Theme day-Pirate Arrrrght Day

Okay,
I feel like being stupid (granted I always am), but I feel that next weekend I will be celebrating Pirate Arrrght Day.  I will probably be the only one as I am a chronic looser these days.  I will be flying my artistically rendered Jolly Roger high.  Part of that Carpe Diem thing, or rather Carpe Annum.

Non print related just personal

I have problems with looking at my education and looking at where other people are in their lives, and where I am at right now.  That being said the last time I was able to be home for Christmas was 2007.  I will be able to go home this year.  2008 was unable to afford it.  January 2009 broke ankle devastated me financially.  December 2009 had to work it.  December 2010 unable to afford it.  It may not always feel like it or look like it to others, but I have made progress.  Thank you to all of the people who have helped me.

Year of the Dragon

Just a quick little wood engraving.  Thinking about Janus and this two headed dragon toy I had as a kid.

Kitchen Lithography

I've been playing with this one at home a little bit, I haven't gotten it to work exactly like it is supposed to.  My results have actually gone the other way, the soap remains white and the ucoated areas print black, but then again I have lost the magic touch.

How Ink is made

Got my Blog Back!

I lost my password to this for awhile and I no longer use the email used to create it (approximately two months ago.) I am a pushy woman though, and I managed to force google into giving it back to me. In the interim I have learned some new tricks, like how to link up to paypal to sell work.

The Wapsipinicon Almanac

For any who follow my work, I will be appearing with Todd Kimm in the Wapsipinicon Almanac. It is published out of Iowa and covers many subject. It has been described as a cross between the New Yorker and the Farmers Almanac, and is a Midwest staple. Founded in the 1970's the owner publishes on old letterpress presses.
Unfortunately the link option does not seem to be working properly; their website is www.wapsialmanac.com

Proof of my Family Oni

Yes, my family has an oni. We tend to be haunted by dyslexia with a touch of aphasia.

AN print

Blue Fork Lady

Immaculatta

Todd Kimm Writing

One Friday after lunch in November, Paul, Morris and Leonard sat on the floor in the hallway by the boiler room, soaking in the warmth and comparing scars.

“I have these two new this winter,” said Leonard proudly. He displayed a pink line on the inside of his wrist and another hovering an inch above his elbow.

“Wow, how did you get them?” said Morris, hiding his disappointedly unblemished forearms in his lap.

“This one here,” said Leonard, tapping the one on his wrist, “barbed wire, sledding backwards down Glory Hill. “This one my big brother pushed me down on the ice. My dad murdered him.”

“Are they all stitch jobs?” Morris asked.

“All,” said Leonard. “I took them out with my own teeth.” He jawed his elbow to demonstrate.

“Do they itch?” asked Paul.

“Nah,” said Leonard, scratching one at the idea.

“What about you, Paul?” said Morris. “Got any new ones?”

“No, I still just have the one from two summers ago.” Paul tapped the white dash above his left eyebrow where the oak branch had cut. “And this chicken pox scar.” He brushed his cheek.

“Chicken pox don’t count,” said Leonard incredulously.

Paul nodded. He understood the rules, but to him it was still a scar.

“What’s that?” Morris said, pointing at Paul.

“What’s what?” said Paul. He followed Morris’ finger to where it appeared to be pointing: his left hush puppy. “My shoe?” Paul cuffed a scuff of dust with the back of his hand. He hoped there wasn’t a glob of sheep manure stuck somewhere he couldn’t see. He’d tracked some into school two winters ago and nearly died of embarrassment when it started to stink during math problems.

“No,” Morris said, “on your leg.”

Paul strained forward to hitch up the leg of his chocolate-brown corduroys. He was now concerned some of the hairs his dad had had a talk with him about were already beginning to sprout. Paul followed the pale gooseflesh of his leg up into the darkness of his pant leg.

“I really don’t see anything,” he said.

“There, look,” said Morris. “Leonard, you see it, don’t you? So faint you almost can’t see it. But a perfect scar by any measure. The winner of the contest, if you ask me.”

Leonard dove in for a look, getting on his stomach and squinting severely. Paul felt Leonard’s eyelashes tickle his ankle he was so close.

“Yeah, I see it,” he said after what seemed like 10 minutes. “You’ve got a good one there. I’ll give you the prize.”

Paul didn’t know which was harder to believe: that Leonard was conceding defeat or that he possessed this marvelous scar and didn’t know it.

Paul strained backward, craning painfully and upside down through the space of his armpit, to see what his friends were talking about. For the life of him, though, he couldn’t make anything out, aside from a mole or two. Paul’s legs had not seen much sun in their lives, and this, for better or worse, preserved their baby pale appearance. Wearing shorts for him was a mortifying experience.

“How’d you get it?” Leonard intoned, now clearly amazed. “It’s silver.”

“I don’t know,” said Paul, growing irritated. “I don’t see anything at all.”

“You have to look beside it a little in order to see it,” offered Morris. “Kind of like trying to spot the Milky Way at night.”

“What could have caused it, though?” asked Leonard. “That’s the question.”

“Something real sharp, had to be,” said Morris. “So sharp he probably didn’t even feel it.”

“But there would have been blood,” said Leonard, sitting up again. “Buckets of it. I mean, even Myron Floren is human.”

“Nothing happened to my leg,” said Paul sharply. He slapped down his pant leg and stood. His head swam. He staggered two steps in the direction of the boiler room door.

“Something happened,” said Morris. “We saw it with our own two eyes.”

“Your own two eyes can’t see.” Paul was nearly shrieking, quivering the little asbestos balls that hung precariously from the ceiling above their heads.

Kelly McCloskey then stepped into the cone of light that fell from two round lights in the ceiling. Paul sensed from the look on her face that she had been standing there in the shadows for some time.

“I know what happened,” she said. “I know what it’s from.” Her voice was steady and serious, not shaky like when she spoke on the first day of school.

Kelly’s seriousness and fire-engine hair brought a burst of laughter from Morris and Leonard that ricocheted up and down the hallway. The glare Kelly shot back was meaner than the meanest teacher in school could not have conjured. It silenced Paul’s friends and withered them backward down the hallway like a burst of fire. Kelly’s certainty and might caused Paul to believe what Kelly McCloskey had said. He believed she knew the reason behind this thing his friends had found on his leg.

Paul turned to see that they were alone. The hallway was empty. Morris and Leonard had fled.

Writing by Todd Kimm

Sawed from a bolt of green chiffon, a mantle to cover cream chiffon, stenciled with flowers. Bold, red flowers blowing west, tilted toward the sun. This was the dream dress, a plan for a magic dress. She had finally found something she wanted. The knowledge brought her heart to her mouth and she could call her mother without audacity: "Mother, Howard's going to make me a dress."

"The farm magic dream dress," whispered Carol into her arm through her black hair. Lying in bed, she wept as love streamed up through the floor from the land below. Gravity had somehow reversed itself, and her feet floated above her head, and her hair floated above her feet until she saw stars as if planted in a black field. Only yesterday, there was no magic, there was no dream. And now there was. Carol thumbed the spot on the back of her leg where Mother had applied the iodine. There was a ringworm living in there. Jeffy, the neighbor boy, said it would climb to her brain and drive her insane. Daddy said if she lay on her stomach in the sun that it would die. But Carol liked the ringworm. Once she invited a butterfly to live in her ear and had cried when it refused. She thought that maybe the ringworm would give her practice at hosting better things. Now the iodine was stinging her leg. She hated to think what the ringworm felt.

Am I your Cannibal Dancer?

Oh world, am I finally to finish this cannibal dance? For those not in the know. The Cannibal Dance was a practice amongst the Native American Tribes of the Northwest (i.e. Kwaikutl (sp?)) Almost like royalty the cannibal dancer came from particular families. When the selected member hit a certain age they were abandonned in the wild. They spent a year in complete isolation away from their tribe. Over the coarse of that year they usually forgot how to fully speak and became feral dangerous things that would attack other humans. They were allowed back into the community once a year under guard to perform their strange shaking erratic dances, pronounce their strange sentences on the world, and then were driven back into the wilds for another year.

Rabbit Exchange Print

I originally made this for a different Rabbit Exchange Print thing, but I missed it, another one hopped up though. This is the death of Rabbit Ears playing on a flat screen. Lots of incongrous thoughts bounding around this one. The main thought revolves around the evolution of media. There are some things I probably should have done differently in this.

Calling Out for Prints for Peace

The deadline for this one is quickly approaching, April 15.

http://www.printsforpeacemexico.blogspot.com/

I'm Behind-Philagrafika 2010

These images are from the Philagrafika 2010 exhibition. The tires above were made by Betsabeé Romero. They remind of an idea I have been kicking around since graduate school revolving around Akkadian cylinder seals. The installation below Mundus Admirabalis was created by Regina Silveira. It was a fairly extensive exhibition showing all walks of printmaking in the 21st century. One artist, Oscar Munoz, had a very interesting set up. He projected silkscreened photographs from obituaries in a pool of water. The water slowly spilled out distorting the images. For more extensive coverage, you can check out...http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/05/arts/design/05philagrafika.html

Vitamin Grand Reopening

Bartolomeo Pinelli

Normally when people think of Dante's works: the Inferno, Purgatorio, and the Paradisio, the illustrater that pops into their head is beyond a doubt Gustave Dore. As a bibliophile I occassionally like to indulge in looking at early editions on ebay, this fellow popped up for an Inferno search. If I might add there is also a facebook thing for him.

Walton Ford

Really like this guy, he does watercolors that are the dark side of Audubon.
http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/ford/clip1.html
He worked with a master printmaker named, Peter Petengill at Wingate Studio. They handle their multiplate a little bit different-as a two person job, but it looks like a really effective registration trick. The print shown above is I believe a six color job.

Rather than leaving the paper and felts down while it printed, the other person held the paper and felts back and gradually lowered it to the plate (making sure it was lined up right) as it was run through the press.

Dios de Los Muertos

I started this one awhile ago for a Dios de Los Muertos Print show. Decided to finish it up. Might do a little bit more. It really didn't scan that well.

Istanbul Defense Ministy takes over the Historic Printmakers' High School

For some reason this article just caught my eye. I hope some day they go back to offering tours of the Printmakers' High School.
http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/n.php?n=8220why-doesn8217t-the-ministry-of-defense-evacuate-those-storages8221-asked-gunay.-2010-10-05

Maybe this is part of the Printmakers' School...wishful thinking. A golden cage to keep frustrated and wayward students from running away.

Battle Weary Athena - A Valentine's Day Offering

I started this one towards the end of my Marywood stint. Athena was the goddess of wisdom, originally she was also the goddess of love, but a change in politics occurred with the birth of the beautiful Aphrodite. I suppose having intelligent educated women in charge of love was not that appealing to males. She was relegated to the goddess of war after said birth, although are the full attributes of Athena really that bad of a combination? The goddess of love, wisdom, and warfare. After all is love really without its scraps? Is it better to fight them with wisdom or the blind rage of Ares?

Curious and Frustated

Alright was looking for an Egyptian printmaker and I came across Maher Raef (1926-1999). I cannot find a single image of his work, and I am also rather curious about a term they used in the article blurb I did find on him. The man evidently made technical inovations in the processes of "cameo and intaglio." (http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2010/989/cu11.htm ) I mean I know that cameos are that profile Victorian jewelry thing, I did find a thing that talked about cameo proofing in terms of minting coins http://www.ehow.com/facts_5030440_cameo-proof.html?ref=fuel If anybody has a clue about this I would greatly appreciate it.

On the Importance of Bacon

There is something very special about bacon...In Judaism part of the reason the pig is viewed as being unkosher is because it is too close to human. With that in mind if Catholicism really wanted to attract followers they should forgo with the cracker communion and go with bacon.

English people of coarse know the importance of bacon. Back in the day, the custom of the Dunmow Flitch was to give a newly married couple bacon if they had a peaceful year and could honestly say that they had been faithfull to one and other over that time period. Anyways found some sweet bacon prints by Mike Geno http://www.artstarphilly.com/

Step into the Light - Orit Hofshi

I came across this printmaker, hailing from Israel, and really liked her stuff. She specializes in monumental wood cuts that are intricate enough to be wood engravings. Included below is a link to her artist statement and bio. She is showing in all the big places for printmakers these days. If I ever go back to Israel I may have to try to meet her. Her name incidently comes from the Hebrew word "or" meaning light, if I am not mistaken the word light in Hebrew is almost like snow in Inuit.

http://www.ipcny.org/exhib/exhib_np/np_bio/hofshi_orit.htm

http://www.laprintmakers.com/site/files/u3/interleaf/InterleafSpring2010.pdf

Old Marywood Plates

I found these two old plates that I had started back at Marywood and decided to finish them. They're just small quick little things both are engravings with mezzotint and dry point, although the fingerprint one on the left also has line etch in it.