Stalled! Stuck! Drained of all artistic endeavor!  Whenever this happens, Zoya Seth's advise, "surround oneself with stuff that activates the creative and energetic you." rings true.
 So, off to an art show!
 hello studio recently held an opening reception for art of Holly Veselka.  The moment that you step into the studio you are stilled by the subtle calm that fills the space. The signature piece of the show, also the exhibit's namesake, Ancient Sunlight catches your attention and holds it-as the dappled surface of the piece moves from dark to light to dark again, as if capturing the play of shadow and sunlight on the Earth's surface in a magic orb.

 
The studio itself is not designed to invite in naturally, yet the light within the studio seemed to enjoy playing across the surfaces of the large scale installations. The pieces reflected a different sentiment relative to the angle from which it is viewed; at a moment moody and the next, bright.  This aura is best described by the carefully selected quote from the exhibit brochure:

The evening began as a means to "surround oneself with stuff that activates and energizes you". In that it succeeded, though not quite in the way expected. Indeed, a pencil has been put to paper only it is to write a notes to friends and family reminding them that they the sunshine and the peace when the world turns moody.

    

     Truly, I should be ready to sketch the Tree in Spring, however, with winter resettling here (again!) the tree is giving me attitude! The tree taunts me as it’s branches sway in the wind against a sky that is as grey as Guitar #16 by Daydream Dyeworks! I can’t seem to capture the the life-like beauty of the tree in the same way I captured the essence of summer and fall.
   
The angle of the main branches against the sky is exactly the way it should be. I couldn’t have captured it better however, the elements that make it so dramatic, the small branches and moss balls, are harder to capture.Would it be possible to use another technique to capture the small branches and moss balls? Would crewel embroidery be possible? If so, how? Perhaps, it’s time to delve into a little research into the use of embroidery on knitting. Intriguing!

The winter storms are passing through and the rain that they bring will be become the bounty of Spring! Happy Spring! Happy Easter!

   
An unusual humidity settled into the house just as the evening dinner dishes were being cleared from the table. Glances out the kitchen window above the sink revealed the same grey sky that had hovered over our corner of the world for the last week. The patio, with it's plants plants just starting to re-root after a brutal winter, the yard, with patches of lovely green grass visible under a pile of late winter leaves, and the big Live Oak tree looked much the same. Only...the breeze, that had playfully flung the late winter leaves down from the tree and onto the deck for days on end, had stilled. A quick check of the Weather App indicted a warm, humid evening-nothing more. Yet...an eerie feeling hovered as the household settled in for the night.

   
Another misty morning, only this time it's a light rain rather than fog that is creating a misty view outside my picture window. A quick peek outside for the newspaper reveals warmer than expected temperatures. Great for greening the grass and coaxing the wildflowers to bloom but not so great for an artist trying to capture The Tree in Winter. If the sun comes out later today the tree will have green buds tomorrow, and I have yet to finalize the graph of the tree!
     My dilemma revolves around the moss ball on the tree which are hidden by summer and fall foliage but give the tree it's character in winter. The moss balls hang off the ends of smaller branches, and those branches are not easily knit up. So, additional techniques will be needed if those elements are to be included. Or, should I focus on the drama of the bare branches against the sky and let the other elements fall away?

     The timer woke me up with a start, and by that I mean Little Girl Kitty raced up the stairs, jumped on the bed, and landed on my legs (with claws out for stabilization).  The result-a springboard reaction-and blink, blink, blink, "Ouch! I am awake!", I announce loudly. Little Girl Kitty is pleased. "Siri," I sigh, "turn of my alarm. Set a reminder to clip Little Girl's claws." Suddenly, Little Girl Kitty's pleased return blink-blinks turn to a suspicious-squint. Launching herself off the bed, she races down the stairs, leaving additional pinpricks in my legs. Aargh!  Fully awake now, I get ready for the day and follow the flurry of fluff down the stairs. Rounding the corner I am enticed towards the kitchen by the smell of coffee perking.
      In the kitchen the cats have formed a little semi-circle in front of the coffee pot which is giving it's finally gurgling perk. "You made my coffee!", I exclaim in, mock surprise, and give each preening head a rub. Reaching into the cupboard above the coffee pot I pull down the treat can and a coffee cup. Coffee poured and treats given, we stroll towards the chair by the picture window to see what the day will bring.
     Today, find that a soft blanket of grey fog had rolled in turning the world into a mysterious, muffled, alternate reality of its former self. Thin tendrils of gray weave in and out of the potted plants on the deck outside. The shifting of shadow and morning light is hypnotic.  The cats settle on the cat perch in quiet contemplation while I finish my first cup of coffee. They hardly notice my movements as i contemplatively refill my coffee cup. It's the perfect morning to finish the sketch of The Tree, in all it's winter drama.
     Resettled in the chair I reach for my sketchbook, pencil, and crayons.  Most of the sketch is finished: the dry winter grass, the tree trunk, and the branches are beautifully proportioned in 4 inch by 4 inch square. All that remains is the moss balls that cover the tree.....and we settle in for a morning of sketching, coffee, and contemplation.
   
   
  

The evening is warmer than it has been in recent weeks. Even still, a cool draft from the window catches the heat from the coffee cup sitting on the end table, and swirls the steam up towards the vaulted ceiling of our town home.

Resting on the arm of the sofa, I set the laundry basket down and watched the swirl of steam float up the stairs like our very own little ghost.   Taking the coffee in hand, I sip it -savoring the quiet of the house and the beauty of the tree outside my picture window. This evening, its angled arms are set against a cloudy sky; a relief in deep to light charcoal reminding me of the Piet Mondrian's 1912 cubist painting, Grey Tree.
     Another sip of coffee and my mind drifts off.....remembering how D.H. and I discovered this little town-home in Oak Haven Heights barely two summers ago. Something about this town-home captured the artistic spirit that only appears when decorating the house for the holidays. One evening while taking a break from unpacking I decided to organize a few potted plants on the deck. I saw The Tree! For no reason whatsoever, I sat down to sketch and color a simple image of  The Tree in all it's summer greenery. I chalked it up to the influence of the adult coloring therapy trend.
     Still, that tree has become the object of my affection. Whenever, I need a moment to still the hurried day I find myself gazing at it and enjoying how it stands as a sentinel on the street corner, watching over us. The need to capture it artistically just wouldn't go away.  But how? Then came the day that I unpacked the knitting box-and found yarn in exactly the colors of The Tree. Suddenly, I found myself graphing my summer tree sketch, viewing Youtube videos on knitting with more than one color, and, to my surprise, actually knitting The Tree. Autumn followed and another knitted portrait of The Tree came off my knitting needles. Now, as I gaze out at The Tree....


The grey sky suddenly transforms itself into a white sheet of paper upon which I am certain a charcoal sketch of the tree will perfectly capture the shading on the tree. Graphing the thick tree trunk for a knitted pattern
will not be difficult, however capturing the thinner branches near the top will be a challenge. Would embroidered accents work?   A final sip and he coffee is cup empty. My little ghost of steam has snuggled in with the cat whose snores drift down the stairs from the second floor bedroom. Time to finish folding the laundry. Still, when that is done there could be time to sketch, just a little, before starting the Chicken ala King dinner. Smiling, I head up the stairs..

 Have you ever had a day when it dawns on you that you are an unrealized artist?  Something sparks that creative spirit within and sends you reeling down the isles of your local craft store plucking every beautifully displayed project pull sheet, and related craft materials, off the shelves, into your basket, and out the door to your home for hours of deeply satisfying crafting therapy.
      Traditionally, the blame could fall on the shoulders of the parents. They who sent you, on every Christmas break, spring break, and summer break, to every arts and education camp they could find. So delighted in the result, they snatch the completed projects from young hands and sent them hither and yon as gifts for relatives and friends. To this day the first thing that comes to mind when a project presents itself is, "Well, who would I give it to?'
    Additionally, the economy could be to blame -that which sent you to join the ranks of the "makers and doers". Complex home repair projects blend with the simple task of mending a tear the seam of a shirt.  YouTube videos and Pinterest boards become the go-to reference  even serving as delightful talking points at parties.
     Then again, blame is, perhaps, too strong a word. Rather, it is the realization that, in Elder Uchtdol's words, "The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul." When did you realize that you were an unrealized artist?