creative energy, realized
I recently watched the film “Between the Folds” by Vanessa Gould, a mesmerizing film on the art of paper folding. It goes far beyond the art of traditional origami and delves into the very scientific and mathematics-based study of folding itself. It’s amazing and a must-see for anyone with a scientific and artistic mind (or for a quick inspiration fix). I found it in Netflix’s ‘Watch Instantly’ and more information can be found at http://www.greenfusefilms.com/.
Inspired projects to follow 🙂
In April of 2011 I flew to Rome to meet up with my mom after her Reggio Emilia conference. After cruising Rome for a couple days by myself, we met up in La Spezia and traveled on to the Cinque Terre and Siena. A wonderful trip, and life-changing in many ways. While there, I ended a relationship I had been in for the last year and a half (a story unto itself) and was able to achieve that true sense of self that one can only find while travelling. Walking through Rome for two days, completely solo, was an incredibly empowering experience. It had been a few years since I had had the opportunity to visit Europe, but each time before was with a larger group (studying abroad in Berlin, visiting friends in Denmark with my dad, the traditional post-high school European backpack adventure). Striking out on my own was scary at first, but map in hand I soon found that Rome is a beautifully accessible city and I became determined to explore every corner on foot.
In Travastere, a quaint neighborhood south of Vatican City, I was roaming the alleyways and small streets west of the river when I came upon some graffiti that caught my eye. I’ve always been interested in street art, and while I wasn’t entirely sure how to translate the words, they held some deep meaning for me. When I got home to Seattle and downloaded my pictures, I translated them: Indifference and Complicity. Wow.
Needless to say, that got me thinking. As part of a generation that is so desensitized from the media, indifference and complicity is a huge deal. We are all guilty of it daily on a large or small scale. Not to imply the legal definition of being witness or accessory to a crime, but in the sense that we all turn a blind eye in our lives at one point or another. This concept really strikes home for me. Are we becoming so desensitized as a culture that indifference and complicity are tools we use daily to shield ourselves from real life? I could go on and on… but think about the last time you saw something happen on the street (whether it be an actual crime, verbal abuse, catcalling, harassment) and did nothing about it.
Anyway, after a couple weeks of musing/ realizations/ severe extrapolations/ general character re-evaluation, I completed the third image in the mixed media collage series (after ‘We All Want to Fly‘ and ‘Iceberg Flow‘). A friend had recently built me a bike, and as I was learning to ride in an urban environment it became apparent that there are huge danger risks to sharing the road. (duh- exactly my point that I didn’t understand until I tried it myself!) It is hard to see after the layers of paper and paint, but the original photograph of graffiti is part of the ground on which the bicyclist lies.
Hope this provides some imagery for thought. I welcome any comments or stories you’d like to share on the topic.
Title: L’Indifferenza e Complicita Inspiration: Graffiti in Travastere, Rome Medium: Mixed media collage Dimensions: 8×10″ Price: $200After finishing ‘We All Want to Fly‘, I wanted to expand n the style of collage that had come about so spontaneously. I like the idea of movement in a collage, which i found rather difficult to capture. The image below is the second in the series, perhaps slightly less successful than the first, nevertheless a fun project. Again, the picture does less justice than the original; I used the same collage technique layered with sharpie 🙂 and blue and gold paint.
“The Hermit and the Kettle” is one of many stories my father created during my childhood. I have vivid memories of him sitting on the edge of my bed recounting the tale, pretending to forget certain parts so that my four-year-old self could interject and partake of the storytelling.
As a child, “The Hermit and the Kettle” was just one of a multitude of stories my father told for my enjoyment. Now, looking back, I realize how applicable it was to his situation. The hermit, who gives up his job in the city and moves back into the forest, parallels what I believe my father secretly wished to do ever since he did just the opposite after I was born.
My dad was determined to set the stories he made up for me down on paper before we had both forgotten them. He wrote out what he remembered, and I supplemented with my childhood memories and mental images of how I remembered the story. For an art class in college, we were given the opportunity to do a project of our choice, and I decided it was time to make my dad’s book into a reality.
When illustrating this story, I kept various factors in mind. As a child, the story was never written down for me to read on my own. I relied on my imagination to supply the images, and since the plot changed slightly with every telling, so too did the pictures in my mind. Recreating a finite version was no easy task for that reason. I was not interested in depicting the story merely for children; instead, I wanted to draw upon the harsh line quality of nature sketches and animal reference books. I tried to present the images as suggestions to let the imagination build upon rather than finite images of the plot. I wanted to illustrate only a few moments in the storyline, but most importantly it was the details that I wanted to include, not the focal points. It was important that the images be supplements to the story itself, not the other way around. Therefore, while each drawing refers to something specific in the text, few of the images tell a story on their own. I think the final images have a certain rugged quality to them; even the initial illustration of the hermit alone in his city apartment feels more like the interior of a cabin than it does metropolitan housing.
The story also applies to both a child’s morals of sharing and friendship as well as the adult sentiments of cultural boredom, insatiability and the need to return to nature. There is a sense of fantasy that appears in the kettle which is never empty; something I was always amazed by as a child. In this rendition, I believe I have conveyed a slightly more adult approach to the themes mentioned, which seems appropriate given my intimate history with the story.
To purchase this book, email me or go to http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/804247.
In Seattle we have a free monthly publication called CityArts, a magazine created by and for local creative communities. In March of 2010, the front cover held an image of Rocky Votolato from the band Carissa’s Weird throwing a paper airplane. I was mesmerized by the image, and how the photographer had managed to capture both eye contact and motion in the composition. The act of throwing the airplane felt like both a catharsis and the release of a dream or idea into existence, and locking eyes with the subject makes such an experience speak directly to the viewer. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ‘make it my own’, so to speak. Building on the idea of the ‘release of a dream’, I created the collage below. 
Unfortunately, I don’t think this picture of the original does it justice–I used gold and blue paint to accent the light and shadows of the collage, and on the original you can see the gold reflect light, giving it a glow I didn’t capture in the photograph.
For more information about the CityArts article on Rocky Votolato click here.
Title: We All Want to Fly Inspiration: CityArts Magazine, March 2010 cover article Medium: Mixed media collage Dimensions: 8×10″ original, prints available up to 20×30″ Price: $350 original, prints $45 – $175
While visiting my sister, Ali, in June of 2009, I captured this image of her and a young filly in a pasture by her house. She has an amazing gift for communicating with animals; since she was young she has always had a strong sense of compassion for and desire to work with horses. Spending time on our aunt’s ranch and watching our mom do endurance rides as kids instilled a love of horses in each of us, yet Ali has turned her passion for animals into a career. Currently, she cares for the yearlings at Branscomb Farm in Half Moon Bay, CA, which is where this picture was taken.
On returning home to Seattle, I downloaded my trip’s photos and went through them as I normally do to crop, edit, rotate, etc. I reflected on Ali’s life, surrounded by the animals she loves, and realized that all of the care, compassion and gentleness I associate with her and her work could be seen in this light touch she gives the filly as it stands next to its mother. Inspired by the adage “a picture is worth a thousand words,” I wanted to create something that would convey this simplest of interactions between her and the animal. 
In late 2010, the Seattle Art Museum hosted a collection of Picasso’s work from the Musée National Picasso, Paris. It was a beautiful mixed collection of more than 150 paintings, sketches, sculptures, photographs and prints created throughout Picasso’s life. Walking through the exhibit left me breathless as I took in the creative massiveness of this artist’s life; I was inspired most by his overwhelming success in such a wide breadth of mediums.
On returning home, I immediately went to the studio and rummaged around until I found some oil pastels, a medium I rarely ever use. Seeing his control with them was an immediate and direct challenge. This is what surfaced:
Information on the SAM’s exhibit can be found here: http://www.seattleartmuseum.org/exhibit/exhibitDetail.asp?eventID=18788
Title: Reclining Nude Inspiration: Picasso Exhibit at the SAM Medium: Oil pastel on paper Dimensions: approx. 5×13″ original, prints available larger Price: $200 originalI find that inspiration is like a lightening bolt. Perhaps a cliché comparison, but if y
ou’ve felt that moment of “Eureka!” where you can visualize in an instant the entire creative process, well, you know what I mean.
It can strike out of nowhere.
It disappears as quickly as it came. You might not see it again for months.
While it can cause mass destruction (literally: forest fires; figuratively: a whole day spent consumed by creative ineptitude when the project goes awry), it can also be the catalyst for wholly unexpected works of beauty. (See Fulgurites on Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fulgurite)
A perfect example of multi-medium inspiration! After mixing some cut beets in a bowl with olive juice, I noticed the striking color of the leftover juice in the bowl. Reaching for my camera, i captured several images that I liked. Further, the red juice fell in such a w
ay that it reminded me of the Japanese Enso, or circle. I was familiar with the Zen concept, and spent the rest of the day playing first with the images in my editing software, then with a sumi brush and ink.
“is characterized by an irresistible urge in the creative artist.”
The CER Project 
