Category Archives: painting

Postcard Idea: Found Poetry

Postcard Idea: Found Poetry at amyhoodarts.com

Suppose you want to participate in the summer postcard swap but you’re not sure what to do artistically? You could do something with words instead–such as found poetry.

To do this, first we looked through magazines, newspapers, and old books (the ones we have set aside for collage purposes) for interesting phrases that we liked. This is obviously easier for kids who can read, but my 5yo really wanted to join in, so I read phrases aloud to her and she cut out ones that she liked. But otherwise, let kids choose phrases they like themselves, with no in-between.

found poetry postcard at amyhoodarts.com

Background: Liquid watercolors.

When we had phrases, we created the backgrounds. These can be as simple or complex as you’d like. Most of the ones here just use watercolors.

found poetry postcard at amyhoodarts.com

Background: Ink doodles colored in with colored pencils.

I like to collect the phrases first and then arrange something from what I have, but my 12yo looked for phrases for a specific idea. There are no hard and fast rules here. The fun is in combining words that you didn’t find together to begin with.

found poetry postcard at amyhoodarts.com

Background: Watercolor, with Sharpie pictures added after words were glued down.

My 5yo had me read all her cut-out phrases to her and then she arranged them according to some internal 5yo order. It came out sounding a bit like the Giant’s story in The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales–which is also a pretty fun outcome.

We used a glue stick to adhere our words to our postcards. The ones with watercolor backgrounds are on watercolor paper, and the one with a colored pencil background is on Bristol board. You could do this on a solid color background, too…use whatever is on hand.

Have you started working on postcards yet? Share your thoughts/ideas in the comments, or add photos in progress to the Art Together Flickr group. And don’t forget to spread the word about the swap–the more the merrier!

Paint Lab #8: The Golden Ratio

I’m continuing with my out-of-order Paint Lab exercises (first post on this project is here). Lab #8 is inspired by the Fibonacci sequence. Fibonacci was a pretty cool guy. Earlier this year my kids and I read about him in Blockhead: The Life of Fibonacci, after encountering him in the first Story of Science book by Joy Hakim. I already knew of the Fibonacci sequence, but I learned more about the man and his other contributions.

Anyway. This exercise has you use examples of the sequence, graphically displayed. I did these in my sketchbook. I printed the images out, rubbed the back of the paper with a graphite stick, then traced the image on the front to transfer the lines. Yep, it took some time. (But, making my own carbon paper in that way always makes me feel a wee bit clever.)

Paint Lab #8 at amyhoodarts.com

For this first one, I used watercolor pencils, wetting the tips before touching them to the paper. This is not hard stuff here–but it was pretty calming. Like a grown-up coloring book.

Paint Lab #8 at amyhoodarts.com

For the second one I used watercolors, going for mostly an earthy palette. I mixed some brown into my blues and greens.

The Golden Ratio as it’s related to art is an interesting thing to Google–so much information, so many examples! Do it if you have some time.

Working My Way Through Paint Lab

{Jen has a review and giveaway of Art Together Issue Four: Mixed Media. Leave her a comment by Saturday for a chance to win–and go check out what she has to say!}

I bought myself a present recently–my own copy (versus the library copy) of Paint Lab: 52 Exercises Inspired by Artists, Materials, Time, Place, and Method, by Deborah Forman. I have some other books in the Lab Series, but this one has so many exercises I want to try that I decided to make a list and work my way through them. I’m not going in order–I’ll go back to skipped ones when I get the materials I’m lacking. For instance, Lab 4 requires glazing medium, and I don’t have any.

I’ve completed two and started a third, though, and I’m enjoying the exercise-ness of them. They remind me of art class assignments. It’s very much just working things out. I think maybe framing something as an exercise lets me sink into it in a different way. Sometimes I am playing around with technique or method while I’m art-making. Sometimes I’m trying to achieve a specific design or image. And with exercises it’s a bit of problem-solving within a framework. These different ways of working engage different parts of my brain. I remember enjoying my design class exercises in college, and these remind me of those in some ways.

Paint Lab #1 at amyhoodarts.com

Paint Lab #1

This is layers of watercolor. All those dots? Pretty meditative. Not boring to do at all.

For Lab #5, Forman suggested doing the same design (created by collage first, then transferred) in two different color schemes. I also used two different types of paint and paper. The results are very different. In this first version, I used acrylic paint on canvas paper. I decided to use red, yellow, white, and green. Red and yellow are both warm colors, and green is red’s complement (it lies across it on the color wheel).

Paint Lab #5 at amyhoodarts.com

Paint Lab #5, version 1.

For the second version, I used watercolors on watercolor paper. I used the analagous colors of blue, blue-green, and green, with orange, which is blue’s complement.

Paint Lab #5 at amyhoodarts.com

Paint Lab #5 version 2.

I’ll keep posting these exercises as I do them. If anybody else has a copy of Paint Lab and wants to join in, please feel free to share links to posts or photos. It would be pretty cool to find others who have or who are working their way through the book, too.

Creating Every Day

Without really thinking about it or planning it out, I’ve been creating every day. It’s wonderful. The kids and I have been immersing ourselves in trying out ideas for the next issue of Art Together, which focuses on mixed media and collage. Here’s a sneak peek of the title.

mixed media title at amyhoodarts.com

The featured artist this issue is Joseph Cornell, and I’ve just finished reading a nearly 400-page biography on him. I suppose this is a bit more than I have to do in order to include him in the zine, but I like biographies, and going that deep certainly doesn’t hurt. The kids have enjoyed learning more about him and his artwork as well. Issue Four will be available in June, as close to June 1 as I can make it.

Along with making art with the kids, I’ve been making art for the upcoming fair.

items ready for the fair at amyhoodarts.com

This is what I have beyond the sewn pouches. I have just a few matted linocut prints, on the left. I have a half dozen stamped small Moleskine notebooks, and below those, a sampling of hand-printed or -stamped cards. The white ones are mixed media cards and work well with the linocuts; the brown ones are kraft cardstock, so I used my stamps on those. I have about ten of each. At the bottom right are large stamped Moleskines, and above those is a box of rocks.

box of painted rocks at amyhoodarts.com

I kind of just like saying “box of rocks!”

In between the making I’ve been writing–a draft of an article for Home/School/Life, and the zine too, of course. It’s a good sort of busy, with all this creating going on, and with enough variety that I can switch between different sorts of creative muscles. And of course, any day that includes art-making and creating is automatically a Very Good Day.

Craft Fair Announcement + Some Making

For those of you who are local, I’ll have a table at The Compass School’s Eco-Fair. Relevant info is on this flyer.

The Compass School Eco Fair flyer at amyhoodarts.com

I’ll be selling zippered pockets, of course, along with stamped Moleskines, stamped/printed blank cards, and possibly some matted prints. I sewed quite a few pockets last month, so this past week I’ve been busy with other things.

bunting + stamped notebooks at amyhoodarts.com

Up top is a portion of a bunting I stamped and sewed. It has eight of those triangles altogether, each with a different summery stamp. This is ultimately for the slider in our dining room, which right now is decorated with felt spring flowers on a crocheted vine. I like to change it up seasonally, but last year those flowers stayed up all summer. But I’m also going to use this to decorate my table at the fair.

Below are some small stamped Moleskines. I carved the house stamp a while ago but I don’t think I ever shared it, so here’s a close-up.

hand-carved house stamp at amyhoodarts.com

Finally, I’ve been painting rocks. I thought it would be nice to have some low-priced items that might appeal to kids, since it’s a school fair. These aren’t quite done yet. They’ll all get a coat of gloss acrylic varnish.

painted rocks at amyhoodarts.com

I’m not quite sure what to charge for these. Materials cost next to nothing, but of course they do take time (and very, very tiny brushes). Any ideas?

Poem in Your Pocket Day

Today is Poem in Your Pocket Day, part of National Poetry Month, and I have a couple of poetry-related things to share with you. Firstly, we visited the Carle Museum earlier this week, and their art studio activity was, fittingly enough, illustrating a favorite poem using watercolors. This is one of my 9yo’s paintings:

butter butter butter butter at amyhoodarts.com

9yo’s illustration of Karla Kuskin‘s poem.

I love the looseness of his butter here. It’s a great illustration of butter! It’s also a favorite poem of ours and one we recite quite often, because…butter.

As for the poem I’d like to share with you…I recently finished reading E. E. Cummings: A Life, by Susan Cheever, so here is a really lovely stanza from his poem my father moved through dooms of love–but I hope you also click through to read the entire poem:

My father moved through theys of we,
singing each new leaf out of each tree
(and every child was sure that spring
danced when she heard my father sing)

Happy Poem in Your Pocket Day, everyone.

Making + Listening::7/2014

It feels like I haven’t accomplished much this past week or so–I came down with a head and chest cold, and I thought I was on the upswing on Saturday, then boom! Sunday I woke up with a horrible sore throat, too. So it feels like I’ve been sick for nearly two weeks now. Energy levels have been pretty low.

However, in that brief bit of fake-feeling-better, I worked on this painting.

"stronger than my rock," original painting, at amyhoodarts.com

Mmm, this composition could be stronger in places. (That tree in the lower right-hand corner, by the way, is cut from a security envelope.) Let me explain about the phrase, though. It’s an important one.

In the Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus philosophizes on the absurdity of life and whether the realization of that absurdity requires suicide. I didn’t pick up Camus from out of nowhere, mind you. I sought it out after reading Stay: A History of Suicide and the Philosophies Against It (including, Camus, who argued against suicide). One of her quotes from Camus particularly resonated with me, and I wanted to read the original. I didn’t manage to read the entire book, but I did read the last chapter, “The Myth of Sisyphus.” Camus presents Sisyphus as the ultimate example of life’s futility. He is condemned to repeat the same action–rolling that damn rock up that damn hill–over and over but, Camus argues, Sisyphus is stronger than his rock.

Yes. Yesyesyes. We all have a rock. I am stronger than my rock.

After that explanation, I have no good segue into the listening portion, so here goes: Griffin House and Landon Pigg. Also, Cosmos, which I’ve been watching weekly with the kids on Tuesdays, once it shows up On Demand. Somewhere I have an old, beat-up copy of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos. He was one of the first science authors I read who wrote in an engaging way for “ordinary” people. (Another was Stephen Jay Gould. I wanted to be him.) It’s fantastic to watch with my kids and see their delight–and find out they already know some things I had no idea they knew! Science for the people. It makes me very happy.

Linking up with Dawn again this week, who is settling into her new home after her cross-continent drive. Go visit and say Welcome Home!

Hello, 2014

And it’s been a long December and there’s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass

–Counting Crows, “A Long December”

Sometime during the summer I heard this song on the radio and thought, I can’t wait until I’m slamming the door on 2013. I pictured kicking it in the ribs a few times on the way out. (I had some anger. Exercise helped.) I reflected on the past year just a few months ago in my birthday post, and I don’t have much more to add, except this: It turns out I’m not angry at 2013 after all. I’m grateful.

Just to be clear: I wouldn’t want to relive this year. Absolutely not, even though it contained some wonderful moments and experiences. But I’m grateful to have lived it. I wouldn’t have requested the situation to occur, the one that triggered such severe PTSD symptoms. When I picture the worst of the PTSD this past spring, when I try to remember, I see myself curled up, knees to chest, at the bottom of a narrow, deep hole. There’s light way at the top of it, but I’m stuck down in a close, dark place. Life is going along normally for the people at the surface–I can glimpse them going by–but down in my hole, clumps of dirt keep falling into my hair and I’m running out of air. It was like that. I don’t want to go through that again. But for most of my life I was having flashes of symptoms that I didn’t understand, blaming myself for overreacting to things, or not having gotten over whatever-it-was, guilty for feeling the wrong way. If it took that situation, this year, to trigger PTSD so severely that it had to be brought to the attention of someone who would recognize it (I will love her forever) so I could learn to understand what was going on and learn how to manage it–how can I not be grateful for that? Profoundly grateful.

Oh, 2013 was a terrible and beautiful year, all at once. I am wiser and more self-aware than I was a year ago. I like myself better. I’m more comfortable in my own skin. There was no way to get here, I’m convinced, without living through the terrible parts.

I didn’t choose a word for 2013 so much as a guidance. I hoped to remember to always choose kindness first. (The last half of 2012, it wasn’t so smooth either.) I thought if I could remember to start from a place of kindness, I’d be on the right path more often than not. I know I didn’t keep to this ideal in all situations, but it’s a good ideal, and one I will keep aspiring to. As the year wound down, I made myself a reminder. It hangs off the window that faces my kitchen sink. In other words, I will see this reminder quite a bit.

 be kind at amyhoodarts.com

I did decide to ponder a guiding word or ideal for 2014. I’ve been working on being okay with uncertainty–no small task for a control-freak Virgo who additionally thought for a long, long time that if I could just keep track of all the details, hold onto all the ropes, nothing bad would happen. (False.) I think I’ve made huge progress, but it’s going to be a lifelong practice, I believe, to embrace uncertainty. However, I didn’t want to choose “uncertainty” as a guiding word for the year. I wanted to flip it around, turn it inside out, and find a more positive-sounding word. This is what I decided upon.

serenity at amyhoodarts.com

I want to settle towards serenity in the face of whatever-may-come. Serenity, the state of being serene, that is, calm, unruffled, steady. That is my practice.

Happy New Year to you all. May it be full of good things, and remember, sometimes those good things require difficult times first.

Make + Listen: Watercolor Painting

I’m joining up with Dawn one day late for her weekly Make and Listen Along posts, but I can be excused for tardiness because we’re on Day 7 of a 9-day business trip over here! Yesterday (Day 6), we set up for a watercolor painting session.

painting session at amyhoodarts.com

Tuesday morning, the playground at the park was littered with gorgeous, vibrantly colored maple leaves, and we took some home. My 4yo and I went downstairs to try and capture the colors with paint. By the time I snapped the photo above, she had moved on to painting a still life, a collection of objects she gathered from upstairs. You can see she’s working on the rainbow.

When we sat down with our leaves, paper, and pencils to make a sketch before painting, she had the idea to trace the leave’s outline. I thought that was an excellent idea, and I did the same, loosely, and then added in some more detail freehand. We were mostly concentrating, after all, on trying to capture the colors. Here is her finished leaf, with a mix of reds and orange.

4yo's fall leaf watercolor painting

And here is mine. This was built up with many layers of paint, as we’re learning to do in the watercolor class I’ve been taking on Saturday afternoons.

autumn maple leaf, watercolor painting

While we painted, I simply had Pandora playing through the nifty wireless speaker I received for Mother’s Day this year. I’ve been playing it in the morning, too, because I find having some music on helps keep me moving forward with all the morning tasks when there’s not another adult here to interact with. This morning the first song it played for me was Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s medley of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and “What a Wonderful World.” This song was on a mix CD my husband gave me for my first Mother’s Day, when I was pregnant with our first child but not quite pregnant enough to announce it yet, and the song can still tear me up.

I love the Louie Armstrong version of “What a Wonderful World” as well, and used to sing it to my first baby as a lullaby, all those many nights when we paced the dark living room because he had colic. Now that baby is almost twelve years old, old enough to help his mama get out for a run when his dad’s away on another business trip (something for which I’m extremely grateful). Twelve years in an eyeblink, I tell you.

More Watercolor Practice

This past week, the watercolor instructor set up a still life of bottles. Glass, edges, shadows, reflections, transparency, things showing behind other things…it was a tangled morass both to draw and to paint. The method of instruction sort of feels like teaching someone to swim by throwing them into the deep end, but whatever. The four of us–there are only four students–sat there and figured it out and did our best. This is what I managed in a couple of hours. This is not considered finished, but I’ll be honest; I don’t have much enthusiasm for doing anything else with it right now.

But I will say I’m enjoying the class, because the chance to sit and draw and paint uninterrupted for a couple of hours…well, that just doesn’t happen normally in my life. So it’s a pleasure even sitting there frowning and squinting at bottles, if I have a pencil or paintbrush in my hand.

Apparently we were supposed to keep working on our apples and bring them back in to show her, so I am probably supposed to add more layers to those bottles. Instead, I fell in love with a red kuri squash in the supermarket over the weekend and took it home with the goal of painting it. Wednesday afternoon was so gorgeous, I took it outside and set it on a stump.

My attempt doesn’t really do it justice–especially the stump part. Phew. This is why I’m taking a class. I want to get better.

I’m going to keep trying to paint this squash–until it rots, I guess. It’s just so pretty, and it’s really redder than it looks, or at least I thought it was, until I started trying to mix colors to match, and then all these orange tones butted in too. This is the best reason to draw and paint, I think–because it helps you really see what you’re looking at. Anyway–I spent an hour or so outside in my yard Wednesday afternoon, on a gorgeous summer-like day in early October, painting. Pretty good use of time right there.