Note to self – (part two)

A few days ago I asked myself: What happens if I (re-)make my linocut motif into a collage? Here is the answer: What I’ve learned? I think my experience can be summed up like this: You can never know exactly what will happen until you try … !

A short report from a busy semester

My intention, as summer turned in to autumn, was to “expand & broaden” my creative skills – turning from urban- & botanical sketching into testing different kinds of artistic methods and materials. Designing my own art education, I am free to choose my own path. Having a MA in literature & aesthetic theory (including art…

A degree of darkness

I spent my weekend in a graphic workshop learning the art of cyanotype. Or, to be more precise, studying the method of cyanotype – the art will hopefully enter into my work as I go along. Cyanotype is a nineteenth century photographic process using chemicals that produce beautiful blue prints when exposed to sunlight. The…

Passing Through

A short story of excellence, dedication and perseverance & of the joy and importance of meaning-making: Ted Kooser (1939) was the 13th Poet Laureate of the United States and received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 2005.

The true dwelling of the holy

Small Kindnesses by Danusha Laméris I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you” when someone sneezes, a leftover from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying. And sometimes, when you spill lemons from your grocery bag, someone else will help you…

Venturing into art

 ven·tur·ing: Venture noun: an undertaking involving uncertainty as to the outcome, especially a risky or dangerous one. Venture verb: to take the risk of. Venture verb (used without object): to make or embark upon a venture. Venturing into art, I have been thinking about this: What is the relationship between things I find beautiful, intriguing,…

Autumn – already?

Autumn Again the wind flakes gold-leaf from the trees and the painting darkens— as if a thousand penitents kissed an icon till it thinned back to bare wood, without diminishment. — Jane Hirshfield