Carol's Little World

Mixed Media - AVAA at the DAC

2012-02-02T13:05:00.001-06:00

DACPoster-AVAAAnniversaryShow-1, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Tonight is the big opening reception for "Mixed Media" aka the 35th Anniversary Juried Exhibition from the Austin Visual Arts Association. This shindig is also called "AVAA at the DAC" for short and it promises to be a fun night with lots of great art on display.

AVAA openings are usually crowded and I anticipate this one to be no less so. Wear comfortable shoes and drink plenty of water. Please don't elbow other patrons in order to purchase your artwork-we have plenty more in the back, just ask the nearest sales clerk for assistance. Oh, and, should you happen to spot any celebrities, please do let me know who they are. I'm expecting here name, title, country of origin, last major motion picture (staring) role as well as a brief explanation of who the celeb might be in layman's terms as, when it comes to celebrities, we all know I'm one heck of a layman. (I do recognize Drew Barrymore, at least I would have had I know she was like all grown up now and not six years old anymore, the way I remember her being when she played in E.T. Come on now, I can't be the only one who stays up late at night wondering what happened to those pig tails, can I?)

See you at the DAC, folks!

Until next time...

Of Opportunities Lost

2012-01-31T21:40:00.001-06:00

GreenReflections, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

About a month ago, maybe even longer, I was alerted to a faraway art competition that was looking for entries. Being the artist that I am and knowing how I love to send off my work, I carefully cut out and collected all of the information. I've wanted to do more shows overseas and this one, why this would be just the ticket. They were looking for work, I have some work, it was free (basically) to enter, so I thought, why not, right?

Then life got in the way.

I had other shows, other commitments. Lots of groups want some of my time. I have work and house things and laundry and all kinds of stuff. Little by little, the opportunity was slipping away from my grasp.

The postal deadline was today, January 31st. Knowing that the deadline was today, I sat down last night and started to work on my submission. That's when I noticed it. As part of the submission process, they wanted actual prints. They wanted me to print and mail to them (physically mail to them) 10 glossy full color eight and a half by eleven images of my work, complete with artist's resume, C.V. and all of that other "stuff" these type of places usually want. Oh, what to do? The horror of it all.

I was tired, very tired yesterday, and I had to order some supplies for some upcoming shows (I'm almost out of matte board) and, by the time I had gotten around to it, the opportunity had slipped right through my hands.

I'm telling you this because I might have gotten into the show had I sent them something. More than likely, I would have gotten rejected. Ah, no harm no foul, right? Except that now I'll never know. I'll never know if it was in the cards for me to get that ultra-fabulous show in points faraway, no, I won't. I'll never know if it was me this year, if it was supposed to be my turn. I won't know because I didn't even try. I missed the opportunity.

There are always tons of opportunities for artists. It's hard, sometimes very hard, to keep up with such things. One could almost send one's work out continually for months on end if, you know, if you were so-inclined. It's very hard to keep up the pace sometimes, it really is. But there's still something about opportunities lost. There's still some nagging feeling that I'll never know if I could have gotten into that show, if that was "the show for me!" or not, and I never will know not because my work wasn't good enough but just simply because I could not get off my duff long enough to get it together to even enter the darned thing.

I'm sure, on some level, we really should not beat ourselves up if we miss deadlines or don't get things done. It's hard to do all that we do, I know, I've been there. For most of us, this really is a labor of love too, as there's not really enough money in it to "make a quick killing and retire" (no, you should probably try something else for that.) This really isn't a quick hit, it's more like a long slow slog to get to where you want to go, and, frankly, it isn't made any easier by missing deadlines and not getting work out the door.

I've got a lot of shows running now, I honestly do. But, today anyway, the one that bothers me is not the one's coming up, no, I'm ready for those. It's more like the one that got away that's nagging at me. I wish I could have entered. I feel so like that line from, what movie was it, "On the Waterfront" maybe? "I could have been a contender!" Alas, I guess it was just not meant to be. There's a lesson in here and, maybe someday, I'll learn fully what it is. Until then, I'll have to settle for just feeling like I can't *quite* keep up the pace. And that sucks, believe me, it doesn't feel all that great, no matter how many "little successes" I might have to make up for it. No matter how many, "yay! I have another show" messages I get or even how many rejections are slated to come my way, this one humble little show will nag at me, because I feel like I let myself down (in some way) and didn't even get it together long enough to pull off an entry. It's almost like feeling you've lost the race, not because you aren't fast enough, no, more because you didn't even find the starting line. It's a horrible sinking nagging feeling, really it is. I hope you never experience it, and I have to admit I sure don't like it very much at all.

It makes me wonder about all of the people out there who *never* send their work out at all. Maybe they are afraid of rejection or maybe they just can't get it together to enter shows or send their work off. I don't know what causes artists to miss things sometimes, but it's a shame really. So many opportunities, such a competitive field, and yet some opportunities go lost. Crumbled right before our eyes in a field of "oh, I guess I just missed that deadline" madness that only makes you feel miserable inside.

A contender indeed. Maybe someday but, sadly, not today, not on this one.

Until next time...

Happy New Year - Year of the Dragon

2012-01-29T22:50:00.001-06:00

Figures_5314, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

It's the year of the dragon and, to celebrate, today I headed over to Austin's very own Chinatown destination to try and photograph some of the free roaming dragons.

I started out the day with a great game plan. I was going to head over there early in the afternoon, take some shots, and then get some Chinese food to go and bring it back home, to share with the family. So, I packed up the camera and the car and headed over to Chinatown, Austin to get some shots.

The shooting was fine-same as it is every year. The crowds are really big there and it's hard to shoot through a lot of people holding up kids and iPhones (this year there were even some people with iPads up high.) I got a couple of shots to add to my on-going series about Austin's Chinatown, but not a heck of a lot. Maybe a few, here and there. I do love what the lensbaby does to the puppet dragons, I must admit, so I shot a bunch of those. After a few dragon lensbabies, I headed over to the food store to get my take out. All well and good there, I had some chicken, orange chicken and sesame chicken plus gobs of rice for the family. (Even Chase had a taste once I got home.) I packed up the car and camera again and that's when it hit me. My car, I had parked my car in front of this one market and I could not get out! The dragons had sort of "parked me in" if you will. I was trapped!

Rather than try to beat them (hey, they are dragons after all!) I thought it wise to just hang out a few more minutes. I grabbed the lensbaby and small camera again and went back for more dragon goodness. Finally, after a few children saw fit to feed them and they blew a bunch more firecrackers, I was able to get the car out, but not before they hit me in the face with some firecracker action. Like, seriously. Today, I can honestly say a dragon shot me in the face with a firecracker while I was waiting to back up my car. I mean, how many people do you know can say *that* with a straight face and really mean it?

Pesky dragons. What's next? I bet they ate up all of the sweet tasting bok choy too. (Somebody, please tell me that next year is not in fact the year of the rat! I just so don't what to go *there* ok?)

This shot was taken inside the market. It's some of the figurines they have there for sale. I love that market too-more shots from there to follow.

Happy New Year! (Look out for that dragon!)

Until next time...

Ten Long Years (and counting!)

2012-01-25T18:57:00.001-06:00

, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Ten years....ten long years. That's a lot of time in blog-land. That's a lot of little white boxes with blue [POST] buttons, isn't it? That's a lot of art and photography. That's a lot of burnt dinners, dried toast, frozen cocktails, and outlaws on the run.

Hard to believe it, but it's true. This month, on January 16th to be precise, I celebrated an anniversary of sorts. I started blogging on January 16th, 2002. That's ten years of blogging, ten years of me sitting down at my computer to share with you a slice of life from my day.

When I first started blogging, ipods were "newfangled" devices and hardly anybody else was blogging. Blogs were sort of "play things" that nobody really took seriously. Those that had heard of them thought they were "journals of some kind...on the Internet, no?" Um, I guess, "no" would be spot on right about now. It's hard for me to even imagine the incredible things blogs have done for people and, likewise, the incredible blogs some people have done. I'm constantly amazed at how bloggers continually find new and creative ways of expressing themselves given this humble "new media" outlet.

In the early days of blogs, most of us thought they would not last very long. Nobody imagined ever making a living from one or using one to sell anything. Most people were kind of afraid somebody like their boyfriend might find it and read it. Everybody was kind of putting out feelers, like trying to make their way in the dark. Nobody had "traffic reports" or statistics (yet) and it was hard to even get listed in the search engines. Hard to believe because now Google owns Blogger, but Blogger was a small little start-up with a dream and a lot of passionate users. And grilled cheese sandwiches. We at a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches in those days, didn't we?

Blogging has changed in so many ways over the years, but yet it somehow remains quite the same for me. It's all about me sitting down, at that little white box, facing that bright blue [POST] button, sharing a little bit of my day or my life or my work with you, asking questions, telling stories, sharing fables, swapping cooking disasters, fashion mishaps, and even some of the music we all love. I've talked about true crime as it happened and told you what I ate for lunch yesterday that was oh so tasty. You've shared in my car repairs, my chance meetings, my paintings, and shots I've taken in points afar.

It's hard for me to believe that I once posted a blog entry from Italy. Now, of course, I can remember doing it. I remember sitting down in a bar in Venice, logging on to some antiquated computer that would type "itsa" for me instead of "it's a" because the keys were all programmed differently, to "speak" Italian somehow. I had a glass of Jameson, sat down and, "itsa" key be damned, I told you what it was like landing in Venice for the first time, and what my day was like in the Veneto. I've blogged from hotel lobby's in Iceland and volcanoes in Hawaii, New Orleans coffee shops and God only knows how many airports. (Oh, those are the worst!) Heck, I think I even blogged once from some airport after I had forgotten where I was and had to ask somebody ("Excuse me...is this Phoenix? Philadelphia! Oh right....I knew that." Ok, so I admit it now...I really didn't at the time.)

And don't get me started on the pictures. The pictures. The pictures I've taken fort the blog! When I first started blogging, it was words only. Words, words, words. That's all we thought it would ever be. Now? Video? Are you kidding me? E-books? Movies? Photos instantly processed from my phone? Who knew, right?

Technology has come a long way and blogging has really changed over those years. It feels great to be able to do so much so much more easily now. It's great to be able to create new content for the web on a regular basis and I just love being able to share my ups and downs, trials and tribulations with everybody. I've gotten to meet a lot of new friends on the blog too-not just "Internet friends" no, actual real people. I've met some of you in the flesh and sometimes even get introduced as, "Oh, this is Carol and she runs a blog that...." Yes, I really am *that* Carol. Hard to believe, isn't it? (Believe me, it's even harder for me to believe sometimes. Often, I look over my shoulder and wonder who these people are talking about!)

After all this time, so much has changed, yet so much remains the same. I sit down, collect my thoughts, write whatever happens to pop into my head, hope I don't spell too many words too horribly wrong, and wonder what you will do with all of these extra commas. (I love extra commas, don't I?) I happily click on the blue [POST] button and share a bit of my day with the rest of the world. I do it as often as I can, no apologies, all in fun, all as a form of personal expression. It's an art form for me, in a way, and I love it. I wouldn't change a thing.

Speaking of the great big world, travels, and the like, who knew that so many people from so far away would ever check in here? Greetings to all of you from afar. I'm always especially touched when service members check in and tell me they were homesick and used my blog to remind themselves what it felt like to live in New Orleans or New York or wherever they happen to live. I'm glad and happy to share a wee bit of home with you, even if it is from miles away and with many Internet hops in-between.

For those of you looking to start blogging, I'd encourage you to go for it. It's the most fun a little white box with a bright blue [POST] button can give you. Trust me, it's a fun happening game to play. For those of you who pop in here and read this, even if it's only once in a while, even if you never happen back by this way again, I wish you all the best too. I really am very thankful that each and every one of you stop by and share your world with me as well. Finally, for those of you who make this software and help put together all of this tangled Internet web we all gloriously weave together, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for the tireless work you do bringing these sites together and helping us craft the content that we do. You guys (and gals!) rock! Please never forget that, no matter how many unreasonable demands or new frontiers you may face.

To all of my friends and family, to my artist buddies, photographers I have met on journeys afar and nosy neighbors who dropped in here for only a short visit, thanks for stopping by and I wish you the best. This is your anniversary too, for I would not be able to celebrate my 10 years without having you in the picture. This is your 10 years as much as mine, so please enjoy it. Pour yourself a drink, kick back, and say, "Wow! Has it really been that long?" Why it has, and yet, somehow, it seems like it was only yesterday that it all just started.

Ten years...ten long years....Wow! Who would have ever guessed I would make it this far?

Until next time...

Show News

2012-01-24T18:01:00.001-06:00

SunriseOverAshes_1946, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Time for a commercial, as they say, since I've got some show news to tell you about.

For starters, I have work included in the Winter exhibit over at A. Smith Gallery in Johnson City. The show opens this Saturday evening and runs for about a month. It's a great looking show from what I have seen of it, juried by Jean Caslin former director of the Houston Center for Photography. Great looking show, that one is and it's out in the beautiful Hill Country when the weather is nice. What more could you ask, right?

After that I will have work included in the People's Gallery at the Austin City Hall. This is always a big shindig of a show, with about 26,000 people showing up (that's not a type-o) for the opening night festivities. It usually even makes it onto the evening news (they film live from there opening night) so look for that if you are in the Austin area. It always promises to be a great show, with tons of varied work. For those of you not from the Austin area, the Austin City Council holds a year-long show of art inside the City Hall building, which is a wonderful new building right in middle of downtown. It's a modern stone and copper building with wonderful angles and lines and they absolutely fill it with artwork. They have a juror for the work too, sometimes a jury panel even, it's actually a bit hard to get into the show, as many artists from the Austin-area apply to get into the exhibition, it's free to enter, and all of that. I was one of the lucky ones selected this year, so my work will be up in the City Hall for the next 11 months or so.

Lastly, I've got some work included in the upcoming Austin Visual Arts Association (AVAA) 35th Anniversary show at the Dougherty Arts Center (DAC.) AVAA at the DAC is a big deal too, in part because I'm on the faculty for the DAC but also because AVAA is one of the oldest artist organizations in Austin and they always put on great shows. Great shows, I tell you, with lots of festivities and fun for all. The DAC is such a great venue for the AVAA shows. A few years ago, Liz Smith, the columnist for the Daily News showed up for the opening reception. (Really, she did. I'm not making this up-she was in town and decided to just pop by for a visit.) I didn't speak to her but I was later told she almost bought one of my pieces. Like, wow, who knew, right? AVAA shows are like that though-you can have a brush with fame and not even really know it. Of course, this being Austin, some guy riding a bicycle while wearing a thong might show up as well. Odds are about equal on that one, although there's no telling really where the guy in the thong would carry a painting if he were to purchase one. I'll leave this as an, ahem, "exercise for the reader" and just move right on along.

I'm also wrapping up some plans for the coming year. This year, I hope to travel a bit more and then also maybe do some classes, plus I'm getting a lot of shows together. I've also been painting up a storm, so look for me to finish those anytime soon and try to drum up a 1-person show of my paintings. Of course, I say that now, as if this really could happen but, you never do know. (It would be a prettier picture than the guy in a thong on a bicycle, that's for sure.)

This shot is from the volcano area in Kona. Originally, I was going to upload it and include some long-form post about how I've been kind of depressed lately. I'll spare you the details, but I've been feeling a bit down in the dumps recently. Maybe some of these shows and more painting will help get me out of my doldrums. Eh, one can only hope, right? ("Hey! You there....Guy in a thong riding a bicycle carrying a large recently-purchased painting...Yes, I'm talking to you. Please come ride over this way. I sure could use a good laugh right about now...." We thank you in advance for your friendly cooperation. --The management.)

Until next time...

Painters Every Photographer Should Know - Georgia O’Keeffe

2012-01-20T22:53:00.001-06:00

For many, the word southwest conjures up familiar motifs like adobe buildings, cactus flowers in the desert, and even the ever-so-iconic abandoned animal skull in an otherwise barren landscape. One of the artists most closely associated with this vision of the American southwest is Wisconsin native Georgia O’Keeffe. Though she was born near Sun Prairie, Wisconsin in 1887, there are few artists as closely associated with the iconic imagery of the American southwestern landscape as O’Keeffe.

Born in a farmhouse to dairy farmer parents, Francis Calyxtus O'Keeffe and Ida Totto O'Keeffe, Georgia O’Keeffe was the first daughter and second of seven children. Though she came from farming roots Georgia O’Keeffe demonstrated an interest in the arts from an early age. As a child, she enrolled in the Town Hall School in Wisconsin and began her artistic studies under local watercolorist Sara Mann. She would later go on to attend high school in Madison, Wisconsin. Living with her aunt while her family moved to Williamsburg, Virginia, she completed her high school education at Chatham Hall. After high school, she continued her studies in art at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Art Students League in New York where she studied under William Merritt Chase. While at the Art Students League, she won a scholarship to attend the League’s outdoor summer school at Lake George, New York.

In 1908, O’Keeffe attend an exhibition of Rodin’s watercolors at the then up-and-coming gallery 291. Owned by photographer Alfred Stieglitz, gallery 291 was located at 291 5th Avenue in New York and was famous for showcasing a smattering of then avant-garde European artists along with pioneering artistic photographers from that era. The year 1908 was also the year that market O’Keeffe’s first abandonment of her artistic pursuits. She stopped painting until 1912 when she was inspired to pick it up again after attending a summer school class at the University of Virginia. Under the teachings of Arthur Wesley Dow and Alon Bement her work took a dramatically different course. Dow’s belief was that art should express the artist’s personal ideas and feelings; that an artistic subject was best realized through harmonious arrangements of line, color, and notan (the Japanese system of lights and darks). From 1012-1914 O’Keefe taught art in the public school system of Amarillo, Texas before going to New York to attend Columbia University and further her artistic studies under Dow.

The fall of 1915 found her teaching at Columbia College, Columbia, South Carolina and she began a series of abstract charcoal drawings. Now considered pivotal to her career and some of the most innovative American art from the time period, she mailed some of these drawings to a former classmate at Columbia, who in turned showed them to Stieglitz in January of 1916.

Stieglitz had told O’Keeffe he was planning to exhibit her charcoal drawings but neglected to tell her when. When she first visited Gallery 291 in 1908 she did not speak with Stieglitz directly and, upon her visit to the gallery again in April of 1916, was surprised to find ten of her drawings on display. She confronted Stieglitz over the drawings but agreed to let them remain on exhibit for the duration of the show. In June 1917, two months after the United States declared war on Germany, Stieglitz closed Gallery 291 with a solo show of O’Keeffe’s work, including oil paintings and watercolors completed in Texas. Stieglitz and O'Keeffe corresponded frequently beginning in 1916, and in June 1918, she accepted Stieglitz's invitation to move to New York. According to Wikipedia, “The two were deeply in love, and shortly after her arrival, they began living together, even though the then married Stieglitz was 23 years her senior. That year Stieglitz first took O'Keeffe to his family home at the village of Lake George in New York's Adirondack Mountains, and they spent part of every year there until 1929, when O'Keeffe spent the first of many summers painting in New Mexico. In 1924 Stieglitz's divorce was finally approved by a judge, and within four months he and O'Keeffe married.”

Stieglitz started photographing O’Keeffe in 1917 and by the time of his retirement in 1935 had amassed some 350 portraits of her. After their marriage until Stieglitz’s death in 1946, Stieglitz promoted O’Keeffe’s work, organizing annual exhibitions of her art at The Anderson Galleries (1923–1925), The Intimate Gallery (1925–1929), and An American Place (1929–1946).

Shortly after 1918, O'Keeffe began working primarily in oil, moving away from the primarily watercolor work she did in the earlier 1910’s. By the mid-1920s, O'Keeffe shifted to making large-scale paintings of natural forms at close range, as if seen through a magnifying lens. In 1924 she painted her first large-scale flower painting Petunia, No. 2, which was first exhibited in 1925. She also completed a significant body of paintings of New York buildings, such as City Night and New York—Night, 1926, and Radiator Bldg—Night, New York, 1927. Starting in the mid-1920’s O’Keeffe started painting these New York skyscrapers and also a series large-scale flowers, shown as if seen close up. It was during this time that she had become recognized as one of America's most important and successful artists. It was also during this time that her work became embraced by the feminist movement. Though her work from this time was mostly abstract, pieces like Black Iris III (1926) evoke a veiled representation of female genitalia while also accurately depicting the center of an iris. O’Keeffe rejected this feminist view of her artwork, often saying that it sounded too much like what men wrote about art during that period. By the late 1920’s, her work commanded high prices. Six of her calla lily paintings were slated to go on sale for $25,000 which, at that time, was the largest sum ever paid for a group of paintings by a living American artist. Though the sale fell through, Stieglitz’s promotion of the sale stirred up a lot of attention from the media.

Searching for a new source of inspiration, a train trip in May, 1929 with Rebecca Strand to Santa Fe provided just what she needed. She setup studio in Taos, New Mexico and began going on many pack trips. Some work from this time includes “The Lawrence Tree” completed in 1929 at the D. H. Lawrence Ranch and several paintings of the St. Francis of Assisi Missionary at Ranchos de Taos. Between 1929 and 1949, O’Keeffe continued her work in New Mexico. She started collecting objects to paint, such as rocks and bones, and also went camping often with friends. In 1961, she went on a rafting trip down the Colorado River near Glen Canyon, Utah with photographers Eliot Porter and Todd Webb.

In 1932, O’Keeffe was slated to complete a mural project at Radio City Music Hall but late in 1932, O’Keeffe suffered a nervous breakdown, brought on, in part, because the project had fallen behind schedule. She was hospitalized in early 1933 and did not paint again until January 1934. She traveled to Bermuda in the spring of 1933 and 1934 to recover, but returned to New Mexico in the summer of 1934. In August of 1934, she visited Ghost Ranch, a 21,000 acre land grant area north of Abiquiu, New Mexico. She decided immediately to live there and, in 1940, purchased a house on the ranch property. She would later also purchase another house in Abiquiu but she is most closely associated with the Ghost Ranch location. Many people refer to this area of New Mexico as “O’Keeffe Country” and much of her work from this time highlighted the natural beauty of the desert. Today that location houses an education and retreat center and is often used as a set for movies. In 1977, O'Keeffe wrote of Ghost Ranch: "[the] cliffs over there are almost painted for you -- you think -- until you try to paint them." She had many guests and visitors at her ranch house over the years, including Charles and Anne Lindbergh, Joni Mitchell, Alan Ginsberg, and Ansel Adams.

In the 1930’s and 1940’s, O’Keeffe’s reputation and popularity continued to grow and she earned several noted commissions, including one for the Dole Pineapple Company. She completed several paintings featuring a cow’s skull adorned with various wildflowers against a desert background, including “Summer Days” (1936) which became one of her most famous paintings. During the 1940’s she had retrospectives at the Art Institute of Chicago (1943) and the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in 1946, which was the first retrospective held at MOME for a female artist. She was also awarded many honorary degrees and awards during this time and the Whitney Museum of American Art sponsored a project to catalogue of her work.

Shortly after O'Keeffe arrived for the summer in New Mexico in 1946, Stieglitz suffered a cerebral thrombosis. She flew to New York to be with him, and he died on July 13, 1946. After his death, she spent the next three years mostly in New York settling his estate but moved to New Mexico permanently in 1949. Starting in 1946 and continuing into the 1950’s, she started painting the architectural forms of her house in Abiquiu. Her paintings featured the patio walls and doors, celebrating the Adobe architecture. Later, her work in the 1960’s focused on clouds. Inspired by her views from the windows of airplanes, she completed a series of aerial cloudscape canvases in the early 1960’s. In 1962, O'Keeffe was elected to the fifty-member American Academy of arts and Letters. In the fall of 1970, the Whitney Museum of American Art mounted the Georgia O'Keeffe Retrospective Exhibition, the first retrospective exhibition of her work in New York since 1946, the year Stieglitz died. This exhibit did much to revive her public career.

In 1972, she stopped painting in oil due to failing eyesight but switched to continued working in pencil and charcoal until 1984. In 1973, a young potter, Juan Hamilton, appeared at her ranch house looking for work. She hired him for a few odd jobs and soon employed him full time. He became her closest confidante, companion, and business manager until her death. Hamilton taught O'Keeffe to work with clay, and working with assistance, she produced clay pots and a series of works in watercolor. In 1976, she wrote a book about her art and allowed a film to be made about her in 1977. On January 10, 1977, she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest honor awarded to American citizens, by then President Gerald Ford. In 1985, she was awarded the National Medal of Arts. In 1984, she moved to Santa Fe where she became increasingly frail. She died on March 6, 1986 at the age of 98, leaving behind a legacy of artwork we still celebrate today.

What Photographers Can Learn from Her
In real estate terms, they say that there are three things that contribute to the value of a property, these are: location, location, and location. As is true for real estate, so too can it be said of O’Keeffe’s work; it’s much about: perspective, perspective, perspective. The notion of painting something the way it might appear as viewed under a magnifying glass brings an entire new world to the artist’s canvas. Much of photography is indeed about perspective and many photographers have milked a unique perspective to create a refreshingly new bold striking image.

Many photographers are used to hearing (and probably more than a few are guilty of repeating) the phrase, “it’s all been done before” as it applies to photography, or even artwork in general. Probably more than a few are also guilty of resorting to the same perspective over and over again. There is a familiar old saying about perspective: “Look up! Look Down! Look all around you!” That’s very good advice for somebody looking to do something different with their photographic work. Indeed, a unique or personal perspective can make even an ordinary subject matter come to life and can show us a completely new, personal viewpoint of a tired old otherwise photographed to death subject. Many of the icon images we hold dear offer us a unique perspective from the photographer, as a unique view can really make an otherwise boring image really sing.

Look no further than the floral portraits from photographer Robert Mapplethorpe to see what a fresh perspective can bring to an often (or even over) photographed subject. By carefully arranging flowers and treating them visually as human-like subjects he created almost minimal yet vivid portraits of flowers. Just like O’Keeffe’s flowers, Mapplethorpe’s flower images have often been described as having a sexual undertone-one can approach them by viewing the male and female aspects of the plant, in that Mapplethorpe’s blossoms contain aspects of each gender. It’s not hard to look at a Mapplethorpe flower portrait and see the striking male aspects of the flower, with the phallic stamen rising or the soft feminine curves of the blossom’s edge, but the perspective aspect of the work goes beyond sex-it’s a unique perspective on a common subject. Many, perhaps all photographers photograph flowers, what makes Mapplethorpe’s flowers striking is the unique perspective combined with the brilliant lighting and stark composition. He didn’t just shoot flowers, he shot Mapplethorpe flowers and they were unmistakably his.

I once attended a lecture by a local photography professor. As part of the talk, he made the comment that he could always tell, “how tall [his] first year students were by simply adding about six inches to the perspective of their photographs.” So many of his students shot the same images over and over again, each holding the camera up to their eye, each getting a “standing eye” perspective on the same scene, that it was easy for him to just add six inches to the height of the image to calculate how tall the photographer was. If you’re tired of shooting the same old subjects, try a different perspective to put a fresh new face on your work. Show us a bird’s eye view, show us an ant’s eye view, get on the ground, sit down, stand on a chair, or just move around. A great way to go about doing this is to bring a child along with you when you photograph-children often see things at their height and it’s a whole new world, looking at things through their eyes. Macro lenses can also do this for us-as O’Keeffe discovered, it’s a whole new world when you magnify items and play with scale and perspective to bring us new sights and fresh takes on familiar subjects. Large things can look small or unrecognizable, while small things can explode before our eyes.

O’Keeffe’s work combined both a strong sense of place-the American southwest, coupled with a very unique perspective in a blend of strong painting technique. I’m sure not everybody likes O’Keeffe’s style of painting, no, but there’s no denying that she painted the American southwest in the way that she saw it. Such an idiomatic view helped define who she was as an artist-it’s almost impossible to separate her work from her vantage point. Having a sense of place in photographic work is also a key takeaway from O’Keeffe. She showed us enough of the surround to ground the work-we know what it is we’re looking at-yet let just enough for the viewer to bring a personal interpretation. A sense of place in a composition allows a single frame, a single piece, to both set the stage and turn into the main act, because it provides enough backdrop to inform yet does not detract.

With her unique perspective and strong connection to the southwest, Georgia O’Keeffe has been a respected icon of the art world for generations. Today, the southwestern master with a fondness for painting “the faraway” earns her spot in the ranks of Painters Every Photographer Should Know. You can read more about Georgia O’Keeffe on her Wikipedia entry and look for more painters (and posts) in the series to come.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is next in a series called "Painters Every Photographer Should Know." The painting shown here is Georgia O'Keeffe's "Ram's Head White Hollyhock and Little Hills" (1935). Please note that the paintings and photographs in this series are not copyright the author of this website, may be subject to international copyright law, and are provided her for educational purposes only.

Get the Call

2012-01-16T22:02:00.001-06:00

RedSkyNight_5632, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Recently, a friend of mine posted something on her blog about how she was "responding to an artist's call." The call for entries or "artist's call" is quite common in the art world. Anybody who thinks that artists (or photographers) spend all of their days partying like rock stars or "puffing" model's hair rather than doing any actual "real" work needs only to look once at an "artist's call" to discover what it is we actually do all day long. Oh the humanity!

It starts when the galleries, curators, shows, art organizations, etc. put out the call for entries. This detailed fact sheet tells us about the show, the details of the show, the requirements for the show and all sorts of other information about the show. We basically have to read through page after page of requirements and information detailing how to enter, and that's only when the fun begins. After this, we have to prep our digital files, which often means re-sizing things in photoshop, organizing, arranging, editing, sharpening, crafting JPEG's with the proper names, in the right formats, etc. It's a lot of work, believe me and, hate to be the one to tell you this if you have not discovered it already, but it's time consuming.

Many artists who are not photographers have to spend a lot of time just taking photos of their work. It can be quite difficult to get good quality images of your work, believe me, I know how difficult it can be. It's not always the easiest thing in the world to take a great shot of an oil painting, trust me on this (in case you have never tried it before.)

There is a long-running sort of "inside joke" about my Jacuzzi-if you have not heard it, allow me to fill you in-I actually use my bath tub/jacuzzi setup in my house to photograph my artwork. Since it's white and the bath is very bright it makes for a great copy station and I seldom (if ever) take a bath (don't worry, I don't stink or anything like that...I just prefer the shower to the free-standing tub.) My bathtub has probably been home to more artwork than several museums, as I sometimes photograph artwork for other artists (for a reasonable fee, of course, but luckily most of them know me well enough and are comfortable enough with my photography skills to trust my "bathtub" results.) I sometimes refer to this as my "Jacuzzi copy stand" or "getting Jacuzzi results." Anything that hints at the tub often results in strange glances from more than few folks and more than one knowing nod of acknowledgement. Many of the artists in Austin, it would appear, are onto this "Jacuzzi setup" and don't seem to mind so long as it produces results (which it does, believe me, it does.) I think half the people know and want a Jacuzzi just so they could photograph their artwork and the others are afraid to ask what this "Jacuzzi" business is all about. Perhaps it's better too if they are left in the dark about the entire "Jacuzzi" thing, because it might make them afraid to find out what's going on in the tub, when somebody is not busy taking a bath in it, that is.

For those who are not photographers though, it can be daunting just to get acceptable images of one's work and then, to have to go on and to re-size everything, re-format, fight with Photoshop, title everything with all kinds of special characters, etc. It's downright madness. It's enough to drive people crazy, let me tell you. But, alas, it's something we all need to do. It's how the galleries catalog and get information about our work, not to mention it's how we get the work "out there" so it's something we try to do. We all have to do it at some point, even though it's not very fun and we each can probably think of a million things we would rather be doing.

I always feel like I should be sending out at least 8-10 submissions each month. Unfortunately, it seems like I seldom can manage to get even that much out the door. Between making new work and balancing the juggling act of submitting work all over the place, it can be quite difficult to manage all of this. On top of this, you have to remember who has what work and where you have submitted work to...which places have what...and it's very hard to keep track of all of this.

If you're not familiar with the process, I can tell you that it boils down to lots and lots of paperwork. There is a lot of time and energy that goes into these sorts of things and often it's for nothing, as we can just as easily get rejected from a show as we can get accepted. It's no wonder many artists have gone mad over the years-I can literally see why this happens, as it's hard to keep all of this straight and it would be more than easy to just go crazy from all of this paperwork and red tape. Some days anyway, it feels as if we are lucky if we get to create in-between all of the mountains of paperwork and other odd things we have to do that nobody ever detailed in art class.

Then I remember how lucky I am that I get to paint. How lucky I am that I can afford paint and panels and pigment sticks (God, those are expensive) and wax and "shipping fees" and insurance payments to go along with the insurance forms we sent to the galleries as part of the artist's call. I'm lucky to be sitting here typing this to you too-many people can't do a blog or they can't paint or they can't show their work because it's too difficult or they just don't have the time, money, or inclination. I really do feel blessed and lucky that I get to paint and do what it is that I do when I get to do it. Really, I do. Even if it sounds like I spend too much time, much too much time, fighting with the mountains of paperwork. I do really love this. I love creating. Actually, lately it seems like I've been living to paint more than painting to live, that's how much I love doing all of this. I really want to jump in, head first, and paint, paint, paint.

I've started planning for the new year too and I think this year might find me visiting New Orleans, Barcelona, maybe rural France. There's a big world out there and I'm excited to be a small part of getting to go out into it, to explore more of it then I've seen already. I hope to get to go, to travel more this year. It will make all of the paperwork seem worthwhile, that's for sure.

So next time we get the call, maybe it's hard, but we should all try to remember how lucky we are. Lucky that the phone is still ringing, lucky that the artwork is ready, lucky that we can answer the call and that we have work to submit, for not everybody does. Yes, I'd have to say that, as the first artist's calls for the new year go out, we should all try to remember how lucky we are that we can provide the "entries" in the call for entries that flood our in-boxes this time of year. Maybe next time you get the call, you'll answer the call and your work will be selected too. We can only hope for that, right? Isn't that what we all hope for, all of the time anyway?

To my artist friends, I hope the new year brings you lots of artist's calls and finds you with lots of work going out, even if it means mountains of paperwork on the sidelines. Even if you get slightly buried under, I hope your work gets out there, where it needs to be, because that's why we do all of this. It's what keeps us all going, isn't it?

(Enough waxing philosophical for the evening, I've got paperwork to attend to and images to re-size before the morning comes.)

Until next time...

Mottled Earth and Sky

2012-01-14T18:36:00.001-06:00

MottledEarthAndSky_5641, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Finally shot some of my encaustic panels today, so that you could have a look and see too what I am talking about when I talk about my encaustics. This one is called "Mottled Earth and Sky" and it's an 18x24 inch pigment and encaustic on panel piece that is already completed.

I currently have four pieces from the series finished and hope to continue this series until it reaches about 20 pieces. Wish me luck with that, for I am going to need it. For now though, the four pieces have been photographed, uploaded to flickr, uploaded to HouseOfCarol.com and now one of them has even been blogged (here) for your viewing pleasure. Can't say I never showed them to you now, can you?

Hopefully more studio work tomorrow will bring more pieces. Wish me luck with that, right?

Until next time...

Cloudy with a Chance of Art

2012-01-13T07:07:00.001-06:00

CloudsBWSQ_9863, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

The forecast for this weekend calls for it to be cloudy with a chance of art.

I've got some painting laid out that I want to finish and even some photography in the mix. I might be working on my sketchbook project this weekend too, if I get around to it. Lots of stuff up on tap and very little time to get it all done. Here's hoping, right?

In other news, allergy season is in full swing here in Texas. Yesterday, I was totally under the weather and not feeling well at all. Today brings a new day and I'm starting to feel a bit more chipper, which is a good thing, because I really do want to paint a lot this weekend. A lot. Did I mention I want to paint a lot? Yes, thought I did.

I love these kinds of puffy clouds and wish they had them all over the place. These clouds were brought to you thanks to some steam vents in rural Iceland. Steam vents? Yes, these have those there. It's how they get electricity, believe it or not. Very cool, isn't it? Cool clouds make for cool electricity. Geothermal "puffs" it's what all of the cool kids are wearing these days.

Until next time...

The Year that Was 2011 - Time for My Annual Round-up and Recap

2012-01-10T07:14:00.001-06:00

IcePoint_2875, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Every once in a while, I like to take stock in where I am and what I’m doing. Normally, I do this as a run-up to the New Year but instead this year I’ve decided to wait until the New Year actually arrived before starting my planning sessions. As I get more and more accomplished as an artist, these planning sessions, unfortunately, become harder and harder to do. More details, more people involved in the process, more logistics to work out. Ugh! This year is no exception. There are so many things I want to fit into the new year and only so much time to fit it all in. Because of this, I thought I would start with my annual re-cap-I would start by looking at 2011 and see how I did.

For starters, I wrote 171 blog posts in 2011. That’s far fewer than I have in year’s past-I’ve really let the blog slip some, but I do still try to keep up. Facebook, Twitter, and other forms of social media have stepped in and stepped up a bit, in order to fill in that void. I think though that, going forward, I would like to make more meaningful blog posts and I would like to continue to post more frequently. We shall see how I can get along with that, seeing as I have a lot on my plate this year.

Early 2011 found me on a few oddball location shoots. I shot the Chinese New Year celebrations (with flame-breathing dragons!) in Austin and also traveled to Kona for the first of my location shoots. While in Kona, I got to witness the start of a volcanic eruption, which was an adventure, and I got to enjoy a lot of golden sunsets and wonderful shooting in the tropics, which were relaxing and productive.

March brought Alpha Rev at the South by Southwest music festival, which was a real treat and lots of shows, which were fun. April found me getting more new gear-a tripod this time. I’d have to admit that 2011 was the “year of gear” for me, as I got no less than 3 new cameras last year. Phew! Finally settled on the “baby mark” aka the Canon 5D Mark II as my main rig and that’s worked out quite well. I highly recommend this camera to anybody but it sure took me a while to find it and settle down into that grove. Sometimes experience comes in packages from the camera store afar, I guess. I also got a new tripod, new head (well, same as the old head only not as beat up) a new fisheye lens and lots of other stuff. Phew!

May found me making my first movie, “80 Shots” from my work, a practice I intend to continue in 2012. June brought some pinhole work, a museum show, a show in Seattle, and lots of odds and ends.

July started the quest for a new location, which kicked off the planning and preparations for my Iceland trip in August. I also managed to complete a draft copy of a book I have in the works. Still working on that one, but hope to complete it in 2012. Of course, more shows as well were going on. Always shows, lots and lots of shows happening. It keeps the world going round and round, I suppose.

Half of August was spent on location in Iceland, including time spent trying to get back after (during?) hurricane Irene. Lots of spent compact flash over that one, as Iceland is a wonderful place. It’s a must-see for photographers, I place I intend to re-visit, and a wonderful memory all tied into one. What a great trip I had and I can hardly wait to go back and visit that place again. It’s wonderful-so hard to even pick a high point but, if I had to do it, it would probably have been getting to shoot icebergs while it was 108 in my current hometown of Austin. That was, well, if I say “cool” will you promise not to laugh at me? Cool in more ways the one, let’s leave it at that, ok?

September brought on the great drought of Texas, wildfires and the start of preparations for the East Austin Studio Tour (EAST.) October, some painting and more preparations for the big tour were underway.

November was National Blog Posting Month or NaBloPoMo as they like to call it, so you heard me “yapping and snapping” quite a bit over the course of the month. Lots of deep inner thoughts and musings on art and life in general, not to mention the chaos and fun that EAST brings. EAST was a banner year this year, in terms of getting the work out there and having more work than ever displayed as part of the festivities.

December had a wind-down of sorts. I actually got to enjoy a great holiday and headed deep into the studio for a multi-piece series of larger-ish paintings. Presented on 18x24 inch panels, my “Earthen/Dusk” series will be (hopefully!) 20 panels of work once complete. It’s larger than I have worked in the past and it promises to be a 20 piece series, suitable for a 1-person show once complete. Wish me luck what that, as this is still very much a work in progress.

There were some great shows in 2011, including a museum show in Texas, the EAST tour, a show in Seattle, a show in Vermont, and a 1-person show as part of South by Southwest. If I had to wrap it up, I’d say 2011 was a great year for travel (Iceland, Kona, etc.) a great year for shows (lots to pick from here) and a “year for new gear” with lots of packages headed my way.

A few days ago, I posted the image Flickr considered my "Shot of the Year" for 2011. While I tend to agree with Flickr (it is, after all, an algorithm and so it's kind of hard to argue with that, right?) I do tend to think of this image, and ones like it, as my "Shot of the Year" for 2011. The icebergs really define 2011 in a lot of ways for me. Shooting something different, using new camera gear, traveling to points previously unknown to me, and sort of the "poetry of ice" come together to make 2011 a memorable year for me.

Next up, we’ll start the actually planning for the 2012 year in art and photography. Oh what an adventure 2012 is going to be. I can hardly wait!

Until next time...

Circumstantial Undertones

2012-01-09T07:54:00.001-06:00

CircumstantialUndertones_5625, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

This weekend, I ordered a frame for my prior "mistake" piece, called "Circumstantial Undertones." Since I have the frame coming in the mail, I thought it might be a good idea to (finally) post a picture of the finished piece (well, finished minus the frame.) This is "Circumstantial Undertones" in all of its glory, I hope you like it.

You can kind of see the undertones of the colors I layered in the wax as I made layer after layer of "mistake." You can kind of see the colors in a muted sort of a way, and the yarn is in there too, if you look closely enough. I'd have to say that this now is one of my favorite pieces.

This weekend, apart from attending the wonderful show by local Austin favorite artist Will Klemm, I worked in my studio to "tidy up" some additional mistakes. I have a few other pieces I have wanted to re-work, so I started doing that, and I've have to say they don't look so bad. I've actually managed to save a few pieces here and there. I think I managed to save 2 pieces and lay down the ground (under painting) for a new, third piece.

When I started this project, one of my goals was to have 20 new pieces ready by January 15th. I'm probably not going to make that goal. In fact, it's now January 9th and I have 3 pieces completed with at least another 3 in the works (4-5 actually.) Even if all 3 of the pieces I worked on this weekend turn out ok in the end, that will give me a total of 6 pieces. Far short of my 20 pieces by mid-January goal, but there's still one weekend left and so I might be able to make a few more pieces. At this point, I would be happy to have 10 pieces done by January 15th and, realistically, even that is a moving target.

I'm not going to beat myself up about this, however. I do feel like I'm making progress and I do feel the work coming along. I'm finding too that the pieces I manage to re-work I actually like better-there's something about them, something about the working with the wax and adding layer after layer that makes it more magical (somehow.) I can't explain it but somehow the pieces I've managed to re-work seem to come out with more depth and look better, more involved, than the pieces I like right off the bat.

It's been an adventure doing these pieces. If I do somehow manage to wind up with 20 pieces, I would probably be shocked, but that's not to say I won't end up with a new series and that it won't be a series I really like. I do really like this new work, the new "Santa Fe Desert" style work. It's pretty. There's something about it that's earthy and it does really reflect the lights in the sky at night over the desert, at least it has the same feeling to me. Even the pieces I've re-worked seem to capture that feeling.

I keep telling myself too that I will photograph them, the finished pieces and put them up here for you to see. And I do mean to do that, honestly, I do. I just haven't gotten around to it yet. One day soon, I promise, you will get to see my progress in the series. You'll get to see the progressions and the output from all that I am making these days in the studio. As with art projects in general, some days I feel like I am making great progress, while others? Eh, not so much. That's how it goes, I guess.

So, the good news is that this "Circumstantial Undertones" is one of only a few yarn pieces (pieces I've had to make to completely cover up a mishap from another series.) The bad news is that I've got only 3 pieces complete from my "Earthen/Dusk" series and am on my way towards having about 6 or so done-a far cry from the 20 I had wanted to be polishing up at this point in time. Would you call that progress? Maybe? Slow but steady, perhaps? Ah, we'll see soon enough, I'd guess.

Once I get to 20, or closer to 20 I should say, I'm going to really shop these around for a venue. Wish me luck on that one as well, for I am going to need it. There is still a lot to do-framing, photographing, website work, and then the marketing packets and stuff like that to see that the paintings find themselves in a happy new home.

Three down, 17 more (plus a lot of busy work) to go. Wish me luck with all of that.

Until next time...

Encaustic - Resources

2012-01-08T19:09:00.002-06:00

Artist Pigment Sticks, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I thought it might be a good idea to list some of the resources I use for my encaustic painting. Of those reading this, at least a few of you out there (*waves*) probably live in a town with few (if any) options for art supplies. Encaustics are even a bit trickier than generic "art supplies" as the supplies for encaustics are quite specific. We need particular things when we need them, for example, and often encaustic painters cannot substitute. Because of this, I do tend to rely upon mail order quite a bit, even though I am lucky enough to live in Austin where there are a few "true" art supply options. Places like Jerry's Art-a-rama make for easy (well easier) supply runs. Having said that, I prefer to have both a local source and a mail-order crack deal..I mean, um, "art supply house" (yeah, that's it. :~)

So, here are some options if you are getting into encaustics and want to happen upon some supplies.

I use Ampersand Art boards for supports (these are like what canvas is to "regular" painters.) You can get these at Dick Blick's. They are an Austin-based company that makes very nice art boards. I use mostly Encausticboards, though I have been known to use Hardboard (you can prime it yourself, using Encaustic primer, also available from Blick's.) I also use wooden painting panels, especially when working with things like plaster, since there is no reason to use a primed board if you are only going to plaster over it.

Speaking of plaster, I get my plaster supplies at Home Depot, along with hog hair brushes (these are the cheap "chip" style brushes they sell in the paint department.) I also get rubber gloves and most (if any) solvents there (since these cannot easily be shipped.)

I use mostly R&H handmade paints, using both the pigment sticks that you see here and the encaustic paints that you don't. I recommend getting an R&F color chart and using it to help you pick out the colors you want. Encaustic paint is expensive, clocking in at over $20 a bar (yes, it comes in "bars" like soap. And, um, drunks I guess.) It's worth the money though, so I like to not skimp on the quality of my paint.

For frames, I use pictureframes.com and I prefer the wooden floater frames. These are suitable for canvas and come in different depths to support different canvas sizes or different board sizes. I prefer to use cradled boards, and I tend to use and inch or inch and a half cradle for the board, because it makes it a bit easier to frame in the floater frames.

Daniel Smith also has a nice supply of artist brushes. You can use Hake brushes for encaustics and they sell those, along with the Ampersand art boards and some other supplies. I really like their in-house paint as well, so I tend to use their watercolor paints if I need to go that route.

For pastels, since I also dabble as a pastelist, I prefer to use Schmincke soft pastels and sometimes NuPastels. You can get Schmincke's from Dick Blick's or also Dakota Art Pastels. NuPastels are readily available from a bunch of outlets too-I've even seen them sold at Office Depot (of all places.)

Some of the other suppliers that I use include:
B&H photo-for many of my photo-related items, plus also framing options, printers, etc.
Daniel Smith-for paints, pigments, brushes, tins for printmaking, Ampersand art boards, watercolor paper, and R&F paints.
R&F Paints-for paints, primers, medium, and pigment sticks.
Dick Blick-for paints, Ampersand art boards, pigment sticks, brushes, and more.
Dakota Art Pastels-for pastels and papers
Amazon.com-has an increasing supply of encaustic tools and medium for sale.
Pictureframes.com-for canvas floater frames (suitable for Ampersand art boards as well) and matte board

I'll try to add to this list as I supplement my source of suppliers. In the meantime, I hope this helps those of you out there who are just getting started or who maybe don't have a good local source for supplies.

Until next time...

Little Houses

2012-01-07T22:27:00.001-06:00

Encaustic ghetto, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

You know how I love little houses so?

Just go back from a great exhibit of Will Klemm's work at Wally Workman Gallery in downtown Austin. He's like the king of little houses. Really. Crown and all. Makes me want to do lots and lots of little houses but then, I guess, I see little houses everywhere, don't I? Little houses here, little houses there. Everywhere little houses.

It's still a dream of mine to do an entire show called "Little Houses" and put together all of my little houses in one darned place. Then I too would have a lot of little houses, all in one place.

I guess maybe I should have been an architect, but so it goes.

Until next time...

Good Earth

2012-01-05T08:27:00.001-06:00

GoodEarth_3140, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

There have been times in my life when I stood up, looked around, and thought to myself (sometimes aloud even) "am I really seeing this? Am I really here?" It's kind of like a surreal moment, frozen in time and place, for me to remember from my lifetime. As we face the dawn of a new year, I sometimes stop and think about those moments. Did I really just see that? Was I standing right there? Did I actually live through that? Did I really go there? To that place? The world seems like an infinite universe yet so very small and contained all at the same time.

When I was young, I used to go to the shores of the sea in New York, where I grew up and gaze upon the water. I would wonder what it was like on the other shores of that water, that very same water. Would people in England or places afar, even places unknown to me then, gaze upon these very same waves? The water touches all and changes all. At that time, as a young girl, I never thought it possible, I never dreamed that I would one day happen upon those places where that water touched. I never thought I would leave that environment. I never imagined me stepping out of my own little bubble. Places like the Grand Canal of Venice, Abby Road in London, or this place, here, in Iceland? Yeah, these kind of places might as well never even existed for me, since they were just as real as characters trapped in the pages of a story or points in the universe we can only dream about but never really experience. They might as well not even exist, for they were so unreal to me, unreachable, unimaginable. Oh how times (and people!) change. I never imagined, not even in my wildest of wild dreams that I would one day get to see some of those places firsthand, get to explore that ground, get to experience that particular charm with my own two feet. Dr. Seuss has a great quote about "Oh! The places you'll go!" If I had only listened to him back then, but, alas, even I would not believe the places I would eventually get to go.

One thing that always dawns upon me, as I travel and explore, and am lucky enough to get to shoot, is that we have a good earth. We have a wonderful, marvelous earth with many sights, sounds, experiences and people on it. It's glorious. And that glory can be found in everyday things, like a quiet sunset, in divine things like the great cathedrals of Europe, and in natural things, like these humble icebergs in Iceland. Yes, I'd have to say that's one thing I've learned through travel. The earth, it would appear is really very good.

Today I took one of those "Which 100 of these [odd] places have you seen" type of tests. My answer was only about 20 or so of them. Yes, I still have a lot to see, a lot more. I've seen enough to know that there's a lot more out there, and I really want to see more of it. I hope I get to see more of it. But then, I remember too, how there are people in New York, people who lived near where I lived as a child who have never left that place. They gaze upon the water, as I did when I was a child, and maybe don't even bother to wonder what's on the other side of those waves. They'll never experience the Grand Canal of Venice or the suburbs of Mexico City or the White Cliffs of Dover. They think Atlantic City is maybe even a bit far away. I have to say that, as compared to those people, why I feel quite lucky. I'm lucky and blessed to know the travel that I have enjoyed, to have seen the places that I have seen already, even if tomorrow fails to bring more opportunities for travel to points afar.

We have a good earth, indeed we do. I intend to see as much of it as I possibly can. I love to travel, yes, as part of my job is to help bring those places to you, even if you are one of those people who never stop and think about what's on the other side of that sea, where those waves eventually wash ashore yet again. Even if you never leave your living room, I hope to instill upon you the smallest of notions-the notion that the earth is good, it's really very good.

It's a very good earth, that it is. I hope you'll agree with me about that. It's really a very good earth, even if we are only a small part of it.

Until next time...

Allow Me to Introduce Daffy Duck-berg

2012-01-03T08:13:00.001-06:00

DaffyDuckBerg_2993, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

As I was processing my iceberg shots, I kept thinking about how this crazy-looking iceberg really resembles (to me anyway) Daffy Duck. I kept thinking, "Man, that thing looks like Daffy Duck." It's one of those things, I suppose not everybody will see it that way-art is, after all, in the eye of the beholder, right? And so sometimes too is nature, but, man Daffy Duck, I swear. I can see him now too. He's sitting right there! I mean, like can't you notice him too? He's got a beak and eyes and the lot of it.

When I look at this shot for a long time, I feel like one of those people who keep insisting they see bunnies in clouds.

The other day, I was riding along a country road near my home when I noticed that this house I had been watching them build is finally finished. It's an interesting house-well, at least interesting to me. It kind of looks like an adobe style house, very Santa Fe-ish, which is unusual for these parts. Our houses don't really look like that. Anyway, it's some kind of a custom (think "high end" here too) house that took them months to build. I watched them do it too, slowly, little by little. First it was clearing the land, then framing the place, then they seemed to take ages to finish it out, to put all of the little details on it. I can tell by looking at it the family who owns it are car buffs, as the home also has a large garage attached to the back of it-probably room for about six (or more!) cars here. It's kind of a "spread" more than a house, actually, but I watched them build it, step by step, painstakingly by painstakingly placed brick-by-brick, up it went. Now it's done. Complete for all the world to see, come take a look at, and admire.

The other day, I was driving past it, I noticed they had placed a small sign in front of it, out near the curb. Oh, this was going to be exciting. Was it to be some kind of silly, "yard of the month!" in some unimportant home owner's association? Perhaps it has won some kind of architectural award, I mean, after all, I love the house, I'm sure somebody else does too, right? It's sure to win some kind of award, looking the way it does. Not many Santa Fe-ish style houses in these parts and all, right? Must be award-winning custom house Santa Fe-ish style spread straight out of "Home and Garden" magazine, right? Right? Can you already smell the architectural equivalent of a golden globe award sitting, just sitting, on that mantel piece? Oh, this is going to be good. I slowed down so that I could read the sign, so that I could take it all in, full blast.

The sign said, "Not a Gas Station."

Ok, so today we have established that I (sometimes) have questionable taste (perhaps, both in homes and icebergs.) Yeah, yeah, so pick on me already, I can't help it. As Lady Gaga would say, "Baby, I was born this way!" (And what, pray tell, have you done with your life, seeing as you have such great taste and all? Go ahead, I'm waiting. Yeah, I thought you couldn't come up with anything either.) Ppppft. Not a gas station....go figure. (And, yes, I really do see Daffy Duck in this Daffy Duck-berg.)

That's all folks! (Oh come on, you knew I was going to say it, didn't you?)

Until next time...

Upcoming Shows

2012-01-02T08:38:00.001-06:00

GlowingPinkLines_5605, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I hope everybody had a safe and happy new year. For me, the new year has started with a flurry of show activity. For starters, yesterday I found out that I will have some work included in the upcoming 2012 People's Gallery in Austin City Hall. Next up on my list though, I'm headed out today to drop off some artwork at the encaustic show to be held at Artspace in Round Rock, Texas. More details on this to follow. I'll also have work up at the A. Smith Gallery in Johnson City as part of the "Winter" show that's soon to open there as well.

Gosh, I could not be more busier if I tried. 2012 is shaping up to be a banner year and I look forward to this flurry of show activity to ring in the new year.

I will also try to sneak away in the studio today and hope to have more pictures of more encaustic work as I can post them.

Until next time...

Best Shot of 2011

2011-12-30T08:35:00.001-06:00

Red Ironing Area, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

According to Flickr, this was my best image of 2011, at least it was my most popular, ranking at a hefty number 13 on my "Popular" count, which is really just Flickr's "special sauce" although it's still (somewhat) reliable I suppose. It was uploaded on March 31 and first posted to this blog about that time, although it was also posted a few other places, most notably it made the front page of Utata, an on-line journal which I love and support.

The shot itself was taken at one of my favorite places to photograph. It was shot on location in Santa Fe, New Mexico at a place called "Jackalope" which is a fantastic environment for great photos. It's a photo-friendly place with lots of pottery, furniture, odd doors, bric-a-brac and the like. I have shot many things at Jackalope and it's one of those places I will return to time and again for some great shots, not to mention some great shopping. (They still have this really cool blue bench I want to get for the front of my door, but not sure how I would manage to get it back from Santa Fe, seeing as I usually fly there. Hmmm. Points to ponder.)

I plan to post my yearly recap of 2011 soon enough. Lately anyway, I've been thinking a lot about the year that was and the year that's coming up. Which directions I want to go in, which paths I want to take. It's been a time of transition in so many ways but I kind of like to think of it more like a time of transformation rather than transition. At least I'm really looking forward to seeing what things will grow into, rather than over-analyzing where they have been. Maybe that's why I've been so reluctant to post any 2011 "wrap up" type of material. I'm too busy looking ahead and thinking about what's in store for next year. I've also been working on a lot of new stuff, cranking out work about as quickly as I can given the constraints I have before me.

We'll see what 2012 brings soon enough, I suppose, seeing as it starts on Sunday. Wow! Where did the year go? Time to make plans, get setup for more work going out, do lots more stuff, and get 2012 ready to roll, isn't it? Oh, wish me luck with that, for I am going to need all of the help I can get.

I hope 2011 brought you some memorable shots and some great photography and art in your lives as well. Here's looking at 2012 with bright spirits and best intentions.

Happy soon to be new year, everybody!

Until next time...

Encaustic - Introduction

2011-12-29T12:27:00.001-06:00

WaxDetail_5628, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

In the process of updated my gallery website, HouseOfCarol.com, I decided to add some information to the site about encaustic and the art of encaustic painting. Since I've been doing a lot of encaustic work recently, I thought it might be a good idea to update the gallery website a bit with some information about the process and, since I was updating that website with some new information, I thought it might be a good idea too if I could share some of that material here as well.

Here is more information about encaustic for the curious.

Encaustic painting is both a contemporary form of artistic expression and an antique process for painting. Encaustic paintings date back to the 1st century-the technique was used in the Fayum mummy portraits in ancient Egypt circa 100-300 AD and more recently by contemporary American artist Jasper Johns.

Encaustic paintings are generally made by using a mixture of beeswax, damar resin and heat as a medium and typically some type of pigment for coloring. Often artist pigments are used, but other items such as coffee, tea, dirt, or any item containing a coloring can be used to provide the desired hue. Encaustics are both a type of paint medium and a technique, with the technique being heating the wax to a melted state and applying it to a support, ensuring each layer is fused with heat of some kind. The surface is manipulated with tools such as irons, hot air guns, metal spatulas, or other tools to provide the desired appearance of the finished painting.

While this may provide you with the "textbook" definition of encaustics, as a practicing encaustic artist, I like to think of encaustics a bit differently. For starters, there are almost as many encaustic techniques as there are painters working with encaustics-every artist I have worked with or met seems to find their own unique way of working with wax. There really is no "right" or "wrong" way to do it-it's more like a "jump right in and give it a go" type of painting style.

Encaustics too are really a material study and an excuse for artists to make their own paint. Being very "hands on" the artist gets lost working with layers, embedding objects, working with color, texture, and fusion. There is a simple rhythm to working with encaustics, the melting, the fusing, the working of the materials, it's almost hypnotic in nature and I find it very relaxing but also sort of a playground for artistic experimentation. There are always new things to try, new techniques to learn and every day in the studio brings new surprises. Working with different types of heat sources, everything from a heat gun to a blow torch, working with different brushes, different wax media, various pigments, a host of found objects, and layer after layer of opaque textural surfaces really lends an element of surprise to each piece. It's a forgiving medium, yes, but I like to think that each and every encaustic piece is really some kind of "happy accident" as results often do vary when you paint with a blow torch. That's all really part of the fun of working with the medium though, as painting with encaustics can be more of an adventure and less an academic study in material sciences.

I get asked to demo and speak about encaustics frequently as it is a lesser-known and not as practiced media. I like to explain to people at these demos and talks that encaustics are not the media for you if you are looking for absolute control and are very fussy about having a strict outcome for your artwork. On the other hand, if you are flexible and have a sense of adventure about your painting, you just might find working with encaustics to be a liberating, fun, sometimes challenging but always wondrous experience. If you're the sort of artist who likes to dabble, play, experiment and try new things, encaustics must just be a wonderful media for you.

Over the course of painting and exhibiting encaustics, I have found too that many patrons either immediately fall in love with the look of the finished wax pieces or just completely fail to understand the appeal of encaustic arts at all. Encaustic paintings are a bit like the "Babe Ruth" of the art world-you will either immediately fall in love and change the way you see things or you will just relegate to the "I don't get it" pile in the back of your mind.

Shown in this image is a close-up detail of a recently completed encaustic piece from my studio work earlier this year. In this detail, you can see the colors and layers of wax that have been applied to give the finished piece it's final appearance. This is a small detail (maybe about 1 or 2 inches square) from an 18 inch by 24 inch painted panel.

I look forward to posting more encaustic pieces and sharing more about the process here in the future.

Until next time...

Earthen/Dusk - Encaustic on Panel

2011-12-27T18:58:00.001-06:00

DesertHill_5613, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Just got finished with a busy studio day today. Wonderfully sunny day today here in Austin and I spent most of the afternoon in studio working and, when I wasn't do that, I was dodging a low-flying bumble bee that kept gunning for my head.

Remember how the other day I commented about mistakes and mistake-fixing in the studio? About how I had spent the entire day (the other day) fixing up prior "studio mistakes?" Well, today was what I like to call "giant project day."

What I mean by that is that, today I set out to just sort of knock out a bunch of paintings, and, did I do that? Nope. What did I do instead? Start one particular painting that can only be described (really) as a "giant project." What do I mean by a "giant project?" Well, it's one of those paintings that I'm going to be working on for a while. A long while. Like sometime in the year 2014 it might get finished, but only if I sweat a lot, really buckle-down and get to it. I'm going to work, work, work on this piece and it might still never get finished but I will be eternally hopefully that, one day, as soon as I get around to it, I'm sure as shooting going to finish *that* piece. Yeah, it's one of those.

I truly believe that all artists have paintings like this. We go into studio, carve out some sort of "half-baked idea," maybe even have some general direction we want to go with the work and we start working. But then, something happens. Something happens as we work away, something that makes us realize this isn't going to be finished anytime soon now but also that this piece is somewhat "special" in some small way and, as such, it deserves the added attention. It's not just added attention, no, we fully comprehend the idea that the piece is going to turn into some great project, some big "chunk" of our lives are to be devoted to it, and it's going to fully consume us until we complete it, though we recognize this won't happen anytime soon. The piece has spoken and who are we, mere mortals, to disagree with the universe, the cosmos or, heck, even the great pumpkin. (We are doomed.)

Today was that sort of a day for me-I made that kind of a piece. It didn't start out that way, but it sure ended up that way.

For starters, I got up early, went to the bank, grocery store, and Home Depot to get more plaster supplies (it's amazing how much plaster a girl can blow through when she is painting like this, trust me on that one.) Then I had something to eat and headed into the studio.

From a previous studio session, I had plastered up an 18x18 inch board and left it to dry, so this was sitting there, waiting for me. Instead of doing more of the type of work you see pictured here (this is pigment stick on panel) I wanted to do the plaster technique today for a couple of reasons-mostly because I wanted to work a bit smaller today (this "Desert Hill" is 18x24 while the plaster series is 18x18) but also because I was out of the 18x24 primed panels, so I opted instead to use the plastered panels I had done up last time I was out in the studio. No worries, I do this often and it makes for interesting painting, as I get to mix things up a bit.

So, I looked at the plastered panel and thought, "Hmm. What color do I want to do this?" I had some silver paint on the palette (encaustics are difficult to do with so many colors at a time because the palette needs to be heated and so there is limited space for a multitude of colors.) I settled on a purple-ish color (since that goes well with the silver I had already melted) and thought, "Oh! I have some pigment sticks that I got pretty cheaply and those were some bright colors." Sure enough, I had purchased a purple pigment stick.

Next up, I got the pressing urge to draw a house, the way I always do, so I thought that, since I was using the pigment sticks and I can kind of "draw" with them (well sort of) I would try to draw an abstract house-ish like drawing and then wax on top of it. No worries, as again this is not something new. So I started to draw the house with the purple color and then I decided I would make a little "village" and so I grabbed a red-ish color and a blue (a beautiful bright blue actually-wow!) and then I wanted an earth to my, well, "earth" so I made that brown and then I had to fill in the sky so I made that sort of blue-ish but the blue color from the house was not quite the right color blue for the sky (it was more like electric blue!) so instead I tinted, toned, and shaded that with some dark grey and some white in places. Before I knew it, I had myself a cute little "village" scene and, well it's really quite pretty. (I shot it with my iPhone so maybe I will be able to show it to you at some point.)

Anyway, now that the little "village" was done, I have to seal it with the encaustic medium. I started to do that, but then found out that I had used so much pigment stick that it "smudged" and wound up making my wax turn red (well, actually the "earth" color in my "village.") With some gloves on, I worked the pigments from the pigment sticks around and made a sort of hot mess, but I rather like it. The pigments from the pigment stick hold together even if you smudge them around and sort of "finger paint" with them, not to mention the plaster makes little bumps and groves that either prevent the pigments from going in there (wind up looking like white cracks) or collect the pigments (wind up looking like shadows since they are spots with darker pigments than other areas of the surface-like dark crevices really.)

The short version is that the entire thing wound up with a lot of pigment on it and it made a mess of my hot palette painting area.

One of the problems I have as an artist is that I hate to paint with brushes. I know that probably sounds silly but I actually prefer (very much so) to either paint with my hands or to use a knife or a trowel like the way they usually apply plaster or stucco. If none of those options are available, then and only then will I turn to using a brush. Lastly, if the brush thing doesn't work out, I use spray paint. I really hate spray paint though, as I don't feel like I have my "hand" in the work at all; I feel very disconnected. Finger painting is quite the opposite of that for me, as I actually like to smudge and smear around the paint, working it with my hands. Once I find a brush I rather like too, I tend to stick with it so I have collected many brushes but only (typically) paint with a few of the ones I favor.

I recognize though that this practice of finger painting can be quite toxic when using things like pigment sticks as they are petroleum based and also the proper artist pigments are none too healthy to inhale too much of in the studio. Nevertheless, I much prefer to work with my hands, so I usually done a pair of rubber gloves and work over the pieces with my fingers anyway, taking frequent breaks to get away from the fumes.

For most of my studio time today, there was a bee buzzing around my wax station, looking to check out the melting beeswax. Usually doing encaustics attracts bees-no real surprise here, they are drawn to the smell of the melting beeswax, but I've always found (and been told that) they come around a bit to sort of "check out" the "new home" but then also take off once they do so and realize it is not their (own personal) humble abode. I'm told this is sort of similar to humans-the way we kind of maybe "check out new condos" that are being built near where we live-we're inherently nosy creatures and want to be "up" on what's happening but, at the end of the day, don't really care all that much. Bees, I'm told, are no different from this. They usually come around, at least one lone one does, to check out the wax but then go away once they have suitably poked their "bees knees" into it and determined that it's just "low rent" housing, not suitable for their queen. Meh, off they go, flying into the sunset and the sweet nectar of the flowers they prefer.

Today though brought about a different type of bee. This particular fellow was quite determined to get a closer look at my "condos" of beeswax so I kept being dive bombed and had to keep dodging around to avoid being stung. I was buzzed quite frequently while working and this made it difficult to work, made it harder to rub the messy pigments all over the place, trying to avoid the cracks in the plaster and also to avoid the bee gunning for my head.

The end result is a piece that is not finished yet, rather it's got wax about the bottom "earthen" part of it and will have to be waxed more carefully, color by color, to avoid the pigments from "running" into the wax (or into each other.) Because of this, I will have to wax each color separately, fuse it gently with my heat gun, and then let it cool before moving onto the next color. All of that plus I've got to just hope the bee keeps his distance and is none too interested in my head. (Wish me luck here, as I am going to need it.)

Anyway, that piece is sitting on my workbench, awaiting me to finish it, which I hope to do at some point in the future. (You can hold me to it.) Tonight, I will be doing some paperwork and web-related items after photographing some of my recent studio output. Lately anyway, it feels like I have been working so much in the studio that I am starting to feel like some kind of "painting robot" and I don't have a life outside of it all. At least, it seems that way to me-lots of studio time and work just pouring out, although not always what I had intended to produce. All of this productivity has me wanting to do even more but I still feel the pressure of this higher output in my studio. As I was photographing the work, I realized today that I didn't even leave enough time to shoot it all, since there is so much new work awaiting me to photograph it and put it up on the web, not to mention the paperwork and such. Catching up with that is next up for me to do.

This particular piece "Desert Hill" is from a series I was hoping to produce this winter. I was hoping for twenty individual panels that I like, each representing a view of the desert areas outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico at dusk or sunset time. I guess maybe I was too ambitious, as I was hoping to be able to sort of knock out twenty of these over winter holiday. So far anyway, I have three of them that I am happy with, including the one pictured here, called "Desert Hill." My plan of producing twenty is going to take a bit longer than I had originally intended.

Normally, I try not to beat myself up about these things but lately anyway it seems like I am anxious to get these pieces photographed, framed, and out the door. I really could envision a wonderful 1-person show of this work. Could you see maybe twenty of these in wonderful wooden frames, hanging in a gallery somewhere? Honestly, I would love to be able to pull this off, but I can hardly manage avoiding the bee that's invaded my studio, not to mention I'm almost out of primed boards and I keep experimenting with plaster, yarn, and other things. I really have to try to stay focused and produce a devoted output, to not be so reactive to shows buzzing around me, much like the bee that has taken up residence in my studio.

In the new year, I will have to work hard, not only at painting more/better/faster but on staying focused on my goals, otherwise my 1-person encaustic show of "Earthen/Dusk" will be but a pipe dream and this will put a serious damper on my plans for next year.

Enough rambling for today, my dreaded paperwork awaits!

Until next time...

A Tale of Two Christmases

2011-12-26T22:10:00.001-06:00

, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Let me tell you a tale about two different Christmases. Each Christmas happened this year and each is very special in its own way. Allow me to explain.

This weekend, on Friday, I believe, Nike released the newest and latest version of their ever so popular "Air Jordan" athletic shoes. These "Air Jordans" created such a frenzy that there were mobs and violence in some places, as frantic "Black Friday" shoppers tried to purchase a pair of the shoes. From a recent article in the Wall Street Journal, here are some of the reports on the chaos:

* In suburban Seattle, police used pepper spray on about 20 customers who started fighting at the Westfield Southcenter mall. An 18 year old man was arrested after he punched an officer.
* A man was stabbed when a brawl broke out between several people waiting in line at a Jersey City, New Jersey mall to buy the new shoes, authorities said. The 20-year-old man was expected to recover from his injuries.
* In Richmond, California, police say crowds waiting to buy the Air Jordan 11 Retro Concords at the Hilltop Mall were turned away after a gunshot rang out around 7 a.m.
* In Taylor, Michigan, about 100 people forced their way into a shopping center around 5:30 a.m., damaging decorations and overturning benches. Police say a 21-year-old man was arrested.
* In Lithonia, Georgia, at least four people were apparently arrested after customers broke down a door at a store selling the shoes. DeKalb County police said up to 20 squad cars responded.

Meanwhile, in Austin, Texas, in the morning hours of December 25th, Alan Graham, CEO of nonprofit Mobile Loaves and Fishes hit the streets of Austin in his food truck, distributing hot meals, clean clothing, and hygiene products to those in need. The news reported that, "Instead of opening presents under the tree, dozens of Austin families chose to give back on Christmas day." The Christmas morning route wrapped up around 10:00 a.m. with breakfast at IHOP, a Christmas tradition for the folks who volunteer with Mobile Loaves and Fishes.

Now, I can't speak for you, but I know for certain which Christmas I would have preferred to be a part of this year.

From the website for Mobile Loaves and Fishes: Our mission is to provide uncompromising love and hospitality to our brothers and sisters in need. We do this by empowering a league of volunteers in providing food, clothing, and promoting dignity to our homeless brothers and sisters in need. We accomplish this mission through the creation of relationships that cultivate a community life of stability and purpose.

MEALS SERVED: 2,840,492
TOTAL VOLUNTEERS: 16,368

This Christmas season, you have a choice. You can either be a part (maybe only a small part) of the first Christmas. Even if you don't get Air Jordans for yourself or your loved ones, you can go and help trample people at the mall or opt to be a part of the commercialism that the holiday has become, or you can opt to participate in "Christmas Number 2" and actually remember the spirit of the season. Now, I'm sure there are those out there who feel the pressing need to get themselves a new pair of Air Jordans because, after all, they have to, they just have to "fit in." But, maybe those people should really be asking themselves if, instead of "fitting in" with the "Air Jordan" crowd, maybe they should try "fitting in" with the 16,368 volunteers who actually made a difference in somebody's life this holiday season.

In case you need any additional persuasion, one of the people fed by the Mobile Loaves and Fishes food truck was a man who identified himself as "Shorty." Also from the website: Shorty, a homeless man, said he’s very appreciative of the service and, while this holiday season is bright, that has not always been the case.

"There's been times when I felt so bad I didn't care about the holidays anymore," Shorty said. "It's pretty much only one time out of the year that I can pretty much celebrate.”

Those Air Jordan's cost $180 a pair. I wonder how many homeless people the good folks over at Mobile Loaves and Fishes could feed with that kind of money, don't you? This holiday season, I'm very happy to hear that somebody gets it. It's a sign, albeit a small sign, that things are moving in the right direction. Maybe next Christmas, we can all strive to avoid the shopping malls completely and instead opt to hang with the Mobile Loaves and Fishes crowd.

They really are the coolest kids in town and, no, they don't need any special shoes to prove it.

Until next time...

Merry Christmas Everybody

2011-12-24T19:41:00.001-06:00

IceCave_2841, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

It's raining today in River City, making it a bit harder for Santa to get down our chimney pipes, but at least we don't have bitter cold and snow for poor ole jolly Saint Nick. I've readied the milk and cookies and quieted Chase as best I can (so he does not bark, well too much at the gift-bearing Santa.) Now we're together, quietly waiting for him to come along and about to head in to curl up for the evening with a good book.

I was hoping to get some studio time in today, but it was rainy and damp pretty much all day, so instead I watched some TV and unpacked some supplies, restocking the studio, moving things around a bit, and got setup for the next batch of studio work to come along. I've really been quite prolific in the studio lately, sometimes anyway it's hard to remember that, as I always feel I could be (and should be) doing more, more more. Paintings are coming though, and I'm starting to get happier and happier with the outcome. Liking things more and more, making fewer mistakes, learning to cover up mistakes, and just having fun working with the materials-that's what it's really all about for me now, although, at some point, this is going to turn into a nightmare of sorts, as the dreaded marketing will begin. Oh, I'm so not looking forward to that bit of it. For now though, it's fun in the studio with lots of painting, lots of re-working, churning out work, and trying to keep my studio well-stocked. I've run low on plaster so I'll be headed to get that on Monday plus I've just ordered more boards and oil sticks I can use for drawing and underpainting. As those arrive by carrier, I'll be able to turn around and do it all over again.

Looking over my "to do" list is making me depressed, as there is still a lot of items I had wanted to complete this holiday and have not yet gotten around to doing, but I am enjoying some quiet "down" time, and it's giving me a bit of a much-needed battery recharge of sorts.

Tomorrow, I'm going to head over to have dinner with the folks. Mom is cooking a nice roasted chicken in the oven with all of the trimmings-mashed potatoes, gravy, veggies, and a nice salad, and I'll hopefully get to play with Chase and the dogs in the late autumn leaves some, weather permitting, that is. He loves to run and play in the yard but I don't like to leave him out when it's raining on account of his curls, muddy paws, and all. (We'll see if the rain comes tomorrow again or if skies are a bit more clear and suitable for dog play in the yard.)

I hope you all have a wonderful happy holiday with friends, family, and good food. I promise to post some studio output as soon as I can and to continue painting as much as possible while I'm home and the studio beckons. Until then, please have a wonderful holiday and please enjoy your time off (if you're lucky enough to get some) this holiday season.

Until next time...

Studio Day Today - Art and Mistakes

2011-12-23T19:18:00.001-06:00

IceFormStriped_2756, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Mistakes happen and today was no exception. For me, today was, "fix my mistakes" day in the studio. Allow me to explain.

Encaustics, you see, are a bit tricky to do. I'm going to come out right and say it, they're hard. I mean, they aren't "hard" like rocket science is hard but, you know, if you really want the melted molten wax to flow to *just* the right place, if you really have something in your head that you are totally trying to "match," well, encaustics are (or they can be) downright impossible. Encaustics are difficult to get to turn out exactly the way you want them too. I tend to view each encaustic piece as a sort of "happy accident." I work with a color palette, yes, and that does give me some control, but "some" is the key word here. Actually, "little" might be a better choice of words for it. Encaustics can be hard to control and, let's face it, they are an art form probably not best suited for the totally "anal retentive" of you out there maybe reading this. Let me put it to you this way: if you are a control freak, don't take up painting with wax. Better stick to knitting if you know what's good for you. But me? Yes, I almost enjoy these "happy accidents" (do notice, please, that I said, "almost" there. Almost as in, not always.)

So, what's a girl to do?

As I paint, I gather my mistakes. I save them off and treat them with equal respect as I do my "finished pieces," you know, the ones that I like. I save them all and I decided later (after I have had time to think about it) which pieces I want to re-work and which pieces I'm going to just give up on. So far, anyway, I've "given up" on only a few but re-worked many, very many in fact. That's part of the process. I don't beat myself up about this. I'm a beginner, and I've allowed myself time to make mistakes. Just today, in fact, my mother told me, "you learn from your mistakes." Indeed, you do or you should try to anyway. Mistakes can be viewed as learning experiences. Like a teacher in a jar, of sorts.

So, today I had this pile, this ever-growing pile of mistakes and I thought that, well I felt like anyway, re-working some of these, and that's just what I did. I went out into the studio and re-worked some of my prior "fiasco's."

I had this one piece. It was sort of red mixed with purple and it had some brown in it. Yes, I know, these are colors that don't really work well together. So, originally, I thought, "I know! I'll add yellow!" Oh, that was a mistake, let me tell you, a BIG mistake. It wound up looking like a victim (loser actually) at a paint-ball camp. It was horrible, a horrible, horrible, mistake. Think "clown vomit" and you are kind of about half way there. Oh, what was I to do?

Some of the "tricks" I use to cover up my mistakes in encaustics included putting yarn on them (yarn looks really good stuck on top of encaustics and, let's face it, I've made so many mistakes now that I do believe I have an entire "yarn" series in the works. Glory be! Who knew that, as it turns out, simple yarn is capable of covering up a multitude of artistic "sins.") I also use opaque white paint to add an extra thick "top coat" of paint and wax. This creates a nice soft "top layer" like and also covers up a multitude of "sins" as it were.

So, there you have it. This was going to be a piece of cake. Piece of cake, I tell you! I was going to take the ugly paint-ball victim, yarn it up, maybe throw some white on top and call it a day. Yeah, go me! This was so going to work, I could hardly wait to try it.

Oh the horror!

For starers, the yarn looked even worse. It just looked like yarn atop a hot mess (come to think of it, that might be a good name for this, my new series. Hmm. Then again, maybe not.) Then the white paint made it look even worse. It looked like white paint floating atop yarn stuck onto the top of a hot mess. Oh, I was falling fast, let me tell you. You ever get that horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach? Yeah, I was so there, I was so all over that one.

I kept putting the piece aside, working on something else, going back to it, laughing at myself for thinking I could fix it, wondering how much wax I was going to waste trying to fix it, scratching my head, laughing again, thinking it was hopeless...you get the idea. This was like a downward spiral made entirely out of "clown vomit," yarn and white paint. Mistake after mistake, entombed in layers of wax. I had created a disaster! I couldn't make something this bad if I had set out to do just that. This thing had "train wreck" written all over it. It was just abominable, but I was not going to give up.

I just kept layering and layering the wax and the paint and working it, over and over. Working with the layers of the wax, fusing, adding more wax. I was determined to make something of this hot mess. My "clown vomit" was going to be fixed, fixed, I tell you, fixed. Fixed! It had to be, it just had to be fixed. Finally, after much trial and error (ahem, read "more much error than trial!") I *finally* got something I sort of liked. It finally looks like something half presentable if, you know, if you squint just the right way. Phew! About time! (Don't you think?) Only took me 20 layers of wax, tons of yarn, and lots of bad luck getting there, didn't it?

Of course, now the damn thing weighs about 20 pounds. It's a 20 pound painting made with "clown vomit," yarn, tons of white paint, and great big gobs of melted wax. Hey, I bet not many of your friends have one of *those* right? I mean, not too many anyway. Well, maybe not unless they know me and have already purchased a wonderful encaustic from my, ahem, "hot new yarn series" that is. (*Grins.*)

The point I'm trying to make here, the reason I'm telling you all of this is that today was "mistake" day in the studio. Mistakes are part of art too. We're all human and we all make them. Sometimes, if you're lucky, your mistakes can turn into your most beloved pieces. There's now something about this piece, something special about it. I will always remember fondly working it, working it over, re-working it, thinking, "Ha! That will never work!" only to prove myself, in the end, wrong about that. Nothing makes me happier than being wrong here too. Nothing makes me happier than seeing my mistakes, seeing them play out before your eyes because that's the only way you will see me grow. I've enjoyed my mistake, both making it and fixing it. Ok, so maybe it's not the best piece I have ever done, maybe it's not the most rewarding, but, at this point, I have to admit, it has a special place in my heart.

The piece has so many layers, each layer representing a different "mistake" I made trying to fix it. I've even decided to name this piece, on account of the "mistakes" and the process by which it came about. I'm going to call it "Circumstantial Undertones." Circumstantial because it is just layer after layer of mistake and "undertones" because, in the end, that's what it looks like. Lots and lots of tones and undertones all fused together.

At some point, I'll post an image of my new "Circumstantial Undertones" piece and you too can judge for yourself, if you think it was a good idea for me to work and re-work the piece. I have to say I do think it was worth it, at least I had fun doing it. I enjoyed making it. I enjoyed making all of the mistakes that I made in the process of creating it. Encaustics are new and fun for me and this, these mistakes, they are part of the process too. Frustrating at times, yes, but mistakes are there too, for all of us to enjoy.

So, for today anyway, I'm embracing my newly found "mistakes" as being a necessary part of my artistic development. Art and mistakes: two great tastes that taste great together.

Until next time...

Carol Scrooge on the Subject of Holiday Greetings, Here's Some Ice to keep you Cold

2011-12-22T07:32:00.001-06:00

JaggedIceWalls_2365, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I'm sorry to keep posting these shots of ice, I'm sure you must be bored with them by now, but I just love the shapes and colors these frozen landscapes form over time. It's like an icy cold playground up there and I just can't keep from looking at it. It's mesmerizing. I just keep thinking about how I want to draw it. (I believe that icebergs and ice like this would make for some great drawings and, I swear, at some point, I will do these in pastels to see if I can one day paint them as well.)

Today's topic brings me to something I both love and dread: the holiday greeting.

Now, I don't know about you, but, this year anyway, I have been inundated with holiday greetings. At least, my email box has been overflowing with them from sometime, starting in like maybe November. And, I know they mean well, they *all* mean well, each and every one of them. Many of them are from businesses I know and even trust. Dick Blick's sent me a nice holiday greeting card, as did the folks I traveled with up in Iceland (it was really a treat to see an Icelandic Santa, let me tell you. Did you know there are 13 of them and each is kind of skinny and wears cool-looking pointy boots? Wow! Neither did I.) But, holiday greetings from places like Office Depot and Best Buy? Really? Like I'm supposed to "Jingle Bell" my way through a new stapler for my desk or a new DVD player that I don't really need? Oh please, save me from this holiday madness!

As artists, we need to think about this too. I mean, we send out holiday greetings, we all send out holiday greetings, right? But, there are so many of them, and so many people get lost in all of the holiday greetings. So, let me be the first one (maybe?) to come right out and say it. If you're going to do a holiday greeting at all, as an artist, you owe it to yourself to either make the best darn holiday greeting you can make or maybe consider not making one at all.

I know this might be a bit controversial. I'm sure many of you will say, "but I like to send out holiday greetings!" not to mention it's a great way to "get my brand out!" (whatever that means.) The problem is, with all of the greetings going around, yours is going to get lost in the mix. Many of them don't look special, don't offer anything, and are from people I don't really know. (I hardly shop at Staple's for example, yet I have gotten no less than 3 holiday greetings from them this year.) Trust me when I say this, a holiday greeting is going to do more harm them good if you send it to somebody you hardly know, it doesn't look all that great, or it's completely impersonal.

As artists, we make handmade items. Even photographers, yes you too, make things by hand. Art is personal. That's a large factor in the equation. If you start churning out holiday greetings that aren't personal (Staple's anyone?) and you start sending them en mass to everyone you might happen to have met this year, well, I hate to break the news to you, but you're really not helping out your art career. Besides, wouldn't your time be better spent in the studio painting more? Or helping out in your local community where needs are more immediate? (Even cooking up some home cheer this holiday season would be a better use of your time, don't you think? Have you had a snowball fight with the kids yet? Wouldn't that be more fun as well?)

So, this year, as the holiday season rolls into full force, I would offer up some suggestions. Rather than spending hours twiddling with Photoshop to craft just the right holiday "virtual tree" to email to 500 people you don't really know, why not go down to your local homeless shelter and volunteer? Visit a home for the elderly in your area or help out at a local school. Share you artwork on a more personal basis instead. It will do you, your community, and the world a lot more good.

I love getting holiday greetings from artists that I know, I really do. And I'm not trying to get all scrooge on you here, I really love the holiday season too. But there are just too many artists and photographers out there who think they can just sort of "slack off" in the social department and then go overboard around the holiday season to make up for it. Not to mention there are a lot of artists and photographers who see all of these holiday greetings and think to themselves, "Man! This looks great. *I* really want to send out a holiday greeting and have it be the BEST one ever..." only to go overboard trying to "outdo" the artist next door. Is that really keeping in the holiday spirit? Is that really furthering your artistic career? (Did you even both to stop and ask that question before you jumped headfirst into a giant pile of red and green construction paper and silver glue glitter? Mmm. Didn't think so.)

So, before you send out your 12th holiday greeting this year, before you post your best over Photoshopped shots of your fabulous Christmas tree or show me your happy children in fake poses baking cookies (what kids bake coolies these days? Come on, get real!) I'd encourage you to stop and ask yourself, "is this really keeping within the holiday tradition? Is this celebrating the holiday season the way it was intended?" If you're really just trying to showoff, perhaps you can do that another time, like say in March, and leave us to our already stuffed email inboxes this holiday season.

On the other hand, if you're somebody I know (*waves*) and are genuinely sending me best wishes this holiday season, I more than welcome your crooked hand-held photo of your Christmas tree or your non-Photoshopped image of your son making a funny face wearing a holiday hat because, to me anyway, that's what the holidays are really all about and those images? Yeah, those images are truly beautiful to me, each and every one of them.

So there you have it. Carol Scrooge on the subject of holiday greetings. Bah Humbug! Pass the eggnog, please.

Until next time...

What's in a name?

2011-12-20T08:24:00.001-06:00

Earthen Sunset, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I'm thinking now for these...for this series of encaustic panels...to call them Earthen/Dusk.

What do you think Internets? You like?

Really having a hard time coming up with a name but it'll come to me and just "click" at some point. More panels to come (this one a smaller one-the series is larger now-18x24 sized panels and many more of them-I'm shooting for 20 or so of these before I stop.)

Wish me luck with this new project and please do keep the suggestions for names coming my way.

Until next time...

Reaching for the Stairs - Of Art and Comfort

2011-12-19T08:02:00.001-06:00

InteriorView_0098, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Sometimes, when you make art, you have to just "go for it." Actually, I hear this a lot, but I'm not fully convinced it's 100% true all of the time. Allow me to explain.

There are those who feel that if an artist is not taking risks, that artist is not being "true." If an artist isn't stretching boundaries, pushing limits, working outside of their comfort zone, then they really aren't "growing" as an artist. While I think this is true to some extent, there is also something to be said for just executing. That is to say, or maybe more accurately to *ask* do we really have to be pushing limits each and every day? What's wrong with pushing limits once and then working to, say, actually *move* that limit, push that line, to its new location?

What I mean by that is, isn't it easy for a painter or photographer to always do something "shocking" and wild? Wouldn't it be better, or equally "artistic" I should say, for that same painter or photographer to push the boundaries once and then work to create a body of work about that subject matter? To, you know, maybe push the boundaries and then languish there a little bit, maybe just a little bit, to see what else is in the neighborhood? Don't we owe it to ourselves to push ourselves out of our comfort zones, yes, but also to work to permanently move those boundaries? What you weren't comfortable doing yesterday, shouldn't we work towards not just making a "one off" but to actually push and move those boundaries so that you're living in that zone tomorrow?

A lot of what I'm talking about here centers around technique maybe. I'm thinking about somebody who maybe started doing figurative work, does it once or twice, and then kind of moves onto something else. Don't we owe it to ourselves, rather than to try and "out shock" that limit, to push it just for the sake of pushing it, don't we owe it to ourselves to instead maybe work along the edges of our comfort zone and really get comfortable in our new hang out? Imagine, if you will, that same person who tries out the figurative work, imagine them actually working to master it, rather than trying to move that boundary yet again. Wouldn't that be better for us? Wouldn't that make for better art, say, in the long run? Do we even consider the long run in any of this?

There is something to be said for working in one's comfort zone. It allows you time to master technique. It allows you time to explore. It allows you time to fully explore and see where you can go, what you can do with something, as opposed to just jumping around, waiting to hop onto the next "big" thing. I do feel there is nothing wrong with working within one's comfort zone, so long as the artist is progressing in some other way (either by mastering technique or future exploration of subject matter.) It doesn't have to be "boring." Besides, if you are good at something, why not stick to that comfort zone to see what you can actually pull out, rather than moving along to something you maybe aren't quite as good at. Is it really better to be a jack of all trades instead of a master of one?

I think comfort zones provide us with a natural launch pad of sorts. They allow us a platform of safety from which we can go forth and explore. If the exploration doesn't say, pan out, we can always fall back into that natural pattern, that natural rhythm our comfort zones afford us. Yes, we need to push boundaries to grow and, at some point, that makes sense to do, but that "safety net" that "cushion" of a comfort zone also serves its place in our artistic development. Maybe the whole point is to work to move, over time, the comfort zone, to push it out and expand it into areas where we currently aren't so comfortable yes but, while we have them, that comfort zone provides us with a wonderful backdrop from which to branch out and really explore our limitations.

When I started doing photography, I did a lot of interior type shots. I've always been a bit of a studio photographer, more than I've really been a "field" photographer anyway. I'm comfortable working at home, working in my studio. I love new surroundings and exploration, yes, but I love to take these things back, return to my studio, and then re-work them into something I can explore on my terms, in the comforts of my own studio, rather than being pressured to work magic in the field. I've never really changed that. In some ways, my studio is my personal comfort zone. It's my happy space, if you will.

When I first started as a photographer, I also shot a lot of windows and doors. Tons of them. In fact, I can still, to this day, smell a good window or door from fifty paces. Really I can, and so too can anybody who studied under my first photography teacher. We were trained, hard core in fact, to sniff out these sorts of photographic opportunities. Over time (I've been an exhibiting photographer for more than 20 years now) windows and doors have become quite popular and then, alas, fallen out of favor yet again. It's a natural cycle and it happens with all types of photographic subjects. To be honest, I too have grown somewhat "past" the windows and doors subject, but it is very much a comfort zone for me. When I know not what else to do, I can always find a window, a doorway, a staircase of sorts, and just go for it. I think this image helps prove that, in some small way, this still works. It's maybe not magical or special or quite as difficult as it was when I first started and, yes, I'm sure you can see hundreds, if not thousands, of images just like this one on Flickr (or some such place) but that doesn't make it "bad" now, does it? Just because I was doing it back in 1992, back when nobody else was and now the whole wide world is doing it doesn't necessarily make it bad now, does it? I don't feel that way. I mean, maybe it isn't as special, maybe it isn't as unique, but it's not horrible really either, right?

Yes, I will shock and push those boundaries, stretch those limits at some point. I still do that too. But, really, does each and every shot have to be doing that? Can't I have some "comfort food for the eyes" along with my cutting edge craziness too? Isn't there room in the big bad art world for all of that and more? I mean, sometimes doing the same can be different (or unexpected) too, right?

All questions to ponder for this, a rainy Monday morning in River City.

Until next time...

Studio Day Today - Santa Fe Sunset-ish

2011-12-18T21:00:00.002-06:00

DowntownBuilding_0024, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Studio day today. Wasn't much to brag about but wasn't completely horrible either. Got one large new piece finished, started with the oil sticks on another (really like how this one came out-here's hoping I don't screw it up completely when it comes to adding the wax!) and finished one small piece that can only be described as "weird." Not sure I like, not sure I hate, just sort of "meh" but that's ok. There's enough studio lovin' to go around these days, what with all of the prints I've been making up, please the fun I've been having with the oil sticks on the Encaustic boards. Yes, I know, "pics or it didn't happen." I hope to upload some shots of the recent encaustic work soon, well, as soon as I take them, that is. Have to get off my duff and do that first, don't I? (Yeah, I know, sucks for me too. And you don't even have to spot me the Compact Flash.)

In case that "off the cuff" language doesn't fully translate, I've been working on a new, larger encaustic series (well 18x24 if you count that as being "large." Sure blows through a lot of wax!) I'm not quite sure what to call this series, but the "inspiration" (if you can call it that) is sunset in Santa Fe. Know I know, I just know, how absolutely *horrible* that sounds. Like bad Route 66 motel art only worse, right? Like otherwise good kitsch gone bad, horribly wrong actually. But it isn't, I mean, it's not really, although it could be. These are very abstract and just sort of "red-ish" (maybe more "brown-ish" than "red-ish" but really "earth-tone-y-ish" only that's too long and really gloriously hard to say.) What I'm really trying to say here is that these are just actually abstracts (complete abstracts) done up in colors that remind me of the sunsets out in Santa Fe. And that's not really very "Route 66 motel-ish" only worse if you think about which, you know, I'm sure you won't (well, not for very long anyway.)

I'm totally open to suggestions for names for this series. If you have any, do please shoot them my way. I'm sure it will help once I get off my duff and post some actual pictures, right? (Yes, I know, pictures to follow. Don't I always say that? And, sometimes even, it comes true.)

Been an otherwise quiet weekend. Was under the weather yesterday (man, what a headache! Darn allergies!) and then studio time and some good eats today. About to fall over with some green tea and catch up on some TV viewing before heading in for an early night.

On the subject of TV, lately anyway, it seems like Saturday night offers up the wildest of TV adventures for those courageous enough to venture into the land otherwise known as "basic cable." Last night, I actually found myself in bed with a migraine but also inexplicably torn between watching the Christmas episode of "Wipeout!" or a marathon of "Storage Wars!" For some reason (you'll probably never get me to admit to this in public again, so you might want to actually pay attention here) I find both of these TV shows mildly addictive. I mean, watching a bunch of wanna-be athletes fumble around getting knocked off "snow balls" by giant nutcrackers while trying their darnedest not to fall into a frozen lake was oddly watchable television. And then there's Storage Wars. Oh, now what can I say about Storage Wars. I just love Barry. He's so cute. Last night he took some old TV set from the 50's, brought it over to his artist friend and had him make an art project/diorama out of it. Amazing! I so want one of those. And this too can be yours for a mere $6000. Every time I watch that show, I swear, I wind up thinking, "Damn! I'm in the wrong business!" I so want to do *that* for a living. Don't you?

Well, it beats playing around with oil sticks and making something that can best be described as "Sorta Santa Fe Sunset-ish if you squint really hard," that's for sure. At least I think it does.

Until next time...

Autumn in December - Taking Stock

2011-12-15T17:45:00.002-06:00

MapleGlory_1652, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

It's autumn now in Austin. We've had a lot of rain and storms recently so I have been reluctant to post as much. I don't like to use my computer at home during thunderstorms, at least I try to avoid it. Today finds me posting from my laptop which is a much safer bet. It's been very rainy, foggy, and misty which we are all enjoying, as well as the leaves are now turning their proper autumn colors. Lots of reds and yellows out in the wilds these days.

As the seasons change and the calendar also draws a new change, many artists find themselves taking stock of 2011. I have seen many posts about "Best of" or "What I did this year" and, likewise, I'm not immune to these sorts of things. I too love to take stock of the year that was and I do think it's important for artists to do this.

One thing I have noticed though is that there seems to be a difference between successful artists and those who are more beginners, specifically in the "taking stock" phases of query. The beginners focus on what they did not do or what they want to do, while the pros or the more seasoned artists focus on what they do best or what they have executed. Good artists, professional artists actually, get things done. They are able to cut through all of the "red tape" and bull garbage to get things finished. Beginners allow small things to snag them up, snarl up their progress, and they let small things get in the way.

This year, as you are taking stock, I'd like to offer up a challenge. Focus on your strengths. What is it that you did well in 2011? Stop and really think about this. What is it that you do really well this year? What is the one single most important thing you did well in 2011 and why do you think you were good at it?

I'm a firm believer in the "Find Your Strengths" model of performance. It's an interesting book if you have not read it and an interesting model to use to focus your efforts. In case you are not familiar with it, the notion behind "Find Your Strengths" is that you focus on what you are good at.

Let me give you an example here. Supposing your son came home with a report card. Supposing the report card looked like this: English: B, Math: A, History: C, Art: B. What class would you focus on? What would you have little Johnny do more of in school?

If you're like most people, you would probably say "History" here. History since he got a C and he needs to improve, right? Well, the "Find Your Strengths" models all say to focus on Math, the class in which he got an A. It's probably a safe bet that little Johnny is not on his way to becoming a historian, but that doesn't mean he should focus on his weaknesses either. By focusing on his strengths, he can do better in what he's already excelling at. He might be a good mathematician now, but he could be a stellar one tomorrow. He might never like history. So, go ahead, let him get a C in it. Let him do ok but "just pass" in an area he is weak in, instead focus on his strengths, concentrate on what he does well. Get him working some mathematics and see what he really can do if he opens up the tap, so to speak.

The same theory can be applied to the arts. What is is that you do well? Find what it is and go and do it. Don't spend time, any time in fact, worrying over fixing what you are not good at. Instead, focus on what you do BEST. If you are bad at bookkeeping but you paint really well abstracts, paint a lot of abstracts in 2012 and hire yourself a bookkeeper. That's a great path to success and this model really works if you take it to heart.

So, as you're looking at 2012, as you're taking stock of 2011, I'd encourage you to really stop and look at your strengths. What is it you do well. Where did you knock it out of the park in 2011? Why don't you try to spend more time in 2012 doing that instead of trying to fix something else? Go on, push yourself and see how far you can go.

There will be many "Best of" lists in 2011. Many favorite music, best art, recaps, and recalls for the year that was, I'm sure. Instead of recapping (or maybe besides recapping) the year that was, why not look up to 2012 and think of it as the year that could be? Focus in on what you do best and see how far you can fly given a proper set of wings.

2012 is already shaping up as the year that could be. The big question is, what are you going to make of it?

Until next time...

The Studio Habit

2011-12-12T07:57:00.002-06:00

IcePoint_2875, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

One of the things I love about location photography is that you are able to immerse yourself in your work. When I'm at a place like this, for example, I usually don't have phones ringing or people wanting to take my time. I'm isolated. Most of these workshop type adventures allow you the luxury of doing just that-getting out into the field and work, work, working it. I think this is really important for artists of all stripes-to be able to spend ample amount of time in the studio (or in the field) working.

While I'm not fully convinced that artists need a degree to be a success, I'm also convinced that art school does instill certain factors into successful students. Most art school graduates, for example, learn how to market their work. They know how to build a base, a clientele, and work up from there. One of the other things they also get if they are lucky is an urgency about studio work. Most art schools have ample studio space and afford the budding artist space to work in the studio. There's also the time factor. Many students have plenty of time to do nothing but create-they don't suffer from the interference of a "daily life" getting in the way. Running a house, maybe if you have kids, doing laundry, taking care of the car, walking the dog, etc. these are all things that can get in the way of proper studio time. As artists, we need to learn to deal with these things and, in most cases, art school teaches budding artists how to do just that.

I've seen so many artists who make excuses and not art. I've met so many who say, "I just don't have time!" or "When I get a round to that..." I know a guy who has been wanting to purchase a printer to print his photographic images larger for about 5 years or more now. Every time I see him he makes comments about my work, "oh, love your new piece!" or "I saw your work up at..." He then talks about how "someday" he'll be able to get a printer setup to be able to print his work. Unfortunately, if he had started printing 5 years ago, he'd be a pro at it now, but he keeps putting it off. Sadly, for him, I doubt that big all-important "someday" is going to come to pass. (Do you really want to end up like that guy?)

There are other artists I know who let their children run their lives. I've talked before how there is nothing wrong with having children (thank goodness my mother felt that way, right? Note to self: remember her on mother's day!) The problem is I've seen so many artists who never get into the studio because they have to go and pick up the kids or their son has soccer practice or... Again with the excuses, again with the "putting yourself and your needs on the back burner." Yes, I know children are demanding and yes, I know it's hard to not pay attention but, especially if you're children are a bit older here, you need to make sure you get time for doing artwork. In the long run, your children will be better if you allow them to grow into their own independence and you're artwork is important to you too, so why are you not making time for it?

You need to make your studio time regular, like a habit. Practice going into the studio every day at the same time. Consider it like a job. You wouldn't blow off work everyday because your daughter called and wants you to pick her up or because Barney is on the TV or your son's soccer practice is...Stop it! Consider it your job and get into the studio. Make the other stuff wait. Unless little Johnny is bleeding, allow him the freedom to grow. He needs to learn to amuse himself and doesn't always need to be pulling at your coattails each and every hour of each and every day. This is especially true if you have older children. I can't tell you how many artists I know who do things like dishes for their high school aged children. Let them do their own dishes. They need to learn how to do this anyway if they are going to be a success in life, isn't it high time they start now? Stop coddling them and let them grow up. In the process, don't be afraid to devote more time to your artwork.

Your studio time should also be sacred. This is the place and time where you create. It's not about "me" time, it's about putting your art first. If you really want to succeed as an artist, you need to put your artwork first. You need a proper amount of studio output. You have to paint enough to sell enough paintings or take enough photos to be able to keep up with the kids on Twitter who tweet and Facebook about every little meal they eat or drink they gulp down with lunch. You can't just sit around in a chair wearing elbow patches talking about "the shot that got away" you have to make some new material. You have to have a strong creative output in order to be a success.

For me, I try to focus on art for part of each and every day. If I'm not working on it, I'm writing about it. If I'm not writing about it, I'm organizing it. If I'm not organizing it, I'm planning it. I edit work all of the time. There's always something going on, something in the pipeline, and I'm already working on the next big thing. In my mind, I'm four projects ahead and I like to keep my hands busy, you know, in the pot so to speak. It doesn't always seem like it but I try to make a habit of studio time and field work. I've always been good about keeping my studio sacred. I don't get disturbed easily. I don't answer the phone when I'm in studio and I try to plan my studio output. I don't always know exactly what I'm going to paint, or exactly where (which direction) a particular piece will take me, no, but I know that, on any given day, or any given time slot spent in the studio, I'm going to try to knock out a certain number of pieces. Things don't always go as planned, no, but I try and I'm sort of "mentally prepared" to do a certain amount of work each and every time I either pick up a camera or a paintbrush. If it doesn't work, if one particular piece takes longer than I might have anticipated, so be it. I'm making art, I'm not a robot, but I do have the habit of making art. I actually MAKE art, not excuses, and that's what important here.

So, while I might not knock out three pieces like I said I was going to, I make progress along with my art. I try to do more, to be more, to teach more, to learn more, and to grow more, both as an artist and as a human being. It's important to me. I want my artwork to get out there, yes, but I want to have something worthy of "getting out there" wherever that happens to be. I strive to make better art, not just to market it, and that means getting my hands dirty in the studio. Rolling up my sleeves and getting down to work. Yes, I'm all about working it in the studio these days.

I hope you'll consider your art habits. What you're doing that's working for you, how you're going about keeping your studio time sacred, and how you're developing your own studio habits. If you find yourself making too many excuses and not enough output, maybe it's time to stop and really think about what your priorities are. Especially at this time of year, when families tend to interfere more and it's easy to blow off menial tasks, I would encourage you to take a long hard look at your "art life" and see where it it taking you. Where do you want to go and are you producing enough, devoting enough studio time to get there?

It's an important question and one that only you really can answer. I hope you'll think about it, even for a moment today or at some point over your development as an artist. I know I have and I'm working towards developing good (or better) studio habits all of the time.

Until next time...

Studio Day Today - And More Gifts

2011-12-11T20:22:00.002-06:00

Speckled Sunset, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Studio day today-finished one large piece and got a head start on another. Not sure I quite like number 2 so I might scrape it down. Something tells me that, if I do decide to scrape it down, I'll like it better. Even given that, knocked out one large 18x24 piece today, which is really good. I need to get to 20 large ones before January 15th or so, so I can start sending this stuff out and moving along with plans for next year. Wish me luck on that.

Tomorrow night is the photo group party so I'm going to head over there in the evening if I can manage it. I will bring some prints and get some prints in exchange (from other members, of course.)

Yesterday, I wound up doing 3 or 4 small pieces (6x6) and two 12x12 (aka "foot long") boards. I really quite like the 12x12s, I like how they came out. I also wound up showing my Blurb book (work in progress) to a few folks and got an idea to do a giant 12x12 book of wax. I'm going to photo a lot of my square panels and do a 12x12 book of encaustics at some point. Wish me luck that project as well. Another day brings another project, right? Will it ever end?

Got a lot of plans for the coming year and it's almost time to start writing some of those "this is the year that was..." posts. I'll be curious (but maybe not so much) to see which photo winds up at the top of the heap, in terms of my best photo for 2011. Might be an interesting race this year but then again might be something you totally expect. Only time will tell, right? Which image of mine do you think is going to make it? Which image is going to bubble to the top? Like I said, only time will tell.

Well, time and a certain artist/blogger who has been very busy in her studio lately, that is.

Until next time...

Time to Make the Gifts

2011-12-10T08:39:00.002-06:00

IceWalls_2371, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Tonight, it's time for the International Encaustic Artists (IEA) Texas Wax annual holiday party. The party is going to be held at Pigoata Studios North, on Pond Springs Road starting at 6 pm. As we do every year, the IEA artists are asking to "bring a small gift of artwork to share in a gift exchange."

I'm so STRESSED about this. For starters, every year I go to this, I wind up getting a wonderful piece of art. I love the piece I get to take home-I mean like LOVE here. Like totally adore. I've gotten some great work in these holiday exchanges.

And what have a I shared?

GULP. Ok, so the first year, I was a beginner. I had an excuse! My piece was no so great. I mean, it wasn't horrible but it's not something fantastic either. It was newbie art. Oh the humanity! Oh the horror!

Last year, I barely had time to scratch something together. It was like "quick, glue some paper down and WAX WAX WAX!" ten minutes before the meeting started. We were even late getting there! Oh boy!

So, here were are again.

This year, I'm going to try to dunk this thing into wax. Wish me luck with this.

Right about now, I'm thinking that this will look ok. That this might look something like marble under wax. And I *so* wanted to do an iceberg because I figured that icebergs are kind of hard to find. Most of the folks in the wax group will probably not wind up traipsing around Iceland looking for them, so it's a safe gift in that they won't have one already.

Oh, wish me luck with this wax work! I'm going to need it.

First step, glue the photo to the panel and let that dry. Then wax over it, paint the edges, and let that dry. Then wire up the back.

Let's see if I can get all of this done today, before the 6 pm party starts.

Wish me luck, Internets!

Until next time...

Depth Perception

2011-12-09T08:11:00.002-06:00

RollsHoodieFacingRight, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Today's topic for discussion is depth perception. How do we emulate depth in flat work? How do we make photos seem to jump off the page or paintings really have that "zing" and appear to fly off the wall? It's not always as easy as it appears.

Photographers can use "tricks" here like focus, leading lines, and the like, to give work some depth. Likewise painters often use tints and tones, lightening or darkening an area to make it look like it's coming forward or receding back into the ground. Then there's also the matter of scale. Like the good car mirror says, "objects in mirror are closer than they appear" both artists and photographers can use scale to give a piece depth. Making something smaller relegates it more to the background while larger object tend to "jump" forward more.

As an artist, I've always been fascinated with perception and scale. My weak spot, if you will, was always tone-I've never been any good at toning charcoal, for example and I even have difficulty toning prints on some level (I'm the first to admit there are those much better at this than I am!) but scale? Yeah, that was always fun for me. Perspective and scale have always interested me and I have never had a hard time understanding them. I can't always draw them right the first time out of the box, but I usually get it on the second or third attempt and, if I'm being blunt, I can be pretty good at it if I really buckle down and apply myself. I can usually get some kind of perspective or scale that matches "the real world" even though I cannot draw very well.

If you following the "Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain" way of thinking, there are different aspects of drawing. Line, shape, tone, perspective, etc. Everybody, every single one of us is good at one of these and likewise (I hate to inform you) every single one of us is also bad at another one of these (or, you know, maybe just "not as good.") Most of us? Well, welcome to the lump that is the middle of the bell curve.

Perspective seems to be one of the harder ones, that is to say not as many people are "good" at it. Depth perception, scale, and perspective all go hand-in-hand in a lot of ways, as they all help give an otherwise flat work a 3-dimensional feel. In a way, it's great that photography came along, as it's really a great tool for artists to learn how to work with depth, perspective and scale. Photography allows us to "freeze" something in time and space so that we can more accurately see the depth, perspective, and scale of the object. (It does a lot more than that, photography does, but it does that for us too.)

And that, in a nutshell, is probably why I became a photographer in the first place. I love perspective. I love scale. I love depth. Not so crazy about tone, but I can work around that. Color photography helps us do that. No surprise here that I started out as a color photographer and, even though I have grown to love black and white more and more over the years, color is really where I lay down better work (at the end of the day) unless I shy away from the pesky tone part. Over the years, over many years of being a photographer, I have learned to work more with tone. I recognize it as a weak spot and try to overcome it as best I can. I know too though it's something I need to work on, to work hard at, while it comes naturally to some other folks. Perspective though? Yeah, I'm comfortable playing in that sandbox.

Sometimes, it's interesting to examine our strengths and weaknesses and see how they molded the choices we've made over the years. We tend to gravitate towards things that highlight our strengths, at least I know I do. I'll never be a tone poet but you can always count on me to come up with some crazy, unusual viewpoint, that's for sure.

So today, on this Friday, I would encourage you to think about your strengths and weaknesses. What is it you do best? What do you want to work on? Which aspects of art (line, tone, scale, perspective, etc.) do you maybe feel need some attention and which ones can you claim as your strong points? Once you find these things out, if you don't know them already, it might help you grow as an artist some, so I'd encourage you to do some digging if you have not looked into this already.

Until next time...

Get Off the Internet Get On the Gallery Walls

2011-12-08T07:22:00.002-06:00

MountainSide_4164, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I recommend showing and sharing your work on the Internet as much as possible. It's a great way for an artist to really grow, get feedback, and develop over time. I love having small communities of close friends, especially friends I trust very much, to tell me when I'm doing something right or doing something wrong. It really helps. But, there's more to showing work than just that.

Showing your work in front of real "live people" is a totally different experience. For starters, there is nothing quite like that feeling of sitting in a gallery, playing "mouse on the wall" and watching people react and respond to your work. It's the best feedback you can get, really it is. Open and honest and all about the work (usually.)

Showing your work allows you to interact with the public. It allows you to meet new people, explore new ideas, and share time with other artists (usually.) These can all be valuable aids in advancing your art career.

Showing your work also help you talk about it better. Many artists, so many artists I work with simply cannot talk about their work. They don't know what to say. They haven't quite mastered that "elevator speech" and they can't say anything meaningful (good or bad) about their work or the work of others. This is one of the down sides of not going to art school, I guess, because they teach you there to critique work. Sure, nobody likes somebody who is always going to criticize but, let's face facts. If you're going to be a working artist in this world, you had better get used to some criticism too. Not everybody is always going to love your stuff, and you'd best learn how to deal with it. Showing art in venues and interacting with people can really go a long way towards helping you build up that thick skin and really handle criticism when you get it.

Having said that, most of my interactions with people have been wonderful. Most people coming to see art are there because they enjoy it. They want to see what you have to offer! This is what you do, this is your moment to shine, so really enjoy it. The best artists are not always the ones who can slap paint better on the canvas, no, they are communicators. Part of that communication involves talking with people. So, go ahead, do that meet and greet. Spend a few hours sitting in a gallery and strike up some conversations. Learn to speak about art, practice if you have to, but do it.

Another thing that happens is that, when you show art, you become a part of the artistic community. You immediately join the family of artists living and working in your community. That sense of camaraderie is really something. There's nothing quite like feeling a part of the "in" crowd, believe me. Many of your contacts and future opportunities grow out of networking with other artists. Nobody should create art in a vacuum, so get used to getting out more.

Before you can show your work, a lot of what you have to do is work out the logistics. If you're a photographer, figure out how to print, matte, and frame your work. Go ahead and do it. Nobody is going to help you. Most of the artists I know do this themselves. I can't tell you how many photographers I've met over there years who are "just about to get a printer so they can do some stuff with it." If you've been "just about to get" a printer for three or four years now, what exactly are you waiting for?

Printing is a very large part of photography, in fact, I would go so far as to say mastering printing is almost as important as mastering camera exposure. It's that critical to the success of my work. Sure, most of you never get to see that-you don't get to see and share the experience of seeing a "real live" print from Carol's hands, but I'm setup as a photographer to be a print photographer. The print is everything to me. I take great pride (and often great pains-follow me on Twitter if you want a laugh at that bit. Light magenta, I'm talking to you here) in crafting my prints. I spend hours getting them just the way I want them. This is important to me in showing my work.

If you don't know how to print, you're missing half the fun.

The same goes for painters. Learn to take great photos of your work, learn how to photograph your paintings so they show in the best light. Learn how to frame your work and present it in the best way. Get nice business cards, like Moo cards, featuring your work and make a lovely Blurb book of your work to show people. Learn how to present yourself, so that your work will be held in the highest regard. All of this stuff is important. I can't tell you how many opportunities I get from "face to face" contact. From going to show, talking with people.

One of the best "exercises" I ever did was go to a gallery show (it happened to be a show that I had work in but this doesn't have to be the case) and just going around the room, stopping each of the artists and simply asking them, "Can you please tell me something about your work?" Artists love to share, it's inherent in what we do, so it naturally follows that we love to answer questions about process or subjects. Many artists can't strike up a conversation like, "Hi! I'm Carol. I'm an encaustic painter and photographer and this is what I do...." but, if you ask the same artists questions? Yes, that's when you'll get an answer. It doesn't have to be elaborate questions either. Just simple things like, "can you tell me something about your work?" or "can you please tell me something about this piece?"

Every piece of artwork, like the artists that made them, has a story to tell. Learn to ask and tell about that story. Share your stories. It's part of the entire experience of what we do as artists.

I follow a few newsletters (on-line) and one of them this week has issued a challenge. The newsletter is telling people, actually challenging them, to go and get a "real live show" of their artwork by January 15th. I think that's a great idea. If you're not going to do it now, then when? But I'd go a step beyond that challenge. Don't just show your work by January 15th, no, share you story. Share your story with somebody by January 15th and I bet it will make all of the difference in the world for your artwork.

So, go ahead. The gauntlet has been thrown. Are you up to the challenge? Or are you doing to diddle and dawdle about, fussing over getting some new printer that's never going to really show up? If you're not going to do it now, then when? It's your artwork we're talking about here. Do you really want to keep putting it on the back burner for so long? Or is it time, is it finally time to get out and share it some? Doesn't it have a story too that deserves to be shared? Come on, let's see what you got. Share your story with somebody by January 15th. Are you up for the challenge?

Until next time...

Tips for Bloggers

2011-12-07T09:06:00.002-06:00

, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

It's been a while since I've posted some tips for bloggers, so I thought today might be a good day to do some of that. A lot of my tips in the past have been centered around getting started with a blog or getting up and going. Today, these tips are a bit more geared for folks who have been blogging a bit and maybe want some pointers.

For starters, I get asked a lot how I keep posting to my blog. How I keep it up, day over day. The short answer is, well, I don't. If I wake up in the morning and I just don't have anything all that interesting to say, why I don't blog. I don't feel the pressing need to blog or even to craft a blog post each and every day (for the most part. You know, minus November.) I usually craft a post when I have something interesting, something relevant to post about, otherwise I just wait a day or two before posting.
Another tip I use is I try to come up with a general topic. Like "tips for bloggers" or "music" or whatever topic is handy, and then sort of "flesh out" a post related to that topic. Sometimes, my ramblings take me far from my original topic, that's fine, that's what blogs are supposed to do. This is an informal means of communication and I don't spend a lot of time "polishing" my blog posts. I don't over-edit them and I often don't even run a complete spell check. It's ok if you do that, don't let spelling rule your life. Sure it's great to have nicely polished bio and press kits but this situation, this is not the same. People have grown to expect a more informal setting on a blog. Some people don't even write complete sentences, and that's fine too. There are no hard and fast rules here, just write as you feel and try to have clear thoughts. That's all I do and, I believe, that's how many blog posts are crafted.
I try to keep my posts relevant or somewhat relevant-ish to my art and photography. Sometimes, as you know, I famously "go off" this model (my Tivo has a fan-base. Well, except for that entire Nicolas Cage incident, but we won't bring that up again.) I do even try to go "off topic" on a select few topics. Sometimes talking about TV or movies or music is ok but I try not to make a habit of it. I try to keep most posts short but don't adhere to any strict length. I stay on topic and just let it happen.
I try to tie-in an image with a post in some small way. I love to have one image and one post in combination. I think this really works for my blog although I'd be the first to admit this model is maybe not for everybody. Since I have a large archive of images, it's not hard for me to write and post an image at the same time. Your results may vary.
Finally, I avoid messing with templates. My advice here is simple but, I think, very helpful. Pick a template of some kind that you like and stick with it. Don't spend hours fussing with templates, put your time where it matters most: content. Try to be a content generator and come up with lots of content rather than spending your valuable time fussing with the "look and feel" of a blog. The default templates are fine, just try to come up with some on-topic posts and craft your blog a bit more. After a while, if you really feel like diddling with your template, go ahead and do so, but don't let that stop you from blogging or keep you from generating new content.
There is nothing wrong with only blogging once a week or even once a month and there is nothing wrong with putting a post up that contains nothing more than a new piece of art that you have created or a new photo you have taken. Don't feel pressured by the blogs of others into having to "live up to" certain expectations. I'm going to sound like your mother here but, just because "little Johnny" is posting every day and writing gobs of new material for his blog, doesn't mean that you have to also. Do what you feel comfortable doing.
Then there is the topic of rants. Rants work great and can be received as being very funny even but, here again, don't make a habit of it. Posting too many rants will lead people to believe that you are a negative person. Complaining about a brush that falls apart or a photo shoot that didn't work out all too well is fine if you do it once in a while but remember that people (your fans) want to share in your successes too, not just hear about your rants.
Try to keep your audience in mind. Who is reading your blog? What do you think they are going to want to read about today? Sometimes, answering these all too simple questions leads to great content. Especially if you are working in the field, if you are in the trenches and actually doing something like traveling or working with a specific type of technique, people love to hear that and they want to listen to what you have to say so don't be afraid to speak up. Say what's on your mind, and tell them what you think they want to hear about. Share what it is your doing with them. They'll love it, I'm sure.
I've said before that this blog is read mostly by artists and photographers and so that is my target audience. I try to keep them in mind. If I post everyday about the weather or about what I ate for dinner or something unrelated this will eventually chase them away. Sure a rant from time to time about a chicken I burnt or my dead mac and cheese is fine, but I look at that as being part of living the life of an artist. I'm not a chef and most people don't come here for cooking advice, but I'm also ok if they share in my burnt dinner once in a while. Sometimes though, things are on my mind and they are things that are not really related to art and photography and, if that's the case, why you're probably going to hear about them or, at least, hear a little bit about them. They're part of me and I don't mind sharing. This is my kitchen table of sorts and so anything is fair game but I do try and come around to the topic at hand again and again. It's what keeps people coming back for more.
I try to let readers in on big projects or even long-running projects I'm working on. I think this is helpful as they can learn too by following along. You are also right along with me when I travel because that's a big part of what I do. As Joe McNally so eloquently put it, "I’m thankful airplanes generally go interesting places, ’cause I’m on them a lot." Yes, photographers are on them a lot indeed. In these days of social media, the "behind the scenes" is the scenes, so I let you in on that whenever I possibly can. It's what you want to see.
I try to share information about upcoming shows, gallery openings, and the like, although I also try to avoid being a commercial. If every post I were to write started out with a "buy this!" or "look at my work here!" I know you would stop coming here, stop reading along. I try to keep those more like pleasant interruptions, rather than the norm, even if I do wind up doing a lot of shows this year. I do, however, think it important to share. I also find this helps promote other artists. A lot of artists in Austin don't blog and don't have websites so, often, I find I'm the only way their invitation might get on the web or in front of so many eyes on Facebook. I almost think of this as a service I provide and do try to promote the artwork and photography of others as often as I can.
Blogging is like exercise. The more you do it, the better you get at doing it. It's just kind of one of those things you have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and say, ok now, I'm going to start doing this. It has its own rewards. The Internet can be a wonderful place, and you enjoy it a lot more when you are a blogger.
Some days you are the pigeon and some days the statue. What I mean by that is that, some days, it's going to feel like the entire world is reading your blog while others? Yeah, not so much. Even your grandmother will tell you she has better things to do with her time. Accept that. Internet traffic varies. It's better to build up a stable of regular readers than to become a flash in the pan one hit wonder. Take your time and don't expect instant results. Nothing is instant in this world except for make instant mashed potatoes and even they take 90 seconds in the microwave.
Don't substitute a blog for doing marketing and, by this, I mean real marketing. Have business cards, hand them out. Talk to people. Attend shows in your area. Go out and see local art. Go on photo shoots, see what it's like even if you are not a professional. Having a blog is not a substitute for living an interesting life, try to strive to do both if you can.
Lastly, have fun. I try to have fun in everything I do, even if I take things seriously. There's always a little bit of fun thrown in somewhere along the way.

I hope these tips help you out some. At least, they seem to work out for me, though I recognize everybody finds there own way in the blogging universe. Do what works for you and enjoy it if you can. That's probably the best tip of it, isn't it?

Until next time...

She Took to Her Bed

2011-12-06T07:46:00.002-06:00

RedPillow_4998, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Those of you who pop in here all the time have probably grown used to me starting off my day with some very serious rant about framing or model releases or how there really is a severe Compact Flash shortage in the world (sure, don't believe me on that one! You try hunting those little cards in the wild. Hard to spot in the jungle, let me tell you.) Today's topic is going to be, well, different from that. Today I'm going to talk about laziness.

It's a lot of work being an artist. It's a lot of work, we have a lot of things to do, there are many items to complete, "to do" lists to conquer, and just plain not enough hours in the day. Couple that with a case of "gee, it's cold outside today!" and, what do you get? Bed. Beds like this one. Yes, indeed, today, I have to admit it, I'd much rather be sleeping. I'd much rather be sleeping then going out, lugging along a heavy camera, or dipping some messy items into molten hot wax. I don't want to get my fingers all dirty smudging around some pastels. Today, I really, really want to sleep. SLEEP. I want to take to my bed. But, alas, I can't. I have too much to do.

As an artist, I always feel like I don't do enough. Like there are not enough hours in the day, I always have more to do. You can send your work out infinitely, really you can. There are a million places you can always send your work out, a million model releases to file and, heck after all that, if you're still bored, why you can always sit down at the computer and order more Compact Flash. There's lighting to diddle with and shots to sketch, paperwork that must be done, heck my studio is not the most organized of places these days (Now, where exactly did I put those foam brushes that I need. Hmmmm...) I could also be editing and posting additional shots. Many of you complain about how I have yet to post a complete set from Iceland. I have yet to do that. I have also yet to post a complete set from New Orleans, from Venice, from my recent trip into the woods. There's lots of stuff. I have tons of things to do, and tons of things I could be doing at any given moment of any given day. Really, we artist and photographer types, we're a busy lot, trust me on this one. If all of that weren't enough, I still have to take more pictures, yes I do. Makes you almost wonder how I find time to do that, seeing as I have so much other stuff I need to do, doesn't it?

Many of my friends, well maybe some of my friends might describe me as "hard-working." I like to think that I am. In fact, I like to think that I can really buckle down and get things done, knock things out when I really apply myself. The trouble with that is that I'm really a lot lazier than I look. There are times, there are days, when I really don't even feel like getting up and getting out of bed. Really, I don't. It's just so hard to get even the slightest bit motivated to do even the simplest of things. I want to hit the snooze button over and over again instead of doing anything, really I do. Lounge around the house much? Yup, that's me. I've got a friend who calls this a "house slug" day. Yes, you can call it that. I like to think of it as "taking to my bed." Not that I'm sick or anything, just that, well, I feel like I could really use a day off, a day away from everything. Like I want to curl up and read a good book instead of doing any of this.

This weekend, I had some big plans. I was going to do some great giant pastels and they were going to change the world! Everybody was going to see them because, after I did them of course, I was going to photograph them and post them on the Internets for all to see, yes I was. I was not only going to post them, I was going to enter them into a local show. I even had plans to frame them and make them look extra pretty. Oh, it was going to be great. Of course, they exist now only in my mind but, I have to say, they are looking pretty buff even if they exist only in my head (for now.) At some point, I promise, I'll do them yet. You just wait and see. And I'll show them to you, I swear I will. You'll get to see them too, I promise. Well, as soon as I start them anyway. (They've been bouncing around in my brains for a few months now, I really need to do something to get them out of there, don't I?)

But, what did I do this weekend instead?

Curl up with a book. Watch TV. Eat a little bit. Heck, I didn't even make it out to the grocery store. It was all too cold and rainy and I just didn't feel like going outside. I didn't even do laundry (requires a trip outside, which Chase would have loved. Sorry, little buddy, no "cat hunting" time for you this weekend. It was just too cold and wet.)

And then yesterday, after my great post on rain and how we should all go out and conquer the rain, how we should be all so inspired by the great cold and wet offering from the sky, one of my regular readers, Mythopolis, commented how he loves to stay at home with vodka in his pajamas and watch Netflix when it's raining. Oh, God! I so want to stay at home and do THAT. Doesn't that sound really good right about now?

[OK, LISTEN UP GREAT UNIVERSE IN THE SKY. I want to stay at home and watch Netflix. I really would love some Bailey's and coffee right about now, in my bed, thank you very much, with a GREAT MOVIE on my TV set and some time to just curl up and finish some nice books I've started over the Thanksgiving holiday. PLEASE. PLEEEEAAAASEEEE. Can I have a day off? We thank you in advance for your cooperation. --The Management]

Oh, my plan for "seize the opportunity! Go out in the rain!" backfired in oh so many ways, let me tell you. Now I'm going to spend all day fantasizing about spending all day in my pajamas with a cup of Bailey's and coffee with like maybe a good movie on the idiot box. Oh snap! This is so wrong in oh so many ways.

[Back to the serious blog post for a moment, shall we?]

One of the problems with doing art as a "hobby" (gosh, I hate that word) is that we essentially do it as a second job. As somebody who's kept a "second job" for about 20 years now, I have to tell you, there are times when I get really very tired. There are times, there are days I come home from "work" and have to go back to "work" and I just so feel like going to bed. It's hard being an artist. If you do it full-time, you often find yourself broke, without any money. If you do it part-time, you often find yourself with any time at all, no time left to do any of the "little things" like lead a "normal" life. Some of the "soccer Mom" type people I know routinely complain about having to pick the kids up from practice or host in-laws for dinner or some such thing. That's child's play compared to the life of an artist, really it is. If you don't believe me, try it for a week, if you can even make it that long.

Being an artist is a big commitment. You have to commit yourself to pursue your passion and that might mean giving up simple things, like TV, trips to the mall, dinners with the in-laws. You have to be an artist 24x7, there's no half-way out of this. It's an all or nothing endeavor. Many of the artists I know are working artists and this means they have "day jobs" (everything from being a waitress to working at Macy's to working in high-tech, you name it.) Even without a "day job" you have to spend a lot more time "at work" than most people who work full-time. That means sitting in front of the computer, running to the pak-mail place to send out work, sorting invoices, doing taxes, arranging model releases, getting prints ready, uploading or resizing files, and tons of other stuff that maybe the casual observer does not "see" but needs to be done. It really is a full-time job being an artist. It's full-time and then some. Most creative types work a lot of hours and sometimes it feels like there aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done.

When people ask me "what do you do?" I often tell them I have two jobs. I work in high-tech some, yes, but I'm also an artist and photographer. One of these jobs pays me very well while one is very rewarding. And I wouldn't change that for the world, really I wouldn't. I love the balance of being able to shoot what I want and not have to worry about clients. I also love the steady paycheck high-tech affords me. Just yesterday, I was browsing $58 dollar paint brushes. I could not do that if I were only a poor "starving" artist. My "day job" as it were allows me the opportunity to do more with my art. It allows me to travel and affords me the best art supplies money can buy. I don't want to be a poor, struggling painter who can't afford her next tube of paint, believe me, that's no fun. That's not a pretty place and I will do everything I can, everything in my power, to avoid ending up there.

When asked by students or other artists when I'm going to quit my day job or, even worse, if I think they should quit their day jobs (often I get asked quite bluntly, "when do you think I'll be good enough to quit my day job?") I always reply with the same answer:

KEEP YOUR "DAY JOB" AS LONG AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN.

It's great to have a source of solid, steady income and, trust me, no matter how good an artist, photographer, or musician you think you are, you'll always appreciate having a "cash cushion." It's just good for you and it makes for better art. It's easier to make art when you don't have to worry about paying the bills, when you don't have to worry about where next month's rent is going to come from or when you don't have to worry about how you are going to be able to afford your next tube of paint. It might seem like a pain to have to go to work and then come home and go to work again but it's not really. It's building discipline. That's something artists need to become successful anyway. You don't really think that great artists sit around in lounges all day staring at the walls, do you? They don't call it artWORK for nothing, get used to it. It's a grind and you had best learn early and often how to pick-up the pace if you really want to survive or begin to make it as a creative type. Artists are some of the hardest working people on the planet, they just don't look like they are doing much because they really love their work and get to do fun stuff, but it's still work.

As to me, as to when I will completely quit the old day job, I'm not 100% sure about that one. I do feel it slipping away and don't feel as pressing a need to keep one but, please do recall, I've been doing this for over 20 years now. Maybe it's about time but, then again, maybe not. It's all too easy to fall into the grind of just keeping it and keeping on so that I have that steady cushion but I'm also at a point in my career where if it fell through I would be ok too. I am almost ready to make the switch but don't want to fully commit yet.

More on this in future topics and posts, I'm sure. Until then, I'm going to try to get over this "she took to her bed" mentality although I might really just take a day off. It couldn't hurt to relax for a day or two and nobody would really miss me if I did it, just for a day. Just for one little old day, I might just go the Netflix and Bailey's route but, you know, I'm not going to stay there for long. I've still got some pastels floating around in my head and it's not going to be "rainy day curl up in bed with a good book" weather for long now, is it?

Until next time...

Stuck in the Rain

2011-12-05T07:33:00.002-06:00

CafeDuMondeWaitress_3240, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

In case you have not heard the news, it's raining in Austin. Now, this is newsworthy for a couple of reasons. For starters, Austin and Texas in general have been under a severe drought. So this rain, all of this rain, is actually good news. Well, it's good so long as you don't have to paint or work outside, right? This weekend, we got this nice soaking rain. It rained almost all weekend, both days, even raining really on Friday. A nice soaking rain. The kind the trees really like. I'm glad about that, we're all, in fact, glad about that. But, as an artist, what to do? What to do? This got me thinking about doing a post about art, photography, and rain.

For starters, rain can really be an inspiration. If you don't believe me, try taking a walk on a rainy day. Things look different. You will see different things and you will see some of the same things in different ways. And that really makes for interesting artwork, really it does. Try it out, just once, and you can see what I mean by this. You'll see the world in entirely new ways and maybe even spot some things you hadn't noticed before the rain came along.

But you don't even really need rain to try this. No, you don't. Just the idea of rain, just the "doom and gloom" mentality can add an interesting twist to your artwork. If you're a painter, try painting what you think things might look like in the rain. Try substituting a different color palette, instead of your usual bright, sunny colors, try working with (or blending) paints to get tints and tones that look more like what you think the rain might look like. This could lead to some very interesting results, even if it isn't raining where you live.

As a photographer, there are things you can do to protect your camera from the rain and, yes, rain can make an otherwise simple shoot very tough going. I often use a shower cap to protect my camera from the rain, they also make a sell waterproof pouches and, just this year for my trip to Iceland, I decided to get a dedicated camera "poncho" type of protective gear for my camera. These "ponchos" come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and allow you to work your camera in the rain. I starting use the AquaTech Sport Shield rain cover which looks something like this:

and I highly recommend it, as it's used by a lot of sports photographers and others who really need to protect their gear.

Even if you aren't doing a lot of shooting in the rain, and don't want the added expense of getting a protective cover, you can use a lot of other techniques to continue shooting in the rain. Doorways provide optimal cover and allow you to shoot (or continue shooting) as do overhangs, eves, and awnings. Look for buildings with these features and duck underneath for an "instant umbrella." Another point about doing this-you might think that you're going to get horrible shots in the rain, that nothing will come out right. It might look that way at first but, especially if you like color photography, you can really do wonders in the rain. Rain makes for interesting light and gives you great shadow detail not to mention it can help you avoid a certain "problem" or "sticky point" for most photographers. Many photographers complain about the "too many tourists!" type of issues-that is, they can't get a clear shot because people are walking through their shots a lot. One of the many benefits of shooting in the rain is that, when it's raining out, you often find you have streets to yourself. No tourists! They are easily scared away by buckets of water falling from the sky. Who knew, right?

When it rains, you'll find the water typically comes in "waves" that is, it might be raining heavily but then sort of "let up a bit" later on. Look for these brief "dry periods" (or, you know, "drier" as the case might be) and try to shoot in bursts during this time. There will be less water but the streets, sidewalks, etc. still will have that wonderful wet look and the tourists will still be hiding. It's a win-win situation so try to make the most of it.

I often stuff my camera under my coat or jacket in the rain and this is pretty easy to do. Just put the strap over your head first, before putting on the outerwear and then open your coat in the dry bursts to take shots. This works well and can keep a lot of the moisture off of your camera and out of your shots.

If you are staying at a hotel, don't forget to "steal" the shower caps and also a dry washcloth, which you can use to sort of "mop up" the front of your camera. I usually shoot with a filter on the front of my lenses (although I don't do this for all lenses) so I have no issues cleaning off the filter with the washcloth. Filters are relatively cheap these days so I don't even worry too much about scratching one, as it's so easily replaced.

Another "tourist" related event is that, when it's raining, people tend to gather indoors and, surprise! They are often easier to talk to when it's raining. You might not think this to be the case but try starting up a conversation with somebody waiting by the doorway, waiting for the water to stop pouring from the sky. Who has not heard the words, "it's really coming down out there!" more than once in their lifetime? This sort of "tourist small talk" might be just the type of conversation opener you can use to pounce on a waiting subject. "Hey, since it's really coming down, would you mind if I take a picture of you while you wait for your cab?" You never know, but you just might find some interesting subjects who might not otherwise talk with you especially given those sunny days.

Coffee places, like Starbucks and the lot, tend to be more frequented when it's colder and rainier too so don't forget to hang out in your local Starbucks or similar place to try and pick-up some new models. I usually travel with business cards and, sometimes if I don't have time to take actual shots in the coffee house, I'll make the most of the time by handing out cards and asking people, "do you model? Have you ever thought about modeling?" This too is easy to do and it really can be a bit easier to strike up a conversation when it's really coming down.

Finally, don't forget about flowers. Flowers look great in the rain and tend to collect drops of water. This can really make for interesting shots. If you don't have flowers handy, you can also use screen doors or windows (again, great look with water on them) drops falling off of leaves, even drops of water on things like grass blades look interesting with water on them. Try some macro shots of water drops in unexpected places for a new look and have fun with that lingering water while you can. The heat of summer will be here soon enough.

I'm sure there are lots more ideas for rainy days out there. Just put your thinking cap on, hey it's water proof! and get to work.

Until next time...

Graceful

2011-12-02T11:53:00.002-06:00

EleganceNo1, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Today's theme is graceful. Being graceful means a lot to a photographer. Not everybody can be graceful, although most of us, it would appear, get better with practice.

The dictionary says that the word graceful means: "displaying grace in form or action; pleasing or attractive in line, proportion, or movement."

That's almost like asking what milk tastes like. Grace is one of those things (kind of like pornography in a way) where you see it when you know it and you know it when you see it. Some people are so very graceful while others, eh, not so much. But there's also a state of being graceful, of sort of acting gracefully or with a bit of grace. Being courteous, being kind, having a smile, cheering up a friend. Those things are all graceful too, although they don't always please us "in line, proportion or movement" like the dictionary says.

As a photographer, when I look for subjects as models, one of the first things I look for is a sense of grace. I don't usually demand certain physical characteristics, no. I don't look for models only a certain height or hair color or eye color or bone structure, although certainly some of that helps (and it almost never hurts.) It's more like though, when I'm out looking for a subject, I look for a certain amount of grace. Can you carry yourself well? Do you have a strong carriage? You you walk, move, and position yourself with style and ease or are you more of the clumsy sort? These things make for great photos. Sometimes too, yes, even those "more of the clumsy sort" make for interesting images, although quite different from the graceful ones (like you see here.) I think grace is really tied with gesture. Those people who are graceful in "real life" like, say, when you see them walking around in the mall or spot them from across the way in a restaurant, you know, you just know as a photographer that they are going to give you good gestures. And good gestures? They make for some of the best images around, really they do.

I love gesture because it's a hint, it's a suggestion, it an allegory not a statement of fact. And I love images that hint at things, that suggest things, that present the allegory not the full story or the whole truth. I like to leave something behind, like a "keepsake" if you will. To hold back just a little. It provides that sort of unexplained tension that can really make an image dynamic, really make an image POP if you will. It works for artists, it works for photographers, it even works in acting and lots of other art forms. Some of the best actors have trained themselves to not "over-act" as it were but they hid behind a cloak of subtlety. Those hints, those suggestions, that subtle "tell" that's sometimes where your money shot lies. Seek it, find it, hunt it down, dig it out and bring it to us full force. I'm not suggesting you do it every time, no, but maybe try this out and see it if fits for you, for your style of shooting.

So, next time you're shooting people, try the blatantly obvious poses, yes, but try on too some hints, some suggestions, some subtle gestures to see what you get. Catch somebody in mid movement, don't let them formalize a pose. Maybe even sneak up behind them or shoot them when they aren't looking or are a bit more relaxed. Try to hold something back or ask your model to hold something back. Find a "keepsake" in a pile of in your face smiling cookie cutter poses. You never know, it just might work for you.

Until next time...

Keep and Don't Delete - a Furnace for Your Thoughts

2011-12-01T07:20:00.002-06:00

MarcoPoloFurnace_5332, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Today's topic of discussion is about revisiting work. This image was actually shot in 2005, about this time of year in fact. I believe it was November of 2005 when I first visited Venice. This shot is actually a Lensbaby shot of one of the furnaces on the Venetian island of Murano. Yes, that's the famous island where "Murano Glass" comes from in case you did not know (or could not figure that out.) These "furnace" style buildings are actually the places there they go to blow the glass. (So it really is, hot like a "furnace" in there.)

But this really isn't about the furnace. Or Venice. Or Murano. Or even the glass. It's about revisiting work. Going back, looking through old slides. Checking out old work. Seeing anew with a fresh eye.

This is something I don't do enough, to be honest with you. I'm almost 100% certain that there are a lot of "old gems" in my stash of shots. Somewhere, in my hard drive, along with the recipe for a really good pot roast and possibly the location of that last lost sock coming from the clothes dryer, there are some great photos lurking. And I don't even have to go out of the house to get them! In fact, I could sit here in my pj's and fish them out, if I were so-inclined.

The problem is, like most others, I'm always obsessed with the new. I want everything newfangled. I want to shoot new stuff, to go out and find new treasures. I want to capture new, raw material and fill up those spiffy shiny new Compact Flash cards (oh, how you know how I love to run out of Compact Flash cards. Sadly, even the shiny new ones don't stay new for long around the likes of me.)

The trouble with shooting all new stuff all of the time is that it's a never ending stream of work and you don't always have time to process it. We shoot so much as photographers that we don't always have time to "mentally" process the work, to ask ourselves those important questions. What are we doing with this? Where are we going with this? How is this working? It's all just shoot more, more, more, better, faster, now. Oh, I have this new lens I want to try out, here let me...

Revising old work has a big advantage. There's an old saying that, "time heals all wounds." While that may be true, it's also true that time works to an advantage for photographers. In many cases, time can help you distance yourself (emotionally) from the work. What I mean by that is, when I was fresh off the boat from Venice, my mind was full of "recent memories" of Venice. I still had the taste of the food in my mouth, I remembered (vividly) the people I saw there, the things I experienced. My brain was full of these "recent memories." Over time, these memories fade and get pushed back, perhaps replaced by new, more recent trips, or just relegated to the back of the "long-term memory" pile (along with that recipe for pot roast and, I'm sure, more than a few others things I probably should just forget.)

With that time, with that distance, with the emotional detachment comes a critical eye.

What I mean by that is that now, at this very time, I can honest sit down and critique my Venice work. I can look at it and process it and approach it with a fresh eye. I don't have the same emotions running through my veins. I don't remember (or don't remember quite as vividly) the fresh taste of pasta or the fresh smell of the incense burning in the cathedrals. I've pushed some of those experiences away and can now (more freely) concentrate on the work. The work itself sits before me more barren and I'm able to wrap my head around it better somehow, now that all of those other memories are slightly gone or just pushed back more into the recesses of my thoughts.

There's also less pressure, right? I mean, I don't *have* to produce ten or twenty or whatever perfectly composted beautifully exposed images of Venice on the spot, in order to satisfy some burning need of the Internet or the gallery owners who carry my work or the patron who heard I just got back from...and wants some images for his new summer home. No, they've all had their fill of "Venice" from me eons ago and have now moved on (of course, they are now demanding work from Iceland or points next in travels on my list, so maybe this works against me too but, you know, if I can sneak in an upload or two from "old" Venice, hey, more power to me, right?)

That emotional detachment though, that's really powerful stuff. At least for me, I can really have a fresh eye on things. I actually find it hard to work on images sometimes while I am traveling. It happened to me in Iceland anyway. I reached a point where I had shot so much, I had so many experiences, and the place was so *different* I just couldn't mentally process it anymore. I just couldn't do it. I reached a point where I just did not want to look at one more of my images from Iceland at all, at least not until the plane touched back in JFK. Now, of course, I'm itching to go back and visit Iceland again because, as we all know, it's a wonderful country. But that detachment? Yes, that feeling stays with me. I'm sure that, a few years from now, I'll be pulling something out of my Iceland shots and thinking, "Damn! Why didn't I see this back two years ago when I was there." Unfortunately, this is how the process sometimes works and we have to accept it. While I'm on location, of course, I always keep shooting but I don't always like to shoot, process, post to the Internets so quickly. Sometimes, I like my images, like my thoughts too, to stew for a little bit longer.

As a teacher, I encourage my students to never throw anything out. Never, ever delete shots. Don't delete off the card, don't delete off the hard drive, just don't, ok? Hard drives are cheap. The price of that "fresh eye" that comes from leaving stuff in a drawer for years and then re-discovering it as new? Yeah, that's really expensive and hard to come by. Trust me on that one.

In the days of film, we used to say that "film was cheap" and it was. Or it wasn't. It was actually kind of expensive in hindsight but not as expensive as your time and energy and effort that goes into crafting work. Getting the shot? Yeah, that's priceless compared to the cost of the film. That comes at a steep price and, sometimes, you have to get it when you can. That's why I recommend you never delete and always plan on re-visiting.

Another thing that might happen to you is that, not only do your loose an emotional attachment to the work, but your tastes change over the years. What you are shooting now you might not be shooting two years from now. Many photographers look back upon their old work and cringe. You might think this is a good reason to delete things too but again, here, you'd be wrong. It isn't. The "going back and cringing" part, you see, that's part of artistic development. We all grow as artists. Yes, it might be true that my images from two years ago or five years ago or, in this case, 2005 don't look all *that* different from my images of today but stop and think about this for a minute. I've been shooting for more than 20 years. At this point in my artistic development, changes happen much more gradually. I'm not going to change overnight, it might take me decades. Somebody who just picked up a camera? Yeah, their work on Tuesday might look very different from their work on Thursday. That's just how it goes. We learn faster and more in the beginning. It's stacked that way for a reason. In a way, that's sort of lucky, otherwise we'd never get good at anything quickly enough. But we do still learn and continue to learn. I'm always learning and growing as an artist. Yes, even me, she who has been shooting for 20+ years can still see things with a fresh eye, especially when I add new life experiences into the mix. We all change as people too and, what we once saw as important yesterday, hey, tomorrow, not so much.

If all of that weren't enough, things like Photoshop and our computers change at a rapid pace too. What you can do today in Photoshop was unimaginable a few years ago and, I'm fairly certain about this, what we'll be able to do tomorrow or next week or even five years from now is going to drastically change as well. There's another reason to "keep and don't delete" your work, you don't even know what "your work" will look like or what you'll be able to do with it just a few years from now.

A lot of folks, myself included, work with alternative process stuff. We bleach prints. We print on odd papers. We collage. Do encaustics. This is another reason to never delete. That big "mistake" shot of 2009 might just morph itself into your best encaustic piece or a really great element for a collage. You never know when you're going to take up doing collage or encaustics or whatever and you never know what raw materials you might need at some point in the future. As far as photography goes, it pays to be a sort of "image pack rat" and just keep everything. You thought about taking the picture, pulling the trigger on that shutter button for a reason. That reason didn't change. It's still there. You might as well keep the picture too, right? Even those shots you maybe took by accident, hey, sometimes accidents happen for a reason. I'm a firm believer in that. You get the images you're supposed to get, when you are supposed to get them. Sometimes this is even out of our control. I often feel like there is an endless stream of images flying by in the universe and I stop to "pluck out" the lucky ones I'm supposed to get, nothing more, nothing less. If you think of each one as a gift, you don't want to delete any of them as well you shouldn't. They were given to you for a reason maybe you just don't know what that reason is quite yet. Over time, things like this tend to become more clear.

So, for all these reasons and more, I hope you'll reconsider deleting your images. I hope you'll stop and think about this, maybe even just think a little bit more before removing them. And I certainly hope you'll revisit some of your older images. Got an image from 2005 that you like? The digital camera craze has been around for a few years now and, for those who have been shooting through this time, they now have quite a stash, a backlog of sorts, of images. Look through them and tell me what you think, show me what you find. Dig out your "old furnace" and show me what you've got. Who knows? It just might be a little lost gem you can now treasure for years going forward.

Until next time...

Opening New Doors/Ending November

2011-11-30T07:15:00.002-06:00

, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Today, I'm very tempted to slap up a post entitled "I Won! I Won!" on account of the fact that this marks my 30th National Blog Posting Month post. And, yes, if you're counting (or even keeping score) this "officially" means that I've won the "competition" yet again this year. But there's something about winning this year that leaves me feeling a bit, shall we say, hollow.

For starters, many folks who participate in NaBloPoMo are sort of what the Internets like to call "Mommy Bloggers." You know the type I'm talking about here. The 3 am, "oh! I just burped my new baby son Mark!" kind of blog posters. While I certainly respect motherhood and all of the duties it entails (I can't image a "profession" that is less well-paid or under-appreciated actually) I'm sorry but I just don't spend countless hours a day reading up about the lives of Mark or Sally or "the twins" or anybody who is "outnumbered" by their children. You opted to stay at home and have children, please don't blame me if the only "excitement" you now get in your life is an occasional blog post to an otherwise uninterested Internet. Frankly, I've got better things to do with my time and, in case you could not tell, don't really encourage all that much interaction with these types of bloggers (although, I'm the first to admit, some of them, and a do mean a select few here, are quite good writers. I have browsed some of these "Mommy blogs" in the past and found a few gems, surprises and such, but I find it difficult if not impossible to regularly do this given the time constraints of being a working artist. In case you could not guess from reading this, my art and photography take up most of my waking hours, often leaving me little time to do things like sleep or eat, let alone surf the web reading about Mark, "the twins" or anyone else for that matter.)

If the propensity of "Mommy Bloggers" were not enough, I feel as if I've sort of outgrown the "competition" itself. I think I have participated now maybe 6 or 7 times and I've "won" every single time I've started. It's really not all that challenging to me to post once a day, every day for a month. In fact, I could probably do this for six months and still not run out of things to say. I noticed this year, on the BlogHer website (this year's host site for the NaBloPoMo competition) that they are posting things like "writing prompts." Maybe I'm stating the obvious here, but I really don't need a "writing prompt" to do this. Every year I do the competition, I "assign" myself a topic of interest-this year was music-and I've noticed too how I hardly fall back upon this theme or I fall back upon it less and less. This year, for example, I had so much to share, so much to write about, I hardly talked about music at all (did I ever? At any one point, in this year's competition, did I even mention music? Have to check but, mmmm. really don't think so and, if I did it was not too much.) It's not much of a challenge for me to write about my selected topic anymore, let alone just to splash up thirty or so odd posts across the time span of a month.

Then there's the issue of quality. Actually, NaBloPoMo, National Novel Writing Month, and all of these so-called "competitions" leave this out across the board. I tend to aim for quality not quantity. So much of social media is geared towards a model of "success" that centers around raw numbers. I don't want to have 10,000 Twitter followers if there are no other artists or art patrons on Twitter. If my fans, and I mean my true fans (actual fans of my art and photography, not just passers-by or folks really interested in reading about Paris Hilton who accidentally stumbled upon my site instead) aren't reading here, then I'm not doing my job and, if they aren't using a particular outlet of social media (like, say, Twitter) then I'm not going to use it either.

Actually, Twitter is a poor example here because, at least the way I have been using Twitter, I have a core group of select followers on Twitter. And they are all artists and patrons. It's working well for me, Twitter is. Twitter, however, provides me something Blogger cannot. I can control who follows me on Twitter, I have less control (if any control) over who happens to click on by my blog. Because of that, yes, I'm sure I'll get the occasional "Mommy Blogger" stopping in, usually this marks a feeble attempt at mooching traffic from my site, but these people too usually dry up and go away, if for no other reason that the fact that we don't share the same core audience.

Sorry to be the one to inform you, if you haven't figured it out already, but the folks interested in reading a "Mommy Blog" or reading about Paris Hilton's escapades are not going to be interested in reading my site and won't be regular readers here. Likewise, the folks who do read here regularly won't be the slightest bit tempted by comment lures like, "check out my new site to find out news about..." If it isn't related to art or photography in some way, you aren't going to get a lot of traffic and I don't strive to have ten million followers a la Kim Kardashian so there really isn't even a lot of traffic to lure. Those looking to mooch traffic from my site usually turn away empty-handed because, frankly, there just isn't all that much traffic to mooch and, in case you could not tell by the banner, descriptions and all, this is a site devoted to art and photography. It's a personal journal about my life as a working artist. It's always been quite personal, I've not really tried to drive a mass of traffic here, and I use it simply as a means to share what is happening in my art world with my patrons, students, friends, and family. If I sometimes sell a print or two, hey, that's great too, but that's not really why I'm here and that's not really why my "regulars" are here either. To put it bluntly, you will get better results and we will all be happier if you go and sell your news about Kim Kardashian's wedding (or divorce) elsewhere.

When I first started writing Carol's Little World (and yes, I do mean "writing" as pictures were not even available back in those early days) my intentions were clear. To post here my thoughts, to make this a bit of a personal journal. I have always wanted this to be something like an on-line diary of sorts. I never proofread, I have tons of type-o's but that's not why I'm here either. I don't "polish" my writing here-it's off the shelf, off the cuff banter, a slice of life, a post here or there about what is happening in my own little world. It wasn't designed to be a novel in the making, nor is it a textbook. If you want to learn about equipment, if you want a photography teacher, if you want somebody to show you how to paint, etc. it might help in those regards but you'd probably be better off taking one of my classes or taking a class in your local area. I don't try to inform, educate, or entice. My blog, for me anyway, has always been a personal journal. I concentrate on sharing a little bit about my day or something that's happening, going on in my world, something I think might be funny, fun, entertaining, and the like. I seldom spend more than five to ten minutes per post and I seldom put too much thought into my posts. It's usually just off the cuff banter centered around what is going on in my life at any given moment. That's all it started out to be, that's all this site was meant to be, and maybe that's all it ever will become. I maintain other sites, like HouseOfCarol.com if you want a "storefront" (really want to buy some of my work) and I have other hang-outs on the web (like Facebook) if you really want to talk to me in more of a "real time" kind of a way. This is, and sort of always has been, a kitchen table of sorts. It's a behind-the scenes look at what it's like to be an artist and photographer, it's my personal journey, it's my diary, it's a slice of my life and that's all I intend it to be. I'm not trying to turn a book deal, get "noticed" by anybody "big" in the industry, or anything like that. There are other, better outlets for things like that. This is my kitchen table and I welcome any and all who want to share in that but I also recognize it's a small group and probably always will be a small group of core folks interested in what I have to say and share. Not all that many people are truly interested in a behind-the scenes look at art and photography and most who are, well, they are busying doing it themselves too, not reading up on blogs like this one (although, as we know, more then a few of them check in from time to time here. *Waves*)

So, while I may have "won" National Blog Posting Month this month, I don't really feel like this is a true "win" in fact, I'm probably going to move on to bigger and better things next year. Basically, I feel as if I've outgrown the "competition" of sorts and diverged over time from what it was intended to be. I recognize that some of you might be disappointed and there is an entire year (well, eleven months) left before I have to sign-up again, which leaves a lot of time for me to change my mind but, for all of these reasons and more, this November, while it marks my "winning" NaBloPoMo might also mark my last NaBloPoMo at least for a while.

I am happy and do share with all of those who have "won" the competition again this year. It is a job well-done and it is worth the effort to craft and write more posts to one's blog for most people. I hope you enjoyed National Blog Posting Month in some small way this year as well, and I wish the good folks that run it nothing but success in their future competitions. I do also cordially welcome any new followers to this, my own little world, because it is great fun and there is, as they say, never a dull moment.

Well, maybe there won't be any dull moments until November rolls around yet again next year. Hey, we can all hope, right?

Until next time...

A Tale of Fifty Five Artists

2011-11-29T06:58:00.002-06:00

TwoBirds, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Yesterday, I was speaking with a friend about the state of the economy and the art world. This down economy can actually be helpful to some artists. For those willing to stay the course, stick to their guns, this is an opportunity of sorts. "In good times," I said, "it's hard, sometimes impossible to get into galleries or shows." It's true. The same galleries that will look at your work now won't give you the time of day in a booming economy. And, I can vividly recall a period of time when everybody was out on the Internets complaining of how they could not get into shows. It's a time in the not-to-distant past, and I remember it oh so well (unfortunately.) Also, in these down times, with the stock market being so wild, many people opt to invest in artwork. It's something a bit more tangible than a stock certificate and it's something that will hold its value over time. There are only so many Monets, Van Goghs, etc. in the world. Likewise, even contemporary artwork provides a lot of "bang for the buck" here because it tends to appreciate a lot quicker than some of the work from established artists. A Monet is already worth it's asking price of, say 14 million dollars, but the guy (or gal) who invests in a $2500 painting today only to find out that, in ten years, yeah it's work $80,000? That's somebody who has made money in the art world. This also has the little added "bonus" that you get to keep the artwork all of that time. You get to hang something in your house and rub it in the noses of all of your friends. Imagine how that goes. "Oh yes," you can casually say, "this is my [John Smith] original!" Won't you look like the smart investor (and art collector) in front of all your friends at dinner parties and such.

While this may be true, I had another surprise yesterday. As you know, it seems I have had some work accepted into the local holiday show at the Austin Visual Arts Association gallery space over at Austin Art Space. Now, I've told you this news already (the reception is on Thursday for those in the know) so I won't go into details about that again but there is something about this show that comes as a bit of a shock to me.

The shock, as it were, is that there are over fifty, I think over fifty five artists accepted into this show. Fifty five artists? In one show? In a down economy? And that's not counting the ones who did not make it into the show. (Imagine the rejection pile is even bigger.) Seriously, fifty five artists is more than half as large as the East Austin Studio Tour. That's massive! That's a lot of artists. In a down economy, I can hardly believe that there are fifty five artists doing a small holiday show and sale down at my local art studio and gallery. I mean, this is not MOMA or the Guggenheim, we're talking Austin Art Space here. Yeowza! That's a lot of artists.

And therein lies the surprise.

I'm shocked that we have so many artists, so many working professional artists in Austin. Shocked really doesn't begin to cover it actually. It's astounding how many artists there are out there.

This got me to thinking. How does one stand apart from that pack? How does one go about "making it" when there are so many, oh so many, lined up, waiting patiently in line alongside, waiting to "make it" as well? It boggles the mind really, even thinking about that.

It's something I hadn't given much through before really. I mean, Austin has always been a smaller-ish town, even if we sometimes have events like EAST, many of the artists tend to know each other. We hang out in these little "hovels" like AVAA where you can safely do things like life drawing or confess that you really enjoy the smell of darkroom developer in the morning, and nobody thinks any worse of you for it. We go to the DAC, we visit Congress Avenue, we tend to stay in our "neat" little artist "boxes" which tuck nicely into the fabric of our quaint little city. Everything's so neat and tidy, you could almost wrap it up in a holiday bow, yes, that's how the Austin art scene actually is.

With so many artists out in the great blue yonder, it's hard to stand apart, and this has given me a bit of a pause today. It drives home that point they always make about "branding" and "professionalism" and all of that. In order to make it, you need not only leg work, not only a "product" you can believe in, but you need to stand out, break away from all of the others in your field. Originality, it would appear, gets rewarded.

That's my thought for the day today. This is certainly a topic I will re-visit again at another time, perhaps after I've given it a bit more thought, but I wanted to share this with you today too, in order to get you thinking about it as well. And I'd certainly be up for some pointers. How do you stand out? How do you break away from the pack? Have you noticed your "pack" growing larger and larger in recent times or is it just me? Perhaps Austin is a growing city and that's part of what I'm seeing actually happen here? Maybe I've just not noticed it before? It's surprising for me to say the least.

Jack Kerouac once said, "“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”

Today anyway, I'm starting to think he was right about that.

Until next time...

Fun Parts

2011-11-28T06:27:00.002-06:00

Fun parts, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Jerry Garcia, guitar player for the band Grateful Dead, once commented, "I don't know what the appeal of a Grateful Dead show is, I've never watched one." He's right about that, of course, having never gotten to watch one because he was always part of the act.

One of the problems with the big, wonderful East Austin Studio Tour is that, as an artist, I want to go and checkout all of the neat artwork. I want to go and see everything, at least as much as I can, but I have the strange problem of having to sit next to my own work. It's not always really possible to leave your "booth duty" at EAST to, well, to go and check out EAST (oddly enough.) This year, I did manage to break away a little bit, here and there, to go and check out some work on display. At one point, I made it over to the glass blowing studio, which I was very happy to see, since I had not seen it before.

One of the things you might not know about me (or maybe you do) is that I'm oddly fascinated with glass blowing. I love the entire concept of glass blowing, of making art glass, and such. The idea that somebody turns molten fire into beautiful glass is just astounding to me. I love it. I would imagine it's close to the feeling we get doing encaustics-turning a molten hot lava into paint and then making art with it. That's amazing really, if you think about it. So, I was very happy I got to go and check out some of the glass studios, as I love this form of artwork.

I had already decided I was not going to photograph the glass studios (no, this would be a photo shoot best left for another day.) If I had stopped to take pictures, why, I'd probably still be there. So, instead, I resolved myself to just walk through and take it all in.

It was just as amazing as I thought it would be. Bits of colored glass all over the place. Finished pieces strewn about next to works-in-progress. It was fun to wander around the ovens and see some of the places where they can actually blow, heat, or otherwise work with the glass, not to mention they had a great studio area with glass "leaves" hanging on the wall. They were amazing really. I've love to get lost in that place, especially if I had a camera in hand.

As we were leaving the glass place, I noticed this rack of shelving. It was very clearly labeled (gosh, I wish my studio were so labeled) with items to be used in glass blowing. Stuff like ball baring bits and other assorted "mix ins." That's when I saw this label and I knew, instantly I knew, I had to break my "no photos rule" just for this. I mean, who in their right mind could pass up a sign that reads: "FUN PARTS" right?

This is FUN PARTS on the hipsta.

In case you're wondering, I think there were some marbles in there. Yes, yes, it's true, somebody actually lost their marbles. Actually, come to think of it, somebody put their marbles in a bin and neatly labeled them as "FUN PARTS" but that doesn't change the fact that, somewhere out there, in the wild blue yonder, is somebody missing some marbles.

At this point, I have to ask, I mean I really just have to beg of you. If you've seen my marbles, please, oh please, won't you put them in the FUN PARTS bin? I think they'd belong in there with, you know, with the other odd assorted FUN PARTS, don't you? So, if you find any, please leave them in there, in this bin, so that I might know where to look. I mean, you wouldn't want me to lose my marbles now, would you? (Of course, I say this like I have marbles to begin with. HA! Even so, if you find them please, you know, politely and quietly into the bin with them, ok?)

We thank you in advance for your cooperation.

--The Management

Plans for Professionalism

2011-11-27T14:58:00.002-06:00

Earth-Glacier_3958, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I get asked a lot and I'm sure it's on many people's minds, "How do you turn professional?" Many people, it would appear, want to "make it" as an artist or photographer and maybe don't know how or don't know how to go about getting started. I've talked some about this on the blog in the past and I thought that, now with the season turning, the new year starting, and all, it might be a good time to re-visit this topic. So, here goes.

For starters, it helps if you have a definitive body of work. What I mean by that is that you have some "style" of work, some sort of "collection" of say 20 images that are somewhat cohesive in nature. A lot of people are great shooters, and, yes, you can make a career out of shooting this and that but starting with a defined "body of work" is a great place to start. It's much easier to market, that's for sure. And, my painterly friends, don't go thinking you are "off the hook" here because you work in paint or some other media that's not photography. You want to start off with some body of work that's say 20 paintings all the same size, media, and basic "technique." You basically want to start off with a body of work that looks like the same artist created it and, it really helps here, if it's large enough to fill a gallery space (that's why I suggest 20 pieces, although it could be more or less, obviously, depending upon if you work very large or small scale.)

Given that you have a defined body of work, how does one get started? I now offer up some pointers.

The East Austin Studio Tour (EAST) was a great opportunity for artists to sort of "spring board" but what if you don't have an "EAST" where you live? Do some research and legwork here-find a local group, maybe a photo group that does some shows or a painting group that you can join to organize shows. Also, find out about local art tours in your area. That's always a great place to start.
Just finding these local opportunities is not enough. You need to prepare yourself for them. Have some business cards done up along with some postcards or handouts/flyers, anything you can hand out to tell folks more about your artwork. If you can manage it, do a Blurb book of your artwork. Even if you don't sell the Blurb book, have one copy available as a "display copy" so that you can present your work in a formal format.
Websites! This is so important. A blog (like this one) is great but everybody really needs a website as a springboard. Now, you might be thinking that this is really too difficult or expensive for you to manage-it doesn't have to be. In fact, some of the websites I recommend are not at all that expensive and they provide you with the best marketing available. If you can't afford anything, start with Google pages (those are very close to being free.) I use VisualServer from the folks at PhotoEye books in Santa Fe and highly recommend them but there are a few other outfits you can check out as well. BigBlackBag.com is another one of my favorites as is Foliolink. I recommend going with a website that does not use Flash but also one that has templates you really like. Browse the sample websites here and find one that really "wows" you and then basically use the same style of templates to build your own. This will be time well-spent, trust me. Nothing pulls in more sales, traffic, or just basic "attention" than a well-crafted website and the prices of these "template driven" websites have come down, way down, to the point where they are not affordable.
On your business cards, include your name, website address, telephone (if you are so-inclined) email address and sample images. I use Moo.com for great looking business cards as they are affordable and provide you the opportunity to do different images on the cards. On my Moo cards, I have the following information: My name, my business name (or studio name, in my case: "Carol's Little World") my telephone number (including area code) my email, my website address (in my case: "HouseOfCarol.com") and my blog address (since my blog gets a lot of traffic and it's separate traffic, I decided to include it on my business cards.)
Use an image hosting/print sales site such as ImageKind. Etsy also works here and there are also several juried on-line sites you can frequent to get your work more "out there." These sites work well because they allow you to sell prints directly to customers. I try to avoid selling prints of work that I'm doing in gallery shows on these type of sites but these sites are good for things like older work or work that you shoot specifically for them. The idea here is to have some kind of an on-line presence and to be able to find your work in a multitude of ways, not just through your own personal website.
Teaching-explore teaching opportunities. It wasn't until recently that I realized teaching is a great way to get more folks to look at your website, to purchase prints, etc. not to mention it gives you a built-in set of followers and a back-up income. All of that, plus you get to share your know how with a budding group of artists or photographers. For all of these reasons, I recommend teaching in a local studio, gallery, art school, or community college setting if you can manage it. (Many of these programs are offered in the evenings and on Saturdays, so they will not take away from your "day job" and you might find the extra income useful for doing things like getting a new printer or buying that new lens you've always wanted.)
Load up your work-This might seem obvious to some and unheard of to others but load up a portable hard drive (doesn't have to be a large one-you can get a 250 GB drive these days on the cheap) with some of your best work. Carry it around with you on your laptop and be prepared to send out work often. Those times when you're waiting for that morning coffee could be better spent at Starbucks by uploading some images or submitting some images to shows for consideration. This will help you be location independent, portable, and also organize your work better.
Workshops-think about starting workshops. This kind of work can be difficult to get but it's worthwhile and there seems to be a never-ending market for workshop instructors. Try to team up with somebody who is doing workshops or attend a few workshops so that you can see how they run and how to run one smoothly. I'm a big fan of the workshop experience and while I'm not running ones of my own, could really see how I might do this someday if I really were interested in pursuing this type of opportunity. Places like the Santa Fe workshops and the Maine Media Workshops are great places to start but there are also tons of others out there, so look around, be selective, and find the ones that interest you.
Increase on-line presence-the on-line market is really just a series of eyes upon your work and it can be difficult to translate those "eyes" into page clicks and then additionally into purchases or solid leads for your work. Sign up for something like iContact or ConstantContact and begin growing an on-line database contact list of sorts. Organize this and watch it grow, as care and feeding of a list like this makes a career. Many galleries are famous not so much for the work they show but more for the list of collectors they keep and you should start to do the same thing if you want to be successful.
Find a local market-in my case Houston is not too far away so it would be in my better interest to try and get myself into the Houston market. Research galleries there, go gallery hopping, load up websites of artists who regularly show there and poke around some to see what it takes to tap into sometime like this, a local or regionally well-known market for your work.
Do some 1-person shows-try to get a 1-person show of your work by approaching galleries. Do this once you have your business cards and website complete. Organize your website along the lines of a gallery submission packet, including your C.V., artist statement, and information about your work. What's that you say? You don't have an artist statement? Oh, get used to writing them. Go on, do it now. You have ten minutes. GO! (Hint: don't muss and fuss, read a bunch of others and come up with something you can live with for starters. Let your body of work guide you on this one.)
It helps to come up with a "generic" artist statement in case your tongue gets tied. You can do this in addition to coming up with an artist statement for each body of work that you complete. Here's another hint: get used to writing and talking about your work. You will not be a success, you will never "go far" in this crazy art world if you cannot do the basics like write about or talk about your work. Accept that now and get over it. Either learn to do it and do it now or accept the fact that you will be a bank teller or waitress for the rest of your life (spoken with apologies to bank tellers and waitresses here-I have a great deal of respect for what it is you do, it's just that we artist types want to do something different with our lives.)
Social media-don't neglect Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, Blurb, and the rest of the lot. When I say, "don't neglect" I actually mean "don't neglect" although I find way too many artists putting this type of marketing first. If you don't have a body of work, if you don't have an elevator speech, if you don't have a clear artist statement and a general "direction" for what it is you are trying to do, these type of social media outlets will only be a waste of your time. Focus on the important stuff first, then do this, but, you know, don't forget to do this too.
Don't neglect advertising-there are many outlets that will provide ads and places for you to advertise. Don't neglect ads. Spending $100 on a ad in your local art rag might be more productive for you, and might reach more eyes than say spending hours on Facebook, especially if you find yourself talking only to your own friends on Facebook. If an ad allows you to reach news eyes and you can afford it, go for it.
Reach out of your comfort zone-figure out how to print, matte, frame, and ship your work. Start doing shows outside of your local area and outside of your local art market. Use resources like ArtCalendar and ArtDeadline to find out about shows and opportunities and get your work out there. Some of these, many of these in fact will have a fee attached. That's part of doing business. The fact is, it costs money to apply for some shows and you should be prepared for this. I usually recommend students prepare themselves to send out about 4-10 opportunities a month, some of which come with a $35 or even a $50 fee. I'm sorry to say but many galleries, especially the ones that make money, won't even look at your work for free.
Do as many shows as you can and keep track of all of the shows you wind up doing. Keep a detailed C.V. listing the shows, locations, dates, jurors, and relevant information for all of the shows that include your work. Just as having a detailed database is important, this is going to be your calling card of sorts. Most galleries only want to do shows with people who have done shows before so it's important that you keep an accurate record of all of the shows you have been in. Don't leave anything out, no matter how small, especially as you are just starting out. So what if you can only get into a restaurant show right now, list that proudly on your C.V. as the next guy applying for the slot might not even have a restaurant show to his name. Aim for getting into bigger and better venues but keep track of the smaller ones too.
Consider branching out into merchandising-stuff like calendars, T-shirts, etc. if you can afford them are also a great way to get your brand out there.
Lastly, consider charity and pro bono work. While this is not the best way to sell work, it can be really helpful if you are just getting started. Don't have any shows to your name? Consider doing some mail art shows and donated a matted/framed print to a charity auction. It's a great way to support a cause you care for as well as get a show/line item listed on your C.V. Besides, I can't imagine something more suitable to get your branding out there-imagine if you will an underwater photographer who regularly donates to the "Save the Manatee" organizations or a portrait artist specializing in children who does something like the Heart Gallery or helps out adoption causes? That's a great way to brand yourself without investing much money and it's a great way to help out a cause you can believe in.

I hope this helps or at least gives you something to think about. It's a lot to digest but I'm sure it's a great place to start if you haven't thought much about it before or if you are just getting started down the road to turning pro. I'd also be curious to hear some other techniques you might have tried that worked for you, either positively or negatively so for my artist friends, please feel free to drop me a line with any additional pointers so I can include them the next time I prepare a list like this one, for those just starting out as professionals.

Until next time...

More Show News

2011-11-26T01:07:00.002-06:00

PinkSunset, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I just found out that I'll have some work included in the upcoming 12BUY12 juried show sponsored by the Austin Visual Arts Association. The work will be a 12x12 encaustic panel (encaustic on board actually) pulled from my latest "Sunset" series.

The details for the show are:
"12BUY12" 7th Annual Holiday Art Show & Sale @ Austin Art Space Gallery & Studios

Exhibition Dates: Dec. 1 - Jan. 7, 2011 Reception: Thursday, Dec. 1, 2011 6:00-8:00 p.m.

Other than that, it's a quiet rainy night here in Austin. Yes, I said rainy, as it's really coming down now where I live. Since I've been home, I have to say I've done little other than curl up with some good reading. Right now, I'm reading "The Man in the White Suit" from The Stig (AKA Ben Collins.) I'm really enjoying spending time home, resting up, doing little, eating when I want to, and playing a lot with Chase. It's been a great holiday so far, which is good, because I have every indication that it's going to be a crazy end of the year and probably a crazy new year as well.

...Off to read some more and settle in for the night!

Until next time...

Happy Black Friday

2011-11-25T11:02:00.003-06:00

ShoppersNo2_4308, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

While I'm not a big fan of shopping in the "big box" stores, I thought I might help out some folks who might otherwise be stuck this holiday season. (I don't mind calling it the "holiday season" now that, officially, Thanksgiving is over here in the US.) Today is a special day in the US. It's called "Black Friday" and it's marked by people going out, filling up the stores, buying Christmas presents.

For those of you who might be shopping for artists or photographers this year, I thought I would provide some guidance. So, without further ado or fanfare, here are some shopping ideas for those on your list inclined to be on the artistic side.

Gifts for Artists

This year, at the East Austin Studio Tour, Yupo paper was very popular, so I might start off with some of that. You can read more about Yupo paper here but basically Yupo is, "a synthetic paper, machine-made in the USA of 100% polypropylene. It is waterproof, stain resistant, and extremely strong and durable. [It] resists tearing and buckling and remains perfectly flat, eliminating the need for soaking, stretching, or taping. Watercolor professionals have found Yupo to be receptive to a variety of aqueous techniques, but it is also ideal for offset printing, silkscreen, debossing, drawing, acrylic painting, and more." Not to mention, you know, it's kind of cheap, starting at about $3 a sheet.
Moleskine Journals-Perhaps made famous by The Sketchbook Project (heh, probably not) these personal journals come in all shapes and sizes and provide the budding artist, journalist, writer, or traveler with the perfect place to jot down notes, collect ideas, or sketch. You can also doodle in them in case, you know, "sketching" sounds too formal for you. More information on the Moleskines can be found here for the curious.
Moo giftcards-Moo, yes, as in, "the sound a cow makes." While I've had to explain this website to many people multiple times (yes, it's really called just 'Moo' google it if you don't believe me.") I've never had to explain the quality business cards, postcards, and "half" cards (called "Moo cards" by those in the know) produced by these good folks. The folks at Moo really can produce 100 cards with 100 different pictures on them. They really do make wonderful high quality cards, postcards, stickers, labels, and the like, and they really are that inexpensive to get some. And, yes, their website really is named after the sound a cow makes. Moo business cards are tops in my books for artists, so I'd recommend you get a gift certificate from Moo as a good artist gift if you really don't know what to get that whacky artist friend of yours who plans on selling homemade hand-painted brick-a-brack over the Internets this holiday season.
Watercolor brush with water container-a popular brand is the Koi Water Brush found here but these watercolor brushes with water containers make great gifts for any artist.
Ampersand Art Boards-available in a variety of shapes and sizes, Ampersand Art Boards make wonderful surfaces for artists to work. They come in a variety of surface options but basically have you covered if the artist on your list works in waters, oils, acrylics, pastels, encaustics, or a variety of media.
NuPastel small sets-these are now available in places you might not expect, such as Office Depot stores but NuPasels are used for a variety of illustration purposes as well as by artists when they want something that looks a bit like a soft pastel but it a lot easier to clean up. More information here for the curious.
Watercolor pencil sets-not just for watercolor artists anymore, these versatile pencils can be used in a variety of applications. For those inclined to try life drawing, the watercolor pencils can be added to give a color pop to base charcoal drawings. They are especially fun when combined with the Moleskine journals to create a nice sketchbook combo suitable for travel.
Hake brushes-not just for calligraphy anymore, these versatile natural hair brushes can be used for encaustics, watercolors, or as a general "wash" brush. The bamboo style handles are quite comfortable and the brushes are quite versatile for any artist friend on your list this year.
Shiva sticks-Like oil paint on a stick, these artist sticks are dry to the touch in 24 hours and suitable for oil painters, encaustic work, or others who need a swath of oil in their life. They come in convenient sets and, according to the website "colors can be spread or blended with a brush, knife, or Colorless Blender. The colors are completely compatible and can be blended with any oil paints. Use turpentine to thin. Paintstik colors are self-sealing — just peel off the film before each use. There are no unpleasant odors or fumes, so you can paint virtually anywhere, at any time, and on almost any surface: canvas, paper, wood, plastic, metal, and fabric. Non-toxic and hypo-allergenic." Sounds good to me.
Gift basket of foam brushes, turpenoid, cleaners, soap, spot remover-What artist does not need these things? This "basket" can easily be made up of items purchased at your local hobby, craft, or art supply store. Extra points if you skip the "basket" and otherwise manage to fit everything into the back of a blank canvas or perhaps even some type of framing kit.
Bamboo frames-What artist does not need a frame? These sustainable frames now come in all shapes, sizes, and, yes, even colors to match the wonderful creations the artist on your list is going to make this holiday season. Check with your local framing supply store, art supplier, or even craft store to find the latest in "green" frames that, well really come in all sorts of colors.

For Photographers on Your List

Blurb gift card-nothing screams "I'm a photographer!" like presenting your very own Blurb book. These high quality books come in all shapes and sizes, ranging in price from under $10 to hundreds of dollars for hundreds of pages of Blurb book goodness. While gift cards might not be the most personal item to purchase, supporting the photographer on your list by encouraging a personal book might be just the holiday ticket this year, not to mention you can set your own price.
Think Tank Photo Bag in Twill-Nothing screams "I'm a photographer mug me!" quite like a bulky camera bag with a giant "Canon" or "Nikon" logo plastered across the front of it. Luckily, the folks at Think Tank photo have come up with a solution I like to call the "non-camera camera bag." Called their "Retrospective" line these camera bags offer up a taste of both style and substance, as they don't look like your grandfather's butt ugly camera bag yet they somehow hold all of your newfangled DSLR and multiple lenses without making you look like a cluttered ape.
Moo giftcard-Not just for artists, Moo cards allow photographers to hand out their credentials to passers-by without having to break the bank on fancy expensive business cards.
Anything from the Lomo Store-While I'm partial to the shiny new Diana cameras, these "cult of lomography" store folks have plenty to offer up in their gift shop. Most of their items are low-fi and come with a price that doesn't break the bank, not to mention it's just a lot of fun in Lomo land.
ICP gift certificate-Likewise, the ICP people have tons of camera-related items including bags, totes, hats, T-shirts, earrings, and, of course, ubercool photo books. Go on, you know you want to look now.
Colored flashlights-While this might not sound like a gift for photographers, the idea of an LED flashlight that spits out 10 different colors is totally spiffy for the "paint with light" photographer crowd. Available in multiple sites around the 'Net (see ThinkGeek here) these flashlights can be a lot of fun even for those who don't do long exposure work.
Gorilla pods-Joby's original sort of tripod like entanglement of legs provides a wonderful second tripod even for those who have one and can act as a great travel tripod, around the house tripod or even iPad tripod (try saying that 10x fast!) Available in a multitude of shapes and sizes, the trusty GorillaPod comes with a pricetag that can't be beat. These are also available in some camping stores, such as REI and also LLBean as well as most photography outlets and even some "big box" type of stores.
Metallic paper for the inkjet lover out there-The new crop of metallic papers that are suitable for inkjet use would make an excellent gift or even stocking stuffer. Available in a multitude of sizes and even "metallic" colors (such as gold or silver) this might be the perfect gift for that photographer friend who has everything (or thinks he has everything) but has been itching to try something new.
Cute lens cleaning cloth in a can-JillE makes a cute lens cleaning cloth and you can also get one at Amazon.com (see here for details.) These always make great little gifts are are often something photographers don't buy for themselves.
Monopod with "feet"-harder to describe than it is to look at these monopods are smaller and lighter than tripods yet can be just as handy. I look to use something like this especially when traveling or working indoors where a full-sized tripod might be a bit too clumsy. More of a specialty item, you might have to shop for something like this on-line but it would make for a fun, affordable gift for that photographer friend on your list.

I hope I have given you some shopping ideas for the artist or photographer on your list and I hope you have a great, happy Black Friday even if you are not shopping at all.

Until next time...

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T06:08:00.002-06:00

Curly Sweet Chase in the Sunlight, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

My human can't come to the blog right now. She's busy with something called a "turkey" (not quite sure what this is but it sure smells like a tasty bird to me!) In her absence, I thought I would put paws up to the keyboard and type some for her.

For starters, today is thanksgiving, and I'm sure she would love to thank all of the people that help bring you Carol's Little World, allow her to work on her artwork, to paint, to draw, to take pictures. All of the assistants, helpers, support and the like who help make this possible and have made it possible over the years. The suppliers, the people who make and sell everything from the paint she uses to the flash memory she seems to eat continually. She loves you, she really does. Next up on her list are all of the galleries and museums she works with and the people who help sell and carry her work. Without you she would have a hard time making it out in this cold cool art world so, of course, she wants to spread some love and thanks your way. Finally, she'd also like to thank all of you out there who stop in here to read this. All of the patrons who come out to the shows, all of the people who follow her on Twitter and friend her on Facebook. She's very thankful for you too as well. (Queen Flake wants to thank Snowflakes everywhere for their support today, I'm sure she does.)

Last but not least, she wants to thank friends and family (any many who overlap several groups listed here.) She would want you to know that you are special to her and she values you and loves you deeply. She is thinking of you this holiday season.

I think she would even give me a pat on the head for doing this today but not sure. She's awfully fussy about things like the couch and, once when I was teething and got one of her shoes she had a fit (not sure why, I mean, she had another one sitting right next to it! Besides, it's not like she had all four, you know, enough to make a complete set.) She might not like me chewing up this "keyboard" thing for long so I best be going now too.

Hey, is that a squirrel?

Until next time...

Wordless Wednesday

2011-11-23T07:07:00.002-06:00

Sunset Lost, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

This one is called Sunset Lost.

Until next time...

Earthen Sunset - Encaustic on Panel

2011-11-22T06:24:00.002-06:00

Earthen Sunset, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Today's upload and post is called "Earthen Sunset." I got these pigment sticks from R&F paints (the people who make the encaustic paints that I use) and tried them out. One of the sets that I have is metallic and one is supposed to be a "life drawing set."

I started using the life drawing set because I loved the shades of browns in it. It has everything from dark sepia to earthy reds to light golden flesh-like colors in it. Oh, these pigments sticks really are very nice and have made me wonder, why have I not tried these sooner or tried to do more with these sooner? Now that I know about them, oye, will I be using them a lot. Though they are a bit expensive, I believe they are well worth the price of admission as it were. The colors blend beautifully and they really have lovely pigmentation. The set I was using was very even and smooth and somewhat even easy to draw with, at least I could almost be able to draw with them.

I had a very productive day in the studio yesterday, being able to knock out five paintings over the course of the day. When working with the encaustics on this new small series I have unified them by using a darker foreground and a lighter "sky" area. My inspiration for these was sunset time in the desert. I saw the beautiful brown earth tones and immediately thought about Santa Fe and the way the colors all look in the desert at dusk. I made some abstract landscape-like paintings, although you might not read them as landscapes. I'm fine with getting away from the realism for a while, I mean, heck, I do enough photography for two lifetimes, right? I'm all good with delving into the abstract, especially with the encaustics. All of these new paintings have some kind of title that hints back to their "sunset" beginnings.

Working a bit larger allows the artist a bit more freedom. Working smaller allows us to experiment and try out new things. These are sort of mid-sized panels, actually 12x12 panels. I hope to move back up into the larger sizes soon, and do some 18x18 panels, also I have purchased some 18x24 panels that I will use as well. I do like the larger square work but also really like the landscape orientation that an 18x24 allows me. I like having that natural orientation and that rectangular size, almost better than the square. Maybe again here, it's all of that photography corrupting me, but that's how I see things.

I think one of the things about abstracts is that, in general, they look best when LARGE. I need to start doing some 36x36 sized panels or some such thing, just to start getting that big and to allow me to work with the materials better.

For me, encaustics is becoming as much about working with materials as it is working with the paint. I find myself saying things like, "let it cool, add more wax" all of the time. I've discovered that it's really just laying and layering in the wax, working with the layers, adding texture, colors, wax, and pigment until you get a composition that you are happy with, that you like. It's almost as much about the materials as it is about the color or the paint itself, at least that's what I'm finding.

I believe that my new set of encaustic work is much better than what I had been doing. I now look back and sort of cringe at my old stuff and that's good. I mean, I'm a mature artist, so I know how to put out work on some level, but the encaustics are harder to work with. I do feel like I'm turning a corner, of sorts, that I'm now able to paint more with them, able to get the kind of "looks" that I want more and more as I work with the paint and materials. This is a gradual thing, and I'm certain it will happen over time. I've also learned as an artist not to rush things. Work will come if you let it happen.

Of course, like an idiot, I ran out of white paint in my studio yesterday. What a fool I am and still a beginner on so many levels. (Ok, note to self. Never ever run out of white or black paint. Really a stupid move on your part in oh so many ways.)

Today it's supposed to storm a lot so I will be away from the studio doing other things. I do have some larger panels to think about and I will start to think about working on those, not to mention I laid down some plaster yesterday too, so that I can use Conti crayons or even soft pastels on some plastered boards as well. Look for that work, coming soon to a blog near you.

And, you know, probably some additional photography too because, rumor has it, there's a photographer that lives here sometimes as well.

Until next time...

The Good, The Bad, and the Macaroni and Cheese

2011-11-21T09:14:00.002-06:00

, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

This just in, fresh from the "Don't Cook Like This At Home!" category, this is some of the nastiest looking mac and cheese I have ever seen in my entire life. And, yes, it's from my stove as well. Allow me to explain (and forgive me for using the word "fresh" in relation to this, as you will see, it's anything but. In fact, the word "fresh" should be banished entirely from this blog post forever more. Well, except for me now telling you it needs to go away that is.)

The other day, I was running late. I was hungry and tired and really really just wanted something quick to eat. No problem, I thought. I have some of those "shells and cheddar" boxes stacked up in the pantry, set aside for just a time like this. I'm all stocked up and it will only take me about 10 minutes to cook something like this. So, without looking, I grabbed a box out of my pantry, that infinite space where I can stash away canned goods and non-perishable items for eons. Yay! All good to go, right?

Heh. WRONG! Boy, was I ever wrong.

For starters, it was late and I was tired so I didn't look too closely at the box. I sort of half-read the directions, printed on the bottom, without looking too carefully at anything else. It told me to boil some water, put some milk in, and after a few other "rub you belly and pat your head" events, the entire thing was supposed to "boil up" on the stove and then I was supposed to wait something like 10 minutes for dinner.

Yeah, yeah, yeah yeah. How does that old saying go? "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble." I waited for what seemed like an eternity (ahem, read: 10 minutes) and then the good instructions said I was supposed to leave this mess out on the counter for 5 minutes to cool or do some sort of carnival tricks (actually, good money is on "cool" but, you know, just in case your box of dinner does something different, I want to cover all of the bases here.)

As the mess (and I do mean "mess" in the literal sense here, not speaking metaphorically at all) started to cool, I realized something. The box, the outside of the box, a box I had only bothered to half-read and even that counts only as "half" if you consider I squinted at it in something resembling proper kitchen lighting, clearly said on it, "Shells and WHITE Cheddar." The WHITE being the operative word here (yes, in case you're wondering, the capitalization is all mine.) White. White. Isn't that a color that's not like really yellow?

So now I start to wonder. Hmmm. What have we here?

I can't say that I pretend to even know what it is, but I can say, with some confidence, that it's clearly not white. Nope, not white at all. Perhaps a spiffy yellow, we got ourselves a "light golden" winner. Ding! But, white? Nope, not a chance. Nothing white here, move along folks, nothing much to see that's white here.

So, like did the box lie? Did it maybe tell a little fib of some kind? Or was I really on crack and this "pot of gold" actually morphed itself into some kind of wild, funky ass crystal meth that I just didn't know about?

Here's the situation. It was late, I was tired, and I had me some oddly yeller mac and cheese. What's a girl to do?

Since it was late at night, I can totally admit to having been painting, drawing, or otherwise doing something photography-related until odd hours of the day that day. Hey, that's what I do, right? No surprise there. Well, the surprise comes in with the fact that I sometimes don't really have the best of noses-I loose my sense of smell sometimes when I've been dealing with paint fumes or photo-related chemicals all day long. It just kind of goes with the territory (try sniffing some paint thinner if you don't really believe me here.) Now, as you can imagine, one good whiff of this thing with a fresh nose resulted in, let's just say, something I really didn't want to get all that close to and leave it at that, ok? (Eeeuf. What a stinker.)

That's when I looked at the box. I mean I really looked at the box. Actually, I take that back. I looked at the EXPIRATION DATE on the box. Expiration date? Who knew these "shells and cheese" boxes even expired? Did you know this, great snowflakes, and forget to enlighten me, Queen Flake, as to this situation? Oh the shame! A closer look at the expiration date revealed something interesting. The "Shells and WHITE Cheddar Mac" had actually expired in February. February 23rd in fact. February 23rd in the year 2002.

Ha! Ooops. So much for the idea of "non perishables" in the pantry for dinner.

And so I offer you this humble advice. If you find yourself painting until near midnight and also find yourself hungry and in need of some food, might I suggest you skip cooking anything at that point? Thundercloud, some fast food locations, and even doughnut shops, yes, they're open that late/early in the morning. You'd be much better off, trust me on this one. Unless of course you actually like YELLOW colored stinky "Shells and WHITE Cheddar" macs. And, as for me? Yeah, you guessed it. I went to bed hungry that night. No way I was going to partake of something that came from the decade that brought us Avril Lavigne, that's for sure.

Until next stinky, stinky time...

Waving Goodbye to this year's East Austin Studio Tours

2011-11-20T07:43:00.002-06:00

GloveShopWindow, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Today is the last day of EAST. I hope you had fun exploring all of the art studios and enjoyed all that East Austin has to offer. I know it's been a heck of a year for me. I was able to do some demos, met a lot of folks, and got to display my work in two different venues, and lots more.

At this point in the EAST tour, many of us are happy to get our lives back, that's for certain. EAST really consumes us for two entire weeks in November. It makes for a busy show season in the fall and really makes for a lot of personal contact, which is something I really love.

One of the problems with being an artist, especially where I live, is that I don't get to talk to patrons all that often. So many times I find myself shipping crates of artwork off to here or there without having any contact with the shows. Seldom, if ever, do I get to attend the shows my work is in. Unfortunately, this is just a fact of life. I can't travel around and meet everybody as much as my artwork can.

The East Austin Studio Tour changes all of that. It's mostly about personal interaction. Everybody really wants to come out and meet the artists. It's not confining the artwork in stuffy galleries, it's more about getting out, enjoying the days, seeing the studios, and talking to the people who make art. That's what I love about it. It's a lot of work, yes, but it's fun that we get to do that. No shipping crates for us all this time!

Well, I hope you had a great EAST tour or, if you live where there is not an East Austin Studio Tour, I hope you get to get out and see some local art where you live. Art and artists are everywhere. Sure, it's great to have something like the East Austin Studio Tour but, even if you don't have an event like this, make the time, go and see some artwork. Get out an explore your local artist studios. It's not all that hard to do. Most artists will open up their studio to you upon request and it's really great to get out, meet these folks, and see how artwork is made in your neck of the woods. Likewise, if you're an artist, I would encourage you to go ahead and let people into your studio space. It's a great way to talk to folks in your community and to share what it is you do with the rest of the world.

There's nothing "magical" about the EAST tour, in fact, many artist communities could do something very similar where they live and work too. It's just organizing, deciding upon a date, maybe getting some sponsorship, and deciding to get together and actually do it. I have to say that, in Austin anyway, it works wonders. We all love getting out and seeing the work, not to mention meeting lots of folks we would not otherwise get to visit.

Tomorrow's another studio day for me, although I have to admit I'm going to miss all of the hoopla of the tour. It's going to be very quiet without all the visitors, that's for certain. So, even though I might be waving goodbye to EAST for the year, I'm now going to pop into the studio on a hopefully more inspired and recharged note, with some fresh ideas and some new insights to the creative process that EAST has afforded me.

Until next time...

In Humble Praise of the Abstract

2011-11-19T19:42:00.002-06:00

DinoBlur_4730, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I write to you today in humble praise of the square black and white abstract image. Now, I know these type of images don't usually get all of the attention, no, everybody always wants to look at mountain tops or pretty girls half naked. But I like these sorts of images, at least, I've written here before about how much I like doing large square black and white images. There's just something about them that I really like, something I can't quite explain. And, while I don't normally do fully abstract images, I kind of like the tints and tones across this one. It's got every "color" from the deepest of black to the brightest of whites in it, somehow, all sharing the same real estate. There's just something about abstract black and white work that I really like so I post it today without apology and write to you today in humble praise of the abstract.

Nothing earth shattering to say today, other than I just wanted to post this image and check-in a bit. I hope you are all enjoying your weekend and gearing up for the upcoming holiday weekend in the 'States. Next week, you see, is Thanksgiving and Black Friday, the official start to holiday shopping (although, I suspect, some of you have started shopping already.)

This morning my doorstep was, ahem, "violated" by a big box from Dick Blick. Oh, happy day! More supplies in the mail. Come to Mama, you luscious art supplies, you. Mama needs to paint some more. Have lots of plans but not time to get myself into the studio to do anything. Sometimes, eh, you know, that's how the artistic life goes so I take it as it comes. It's all good, you know, all good, and helps me appreciate studio time more when I can actually get it.

Enough talking about that, how's your weekend going so far?

Until next time...

Of Art and Scale

2011-11-18T07:26:00.002-06:00

Tint_6879, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I had a few paint colors left on my palette this morning, so I decided to whip up a quick painting, you know, one last one for EAST and all. Here it is, I hope you like it.

AHEM Kidding, kidding!

This is actually part of a well-known piece of artwork. So why am I posting it here, today? Why am I posting this instead of some of my own artwork on this, my personal blog? Well, it has to do with a question of scale, which, conveniently, is today's topic for discussion.

How big do you think this painting is? Do you think it's small? Large? In the middle? Is it a 16x20? Is it part of a larger work? Is it GIANT and does it SCREAM LOUDLY, "I AM A TITIAN!" or is it more humble and quiet, gently filling the space it's in?

One of the problems with viewing artwork on the web is that we often loose a sense of scale. Not only do we drop the sense of scale in artwork, but we often misplace context as well. Allow me to explain.

If I had done this painting in encaustics, on board, on a small 10x10 panel, and put it in the room with all of our other encaustic paintings, do you think it would get noticed? Do you think folks would stop and see it, stop and look at it? It's detailed, that's for sure. And, yes, you can't take away the technique of the painter here, even given an unknown scale as viewing this over the Internet. I mean, this is some fantastic paint slapping, there's no debate about that. And the colors? Damn! I can't get colors this good with my high-end digital SLR camera. Phew! Nice job there, old Italian painter Titian, you really pulled out all of the stops on this one. (Heh. Imagine this in "Score Me!" I'm sure somebody would give it a "2" and say it needs more "boobies" or some such thing. Rascals!)

What about if this were hanging in the Louvre, next to a bunch of other famous paintings by artists long since dead (or, perhaps even worse, forgotten) would you stop to notice it then? Would you even pay it any mind or would you suddenly bolt up, trample a truckload of Japanese tourists to death on your way to see the Mona Lisa? (Be honest now!)

The difference here is a matter of context. Put next to some fabulous other artwork, put in the same context as a Tintoretto, more Titians, and lots of lovely Leonardo's? Yeah, even a painting *this good* can turn into a "ho hum" experience. Hard to believe, but this is true. Put it next to a bunch of beginner's work and, would it stand out? You'd like to think so but, here again, maybe not. It really just depends upon the context, the frame of reference, and the scale. (I'm not saying here that Titian would be mistaken for a beginner, no, but what I am saying is that, in the context of a bunch of beginners, perhaps even the great Titian would be reduced to sitting in a corner, thanks in part to his work looking different from the others in its surroundings. You know, sort of not "fitting in" scale-wise or context-wise. He would stand out like an apple in a bowl of lemons is perhaps a better way of putting it.)

Many people talk about going to Florence, Italy to see artwork. It's a city that leaves an impression upon very many artists. One of the pivotal pieces in Florence is the famed statue "David." Carved by Michelangelo himself, "David" is perhaps one of the world's most famous works of art. Many people have viewed "David" on the web-you can probably Google "David" to find lots of references to it. It's all over the place. Even people who have not seen "David" in person recognize it, since it's all over the web and has been reprinted so many times.

What many people don't realize is that "David" is not life-sized. Oh no, he's not. He's actually 17 feet tall. Yes, you read that right. SEVENTEEN FEET tall. That's a big "David." Perhaps we should call him "DAVID" or, in something resembling "proper" Italian, "DAVIDISMO!" He's bigger than big. He's living LARGE, that's for sure. Many people, upon viewing him for the first time, are unprepared for this. Even though they have seen him countless times on the Internet, even maybe seen video of him, he's still a sight to behold in person. ("DAVID," why hello, "DAVID!" indeed.) Instead of "shaking his hand" when you get to meet him for the first time, you get to maybe shake his "left toe." Yeah, he's that big.

So this brings me back to the question of scale. I absolute *love* this Titian painting, as you see it here, in small (well, small-ish) format on the Internets. It reproduces well, very well in fact, on-line. The colors really pop, thanks in part to the mastery of Titian with mixing the color palette, yes, but also because of the relative scale of the piece. The blues are "properly placed" next to the reds and such which gives this painting a wonderful sense of relative scale when reproduced on-line (if this is too technical a conversation for you, just think about it this way-the people all look about the same size in relation to one another which, you know, can be difficult to do if you are a novice painter.) But all of this "technical" discussion still doesn't answer my original question.

How big do you think this painting is in "real life?"

That's actually a bit of a loaded question because, while we can "judge" relative scale on the Internets (that is to say, we can answer the question of "do all of the people look about the same size? Do the people in the back appear 'correctly' smaller while the people in the 'front' of the painting look a bit larger? Like they are coming towards us from the plane of the painting?") we can't always judge absolute scale, in other words "how big is the overall work?" This is an easy question to answer in "real life" but much more difficult to answer on the Internets. Think of it this way, does this painting fill up a room? Is it, like our "friend" "David" actually a "DAVIDISMO!" or is it, you know, perhaps, a "davidino?" Seventeen feet tall and bulletproof or you know, like three inches across is what I'm asking here. And this question, this is what's so difficult about viewing artwork over the Internet. Digital art, so often, looses its sense of scale when reproduced on the Internet.

As painters and photographers too (yes, even they don't get a free pass here!) we have to think about the scale of our work. Are we making things too big? Too small? Do we want to make a "grand statement" to make our own personal "DAVIDISMO!" or are we making an intimate little "davidino?" Are we going seventeen feet tall and bulletproof or is three inches more our style?

Many photographers here are limited by their tools. So many, perhaps too many more, don't even think about this-we simply don't consider this when making, even printing our work. Others, perhaps incorrectly, always strive to "go big or go home" by making the largest photographic prints they can possibly make-everything here is couch-sized. Most of our printers only do 16x20 sized prints (if we are even that lucky-I'm sure many of you reading this might not be able to print larger than 8x10 or letter-sized work without using some kind of a service.) Does that really mean we should just always do 16x20 work? 8x10's all of the time?

One of my favorite photographers, Micheal Kenna, always does small work. He prints his work small and on an intimate scale. If you've never experienced it, I can tell you firsthand, it's a wonderful experience being in a room with a bunch of Michael Kenna's. They are small, yes, but they sort of "dot" the space and they have a wonderful intimate feeling about them. They aren't "sub par" they are just, well, small and detailed. They make you want to move in closer, to really examine them. He's a master at doing this, even with subtle work. Other photographers work large, very large. I've seen billboard-sized work in galleries and certainly there's something to be said for seeing large, splashy abstracts, especially a bunch of these together hanging in a gallery show. They look wonderful and you can get lost in the work. A few years ago, I had the privilege of seeing some of the work from the series "Elevator Girls" in person, at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston and, let me be the first to tell you, it was wonderful. They were all printed very large, on acrylic material of some kind, so they were very reflective and shiny and, wow! I really got lost just walking among them, walking around in-between these pieces. I could not have imagined them printed or presented any other way. They were fabulous. Big, giant, gooey fabulous work, done up in large scale for lots of folks to be able to explore.

My point here is: don't just go 8x10 or "as big as it gets" and stop, no, think about how you want your work to be seen. Think about scale when doing your work, even if you are a photographer. It really helps move your work to the next level. You really should be thinking about scale even when you're in the field shooting. I mean, it doesn't hurt to ask yourself, "what am I going to do with these later?" You know, are you going to blow them up BIG, I mean like "David"-sized big or print them small? Postcards? Large banners? Think about scale as part of the process, just like a painter has to and this, almost always will help you visualize your work better. If you don't believe me here, try it out, try it just once and see if it doesn't help.

If you've always done small work, think about going big. If you've always had the "itch" to go big, think about doing small work. Try seeing what you can come up with if you limit yourself to an entire show of nothing larger than 5x7's. Sometimes too, we allow the scale of the work to sort of "rescue" otherwise boring work. Just making something big doesn't make it better, no, it just makes it bigger. Just like those who photograph a lot of "red" stuff sometimes use color instead of thinking about composition, so too do some photographers rely more upon scale over composition. Making "red stuff" doesn't make stuff "better" it just makes it "red." Photographers who do this a lot often benefit from forcing themselves to shoot in black and white. Take the color away and you'll learn how to compose. Likewise, with scale, it can be the same thing. Don't think about making everything "big" to save yourself, rather shoot everything thinking it's going to be no larger than 5x7 and force yourself to bring about that "Michael Kenna" sense of intimacy about your work. You just might find your work all that much better for it. Of course, if you're used to working small, try it the other way. Print something large, make your own "private" "DAVIDISMO!" even if just once, just to see how your work translates into a different scale. Maybe that 8x10 printer really is holding you back and you would benefit from working a bit larger.

Getting back to "my" painting here. This is a panel from the Scala d'Oro, the famous "Golden Staircase" located inside the Palace of the Dodge in the heard of Plaza San Marco in Venice, Italy. I believe this panel was painted by Titian, although some attribute it to Tintoretto and others bear not attribution at all. It appears to me to be created by Titian due to the colors used here-Titian was a master of color and really made his colors "pop" not to mention we know he was hanging around the Dodge's Palace in Venice, as he has "other works in the show" (ahem, as it were.)

To answer the "burning" question, this is actually not a painting at all, it's part of a ceiling panel in the Scala d'Oro. Many people, actually probably most people "viewing this" walk underneath it without even noticing it on their way to visit the "Bridge of Sighs" from the inside. Few, if any, stop to take photographs of it. This is actually a fresco that's part of a ceiling panel so it isn't very large, though it's part of a larger work known collectively as the "Scala d'Oro" or the "Golden Staircase" in Venice. And, yes, the famed painted Titian, at some point, will become one of my "Painters Every Photographer Should Know" in case you are curious and want to learn more about his work with color. This "painting" is actually about 20-30 inches across, maybe a bit larger but not too much. It's cropped here, as there are some gilded (actually "real" gold) sort of "frames" around it which are really ceiling joists of some kind (helping to hold up the plaster, I believe.) This is, perhaps a smaller work than you might think it from the Internets, although the detail and composition is striking.

No matter the scale, context, or era, this is a wonderful painting and I will always enjoy looking at it. This is one of those painting that I look at and think, "gosh, I hope I can paint like that someday," regardless of how "big" it is (or isn't!) I hope this discussion of scale has helped you think about your own work in a new or different sort of way.

Until next time...

Of Art and Fear

2011-11-17T07:23:00.002-06:00

BoyFeedBirds, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Are you afraid of something? Maybe things that go "bump" in the night, spiders, or, horror of horrors, public speaking. (Isn't everybody afraid of public speaking?) Artists, like most people, are no different. We have hopes and dreams, yes, but we have fears too. And, like other people, sometimes our fears are not totally rational.

Being an artist who paints, draws, and takes pictures you might think that I'm not really "afraid" of anything art-related. But, well, you'd be wrong about that. I've always called myself "a bit shy" about drawing, especially in public. And painting? Well, oddly enough, sometimes I can do it ok and sometimes not. It really depends here. I have no trouble doing oils in front of people but I appear to be quite shy about doing encaustics. Now, I don't really know why this is, I mean, I'm not really quite sure why I'm afraid of doing things in front of people. Maybe it's because I feel like I'm some kind of freak, put on this earth for the only purpose of being entertainment (fodder) for others? Maybe I'm just shy? Or maybe it's because I feel like people are secretly laughing at me? I don't know.

I don't know about that, but I do know that, sometimes anyway, I feel that, when I'm doing art or making artwork, the whole world is making fun of me. It's almost like I can hear a little tape recorder, playing out the scorn of society in my head, "You think you have talent? Go get a real job. Stop doing these stupid silly drawings of little houses, they are worthless. Hmmm. While you're out there getting a real job, might want to get a new wardrobe too. You look too frumpy to be a 'real' artist." The little negative tape recorder? Yeah, it's so bad. It's not what you want to hear, trust me on that one. And it just keeps playing on over and over again in your head, really getting louder and louder each time you hear it.

So, what's a girl to do?

For EAST this year, I was asked to participate in some demos. I'm totally afraid of this. Afraid yes, but I did it anyway. It's demos which involve painting in front of people. GULP. (That's just the kind of thing I'm afraid of.) Now, last weekend, I did my demos. I rolled up my sleeves, got out to the little demo booth area, grabbed that paint brush and yapped and painted away! "These are encaustics. This is how you paint with them. This is how you put the wax on. YOU, yes you! What's your favorite color? Here, let me start with some of THAT and we'll take it from there...." Oddly enough, the painting didn't turn out half bad. The negative tape recorder? Yeah, as you could probably guess, it was so *gone* once I got going. (The trick with that is to shut it off, to stop it before it gets to loud and just get on with what you are doing, ignoring those negative voices in your head. Yes, I know, sometimes easier said than done.)

My point here, this post, is not really about my own personal "negative tape recorder" it's more that we all have one. Each and every one of us has some kind of "no, that's bad!" voice in our heads. Sometimes, yes, sometimes these voices are helpful. "Don't play with matches!" or maybe even, "No, bright purple polka dots do not go well with orange shoes!" but, more often than not, the voices we here can hold us back. Somewhere along the way those "bright purple polka dots" turn into "yes, that dress does make you look fat!" or "no! You can't draw! You're not good enough!" When we reach that point? You guessed it. That's when it starts holding us back.

Artists have fear too, each and every one of us. We're all afraid of heights or public speaking or dresses that make us look fat or whatever! The trick is to learn to harness that fear. Perhaps the one thing artists have that not everybody is blessed with is a coping mechanism. We can paint, draw, take photos out of fear. I've discussed this before, but there are many people out there who are afraid of heights. That's all well and good, very many people are just frankly afraid of heights, but, of those people afraid of heights, how many of them are still afraid of heights when you strap a camera to their faces? Maybe not quite as many, for sure. I know of several people who conquered their fear of flying (in airplanes, even in smaller planes) by taking photos. There's nothing quite like the grand "bird's eye view" of the universe to put that "oh my God, we're all going to crash and be killed instantly!" negative tape recorder voice on the back burner. If you don't believe me, get out and try it sometimes. Art can be a great coping mechanism, witness so many art therapy programs. Some of us (ahem, *cough* *cough*) even become quite fearless when behind that camera lens. This goes a long way to explain why sports photographers often get run over by linebackers at football games or why war corespondents often get shot. We've learned to be so busy with the camera that we've put the fear, the normal everyday fears that help protect us, aside to do our jobs. (Don't get me in a helicopter, ok? I might just dangle out the window without a rope. Well, provided I have a camera, that is.)

So, today I challenge you. What does fear look like to you? Does art help you conquer it? Are you afraid of public speaking? Of drawing? Of heights? Spiders? Snakes? Tall buildings or open spaces? As a person, I can't say that I would want to force you to go there but, as an artist, I'd have to suggest you at least try out some artwork and see if it helps. So, go on. Paint about it. Draw it. Strap that camera to your head and go bungee jumping or ride the crazy white water rapids. I dare you. You can do it! Come on, you know you can do it.

As those (maybe even those without a paintbrush in hand) might say, "you have nothing to fear but fear itself."

Until next time...

Travel Bug

2011-11-16T07:17:00.002-06:00

MountainView_3829, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Being a photographer means that sometimes you travel. Since I'm a photographer, it stands to reason that many of my friends are photographers too. (I have a lot of photographer friends.) Having so many photographer friends means that you have a bunch of friends who travel a lot and, believe me, I do. Some of my friends travel a lot. I mean like a lot. Like, we're talking glorious amounts here. When I say "glorious amounts" I mean they actually are on the road each and every minute of every single day. I mean like they've been to every country on the globe at least three times. Heck Joe McNally even gets free biscuits from the airlines these days. I mean who does that anymore? In this economy? Biscuits reserved for somebody in Seat 12D who travels so much the airlines all know him by his first name? Really?

I kind of have a love/hate relationship with travel. Sometimes, I love to travel. I love seeing new places, trying out new foods, meeting different people. Perhaps one of my dream jobs would be as a co-host for that cable show "Three Sheets" where the guy gets to go to bars and drink his way around the world. Yeah, I so would love to do that-I love trying out mixed drinks local to wherever I go. It's not just the drinks though, I love the excitement of a new city or the scenic views of an unfamiliar landscape. I love being out there, wherever "out there" happens to be. It can be exciting and new and really gets me out of my usual rut. It helps alleviate the pressures of a daily grind, that's for certain.

Unfortunately though, since I know so many heavy travelers, I also know a lot about the darker side to travel. I'm not just talking about the "it's 3 am and I don't know what time zone I'm in" or the "Oh, right, this vending machine won't take my money. I don't have dead queens on my quarters!" dark side either. Those are just little glitches and are really part of the fun of traveling a bit.

For starters, when you travel, your world, your own "little world" goes on without you. Your family and friends, they're all at home, doing what it is they do. It's hard to keep in touch when you're miles away. Skype is no substitute for being there. This is especially hard on children. Hate to be the one to break the bad news but, if you're two continents and several time zones away, odds are good you're going to miss your kid's soccer practice on Saturday. And that's just the mildly bad news. You might still be thinking, "ok...yeah...so what if I don't have kids?"

I've got friends who have been mugged in New York, caught in uprisings in Egypt, trapped in Tokyo Tsunamis, and that's just for starters. Do you really want to deal with a nosy Turkish customs official at 3 am? Even if you're not carrying any dope, I dare you to try that and tell me you don't have visions of "Midnight Express" dancing in your head for weeks afterwards. Love sitting in an airport gate for six hours on end watching news clips in some forgotten language while the rest of your friends are enjoying a Sunday afternoon off?

It can also be really hard to do simple stuff, like go to the dentist or get your haircut. The little things that we often take for granted are harder to do when you're not around to do them. A friend of mine got a jury notice once while he was away and came back to face a bench warrant out for his arrest because he had ignored the court summons to appear so many times. Of course, he wasn't even aware he was being summoned, and he was three continents away opening a new business in Asia somewhere the entire time. Eventually, they excused him from his jury mess, but situations like these make us all wonder. Do you really want to go through all of that? It can be especially hard if you travel alone a lot. Isolation is no fun and, being isolated three continents away is even less fun for some folks. Those room service menus get to look pretty old pretty quickly and it's really not a whole lot of fun walking into a restaurant three continents away trying out how to ask for a "table for one" in some language you don't even being to speak while the locals all stare at you because you appear quite like an alien being from mars (or some such thing.)

There's also the grind of being couped up in a small metal box hurling through space at breakneck speeds. Love the smell of stale air in the morning? Legs cramp up much? Just how much do you love that middle seat? You really didn't need that checked bag, did you? Sorry, we're all out of "airport approved rubber chicken" here's an "oh, heck, I don't know kind of a mystery meat for you-nobody eats this crappy airline food anyway" dish I'm sure you'll just LOVE. This ought to tide you over for the next 18 hours including layovers. Please make sure you OJ Simpson yourself through that next airport, your connecting flight leaves in 30 minutes. Oh, and yeah, we don't know what gate you need to find either. Please check the message board where it's plainly spelled out for you in something resembling Outer Mongolian characters clear as mud. You have ten seconds to do that before you get trampled by a pack of hurling Japanese tourists. As my friend Linda used to say, "Good luck with that!" Even Joe McNally's million mile biscuits are looking pretty stale when you put it that way.

But, then there are times when it all works right. When you take yourself to some magical place you had only dreamed about or seen in pretty travel brochures. I can tell you, with certainty, that Hawaii is as lush and tropical as you imagine it to be. (It's even better looking in real life than the brochures, believe me.) Venice is romantic and fun, plus the food isn't half bad. Iceland looks like no other place on earth and New Orleans? Oh, what a fun town, go there if you can. From my first trips, early in my life, flying to California or driving cross-country to the Florida coasts and keys, to my most recent trips to Kona and Rekjavik, I would not trade some of my travel experiences for anything.

Sometimes, it seems like the more I travel, the more I miss my home and the more I stay home, the more I want to travel. The travel bug bites me every once in a while and I feel like I just want to flee. Land masses several continents away feel too close for comfort and then I remember Joe McNally's stale biscuits, my lost luggage, drinking tea at two am because I don't know what time zone I'm in and, gosh, I really do miss my dog when I'm away.

It's a strange thing travel is or, you know it can be, almost like a teeter totter. A little is too much and a little more is not quite enough. It's a great balancing act when you don't even know you're dancing. Everybody wants to land on the beach in Bimini but nobody wants to get stuck in Detroit in February and life is like that. Sometimes, in the great lottery, you draw up Detroit in December or some such thing and sometimes? Even the Bimini side of things has some disadvantages.

Yes, I guess it's safe to say I have the travel bug again, maybe a little bit, but it'll go away once I get out more. As I start to plan my photo trips for next year, and think about the places I might go or the locations I want to shoot, I'm excited about getting to pick out special magical places but also worried that I might miss stuff happening at home too. Lately, it seems like I want to get out more but I'm almost always one lost piece of baggage away from wanting to jump into bed (my own bed, thank you very much!) and pulling the covers up over my head. There's something also wonderful about sleeping in your own bed, eating your own food, "crash landing" on your own couch that I really enjoy. It too is a great way to recharge the old batteries. Oh, and I'll still miss my dog every time I go away. It's my favorite part of coming home again. Getting to see Chase jump up and bark like he hasn't seem me in ages. (Good doggie!)

Look for some future posts on upcoming locations as it gets closer to the new year and I plan out my 2012 travel calendar. Right now, I'm still mulling over the next great locations and spots I want to visit and trying to figure out a way I could fit more camera gear in a carry-on. If you're a photographer too, I'd love to hear about some upcoming location shoots you have planned for the new year.

Until next time...

A Place Called Sometimes Island

2011-11-15T07:21:00.004-06:00

GreenGondola_5811, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

There was an article in the paper the other day about a place called Sometimes Island.

I live near Austin, Texas and in Austin, actually just outside of Austin, sits Lake Travis. It's a large lake along the Colorado River, the lake itself formed by a series of dams. The entire setup is run by an outfit called the Lower Colorado River Authority (LCRA.) The dams control the flow of water, obviously, to keep Austin (no, not "weird" although I guess they do that too) from flooding like it used to in years past. In the past, Austin was home to some historical floods, with parts of the entire City being shutoff and underwater for great lengths of time, so this elaborate series of dams was built and a government organization formed to control it all, to control the flow of water down the Colorado and protect the City.

Well, smack dab in the middle of Lake Travis there are some islands (sort of) that pop up when we have a drought, basically when there is not enough water to cover them. Because of the nature of these "disappearing islands," islands that are basically there sometimes and sometimes not, the locals have branded them, well the largest of them, "Sometimes Island." According to the news report on the issue,

"So-called Sometimes Island is now part of a peninsula jutting out about three-quarters of a mile into Lake Travis. The Austin American-Statesman reported Monday that the lake, for the first time since the 1960s, is so low that visitors can walk from Mansfield Dam Park to Sometimes Island. The island's name came about because the land is only exposed during droughts. The chief park ranger, Dan Chapman, says the peninsula is pretty brushy and unappealing. The area was part of a farm on which cattle grazed before Mansfield Dam was finished in 1941."

I've always been oddly fascinated with the entire concept of "Sometimes Island." I mean islands are supposed to be made of rock and stone, big giant things like Hawaii that offer shelter from the great seas and oceans of the world, right? Hard giant rock formations that you can land a boat on, heck even build condominiums on, not disappearing or "popping up" when the weather is right or they just sort of feel like it. "Hi, we're here! Came in for a spot of tea today. We'll be back underwater tomorrow." I mean what is up with that? A disappearing island? Does it come with its own magician, top hat, and giant bunny too? It's just odd to me.

Combine this with the fact that the newspaper just ran an article saying that our drought is so severe you can now walk out to Sometimes Island, that it's now actually a peninsula and not even an island anymore. An island you can get to without using a boat? One that's only there sometimes and sometimes not there because it's flooded with water but now it's actually a peninsula? Wait...let me get this straight again...It's hard to wrap you head around this, isn't it? (Oh how I miss the giant bunny now!)

[I smell an art project here, I swear I do, or at least the makings of a great title for a new encaustic painting or perhaps a very funny blog post, don't you? I mean, how great would this be for the setting of a murder mystery? I could almost sniff out the title now: Murder on Sometimes Island. Oh man, this is like epic. Where are the late night jokesters when you really need them most?]

Sometimes (ahem!) I have to really wonder about people who say they can't find inspiration for artwork anywhere. I mean, you can't even make up stuff this good. It just falls out of the sky or, in this case literally rises out of the lake. How could you miss being inspired by stuff like this? Is there anything like this in your little world? Any odd inspirations? Settings you find interesting? Or things that strike you as out of place? Sometimes (there's that word again!) it just takes a small glance, a slight look at something and a brief thought but, when we make ourselves ask questions like, "what's up with that?" there is often inspiration to be found in our local setting. We don't have to go all out wild and crazy, we don't have to travel the globe to find this stuff, it's the slightly odd and out-of-place things that work just fine here. You can find a small inspiration, add a lot of imagination, and come up with a great art project. Imagine what the concept of "Sometimes Island" could become in the hands of a great mystery writer, a sculptor, or perhaps even an abstract painter.

In case your new to all of this, maybe you're a beginner or maybe you're just looking for a dash of inspiration, I hope I have provided you with some food for thought. Go out and find something in your little world that's different, unusual, maybe only slightly off and capitalize upon it. Take it to its limits. Stretch it. See where it takes you. It's one of the many ways we can be inspired to create something new and different. Ask the big questions yes, but don't forget to stop, pause, and wonder, "what's up with that?" too. Maybe it's just something dangling slightly out of place, a nail in an odd place, or just something a tiny bit "off" in some way that sparks a thought and provides your inspiration. I hope this technique will help you find new inspiration in the small things you happen upon every day, not just the larger mind-blowing experiences, because those sometimes (!) only happen to us once in a little while.

This image was taken in Venice, at a holiday festival, but it could just as easily been taken in Lake Travis or near where you live. There is water everywhere. There are boats on the water everywhere. There are even islands and odd happenings everywhere. Plastic bags in the wind, odd signs, nails out of place, hooks holding up strange things. It's up to you to go out, to explore, to find these things too. So, maybe you don't have a Sometimes Island where you live, but I'm sure there's something else, something maybe even wilder and crazier or even something that allows you to stop, pause, and reflect just long enough to find inspiration. Go out and find this place, this place that's special and inspirational for you and explore it.

Perhaps tomorrow will bring another image here on the blog from Iceland, Italy, Mexico or, you know, this place, the place known as my own special Sometimes Island. I tend to live there, in case you couldn't tell. I love to hang out in the land of odd little inspirations, strange happenings, and wonderful little quirks, I'm at home there more than I am someplace you might consider more "normal." Sometimes Island? Yeah, I could probably just move there, really I could.

And, let me be the first to tell you if you haven't figured it out already, it's the greatest place to visit if you can manage the trip.

Until next time...

Moss Grows Fluffy in the Land of the Trolls

2011-11-14T07:18:00.002-06:00

RockyView_3768, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

At one point on my travels in Iceland, I went into an area I could only really describe as "hills of moss and trolls." There were all of these little rocks with fluffy moss growing on top of them, like you see here, and then little plants growing out of the moss, and even pretty flowers growing out from the plants growing out of the moss. Iceland is a very unique landscape in this regard. It's a natural habitat for trolls and small little things that go bump in the night. I have to wonder if Walt Disney was part Icelandic, or perhaps just visited the countryside on occasion, for I could really imagine somebody like Mickey Mouse being very much right at home in this sort of an environment. It's just kind of like this, really, it does indeed look like what you see here.

As I was walking through the small "hills of moss and trolls" I thought about using my new Lensbaby lens and doing some really soft fluffy moss shots, like you see here. One of the problems with rocks in general is that...well they are one of those subjects that look really interesting in real life but then the pictures seldom live up to the "real life" view. They are, I guess, what you might call "difficult to photograph." I think this is because, well, naturally people just aren't all that interested in a pile of rocks. As biological creatures, we are more interested in food, so we tend to look at things like plants, flowers, etc. and other people. Rocks? Yeah, well they are down on the bottom of the list somewhere although, to be perfectly fair, they are probably above a few things like, say, wet paint, but they rank pretty low (for the most part) on the scale of things people adore looking at.

Now, trolls...trolls on the other hand...they rank right up there with foodstuff, people, and Playboy bunnies as "things of interest to most people." Really, they do. (If you could even find one that is. A troll, I mean, not a Playboy bunny, although those are rumored to exist as well.) So, being an enterprising photographer that I am, I thought I would hang out by their home (the trolls, that is, not the bunnies) and try to, you know, try to catch them off guard. Maybe come in, have a spot of tea, take some snaps, you know that sort of a thing.

I'm sorry to say they are a bit shy and did not want to be photographed on this particular day. I did, however, manage to snap a few snapshots of their happy little homes and so you can see them here. I'm certain they make nice little condos under rocks just like these, up there in the land of the "hills of moss and trolls." Of course, they probably don't much care for all of the big, giant, human tourists, so I had to return from my trip in order to give them some peace and quiet. To let them rest up for a long winter nap. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get to go back and visit the "hills of moss and trolls" pop in and see them again someday. If I do get to go up that way again, I'm sure hoping they'll let me take more pictures next time around.

Think they make a good cup of tea?

Until next time...

Blur Girl Rises from the Ashes of a Busy Show Schedule

2011-11-13T09:12:00.002-06:00

IcelandicPath_3778, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

When I was in Iceland, our fearless leader, John Paul Caponigro, decided that we should all have superhero names. My name was "Blur Girl" since I like to take these blurry out-of-focus shots (yes, they are done deliberately in case you could not tell from peeking at this one.) Many people view these blurry out-of-focus shots as horrible mistakes and, I guess, in some ways they are. I don't look at them that way though, I tend to see them differently. I tend to see most things differently, I guess and these sorts of shots are no exception, but I do kind of like them and think they are fun.

For starters, I like the blurry stuff because it's softer. So much of the landscape, the "traditional" landscape style of photography is about taking shots of hard rocks, chiseled edges, intense angles. I've always imagined a more feminine landscape-one without hard edges. Yes, I know they are mountains, and they have been chiseled away by time and wind and all of that, but somehow, I just like to think of them as more feminine forms. I mean, when you look at the biological spectrum, almost half the creatures on the earth (for some species even more) are female so, surely there must be a feminine mountain out there too, right? I mean, there are female rhinos and wildebeest, chickens too and such, so why not girlie mountains? If there were such a thing, I'd try to envision what it might look like. This is kind of what I would come up with for that. Something, you know, something kind of softer. Soft gentle curves, gentle slopes, more feminine in nature. (Hey, we let you guys have monster trucks, ok? Can we at least have a mountain or two? Please?)

Another thing I noticed about these kind of blurry out-of-focus shots is that they are more interactive. And, I have to admit here that, when I say "I noticed" I actually mean it's been noted, by several other photographers, people like say Uta Barth, Ken Rosenthal, or any of the noted photographers whose work touches upon the psychological aspect of abstraction as suggestion and memory seed. What these folks have realized is that, by taking an image, even a "familiar" or iconic type of image (like say, a path through the mountains, like this one here) and blurring it, you don't actually remove any information from the image. Instead what happens is that the person looking at the image actually sort of "fills in the blanks" to what they are seeing. This happens because there is just enough information to sort of "read" the image and our minds love to work this way (it's psychology, an actual science, not these people just guessing here.) It's sort of the same way in that they say typeface is "easier" to read if it has little serifs attached to it-a sanserif font is harder to read, and scientific tests demonstrate how we read one more slowly than a font with serifs, because, when the serifs are not there, we mentally "fill in the blanks" and put them there. We mentally, on some level anyway, slow down long enough to actually fill in the missing information (even if we are not conscious of doing this, it gets done somehow in our complex mechanism of brain activity for us.)

What these photographers have realized is that this process of slowing down to "fill in the blanks" also makes us spend more time looking at the image itself. If you think about photography, one of the "goals" of image-making is to craft images that people spend time with-we all want images that people sort of "get lost in" or images that keep the eye within the frame, to engage the viewer. These sort of abstractions do that, in part because they are nice images (maybe) but also in part because of the abstraction. We spend a bit of time filling in the gaps of the image, long enough that it means we've also spent time looking at the image. So, this is almost a "poor man's" way of "cheating" yourself into a good image. Of course, it doesn't always work, sometimes you are just left with a pile of blurry out-of-focus mess, one which nobody wants to look at at all, but, you know, for the most part, you can sometimes finagle a good image out of this process (or so these folks tell me.)

Lastly, another reason I love these sorts of images I think stems from the fact that I paint a lot. Somehow, I think that painters are more "tolerant" of blurry out-of-focus images. They like abstraction. It's something I've noticed as I paint more and more. I tend to like more abstract work. Some photographers don't sort of "get" abstract work-they can't see why you would want to blur something and think that it clearly must be some kind of mistake. Maybe you don't know how to work your camera or maybe you just can't see right. They think of these type of images as needing to be "fixed." But, if you ask the painters, it's almost comical, as they don't "get" the clear, crispy sharp focused images the photographers so covet. They view these pieces as having sort of "nothing to say." I've actually seem painters walk up to "traditional" looking landscape photographs in a show and say aloud, "I don't get it. What is the artist trying to say here." It's like they work so much in the abstract, they don't "get" realism. Personally, I think that because I work in both, as an artist I work both with the sort of realism that comes with photography but I also do very abstract paintings, I've very tolerant of abstract images, even in a photographic medium. I've always been drawn to photography as a medium, rather than painting or drawing, because it offers me both the real and the abstract. I've always felt this was a little bit like having your cake and eating it too-you get the best of both worlds. If I look back at my most successful images, they all have some element of this. It's like you could take apart the composition and point to something "real" in the image but also point to something very "abstract." They are both there living side by side. It's a bit like the Hatfields and McCoys living next to each other and actually getting along (or some such thing.) I want my "real" yes, but I want my "abstract" too. If I can't get it, then I might as well draw, paint or work in some other media, because that's what photography affords me.

I think there's many reasons to love or even just accept blurry images as part of the spectrum of images we can produce. I don't always want to make everything blurry all of the time, no, but I do appreciate a good blur from time to time. I like the fun of it and I don't think I should stop or have any immediate need to "make it go away" anytime soon. It's just part of, you know, it's just part of what I do so I've learned to live with it and even enjoy it. I still take in-focus shots every now and again too, and I like some of those. I don't think I'll ever be "all blur all the time" but I do enjoy to mix it up. It keeps the photography fun and interesting for me too, as the blurry stuff is a fresh change.

So much for my explanation of Blur Girl and the chasms of Iceland. It's back to the show grind for me today. I'll be over by the Big Medium complex (I think) for most of today, and I might actually be painting, so if you are in the Austin area and want to see how (exactly!) to paint with a blow torch, do please come on by and have a look for yourself. I'm at Pigoata Studios for most of the day but might also pop in over at Studio 2 Gallery for a visit as well. We have to see how the burn ban is doing in Austin before we can safely blow torch away at our artwork so much of this will depend upon the weather for today, but I hope to get some torching in as part of EAST this year if I can possibly manage it.

Until next time...

Send in the Clowns - It's Showtime

2011-11-12T08:57:00.002-06:00

LightWriting_5495, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

In case you missed it, today is the opening for the big East Austin Studio Tour (EAST) shows.

Now it's time for a commercial.

I'll have work up at the following places:

Flatbed Press - As part of Studio 2 Gallery's invitational exhibit "Eastside." I'll be at the opening reception tonight starting at 6 pm
At Pigoata Studios and Pigoata Studios extension (aka "The Cottage") - I'll be doing demos with encaustics here and hanging out to talk about and share my experiences with encaustic painting techniques. Please stop in and say hello if you are in the area (this is right next to, and right across the street from, Big Medium, or the EAST headquarters.)
AVAA Fall Show - I've also got some work in the Austin Visual Arts Association's Fall Show over at Austin Art Space Gallery. This is in central Austin, near the Wal-Mart's on Anderson Lane.

I will try to make some posts from my mobile today but not sure if I can get that to work (been having problems posting from my phone.) I'll try to blog live from EAST but not sure I'll be able to keep up with it, although please do check back here as I will also try to post my impressions of EAST when I can.

See you in the studio, on the road, or in the gallery somewhere!

Until next time...

Top 10 - EAST Artist Jokes

2011-11-11T06:38:00.002-06:00

MutedTones_5537, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Remember those old jokes, "you might be redneck if..." and then they would say something funny? I thought it might be fun to do some East Austin Studio Tour (EAST) jokes, since every artist I know in Austin is going crazy going EAST. So, with apologies to Jeff Foxworthy, here are my top 10 EAST artist jokes.

You might be an artist participating in the EAST tour this year if:

10. Your "Wet Paint" sign has wet paint on it.

9. You accidentally painted your pet dog/cat/ferret/goldfish/mongoose and are now wondering what to list on the label as "media." (Note: apologies to Debbie Buie for this one.)

8. You happily introduce yourself to random people on the street by saying, "Hi! I'm number 32 on the tour!" while forgetting to give your real name or even telling them you are an artist.

7. You think the term "wardrobe malfunction" refers to the fact that you now own more (otherwise clean) t-shirts with paint stains on them then you own actual t-shirts. ("Now, who did I borrow this shirt from again....?")

6. You find yourself quietly whispering the phrase, "Pssst. I have the good stuff. I got one right here!" while "revealing" a small private ultra-secret stash of EAST catalogs that you're only willing to share with close friends and relatives you actually like. (Your crazy Aunt Edna doesn't get one this year!)

5. You have Jerry's Artarama on speed dial.

4. All of the paint, varnish, turpentine, coffee, tea, wood stain, etc. at your nearest Hobby Lobby/Michael's/Home Depot/Lowe's/grocery store/etc. has long since run out of stock. You know the dates and times all of these places get their inventory trucks in. You've actually considered flirting with the stock clerks to speed this process.

3. You don't bother with brush cleaner, you just paint another one and keep your brushes wet all day long. (You've also seriously considered turning your drop cloth into painting number 16 for the day.)

2. You have exhausted all framing supplies in your studio and are now secretly raiding your neighbor's fireplace log pile late at night searching for anything resembling suitable lumber for framing materials. (Note to self: watch our for the neighborhood raccoon.)

And finally, the number 1 way you know you might be an artist on the East Austin Studio Tour this year:

1. You have already attended more "preview parties" than there are stops on the tour this year.

Happy EAST weekend everybody! I'll see you on the tour.

Until next time...

Beach Baby 'Bergs

2011-11-10T07:32:00.002-06:00

BeachBabyBergs_3490, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

I took some time out of my EAST-ly shenanigans today to upload an image from the beach trip in Iceland.

I really loved this beach. It was really neat to see the ice sparkling like diamonds against the black sand, the waves hitting the icebergs just off the shore. It's an interesting place, Iceland is. This is not something you might expect to see. Certainly, this is nothing I ever expected to see in my lifetime yet, there I was, standing at the beach and getting to experience it firsthand. I was really hoping to get one shot of it too-just one shot so that I could share it with you. This was not intended to be any kind of a "high art" image, I honestly was hoping to get more of a snapshot of this, for the blog, so that I could show you and my family and my friends (well, some of you are my friends in "real life" too, so please bear with me on this one) what Iceland looks like. This is, well, this is that shot.

Which brings me to today's topic.

When you practice photography or art as a hobby, it's great. You get to enjoy it, maybe you even start to get some shots you really like. A few paintings come out, you know, not so "ugly" or what have you. The world is a fun place. Life is good. And then something happens.

You get good. You get better. People start making demands upon your time. Everybody wants a piece of you. You start to get pulled like a rag doll in many directions. "Give me this!" They scream at you. "I want more of that!" They cry at you. And so you try to keep up and make due. You start painting more or shooting a lot, just to try to keep up. At times, it feels like you cannot keep your head above water, like you are that iceberg there, just off the shoreline, being pelted by the waves and constantly knocked around helplessly.

Then something else happens. It happened to us this weekend, as we were preparing for EAST. It rained. Now, this might seem like a simple exercise in weather statistics-it rains a certain number of days a year, right? And we have a drought so rain is a good thing, right? Right? Wrong!

Most photographers remember their first "real" shoot in the rain. Painters often can't paint in the rain either. Paint doesn't dry and it turns into this pudding like substance...well, let's just say they have a hard time painting in the rain too. It's not "fun" like it was back when painting was a hobby, that's for sure. That wonderful vision we all have of the French man with the beret standing on the corner next to the easel tossing a scarf over his shoulder while dabbing a bit of French blue on a pristine sky? Yeah, that so doesn't happen everyday of the week, ok? Let me be the first to burst your bubble about that one (if it isn't burst already.) If you want to be creative, you sometimes have to work in rain, snow, sleet, hail, and all kinds of stuff that makes me otherwise just want to stay in bed. It's downright hard to work in the rain, really it is. Trust me if you have not done it before it's just, well let's just say it's hard on the soul even though it can make for some really great artwork.

At some point, the hobby turns into an obsession and then, horribly, turns into a job.

This might sound like what you want. Everybody wants to make money from their artwork, don't they? It's better than working at a desk, isn't it? Would you rather be a bank teller or a taxi cab driver? No, no, not me, I'm an artist!

Sometimes. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It's different from working at a desk, but it's working too. That hobby can turn pretty ugly on you when it's a full time chore. It's hard to churn out 22 properly sized, exquisitely painted, properly wired, labeled, and tagged paintings, let me tell you. It's a lot of work anyway. And, guess what? You get to do this all the while your friends think you are off "having fun." Oh joy! You get to lock yourself up in your studio and do all of this, paint away your lifetime, get buried under mountains of paperwork, (invoices anyone?) do lots of tedious chores and sometimes you wonder, for what? Why am I doing this? (Let me be the first to tell you, if nobody else has already, that sometimes I feel like I would rather walk into that ocean than cut another matte board or wire up another screw hook. Sorry to tell you this but, all of that crap? Yeah, that's part of art and photography too. Here, have an invoice! They're good for you, like broccoli only not as chewy.)

So, while the party atmosphere at EAST has already stared, I put out this humble suggestion. Let's not forget our friends who are busy still working. Putting those last few coats of paint on their masterpieces. Wiring up their photos or labeling their artwork. Part of EAST is having a "pitch in" kind of attitude and I, for one, am willing to help do whatever it takes. Yes, it's a lot of work, at times it can seem brutal, but it's also very rewarding. So few times do we get to "showoff" our work to so many people and have so much fun doing it. It's a challenge at times and, yes, we are in the final stretch, but it's also fun too. Much like that hobby that turned into an obsession and then later a job, getting to put on a show like this is as much a labor of love as it is anything else.

I'm glad I got to share with you my beach baby 'bergs. I hope you like them. I'm glad I get to paint, draw, take pictures, and do tons of stuff that many others don't get to do. I'm sure there are artists who want to participate in something like EAST but don't know how or can't quite get up the nerve to do it just yet or maybe there are some out there who just feel so overwhelmed and just can't quite finish it all before the "big show" starts. It's part of my job too to lend them a hand, to not forget about them as well. We should all strive, as artists, to replace ourselves at one point or another. (If we don't do that, the arts won't grow.)

That little thing I started doing way back, sometime in like 1992? That little "hobby" of mine, taking pictures, framing them and putting them up on walls? Yeah, it's so changed over the years. I do a lot more now, including shoot in the rain. I mess with screw hooks. I photocopy model releases. I've got my invoices properly filed and right here, looking at me. I do it all. And, I'm glad when I get to party or relax or just enjoy life a little bit because the pace, the pace of the world I travel in nowadays, can be so much so fast it sometimes makes my head spin. So, while I'm not entirely unlike that iceberg you see here, stuck like a sitting duck getting pelted by the surf, I'm keeping myself busy and trying to have fun too. And I hope, I honestly hope, you get to do the same, that you get to share in this delight, even if it's only in some small way.

Isn't that what life's really all about anyway?

Until next time...

Go Fish

2011-11-09T07:16:00.002-06:00

RedFish_5526, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Here's another of the pieces I did this weekend. This encaustic panel will be on display as part of the East Austin Studio Tour this year, look for it over at Pigoata Studios on Bolm Road if you are so-inclined (and please do stop in and say hello if you are there.)

Today's topic for discussion is: frustration. One of the things I've discovered is that many artists suffer from this, in fact, I'd go so far as to say that we all do at some point in our artistic development. We get frustrated with our level of progress (or lack of progress) at some point over the course of our artistic lives. I used to hate this kind of frustration. There's nothing worse than feeling that you can do better, knowing that you can do better, and yet, somehow turning out crap after crap after crap work. A bad day in the studio can really put a damper on things, that's for sure, but maybe it doesn't have to be this way. Maybe, we can learn to accept the fact that frustration is just a natural part of the process-it's part of the progression that we all must take along our path to artistic success. Allow me to explain.

If you don't experience this frustration, if you never feel that pain of not doing "well enough" (whatever that happens to mean to you) you will never move ahead in your artistic development. Part of the frustration, part of that feeling that you can "do better" is hidden in the notion that you are about to do better. You are pushing yourself to do better. Your brain is mentally wrapping itself around the idea that "hey, I'm BETTER than this" and that's where the frustration comes in. Wise artists tell us that, just before a breakthrough, usually comes a period of "oh, damn! This is so *not* working!" and, I hate to say it, but, yes, yes, as you could guess, the harder the "this is not working!" the stronger the breakthrough. Unfortunately, you must sink pretty deeply sometimes to rise up above that surface.

I think the important thing here is to remember that we all experience frustration. Technique doesn't always fall out in the wash. We sometimes have to struggle to get results. The trick is learning to accept the fact that, yes indeed, we will get them. Results will come at some point, it's just a matter of working through the frustration. So, maybe the next time you feel frustrated as an artist, the next time you are *that much* away from throwing in the towel, waving your hands, and just giving up, stop and think about it. Maybe you're just about to have your biggest breakthrough. Hey, don't laugh, it too could happen to you.

When I first started making this piece, I didn't really like it. I thought I would start off with just a totally white board and then I had some red paint on the brush so, first swipe and everything came out pink. Oh no! Horror of horrors! Pink! What was I thinking? I worked through this though, I kept going, kept hoping things would work. I ended up with a big red splotch in the middle of the piece but then I kind of liked that too-it looked at first like a heart to me. I thought, "wow, this is....this is getting interesting..." the more I worked through it, the more I just sucked it up and tried to move on, the more the piece started, well, working for me. Now, it's one of my favorites from the weekend. I just like it. I like the tones of colors (the "pink" is actually kind of nice!) and the big red splotch. I turned the board around and then thought it looked like a big red fish, so that's what I named the piece: "Red Fish." It's got lots of little dents and crooks in it but that's part of the appeal. It's not perfect-nothing is, but it, well it just works for me now.

Fishing is really laying in wait with the right bait. When we go fishing, we never know what we are going to catch. Some days? Maybe a tasty dinner. Other days? Maybe an old rubber boot littering the bottom of the lake. Fishing is like that. Art is like that. Sometimes, the best we can do is to sort of "go fish" and hope for the best. Throw our line into the stream and hope to come up with something better than the last time.

I hope you get to fish too, in whatever it is that you do in your life. I hope you get to experience the joy of creativity, the creative process and all, but I hope you also get to enjoy some of the fish side too-you know, the "take what you can get" aspect of it. And, I certainly hope you get to work through your frustrations, whatever they might be, that are standing the way or blocking you from doing what it is that you get to do in your day to day life.

Enough ramblings for one day, time for me to get back into the studio and I do hope to see you and, well, some "fish" as part of the East Austin Studio Tour this year. If you are in the Austin area, please stop by and say hello.

Until next time...

Studio Output - The Darker Side of Wax

2011-11-08T07:19:00.002-06:00

ThreadAsWinterTrees_5538, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Yesterday, I had opportunity to photograph some of my recent studio work (paintings) so that I could share them with you, both here on the blog, and also on Facebook, maybe (eventually) on HouseOfCarol.com as well.

I have been doing some work with encaustics recently-mostly just working with the wax as a material and practicing the build-up of texture and various applications of paint mixtures and techniques to build up the surface of the work. Basically, I'm just playing in the studio, exploring a bit, trying to do things like make "smooth" (whatever that really means) or "rough" or "shiny," that sort of a thing. Those of you who do not paint might not get this part, as it's more about the technique of laying the paint down and working with the surface, working with the medium, fusing the wax, and learning or trying various techniques to see what works and what does not.

Encaustics are a very difficult medium to work with in a way. I mean, they are very forgiving, yes, but it's hard to get exactly what you want, exactly what you might have in your head at any given time. Your "technique" is limited in some ways (well, unless you have been doing encaustic arts for years-it's something that is quick to learn but hard to master, I suppose.) I have grown to view every encaustic piece as a sort of "happy accident." You almost always get something cool looking but, that something cool looking might not be exactly the something you had in mind when you set out into the studio. Frustrating? It can be. I've learned to live with it and to just accept the fact that my technique will build up over time. I'm not that impatient when it comes to painting, I guess. (Of course, please do not use this as an excuse to get me to photograph some birds, as you know my feelings about this already.)

This encaustic panel started out as a mistake. I know that because, well because it's covered in yarn. Allow me to explain. I start out every encaustic piece the same way-with paint. (I'm not really as big on the "found objects" as some folks who do encaustics are actually.) I started painting and I came up with a painting that I actually liked (well, sort of) but I thought that, as I do with many of my encaustic pieces, there was no center of interest. The painting had no subject. It was....shall we say, almost like an "underpainting." That's one of the big problems I have with encaustics. They seem to make for great underpaintings-almost like the musical equivalent of "always a backup singer, never a lead vocal" in the art world. Anyway, I decided I would try to put a stripe in there to make it...you know, to give it a center of interest. I did that, but then I wound up with the strip to painting ratio a bit, shall we say, "off." I can't really explain it but the "stripes" were now taking more space than the background. It was a competition and I was losing. So then I decided I would just cover the entire thing in yarn-I would fuse this nice fuzzy yarn I had found into the layers of wax.

Lately, it seems like my "technique" involves trying lots of things and, for whatever doesn't seem to work, use lots of fuzzy yarn dipped in wax to cover my tracks. While this is maybe not the best way to go about doing things, I now am developing a series of works in wax featuring yarn. As you can imagine, there are a lot of mistakes. Fortunately for me, the yarn does a good job of covering up my "tracks" as it were.

I have to say I love the output-I love this painting. I recognize though that it's a bit dark-a lot of people who look at encaustics might want the shiny happy type of artwork, I don't know about that. I'm having more fun exploring the darker palettes with the encaustics. I actually like the black encaustic paint, although I'm the first to admit it's not really "black" more like a "dark charcoal." Still sort of interesting though, and I love exploring the darker side of wax.

Yes, yes, I know. I'm probably the only one. Everybody else is doing shiny happy red stuff or lots of "found objects" with, you know, all kinds of cool crap floating along in their encaustics. I'm just not that kind of a girl, what can I say?

So, there you have it. I'm a dark palette painter running around with lots of yarn. Almost sounds like a black cat on Halloween night, doesn't it? So much for my dreams of being Edward Hopper, I'll have to settle for a great big ball of wax and some fuzzy knitting material instead.

This is some of my recent work. I've got about six new paintings to be included in the East Austin Studio Tour (EAST) starting this Saturday over at the art complex on Bohlm Road (next to Big Medium.) Look for me to be in the studios either there or over at Flatbed Press showing off some of my photography for this years East Austin Studio Tour (EAST.)

Until next time...

Some Refreshments

2011-11-07T17:11:00.002-06:00

Refreshments_5334, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

There will be some refreshments provided while we take a brief pause in our daily long-winded updates relating to life, the universe, and everything. Please enjoy an icy cold beverage on our behalf.

Like, seriously, I had this great post all ready to go only it's on my iPhone and my iPhone does not want to give up the goods so that leaves me (almost) without anything to say to you today. I figured that, rather than leave you in the cold (and drop the competition) I would offer up some icy cool beverages.

I'm very sorry that there is no beer. Maybe next time one of my compact flash cards get eaten I'll offer you up one of those (that is, if I don't take it all for myself.)

Until next time...

East Austin Studio Tour - Behind the Scenes

2011-11-06T13:09:00.002-06:00

WhiteDoor_3501, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

This year, I will be participating in the East Austin Studio Tour (or EAST as we like to call it) over at Flatbed Press. Yesterday, I had opportunity to get in some "behind the scenes" peeks at some of the work and let me tell you, it's spectacular. I absolutely love the project related to memory. It involves a digital projector, iPads, and lots of short videos-that's all I want to say about it now. Without revealing too much, I have to admit it's really got my head running around thinking about all kinds of new projects I could do with iPads and digital artwork. It really is a revolution going on out there in terms of this new media. Lots of great new opportunities for artists and artists having lots of fun. I have to say there was a lot of wet paint too but, you know, that goes with the territory.

EAST promises to be such a fun event again this year. I predict it's going to be even bigger and better than last year. It's going to be crazy yes, it's going to be full of artwork, yes. There will be thousands of people there, yes that's true too, but it's also going to be quite fun and quite an opportunity for artists to mingle with the "general population" as it were. This is a great opportunity to get our artwork out in front of the world, out in front of the masses, as it were, and to meet and greet lots of folks.

If you are in the Austin area, I hope you can get out to see some of the EAST activities. I hope you can get away from the pre-holiday rush, come out and join us in the fun and activities. There is always lots to see and do at EAST and this year is no exception.

Our TV coverage has started, with the local PBS station, KLRU, doing a special half hour show on the Austin EAST shows. The galleries are getting spiffied up, the shows getting hung, and the finishing touches being put on the work. I'm sure that, as I type this, lots of paint is drying now too.

I'll keep this short today, as I have to get back into the studio to, guess what? Yes, I'm painting today too.

Come on, paint, dry now! We've got to get you all hung and ready and pretty for the big events that start this Friday.

Until next time...

It's Time to Stop Feathering My Own Digital Nest

2011-11-05T02:02:00.009-05:00

Recently, I've noticed something about my photographic habits, of sorts (if you can call them that.) I tend to shoot the same things, over and over again, and I tend to visit the same sorts of websites over and over again. Not that there's anything wrong with this, inherently we are all creates of habit, are we not? But, it got me to thinking (ahem, for those of you who are new here, trust me when I say this, that is not always a good thing.) Maybe I feel like I'm in a rut, maybe I feel like I'm a bit stalled as an artist simply because I keep doing the same sorts of things over and over again, expecting different results? (Isn't that what they say the classical definition of "insanity" is?) Maybe it's time to, you know, to branch out a little bit? To try something new? To go out and explore "the great beyond" (whatever that might be?)

So, I started by going into Google and typing my name. I saw what came up-there were all of the usual suspects-Flickr and Facebook, HouseOfCarol and Utata. This website, of course (Don't worry, I have no plans to neglect you. Yet. Well, at least not until the end of NaBloPoMo that is.) Then I started scrolling down the list to, you know, to find some of the less frequented places. I rediscovered a few of my old web hangouts (I had completely forgotten about Fotoblur Magazine! Oh, if you get a chance, do head over there-it's fabulous.) I happened upon ArtSlant (I logged in there and updated my profile, including a picture of myself and updated some of my show information, which had been hopelessly out of date.) Lastly, I had a long hard think about this and I thought that maybe, just maybe, I need some new hangouts. The web has grown a lot since I've been surfing last. Maybe I need to find some new stuff, to go and try out some new spots? I've come up with a little "action plan" of sorts-I've decided I'm going to try a few new things, start to explore things on the web a bit more.

There is a certain safety in visiting only the same sites on the web over and over again. If, say I add an image to Flickr, Facebook, or to certain spots on the web, I know how they will be received. I almost know what people are going to say before they say it. I know which images they will like and I really almost know what sorts of feedback I'll get for a certain image. Which kind of brings me to my next question. Am I really getting "feedback" if I'm posting the same sorts of images into the same sorts of online hangouts and getting the same sorts of "feedback" over and over again? Maybe it's time to try something new? Maybe it's time to push myself just a little bit more, get out of my comfort zone, and mix things up with some new people? There are certainly enough places out there, out in the great big "web" of a universe.

To put it another way, to ask another question, maybe it's time for me to put my work in front of some new eyes?

So, I thought about this a little bit more and came up with a few new spots on the web I might like to try out. I think I'm going to force myself to venture more. I think I'm going to start to "reach" a little and maybe try to post some shots in some places I'm not really "qualified" to hit. I'm sure I'll get rejected here a bit, that always happens but, maybe, just maybe, I'll find some new friends. I'll add to my small, intimate little circle of artist buddies. Maybe some new eyes on my work and, in turn, me looking at new work will help inspire me. Maybe it's time for me to start adding a few new hangouts and hovels to my bag of tricks. Lately anyway I've felt like I've just sort of wanted to mix it up a bit and this might be a good time to explore some of these new places.

The web grows a lot and it's always changing, always evolving. We like to think that we've mastered it maybe or maybe we just feel kind of like we're wearing a comfortable broken in pair of blue jeans. We know they are old, we know they are worn, a bit tattered around the edges but, hey, they're comfortable, right? And we've worn them for years. Don't mess with what works, right?

Maybe so, I mean, it works for blue jeans but, as an artist? I don't think that's the best of ideas. I mean, sure there are times that maybe you want to stay inside of your "cocoon" but not always. There's got to be a time, at some point in your development, where you sort of branch out. Where you leave that "digital nest" we all feather for ourselves and get out a little bit more. It's a risk, yes, but maybe it's a risk worth taking? I don't know about that, but I do think it might help me with this "I'm stuck in a rut" funk that I can't seem to shake off myself. At least, I have high hopes that it will, you know, maybe shake things up a bit.

So, if you are an artist, please tell me, please share. Do you tend to feather your own "digital nest" and not venture out into points unknown on the web? Are you a creature of habit when it comes to visiting the same websites and posting or sharing your work with the same on-line galleries? Have you thought about visiting some new ones? If not, what's stopping you? I'd be curious to hear from my exhibiting artist friends as to how you manage this. Is this something you actively seek (that is, do you routinely try out new on-line galleries and hangouts?) or is this something you avoid, preferring instead to stick with what works?

It's a curious thing, this new feeling. Just wanting to shake things up a bit, to maybe stir up the old pot some. I don't know how I'll really get over it or how long it's going to last, but I'm going to try out a few potential solutions to see what I can do to, you know, to make myself a bit more comfortable and a little less restless.

Until next time...

Fine Art Photography

2011-11-04T01:02:00.003-05:00

One of the questions I get asked a lot is, "What exactly is fine art photography?"

On the surface, this seems like a very easy question to answer. The reality, however, is quite different. For starters, everybody seems to have their own definition of what it is and what it isn't. To some, fine art photography just means shooting things in an "artistic way" (whatever that might happen to mean.) To me, this definition is a bit loose-although, to be fair, the entire question is a bit like asking what milk tastes like. Maybe the best way to define fine art photography is to talk about what it is not. I don't know about that, but I do know I'm interested in it and I have always considered myself to be (at my core) a fine art photographer.

To me, what it means is that I treat my camera like a paintbrush. I basically paint with my camera. I realize that, to some, this might sound impossible but, trust me, it's entirely do-able. I basically treat my camera's viewfinder like a blank canvas and set out into the world looking to create some kind of art or, you know, my version of what I think "art" might happen to be. To me, it's as simple as that really. I'm not now, nor have I ever been a type of photojournalist. I'm not interested in capturing "truth, justice, or the American way" (although I find nothing wrong with doing that-it's just not my thing, if you will.) I'm also not really interested in selling anything, although I certainly do sell framed prints. The key here is that I don't have sales in mind when I'm shooting-I don't shoot something thinking "oh, that will really sell a lot of product!" rather I think "oh, that would make a great shot!" When I'm out in the field (or in the studio to be fair) shooting, I'm always thinking about how something might look printed, matted, framed and hanging on the wall of a gallery (or maybe my living room, as the case might be.) I keep the finished print in mind and seldom (if ever) shoot something I know will be problematic in printing. I tend to work in a series, although not always, thinking about images as groups of images or working on a "body of work," which is basically photographer speak for a project. I do very project-centric work and often work on more than one project at a time.

To some the term "fine art photography" is synonymous with nudes (or artistic nudes perhaps) and, yes, I do some of that (it's also called "figurative" photography and goes by a couple of other names too) but that's not all that I do. For subject matter, my interests run the gamut-everything from people to landscapes, old cars, conceptual and studio setups-you name it. After being a photographer for about twenty years I think it's safe to say I've shot a lot of stuff and, in turn, a lot of stuff has made its way to the front of my lens. It's not just about subjects for me, although I do tend to shoot maybe more "artsy" subjects than most (maybe not? I don't know about that really.) I do tend to shoot certain subjects more than others, sometimes by chance and sometimes by design. (For example, I have a dog so I tend to shoot more dog photos than cat photos-that's certainly by chance although , I have to admit, my dog would really not approve of me shooting any cats. Well, not with a camera anyway.) If I had to narrow down a subject, pick one subject and stick with it, I would have to say it would be architecture, although I certainly don't want to narrow the field and shoot only that anytime soon.

I love going out, exploring the world, and shooting what comes. I don't always shoot people but, if I go to long without shooting people, I feel a need, sort of like an "itch" if you will, to do some portrait work. I used to do nothing but portraits and gave this up because it was time consuming and, while I was successful, I found it to be too draining on me. I was overworked at the time-booking myself far in advance and never shooting anything but for client work, so I gave that up and went back into shooting more fine art photography or things that I wanted to work on for myself. Now I really enjoy the freedom of being able to vary my subjects more, although I still do portraits (mostly "artistic portraits") from time to time (mostly for special friends, old clients who have stuck with me for ages, and the like.)

To give you a short answer about fine art photography it's really not any kind of photojournalism, it's not commercial photography, it's not documentary, not fashion, although certainly these types of photography can overlap. Fine art photography is not really about getting at "truth" although there is a certain "truth" in any kind of photography, it's more about getting at the thoughts, feelings, emotions of the photographer. I like to think that fine art photography really has "the hand" of the photographer in it. By this I mean there is some degree of personalization the photographer has made, some choice the photographer has made over the course of crafting the image that has had an impact on the finished look of the image, be it a selection of paper or a setting on the camera. I realize all photography is a bit this way, all photographers leave their mark, so to speak, but, with fine art photography, it's especially present. As a fine art photographer, I'm not interested in capturing "a scene" rather I'm interesting in presenting you my vision of that scene or that scene as I see it. It's more person than other forms of photography, more about getting to showcase a personal vision, rather than rendering what was actually there.

Since I get asked about this a lot, I thought I would post here to clarify things.

Until next time...

It's Music to My Ears

2011-11-03T01:02:00.001-05:00

So, the current topic is music and it's one that I'm especially interested in. For starters, I used to play music some, of sorts. I played the flute as a child, then later the guitar but also picked up the saxophone along the way (it's easy if you play the flute) plus I've dabbled in a few other instruments. I play a mean harmonica as well.

But how does music (or, perhaps I should say does music at all) relate to visual arts?

I think there is some kind of a connection. I think there is something kindred connection between the creativity that happens with an instrument and the kind that happens with a paintbrush. For starters, there are many artists who can do both--many "crossover" types who both paint and play music of some kind. But I don't think it's just a matter of "if I do this, then I can also do that," no, I think it goes deeper.

There's something about rhythm and harmony. There's something about patterns, about creativity, about balance, point and counterpoint. We both share the word "composition" don't we? Why do you think that is? I don't think it's just the language either, I think it runs deeper than that. I mean, both visual artists and musicians share a way of thinking at times. It's a matter of looking at the world and expressing it visually or sonically. It's the vision (yes, musicians have "vision" too) it's the voice (and, likewise, visual artists have "voice" as well) it's the way we express ourselves and showcase the world, how we see it or how we want to see it, given our chosen media. I tend to think this is the same, regardless of what kind of art you do, right? I mean, interpretive dancers, musicians, actors, photographers, painters, sculptors, we all share in these things, we just use different tools to get us to our chosen end results.

I'd really like to explore this connection between the visual arts and music a bit more, and hope to explore this more over the course of the month. I'd especially welcome thoughts on the subject from those involved in either the visual arts or the field of music. Do you feel more connected to the visual arts as a musician or, likewise, for my fellow artists, do you feel more attached to music working with visual arts? It's an interesting question to explore and I hope to do more over the course of future postings.

Until next time...

What Kind of Crazy November is This?

2011-11-02T06:03:00.000-05:00

Since it's November and it's also National Blog Posting Month (or NaBloPoMo as we like to call it) I thought I would explain a bit more about the process.

The way NaBloPoMo works is simple. Although it's a contest of sorts, the way you "win" is to post once a day, every day, for the month of November. The idea behind the "contest" is to get more people blogging, involved in blogging, participating in these sorts of activities, and the like. There are other corresponding "Months" as well, mostly notably, National Novel Writing Month, which is also (conveniently) in November. The idea is to get folks writing, thinking about writing, writing about writing, etc.

Writing and visual arts go hand-in-hand. I've often talked here on the blog about how photography is writing in lot of ways. They both are, at the core of it all, thinking-organizing ideas, be they ideas of words or ideas of visual space, into a presentation, into a finished product of sorts. Photography at its best has a subject and that subject connects with a viewer. It's the concept of taking a clear idea, taking a concept, and showcasing it visually where photography really hits the mark. The best images are ideas realized, highlighted in some kind of visual form, yes, but showcased too as ideas, as concepts, as subjects. The best photographers, when they take the best images, have some solid idea in mind. Seldom do we accept haphazard randomness as part of a finished product. Although that does happen from time to time, the best photographers actually set themselves up to capitalize upon chance. They seize the moment they've been expecting, not just some random odd happening in the universe. If you want to be a great photographer, to really take your image-making to the next level, you have to think. Clarity of subject goes a long way and, while it's must harder than just say bumping into random things like a Roomba, it really does make for the best images over time. Anybody can get lucky once, right? To make it happen and to make it stick, you've got to work at it, and that means thinking, clarifying, having a vision and not just accepting random accidents from the great beyond.

So, this writing thing? Yes, it's designed to help you become a better photographer. Tell me what you're doing. Tell me where you are going. Tell me what you saw. Don't just see it, tell me what it was. Talk to me before, during, and after your images talk to me. The idea that photography is a "voice" and that we each have our own unique distinct "voices" as image-makers is really not a new concept, even if it can be difficult to pin down your specific voice or to find your true calling as an artist.

Given this, I welcome the idea of writing more about photography. I welcome the idea of helping my students gain the clarity that comes from crafting a vision. I welcome the notion of a core of solid images over time, not just some flash in the pan happy shots somebody liked once upon a time. I strive for long-term growth as an artist, not just a short sprint to some kind of shallow prettiness that's really just a fleeting beauty.

This is the real reason why I like to participate in NaBloPoMo. It's gets me writing and that gets me thinking. And thinking? Yes, that's so at the core of photography, it's not even funny. So, I'll do it again this year (or try to) so that I can bring you some clarity of thought, some semblance of the method behind the madness of being an artist.

Once again this year, the rules are simple. Post once a day for a month. Thirty posts in thirty days. That's it, there's really nothing more to it than that, although, as I do every year, I will use this opportunity as an excuse to explore some new topics, to relate some funny stories, to connect with your more and, at the core of it, to hopefully craft some better images. I hope you'll consider coming along for the ride, either as a reader here or as a NaBloPoMo poster yourself. And, you know, hopefully I'll still see you come December, only we'll both be "winners" of sorts.

Until next time...

Hello and Welcome!

2011-11-01T08:45:00.002-05:00

The Framed - Square Format, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Welcome to the annual craziness that is National Blog Posting Month (or NaBloPoMo as we blog posters like to call it.) Today, I'm writing to you from my home studio, just outside of Austin, Texas where I live and work with my almost all black curly dog named Chase. I love Doritos, I watch too much Top Gear and Burn Notice on TV, and I'm a working artist and photographer involved in a host of projects. Thanks for coming and visiting! If this is your first time here, I'm glad you allowed me to introduce myself. If you are a regular reader (or "Snowflakes" as I like to call you-a term which I lovingly stole from one of my favorite comedians, Lewis Black) you are probably wondering if I'm off my rocker yet again (ahem, I do it a lot these days, don't I?) Well, no, sorry to disappoint you there, my Snowflakes but Queen Flake has indeed decided it might be a good time to introduce herself this year yet again to the madness that is, well, NaBloPoMo.

So, welcome, welcome one and all!

I've got a lot of news to tell you about, lots of shows and things going on, gearing up for a busy season yet again, and it's National Blog Posting Month. We've having all sorts of fun just kind of rolled into one, aren't we?

Well, for starters, at this time, I should explain that I usually pick a topic of sorts to post about. This year, I've decided to pick the theme of: music! Now, I'm not going to blog only about music, no, rather I select the theme to use as a sort of backup-a backup in case, you know, in case I don't have anything to write about. This gives me a "safety net" of sorts, so that I can yap and gurgle on about something in case I happen to you, run out of words. (Hey, it happens sometimes, Even to a blabber mouth like me!)

So, there we go. With the theme of music on this the Day of the Dead, I welcome you to my humble web hovel. I hope you enjoy your stay and look forward to posting me on this the chattiest of months on the Interwebs.

Welcome to November. Welcome to Day of the Dead, Welcome to Carol's Little World. We hope you like it here because, well, somebody had to replace Pluto with *something* didn't they?

Until next time...

Studio Time - A Bad Day in the Studio

2011-10-31T00:15:00.002-05:00

RedMarble, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

This weekend, I tried to do a few encaustic paintings in my studio. (Encaustics are, like what you see here, paintings made from beeswax and artist pigments.)

I even had a hard time getting into the studio. At first, I slept a lot and did not get much done. I had to get groceries (and you know, you just know how much I love doing that.) I had to go pickup some artwork at the gallery downtown. I had to do some other stuff. Eh, don't you just hate it when life gets in the way? Why do we have to do all of this "life" stuff when we clearly have other things to do, right?

Then, finally today I had some time and I was a really nice day outside so I decided to go into the studio and, you know, finally try to make some stuff. I tried, but I failed. I mean, sure I made some stuff. Technically, I made some stuff. But, is it stuff I want to look at ever again? Is it stuff I'm proud of? Is it stuff that will withstand the tests of time and trends? Not on your life.

I did one piece that was sort of minimal, which is what I wanted to do. A great success, right? Eh, looks too plain. Can't use it the way it is. It's only saving grace (and really this too is even a stretch) is that I might be able to put some kind of a "found object" into it and it might look...well...if I had just the *right* found object...truth be told, it might look kind of cool. But, finding that found object and putting it there? Eh, probably not going to happen. So much for that idea.

Then it was onto something else I wanted to try in the studio. An experiment of sorts! Oh, how I love those. At the end of it, I decided that I liked the experiment, it's totally something I want to do again, but I got frustrated. At one point, I got really frustrated, covered it entirely in wax and just started working it, almost angry like. Sadly enough, at this point, it almost started to look ok. I have to say this piece I might be able to save. If, you know, if I have some kind of a stroke of genius and suddenly figure out how to paint again overnight (or, you know, some such thing happens to me.) Maybe I get hit in the head with a lightening bolt of sorts. Yes, that always works and that's sure to fix it. (Wink wink.)

Encaustic painting can be so difficult. Why, oh why, can't I fall in love with acrylics? Something easy. Something that doesn't turn into worthless blobs of wax without the slightest of provocation. Why can't I do stuff like that instead? (Yeah, yeah, I know, "happy accident" and all...I just have to learn to love my mistakes...embrace the process, work the materials more, etc.)

Maybe my frustrations are born of the fact that I am progressing as an artist and so my work is ready to take a "giant leap forward?" Ha! Yeah, right. I'll believe that when I see it. I don't really buy into that theory at all, in fact, I think that's just crap artists say to each other when they want to make themselves feel better...feel better because, you know, because they had a bad day in the studio. A bad day in the studio...just like I had today. That's a whole lot of "meh" and it's got my name written all over it.

Bad day aside, tomorrow is another day and, if statistics hold, this means I'm going to hit a winning streak any day now. In fact, I'd have to say, I'm overdue for having a run of good luck in the studio so maybe that will happen next. You know, I could just get lucky. Hey, you laugh but that too could happen to me, couldn't it? Why can't I be lucky? Surely, luck has to shine my way at some point, I mean, crap, I haven't built up *that* much bad studio Karma, have I? (Gulp.)

In other news, it's almost time for NaBloPoMo. That's National Blog Posting Month. Look for that to start, along with all of the blog craziness, on the first of November.

Tomorrow too, I will be handing out candy to little kids, so look for lots of tweets, twitters, and maybe a Facebook posting or two about all of the hobgoblins in the 'hood. Who knows? I might even make a blog post about this? It beats me telling you how crappy I was painting earlier today, doesn't it? Doesn't it?

Nevermind, please don't answer that. I hope you have a great art-filled Halloween and a lot of fun on this the last day of October.

Until next time...

A Question for the Masses

2011-10-28T18:09:00.002-05:00

RedFloatingAbstract_5459, originally uploaded by carolsLittleWorld.

Here's a question for you. What do the following people have in common?

Captain James Cook
Simon Le Bon
John Cleese
Erasmus
Nanette Fabray
John Gotti
Lee Greenwood
Scott Weiland
Dylan Thomas
Theodore Roosevelt
Emily Post
Marla Maples
Matt Drudge
Sylvia Plath
Kelly Osborne
Roberto Benigni
Roy Lichtenstein
Niccoli Paganini
me

Give up? Oh, come on, isn't it obvious? We were all born on October 27th.

Since it was my birthday this week, I have decided to take Friday off, rest up, and get ready for some upcoming activities. I have to tell you the AVAA opening last night was fun, I really enjoyed all of the artwork and it was quite packed, as AVAA shows always are, but I'm home today resting and enjoying myself. I'll try to resume some normal posting again next week, gearing up for the EAST activities and, of course, NaBloPoMo (did you forget?)

I thought I might like to post a birthday balloon in honor of my special day. I hope you have a great weekend, a happy Friday, and all.

Until next time...