Loka's story & wall

Up on the wall is Loka--a painting wherein the character migrated from an old story I wrote and reappeared in a slightly different, but still alien environment, know as The Piano Lands. This painting didn't waltz out of the brain pan. It insisted on dancing its own recalcitrant beat, forcing me to learn and relearn its meandering grace. Meanwhile a friend gave me some old frames and I collaged up various drawings inside them. I like looking at things together, letting their lines twine and bump.

Dreamy, Real, & Story

The lazy pencil, the dream wash of watercolor and some luck, then, 2nd layer--a conscientious pencil and some gentle thought to image:



One day on my drawing table objects got really interesting and then I started tearing things out of my little sketch books and gluing them in...and then: doodles & descriptions!




From a story I once wrote...the landscape always stayed with me as did the main character while the rest of the story peeled away, frayed by time.
Landscape: The Piano Lands
Character: Loka

details and visitors

Drawing/watercolor with the shadows from the wire catspider above it:



Collage/watercolor/ink of a bottle that was my mother's and the ripped up pages from on old physics book of my Dad's:




Ink/watercolor image from a story I wrote years ago:




This weekend I did a two day open studio with other people in Tribeca. People wandered in, wandered out, stayed for 15 seconds, hung around for conversation. Some obviously want nothing to do with you and others pronounce you the best of the tour. One woman told me a story about her painter Dad who supported 5 children with his art out in Pennsylvania. He had his own gallery in a separate building and then built a Japanese house to add to the mix. The kids would go to sleep whenever and wherever. We talked about the ability to paint and to draw (not synonymous) and about children's books.
..and then you get some people who bring with them an aura of actual weirdness, their words always at an oblique angle to your own, their laughter rushing in to make puddles in between.
Now I can start on the new painting with its foliage, Hindu dancer-gods, illuminated edges and chaos at the end of the Kali Yuga.