"A was an artist" by Sir William Nicholson

This is from Sir William Nicholson's book An Alphabet, first published in 1898.

A print-maker and mentor I knew once said, "After we finish making it, it's dead to us." I've often pondered that melancholy statement. Indeed, once the process of making, the relationship with the piece is over, the artist might still feel a deep attachment, but the lover is gone.

That said, these works of art are often said to take on a new life of their own, a new relationship with the world, when introduced to an audience. So maybe the completion of a work of art is less like the death of a relative or loss of a lover, and more like watching a child become an adult and move on.

Any way I look at it, it is a loss.

"Shepherd Boy"

4-layer reduction woodcut
5.5" x 8" (image)

I was really excited about this print while I was making it, but alas, it's one of those that left me completely disappointed in the end. The light blue is too light in many places, and the orange and green are too washed out to stand along; there really needed to be one more layer of medium value before the final layer of dark blue. Why have I been so timid with my color execution these past couple years? And how can I get over these troublesome apprehensions?

The original drawing had been truly lovely, but since I drew this one directly on the block, that drawing is now destroyed. I think this should have been a white line woodcut.As this is a reduction, I can't go back into this (except to paint over the individual prints, which I might do.)

I did stay up until 2:30am two nights in a row working on this, and that was exhilarating. Nice to really savor the process, even if in this case the product was a letdown. And hell, so long as I'm paying attention, I can learn from my mistakes.

"Harbor View Medical Center" by Charles Spitzack

Image posted with the permission of the artist. More of Charles Spitzack's work can be viewed on his website.

This place of healing is ominous and fragile. A tall, dark structure dominates the landscape, and yet seems to be pulled this way and that by the wind.  And a great sun like a dragon's eye bulldozers into the scene. I can hear a violent chopping sound as the eye sucks a passing helicopter up into its orbit, while cutting into the side of the building. The eye is fixed on this great structure that apprehensively leans away. A short, blue wall curves around the perimeter like the dragon's bottom jaw, while the tops of evergreen trees point up like teeth, and a mud path slithers like a slurping tongue.

We think of buildings as strong, but everything man-made is vulnerable to greater forces of nature, and all of it will fall away.

We think of our bodies as strong, but every person born is vulnerable to injury or illness, and all will die.

I am reminded once again of Alice and the Red Queen's Race. Entropy is our fate.

Ludwig Heinrich Jungnickel's Parrots

A blue so vibrant

I want to smell it, taste it, 

Listen to it caw! 

"Spring Rain No. 2" by Andrea Starkey

Image posted with the permission of the artist. More of Andrea Starkey's work can be found at her website, blog, and Etsy store.

Whispering, yellow trees form a tight line across the landscape. Heat from their hearth escapes, rises, and mingles with wafts of chilled air and a smattering of rain. A meeting of warm and cool in the firmament. The rival pair dissipate into colorful blotches and streaks. In the promenade of faded coral and stormy-sky blue, I can almost see a rainbow.

"The Blue Jug" by Blanche Lazzell

The rain has caused me to stay inside, but it is spring, and so flowers still dominate my thoughts. Turning their heads downward and dying here in this vase, the yellow pedals are none-the-less vibrant. Indoors just doesn't flow like outside. Indoors is darker and full of sharp-edged objects. So easy to bang myself black and blue. But these sunshiny flowers give some relief.  

"Little Boat, Big Ocean" by Ele Willoughby

Image posted with permission of the artist. More of Ele Willoughby's work can be viewed and purchased at minouette.

This image reminds me a lot of the print I did last year: The Flood. They both feature giant, underwater, sea-creatures, churning up waters and threatening something small and man-made just above the surface. Also, even though the colors in mine are vivid primaries and this print uses pastels, the two prints are similarly bright and cheery in color, which is in contrast to the perilous subject matters. The main difference I see between the two images is that while the boat in this seems paper-like in its fragility, and ready to go under in its topsy-turvy placement off to the side, the house in my print is holding strong, upright and in the center.

The narrative in this print is more like that in Hokusai's iconic woodcut The Great Wave of Kanagawa, where the supreme power of nature, specifically the sea, over mankind is dramatically emphasized. However much the octopus is a dominant feature, its present seems more indicative of the danger, mystery, and power of the sea. Notice the title mentions not the creature, but the ocean.