Mid Covid Check-In, and Delayed Art Show

 Hello!

I update this blog when I have art news, OR when I think of it AND am at a desktop computer AND am not currently on the clock. We're in luck today!

It's been so long since that last post about the art show for which I designed business cards and a logo. Since then I got a solo art show at the community center in my neighborhood...scheduled for April 2020. I also have had plenty of face painting gigs, the most recent of which was scheduled to be...in April 2020.

The art show was delayed due to Covid-19 lockdown. I got the news days before I was supposed to install it. Then this summer when things seemed to be opening up, the show was rescheduled for September and October 2021. Yay! But now, with the "fourth wave" of Covid moving through, it has been delayed until an unspecified time in 2022. Argh.

Obviously (I hope), I haven't done any face painting since that time. I miss that one! So intimate and personal.

By the way, check out how my glasses filtered the black light in this picture from 2019's Arts a Glow festivities! I'm almost sorry I noticed... ;-)

Regarding the art show, I had had a great plan. I was going to do a show that had a bunch of pet portraits I'd been doing lately, and a couple pieces of or by my Gramma, who passed away in November 2019 at age 100. I wanted to use my art pieces to help explain one aspect of my relationship to my Gramma. She loved that I am an artist, and always felt a bit like she contributed to it. She would send me stationery or cards with a note like "you could be doing this!" She would send me those giant cheap art booklets they used to sell in the 80s, like "how to draw the human figure for fashion" or "how to draw animals for cartoons." I have all of her old oil paints, and when I helped her and Grampa move closer to Mom and Dad in 2008, she had me sort through her portfolio and take whatever I wanted. There was so much there. 

Boy, some of her art was so creepy! Lol. It wasn't supposed to be. She did a charcoal drawing of a baby monkey being given a bath, and wow. I think that's one of the drawings I took--hopefully I remembered to take the source photograph too. I think she just tended to fall victim to that artists' conundrum where they draw too many lines instead of shading. I have grown to enjoy creepy art, but as a kid sometimes her art didn't work for me. However, I just wanna say, I love her landscapes now. I don't know how I didn't recognize how well they capture the dry grassy hills of northwestern California (I included one of those paintings further along in this post).

I'm willing to bet she was copying this photo. 

Anyway, here's the specific seed of my art show idea. I visited Gramma in August 2019, when I was in town for a high school reunion. She wasn't a feeble 100-year-old, and got around quite well in her wheelchair. I wanted to give her some long visits but I didn't think I would have enough to talk about for a long visit. I decided that a fun way to extend the visits could be to do some one-hour paintings. 

I bought a sample kit of acrylics (red, blue, green, yellow, black and white), a set of small canvases, some cheap brushes and a tabletop easel. Each day before or after reunion activities, I'd drive to her assisted living place (Mountainview, a fine facility) and do paintings while she watched. Under her supervision I created three one-hour paintings over three visits. 

When I do a one-hour painting, I prefer to not allow myself to touch them up later, because they're like sketches: practice. I tell you that as an excuse to cover their flaws. I felt a bit medium about them. 

Gramma tried laying claim to each painting, but I told her she had to pick ONE, and I was taking the others. She picked the first one, and guarded her ownership of it aggressively. It wasn't even one I liked much; I didn't like the color of green paint I had available to me, the kitten was cutesy, I couldn't see the colors well in her dim room so there's yellow around its eyes that I'd rather wasn't there, etc. But man, she loved it. Sometimes other residents or staff would stop by and watch for a minute or so. I would take a break with her and eat lunch in the lunchroom at her table, and she would bring her green kitten with her so that I wouldn't "accidentally" put it in my bag when I left.

The Winning Kitten

In the end I borrowed the painting from her--with her watching like a hawk and making me swear I would bring it back--and made prints of all three paintings so she could enjoy the others too. I gave a print to one of her tablemates who had admired it. He was a kindly soul. It had apparently reminded him of past cats of his.

So back to the art show. I thought I would put the paintings in semi-chronological order. First, there would be a drawing I did when I was nine and Gramma was pissing me off. Surely all people who like to doodle and aren't good at expressing their feelings try doing so in sketch form. Well, I tried it, and even got Gramma to sit for me. She was driving me crazy and I felt like I really expressed it. Then Gramma went and loved the drawing, even framing and saving it for decades. Me drawing it, her saving it, her writing ON it: these feel very symbolic of our relationship.

My face goes off-screen because I didn't know how to do noses. I did hers all right because she sat for me--hadn't had anyone do that before.

Next there would be a painting of Gramma's, with an explanation of how she influenced me. Next a selection of pet portraits; they're almost all quite small, so I could have a 3x3 grid of them if I could hang them that way using the system at the community center. Among them would be the three I mention above, and three from a later visit I made to her, in early December 2019.

During that last visit, I was able to convince Gramma to try painting with me. 

She was really not doing well in general, and it had been a sort of emergency visit, cutting short Thanksgiving, because she was having mini strokes and being sent to the emergency room with some frequency. I didn't paint every day, and Gramma didn't watch me paint most of the time, but it was a way for me to be in the room with her. I would set up close to her bed and make sure that if she opened her eyes she could see I was there and painting. It was challenging, because it felt a little pretentious, and she had a hospice nurse sitting with her who would chat chat chat in a way that was friendly and well meaning but exhausting for introvert me. 

On the last day of my visit, Gramma was feeling better. During my visit I set up near her wheelchair and sometimes she would watch, sometimes nap. She seemed perky and interactive, compared to the previous days.

During her tenure at Mountainview, the staff had kept her very nicely occupied with crafts, exercises, gardening, and social events. Most of the time she'd refused to paint with me; I think over the years she'd just felt "done" with that part. I thought maybe the fact that she'd been missing out on her creative outlets might inspire her, so I invited her again. This time she joined in. 

My friend ended up buying the original and making a print for me so that I could put this into my show.

I had been doing a painting of my high school friend's pug. When I handed Gramma a canvas, she made it into her palette as well, and made a copy of my pug painting. Her hands were weak and unstable, and each movement required a lot of effort in terms of both concentration and stamina. All things considered, she did pretty damn well. 

See the palette dots upper right?

When she was done she was pretty exhausted. She'd been waking and napping a lot during my visit, so it was not surprising that she was pooped. I cleaned up, wished her good night, and told her I'd see her n the morning.

Within a few minutes of my leaving, she had another stroke, which was caught by her hospice nurse. Then it was back to the emergency room and the flurry of taking care of anything I could find that someone might need. She was bedbound and mostly incoherent most of the rest of my visit. Blessedly, she lived until my sister was also able to visit her a last time.

So the left side of my gallery was was going to be my and Gramma's early art, and the right side would be her last piece and maybe a photo of us together. The gallery folks warned me that people don't want to read a lot of text, so I wasn't sure how I was going to get my story across without words. I wrote a little five paragraph essay and hoped people would get intrigued. I was frankly a little relieved when the show was delayed.

She painted this in 1977 and titled it "Toomey Flats."

When it was rescheduled for this month, I panicked. So much had happened since then. Should I tell the same story? It felt old, like its moment was past. I would be the first post-lockdown show. Did I have anything to say about lockdown? Could I do some clever symbolic thing with mask designs and hand washing instructions? Could I figure out how to tell a story for my Afghan foster kid, as America withdrew from his country and civil war began? Should I find something to paint that showed how much the recent climate report had shaken me?

I have been uninspired this year. As you might imagine, even depressed. I don't know how to do art that tells my story without all my words also being necessary. All I know how to do is look at something in front of me and interpret it in a new location with new tools. 

Say, I have been enjoying Procreate (an app on my ipad that's similar to Adobe Photoshop). Maybe it can help me with conceptual stuff. 

You wanna know a little secret? An acquaintance has been getting pranked with a huge number of goat socks, goat art, goat jokes and postcards and surprise club memberships. Who knows how it happened. But I contributed a couple of images that I put together in Procreate, replacing his boyfriend with a goat or putting goats into his bathroom. So it's a lie that I've been uninspired. I've just had a hard time staying on my imagined target.

Considering I have no Photoshop experience I think I did pretty well!

I'm grateful for the creative outlet of this blog, even if I rarely remember it. This has been a fun project, doing this post.

Man.

I met with the owner of the business where I'll be showing artwork next month, and he said "I'd like 6 or 8 pieces, please. Do you have business cards? You'll want to have plenty, people always want those."

After I left the business, I went and sat down on a bench so that I could process. It sounded partially like this: "Argh! I don't want to give out my phone number, I'm an introvert! I don't want people looking at my Facebook, that's for family only! I don't want to send people to my blog, I can't waste an opportunity to properly market my artwork by forcing them to read my ramblings!" Plus I know how often I update this blog...

So, since getting accepted to show in the artwalk, I have been getting all sorts of business done, in a bit of a panic to be frank. Here are a bunch of bits.

Here is the art walk's website: Madison Park Art Walk.

I'll be showing here: Madison Park Jewelers. September 14 is the opening night. I'll also have a single piece at the Starbucks up the street.

I've made a website: Alyson Lapan the dilettante.

I photographed all sorts of work I have sitting around, to have something to put in the website. Some of it was buried in one of the four portfolios under my bed. Hmph!

I made myself a logo:

I like the way it looks. Not bad for 2 days' work. Impulsive!!

I got business cards printed...WITH MY LOGO ON THEM.

BUT: I still have to produce the artwork.

Ok, that's not to say I don't have any work done. The problem is that I've been tootin' along, painting about 2-3 items a month, and suddenly I kind of want to have 15-20 pieces done, but I only have 8 completed to my satisfaction! Just like how the pressure of needing to do my taxes results in a very clean and organized house, the pressure to produce art is very helpfully resulting in all of the other stuff noted above. I guess I'm just going to have to take what I can get.

Wish me luck!

Submitted art for a couple local art shows

Well, I've gotten a little bit back into creating art. As I'd suspected, what I needed was an art buddy. A friend of mine and I have started meeting once a month at her house for a couple of hours, just to create. It's a pretty introvert-friendly plan. We talk about making it more complicated, by adding participants or changing locations, but haven't gone that far just yet.

She has a great garden, and often when I've gone to her house I end up painting flowers she has in her house. Here's an example:

Peony Bouquet

Another couple of recently-created works, randomly chosen:

Quilled Egg

Renton Sunrise

I have submitted some of these art pieces to two local art venues. Since one of the applications asked for my website--ha, so professional they expect me to be!--I gave them this one. Then I figured, I'd better have something appropriate on here.

All of the pieces I'm doing right now are on 8x8 pieces of plywood, because one of the shows only sells in that format. I kind of like using the "necessity is the mother of invention" concept, so I could imagine myself using those 8x8 pieces for quite a while! Plus it's great to imagine that art I'm creating might leave my house. It makes it a little more fun to do, because it means that I can do more than one painting that is similar in style or subject.

I will post links to the art shows if I get into either!

Update about experiments

Ha, I just read through the previous post. I thought I might write another post in 8 weeks!! It is to laugh.

Anyway, the art experiment didn't work out. I'm not doing any of those things I talked about. They were nice ideas, but life happens and so forth. I am still writing gratitude posts on Facebook, though, so that project is going just fine!

Experiments for 2016

I don't like "new years' resolutions." I like experiments.

I'm on Facebook, being of a Certain Age and definitely of whatever generation it is that enjoys Facebook. A while back, I believe in October, I impulsively started what I called The Gratitude Experiment. Each day I tried to post a statement of gratitude. I never explained to my Friends about what I was doing or what sort of standards I'd made for myself, and in fact I made them up as I went along. I just posted things with the heading "Gratitude Experiment, Day #."

Gratitude experiment, day 2: I'm grateful that I can enjoy my quirky sense of beauty, and share it with others in a way that sometimes causes them to see what I see. As an example, I'm grateful that one day an unseen kid waiting for their parents at the bank next door went around finding sweetgum seed pods and tucking them between each picket of my office's fence. They're still there a month later. I don't know why I haven't taken a picture.

It's been a really nice thing for me. For one thing, it seems to make other people happy, and they have occasionally told me so. It's so gratifying for someone to tell you that they like what you have to say. It gives my heart a good little thump to think that it also makes them happy. For another thing, the effort to come up with something is a fun puzzle and a boost when I'm having a bad time.

Here's an easy example of that last benefit: when it was time to go back to work after a satisfying and relaxing vacation, I was not quite ready. I didn't want to be back in the rut. I didn't want to be grateful for the stupid rut. So I thought about what was bugging me, and considered what might be good about it, and posted the following:

"Gratitude experiment day 71: today I am grateful to get back to work. I certainly love my days off, but it's hard to appreciate them properly without a basis of comparison."

Considering how Distractible I am, it's amazing to report that the following January I am still posting numbered Gratitude Experiment posts. I did announce one rule, which is that I'm allowed to skip days for the sake of spending time with loved ones. I announced that as much for me as for my "readership." Like my mom, I have a tendency to follow an self-set rule religiously, but if I break it, I might as well give up for all I care about it anymore. So with this new rule, I wanted to remind myself that even though I was numbering the days, it didn't mean they had to be sequential so I could just calm down thank you.

I will tell you what the rules actually are, for in case you would like to do this. And you should. It's fun, satisfying, and generates good feelings.

 The Rules for the Gratitude Experiment

Try to be grateful for one specific thing each day.
Tell other people that thing, so that you can share the good feelings.
Try not to repeat yourself, or at least try to come at a subject from a different angle if you do.
Try to be specific.
Give your reasoning.
Especially do this if your day sucks, because that's when it helps the most.
If you need to break the rules, it's ok. This is not supposed to stress you out. Make up new rules if you need to. It's your thing.


I was inspired by someone's photographic experiment. They encouraged folks to try posting a photograph of something that made them happy every day. To be fair, here is the link to that inspiration: The 100 Happy Days Challenge.

So all of this is meant to lead up to my Experiments for 2016.

I like experiments. You don't have to commit. It takes the pressure off, and makes you more likely to bother at all. In fact, here's a gratitude post about it, if I haven't already been excessive with those:

"Gratitude experiment day 67: today I am grateful that my husband and my family, throughout my life, have encouraged or at least accepted my inclination towards behavior experiments. Some have caught on (we always plan our week's meals on a small whiteboard before grocery shopping), some worked for a year then petered off (Media-Free Tuesdays were family game night while my stepson lived here), and some were well-intentioned but shorter-lived (we chose a new donation recipient every month for about four months before collaboration on the choice slowed us down). I love that the experiments don't have to work, you just try them and see. I don't do New Years' resolutions...but I have a couple experiments I plan to try."

So for this new year, I contemplated what I wanted to change about my life. I came up with two things:

• I would like to get back to reading books. I still read a lot, but ever since I got my iPad it's all been articles and blog posts, not books. 
• I would also like to learn how to generate creative content more consistently. I've been an artist, writer and dilettante my whole life, but inspiration only comes maybe once every couple of months. It's not enough to look at what I've done; I want things to Do.

Regarding the reading, I decided that the best way to get myself to read more is to put books back in front of my face, meaning on my iPad. I've had the Kindle app all along, and the library's OverDrive app, but I needed to get passwords and usernames and email addresses all linked up, and that was a bit of a pain in the butt. Maybe it's easier for someone who totally grew up with the Internet, but it took me a while. Helpful hint: OverDrive is more of a audible book format so just check out Kindle books from the library and skip OverDrive entirely unless you need that format for a road trip or what have you.

Regarding the generation of creative content...well, that's where this blog post comes in!  Kind of. 

I had contemplated the idea that one thing keeping me from working on artistic output was that I was relying on impulse. There's nothing wrong with an artistic impulse; in fact, that's how most of these blog posts get written. I made some new block printed thank you cards just last weekend, on an impulse. But if the problem I've identified is that I'm not generating artistic output in a satisfyingly regular way, impulsive efforts are not quite enough.

So I have two plans: schedule art, and take note of artistic output.

In order to remove the requirement for impulsivity, I'm trying to actually schedule an hour (or more) of artistic output each weekend. I'm trying to be as specific as I can, though that can be difficult. This week my "assignment" was to write a blog post, and not just any blog post but an essay about my plan (see?). Next weekend, I have planned to do a one hour still life painting of something floral.

I'm trying to let the type of output vary, largely on my husband's intelligent suggestion. This is a list of my options--as much as I can think of right now:

• music
• guitar
• singing (choral, karaoke, whatever)
• iTunes/Youtube
• mandolin
• ocarina
• 2d
• oil, acrylic, watercolor
• pen and ink
• block prints
• pencil
• computer (Windows Paint, etc) 
• paper dolls
• photography
• 3d
• ceramics
• whittling: soap or wood
• stained glass
• household crafts like building shelves
• craft kits already acquired (ie paint that Matryoshka doll, miniature display shelf, etc)
• Sculpey
• papermaking
• woodburning
• writing
• blog posts
• short fiction
• write a play: 2 minute, etc
• essays
• auto-biography
• letters
• theater
• improv
• acting classes
• teaching
• stained glass
• block prints
• painting
• culinary
• they can't all have subheadings.

So my plan is to try to schedule an activity related to one of those things once per weekend. A guitar lesson, an improv class, a blog post, etc.

I also realized that I don't give myself enough credit for the output I DO generate. I want to try and pay attention to that. For example, I experiment with new recipes a lot and am learning some good stuff there, and that really should count as something worthy of note and satisfaction. I also sat around making a Youtube playlist of choral songs I know, and I sang along with them. Purely personal output--only shared with my husband--but perhaps it should count too.

A brief glance at my earlier posting dates for this blog will demonstrate to you the idea that you can't count on me to tell you how this goes. You know what, though? Here's what I'll do. Since I'm cycling through a lot of stuff, a blog post once a month seems like a lot to ask. But I'll write "blog post about progress of experiment" into my datebook for 8 weeks from now, and by golly, if this is working, that's when you'll hear about it. 

March 5, 2016. Maybe see you then, no pressure.

Recipe: Asparagus gruyere eggs with polenta

On the weekends I post items to Facebook a lot.  I've already posted at least twice, maybe more today.  The problem is, breakfast was really good and I wanted to share that.  I've decided that I can say so here and get it out of my system.  Breakfast was really good!

It was leftovers and foods that needed to be thrown out soon, and that made it all the more satisfying.  Ha.  So I'm giving you the recipe.  If anyone needs me to I will try write the recipe the way you're Supposed To, but for now it's written how I would write it for myself.

Asparagus Gruyere Eggs with Polenta

asparagus
spinach
eggs
pre-shredded gruyere/Swiss cheese mix from Trader Joe's
pesto
pre-cooked polenta
olive oil
pepper
largish and smaller nonstick frying pans

In one largish frying pan on medium heat, pour some olive oil. Probably around a tablespoon.  Slice the polenta, which you buy in a tube and can slice with a butter knife, into slices about 1/2" thick.  Maybe three slices per adult.  Put the slices in the pan.  Sprinkle pepper on the polenta, and leave to cook.  I added a spatter screen because the water from the polenta combined with the oil can get a little spitty.

In a smaller pan, again on medium heat, pour some water. Maybe 1/4 cup.  Next comes the asparagus.  Re: asparagus, did you know that before you use it, you should snap each stalk in half and discard the bottom?  It apparently breaks at the natural point to help you avoid woodiness or something.  Whatever, just do it.  Then slice the asparagus into 1/2" pieces (or smaller) and put them all in the pan.  Let them cook for a little while.

Flip the polenta and pepper the new side just before doing the next step.

When the asparagus starts to smell like it's cooking (flip the polenta) then add a handful or so of spinach to the asparagus and stir them around.  Make sure the water doesn't ever cook off completely, because it's steaming things but also acting like oil would and keeping everything from sticking.

When the spinach is wilty and the water almost gone, add eggs.  I usually like two per adult, but because the polenta is filling, I only added three eggs for me and the Hubby.  Break the yolks and mix them into the greens.  Let that cook for a moment.

Add a pinch of gruyere cheese to the top of each polenta slice.

Mix the eggs again and add some gruyere to them.  Stir occasionally until no part looks too shiny.  "Too shiny" means not cooked enough.

When the eggs look almost done, turn off the heat under the pan and turn your attention to the polenta.  Move the slices from the pan to the plates and spread some pesto on each slice.  Then divide the eggs between the plates, either on or beside the polenta, and serve.

There you go.  I've never tried to post a recipe before so we'll see whether this is adequate.  Some other day I might post a photo of the food, but frankly we ate it too fast to think of that.

There is a thing my Mom and I do, and maybe my Sister, when food is extra good.  We take the occasional bite with a flourish of the spoon, like "bite--ta dah!"  When I find myself doing that, it is Good.  I did that this morning.

Tiling the Plane: making patterns like MC Escher

Funny to look back on this blog.  It certainly exemplifies its name, although I can't see that aspect attracting people to read it.  I mean really!  Posts in 2011, and then 2014?  I'll never have regular readers, because my posts aren't regular.

Perhaps I don't need people to read it.  This is not to say that you, the random person who is peeking at this right now who is not me, are not welcome.  Welcome!  But personally I wonder if I am more likely to write or be creative here if I just assume that no one will see it unless over my shoulder in the kitchen.  Which is where my computer is, by the way.

That's all right. 

So it turns out I like to teach things that I know.  When my husband's brother visited to see Hubby's play, one evening I taught him how to design, carve and print "linoleum block prints."  I put that in quotes because nowadays it's not actually linoleum, thank GOD!  If I had to stick with linoleum my hands would be much more scarred than they are now.  Nowadays it's that white eraser material.

ANYWAY.  So last night Hubby and I went to see a play performed in someone's living room.  Who knew that kind of thing happens?  Afterwards there was schmoozing, and I ended up chatting with a pleasant lady about theater and glass and writing and inspiration.  Turned out she had to leave very soon, so I decided to give her a quick art lesson. 

...I had had a glass of wine.  I don't know if she really wanted to know this.

But, I gave her the briefest lesson I could in "tiling the plane."  One minute.  Way shorter than this post.  On my hand I drew an invisible square and gave instructions; she nodded like a very kind person who might or might not have any idea what I was talking about.

So, "tiling the plane."  Ever heard of it?  I learned it in math class in junior year of high school.  Many thanks to my wonderful math teacher from that year; I would mention him by name but I don't know if he would care for that.  Anyway, it's a fun little activity if you want to inspire your creativity, and you don't actually have to know math to do it.  It is just a good illustration of geometric concepts I can't remember now.

Remember MC Escher's patterns of birds and fish (etc)?  For copyright reasons I can't just show you one, but have a look at this link: http://www.mcescher.com/gallery/ink/no-41-two-fish/  He is using the method of "tiling the plane" to create that pattern.  You can too.

So here's what you do. 

Choose a geometric shape.  A square is your best bet to start with, although triangles and hexagons work.  I don't think I would suggest a pentagon because of the odd number, nor octagon because of the complexity.  But they might work.  *shrug*  NO to a circle.  Won't work.

Next, draw a squiggle or shape along one side.  Don't make it too drastic and dramatic at first; you'll see why later. I would say you should draw in black so that you can color your shape in later, but I will use blue and green so that it's easier to refer to.

Now you need to copy that squiggle to the opposite side.  If you're doing this on paper, just trace your blue line and mark where the corners of the square are, then use those corner marks to help you see where to trace it onto the opposite side of your square.  In Microsoft's Paint program I had to select the blue line and copy it, then paste it onto the other side.  Imperfect process but you'll get the idea.

Repeat the process for the remaining side of the square: draw a line on one side, then copy it to the other.  The trick here is paying attention to your blue lines.  Since your green line is going to repeat, you don't want to draw it so that it will cross over the blue line.  Imagine how it will repeat below as you draw it above.

Now, the reason this shape is fun is that you can use it as a repeating pattern.  In the same way that you can have a grid made up of squares, you can use your underlying square from this image to create a grid of your new shape.  Look at my image below: see how my squares are in there too?

This is what I meant about "you'll see later:" if your lines are too dramatic before you understand the way they will repeat, or if you don't know to take the previous (here, blue) lines into account, you might make something that is impossible to repeat without drawing over itself.

 I suggest coloring in the tiles in a checkerboard pattern to make the shapes easier to make out.  Then you can see what the overall impression of your pattern will be.

And that is "tiling the plane."

If you're like my Gramma and enjoy finding pictures in random shapes, this might work for you: stare at your shape and try doodling in it.  Whatever it might look like.  You can repeat that over and over again, or find a new doodle for each shape.

I'm pretending it looks like some sort of cartoon dinosaur.  Don't pop my bubble.  I know it's a stretch.

That doodle method is kind of working backwards: finding an image in your shape.  Working forwards, you would be trying to actually create the image from the start.  This is what Escher did, but I'm afraid I just don't know how. I wonder whether he experimented a LOT, or whether he had a mathematical formula he used.  You can look that up if you want.

Escher got much more complicated about it in order to have more than one shape that repeated (like the birds and fish together, etc).  I don't how to do that right now (I think maybe I could figure it out) so I'm not going to try to teach you.

You know enough for some doodling time now anyway.  Live it up!