Three Unexpected Visitors

For about two years now I've had a vision of painting ten Ballona Wetlands tiles to surround a mirror. I've had many starts and stops. One stop was when I used the mirror frame to make my "Mosaic of Memories" a year ago.

So I bought another frame and it has sat propped up against the back of the sofa for the past year. I see it every day, and every day I say, I MUST work on that! I don't know how many times I've started the layout in Photoshop. Several months ago I decided I had actually figured out the design and I could get started with the painting. Four months later... nothing.

Monday I jumped out of bed knowing I couldn't let it go any longer. I finished up the composition in Photoshop and printed out the ten templates, one for each 6" x 6" tile. Today I dragged the tiles out of the garage and laid them out on the table. It was so gorgeous outside I decided to eat my lunch up on the roof deck. I saw a fleck of white out of the corner of my eye. When I looked up I thought I was hallucinating.

Three huge white birds were standing on top of the tallest tree in the neighborhood. I ran for my binoculars and realized I was looking at three fully grown Great (White) Egrets! Wowee! I grabbed my camera and was able to get a few photos but not much detail, as you can see. I picked this photo so you can see the rooftops and judge how high the tree is.

It was too much of a coincidence that this was the day I was finally drawing the outlines of the Great Egrets and Great Blue Herons on the tiles. I took it as a sign from Alice, Artist, Goddess of Nature, that this was how I was supposed to be spending my time this week, despite all the other pressing (and depressing) things I should be doing.

These birds can stand over three feet high with wing spans of four and a half feet. They are distinguished from the smaller Snowy Egrets by their yellow bills.

As I was watching, one of the birds flew gracefully over to a lower tree. They stood preening themselves with the breeze ruffling their feathers for at least half an hour. I was reluctant to leave but I had to come indoors to continue drawing the egrets on the tiles.

This was a once in a lifetime experience that I won't forget.

(photo copyright roslyn m wilkins)

Two Different WorldsNot really fitting in anywhere, has, paradoxically, allowed me to fit in everywhere. As a child and teenager I moved around from place to place so much that I had no sense of real belonging. As an adult I have had so many jobs and careers that when people ask me "what do you do?" (meaning what does it say on your business card...) I am always scrambling for an answer. Usually it's whatever I am currently getting a paycheck for. But as that is not happening at this moment in time, I'm having difficulty coming up with something. Maybe "Observer of Human Endeavour" would be a good title, as most of the things I am interested in (good or bad) have to do with what humans have produced. This pretty much covers art history, architecture, archaeology... and attending art gallery openings!

Last night was a satisfying example of the latter.

BG and I first attended the opening reception of "ZEROheroz! An exhibition by 8 women" at the Helms Building Washington Corridor. For me, the exhibit exuded fun and lightheartedness... maybe that was just the mood I was in. From the press release: the artists utilized "found objects and imagery to explore, expand and reinvent the elusive nature of creation and identity."

The gallery, as the name suggests, is a corridor between two streets, albeit a very wide one, with entrances to several businesses. Turning it into an exhibition hall is a wonderful use of an otherwise useless space. Although the show was well attended, there was plenty of room to move around and view the artwork.

We were at the exhibit by invitation of Cynthia Rogers, one of the "8 women" and a member of our Culver City Art Group. Her 3D collages are intriguing and you can make up your own stories about each piece.

Our second stop of the night was at Chris Anthony's "Venice" opening at the Corey Helford Gallery's special exhibition space on Comey Avenue. I am on the CHG mailing list and I have to admit, not every exhibit calls me to run on over and see it! But the moment I saw the invitation to this one, I knew I could not miss it.

This Venice is the Los Angeles, California version, not Venezia. I have a strong affinity with this erratic seaside town. Quite a few years ago I lived in an apartment right on the boardwalk. Probably one of the best times of my life in many ways, and one of the worst in others. But an indelible part of my life nevertheless.

This show evoked some of those long-ago memories. One of my favorite things was to jog on the beach at the edge of the water in the early morning fog. It was an eerie experience. Some days vision was down to a few inches. I could hear the surf getting ready to swallow me up, but I couldn't see it. Voices with no bodies wafted around me. The squelch of my footsteps in the sand was so loud I imagined myself running on a soggy drum. I thought about how easy it would be to be murdered right there and nobody would witness it... but the thought was almost beautiful, not scary at all...

You probably will not take this same experience with you when looking at the photos! But the images are so powerful they cannot be viewed without some emotional reaction. The relationship of the sky, the water and (in most cases) the lone human, creates a moment of perfect balance and harmony, while in that same moment there is the unease that the tide could suddenly suck that person down and wash them away. (When I originally saw the images online I assumed the human element was Photoshopped in, but not so, the subjects actually get wet.)

As I looked around at the people in attendance at the gallery it struck me how different this crowd was from the one we had just left. The first was kinda funky. This was hip and sophisticated. BG and I joked that we were special in that we could blend in with both worlds (or, who are we kidding, maybe we stick out like sore thumbs in both arenas!). But I would speculate that few people other than the two of us would have the interest to attend both venues that evening.

My suggestion: see 'em both!

(photo copyright roslyn m wilkins)

Curled up on the Sofa with a Good CSS Book

I've been reluctant to post anything new to any of my websites because they were all designed before my encounters with CSS. In 2006/2007 I started to play around with Cascading Style Sheets, but I really didn't understand what they were all about. There was a brief moment when I thought I grasped the concept, but like they say, the more you know, the more you know you don't know. So then I became overwhelmed by the whole idea, decided I was too stupid to figure it out, and gave up.

Having to create an online portfolio in order to look for a job forced me into getting serious. I knew I had to work through my fears and banish tables and inline markup from my life forever!

I was an Adobe GoLive user from the first day that software came out. When Adobe abandoned it in favor of Dreamweaver I was devastated. I kept hoping they would announce "April Fool!" and my beloved GL would be back... but no such luck. So, I plonked down my money, installed DW and converted all my sites. The conversion went well. But when I opened up a page for the first time, I realized I was in a different universe. My dependence on a program writing all the code for me was over.

I HATED coding, I told myself. But as I couldn't get DW to work like GL I found the only way I could get anything to happen was by wading into the code and getting my hands dirty in the muck and mire of HTML.

A strange thing happened. I felt like a non-believer at a revival meeting, I was drawn to the front of the church to be redeemed. I saw the light... and it was coding!!!! Could CSS be far behind?

I enrolled in the Beginning CSS/XHTML online class through Santa Monica College. I loved it. I took the Intermediate class and loved it even more. I was off and running. I converted all my websites from table layouts to CSS. But I was still using tables to contain galleries of images. I searched the internet and found forums discussing this issue. I also discovered that for as many people using CSS there are as many different variations on a theme. Everybody has his or her own bag of tricks. I took the ideas and managed to get some of them to work, but not in all situations.

So I scoured Amazon and read the reviews on about ten CSS manuals. "Stylin' with CSS" by Charles Wyke-Smith seemed to have the most positive reviews so I went with it. I have to admit, the first quarter of the book was hard going for me. I was questioning my sanity in pursuing a venture I was so obviously unsuited for. Why wasn't I spending my time painting a tile, reading an art book... or sending out resumes???? But like a venus fly trap to an unsuspecting winged insect, the book kept calling me back... Bali Hiiiiii... oh, sorry.

I am now halfway through the book and at some point last week there was a flood of light in my brain. I can't say there was anything in particular that hit me. It was the accumulation of a lot of little light bulbs turning on... a thousand points of light... and in a moment, I could see how this all could work. It all seemed SO simple. How could I not have seen it before?

Now, I am not suggesting for a nano-second that I thoroughly understand all the wondrous and strange behaviors of CSS, but at least now with a 2% understanding of the basics, I do see a path ahead. I know that by plodding along little by little, accepting failures as learning experiences instead of stumbling blocks, recognizing that nothing happens overnight, I can get to the point where I feel comfortable with this.

I look at websites all the time now, viewing the HTML to borrow ideas and to learn from better coders and designers than myself. Since I have become a CSSer, I find myself scoffing at sites that are still laid out with tables. And some of these are corporate websites with famous brand names.

But on the other hand, I smile smugly when I see tables alive and well in the hearts and minds of some web designers... because I know their little secrets. Like a beautifully-crafted chest-of-drawers with inlaid pearl on the outside, I have looked inside the drawers and seen the disarray of their mis-matched socks and other unmentionables!

So, as today is a Winnie the Pooh blustery day with a dark sky and a smattering of rain drops, it seems like the perfect situation to curl up on the sofa with a blanket and a cat and a good CSS book...

A Muddy Green Mess

I haven't attempted any artwork in months. My kiln has been living out of sight under the dining room table since mid-December, but I quit working on anything long before that. I have wedged myself between the proverbial rock and a hard place. When I'm at home, if I do anything other than work on my resumes, I feel guilty. But by not doing anything creative... other than the "creativity" of my resumes {:>)... I feel like I have locked myself up in a prison with an indefinite sentence.
Last weekend I was invited to an art salon. These artists meet on a regular basis at each others' studios to critique their work. They opened up the group on this occasion in order to involve guests. I felt very honored to be part of this.
I took my "Mosaic of Memories" and talked about how I got started in tile painting.
As we went around the group, each artist talking about his or her piece, I was impressed with the diversity of the work and once again reminded of the ingenuity of the human spirit.
That humans are capable of taking mundane elements such as scraps of paper, fabric remnants, little blobs of paint, or formless blocks of stone or metal, and turning them into something worth looking at is truly mind boggling.
I came away from that meeting inspired to let my creative juices out of the bottle.
It didn't matter what, I had to do something... So the next day I got everything set up: dragged the kiln out from under the table, took out my glazes (couldn't even remember where I had hidden them!), found some old tiles already glazed, and painted over them. I knew that doing this would create a muddy mess, but I didn't want to ruin perfectly good pristine bisque tiles and I wasn't ready for my next project. Besides, I realized the point of this exercise was actually the process, not the outcome.
As I brushed the glazes on the tiles I was in the moment. There was no struggle. No question. No hesitation. I was four years old again, drawing on the wall of the shared bathroom in the boarding house where I lived with my parents. (Of course, when questioned, with the crayon stains still on my hands, I denied the act.)
When I was done with the glazing I felt a tremendous release. You know when you are craving a certain type of food (for me that would be bread) but you can't allow yourself to have it, and then one day you can no longer stand it so you buy two whole wheat bagels, eat them both in one sitting even though you may regret it the next day, and then realize the craving is gone... Okay, so you found me out... That's how I felt painting the tiles.
Then, placing the tiles in the kiln rack there was a sense of excitement, even though I could already see the result in my mind. (For those of you unfamiliar with ceramics, you may not know that, unlike painting on canvas, you cannot see the colors until they have been fired.) I let the kiln fire overnight. As my kiln is indoors I have to make sure there is plenty of ventilation which can make for a chilly night in the winter... fortunately, I don't live in Wisconsin. Also, I would like to note that it's important to be alert for anything unusual... like an explosion, for instance... just kidding. But you would never leave a kiln unattended, any more than you would leave your clothes dryer running while you went shopping... would you?
Around noon the next day the tiles were cool enough to remove. That's the best part. No matter how many years of experience you may have, there is always the surprise element. Some things look better than you expected, some worse, and some about the same. In this case I pretty much predicted the outcome so I wasn't disappointed. In fact, looking at them over the past few days, they are starting to grow on me. However, I will probably break them up and use them in my next mosaic.
So, what is the moral of this story that compelled me to write about it? Number one lesson is that I must fit at least half an hour of artwork into my daily schedule, regardless of how many resumes I have or have not sent out that day. Number two is that for me the satisfaction is more in the process than the end result. Therefore, I should free myself of needing to have all my ducks in a row before I start out, because the outcome isn't that important anyway. Number three is that the weight of that horrible lie about the bathroom wall is now off my shoulders after all these years!
(photo copyright roslyn m wilkins)

Postcards from Ballona

In 1995 a group of artists (Lori Escalera, Lucy Blake-Elahi and Francois Bardol) came together with the idea of beautifying an ugly little section of the Ballona Creek bike path at Overland Avenue in Culver City (next to the library). Their vision encompassed involving local students to paint "postcards" to tell the history of the creek. Over the years this lovely mural has suffered the ravages of neglect, vandalism and graffiti (as you can see in the photo above).

On Sunday, April 19th, 2009, all the damage will begin to be reversed. And you can be part of this important project.

On Sunday you can assist with the drawing and prepping. Monday (20th) through Wednesday (22nd) you can help out with the actual painting.

Everyone is welcome to participate. You don't have to be an artist... just enthusiastic and willing. Bring your children, bring your grandparents!
For more information about the event and the story of the original mural, Lori has put together a great little movie and slide show. All can be found at http://www.thestreetpainter.com/CommunityArt/UPCOMING%21.html.

See you there!

(photo copyright roslyn m wilkins)

Reading in the Rain
In the middle of emailing resumes and filling out online applications in order to find a job so I can pay my mortgage for the forseeable future, I decided to leave all of that behind and head for the Getty Center, my home away from home! My main purpose was to do some research related to the archaeology project I am currently working on and possibly the subject of my final paper. But somehow I got sidetracked in the periodicals room and never made it down to the stacks.
Perhaps a little-known fact is that the Getty Research Library has a ton of current art-related magazines available to the general public. As with all the material in the library, you can't check it out and take it home, but there are chairs and tables where you can make yourself comfy, spread out if need be, and read read read. The magazines come in all languages and it's fun to pick your way through an article written in Spanish, French or Italian... not so much in German! The rain was splashing against the windows... what a great day to sit and read.
Although financially it has been (and still is) extremely scary, my time away from corporate life has been very valuable to me in terms of figuring out who I am deep down inside. As I was sitting in the library gobbling up the articles on fine art, antiques, ceramics and crafts, the overwhelming thought came to me that I have been so busy all my life working to make enough money to support myself, I've never had the time to be me! This is where I am the happiest, in an environment where the sole purpose is art. This is what I am about! It would have been nice to have this certainty a few decades ago, but I am grateful that I at least can acknowledge it now...
I was getting a little hungry so I made my way over to the cafeteria. Even though it was a grey, wet day, the Getty was still packed with people and all of them seemed to be eating lunch at the same time. I found the one empty table and within a minute a gentleman came over and asked to sit with me. He told me he was a tour bus driver, here for the day with some students. Of course, this was deja vu from this same time last year when I got talking to a tour guide and I ended up in tour leader school (yes, I am now a certified Tour Director). My lunch companion asked me what I was doing there and I explained that I came to the Getty as often as possible as there is nowhere else I would rather be. He said I was fortunate to be able to do that and I certainly agree!!!!
In the afternoon I sauntered around some of the exhibits. I enjoyed being on my own and able to wander where I pleased. I especially enjoyed La Roldana's Saint Gines: The Making of a Polychrome Sculpture (ongoing). The Getty always does a splendid job with their informative interactive displays. If you go to the Saint Gines page there is a link to the video I saw, but of course, it doesn't replace seeing the statue in person.
My next stop was Tales in Sprinkled Gold: Japanese Lacquer for European Collectors. Again, nothing replaces seeing this magnificent piece in person... it is truly spectacular. I had a ticket for the lecture with Julia Hutt of the V&A in London. I learned about the scenes of the Omi Hakkei (Eight Views of Omi / Lake Biwa). You'll just have to look that up for yourself!
If I told you about all the other things I saw and did on my day at the Getty, it would take a whole day to write about and I'm sure you have better things to do! All I can say is that paying the price of parking your car is more than worth it for a magical day, and I'm already looking forward to my next visit.