Photos from "Imaginarium" Reception at CAC

Just got back from the opening for the show in Wallingford, featuring all of the artwork from The Nautilus and the Ammonite. Here are some photos. If you want to see the show in person, it's up through July 20. Duke Gallery at the Community Arts Center, 414 Plush Mill Road, Wallingford, PA 19086.

"Peace Puzzle Woodcut" more info click here

"Desert Rooster" by Maria Arango Diener

I was sent this print as a gift from one of the participants in Baren Exchange #71. It was one of several gifts in the form of original prints and one hand-made book - certainly encouragement to be volunteer coordinator again some time in the future! This wood engraving of a "desert rooster" (another term for a roadrunner) was a originally created for another Baren Exchange; specifically one to celebrate the Chinese New Year, Year of the Rooster. Maria wrote about it and other prints she has made for that annual exchange on her blog here.

I truly love this small print. It is totally emblematic of the artist's style, influenced by the vast, warm (in both temperature and color) landscape of the American Southwest. Whether working in black and white or color reduction, Maria's prints are layered and create the sort of depth one can get lost in. With this particular print, I have a companion in the foreground with which to enjoy the view. This will be framed and placed on the wall in my living room in Philadelphia (set in a state quite different in character from the Southwest), where I can periodically gaze at it and contemplate the grand and varied qualities of this nation's land, foilage, and inhabitants.

Highlights from [Baren] Exchange #65: Landscapes (Part 1 of 3)

These are two landscapes from the [Baren] Forum's print exchange #65. The theme and style were open and the paper size was 10" x 15". There were 18 participants and while the entire collection is amazing, I decided to highlight 5 prints: these two landscapes, one portrait, and two that effectively employ the use of the grain.

The first print is Red Hill by Lindsay Schwartz. The desert is dry but pleasant. Quiet and subdued with its flat plane of blue sky and carefully painted swathes of creamy green and yellow over muddy rust. The image is a contemplative window to a place to wander and ponder in peace.

Although they are both reddish landscapes whose compositions draw the viewer in toward a focal point in the upper-half corner, Red Hill is quite a contrast to just you and me by Maria Arango Diener.



In this second landscape, a tiny woman wades out into an otherworldly sea. The fiery embrace of the sun's reflection wriggles toward her like tentacles. Thick tresses of the woman's hair trail behind her, melting into the shoreline that is bathed in slanted rays. Here, nothing is still, nothing is quiet. More than merely the sounds of sloshing water, the light that ripples out from the sun buzzes, and the rolling hills rumble. The sun is like a great head, more godly than gaseous, more soul than star.

Peace Puzzle, Collaborative Woodcut (My Small Contribution)

This is my contribution to the Peace Puzzle, a monumental collaborative woodcut with 160 participating artists, conceived and lead by artist Maria Arango Diener. Here is the website/blog, and if you'd like to watch the Indiegogo informative video, click here.

I received my block for this project a while ago, and changed my mind about a dozen times on what to draw on it. The first things that came to mind were symbols of peace, but that was too obvious. Then I thought about figures from history famous for working toward peace, but that felt too specific for a big, collaborative project. Then I started thinking about images from nature, such as maybe a tortoise, elephant, or owl, that are associated with patience and wisdom. But nothing I came up with really resonated with my personally.

Finally, I realized that I'd completely over-thought the whole thing and felt stuck.So I emptied my head and asked myself when in my own life do I feel most at peace. And the answer was when I'm reading to my girls before bedtime.

Now as I was drawing and carving, I didn't exactly consider how this block will be oriented when it is put back into the larger piece. I simply came up with an image that fit the way it fit. So as you can see from the second photo of both the block and the proof, the girls will be upsidedown in the final piece. But I'm okay with that because the overall design for the big print is very fluid and it seems as if things are being gently blown all around the composition. And after all, Marc Chagall never had a problem with people's heads being upsidedown!

"Ripe For Picking" by Maria Arango Diener

Image posted with the permission of the artist. Learn more about Maria Arango's work and check out her very reasonably priced work on her blog 1000 Woodcuts.

It invites with its plumpness, its electrifying color. Touch me, bite in. I am orange and red, like mangoes and strawberries. You can imagine the sweet flavor, practically feel the juice dripping down your chin. Even needles, which usually would repel, have softened, at least in appearance. They read more like spools of soft yarn than prickles. And even if it hurts a bit to reach in, isn't the taste that awaits worth a little pain? Especially when the window for perfect ripeness is so short-lived?

"Bajo la Sombra" (Under the Shade) by Maria Arango Diener

Image reposted with permission of the artist. Learn more about Maria Arango Diener's work and check out her very reasonably priced work on her blog 1000 Woodcuts.

The tree bows, the human bows, but who do they bow for? The tree reminds me of bonsai trees at the Bunjae Artpia on Jeju Island in South Korea. I used to think of bonsai trees as tiny little things, but the ones on Jeju Island were mostly human-sized or larger. Being an animated being, it is logical to assume that the person in the print bends for the tree. But art is not logical, so I must also consider that the tree bends to compliment the human's pose. Perhaps they bend for each other, a reciprocal relationship, yin and yang. There's something wonderfully strange about their equal weight. The person seems to be both sheltered by the tree, and somehow also in the foreground in front of the tree. A subtle conflict between the objective truth of the natural world and our subjective, human perspective. We are not the center of the universe, but more often than not it sure feels like we are.