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Those of you who follow along here know that last week I started a new project here on this blog called My Nordic Adventure. This week’s entry: Swedish mittens! I hope you like them.
BTW, I was pretty excited when my favorite travel magazine AFAR posted about My Nordic Adventure in their Reading List: 8 of Our Favorite Stories This Week. Thank you, AFAR!!
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{Today’s Reconstructionist: Maya Angelou}
As some of you know, my first career was as an elementary school teacher. I taught a first and second grade combination class for several years in a row, and every day there was a period of time dedicated to sitting in a circle, singing and ready poetry. My kids loved it, and so did I. It was sometimes the only period in the day when there were never any altercations among students or frustrations with learning. One day, one of my students (named Ivory) came in and announced that he would like to recite a poem for the class that his grandmother had helped him memorize. Ivory was extraordinary in many ways, and so I was not surprised. Turns out he had memorized Maya Angelou’s “Still I Rise” — every word of it (except the stanza about sexiness, which I think his grandmother omitted on purpose!). The class and I sat dumbfounded and moved as Ivory recited this beautiful poem with perfect cadence and inflection.
Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
I have been profoundly moved by Angelou’s poetry over the years, and this was just one of those occasions. Maria and I are so excited to present her as this week’s Reconstructionist.
You can peruse all of The Recontructionists here.
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I am so excited that this year I was invited to participate in the Kala Institute Spring Auction & Exhibition. Kala-fornia: State of the Art 3 is a two week exhibition of works by “prominent California artists.” The exhibition culminates on the night of Saturday, April 27th with a lively gala event. I am very grateful to have been invited to participate in this amazing fundraiser & show.
I am donating one of my most recent works to the exhibition — a portrait of architect Julia Morgan, named (aptly) Julia Morgan (see above). The piece is 30×36 inches, gouache on wood.
Along with original artworks there will be unique art-related items and experiences offered up for auction at the event. And, of course, fine wine and exquisite food will be served.
Proceeds from this auction provide direct support for Kala Art Institute’s programs for artists and the public. If you are interested in attending (or bidding on my piece, above), you can learn more about the evening and purchase tickets here.
Have a great weekend, all!
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Some of you may remember filmmaker Faythe Levine for her 2009 documentary, Handmade Nation (also a book, published by Princeton Architectural Press). Since 2010, Levine and her filmmaking partner Sam Macon have been researching, following, interviewing and filming sign painters for their latest film: Sign Painters. Faythe Levine (incidentally a close friend of mine!) is profoundly interested in the significance and endurance of craft in our culture. This film takes a deep look at one craft — its history, its people, its techniques & its future.
The film is nothing if it’s not timely. The world of hand sign painting began to wilt with the invention of vinyl letters in 1982. And now, with the birth of new technologies, the art is under an even greater chance of extinction with even more cheaper, quicker alternatives to hand painted techniques. And, yet, to many of us, there is nothing as beautiful as a bold and colorful hand painted sign, large or small.
{Levine and Macon}
It may be this attraction to the aesthetic that drew Levine and Macon to the subject matter in the first place, and sign painting’s uncertain future (along with its cast of characters) makes for what looks like a brilliant, compelling film. Here’s the trailer:
The film is now also a book (also published by Princeton). In addition, Levine and Macon are currently booking screenings (US and abroad) for 2013. You can find out when the film is coming to your town (or a town near you) by checking the event page on their website (they’ll be adding dates and locations as they book them), or to follow them on Twitter & Facebook. The film will be released in theaters later this month.
Happy Wednesday.
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Two weeks ago I started a beginning yoga program. Those of you who know me well might be thinking, “WHHHHHAAATT???” But, yes, it’s true. I did.
So here’s the story: I had to quiet my mind, and there is no way in hell (at least not yet) I’d be able to meditate. So I started with what they say is the preparation for meditation: yoga.
I’ve always been a yoga nay-sayer. Too touchy-feely (I think the current term is “woo woo”). Too slow moving. Not aerobic enough. Confusing. Too many words I don’t understand. Too many sequences I can’t remember.
But then I got desperate. I am working really hard on living in harmony with life’s challenges, and so many people in my life (people I trust) swear by yoga as a calming, centering influence — a way to put the stuff we stress out about in perspective. So when we moved to Oakland a month ago, I started looking to see if there were yoga studios in my neighborhood. And sure enough, there are. And I walked into one three weeks ago and asked if they had a beginners program. The woman at the front desk told me they just started one, and the first class was Tuesday. I took this as a sign.
So the following Tuesday I went. My teacher’s name is Avenelle, and from the minute I met her, I loved her. So that helped. She is a great teacher and explains everything (basic hatha poses and sequences and what they represent). She is so gentle and kind. And she has a great sense of humor. The class is tiny. I’m with other beginners and nay-sayers. And I don’t feel confused or lost.
And, so yah, I actually like it. Not only do I like it, but it seems to be working. I am learning not to hold my breath. And I am feeling more relaxed. I am worrying less about stuff over which I have no control. And I am sleeping better.
I think in a couple weeks I’ll be ready to graduate out of the beginner program to a regular yoga class, which I am a little nervous about (it’s like wanting to stay in kindergarten forever). But I’m also sort of excited. I found something that is helping to make me feel more grounded and less anxious. I have a long way to go (both in yoga and in developing a stronger sense of equanimity in my life in general), but I am glad to have taken this leap. It’s reminding me that I am often so judgmental about things I really know nothing about. And that keeping an open mind can change everything.
Happy Wednesday.
Friends, I’m very excited today to introduce my latest personal project: My Nordic Adventure. Remember last fall when I went to Iceland, Sweden, Denmark and Finland for three weeks? That trip (which you can read about in the Travel & Adventure category of this blog) was a dream come true. Through this ongoing project, I’ll share with you some of what I experienced & saw there. I collected and drew (and am still drawing) images of architecture, textiles, food, packaging, chairs, signage, and on and on. Every 1-2 weeks I’ll post an entry in the series: a collection of things (like the collection of doors, above) or just one image with some hand written reflections or a photograph montages with lettering and line drawings. I might throw in some hand drawn maps and I’ll even post some images of the actual travel journal I kept during the trip.
Today’s entry: doors! I love doors, and some of the doors I saw during this trip were exquisite. In Copenhagen and Stockholm I loved the hand lettering of door numbers. I have so many photographs of doors that I may even have to do a second installment of door paintings for the series.
Unlike previous and current personal projects (Collection a Day, 365 Days of Hand Lettering, The Reconstructionists), this project will not fall on a specific regular schedule or day of the week. However, I’ll be posting generally every 1-2 weeks here on this blog. Stay tuned for my next entry in the series later next week. Thank you for following along, and please share with others you know who love travel (or Nordic countries, in particular).
Happy Tuesday and welcome to My Nordic Adventure!
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Today’s Reconstructionist: the magnificent Madame Curie, Polish physicist & chemist, who worked mainly in France, famous for her pioneering research on radioactivity. Read more here.
Stay tuned tomorrow for the launch of a brand new personal project which will be featured here on this blog. I am very excited to share it with you!
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Over the past 8 years that I have been working as an artist, I have met and befriended some incredibly inspiring people. Near the top of my “I want to be like ____ when I grow up” list is artist Sarajo Frieden. Sarajo lives and works in Los Angeles, where she draws and paints and illustrates for a living. What first attracted me to Sarajo’s work is its depth: every painting or drawing or collage is layered and detailed exquisitely. Even her monochromatic line drawings are fantastically complex.
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The style of our work is very different, but Sarajo and I have a few things in common: our work is generally very narrative (evokes a “story” even when there isn’t one written), we love to work with shape & pattern, and we are both inspired by folk culture and history. For these reasons, I developed a kinship with Sarajo early on, even before I met her in person for the first time.
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I first met Sarajo in person in 2008 when she came to San Francisco to have a show in my gallery (I curated a space from 2007-2010). I was already enamored by Sarajo’s work, but I instantly fell in love with Sarajo the person. She is extremely kind and warm and wise, and I am so glad to know her. Like artist Helen Dardik (who I wrote about here), Sarajo and I are represented by the same illustration agency, so I get to see her at least once a year.
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Recently Sarajo updated her website, and you can see a full range of all of the beautiful work she has done over the past few years.
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Some of her hand lettering work is my favorite.
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You can keep up with what Sarajo up to by signing up for her lovely and always engaging email list.
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As many of you know, I am mildly obsessed with glaciers and icebergs. I’ve written about them here and here. I’ve been painting and drawing them for several years. This past year, I even visited the Jökulsárlón Glacial Lagoon in Iceland, which I wrote about here. So I was really excited when I found out last year that a new film was being made about glaciers featuring pioneering environmental photographer and global warming activist James Balog and his work to capture them on film. That film, Chasing Ice, premiered last year and is on a run around independent theaters right now. I had the privilege of seeing it last night in San Francisco.
Sure, the film is awe-inspiringly beautiful (a combination of the filmmakers’ shots and Balog’s photography grace the screen for 75 minutes). To me, glaciers and icebergs are some of the most stunning sights in the world (hence my obsession with them). But the film is also heart-breaking. With a team of young engineers and assistants, Balog sets out to conduct the The Extreme Ice Survey — deploying time-lapse cameras across the brutal Arctic (from Alaska to Greenland to Iceland) to capture a multi-year record of some of the world’s glaciers. And what makes the film sad are the results: Balog’s stunning time-lapse videos compress years into seconds and what were at one time enormous glaciers (which previously had stood at relatively the same size for thousands of years) recede (break apart and melt) at record speed over the course of a few years. Balog argues that most of this now-quick recession is a result of climate change, which he describes as simply as “changes in the air.”
What makes this film important and inspiring are two things: 1) the power of the individual to shine enormous light on an urgent global issue. Sure, Balog deployed a team and had tremendous support. But without him, this project never would have happened 2) the fact that through Balog’s photography we can see, with our own eyes, undeniable evidence of what is happening in the arctic. It’s no longer just a story we hear. It’s real. What the film doesn’t adequately explore is the impact of these changes in the arctic on the rest of the planet (though their website has some great information). I suppose that is another film.
As I mentioned, Chasing Ice is playing around the world in the next few weeks. You can see the current schedule here. You can watch the trailer here.
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Midwest friends: I’m thrilled to announce that I am speaking this year at Moxie Conference, a one-day conference for creative professionals in Chicago.
Moxie was so popular last year that tickets sold out in 8 hours, so be prepared to snag them when they go sale on Tuesday, March 12th. They’ll announce the ticket release on Moxie’s Twitter (@moxiecon). Have questions in the meantime, email them.
You can learn more about the conference (a bit about it & other speakers) and register here.
Happy Wednesday.
{hand lettering on a photo taken Sunday in my new bedroom}
Two weeks ago, I moved to Oakland. I first wrote about my feelings here, and a little bit about the move right after it happened here.
I knew I would love my new house & neighborhood, and I really do. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the deep sense of disconnection I would feel once I got here. Moving into adorable house in cute neighborhood ≠ instant happiness.
In fact, it can be very confusing when on the outside everything looks perfect (new house! new furniture! new studio! beautiful new neighborhood!) and on the inside you are feeling depressed and lost. Maybe some of you have been there.
Friends in whom I confided about my anguish reminded me that moving (even a move in the positive direction toward more desirable circumstances) can feel extremely jarring, and that breaking up a life of routines and familiar sites and sounds can completely throw off one’s equilibrium.
I am happy to report that about two and a half weeks in, however, I seem to be emerging from my dark place. I am starting to build new routines and feel more familiar with my new spaces (home and studio and neighborhood). I am starting to wake up again feeling excited about my day and not feeling a sense of dread.
So needless to say, I’m relieved.
Today I am heading into San Francisco for the day to work. Every time I go there now, I feel something I never knew existed when I lived there. I know that someday I will feel a deep love for Oakland (it’s a pretty cool place), but that it’s just going to take time. Which brings me to the topic of patience. But that’s another blog post.
Have a great day, friends.
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I love Margaret Kilgallen’s work. In 2005, the year her monograph Margaret Kilgallen: In the Sweet Bye & Bye was released, I got the red tree from the back cover tattooed on my left arm. Kilgallen (we would have been the same age) died of breast cancer in 2001.
{the back cover of The Sweet Bye and Bye; my tattoo}
The other day I learned that Art21 had recently released a new exclusive video: The Heroines of Margaret Kilgallen. I love hearing Kilgallen talk about her work (much of it through Art21′s footage over the years), so I was excited to hear about it. In this particular video, which was filmed in 2000, she is tagging trains with her husband, fellow artist Barry McGee. She goes on to talk about three of her heroines: banjo musician Matokie Slaughter, blues guitarist and buck dancer Algia Mae Hinton, and early 20th C. Olympic swimmer Fanny Durack.
About some of her heroines, she says: they “did small things but hit me in my heart…I wouldn’t know what they would look like at all. But I would imagine what they look like. And I would draw it,”
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MK, may you always rest in peace.
Have a wonderful weekend.
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Have totally lost sight of this recently. Getting back on track this week with the love. It is the key to all good things.
Happy Thursday, friends.
{Vestige, by Lisa Kokin}
I became acquainted with the work of Lisa Kokin in early 2012 when we were both part of the Do Not Destroy exhibition at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco. Once I saw it, I fell immediately in love with Lisa’s work. Lisa won the Dorothy Saxe Invitational Award for Creativity in Contemporary Arts for her gorgeous piece Fauxliage: No Birds Sing, which was part of the show at the CJM.
I was excited to learn that Lisa teaches classes in her El Sobrante studio, mostly about using thread and found materials in mixed media work. I am thrilled to be taking Once Removed on Sunday, March 17. As many of you know, I am a collector of vintage photos and periodically use them in my work. I am really looking forward to learning from Lisa about combining both vintage photographs and sewing techniques. Workshop participants will work with found photos, found papers, books and other small found objects to create collages, sculptures or books. Lisa will teach hand- and machine-sewing techniques, gluing, stapling, and binding for attaching the photos to other surfaces and objects.
{Forget-Me-Not, by Lisa Kokin}
Space is still open for the Once Removed class. You can learn more and email Lisa about registering here. You can see the full range of Lisa’s work on her website.
Happy Wednesday!
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