Recently in drawings Category

The first copy of Studio Potter that I own was given to me by a high school friend in 1974. She had been out to visit Dennis Parks at Tuscarora and thought I would be interested to read about it and potentially visit. I never visited, but the copy reminds me of our New York City  high school art room where we had one kick wheel and a great desire to understand and see  the potential of a larger world of ceramics.

The most recent summer issue is hot off the press. The topic for this issue is Tools and Technology in which I've written about the tool of drawing. The articles come at the topic from all directions. The editor, Mary Barringer, brings together a diverse range of approaches that insist on an interplay between the maker and their tools. It is a small publication and if you have any interest more subscriptions and submissions would help to continue to keep this independent magazine vibrant and alive.

Here it is the longest day of the year.

I watched the sun come up and the colors fade tonight,  I'm told I am a year older today, but I don't feel any wiser.


"There's only about 20 birthdays you should be allowed to celebrate. And the others? You're wasting cake and paper....When you're 20, you get a birthday. Any time you enter a new set of tens: 20, 30, 40, 50, you get a birthday. 21, you get an awesome birthday. And then, THAT'S IT. A birthday every ten years. "I'm 26!" Great, go to work. Who gives a s***?--Patton Oswalt on when you should get a birthday"

I've been deep in the studio with the windows wide open to each new gust of cool air. The crisp light highlighted individual grass stems. It was as if grass stalks have been whispering poems to their inky shadows. At the end of the evening I turn off the lights and walk to the house while the huge moon keeps an eye on progress.


The tulip magnolia
writes first in white ink, then in green.
each new twig as ink to the reading mind
- From Ink by Jane Hirshfield

On the 5:00 dog walk the afternoon thunderstorm was fading. As I looked across the pond into the swampy corner it was as if chalky paint had been mixed into the color of every willow, red maple and green ash leaf. By the time we had taken our full spin, the sun was out, hot on my back.The board fencing around the fields was deep black like writing on the hills.

We had a lovely dinner on the porch as the light faded from the trees across the pond.  This orange will have to be a stand-in for our dessert of beautiful raspberries. Fireflies in the distance spoke the language of a June night. Happy Fathers Day!

Last night we took an after dinner walk. At first it seemed so dark we were unsure of the path and as our eyes adjusted the half moon created shadows and encouraged spontaneous interpretive dances, giggles and songs not to mention new insights on cups.

In beauty all day long may I walk.
Through the returning seasons, may I walk.
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With dew about my feet, may I walk.

With beauty before me may I walk.
With beauty behind me may I walk.
With beauty below me may I walk.
With beauty above me may I walk.
With beauty all around me may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, lively may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, living again may I walk.
My words will be beautiful.

from a Navajo blessing

On a morning walk we discussed our favorite summer memories.  I could start with the last day of school and progress from there. For Zoe it was everything about our annual Maine trip.  For our summer projects Zoe and I often indulged in new art supplies including some new scissors.

I borrowed the Mexican cup in the foreground years ago from a friend to use as inspiration for some of my own. It is very low fire red earthenware and more lumpy than my drawing lets on. I am sure it has a lead glaze. When it gets hot and buggy I often find myself thinking about a summer trip to San Blas Mexico when I was in my 20s. We would run through a swamp swatting with bugs away with towels to get to a beach with a palm frond roofed restaurant and a perfect wave that peeled off of a point. The cup must have been made with the reflection of the relaxed heat and the agitation of buzzing mosquitoes.