Redefined

Petah Coyne

On Wednesday, I drove down to Oklahoma City to hear an artist's talk by Petah Coyne, a very prominent contemporary artist from NYC. The talk was held at Untitled[ArtSpace], where they will be exhibiting Modern Materials, the art quilt exhibit I'm curating for next summer. Petah gave a delightful and insightful talk that made me realize that I don't necessarily think like some artists do.

When Petah was a younger artist, she had a compulsion for collecting dead fish and she used them to festoon the rafters of her NYC loft. After her husband developed an allergic sensitivity to them, she used the 5,000 fish to decorate other places instead. At one point, she discovered a charming home in Long Island and, in the middle of the night, strung lines through the trees outside the front door of the house, then hung a large number of the dead fish on the lines. She was so hurt the next day when the homeowner came outside and reacted negatively to the fish that decorated his front yard. To Petah, the fish were a great gift and she couldn't understand why the homeowner didn't love them the same way she did. As I have never collected dead fish or even decorated with one of them, I suspect that the left side of my brain must have a bigger hold on me than my artwork would suggest.

After the lecture, an extremely nice woman named Michi Susan took me out to dinner in The Paseo Art District, where she has a studio. She creates beautiful collaged artwork using paper. Not only did she pay for my food (I probably ate 95% of the calories between the two of us), but she also listened quite graciously to my incessant babbling. Afterward, we returned to the gallery and spent the night, along with Laura Warriner (the gallery founder) in the second floor bedrooms. What an amazing, art-filled place!

The next morning, we gathered up another woman and the four of us ate breakfast at a Guatamalan restaurant. The biggest surprise there was the way they prepared oatmeal. Imagine milk soup that has some oatmeal floating around in it. It was surpringly tasty, however.

After breakfast, we returned to the gallery and I had a planning session for Modern Materials with Laura, Jon Burris, (Executive Director), Jan Evans (Program Coordinator) and Autumn Daves (Development/PR Coordinator). We managed to get a lot done and, to help them with their work on the exhibit, I gave Jan and Autumn a couple of the cows that had wandered through the gallery model a while back. I hope that the cows bring them good luck and that the staff can save them from any future alien abductions.

New artwork

You may have seen them here before, but not since they've been professionally photographed. Here are my four newest artworks.

The first one is Miscalculated. I had this one dreamed up quite a while ago and the sketch for it is embarrassingly simple. I had intended for it to be a lot smaller than what it ended up being, which is 63" x 52", because I wanted to make this for an exhibit called A Sense of Humor. However, there was a very specific size range specified and I just couldn't make this fit those parameters. Oh well. After I posted this on my website, a friend wrote and made the comment that Miscalculated was a word that represented something singularly human, while many of my past works represented physical things. That made me realize that, for the past few years, it had been easier to deal with things than with emotions. I think I'm ready to change that.The second is Convoluted. When installed, it's about 15" h x 18" w x 18" d.,about the same size as Discombobulated. This is the fourth quilt of this type I've created and in some ways, I wish they would go away because they are a pain to arrange properly, but they have also become my signature, bread-and-butter pieces. I made this one particularly colorful and gave it a black binding in order to make the colors pop even more. The third is Picniced. Originally a joint project with two other people, I made new items to replace the ones they reclaimed after the exhibit was over. I am particularly proud of my BLT sandwich, which is entirely made of fiber materials, and my dill pickle, which is made of a lightweight modeling clay. My photographer happened to shoot it with the groundcloth propped up on the back of the backdrop so you could see the stream scene. Last week, I was looking at this picture and realized the genius of what he had done. I now plan to add a hanging sleeve at the stream end of the quilt and hang it low on the wall when it is displayed. That way, the picnicers can see the scene a lot better when they are eating their clay pickle and Tyvek bacon.
 

The last is Collapsed. I had this displayed in my solo exhibit last Fall, so it's not really a new piece. Leftovers from Collapsed went into Miscalculated and Convoluted, which is why the color schemes are almost the same. Although it's hard to see in this picture, there are six legs attached to the base. I suppose I could have used shorter legs, but I wanted this to be a freestanding work that didn't require a pedestal. It had to be tall enough so people wouldn't trip over it in an exhibit.

(Ah, now there's an idea. I could stretch a long, skinny quilt across the entrance to my next exhibit right at ankle level and call it Tripped. I could even set up a camera to watch the people stumble and make it into a video artwork, too. But before I do that, I'd better see if my finances could stand the inevitable lawsuits from disgruntled exhibit goers.)

Breaking my end-of-year curse

For the past several years, a strange pattern has developed in my art career. From January to about August, a lot of things seem to go right for me. I get accepted into juried exhibits, invited to be in invitationals, offered solo shows and so on. Then from the end of the summer until the end of December, it all dries up. I can't seem to find anybody to take my work, even though I've been burning incense and dancing the Exhibit Dance around roaring bonfires like all artists are supposed to do. I don't know why this pattern has been happening, but I think the curse has finally been broken.

Today, I received a phone call from the Visual Arts Center of New Jersey. One of my works was accepted into their International Juried Show, which is probably the top all-media exhibit in the U.S. today. The juror, Adelina Vlas, who is the Assistant Curator of Modern and Contemporary Art at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, chose 80 works from 1600 entries and Unmatched was one of them. Now I expect the two sides of my brain will begin fighting as to whether I should attend the opening or not. I have to admit that it's very tempting.

Conceptual craft

I have always had difficulty categorizing my work. In fact, when someone asks me what kind of art I create, I just hand them one of my brochures and let them make up their own mind. I find that so much easier than saying I'm a quilter because everyone has an image in mind of what a quilt is, namely a blanket with block designs like their grandmother made. Even if someone knows what an art quilt is, that doesn't help because what I create is so different from what other art quilters make. I finally started to call myself a conceptual artist, for lack of a better term. Sometimes I call myself a sculptor, but since I also make wall hung work, that doesn't always apply.

Recently, I've read about a new category of art that is called conceptual craft or conceptually-based craft. It is being made by artists who work in what are considered to be traditional craft mediums, but who create fine art with it instead. The concept is the important thing, not the functional or decorative qualities. So, is what I make fine art or or fine craft? As the prominent painter, Roger Shimomura, once said about my work, "There is a split second of non-recognition of what I'm looking at, which should be taken as a compliment given all the things I have looked at and evaluated in my life. You sit right on that dangerous border between art & craft and I respect that stance." So, I guess it's both and it's neither.

Miniature artwork

Here's a gratuitous picture of a new work that I've thrown in to make this post a little less boring. This whole piece is only 8" square and is destined for a traveling exhibit for SAQA's 20th anniversary. It is a non-juried exhibit and will travel for a while, then be given to the International Quilt Study Center for their collection. I don't need that particular line on my résumé because the IQSC already owns a quilt of mine, but I made this as a challenge to myself. I wanted to see if I could make a miniature artwork that was 2D and still reflected my style. When the organizers receive it, they will mat and frame it, so I didn't even need to finish the edges. I even have a second long, skinny quilt like the one I used here that I will make into an artwork for me to keep, although I will probably make the overall size 8" x 10" instead.

Art and meaning

After my recent solo show at Newman University ended, the gallery director told me that the students particularly enjoyed my exhibit because it was "political". I had never thought of my work that way, but there were some pieces in it that definitely had a political point of view, particularly Dispensed, Awarded and Segregated (shown here). These were the works that the students remembered, even though there were many more that were not political in nature. What made these pieces particularly memorable?

I have always been up front about the fact that I do not have any formal art education. A few months ago, I heard the word "narrative" being applied to art for the first time, even though that concept is probably taught in Art 101. It was quite an eye opener and I began to think about the narrative within my own art. Does it speak to people? Does it tell a story of some kind? Do I put sufficient meaning into my work to make the viewer think about what I am saying to them? If not, is my work forgettable, inconsequential or merely pretty?

When I was a junior at Hofstra University, I was required to take a course called Philosophy of Education. It was taught by Dr. Ignacio Gotz, who retired a few years ago with the reputation of being one of the greatest philosophers in the education field. For every class, we had to write an essay that addressed such seemingly simple questions as "What is education?" or "What is teaching?". Being the very literal-minded person that I am, I would often respond with the dictionary definition of the word. He never let me get away with that, of course. I recently realized that I was doing the same thing with much of the artwork in my Definitions series. Once again, I was presenting a very literal version of the word and not much more.

At the sculpture conference I attended last week, the keynote speaker was Jaume Plensa. I was very impressed with the depth of thought and heart he put into each artwork, whether it was immediately obvious to the viewer or not. This idea really resonated with me and I realized that I needed to do this, too. For me, this is what separates the truly great artists from those who merely make stuff. I have several pieces that are partially completed and need to be finished, but I believe that any new work I start after that will come from a lot deeper in my soul. The narrative will be there, to draw in the viewers and hopefully stay with them long after they have walked away from my exhibit.

The mark of a great teacher is that you are still learning from them years later. The mark of a great artist should be the same. Perhaps, to be a memorable artist, you really need to be a philosopher first.

International Sculpture Center Conference

On Saturday, I returned from the International Sculpture Center conference in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I have been a member of the ISC for several years, but this was the first sculpture conference I attended. It's part of my general move from the art quilt community into the greater art world.

The conference was held on the grounds of the Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park and they couldn't have chosen a better location. If you are ever in the area, I suggest you visit the gardens, which has sculpture from some of the best artists in the world. Many of the sculptures are very large scale.

I arrived on Wednesday and that evening, I went to a pre-conference party at the home of a longtime arts advocate in the area. The house was designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright and had a wonderful lake view. The place was so crowded that I was often stuck in a hallway when trying to move around. It wasn't really a problem because it actually gave me the opportunity to talk to some wonderful artists and get to know them as we were stuck there together.

On Thursday morning, there was a preconference panel discussion at the hotel where I was staying. The topic was creating a city dedicated to public art. One sculpture they talked about in particular was a large Alexander Calder sculpture located about two blocks away. At very moment, there was a crowd of about a quarter of a million people surrounding that sculpture listening to a speech by Barack Obama. When I left the hotel to go to the sculpture gardens for the start of the conference, I was caught in the traffic leaving the speech. It was a little strange to see security personnel on the sidewalk just a few feet away from me who were obviously wearing about 60 pounds worth of large weaponry.

The general topic for the conference was public art, which really didn't pertain to me. However, I still learned a lot. The keynote address was given by Jaume Plensa, who creates wonderful sculptures like the Crown Fountain at Millenium Park in Chicago. I was really inspired by the meaning he infuses into his work.

Optional events included the opportunity to participate in an Art Slam. Up to six artists could present their work within the space of an hour. A number of other people turned up to listen to the presentations, too. Here's a picture of me giving my talk. The editor of Sculpture magazine was in the audience and I was glad in many ways that I was showing work that was so different than the others.

The last night of the conference was the monthly gallery hop in Grand Rapids. Here I am with Pam RuBert at the Urban Institute for Contemporary Art. It is a great gallery and I plan to submit my portfolio in the near future, hoping to be considered for a show in one of their spaces. The most impressive exhibit was the Big Art Party, a once a year event held in an unused building in Grand Rapids. The Grand Rapids Art Museum had recently moved into a new building, so the party was held in their old location. All the marble and wood rooms (and there were a lot of them) were filled with some really impressive contemporary artwork. The music was pumping and the place was crowded. I wish we had an event like that in Wichita.

Overall, I would do it again in a heartbeat.

How I protect my artwork from damage

Right now, almost all my work is back in the house again, so I am going to spend a few days making storage cases for some of the more vulnerable and newer artworks. This practice started a few years ago, when I made a piece called Forest Floor. I realized it was going to get damaged and dusty, so I spent a lot of time making a custom storage case for it.
The light spot on top is where my cat barfed on it recently. Did I mention she was bulemic? I will probably make a vinyl outer cover to protect the case even better, but I guess I didn't do it fast enough. You can't see in these pictures, but there are a lot of handles sewn onto the case. It's so bulky that my short little arms have trouble carrying this piece without them. I also attached extra handles so I can hold onto the case in just the right places to make it easier to slide the artwork in and out. All the flaps close with Velcro.

The next two pictures show the custom storage case for Transformed. A pre-quilted and very colorful fabric is used for the outer case. I printed a picture of the piece plus my contact information on fabric and sewed it onto the flap for easy identification. Another piece I made around the same time, Triangulated, has a similar case.

Open the outer case and you will find the artwork's components.  The wood pieces are nestled safely and warmly in their own sweet and soft fleece fabric bags. Twill tape is sewed on the the flap area so the flaps can be tied down.

The round "roller" parts are simply placed in old pillowcases and rolled up. Someday, maybe I'll make something a little more customized, but I got lazy by this point in the construction.

My cat hasn't barfed on this case yet. I wonder what's holding her back?

Popping up in Oklahoma City

This weekend, I travelled to Oklahoma City for a workshop on pop-up structures with Carol Barton. She is a paper engineer from Maryland, a wonderful person and a very good teacher. Her instructions were clear and she paced the workshop just right, so you didn't feel rushed or bored at any time.

We worked with very colorful paper and after a while, the table looked like it had been hit by a flourescent blizzard of scraps. I always thought I was a creative person, but some of the people in the workshop made me feel very uncreative by comparison. I was sitting next to Elia Woods (who is also an art quilter and textile artist) and she was doing some amazing work. She even created a pop-up table that was covered with bright scraps of paper like our workshop tables and had recognizable pop-up versions of people around it who were in the class, like the teacher.

Here is an example of what I made. I tend not to pour all my creativity into workshop models, but instead absorb the techniques and ideas. All the time I was working, I was thinking about how I could apply the principles to my own work. A while ago, I created a piece based on pop-up ideas that is appropriately called Popped. It is currently travelling with an exhibit through the Kansas Art Quilters group. Unfortunately, I realized too late that you couldn't really tell it was a pop-up when it was installed. This workshop gave me some wonderful ideas about better ways to make that more obvious when the piece is opened and just sitting there. Ah well, you live and learn, which is why I took this workshop, obviously.

Re-resurfacing

In my last post, I said that I had reached a point of overload and was withdrawing from several art-related obligations. I evaluated what I could reasonably handle and let go of the part that wasn't allowing me to move on.

First, I resigned from a fiber art group I had just joined. I had only been a member for several days but hey, that's longer than some of Britney Spears' marriages.

Second, I resigned as regional co-representative for Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA). After six months or so on the job, I realized that I couldn't give it the time and care the position deserved. Unfortunately, it left my co-representative in the lurch, which is something I truly regret. She's struggling with her own time commitments.

Third, I've decided to enter far fewer juried art quilt shows in the future. My main goal at this point is to step further into the mainstream art world, where my work is a better fit. I want to spend my limited time locating solo exhibits and galleries. As hard as it is to discontinue some of my ties to the art quilt community, I feel it's time to leave a lot of it behind. In many ways, this is how I felt when I left traditional quilting. If I was enjoying success, why take the leap into the unknown? Because it's right for me to do so.

At the same time that I was doing this art-related housecleaning, my husband was finishing his remodeling of one of the bedrooms. Being no dummy, I immediately took the opportunity to move a lot of my finished work from the basement up to the bedroom closet. It seemed ridiculous that I have been taking my art out of the furnace room and shipping it off to museums. My work deserved better treatment than that.

Of course, moving stuff around the house is never that easy. You can't just move one thing, you have to move everything. I was finding a lot of detritus I knew existed, but had purposely hidden from view. What am I supposed to do with three boxes of player piano rolls and a box full of record albums? As it turned out, I kept the rolls, but got rid of the LPs. By the time I was done a week later, I had completed a serious reorganization of three major rooms and two large closets. I also moved a bunch of furniture around to accomodate the table for my new sewing machine.

With all of this happening at one time, I was able to step back and reevaluate what I was doing on many levels. While I was packing and labeling things for storage, I also took down a lot of the artwork from my studio walls. The majority of those pieces were framed collages that do not reflect my current style of art and do not make me proud. Since I had no emotional attachment to them, they are now gone. I'd rather look at blank spots on my walls until I have better things to fill them.

If you hadn't guessed, there is a general moving, shaking and purging going on in my career and my life, but this is a positive thing for me. As part of my move into the general art world, I've registered for a sculpture conference, to be held in Michigan next October. I'm looking forward to meeting a new crowd of people.

I promise my next blog post will be funnier and have more pictures. These serious and text-heavy posts are beginning to bore me. I need a major jolt of color to get my motor running again!

Resurfacing

I know it's been a while since I posted. I've done a lot of thinking about where I'm headed with my art. This started recently when a fiber art group invited me to join them. After about a week, I realized that I wasn't actually creating my artwork anymore. The group was the final straw that took up the last of my "arting" time. I made the decision that I would withdraw from most of the activities that were keeping me from the work I really should be doing, so I sent my "thank you, but I'm not staying" email to the group a few days ago. I also plan to withdraw from a couple of other commitments that are either taking too much of my time or making me feel guilty because I'm not doing them. They are all related to art quilting, which also goes along with my plan to move more into the general art world.

I must be rebelling against my responsibilities, because I've spent the past few days sewing the seams on my latest artwork. I've been sewing the color run together and I know what I'm going to do with it, but I'm not telling yet.

Last week, I bought a new sewing machine, which is something I thought I'd never do because I have such a good one already. However, after struggling to quilt several of my last projects, I realized my Bernina 1260 wasn't sufficient for all my needs. I intend to keep the Bernina for sewing seams and use the Janome 6600 for machine quilting. Of course, this means I need to rearrange my studio to accomodate another sewing table. If everything goes normally for me, there'll be a cascade effect throughout the entire house and nothing will remain untouched by the time I'm done. The Organizator strikes again.

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In loving memory of Preston Wesley Werner
May 8, 1990 - November 7, 2005
Happy 18th birthday, bud!

My favorite quotes

I keep several quotes posted on the wall above my closet doorway in my studio, so I see them whenever I look up from my worktable.

The first quote is from Grandma, in the Family Circus cartoon.
"If you're afraid of making a mistake, you won't make anything."
I like this quote because it reminds me that it is easy to freeze up, thinking that evrything I make has to be absolutely perfect. I often learn a lot from my mistakes and sometimes the lack of perfection is what makes the artwork extra special.

The second quote is from Jean Cocteau, the writer and filmmaker. "How do you become a successful artist? Amaze me!" When I read this, it reminds me that it's difficult to gain recognition as an artist and my artwork needs to have the "wow factor" in order to make my work stand out.

The third quote, which is my favorite, comes from Jerry Garcia, the guitarist from The Grateful Dead rock band. I changed the quote a bit because the original was written from the standpoint of a band with multiple members. Here's my version. "You do not want to be considered just the best of the best. You want to be considered the only one who does what you do." I do not make art quilts the same way that everyone else does and this reaffirms that I am on the right track.

What's your favorite art-related quote?

How to hold an Art Party

Every so often, I hold an Art Party for my family or friends. It's a lot of fun and is always successful, so I thought you might be interested in knowing how I do it. I'm a fiber artist, so many of these materials are already in my studio. If you prefer to work in other materials, I'll give you an alternative at the end.

The whole process takes about 3-4 hours from start to finish, so plan accordingly. Materials you need:
- An inexpensive painting canvas for each person. The type I use has the canvas glued onto a cardboard and is primed (gessoed) for use by either acrylic or oil. A good size is 11" x 14".
- Acrylic paints. You don't need to buy more than a few colors. If you can find an inexpensive set meant for students, that works well.
- Cheap paintbrushes, disposable cups for water, disposable plates (I use the styrofoam kind)
- Wonder-Under fusible web (regular strength). Buy several yards at the fabric store. This stuff is nothing more than a web of glue, sprayed onto a release paper.
- Small amounts of interesting novelty yarns. If the yarn is sparkly, has "eyelashes" or texture, all the better.
- Colored glitter is nice, if you have it.
- An iron, protected surface to iron on (like an ironing board) and parchment paper (available in the plastic wrap aisle at the grocery store).
- Inexpensice mats and frames.

1. Set up a painting table. Each person squirts some paint on the disposable plate. You can use several colors and paint them onto the canvas in a mottled pattern. You may want to water down the paint just a little, if it's too thick. Tell them to cover the canvas in any way they want, with any colors they want. I suggest that you do not leave large blobs of paint, because the canvases need to dry in a reasonable period of time. Don't obsess about this stage because the paint will mostly be covered with other stuff by the time you're done.
2. Cut the Wonder-Under (W-U) into large pieces. Water down some acrylic paint and paint the glue (textured) side that has the webbing on it. It's better if you paint in the lengthwise grain of the paper. Metallic paint works really well. The paper will crinkle as it dries, then you will be able to peel the Wonder-Under off the backing paper. You can do this step ahead of time and have it ready.
3. This is the bast part... go out to lunch or dinner together! While you are gone, the painted canvases and Wonder-Under will dry.
4. When you return, heat the iron and show everyone what to do. First, tear off pieces of the W-U webbing (without paper!) and lay them on the painted canvas. You don't want to cover the entire surface. Place a piece of parchment paper underneath and another one over everything to protect the ironing surface and the iron. Iron on top of the parchment (press down, don't wiggle it, no steam), which will melt the painted W-U onto the surface of the canvas. Let it cool, then gently peel the parchment away.
5. Decorate the surface any way you want with bits and pieces of yarns, ribbons and other materials. Use glitter very sparingly. Cover with parchment paper and iron everything down. The W-U is glue, so it will all stick.
6. Continue this process until you have the canvas the way you want it. You can layer on more W-U, if you want. Actually, the acrylic paint will soften with the heat of the iron and small items will stick to it, too.
7. I like to take a fan brush and accent over the top with a little metallic acrylic paint. Use sparingly!
8. Mat and frame each piece.

I am always amazed at how beautiful each artwork is when completed. I've never seen an ugly one yet! If you do not want to use yarns and W-U, then paint the canvas as described. Instead of W-U and fiber materials, use specialty papers, torn into pieces and paste them down using acrylic matte medium, which acts as a glue. No iron is needed. You can paint over the top of the papers, in order to create interesting layers.

Have fun!

Becoming a "Real Artist"

Years ago, I read a science fiction story by Bob Shaw, called "Light of Other Days", that introduced me to the concept of slow glass. The glass was supposedly engineered to slow the light passing through it, so what appeared on the other side of the glass was, in essence, a view of the past. The slow glass could be made in various "time thicknesses" (I made up that term, but it describes the effect). I often think of people as slow glass, especially children. You put something into them and it might not come back out again for many years. One reason that you can usually tell work of young art students is that the slow glass isn't very thick yet. The experiences haven't built up inside them sufficiently to provide the depth that you see in the work of more mature artists.

Much of the time now, I feel like very thick slow glass. All the thoughts, feelings and sights that have passed through me are now reappearing on the other side and you can see them in my work. I see the Art Deco and Victorian influences from my New York childhood. I see science and technology, a remnant from my former professions. I see the highest highs and the lowest lows of my life.

Being self-taught, there are times I feel like I'm swimming in a sea of artists who have their MFA degrees. They know how to do everything from charcoal drawings to massive bronze sculptures. They can critique an artwork while blindfolded, even with both hands tied behind their backs. They are fluent in Artspeak and know how to dress in an appropriately creative manner every day. I already have a Masters degree (in audiology) and have no desire to go back to school again for that length of time, so I have to ask myself whether an MFA would improve my art over and above what I'm already doing. No, it wouldn't, because I don't want to have my work graded by someone else. This is my journey and I'm the only one who can tell if it's right.

In 1999, I made a very conscious decision to leave traditional quilting and explore art quilting. That description worked for a few years, but then it dawned on me that it wasn't the quilting part that was important anymore, but the expression of ideas. The quilting became the vehicle for that expression because I already knew the techniques and it was a very versatile medium. It was about that time that I began to think of myself as an artist. Not as a quilter or as an art quilter, but as an artist. This is how I feel inside of me now. I look at the world differently than I did before.

I suppose I could be doing something else with my life that would be more profitable, but my art continues to emerge from me at the strangest times. That slow glass is finally revealing everything what's been inside, but it's coming out all mixed together. It doesn't really matter whether I have a fine arts degree or not, because this is what I've become. I think I'm finally a Real Artist.

Fellowship awards ceremony

You are getting two long posts today because yesterday, I traveled to Topeka to receive my Mid-Career Artists Fellowship (Fine Art) from the Kansas Arts Commission. They held a wonderful reception for the recipients and I want to tell you about some of the interesting people who I talked to. There were many others and I hope that I don't hurt their feelings by not including them, but I have to stop the list somewhere before everyone falls asleep, like in a college class right after lunch.

- One of my State Senators, Les Donovan, was there with his wife, Cissy, to hand me my award. I was honored that they took the time to be there for me, as I was the only fellowship winner from the Wichita area. I was so impressed by their graciousness and intelligence.

- Pauline Verbeek-Cowart, who received the Masters Fellowship in Fine Craft, is a tremendously talented weaver who teaches at the Kansas City Art Institute. Many people know her from the Surface Design Association. Talking to her came at a good time for me, because of a question I had regarding SDA and the fiber art exhibits associated with their biennial conference. She was the perfect person to ask and I had an opportunity to get to know her at the same time. That was almost worth the trip all by itself.

- Melissa Gregory, who works in the office of Governor Kathleen Sebelius. I have a quilt hanging on the wall in the governor's office right now and Melissa knew exactly which one it was. Coincidentally, she "long distance" commutes from Wichita and her Wichita house is one that my husband and I had looked at when we were buying a home almost 20 years ago. We distinctly remember that house and have even talked about it a few times since.

- Barbara Nelson, who co-owns the Strecker-Nelson Gallery in Manhattan (Kansas), probably the most respected contemporary art gallery in the state. Her husband and gallery co-owner, Jay, was on the selection panel for the awards. Barbara and I first met in 2001, when she was kind enough to host a meeting of Kansas Art Quilters. I was president of KAQ at the time. I'd love to get to know Barbara better, as I remember her gallery/home as being jaw-droppingly amazing, which says a lot about the insides of a person.

- John Divine, a commissioner on the KAC board. He chaired the selection panel for the visual arts awards this year, which is the first time I'd seen him in about 25 years. We used to work for the same branch office for IBM, but he was based in a city 90 minutes drive from me and I only saw him occasionally during that time. In fact, I was surprised he remembered me at all, but I guess Jill Rumoshosky isn't a name you hear every day.

- Roger Shimomura, who received the Masters Fellowship in Fine Art, is a world renowned painter. In 2000, when I received a Mini-Fellowship from the KAC, I attended the selection meeting and one of the panel members made a comment that changed the course of my art tremendously. It took me years to figure out what that comment meant, but I eventually did. When I told Roger about this, he did not recall whether he had served on that panel because he's served on so many over the years, but thought the comment was something he would be likely to say. Whether he has any memory of that moment in time, I do remember it and that's what counts. You never know the impact that your life has on other people, do you?

Taking a break from creativity

I haven't posted any entries for the past two weeks or so and, during that time, I also put away the in-progress projects in my studio. I just didn't feel much like being creative for a while. However, I wasn't exactly sitting around, as I've been looking at art, reading about art and doing a lot of hand dyeing, but I haven't been creating or writing anything. Last night, I had a great idea for a new project and the ol' juices began flowing again. Looking back, I think I needed a mental vacation from being creative. CPAs get vacations, why don't we?

Several nice things have happened since I last posted. First, I received official notification that I was awarded a 2008 Mid-Career Artist Fellowship from the Kansas Arts Commission. Of course, I splashed the news all over my website right away, but if I missed mentioning it on a page or two, please let me know and I'll correct the problem. On March 10th, there will be a reception for all the fellowship recipients at the state capital in Topeka where I will receive my check. With the price of gas these days, that might not even cover my travel expenses!

Second, I've been asked to jury a Studio Art Quilt Associates regional exhibition. I'll post more about it when everything is finalized.

Third, I followed a link to an unknown blog and was delighted to find that it was written by Susan Lenz. In the past, she's left some very insightful and completely accurate comments on my blog telling me how wonderful my work is and feeding my ego to an unhealthy degree. On the blog I discovered, Susan explained that she is curating an invitational exhibit to be held at a Columbia, South Carolina gallery next January. When I scrolled down, I was surprised to learn I was on her wish list for artists for this exhibit. You can read more about the general exhibition here. Of course, I accepted her invitation and I'm honored that she thought of me.

How I make my quilts 3D

A couple of years ago, I received an email from a Canadian quilt guild. The workshop chair had found my website and asked if I would teach a multi-day workshop for them on how to make 3D quilts. Although I love to teach, I had to tell them no because the kind of work I do is not dependent on a particular technique or material. It can't be taught.

In my artwork, the concept is the most important thing, so the pieces can look quite different, even within the same series. Because each piece is unique, I have to invent different solutions to create the effects I want. I start with the concept and then spend a lot of time designing how I will physically execute the idea. There's at least one quilted form in each artwork, but otherwise I don't limit myself in regards to materials and techniques. In addition to artistic considerations, I also have to think about ease of shipping (size, weight, shape) and ease of installation, because they are major influences on the final design, too.

What I put inside the quilt has the most influence on the finished shape. Batting is the soft stuff you put inside of quilts to make them cuddly, but I tend to use many different materials inside the quilts, depending on the needs of the design.

When I want a soft quilt, I use Warm and White cotton batting and have even used this in my freestanding sculptures, such as Discombobulated and Melted. Sometimes, I'll even use another layer of fabric in lieu of any form of batting, if I want to cut down on bulk and weight.

Here are some of the materials I've used to make stiffer quilts.

- Extruded required a quilt that would project out from the wall horizontally for a distance before dipping to the floor. To accomplish this, I used buckram, which is a very stiff fabric that is typically used inside of baseball caps. The design required the quilt to be the stiffest at the top, so I started with four layers of buckram at that point, sandwiched between two layers of cotton batting and, of course, the two outside layers of fabric. As the quilt got further from the "extruder", it needed to droop down and touch the floor, so I removed a layer of buckram every few inches. I was left with one buckram layer by the time it reached the ground.

- I wanted to see if I could make a freestanding sculpture similar to Melted, but easier to install on site, so I made Tangled. Instead of batting, I used a very stiff, thick version of interfacing, called Peltex. This turned out to be less satisfactory than the cotton batting, so I won't use it in this fashion again.

- Plastic needlepoint canvas was used inside the "heads" in Emotional Entanglement. Yes, I hand quilted through all three layers.

- In one of my older Art Deco pieces, Simple Yet Elegant, I created a long, skinny quilt using several layers of heavy duty aluminum foil as the "batting". Silver mesh fabric was used for the outside layers. Once it was quilted and bound, the silver quilt was attached to another, much larger quilt.

If you've been following along as I made two artworks, Dispensed and Laced, I just received the photos from my photographer and I will post them here in the next few days. They are great! Be sure to check back soon.

Fun with statistics (and blogs)

When I started this blog in June, I also signed up for Feedburner, a service that collects traffic statistics for my blog's visitors. I really love to see who is stopping in to read my stories. So far, I have had visitors from all over the world, including Malta, Uganda, India, Mexico, Hong Kong, Egypt, the Scandinavian countries, most of Europe (including the U.K.) and lots of people from Canada. My blog is most often translated to Dutch/Flemish and German, but has also been read in Japanese. Hmmm, I wonder what "discombobulated" translates to in Korean?

One of the most amusing sections of the traffic stats is where they show me the exact search string someone has used to find my blog. Sometimes, I understand how my site popped up, like when someone searches on "pomegranate jamming", "skinny quilts" or "Clyde Beatty-Cole Brothers Circus". What I don't understand is how others found me, by searching on "how to fold a pocket handerchief" or some guy's name I've never heard of before. Yesterday, someone found my site by searching on "tablecloth French San Diego". I wonder how Google knew I was part French.

I frequently get a lot of one-time visitors because they searched on "reasons for being an artist" or "top ten reasons to be an artist". If you google that search string, my post comes up on top. Fancy that!

Thanks so much to those of you who leave comments on my blog. I love reading them and enjoy them more than you know. I may not answer every single one, either on the blog or in private, but I always read each comment many times over.

Keeping a blog has been a wonderful way for me to document my work process, although lately I feel I've been doing that to the exclusion of my other caregories. Perhaps I should add in a few more organizational tips, old stories or humor pieces, but ideas don't always jump off the top of the shelf and onto my my head when I want them to. If you have any special requests, let me know and I'll suddenly find inspiration. What do you like the most about my blog? Reading about banjo houses and artstrology or do you prefer when I discuss my latest work in process?

As I mentally close out the old year, please know how much I appreciate every one of you. Thank you for stopping by. Please come back and visit again.

Strange studio things

I use a lot of different materials in my artwork. The problem with this is that I collect a lot of odd items which I'm just sure I'm going to use someday.

Walnut shells - Several years ago, I saved the shells from some walnuts we were eating. Notice that I even wrapped red rubber bands around them to keep matching halves together. I have yet to figure out a use for these, but I have faith that someday I will.

Foam pool noodles - These are my favorite things to play with (except for fabric). I like to have a handy supply available and use them frequently in my artwork. Mostly, I use pool noodles inside of my sculptural pieces because they are easy to carve, lightweight (which helps with shipping costs) and inert, so they will not chemically break down after a period of time. Some of the finished works where I've used these noodles are Knitted, Forest Floor (the mushrooms), Tethered and Transformed. I also used to keep foam pipe wrap, of the type used to insulate water pipes, but my husband came down to my studio one day and asked if I had any. I replied, "What size and what color?". That's when I knew I had gone off the deep end.

Plastic mesh - I have such a large box of plastic mesh that I didn't even photograph them. They come from vegetable and fruit bags, but the biggest are from gigantic 50 lb. bags of peanuts that we buy for feeding the birds. I used some of these in an older work of mine called Premature Robot.

Cardboard corner protectors from picture frames - OK, I threw these out recently, but I kept dozens and dozens of them for a very loooooong time. They would have made awesome plates on the back of a stegosaurus (if I had some inclination to make one). There were so many that, if I had done this, my studio would have resembled an overcrowded Jurassic Park.

Metal springs - Why? Then again, why not?

Giant snail shells - They were originally purchased at a gourmet food store and intended for escargot. I sold the extras a year ago at an artists garage sale, but they lived in my studio for several years, mocking me. I still have the can of snails around here somewhere because no one wants them, despite the $18 cost. Believe it or not, I really did use them in my artwork Forest Floor. As I was using a Dremel tool to drill holes in the edges of the shells so I could sew them down, my son came into the room and asked what I was doing. I told him I was quilting. To his credit, he just shook his head and left the room without making any comments about his crazy mother.

Tape reels from old computers - My husband brought one home from work because they were being thrown out. I convinced him to go back and dig another one out of the garbage because I can really see a very long, skinny quilt rolled up on them some day. I'd say that this was a throwback to my days at IBM, but the computers I supported didn't use tapes.

Corks - I've been saving these for years and someday I'll figure out why. By now, you should be getting the feeling that some of my artwork would probably float on water. And it would.

Chinese restaurant calendars - These cool 2006 calendars were giveaways from our favorite takeout place. They are made of plastic and roll up like sushi rollers. They would make an interesting texture when I was stamping something, but not for use in the main body of a quilt. The takeout place might get orders from some unusual locations if I did.

A very sketchy sketchbook

My sketchbook is mostly filled with columns of interesting words that inspire an image in my mind, generally written during late night drug and alcohol binges. (OK, I'm kidding about that last part, but it makes for a more colorful story in case someone ever writes a biography of my life.) Sometimes I also do rough sketches to record my mental images and end up making artwork based on these. I thought you'd like to see a couple of these sketches and the finished product.

Now you can see why I don't draw for a living. Don't ask me to be an accountant, either. Instead of a starving artist, I'd be a starving accountant, which doesn't sound nearly as exotic or interesting.

Extruded

Prepackaged

How to improve juried shows

Here are some ways that organizers can improve exhibitions. Of course, these suggestions are from the viewpoint of an artist, but happy artists make for good exhibitions.

- Don't place the entire expense of the exhibit on the backs of the artists. Entry fees these days average around $30-35, yet there are no guarantees that an artist's work will be accepted. This is a very expensive lottery system and if someone enters a number of shows each year, entry fees alone can add up to many hundreds of dollars, with possibly nothing to show for it. Please keep entry fees down to a fair number and find additional ways to fund the exhibit, such as grants or preview parties, where viewers pay to see the work first.

- Artists are expected to adhere to a show's entry deadlines, but many shows don't bother to send out notifications by the date they specified. Be kind to the artists who enter and send the notifications by the date listed on the prospectus, if not sooner.

- Please don't make the artists wait months and months between the deadline and notification. New work has a short shelf life. I no longer enter certain shows because the wait time is so long that it's not worth it. I even know of one instance where the juror took a trip to Europe in the meantime and decided to stay there an extra long time. The notifications went out about three weeks later than they should have, even though the artists had already waited about 2-1/2 months.

- Don't have the same juror all the time. The shows start to look all alike and even non-artists begin to notice.

- Send out rejection and acceptance letters at the same time. The artists who did not make it into the show may want to enter the same pieces somewhere else. Time limits mean that there is a small window to enter artwork before it gets too old to exhibit.

- At opening receptions, find some way to identify and honor the artists at the opening reception, such as name tags. This makes the artists feel special and is a wonderful ice breaker for attendees who want to talk to them. I have been to openings where artists travel halfway across the country, yet nobody knows that they are there.

- Take installation photos of the exhibit and post them on your website. It is very frustrating as an artist to get into a major show, yet have no idea what the show actually looked like. The artwork is shipped off and shipped back, with no paperwork, reviews or even a thank you. Between the entry fee and the shipping charges, it's likely that the artist has spent $100 or more to exhibit in the show, so anything you can do is a kindness.

- Encourage sales. Artists like to sell their work every now and then to cover their expenses.

Kansas Art Quilters

I drove over 5 hours round trip on Saturday to attend the annual Kansas Art Quilters (KAQ) meeting. Nineteen people showed up, which is not bad attendance for a group in our situation. For those of you who do not know, Kansas is right in the middle of the United States and covers a very large area, about four times the size of Slovakia. Driving from city to city can involve many hours of driving time, so not all members are able to attend. Despite its name, the group is actually a national one, with 65 members from 14 states. At one time, we even had a member from Norway.

A large part of our national success has been due to the efforts of Linda Frost, the outgoing chair of the Exhibitions Committee, who did an amazing job of finding us excellent exhibit venues for a number of years. Here's a picture from one of our recent opening receptions at the Sabatini Gallery in Topeka.

At the end of 2000, I attended a Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA) conference in Santa Fe, New Mexico. SAQA is the international organization for artists who work with quilts as their medium. During a break, I found myself talking to three other Kansans, including Charlotte Herr, Phil D. Jones and Linda Frost. At one point, I made a comment that I'd always thought the quilt artists in Kansas should get together and have an exhibit. Light bulbs went off over our heads and we decided to form a group. The next day, we met at lunchtime and made plans.

Each of us knew another art quilter or two, so we started passing the word along that we were going to have our first meeting in January, 2001. Phil said we'd probably end up with 10-12 people sitting around a living room. I collected names and contacted people who might be interested, based on tips given to me. To our great surprise, we had 40 people turn up at the first meeting.

KAQ has grown and changed a lot over the years. I was the first president and now I'm the communications coordinator, maintaining the website. What hasn't changed is the talent in the group. Linda and I are the two founding members still left, but many, many other people have also stepped up to make KAQ work. Thanks to everyone who has done so, including the outgoing board members.

Tracking show entries

This is how I track exhibition information.

I learn about upcoming juried exhibitions by reading magazines, email lists and websites. Almost all entry forms (prospectuses) can be found online these days, so they are easy to print out.

The printed entry forms are filed in a large binder, each one in a page protector and sequenced by deadline date. I write the deadline date on a strip of index card, then slip the card into the front of the page protector so I can see it. If the deadline is a postmark date, I write a little "p" next to the date.

At the same time I file the entry forms, I create an index card for each show which lists the show name and location, the deadline and the notification date. I also write any important rules on Post-it notes, using my own shorthand language. For example, "2 years" means that the entries cannot be more than two years old. I always record the dates that the artwork would be away if accepted into the show. I typically add 10 days or so onto each end to allow for shipping.

The index cards and the notes are pinned to a cork board in my studio. I divided the board into sections with blue painters tape, so I can change the sections easily without damaging the cork.

On my board, the first two lines are used for upcoming exhibits I may want to enter. The third line shows the shows I have already entered and and am awaiting notification. The bottom row has the exhibits to which I'm accepted or otherwise committed.

The name of each artwork is written on an index card strip. The creation year is also on the front of the card and the dimensions are written on the back. I can easitly sort these cards when deciding what to enter into a show, throwing out works that are too old, the wrong size or are already entered into conflicting shows. The pile that is left helps me choose which pieces to enter.

When I am accepted into a show, I replace the show's card with a new one, listing the shipping date, the date of the opening reception and the actual show dates.

I love this method because it is so hands-on and the cork board is always visible, so I don't forget anything. Changing the cards pinned to the cork board really keeps me aware of deadlines.

Balancing the equation in the art world

For the past several years, our city has been involved in a large project where people at the grass roots level discuss ways to make the city even better, then work to implement those ideas. Several days ago, they held their first meeting aimed specifically at the arts community, with the goal of making Wichita an arts destination. Some of the brainstorming ideas from the attendees included setting up a more formal arts district, making a building available for studio space and providing networking opportunities for artists. Unfortunately, everyone missed the main point. We already have plenty of talented artists living and working here, but what we really need is more people who buy art.

Once a month, the galleries stay open on Friday evening and thousands of people have the opportunity to view some wonderful work. However, you rarely see red dots on the gallery signs, indicating that an artwork has been sold. If the price is over $75, you can practically guarantee that no one will buy it. Even if there are high end collectors in town, they travel to other cities to look for their purchases, while the general public treats opening receptions at local galleries as free parties, not places where they spend money. They look at the art, eat the food, drink the wine and then move on to the next gallery.

Until the public is educated about the value of buying original art, this situation will not change. Artists will continue to spend a lot of time and money to get their work seen, but receive nothing in return. How long do you think a CPA, clothing store, manufacturer or restaurant would stay in business if they were expected to operate under these conditions? Artists would like to be paid for their work too. It would even be nicer if we could make a living from selling our art, but I don't know of any artists who do. We are holding up our end of the art world, now it's time to cultivate the other side, the art buyers. Without them, our city will never have a thriving arts community.

When good artists go bad

As much as I'd like to think all my work is amazing, I've had some truly awful "going down in flames and it's time to jump" failures. At least I recognized these disasters before I sent them out into the world for others to see. Here are some gems that have never seen the light of day before. It's my very own House of Horrors and I'm showing them to you now to prevent future blackmail scenarios.

This beauty was originally going to be called something like Encased. There is a vinyl sack attached to a green fabric base. The base has a hole through it so something can be inserted into the sack, then a second green base covers the hole. The "something" was a long, skinny quilt that was crammed inside.

What do you think this looks like?
A. An uncooked meatloaf
B. A hairball from a pink-furred cat
C. Medical waste
D. A slimy slug
E. All of the above
F. I don't know, but I wish you hadn't posted this picture

Another stunner is this small quilt, which is about 8" x 10". I was never able to figure out what to do with it. It's just there. About the best thing I can say is that it's colorful and would make a good potholder, if it matched my kitchen better.

When I create a framed work, I usually paint on a stretched canvas, then use fiber art techniques to finish the design. Here is another work that was going nowhere fast and if you don't like this one, I can show you several more that are just as bad.

I typically hold onto these bits of unfinished projects, terrible or not,  because I've been known to recycle them into newer work. In fact, the pink skinny quilt was originally part of Tethered, until I realized the quilt was twice as long as it should be and chopped it off. After an unsuccessful trial run in the meatloaf, that chunk of quilt finally ended up in Knitted, proving that a spectacular failure can sometimes turn into something quite spectacular.

Anyone want to buy an empty vinyl sack sitting on a green platter?

Gallery directors can wear white hats, too

I just got my rejection letter from Fiber Focus, a biennial exhibit which is held at the Art St. Louis gallery in Missouri. The only time I've gotten into this show was in 2001, with The Light at the End of the Tunnel. It was one of my very first gallery exhibits when I was making the switch from quilter to artist. I went to St. Louis for the reception and was amazed at the quality of art exhibited and the attention given to the reception at this regional show. Since then, I have entered some of my best work in this exhibit, but for whatever reasons, I haven't been accepted again. Oh well.

I mention this because every time I get my rejection letter from this show, the gallery manager, Robin Hirsch, writes a personal note to me at the bottom. This time, I was so touched that I wrote to her and she sent back the nicest email, even saying that she'd kept up with my work during the intervening time.

As an artist, I can't tell you how much it means to have someone remember me and my work. It only took a moment for her to write that note, but the encouragement will keep me going for years. A little kindness goes a long way in a profession where you need to develop a thick skin because of the amount of rejection you get.

I usually don't get notes from gallery directors and curators, but I've had just enough things like this happen that I've continued making my art, even during some very difficult times. None of these people had to show these little kindnesses, but with these small gestures, they earned my respect and loyalty and I will continue to enter their shows, even if I don't get in.

Artists often view gallery directors as adversaries, but there are some wonderful people who work in this profession and truly care about the people involved. If you know someone like that, be sure to tell them how much you appreciate them.

Why nobody buys art

Recently, a former high school classmate looked at my website and wrote to me (twice) telling me she was going to buy one of my artworks. The reunion is now three weeks past and I still haven't heard from her. Then again, I didn't expect to because this happens to artists all the time. People look at our work, tell us they are interested in buying something, then never do. Frankly, I don't blame them.

Back in the Middle Ages, a painting or sculpture was a rare and wondrous thing. Few people had the opportunity to see artwork, except in their churches. There were no photographs, television or internet. No billboards or magazines. No YouTube on your cell phone. Today, by comparison, we are bombarded by images all the time and if we don't like one, we can just change the channel and find another one. It doesn't cost anything extra to see something different. In fact, we don't pay for specific images, but for the delivery systems themselves, so the perception develops that individual images don't have any real value. For the same amount you might pay for a painting, you can buy a plasma TV.

One evening each month, our local art galleries are open in the evening, an event that is becoming popular in many other cities across the country. Hundreds or even thousands of people visit the galleries, drinking the wine, eating the food and looking at the art. However, if you check the signs next to the artworks, you will see very few red dots, indicating that a work has been sold. Many times, you won't find any. The artist has put in years of hard work, paid for more stuff than you could possibly imagine, spent a lot of time and energy hanging and promoting the exhibit, but the people walk through the gallery as if this is a big party for them and everything is completely free. They can always move on to the next gallery and see more art, so why pay lots of money to keep something? It doesn't make sense for anyone to do so.

Sadly, there doesn't seem to be an easy solution to this problem. Artists go on making artwork and the rest of the world wants to see it for nothing. So why do we continue putting so much energy and money into making things? The creative urge is strong, but I really wish the art market was, too.

Buy a piece of artwork today!

Building my posse

I customized the look of my blog yesterday and it made me think about the things artists do to become successful these days. When I started, I never thought I'd need to know web design, digital imaging, search engine optimization and mass marketing techniques to become successful, but unlike most artists, I have a heavy marketing, computer and writing background. Here's my 1982 picture, from when I was a systems engineer in an IBM marketing office. Even with all that experience, there are things I can't do by myself and for those, I look for outside help.

First, I found a great photographer. I stopped taking my own pictures, which were embarrassingly bad, and turned to someone skilled at photographing fiber art. Gordon Bernstein made my work look like Art, with a capital A. At one point, I tried a local person, with a mediocre result, which made me realize that it's worth the shipping costs back and forth from Boston to get the best. Few people will see my work in person compared to the number who will see the images. A great photographer is worth his or her weight in gold to a visual artist, particularly those of use who present unique challenges because of the type of work produced.

Second, I got the help of professional graphic designers. For years, I printed my own business cards, but they looked amateurish. During an internet search, I found Jacques Designs ("jakes"), a married couple who worked as graphic designers by day and freelanced together in their off hours. One specialized in print materials and the other in web-based images. We worked on my logo first and although I created the final design myself, it was a journey that we had to go on together to produce the right result. Around that time, I redesigned the look of my website, so they were able to use the colors and overall style to help them design the marketing materials and make them look coordinated. By the time we got to the final items, they understood me so well that the first drafts were almost perfect.

Third, I discovered a really good printing  company,  Overnight Prints (no affiliation). The prices were so good that the Jacques' initially thought something had to be wrong, but after seeing the high quality of product I received and the good service, they are now using that company for their own printing needs.

Fourth, I made a lot of friends. I'm fortunate to have people both inside and outside of the art community who support, encourage and inspire me, carrying me through rough times.  Many of you fall into that category, like my husband Steve and my friend Jeri Riggs, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  If I'm really going to be a successful artist, you will always be the most important part of my posse.

What to do when you lose your artistic wind

Alyson Stanfield, the best artist's coach around, linked to one of my funnier blog entries today. Afterwards, I received an email from an artist who was obviously stressed.

While reading my blog, this artist realized she didn't find any humor in her own artwork and it just wasn't fun anymore. I think that has happened to every artist during their career. Something is "wrong" with the work, so it stops being satisfying and enjoyable. She was ready to give up on art and look for employment.

I've gone through the same crisis twice and it has always been a sign that my artistic voice was changing. Dissatisfaction with current work could mean that you are at a crossroads, not at a dead end. No one ever said your medium and style had to stay the same throughout an art career. If your life has changed, then your outlook and tastes have probably changed, too. Listen to your gut. It might just be telling you it's time to move on.

How do you find your new direction? You can't force this kind of change. However, you can do things that will invite new discoveries.

- First of all, don't stress about it or you'll freeze in place. Go make art with a three year old. That'll loosen you up. Besides, I've heard that finger paint is the next hot artistic medium.
- Invite your friends over for an art party. Be sure to make bad art. Lots of bad art.
- Take workshops in different artistic mediums.
- Get your normal art materials around you and "scribble" with them.
- Experiment a lot with new materials and techniques. One day, you'll look at something you made and say, "Cool! I wonder what I can do with that?". Your creative juices will start flowing again and a new series will pop out of you.
- If you have friends who are artists but work in other mediums, ask if you can spend a little time watching them work. You'll either be inspired by what they do or you'll appreciate your medium a whole lot more.
- Stay in the same medium, but try different subjects and styles. There's no law saying you have to do portraits the rest of your life. Maybe you should be doing abstract work instead.
- Teach children or do volunteer work. Bring your art to people and they will think you're an artistic genius, because they will truly appreciate that you've taken the time to share your art with them.

Final Friday gallery walk in Wichita

Last night, I was privileged to attend the opening receptions for two art quilt exhibits here in Wichita, Kansas. The first exhibit, at Architectural Artifacts, was by Sharon Bass, a talented artist who I know through Kansas Art Quilters. She does beautiful work using silk, sheers and other fabrics.

The second artist was Charlotte Janzen, with her exhibit at Artists at Old Town. She creates wonderful quilts and is finally blossoming onto the local and national art scene. I have appreciated Charlotte's work for years and couldn't be more happy for her success.

Color smacked

As an artist, my secret wish is to discover a brand new color that has never been seen before, but without some help from the Twilight Zone or a superhero mutation, I'm pretty much limited to the same colors that everyone else uses. I try not to let that discourage me, so my current mission is to use every color as often as possible. That's why you'll often see so many colors represented in each of my artworks. If you haven't noticed yet (and how could you not), I particularly like working with bright, saturated colors that are the visual equivalent of Habanero sauce, because they practically sear your eyeballs.

I have three design walls in my studio and here's how they look right now. Pretty bright, huh? Click on the pictures to see larger versions. The items that are pinned on the walls range from finished pieces that are ready for framing to bits and pieces left over from various projects. In the bottom picture, the smaller pieces were created when I was recently speaking at a guild presentation and demonstrating unusual techniques using fusible materials.

The blue/yellow/green quilt top (top picture) was sewn several years ago. It always reminds me of the western Kansas prairie, so if I ever finish it, I plan to call it Greeley County, Kansas. Every so often, I drag this out and intend to add something more to it, but it doesn't seem to want anything else. I haven't made a "normal" quilted wallhanging in a long time, but sometimes you need to listen to the artwork when it's telling you something.

A tale of two conferences

This Memorial weekend, I attended the Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA) conference, held in conjunction with the Quilt National opening at the Dairy Barn Arts Center in Athens, Ohio.

Here are three very talented artists, Ruth Powers, Del Thomas and Rosemary Claus-Gray at the Saturday luncheon. Del is also a collector and owns Discombobulated, my earliest sculptural work. It was the best sale I ever made, as she has also become a friend. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to see her at the Quilt Visions opening last November, but she was not able to visit me when she drove through Kansas on the way to Ohio. The highway was closed going through the town of Greensburg, KS after it was devastated by a recent tornado.

This is my third time attending a SAQA conference and this one was particularly valuable, as it offered a number of marketing-related workshops. The day after I returned home, I went to the bookstore and bought books on search engine optimization, blogging and web design. In fact, I began this blog because one of the presenters finally convinced that I needed to create a journal of my art.

The best part of the conference was seeing old friends and meeting new ones. Here I am (in green) with Susan Ferraro. We are at the pizza party, held behind the Dairy Barn. Carolyn Lee Vehslage and Lisa Chipetine are in the background.

Just in case one conference was not enough, I spent four days at home then went to Kansas City for a couple of days, visiting the fiber art exhibits associated with the Surface Design Association conference. The best exhibits were at the Belger gallery and the H&R Block Artspace, which held the SDA members' show. Not surprisingly, I saw a number of people whom I'd seen just a few days before in Ohio.

Thanks to all the volunteers who made each conference so successful.