Artist by Nature, Books by Design

Art Show

“What is possible in art becomes thinkable in life.” —Brian Eno

By Rachel on October 22, 2017

If you’re fortunate, you are the kind of soul with whom art has its way. You can’t stop the command of tears or physical response when faced with the really mind blowing stuff – theater – music – literature – paintings – sculpture. Or when the the highest evolution of creativity is so perfect and true that you have an out of human experience with it. Rare and beautiful moments to be sure.

In varying degrees, experiencing art is a personal passage of understanding. We may not know why we are drawn to an image, a color, a medium. We are just still before it. Or we vibrate wildly with it. Even the mediocre stuff is worth the discomfort of experiencing – it gives us the chance to be the critic. Who doesn’t need that once in awhile?

I recently saw an exhibit called Build Hope, Not Walls at Big Medium in east Austin’s Canopy development (do yourself a favor and vistit Sa-Tén for a delicious nibble when you go). The event was a fund raiser to help immigrants and refugees and each artist created a brick.

Gasping 150 times must oxygenate the blood pretty thoroughly because I left feeling elevated, energized, and very grateful on so many levels. There’s plenty of research out there siting how art affects the brain, but you don’t need to read about it – go experience some. Or better yet, make it yourself. It’s so good for our grey matter to get off it’s usual course and explore completely new and spontaneous ideas.

In the mean time, here are just a few of the bricks that helped build my hope.

Top: Jonas Criscoe, Right: Liz Hermanson, Bottom: Rehab El Sadek

Top L: Rebecca Bennett, Top R: Starkey, Bottom L: Trish Garcia, Bottom R: Sylvia Troconis

Left: Silvia Majocchi, Center: Robin Saenger, Right: Janel Jefferson

Left: Jill Thrasher, Center: Francisco Godoy, Top R: Mark Puente, Bottom R: Paul Wright

Top L: Brian Phillips, Bottom L: Jen Hassin, Center: Leslie Pierce, Top R: Catherine Hicks, Bottom R: Jamie Wade

Holiday cards

“Each person’s life is like a mandala – a vast, limitless circle. We stand in the center of our own circle, and everything we see, hear and think forms the mandala of our life.” – Pema Chodron

By Rachel on October 11, 2017

This may have been my favorite card ever. Designed to fold and create an envelope with label on one side and activity on the other, with our family photo collage card inside.

My kiddo learned how to draw paper mandalas in art class and we spent hours making them. It’s truly relaxing and strangely rejuvenating. And what do folks need more during the holidays than a chance to just be still, reflective, calm?

The instructions took a little doing to get them to both fit and be readable. Most likely no one actually created their own mandala – but the opportunity to make one now is here!

Included in the card were links to this mesmerizing Tibetan sand mandala construction and destruction as well as this mind blowing illustration of how the planets rotate the sun forming their own mandala. Scroll down about 3 images and you’ll see a ’13 Venus years, 8 Earth years’ illustration. You’ll know you’re there when your jaw is hanging open.

Minor efforts transformed our hamster into Santa and ‘lil dog into a reindeer -like beast for our address labels, little gift tags and cards my son gave to friends.

Sadly I was swayed by the Office Depot gal to print the cards 2-up (to save paper and money! Why didn’t I think of that?) instead of sticking to my original plan to print them 1-up (because they are too small to hold the 4×6″ photo prints, I DID think of that, duh!). But – ya know, perfection is for those who can’t laugh at themselves, and have bigger budgets than me I guess.

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Holiday cards

“Handmade presents are scary because they reveal that you have too much free time.” – Douglas Coupland

By Rachel on October 6, 2017

Pop-Up Christmas and New Years card from 2014. Outside of photo prints at less than ¢9 per, no new paper was needed for this piece. Red card stock from years ago, small envelopes pre-printed with old address, over which we put a label.

For the third time in my entire life, I’m thinking about Christmas before late November. Cards specifically. It’s absolutely the best part of the holidays for me. For the record, ‘Christmas card’ is loose terminology. New Years Cards or Happy End of Last Year Cards are probably more accurate. Whenever they get mailed, they are always an I love you to my people.

Forget the materialism and crap music we can’t escape every December. Focus only on the gazillions of Earthlings all thinking about those they love and how to be generous with them. What powerful juice that is. Gives me happy chills. (Not to discount the misery many folks feel around the holidays. Their pain is real and I respect that my glee is no substitute for their real feelings to the contrary.)

Making cards is one of the few projects I enjoy from seed to harvest. Imagining, doodling, assessing the current collection of envelops and papers. Allowing myself to linger in the photo collection amassed throughout the year, noting my family’s changes and growth spurts. Going through my address book and email lists to determine a final count. Whittling a huge idea into something that fits a tight budget. Making mock ups and eventually bringing a two dimensional sketch into something I can hold. Creating a silly address label. Even addressing envelops with the right movie as company – something I have previously saturated myself with like say Star Wars (IV, V, VI), Harry Potter (all of ‘um), Princess Bride, Waiting to Exhale, a whole season of Sex and the City – you feel me.

It’s a gift to me to spend a wee bit of in-my-mind time with the folks I’ve gathered in my life and those I inherited that fill me up with love. Sifting through a personal history of card making has been fairly entertaining, thinking the next couple posts will be dedicated to the preservation of such non-sensery.

Then there are the cards that come my way – what a joy to see my friends and their ever morphing kiddos. My family far and wide. Cousins and 2nd cousins and previous co-workers, and new acquaintances. My sweet great aunt who never fails to write a three page letter. Not copied! Hand written! I even love the cards we get from the Austin Wildlife Rescue.

I’ve collected and cherished these sacred scrapes of my tribe’s earliest recorded history since I was old enough to have my own address. Before that even. So much cuteness and thoughtfulness and beauty and peeks into the worlds of those I love.

Alas, the paper bits have piled up and are bound to do what piles do – decay. And yes, it is a powerful and unstoppable process. Mass changing shape and form. Hard to soft, dry to wet. Precious paper to silverfish poop. We can slow it down some, but there is no real stopping it, nor can there be. Without decay, there would be no room for the new, the fresh, the evolved.

But better to be worn out than rotted out. Seen and touched and used and loved. Fantasies of repurposing holiday cards have floated around my head for years and as my collection is now grown in volume such that I no longer want to expand my precious storage space to accommodate it, this might be the year for catharsis.

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