Mushroom

A new addition to my natural patterns alphabet:

“Mushroom,” 5 x 5 inches, pen and ink, prints available in my shop

I do love mushrooms (the dinner kind, not the hallucinogenic kind)—they are scrumptious—in a risotto, on top of something grilled, or just by themselves (I’ve been known to love a good portobella sandwich!), but they’re also pretty odd and interesting to look at. Every once in a while, out on a hike or walk, I’ll see one and it will seem like a freak of nature.

I’ve wanted to learn about foraging for mushrooms, but I’m afraid it may be a little too life or death for me—one bad mushroom, and . . . but I would jump on the chance to go with an expert!

On a side note, for those of you who love hand drawn type, check out this post over at The Daily Etsian. Hannah so kindly mentioned me in her write-up, leading me to her beautiful blog! Thanks Hannah!

Another Scorcher

It’s hot here . . . really hot! It’s been up above 100 degrees for three days now! How do we deal with these dog days of Summer? The same way we deal with everything else—we eat! Seriously, one of the main consolations I have for putting up with the hot Summer in Davis is the produce. Tomatoes, squash, plums, peaches, peppers—you name it, we got it here!

I just picked the first red tomato from my garden today, along with zucchini and cucumbers, which I’ve been picking for a while now:

After a long, hot bike ride home, you know I couldn’t pass up a snack with my first picked tomato, especially since tomatoes are one of my favorite foods on this earth:

And to herald the coming of the stone fruits, I made a pluot crisp last night. A pluot is a cross between a plum and an apricot, and this one was a beautiful substitute in a recipe that called for plums. This fruit was just too lovely to pass up—it tastes as amazing as it looks!

Of course, we got too excited to eat it, and I forgot to take a picture when it came out of the oven, but here is what was left of it after we dug in:

It may not look like much, but it was oh so fine over some vanilla ice cream. I’m not a huge fruit pie fan, but this one is now topping my list in taste! I won’t type the whole recipe here, but feel free to leave a comment, and I can send it to you—otherwise just look for a plum crisp recipe. It was really simple, just plums (or pluots) with sugar (brown and white) and lemon, and the topping was walnuts (I used some almonds too), sugar (brown and white), flour, and butter.

Summer may not be my favorite season (I’m more of a cool weather type), but it has several redeeming qualities, as enumerated above.

Weekly Inspiration Digest: action

This happens every time I start something completely new: there is the exciting honeymoon period when I fantasize about how wonderful it will turn out, followed by the reality that I actually have to do the work, followed by images of all the things that could go wrong or why I can’t do it, which most often ends up in a moment where I try to rationalize not doing this new thing at all. Writer’s block fits neatly into this pattern—it’s called psyching yourself out. It’s called perfectionism. It’s called a fear of failure. It’s called inertia.

When this happens, I often start talking to myself. I start trying to understand why I don’t want to do the work—I might journal about it, whine about it, and commiserate with myself. In general, I throw a pity party, even though I know that none of this helps. The truth is, there’s only one solution: action.

It’s not pretty, and all of those nay-sayers inside and outside of you will argue, but action is the only medicine. Something happens when you throw the junk thoughts aside and actually make a move on things: your brain stops running like a chainsaw, chittering and chattering about how much you suck, and you actually start to produce.

It doesn’t always happen right away, but trust me, it happens. Usually, when I’m in a funk, the last thing I want to do is get to work, but I’ve come to discover that the only way to get out of the bad mood is to get to work.

Now I’m not saying that I sit down to my desk, and suddenly angels start singing. Often, it’s like walking through mud. The self-deprecating voices keep talking away, but after a while, you learn to ignore them, and eventually they shut up.

People often want to believe that being creative is some stroke of genius, when in reality, it boils down to one thing: taking the time to create. That’s it. Maybe some people enjoy that process more than others, which makes them more prone to practicing it, but people don’t usually think about it that way. They think, “he’s creative, I’m not.”

I’m not saying this doesn’t take courage—it takes a lot of courage to act—it’s much easier to sit by and watch movies in the dark while eating several candy bars (I have a particular weakness for romantic comedies and milk chocolate), but in the end, we will all be happier people if we actually do something.

This works for all things—I’m not just talking about making art or writing. Beginning anything you want to do starts with one action, one step. It does not mean doing everything today—it means doing one thing today and every day, no matter how small. Once you get the ball rolling, it will be hard to stop. So hop to it, and get to work!

Loose Lips

This expression has always cracked me up:

“Loose Lips,” 4 x 6 inches, pen and ink, available in my shop

It’s just so threatening, yet indirect and poetic! Can’t you imagine being in some dark smoky bar in the 1940s wearing a trench coat, when a man in another trench coat comes by and whispers this in your ear, in a quiet yet threatening manner? Nowadays we would just say “shut your mouth.” I think the original phrase was “loose ships might sink ships,” but that silly little middle word kind of messes with the rhyme.

This is the third drawing in my series of body related idiomatic expressions. Click the link above to see all three in a flickr set.

In other news: I will be selling at Music Fest tomorrow, Saturday June 27 from 3-9 pm in Cesar Chavez Plaza, Sacramento. Should be fun, although hot hot hot—it’s supposed to get up to 104 degrees, and I’m trying to will it not to get that hot by complaining to everyone I know.

Interview on Alchemist Art

A while back, Denise from Alchemist Art asked if she could do an interview with me about my art and process. Of course, I said yes, and she has now posted a great interview over at her blog. She had great questions—questions I had not been asked before and really made me think about what I do. Thanks Denise!

An Abstract Return

Just messing around today to get back in the groove—it’s hard to be serious (not that any of my art is really serious) after getting back from a vacation.

“Neighborhood,” 5 x 5 inches, pen and ink, available in my shop

As has probably become apparent to you regular readers, I like schedules and planning. So while I love vacations (who doesn’t?), changing my schedule really throws me for a loop sometimes. I guess maybe I’m kind of a strange artist—the stereotype of an artist as a free-flowing, fly by the seat of your pants type just doesn’t fit me.

I find the most freedom in schedules—allotting a specific planned time for something gives me the freedom to focus on that thing and let my imagination run around it, without worrying that I should be doing something else. Boring? Maybe. But knowing what I’m doing ahead of time makes me happy and calm. Being happy and calm makes art.

East Coast Whirlwind

I got back from my east coast trip late last night, and now I’m getting back into action. The main purpose of my trip was to introduce my fiance Mike to much of my extended family, and pay visits that are long overdue. My family is great from all angles—here are some highlights (sorry, not very many pictures—I was being a slacker):

I visited the Italian side of my family (my dad’s side) in Greenwich, Connecticut, where we got to see aunts, uncles, cousins, my grandma, visit Arthur Avenue in the Bronx to buy great Italian groceries, eat amazing home-cooked food courtesy of my Aunt Angie (think homemade pasta, meatballs, salami, roasted chicken, Piave cheese), and in general have good old Italian American fun.

We headed up to Deerfield, Massachusetts to visit my mom’s Polish-American family—again we had uncles, one aunt, grandparents, cousins, and second cousins, plus we got to see all of the new things the newer generation is planting on my grandparents’ 100 acre farm (arugula, radishes, lettuce, greens, potatoes, squash, and more). We also got to see a Peace Pagoda and tour the Deerfield Academy campus with my cousin.

My grandparents’ farm in Deerfield, MA with new fruit trees in the foreground

I also fit in a quick trip to The American Folk Art Museum just after my flight into New York City. I saw an amazing quilt exhibit with kaleidoscope quilts by Paula Nadelstern. These were beyond quilts—the colors and shapes shifting off the wall. It is a must see for anyone with a love of textiles.

I also really appreciated the woodcarvings by Ulysses Davis. The details are amazing and fun, and there was a set of head carvings of 40 U.S. presidents all lined up. This piece really tickled my series-loving brain—all of the heads were lined up in rows.

We also managed to sneak in a visit to Mike’s cousin, wife, and kids in Westport, CT—it was great to see them all.

Now it’s back to the drawing board, although there’s so much going on this week, that I may not make it back until my art day Thursday!

All my bags are packed

I’m heading out on a brief trip over to Connecticut and Massachusetts to see some of my extended family. It’s going to be a jam-packed whirlwind trip, but I’m looking forward to surprising my grandma, taking in a museum in NYC and seeing loads of cousins, aunts, and the like.

Hopefully I’ll come back with some pictures. See you mid next week!

Just so you know, any orders placed over in my Etsy shop between June 18 and 22 will be shipped on Wednesday, June 24.

Dandelion

Walking home with my specimen for this drawing this afternoon, the wind nearly took it away, but enough was intact to marvel at the millions of itty bitty pieces that make up this letter “d” of my natural patterns alphabet.

“Dandelion,” 5 x 5 inches, pen and ink

I think I had known this before, but I re-learned that the name dandelion comes from the French “dent de lion” or “lion’s tooth” based on the shape of the leaf. I did not include the leaf here mainly for compositional reasons, but it is interesting that the plant’s name is inspired by the leaf, yet most people would recognize it by the flower, or the ghost of the flower, as I drew here.

Ahh, many a child (and, who am I kidding—many an adult) can find no bigger thrill than to blow at one of these and see the seeds flutter on the wind. A lawn maintenance person’s nightmare I know, but still amazingly satisfying.

Weekly Inspiration Digest: morning rituals

Morning can be a sacred time. It’s a time of new beginnings every day—a time to decide how you want to live. As we come out of sleep, there’s an opportunity, a choice—either rush into high-gear life, or steal some time quietly in between.

While life in the fast lane pushes and pulls, and occasionally wins, this time has become sacred to me. I wake up and do my daily things—feed the dog, stretch, pack a lunch, tame my crazy hair, but after making breakfast the magic begins: I return to bed.

People talk about breakfast in bed as a periodic luxury, but I have decided to make it an everyday luxury—it hurts no one, costs no money, and is the main consolation to me—after forcing myself out of bed, I get to return.

I cuddle myself up with pillows, a bagel, and a book and read my way through breakfast. This never gets old—every morning when I settle back under the sheets, I feel calm and happy, and like I’m on vacation.

Once I’m finished eating, I turn to my journal where I write three pages, a practice I started while reading The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron three years ago. These three pages started out as a should, now they’re one of the main parts to starting a good day, or any day for that matter. More often than not, if I start out writing in a frustrated mood, I come out feeling hopeful. It is me talking to myself, counseling myself, inventing new paths of thought, and reinforcing my joy.

Once I’ve done my writing, I yawn, try to delay the inevitable, and eventually force myself into the day, as the clock ticks and it begins to seem unavoidable that I’ll be late to work again. But those 30 or 40 minutes are like a little respite, or a bridge from dreams to reality, during which I often think about trying to make dreams into reality, or reality into dreams. They’re one of the best parts of my day—the part where I am calm, slow, and thoughtful. Every morning they make me realize that anything is possible.

I think everyone has a morning ritual of some sort—whether it’s as simple as the order in which you brush your teeth, take a shower, and eat breakfast, there’s something comforting about the repetition. The word ritual connotes, in addition to meaning a regular order of things, some sort of spiritual element, like a rite of passage or a religious ceremony. However you choose to spend the in between time of morning can become a little ritual where you care for yourself.

It’s different for everyone—whatever makes you feel rich and loved, calm and kind, is a good place to start. It’s about choosing yourself and making the time to honor your heart. It’s about starting the day by being the person you want to be, instead of running around the house frantically searching for shoes. It’s about allowing some time and place to be yourself, and think about what that really means.

Whether it’s studying your backyard through the window while drinking a cup of coffee, or just allowing enough time to stretch and shower slowly, it’s so important to give yourself that feeling of abundance regularly. It’s a way of valuing yourself and your life.

Not only does this act honor you, it honors everyone you interact with. If you give yourself this time to think, relax, and prepare for each day, other people will be able to experience the best version of you, and you will be able to give your best self.