The Sketchbook Project 2012
This is the first time I've ever participated in the Sketchbook Project-- thanks so much to The Arthouse Co-op for sending me a journal-- that was a delightful surprise! (maybe I should get on twitter more often-- hmm?)
About the art-- this sketchbook was very much an experiment for me. When I signed up, I knew I wanted to do something about flight, and that I wanted to use gouache and ink-- and that was pretty much it.
I waited a long time for the book to arrive-- I had just about given up until the first week in April, when I discovered that it had arrived, but my kids had stashed it in a nice safe place! Well, better late than never...
I began layering in color. I wasn't sure if the paper would stand up to the gouache, and was pleased that it did. But when I began using colored sharpie over the paint, it bled through both the paint and the paper. Frustrating!
On a whim, I tried painting over the ruined pages with acrylic instead. I was tickled to discover that not only could I block the sharpie(mostly!), I could layer gouache, sharpie, and even colored pencil on top of that. Now I was having fun...
Here's the book in order! I added the captions for each page below-- in the actual book, they were all at the end instead. Words are kind of sappy-- the work of about 10 minutes!! Wish I'd had a little more time to work on it-- this was fun!
The cover. I'm actually in Mill Run, PA, not Baltimore MD-- no idea how they came up with that! Oddly, I did live there for awhile as a child...
When the blackbird pulls the night down over the coals of the dying sun
The phoenix rises to give the call-- a new soul must ignite to fill the day.
Birds fill the skies, mourning for the spinning soul now fallen
Then turn to the stars to praise and entice them.
They sing love of wind and water
of light among branches, and leaves unfurling, then
Foom! The stars are intrigued. The birds scatter.
They sink through the canopy, considering
One tumbles to earth, where the scarab waits for its egg-- the others recede.
The scarab tumbles its egg to the easternmost shore
And into the arms of the waiting sea
who dreams it down deep, deep
to settle in darkness, waves lulling
until the new soul pushes through
surfaces, blooming
and dawns.
About the art-- this sketchbook was very much an experiment for me. When I signed up, I knew I wanted to do something about flight, and that I wanted to use gouache and ink-- and that was pretty much it.
I waited a long time for the book to arrive-- I had just about given up until the first week in April, when I discovered that it had arrived, but my kids had stashed it in a nice safe place! Well, better late than never...
I began layering in color. I wasn't sure if the paper would stand up to the gouache, and was pleased that it did. But when I began using colored sharpie over the paint, it bled through both the paint and the paper. Frustrating!
On a whim, I tried painting over the ruined pages with acrylic instead. I was tickled to discover that not only could I block the sharpie(mostly!), I could layer gouache, sharpie, and even colored pencil on top of that. Now I was having fun...
Here's the book in order! I added the captions for each page below-- in the actual book, they were all at the end instead. Words are kind of sappy-- the work of about 10 minutes!! Wish I'd had a little more time to work on it-- this was fun!
The cover. I'm actually in Mill Run, PA, not Baltimore MD-- no idea how they came up with that! Oddly, I did live there for awhile as a child...
When the blackbird pulls the night down over the coals of the dying sun
The phoenix rises to give the call-- a new soul must ignite to fill the day.
Birds fill the skies, mourning for the spinning soul now fallen
Then turn to the stars to praise and entice them.
They sing love of wind and water
of light among branches, and leaves unfurling, then
Foom! The stars are intrigued. The birds scatter.
They sink through the canopy, considering
One tumbles to earth, where the scarab waits for its egg-- the others recede.
The scarab tumbles its egg to the easternmost shore
And into the arms of the waiting sea
who dreams it down deep, deep
to settle in darkness, waves lulling
until the new soul pushes through
surfaces, blooming
and dawns.