Arts North! Studio Tour
Lynette Hensley, the Flying Redhead
Saturday/Sunday September 12 & 13 Please stop by studio 10 and come see the new work I’ve put together for your entertainment, and to take home with you if it strikes your fancy. (What is a “fancy” anyhoo?)
Hours are 10 AM to 5 PM both days. Studio 10 is located at 3009 NE 135th St, Seattle 98125.
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Then the following week — (what was I thinking?!! It’s ok, it’ll be two weekends in a row – FUN!!)
Edmonds Art Studio Tour
Saturday/Sunday September 19 & 20. Please stop by studio 14 and say hi! I will be at fabulous print artist Mona Smiley Fairbanks’ home studio along with Robin Westbrook once again. It’s more fun when you get to spend the weekend with peeps you like!
I’m bringing new work, many smaller sized pieces, and matted studies all for viewing and purchase, as well as some new 3D figures I’ve been having a great time making. It’s all fun, and I’d love to see you!
Parking should be easy enough in both locations, and there will be signs pointing the way. Please download a map of the Edmonds tour here and be sure to check out the other artists on the tour website — there are some fascinating folks!
Hours are 10 AM to 5 PM both days. Studio 14 is located at 8622 202nd St SW, Edmonds 98026.
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Art Walk Edmonds Preview at ART Spot
There will be a little preview of the tour at ART Spot on Thursday September 17 from 5-8PM for the Art Walk Edmonds – AWE. I’ll be there with one of my sculptures along with many of the other artists on the tour. It’s the only time we see each others work!
Oh Oh Oh!
One of the fun things we did last year and this year was artist interviews — here’s a link to mine wherein I answer “What does it mean to be human?” along with other intriguing questions.
I started a 6 painting series, 6 compositions borrowed and cropped from old photos, all will be 16″x20″. They will be collages and paintings, and more colorful than what you see here, but it’s a good start, getting the drawings done and some values in place.
I’m excited to be working on this series, solidifying some methods of working out compositions and textures, and integrating people into an abstracted environment. Starting with cropped photos that move the focus a bit off center, or just outside the golden mean balance point. So then the problem to solve is how to balance the off-balance-ness. I think I can do it by moving other things around, like the colors in the background.
I’ve often thought there was a story behind many of my paintings and collages, but I seldom wrote them down.
I recently read about and purchased a book, Significant Objects, 100 extraordinary stories about ordinary things. The idea behind the book was that narrative adds value. And while they were using monetary value as their metric for determining the “value,” I have always liked the idea of adding narrative to visual art. It’s not that I think the art won’t stand on it’s own without the narrative, but that cross pollination of art forms, writing and visual art, allows for a fuller experience.
So when applying for the Kenmore Art Show coming up in June, there was a space for 200 character description, rather than describing the technical process or materials used, I got started thinking about the the story. 200 characters is a challenging limitation, but also freeing. Here are 4 pieces that got short (nearly microscopic) stories.
The cat has come to visit our warm fire-lit living room. As a highly domestic cat, she fits right into our highly domestic setting, even as far as curling her tail into our couch’s Greek wave motif.
The play’s the thing, and these five were cast as the chorus in a Greek play. I hope it’s a comedy. Remember, there are no small parts, only small actors.
Poppies have an attitude. They rise up and stand tall, and then sport their wilty petals — proud and sorta wimpy all at the same time. Sometimes a flower just demands to become a painting.
Ah the grand parade of people who peer and parade, who scoff and snicker, who look and linger, who query and quickstep along the promenade, and then there are the people who watch.
The cast: Girl, Daddy, Bird, Couch, Legs, Chair, Door. I was a 3.5 year old girl, dancing and swirling with the artist Joan Miro, who stayed just behind the curtain off stage right. The first in a series. What fun!
Breakin’ the composition rules, and still winning. This painting by Edouard Manet has two strong circle shapes side by side, almost centered, which is generally not advised for a great composition. Then add a strong line going off the edge of the canvas — whoosh — eyes are in danger of leaving the picture. Yet a subtle pair of stem snippers at the left pulls eyes both off to the left AND back in, and the even more subtle table top/horizon line brings eyes back to the center and the subtleties of shading in the flowers.
Economy of color, stroke, subject, shadow. It’s big contrasts, and some subtle tricks that make it work.
Yep. He wins.
As I sat with a group of artists last night discussing how to market ourselves, the subject came up about costs of doing what we do vs. earnings. For most of us, costs and earnings were about equal. While that’s sad, I bring this up to make the point that while we like to have beautiful tools and equipment, many in our industry can’t afford the most expensive kind. However, the big easel I wanted to replace is a hand made model, sturdy, heavy, and remodeled by my wonderful husband to fit my space. But it didn’t feel sturdy enough. Between the wobbles and the lack of adjust-ability, I wanted something more.
My quest for an easel was to find a reasonably priced, sturdy model that would hold fairly big canvasses, fit in my small space and be useful for smaller pieces as well as big ones. I also was looking for a very adjustable model that could lay down. What I found was US Art Supply® MALIBU Extra Large 80″ to 139″ Tall Adjustable H-Frame Deluxe Adjustable Wood Studio Easel with Tilt & Casters from TCP Global Corp through Amazon, which seems to fit the small space I have and meets all my criteria for the current need.
It rolls on casters. I can see that they may need to be replaced someday, but for now, it rolls smoothly, and I’m happy about how easy it is to move about the space.
Adjustments for height at the top bracket, at the rack, and at the back braces give it full adjustability, and, as shown in my picture, will also lay flat. I will use that feature for final varnishing, and it’s also useful for watercolorists or other artists that want to work flat. I like it better than trying to set a large canvas on a table surface, especially with bigger canvasses.
It was not hard to put together, though it took a whole evening. Look at the drawings carefully — I did — and still put some parts together backwards, though that was easily remedied. I like a challenge, but not too much of a challenge in assembling things like this. No words, just pictures on the instructions.
All in all a good buy at $150.
Yesterday was Solstice, and that my dear friends, begins to bring relief to the darkness of winter nights. I choose to live in Seattle, where the light is scarce anyhow, and in the winter, it’s scarcer still. But solstice brings the light around again, and hope for warmer weather in a few months, and I compulsively make plans for the new year, and the next season of art work and shows. But that seems way too practical for me on this first night after solstice.
Tonight I want to pause and be grateful for the dark. In the dark I see less, and don’t get distracted by details. I can stop to thank God for the gift of loving people that surround me. For my mother who noted early on that I had a special art gene and nurtured all creative pursuits throughout my forming years. Mom is in nursing care, so I’m grateful for the nurses that care for her daily. I’m grateful for the chance to travel 5 hours by gas powered car on a smooth road with all the cars going in the same direction so I could see her eyes and make sure she knows I love her.
In the dark I can close my eyes and focus on my husband’s grayer-than-last-year bearded face with the curled mustache that makes him look like he’s permanently smiling. I’m grateful for my husband who always supports our mutual and individual creative pursuits, and participates in wordplay with me when the art is ready for naming.
In the dark I can consider how much light and joy my grandchildren bring to my life. Through the babies, I am reminded to wonder about things, and not just think I already know them. Through the adolescent ones I’m reminded to be passionate and move ahead with confidence, even if I’m mistaken. Most of the time it doesn’t matter anyway, but life is much better with passion.
In the dark I can imagine about the ones that are gone, and I hope that we will see each other once again, in some form, be it solid or ethereal. I imagine we will take the form of something that flies, like a bird or a cloud, but that doesn’t matter either. They are loved, and so am I, and the memories are enough.