Some days are harder than others. Sometimes you can't wait to take some Nyquil and curl up in bed with a box of Kleenex and some snoring dogs. And, even though you're sick, you sleep soundly embraced by dreams and watched over by your own guardian angels.
Writing Prompt: Who Watches Over You?
Unfortunately, I came down with another sinus infection over Easter, but I haven't let that stop my art projects this week. As I wrote the other night I've begun some drawings to accompany one of my student's book projects. I sent them to him this week and he likes them enough that he has asked me to continue. I also have been starting some new collages. Actually, revisiting some collages I began and abandoned a while back. One of them, featured above, has to do with life and death and everything in between. It tentatively is entitled "Osprey" because the nest in the center of the image is an osprey nest I photographed at a writers' retreat a couple of years ago. I was looking through my rough draft file and stumbled on the image below, which I began adding to last night.
I still haven't completed the digital part of the image and I anticipate doing a lot of hand-sewing on this one around the nest and some of the background. I thought people might be interested in seeing how I get from here to there. One of the writers' in the Hubbard Hall Writers' Project, Rachel Barlow, does wonderful animation on her blog and I've been interested in learning how to do the same. I haven't tried it with any of my drawings yet, but I did figure out how to make a .gif file of the steps in my collage process to share here. This doesn't show everything I did, such as changing the girl's hair color, but it shows a number of the steps and decisions I have made thus far. Enjoy!
Also, here's another teaser drawing from my student's book.
I'll keep you posted on the progress. In the meantime, I wanted to remind you that my limited edition print, Dogs Dancing at the Carousel, is still on sale for another week. I've sold several and am very excited as it is my first limited edition offering.
Last night I wrote a blog post called “My Children” about my nieces and nephews and the void they fill in my life. Lately, I have been feeling a parent’s sense of pride in another group of individuals – my students.
I teach at a local community college in Lebanon, NH and my students there run the gamut from 18-year-old matriculating college students to middle-aged men and women, often teachers, seeking professional development to seniors there for adult enrichment and everyone in between. For the last five years or more, I have also been teaching privately in the home of another student, where a small group of select writers have been working on long-term projects. This week I added a new student to the mix, a young women with a great story to tell of working for a large corporation during the economic recession. I found myself excited by her vivid detail and equally as proud as my long-time students shared their work. One of them has been working for the duration of our class on a children’s fantasy book about a girl with cancer and the magical adventures she takes to experience healing including playing soccer with an elephant. This student asked me to try my hand at helping illustrate the story and I came up with the above photo. I haven’t shared it with him yet, but I know his wife follows the blog, so they may get to view it here first.
Another student at Lebanon College is writing her mother’s story. Her mother is a Holocaust survivor and this student is well on her way to creating a publishable work targeting middle-schoolers. I have been sharing with my students some of what I have learned as part of the Hubbard Hall Writers’ Project including the necessity of a blog in promoting one’s writing. This message has been underscored by some of the guest speakers who have come to class. I was pleasantly surprised to learn this week that my student had taken the advice to heart and launched her own blog: Popjeaandme, Popje being her mother’s childhood doll, who plays a prominent role in the story. In addition to being pleased by the fact that she had started a blog, I was also thrilled to see my student exploring some of the memories we discuss in class: the difficulty of faulty memory in writing a memoir, the definition of memoir and its ever broadening genre. In one of her most recent posts she asks the question that if she is writing her mother’s story is this truly a memoir? Is she a memoirist, a biographer? Is her work a pseudo memoir?
On my Pinterest page I keep a board called “A Memoir By Any other Name” which is a list of all the memoir-related books I thus far have found, attempting to deal with some of the challenges of memoir by redefining what the genre is called; thus, we get a para-memoir, a true-life novel, a biomythography, a mostly true memoir and a metaphorical memoir as well as new ways of telling stories such as graphic memoirs. I find this such an interesting part of the genre and I am thrilled that my student will be addressing some of these issues on her own blog even as she takes us on the journey of writing her book.
My students are not my children. Most are adults with fascinating stories to tell, but I can’t help but feel a pride in guiding them and seeing them gain more confidence and an increasing body of work. They continue to inspire me.
I'm excited to add my latest collage to the gallery tonight. Not only do I really love this piece, both the final product and the themes and images it conveys, but I am also thrilled to offer it as my first Limited Edition print. I am going to offer a series of 100 and to celebrate am presently offering them for the sale price of $55. The sale will end in the next couple of weeks and after that the price for a matted 16 x 20 print in a clear plastic sleeve will go back up to $75.
I am thrilled that my friend, Jon Katz, author of Dancing Dogs, purchased one of the artist proofs the other day. His wife, Maria Wulf, wrote about the piece on her blog today. I actually used two of Jon's dogs in the piece. His border collie, Red, is in the middle right of the collage, wearing a brown hat and dancing with the pug in the pink tutu. His deceased border collie, Izzy, is sticking his head out of the left-hand side of the carousel. I actually added Izzy after Jon saw an early draft of the collage and said he wanted to buy it. I decided to include Izzy as an added treat, although Red had already made his debut.
Although I use a combination of techniques from photography to hand-drawing to digital drawing to create my collages, this is the first time I so prominently mixed hand-drawn figures in with photographed ones. You can see the hand-drawn couple at the right of the image. I actually originally drew them as part of a series I was doing on the seven-deadly sins. The two pugs were supposed to be fighting and represent wrath, but when I finished them, I realized they looked like they were dancing and transformed them into partying pugs celebrating New Year's Eve for a New Year's post.
When I realized I was creating a collage of dancing dogs I decided to resurrect this couple and add them to this piece. The idea for the overall collage came from the iconic photograph of an American sailor kissing a woman in New York City. I knew I had the photos of the poodle and the Akita that take center stage and I thought they along with the carousel in the background conjured the same sense of romance and nostalgia that I see in Alfred Eisenstaedt's photograph. The rest of the dogs appeared on stage to dance, frolic and round out the scene. I love the idea of dogs dancing and it is a happy coincidence that Jon wrote a book by the same name. I think the image of dancing dogs reflects the happy-go-lucky nature of our canine friends. Although we love our dogs and share our lives with them, they are often at our feet or at the end of our leashes, yet, here they are free to celebrate and do their own thing unencumbered by a human hand. Here, the humans blend in to the background.
I love the lumbering Newfie to the right of the image. In reality, this photograph was of a large Newfoundland I met in our local dog park who was rolling in the dirt. By turning him on end, he is dancing. This piece is fun to me, but also tender and touching. Perhaps it is because we know the dance will eventually end, but maybe not. Here, it goes on forever.
Again, this collage is available on sale in the gallery and will be limited to 100 prints in addition to the few artist proofs already in existence. If you have any questions about my process or the piece feel free to inquire through the contact form on the blog or in the comments of this post.
I added some new collages and one I-pad drawing to my gallery for sale tonight. Many of you may recognize the I-pad sketch, Satisfied, which was a recent drawing that accompanied one of my blog posts. The other collages are new to the blog. Come Dance with Me and Don't be Shy are accompanying pieces to You Know the Song. The three, a triptych of pug ballerinas, deal with body image and performance. They also represent the three fawn pug females I have owned: Buffy, Mira and Alfie and each ballerina, I believe, displays their muses' personality perfectly.
The other three new pieces here are loosely based on Alice in Wonderland. Often when I set out to create a digital collage I have a fairytale in mind. My piece, Child of God, for example is reminiscent of Little Red Riding Hood. Each of these "Alice" pieces evolved from the next. All are available for sale.
If you’ve seen Silver Linings Playbook then you’ll understand this reference: I feel like it has been a week of “Silver Developments.” In the movie Bradley Cooper’s character, who suffers from bipolar disorder, has been released from a mental institution and is trying to improve himself with positive thinking. His mantra becomes “Excelsior!” and he attempts to see the silver linings in his daily life. When something good happens, he declares it a “Silver Development.”
I have had such a series of Silver Developments this week. Number One: Our mentor, Jon Katz, announced this week that the Hubbard Hall Writers Project, the group I’ve been a part of since last June, will be having a reception and reading of our work at Hubbard Hall in Cambridge, NY on May 31st. This is an exciting opportunity for each of us to share our writing in a wonderful venue.
Number Two: I received a call from a fellow writer on Thursday. We used to work together at The Valley Business Journal and she now writes for our region’s primary newspaper, The Valley News. She is writing an article on memoir writing and wants to interview me for the piece. I think it will be fun being the one interviewed for a change and it is great exposure.
Number Three: After a lovely lunch with the Common-Thread-Give-A-Way members at Jon Katz and Maria Wulf’s new Bedlam Farm, I had a great talk with Jon helping to define some future goals for my writing and this blog. I have some brainstorming and hard work ahead, but am really thrilled with the possibilities. I share all this not to boast, but to celebrate. This blog has been the beginning of a new creative journey for me and I can’t wait to see where it takes me. Excelsior!
Writing Prompt: Write about a Silver Development in your life.
Conversing with family can sometimes seem like a fencing match – Attack – Parry – Cut – Thrust – as you duck barbs and sling a few yourself; all in an effort to maintain your dignity. Family, better than any enemy, knows how to wound. They are familiar with the soft sensitive spots, the hidden underbelly of self, so susceptible to harm. Sometimes you see the blade coming and sometimes you are blind to it, finding it masked behind humor or feigned concern. Like a Changement de Rythme, broken time, a sudden change in the tempo of their actions, you become fooled. You respond when you should have remained silent. You say nothing when a word would do; you drop your defenses and allow them an in – they draw blood quicker and with more venom than any opponent and just as quickly, they change face becoming your savior and shelter, your comrade on the battlefield. Suddenly they appear at your side, embracing you and dragging you out of harms way. You may feel their sting, but damn anyone else who tries to inflict injury! You can never tell on any day, which face they will wear and so often they wear both – your mightiest foe and greatest defender in one. You flee from family, but always return, forever bound by blood and home, and that most complex of emotions – Love.
Writing Prompt: Write about a family gathering. How did everyone act?
The problem with pretending to be superhuman is that eventually you have to admit that you’re not. Such was the case today. Like many people, I often suffer from a sense of inadequacy. I find myself teaching a class or photographing a subject for an assignment and rather than feeling like a consummate professional I imagine myself as a child playing dress up. Still, I grin and bear it in an attempt to keep my mask from slipping and anyone noticing how I really feel.
True, not the most authentic approach, but what’s that common expression – “fake it until you feel it” – I wholeheartedly embrace it. Yet, sometime honesty must prevail, so when my student asked to meet today and go for a walk, knowing her love of hiking and biking, I informed her at the start that as much as I would love to take a casual stroll with her and catch up, I lacked her stamina. “As long as you’re aware, we should be fine,” I said.
When I arrived at her house we spent a good hour chatting in front of the teeniest, quaintest stove in her new writing cottage, when I finally asked her if we were going to go for a walk. She said yes and the first several yards went fine – flat, smooth surface, easy chatter and then, I realized that was probably enough. Yup, just a few short yards and I realized that a winter of being indoors writing articles and blogging had left me sadly out of shape. Add to this a history of bone spurs, Achilles tendinitis and improper footwear and I was ready to head back to that nice little stove and warm my toes. No such luck, my student walked The Loop and The Loop we were set to do.
The Loop started with a climb up Mt. Everest. Lifting my head to stare at its peak, I realized I was on an expedition. We hiked in silence for a few paces and then I felt the need to chatter to try to disguise the fact that I was grossly out of breath. As you might guess, this didn’t work, but still we climbed on. Although the day was freezing, I could feel my bangs sticking to my forehead and my sweater getting damp with perspiration. We made it to the pinnacle, took a turn, and there was the Everest of Everests – another vertical climb. “The Loop’s three miles,” my student informed me. Do you know what it’s like to lose all hope? I can now answer that question in the affirmative.
I’m not sure how much of the three miles we had already done, but I could safely say that if I had tried to finish it I would not be coming back alive – I was already seeing stars. My student must have sensed something was wrong because she told me that we could turn back anytime I wanted and that’s when my inner superhuman kicked into gear. I was her teacher after all, should I really reveal my human frailty?
“Let’s make it to the top,” I said, pointing to the mirage in the distance. Fortunately, I could not tell how far away it actually was because my eyes and nose were running from the cold. Soon I could see the face of Death and feeling his warm, sweaty breath upon my cheeks, I attempted to take a deep breath – but found I had no lungs left – and squeaked out, “I think we had better turn around.”
Fortunately, we did, although my student continued to ask me questions all the way back despite my panting, high pitch responses (I was whistling like a tea pot trying to take in air.) Yet, I answered. Like a soldier on the battlefield I endeavored to show no weakness. I’m not sure where this tendency began, but it is a hard habit to break. Obviously, my student had not been oblivious to my struggle and still I pretended to be Wonder Woman.
I read a quotation attributed to Georgia O’Keefe on Facebook today. She said, “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing that I wanted to do.” I love this sentiment, and I realized that I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life, too, but sometimes I let this lead me to do things I never wanted to do or should do in the first place, all in an effort to keep my game face on. It may be foolish, but it’s human and as humorous as this tale may be, it has an underlying moral, well, maybe two.
One, if you’re going to play the superhero at the very least you should have a cape, a mask, and a superpower and two, I really need to get in shape. I promised my student I’d be back for a walk this summer. Some people never learn.
Writing Prompt: When have you tried to be superhuman? Write about it.
This is a delicate matter and perhaps not something I should be blogging about at all. It is said among my dog loving friends that you can tell a true dog person by their willingness to discuss indelicate matters such as dog vomit and feces. This is something else all together. Yet, it has gotten to the point where I just need to share. I have told you all about Waffles penchant of knocking over trashcans, what I have not revealed is her motivation. Waffles is an addict and the source of her habit is her dependency on sanitary napkins and panty liners. New or used, she doesn’t care! She came to me with this foul addiction and although I have tried everything to break her of it, she still rises each morning and diligently knocks over each can like a string of dominoes in hopes of discovering a reward. If she cannot find her prize, she makes herself content with Kleenex, cotton swabs or dental floss, but this is not what she desires.
Granted, some dogs eat their own waste and roll in whatever disgusting thing they can find, so in the scheme of things, Waffles’ addiction may not be the worst there is, but it is still pretty bad. And, there is no Al-Anon or its equivalent to help family members cope, so I’ve been bearing this burden in silence. But now, with Alfie in season, our family secret has gotten to be too much. In order to keep from soiling the bedcovers, sofa and chairs, Alfie sports a colorful pair of panties, complete with neck strap, so it won’t slide off. You slip a panty liner inside and swap it as needed, just as any woman must during this time.
You can see the problem already can’t you? This is just too much temptation for Waffles – there it is, the object of her desire right inside Alfie’s pants. And, of course, the trashcans are filling up as well. It’s a virtual smorgasbord and my little addict is going crazy. We have already bungee corded the trash can in the kitchen to keep it from toppling, but that doesn’t prevent Waffles from standing on her tip toes and scratching away until she reaches something on top. The bathroom? Forget about it. I’m not sure when she does it, but every time I visit, there is already a trail of trash spread to the door and if you’re not quick, you’ll find her munching and licking away at her most coveted possession. I’m sorry if this tale disgusts you, it is not for the feint of heart, but my family unit may be in dire need of an intervention and at the very least this pug mama could use some support.
The pugs and I are taking a night off from blogging -- kind of. I couldn't resist posting this sketch. We'll be back tomorrow with a written post, but right now we're off to catch some Zs.