I never imagined I could capture so much emotion in an eye—especially on just my second attempt. This piece came to life through intuition more than technique. The values, the shadows, the highlights… they felt like they found their place on their own. Maybe emotion, light, and shadow have always spoken to me—I just finally listened.
The tables were covered in white paper. Crayons, pastels, and smooth sticks waited quietly. Then came Lucy’s glittery purse—her 8-year-old hands had filled it with stones to pass along, one by one, to the strangers around the table.
We traced them. Pushed them. Held them.
Then we let the colors lead:
-Red for emotion.
-Yellow for curiosity.
-Blue for memory.
Each color came with music, with story, with space.
At the Museum of Wisconsin Art, we made marks not for meaning but for presence.
Thank you to Ann Marie and MOWA for the invitation and trust. And thank you to the participants—some new friends, some old students—for showing up and making lines that listened before they spoke.
I had this bizarre dream recently that I saw some
maniac driving in circles around my neighbourhood in what looked like a Reliant Robin, ready to crash into whatever they could at any given moment… yes, my mind (awake or asleep) works in weird ways but it gives me ideas so, hurray?
4 year old Henry engaged fully with thick applications of watercolor and oil pastels. He said it was a stormy sea with a small boat. This was at the onset of the pandemic, when we were all a bit uncertain and confined to our homes. I was reminded of an insight by Kierkegaard written in the early 1800s: “When the sailor is out on the sea and everything is changing around him, as the waves are continually being born and dying, he does not stare into the depths of these, since they vary. He looks up at the stars. And why? Because they are faithful – as they stand now, they stood for the patriarchs, and will stand for coming generations. By what means then does he conquer changing conditions? Through the eternal: By means of the eternal, one can conquer the future, because the eternal is the foundation of the future.”
Watercolour painting of a Prickly Hakea. I started drawing different plants last month from the area where I live. This month I am turning them into watercolours, with the Hakea being one of the first.
The nearby pine tree has dropped quite a few pine cones, all in different states of decay. I enjoy looking at the different shapes, sizes and colours of each cone, each with its unknown story.
My first attempt at a concertina birthday card. While simple to make, it can be a bit fiddly and getting the proportions and placement of objects right for each layer is important so that everything can be seen once the layers are overlapped. It reminds me of printing processes, where each layer is gradually added. It was quite an enjoyable process.
What happens in your life that causes you to be surprised? I have a friend who told me that no one is blind-sided. I also have a friend who tells me: 'The greatest lies we tell are the ones we tell ourselves'. It is easy to filter in a certain kind of lie that support these ideologies. I have a very valued friend who tells me that we live in an upside-down world. What is real? What is upside-down? Draw what you see. draw what you know. Be authentic. Peace.
This quick sketch of an impressionist painting is a reminder to me of how we cannot see anything until we are taught to see it. I was enjoying the painting because of the way Tarbell captured light, when a man and his wife joined me. The man said to his wife: "This is a wonderful painting, but I wonder whose lap the baby is on.". I was shocked because I was not able to see the baby till he mentioned that there was one. I noticed that it was indeed difficult to tell whose lap it was on. It was a transformative and humbling experience.
