree with googly eyes. 

Materials:

-Cardstock or some other heavy duty paper

-Markers

-Glitter glue (easier to use and less mess than regular glitter)

-Glue

-Jewels, buttons, pom poms, feathers

I printed out a tree shape, cut it out and used it like a stencil so I could make multiples. Here's the template I used:

I liked having the tree in outline, because then I could color it in and make a pattern. I suggest coloring the tree first, then gluing stuff onto it. 

After coloring the tree, drawing ornaments, adding buttons and jewels was my favorite part: glitter! I like glitter glue in bottles, because it's waaaaay easier to control and there's less mess. For my tree, I made wavy lines then patted it down with my finger. Make sure you let it dry completely before hanging it on the refrigerator. Nothing worse than a masterpiece falling apart on display. 

Ta-da!

My artist statement

I just finished my application for graduate school yesterday. There was much essay writing and re-writing that went into it. I applied for a full ride fellowship, had to say why I want to pursue a Masters in Fine Arts, what my art means. And I re-wrote my artist statement yet again. I've been doing that at least once a year since college anyways, but this was impetus to really do a good, thoughtful job. 

An artist statement is supposed to sum up in a page or less what your work means, why you make art and what you want viewers to take away from experiencing it. My goal is that everyone can read my statement and understand my art. I don't want it be overly academic and jargon filled. So for your reading pleasure, here's the latest rendition of what I want to say about my art (and yes, it is less than a page, it just looks like a lot): 

Evoking idealized childhood memories, I focus on the happiest moments, remixing those bright emotions into a shining daydream.  I don’t recreate a specific instance, more reference a romanticized feeling about the memory. I’m not interested in reality—real life is full of complications, sadness and disappointment. I choose to be easily pleased and enraptured, retaining a childlike enjoyment of the little things: a shiny jewel, a pretty bird, fluttering butterflies, a colorful button, bright colors, flowers, glitter, costume jewelry in all its sparkling glory. 

I pluck out the glorious moments of my childhood: the summer days of being a little girl when the world is exciting and full of adventure; the quiet contentment of eating a melting fudgesicle while sitting in lush green grass; the exhilaration of discovering the joys of reading as a young child; the sense of safety when my Dad would sing me to sleep at bedtime; the excitement of learning to ride a bicycle; feeling beautiful playing “dress-up” as scarves and old dresses get turned into a queen’s royal robes; the deep pleasure of learning to make beautiful things with my own hands; the surreptitious thrill of touching a sculpture in an art museum.

I still like to explore the world through touch—if I can’t hold something, discover its tactile qualities with my hands not just my eyes, it doesn’t feel real to me.  I want people to have that same pull when they look at my work. I’m portraying ephemeral and intangible concepts, yet the pieces themselves are weighty and substantial, catching the eye and inviting the viewer closer. I want sensible people to feel the urge to run their fingers across the surface, just to know if it actually feels like it looks. It’s that instinct to engage the world with all our senses that I want to evoke. You know you shouldn’t…but you just want to trace the curve of that jewel, the undulating hills of paint and varnish, the path of a twisting necklace.

In the studio, a sense of youthful playfulness and exploration pervades my art making process, though the more pragmatic side of me knows full well that those rosy memories are past and in fact, never actually were as I portray them. As much as I want to hold onto that idealized time of my life, reality intrudes.

In my recent work, I’ve been mulling over the turmoil that is adult life, the need to let go, and exodus: birds in migration, paint trails meandering aimlessly through the picture plane, jewelry in seeming disintegration, thread unraveling, materials actually hanging off the work as if caught in mid-dissolution. My paintings blur to various degrees over time, contributing to the sense of a dream dissolving as you wake up. The cheap jewelry I use tarnishes and discolors easily, bringing a touch of imperfection and decay to my idyllic daydream. The more layers I add the more blurred out the initial images become, sometimes ending up only as blobs of vague color. This is so much like our own minds in regards to memory: The further back you try to recall, looking through all the layers of time that have passed since, the less details you can remember--only a hazy general outline remains that you can project upon. The present can easily bestow a glossy veneer over the past. It’s mental flotsam building up to cover over the dark parts and leave the shining moments to glimmer through. 

 Can you understand what I'm trying to say? Does it make sense to you? Does it mesh with what you think or feel when you look at my paintings? 

Art Tip #8: Use the library

The library is awesome--it's a wonderful resource.

One reason I'm so well-read (besides currently working at Half Price Books) is that I've grown up at the library. Seriously, when I was younger, the librarians knew me and my siblings by name. We'd bike over there in nice weather and hang out for a few hours, use the internet and max out our library cards. (which by the way, if you didn't know, you can only have 100 books checked out at one time...and we had 3 cards maxed out once.) Beyond the obvious resource of books and magazines, libraries also have CDs, DVDs, local publications (like Vita.mn, which I love), notifications of community happenings, and free events. I don't know how many magic and puppet shows, storytimes, and musical groups I got to experience as a kid, but it was a lot. It was free entertainment, I had fun and I usually learned something too.

During college, I could always find resources for my research papers quite easily at the library. Sometimes I didn't even have to buy certain books for class, because my college library kept them on file! I could just check the book out for reading assignments and save a ton of money in the process.

Today, I rarely get to the library, but my Mom and siblings bring home wonderful things for me all the time. I've watched documentaries about the origin of coffee and being a Marine, stayed up to date on what's happening in the arts without paying the pricey magazine subscriptions, discovered great art books (like Art Attack) and new music...all for free.

I also make regular use of the American Craft Council Library to further my artistic knowledge and find inspiration for my art making. They have tons of magazines and hard-to-find books along with a helpful librarian eager to grow your art know-how.

Sadly, most people only view their library as a source of free internet these days and books are getting pushed aside to make room for more and more computers. That is a great service that they offer, but it's hardly the only reason you should step foot in there. You might as well go to a coffee shop if that's all you want. There are so many free resources and services the library provides that people don't even use!

So, make the library your friend. And like any good friendship, you have to see each other often.

Another blog!

I'm going to do a little self promotion here and toot my own horn. I've tried to keep Art Helpline focused on art (duh) which makes up a pretty big majority of my passions. Mainly what I post here are resources I find that I think would be beneficial for you in teaching your kids about art. When I tag posts as "real life" it's in relation to my doing art or struggling/triumphing/whatever with being a creative, art-making person. However, I do have a life and actually am interested in other subjects as well. So, this week I started a more personal blog over at elisabethpreble.blogspot.com. I won't be trying to teach anybody anything or posting links from around the Internet (if I do, it'll just be stuff that I find interesting), it's just a place for me to share about my life for any interested readers. So, if you want to tune into my stream of consciousness, go ahead and take a look. If you're just here for the art stuff, that's fine too.

Articles: Why I Make

American Craft Magazine has a section on their blog called Why I Make. Each article is written by an artist about what inspires them to create. Some of the reasons are pretty simple (ex: therapeutic release), others go much deeper (ex: creating a lasting legacy). Browsing the articles brings to mind why I make art. If I were to sum it up into a short headline, I think it would be something along the lines of: As an Act of Worship.
Whenever I work on art, I feel like I'm doing what I was created to do. Eric Liddell's quote from the movie Chariot's of Fire really speaks to me: "I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure." I've paraphrased that for myself: God made me with a love for art. And I when I create I feel His pleasure.

Motivation or the lack thereof

I wrote about this on Facebook the other day, so I'll expand on it further here on this lately neglected blog.

I'm an artist, on top of working 40 hours a week at Half Price Books. I create art prodigiously -- I have over 100 paintings sitting in my basement that I've made over the last couple years. I usually have anywhere between 20-30 pieces in various stages of completion at any given time. I catalog each painting by having it photographed, archiving the information in various places, uploading the image to three different websites, and keeping track of where each piece ends up once it's out of my possession. I can tell you a story about every painting I've done.
And not only do I create, but I fill my mind with art through various ways: visiting art museums and galleries, reading voraciously (blogs, magazines, books, articles), making connections and having good conversations with other artists. I have a lot of artistic input and output, to say the least.

And yet, lately, I feel like I'm in a rut creatively. Do I make because I have something to communicate, or am I just repeating colors and patterns because it's habit? Am I still asking myself questions about what I'm doing? Am I pushing myself beyond the familiar or is it just comfortable catharsis? What do I do with all this knowledge I've gained? How can I share it, encourage and help others with what I know? Does anyone care what I have to say, is it helpful or am I just blabbing into the ether?
These are some of the things that I've been thinking about recently.

As a Christian, I am called to pursue excellence in my endeavors. I can't be satisfied with the status quo, with being merely competent. I strive to do my best, because God says I'm working for Him and not others' approval or accolades. It may seem silly to you if you don't believe in God and the Bible, but for me, it's freeing yet a weighty responsibility. I believe God has given me artistic skills and passions that I've worked to hone over the years. If I don't question and critique my work, pushing myself intellectually, I feel like I'm not doing justice to what God has blessed me with. Art calls to me, and when I create I feel God's pleasure.

I guess I haven't been feeling a lack of motivation so much as a bit of discouragement. Part of me wants accolades and praise from others. It's discouraging to apply to gallery after gallery and get nothing. To show my work and not sell anything. To set up showings that fall through. To put in a full day at work, then come home and have barely any energy (or none, depending on the day) to devote to my true passion.
I know you have to put in time and sweat to become successful, but it's just hard to see if I'm going anywhere right now.

Wallowing in a pit of excuses

As is apparent, I haven't written a blessed thing on this blog in almost a month. I'm guilty of the very thing I'm trying to help people get out of: making lame excuses for not being creative (in my case, writing about being creative).
I haven't been completely slacking off: I work on my art  almost every day; I was interviewed twice about being an artist this last month (you can read one of the interviews here); and I read voraciously, about art and many other subjects. But when it comes to writing I struggle. I probably use similar excuses that some do for not trying to make art: "I'm not talented at it, there are better writers out there; the same stuff has been done before; I don't have enough time to do something good, I have more important things to do, I'll do it later." And blah, blah, blah.
So I'm taking my own advice (and ripping off Nike): Just do it. Stop making excuses, and just write/make art.

Essay: Faith and the Art Major

I was backing up all the files on my laptop today, and I came across some papers I had written in college a few years ago. (it's still feels weird that I'm out of school and it's been over three years since I graduated) One of my art history essays caught my eye and I thought I'd share it with you. My writing and thought process has matured since 2007 but I'm just going to leave it as is. This was a good reminder for me today: it's easy to get focused on coming up with new and interesting ideas for my art making, and forget that I create because I'm made in the image of the Creator God. If I make art only to please others and receive accolades, it only leads to emptiness and despair.

My feelings about art and my feelings about the Creator of the Universe are inseparable.

(Madeleine L’Engle, Walking On Water, pg. 16)

            “To try to talk about art and Christianity is for me one and the same thing, and it means attempting to share the meaning of my life, what gives it, for me, its tragedy and glory.” (L’Engle, 16) To be an art major, an artist requires one to believe in something beyond one’s self. As a Christian, I know that God is the ultimate source of everything good and beautiful. For me, there is no thought of how to integrate my faith and being an art major—they already are. An artist’s work comes out of who they are, how they see the world. Some of the most basic aspects of being an artist directly parallel what it means to be a Christian. As I learn more about what it means to be an artist, I learn more about what it means to be a Christian.

            First, and most important of all, I have to remember that it is not about me. I need to remember not to get so wrapped up in the process that I lose sight of the purpose I create for. “There have been some who were so occupied in spreading Christianity that they never gave a thought to Christ….It is the subtlest of all the snares.” (Lewis, 71) Artists and Christians can both focus so much on what they are doing that they lose sight of why they are doing it. There is a conversation overheard in The Great Divorce that illustrates this perfectly:

            “Light itself was your first love; you loved paint only as a means of telling about the light.”

                “Oh, that’s ages ago….One grows out of that. Of course, you haven’t seen my later works. One becomes more and more interested in paint for its own sake.”

                “One does indeed. I also have had to recover from that. It was all a snare. Ink and catgut and paint were necessary down there, but they are also dangerous stimulants. Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from love of the thing he tells, to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they can not be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him. For it doesn’t stop at being interested in paint, you know. They sink lower—become interested in their  own personalities and then in nothing but their own reputations.” (Lewis, 81, emphasis mine)

If I lose sight of Who I am ultimately inspired by, it just becomes a self-based thing. Why do you think so many artists fear their work being stolen or destroyed? They are wrapped up in self-glorification. “They are all holy when God’s hand is on the rein. They all go bad when they set up on their own and make themselves into false gods.” (Lewis, 93)

            Secondly, as an artist, I am called to seek and show the divine in my every day life. As a Christian, I know that “the divine” means God, our Creator, Sustainer and Savior. As both, I know that I can’t separate the divine, God from who I am; it is an integral part of me. As H. R. Rookmaaker says,

            “I am often asked what one has to do if one wants to work as a Christian….We are not human plus an extra called our Christianity….To be a Christian artist means that one’s particular calling is to use one’s talents to the glory of God, as an act of love toward God and as a loving service to our fellows.” (Rookmaaker, 33)

A Christian artist shows others the glimpses of God she sees around her. Emmanuel Cardinal Suhard of Paris, in his classic book Priests Among Men, said, “To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist.” I am not called to merely reflect back the world around me. I am to be a mirror of God’s glory, and that should be evident in my works of art.

            Just as I am not to simply regurgitate the world around me onto canvas or other art media, I am called to technical and conceptual excellence. Artists are required to make quality work, as a Christian that is even more so. Colossians 3:23-24 says, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” (emphasis mine) We never see the mediocre artists from the Renaissance or Impressionism for that very reason. Why do we still look at works by da Vinci today? Because he was a talented artist, yes, but also because he worked hard to make his art fantastic and excellent. “The amount of the artist’s talent is not what it is about.” (L’Engle, 23) No good thing is ever accomplished by those who are lazy and do not work hard at it. Dr. Francis A. Schaeffer, in his book Art and the Bible, held technical excellence as the top standard a work is judged by. “If the artist’s technical excellence is high, he is to be praised for this, even if we differ with his world view.” (Schaffer, 43)

            As we have seen, it is absolutely essential that faith is wholly part of being an art major and a Christian. There must never be a separation of the two. I must be an integrated human being. Just because something is not necessarily “Christian” does not mean my faith should not be a part of it. As Joe Smith, Chair of the Art Department at Northwestern College, has said, “Don’t say, ‘I am a Christian and then an artist.’ You are whole people, so don’t separate yourself.”

Works Cited

L’Engle, Madeleine. Walking On Water. North Point Press. New York. 1995

Lewis, C. S. The Great Divorce. Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc. New York. 1978

Rookmaker, H. R. Art Needs No Justification. Intervarsity Press. Downers Grove, IL.1978

Schaeffer, Francis A. Art and the Bible. Intervarsity Press. Downers Grove, IL. 2006

Doily Ninjas!

As a city girl, I enjoy street art. It's like a treasure hunt sometimes--you're waiting at a stoplight and notice a cool sticker on the back of the one way sign; a trash can has a mural painted all over it; someone covers a wall in stickers of birds. Now I'm not advocating graffiti (and some people don't differentiate between the two, but I do). There's a difference, at least to me: graffiti is destructive and malicious (ex: gang tags), whereas I see street art more as trying to beautify or say something about the surrounding urban landscape.
I've tried my hand at street art before. I'm an advocate for non-damaging projects--I like doing things that people can pick up and take home with them. The Doily Street Art series was about 50 quick paintings I did on cardboard. It was really fun to scatter them around Minneapolis, and hope that someone was happy to get a free painting.

My project this year I've dubbed the Doily Ninjas. I received about 100 of these human shaped wood pieces from a manufacturer who had a client decide midway through that he wasn't going to pay. I've had a lot of fun painting them in vivid color and crazy patterns. I'll be deploying my brightly hued ninjas around town this summer. They will also be left at pit stops around the USA as my sisters and I embark on a two week road trip in the next couple days. Hopefully my street art army will bring a few smiles as they pop up in different locales.

Art Tip #7: Get a different view

Get a different perspective on things.

My 16-year-old, showering adverse, video game playing, Funyun eating, Mountain Dew drinking brother, Andrew, is my go-to art critic. Seems a bit strange, doesn't it? At first glance, yes. But I love asking his opinions about my paintings. Why? He's the perfect impartial art critic. Andrew doesn't care about impressing me, he doesn't give a rip about color theory, he's not concerned about who my artistic influences are...he just tells me what he sees and his honest thoughts. He's not afraid to tell me something looks bad.
A typical exchange goes something like this: "Art Critic Andrew, what do you think?" (said in a sing-song voice as I bounce into our computer room where my brother is bathed in the light of the Internet) Andrew glances at the painting in my hand, "Nice colors. It needs something in that corner." Me: "I thought so too. Thanks." And I head back around the corner to my "studio."
Seriously, it's that fast. He's got a great eye for detail and an instinctive sense for balanced compositions. We don't need to discuss art theory or go into long winded discussion about my material choices (though I don't mind doing that!). Andrew gives me a different perspective on my artwork. He helps me step out of my own head and look at a painting with fresh eyes. He's obviously not ignorant (I drag him to art museums as frequently as I can) and appreciates art. He's smart and has an inquisitive mind, so he can ask me questions I wouldn't necessarily think of.

The worst thing for an artist is to never hear criticism. Receiving nothing but compliments and head patting only serves to make you lazy mentally and creatively. Surrounding yourself with people who repeat your own opinions is very dull and unhelpful. It's hard to deal with at first, but critiques (even the harsh ones) help you see and deal with your weak areas. Andrew's not afraid to point out that I've used the same colors in multiple paintings, or that a piece definitely needs more fine tuning. Make sure you have at least one person who's not afraid to tell you like it is.