A few weeks back, the weekly photo challenge in Ricky Tims' class was Black and White. We took photos and transformed them to black and white using Lightroom (the same effect can be created in Photoshop). I went out with the intention of taking a photo of some lion statues in downtown Bethesda, MD. Yet again, though, my vision didn't materialize. From every angle, the lions had cluttered backgrounds that I thought would be distracting.
So instead, I took a photo of the ever-patient Q. I liked the way the line of benches stretched into the distance. This photo isn't quite as clean in a black-and-white format, though -- there are a lot of medium values that make the photo look busy, and the dark lines of the window frames pull the eye away from the main subject. I think using a slightly desaturated or tinted version of the photo would probably be more visually compelling
We then walked further into the downtown area and found a nice spot in front of the bookstore. Q offered to be a model, sitting on the sidewalk with a marble block at his back. This pose, particularly in black and white, seems to speak of sadness and hopelessness. (Of course, Q at the time was neither sad nor hopeless -- though holding this position was a bit of a strain after a while.)
Then I was struck by his hands and took some close-up shots. I like this photo best. Hands tell such a powerful story. The sunlight and shadows provide beautiful contrast, further clarified by desaturating the photo.
One of the reasons I like photography is that it allows me to see the world differently. Examining the photos brings out new details and realizations. When I look at this photo, I realize afresh: Q's hands are beautiful.
What makes black and white photos so emotionally evocative? Perhaps it is that removing the color helps us focus on value. Or is it their historical appearance (calling back to the era before color film) that gives them extra weight? As someone who loves color, I am surprisingly moved by black-and-white photos.
In yet another of Ricky Tims' weekly Photo Challenges, we were to take photos that were "tack sharp", meaning that the entire photo was in crisp focus. For an image that involves some depth (with some parts of the image being close and some further away), this typically involves using a high f-stop on the camera. Accompanied by the ever-patient Q, I tramped out in the snow to our local playground to find some shots.
My original vision had been to take a photo of an empty swing, but that didn't work out. First of all, swings move, which makes it very hard to get a crisply focused image. Second, no matter what angle I shot from, there were always distracting elements in the background. So much for my original vision.
But Q suggested taking a photo of this springy duck. The duck is somewhat creepy-looking, but with my shadow cast over it, the expression seems more frightened than menacing. Putting the duck in the left edge of the photo gives room for the implied line-of-sight . . . what is it looking at?
(Did you know that there are quite a few unusual examples of playground equipment out there? A Google search for "creepy playground equipment" brings up a startling array of images, such as these.)
I also took some close-ups of the merry-go-round. I don't think this is "tack sharp", though -- the front seems in focus, but the back is somewhat less sharply focused.
I took some shots of the jungle gym and the steps up to the slide, too, but nothing emerged as a strong composition. Finding good photos can be challenging! After being out in the snow for over an hour, my socks and the knees of my pants were soaked, my feet were cold, and I packed it all in for the day.
Lessons learned: Your original vision may or may not work out; be open to other ideas. And dress for the weather.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am taking Ricky Tims' online Photo Challenge class. Work has been keeping me pretty busy, so I haven't managed to complete all of the weekly challenges. Even so, I have been learning a lot about photography and composition. One of the weekly challenges involved finding a line. I wandered around my father's house one Sunday afternoon, taking photos that explored line. (You can click on the photos to enlarge them.)
This is a close-up of an African mask (the twigs create the hair & beard on the face). I liked this photo best -- the lines have a lot of wonderful movement.
This is a close-up of a spinning wheel made by paternal grandfather's grandfather (my great-great grandfather). This is the photo I submitted for the challenge, as line is the dominant feature, though I'm not completely happy with it. While the composition is simple and clean, I don't find it that interesting.
This is a glass art vase. Here I was exploring the idea of an edge as a line, though I think the colored shapes on the vase draw the eye more than the edge of the vase. I love the beautiful color and sheen of the glass.
Again, I was looking at edges in terms of line, as well as the lines on the mask itself. I like the composition and the way it frames the eyes and motifs on the mask. Again, though, the composition seems less about line and more about shape, so it didn't seem to fit the challenge. I think I could have gotten the focus a bit crisper, as well. I have a lot to learn about working with my new camera. My previous camera was a superzoom, but this class required a DSLR camera; I'm still figuring out how it works.
This approach to photography is quite different from what I have done before. Typically I take photos of things that interest me (such as vacation shots) -- I try to do a good job with composition and quality of the photo, but my motivation is to capture an experience or record something for future memory. The photo challenges require that I go out to look for images to shoot that fit the challenge theme. I'm finding that somewhat difficult -- it's hard to find inspiration at times. I'm hoping that I'll get more ideas for photos as I go along. I think the class will help me train my eye to look for interesting compositions.
I love to learn new things. In fact, I positively deliciate in learning.
* Deliciate = to enjoy or indulge oneself, luxuriate, revel, to take one's pleasure.
Did you feel a little zing as you learned that word? A recent study found that learning new words stimulates the ventral striatum, the part of the brain that is associated with reward and pleasure. In other words, learning a new word seems to activate the same part of the brain as gambling, sex, and tasty food. (One could say that this means you probably deliciate in learning the word "deliciate.")
I suspect that this is not just limited to learning new words, but is true of learning more generally. There is pleasure in acquiring knowledge and mastering new skills. One recent study of elementary school children found that:
joy arrives when the child surmounts a series of difficulties to achieve a goal. One of the authors’ videos shows seven-year-old Esko, tapping himself proudly on the chest and announcing, “Hey, I figured out how to do math!” A desire to master the material leads to more joy than a desire to simply perform well, Rantala and Määttä add: joy often accompanies “the feeling of shining as an expert.” (from http://www.creativitypost.com/education/wheres_the_joy_in_learning)
Sadly, I think we often lose sight of the joy of learning. I remember one student in my General Psychology class some years ago who insisted that there was nothing he wanted to learn -- nothing at all. It made me unutterably sad. Learning can be a wonderful experience, and yet many of us forget its pleasures, thinking of it only as joyless labor.
I am fortunate to work in a profession that is committed to lifelong learning. Higher education is not only in the business of providing access to learning for our students, but also recognizes the importance of ongoing learning for faculty and staff. For example, I was able to spend last year on sabbatical so that I could learn more about the flipped classroom approach and the science of teaching and learning.
But you don't need to be an academic or take a sabbatical to experience the joys of learning. Want to learn something new? Here are some suggestions.
I've been reading for as long as I can remember.
Books are the bees which carry the quickening pollen from one to another mind. ~James Russell Lowell
Read. I read voraciously, learning from science writers, biographers and scholars of all types. I find new ideas in speculative fiction and memoir. I read online articles, physical books and magazines, and enjoy the occasional audiobook. Reading is accessible in any number of formats, and can be enjoyed without cost through libraries and the internet. If you are a bibliophile, definitely head over to Brain Pickings, one of my favorite blog finds this year.
Baining Night Dance Mask (Kavat)
made of bark cloth by the Central Baining people
from Papua New Guinea, New Britain
(from the Metropolitain Museum of Art, NYC)
The art and science of asking questions is the source of all knowledge. ~Thomas Berger
Ask questions. Opportunities for learning are everywhere for those who are curious about the world. When we ask questions, we open ourselves to new learning. Ask questions of your friends and family to learn more about their lives and experiences. Ask questions of experts to learn from their expertise. Ask questions of yourself to learn more about your inner world. If you can't find someone to answer your questions, go find the answer yourself! (I'm still working on finding out more about the art of Papua New Guinea, for example.)
We all have an Elephant's Child, full of insatiable curiosity.
Drawing by Kate Reed (used with permission of the artist)
Research. When you find a topic that interests you, pursue your curiosity. Explore it in depth. Follow links, look for additional readings, ask questions and find answers. Become an expert. I spend many hours researching to prepare for my presentations and it has led me to all kinds of interesting learning -- from the science of happiness to successful relationships to all corners of human sexuality (check out my posts on sexual language, the sexual double standard, and same-sex marriage, for example).
Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden in Vancouver (2012),
where I learned about traditional Chinese garden design
All the world is a laboratory to the inquiring mind.~ Martin H. Fischer
Travel. Travel offers us the opportunity to learn more about history, architecture, art, science, language and culture. Explore the environment and notice what is different. Talk to the people who live there. Try new foods and have new experiences. Read guidebooks to find out more about the places you visit. Go to the local sights and visit the museums. I always learn a lot from traveling, as you can tell from my extensive travelogues (such as my blog posts on Krakow, Prague, and Iceland).
Listen to podcasts. There are so many great podcasts out there -- free and full of learning potential. I listen to podcasts on long drives and while I'm cooking or filing. Podcasts like This American Life, Radiolab, Invisibilia, and The TED Radio Hour have given me insight into all kinds of topics I knew little about. I'm looking forward to getting into Hidden Brain, as soon as I have some time, as I have really enjoyed Shankar Vedantam's pieces on NPR.
Watch documentaries. No matter where your interests lie, there is sure to be a documentary for you.I favor historical and cultural documentaries, and I'm always finding new ones to watch through Netflix. (I haven't even finished all of Ken Burns' documentaries yet!) Make sure it is a reputable source, of course -- not all of the "documentaries" on YouTube are accurate. So check out your PBS station or other credible media sources. Beyond documentaries, you can also watch educational videos at TED-Ed and learner.org.
I learn from my students, too.
(Photo by Sanjay Suchak)
Take a class. This gives you a chance to do more in-depth learning and connect with other learners.Classes are available everywhere -- the local recreation center, community college, art/dance/writing centers, and other community resources. Check out retail outlets, too, as you can find cooking classes at your local kitchen store, jewelry classes at the bead store, and ceramics classes at the art store. If your local area doesn't have the class you want, there are plenty of online classes; you can study with experts all over the world without ever leaving your home. I generally prefer face-to-face classes (such as the television/video classes I took last year), but I've also enjoyed several Craftsy classes and I'm looking forward to an online photography class with Ricky Tims that starts in January.
Get private lessons. If you know what you want to learn and can find someone to teach you, you might want to invest in private lessons. These can be a bit more expensive than classes, but you get to focus on what you want to learn at your own pace and in your own time. If you have a local expert, face-to-face lessons are a great option, but you could also consider distance learning via video calls (Skype, Google Hangout, etc.). Over the last year, I've been studying pattern fitting with the fabulous Sarah Veblen, and watching her figure out the right shape for a sleeve or rotating a dart has definitely expanded my understanding of how to engineer clothing that fits well (though I still have much to learn).
Try something new. We often think of learning only within formal contexts, but we can learn anytime and anywhere. Walk a different route and take note of what you see and hear. Use a recipe you've never made before or tweak an old recipe -- what worked well and what didn't? Explore unfamiliar types of music, art, performance, or athletics. Try something new and see where it takes you.
Start off your year by rediscovering the joy of learning. You know that learning is good for you -- it keeps your mind engaged and helps you grow and develop your capabilities. But don't forget that it is also pleasurable. So go ahead and deliciate in learning. I'll be deliciating, right along with you.
After many hours of driving from Landmannalaugar, we finally arrived at our lodging in Borgarnes (past their check-in time, but thankfully, they were willing to stay open for us). As we unloaded our luggage, we were greeted by a Very Friendly Dog. While we were never introduced, the dog clearly loved people and wanted to play. At one point, Q said "I wish I had a stick to throw for you." The Very Friendly Dog perked up its ears, as if to say "Stick? I have a stick! Wait -- I'll go get my stick!"
The Very Friendly Dog then proceeded to teach Q how to play Stick. They had a great time playing in the meadow.
Who can resist that sweet face? The Very Friendly Dog was just one of many creatures we encountered during our travels in Iceland.
As we left the following morning, we spotted Icelandic horses in the field next to the inn. We saw lots of horses as we drove through Iceland, particularly in West Iceland. Horseback riding is an activity enjoyed by Icelanders and tourists (we didn't do any riding, but we enjoyed seeing the horses).
Icelandic horses in West Iceland
Icelandic horses are a unique breed. They are relatively small in stature and are adapted to the harsh climate with a double coat to protect against cold temperatures. They are the descendants of the horses brought to Iceland by the original Scandanavian and Norse settlers. Horses were the only means of transport for many hundreds of years in Iceland.
Icelandic horses in West Iceland
Icelandic horses have a wide range of coloration. Because livestock cannot be imported into Iceland, the horses are protected from most diseases and parasites. Icelandic horses, if they leave the country, cannot return.
Icelandic horses in West Iceland
Icelandic horses have two additional gaits, beyond those of other horse breeds. In addition to walk, trot, canter, gallop, they are capable of a lateral, ambling gait called a tölt, and a fast, smooth skeið gait (or "flying pace").
The most ubiquitous animal we saw, though, was sheep. They were scattered across the landscape, so commonplace that we noted their absence more than their presence. We started taking bets on how long it would be before we saw another one. We announced their presence by calling out, "Sheeeeep! SHEEEEEEEP!" to each other. Some parts of Iceland have more sheep than people (a pattern we noted in the West Highlands of Scotland, as well). Anywhere that had even the barest hint of greenery seemed to sport sheep. They slept by the side of the road. They wandered out into the roadway (another excellent reason to observe the speed limits in Iceland). Sometimes, they ran at the sound of the car or stared at us as we passed by.
But mostly, they just ignored us and went about their sheep-y business.
I got this tiny felted sheep (made by Steinunni Steinars) at the Borgarnes' farmers market. Isn't it adorable? It sits on the kitchen windowsill, along with the wooden sword swallower and pig that were my mother's, so that I can see them every day as I wash dishes. And whenever I see it, I can call out:
(Just as a heads-up -- this post includes a discussion of phalluses, as well as some pictures of preserved animal phalluses. And ancient books. And political art. There is also mention of food and a spa.)
but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”
-- Maya Angelou
The butterfly is a symbol of transformation, even of spiritual rebirth. We can start as a lowly, unassuming caterpillar but emerge from the chrysalis as a beautiful, winged creature. But what happens in between? It turns out that we don't entirely know. And maybe we don't really want to know. Because what happens in the chrysalis is that the caterpillar turns into goo. Yes. Soupy goo. And while that is really intriguing, from a scientific standpoint (Wow! How does that goo become a butterfly?), it is kind of, well, unappealing.
That's the problem. We love to see the transformation, to celebrate the amazing potential for change, but we don't want to know the process, particularly if it shatters our illusions. Millions of people watch the The Biggest Loser for its displays of dramatic weight loss, but I'm betting that fans would probably rather not be confronted with the show's brutal treatment of contestants. We'd rather just applaud the transformation from fat to thin than be confronted with the realities of what that entails. Shape magazine, for example, features "success stories" of weight loss, but refused to include a photo of one woman in a bikini, presumably because her belly skin showed the aftereffects of extreme weight loss. They'd rather hide that part of her story, to present an idealized version of her weight loss. We'd rather imagine that the transformation from obese to skinny is flawless and simple -- a modest effort of diet and exercise, and the perfect trim body is revealed! But it's not true. Radical transformation is often grueling, and it leaves its mark.
When we focus solely on the before-and-after, ignoring the process of transformation, we create a fantasy that change is easy to achieve. This creates false hope . . . and crushing disappointment for those who expect to transform seamlessly and effortlessly.
We'd rather believe that someone is a "natural beauty" than acknowledge the time and money and pain that is often involved in achieving cultural beauty standards. Historically, women have been encouraged to endure dangerous, costly, and time-consuming procedures to become beautiful, but then also to pretend that they look this way naturally. Don't admit to coloring your hair or getting cosmetic surgery. Don't complain about the pain of high-heeled shoes or bikini waxing. Don't acknowledge the hours of effort that went into your hair and makeup and clothing. Oh, I just rolled out of bed looking like this. We demand not only that women transform to be beautiful but also that they then lie about it.
When I discuss social change movements with my students, they are often unaware of the long-term, difficult struggles that were necessary to enact change. My students will say that the United States government "gave women the right to vote," rather than acknowledging the decades of struggle by committed suffragists who marched, were harassed and arrested, facing harsh treatment in prison. Women like Alice Paul, who went on a hunger strike in jail and was painfully and dangerously force fed, are simply erased in the narrative that the government somehow spontaneously recognized the error of excluding women from equality under the law. Change is difficult. The process of social change can be ugly and brutal. But to ignore the realities of history is to deny the work and suffering of those who fought for social justice.
Life is not a series of static before-and-after photos. Life is a process of change and development. Let science and history and psychology reveal to us the real truth of change, in all its complexity, both beautiful and ugly. I want to know the changes the butterfly went through. I think we all need to know.
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Notes on making these pieces:
I started with the quote and a photograph of an Owl butterfly I took when we visited the Butterfly Conservatory at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. The quote was an obvious fit with the photo, so that part was easy. I did a bit of clean-up of the photo in Photoshop (cropping, fixing contrast, and using the filmgrain filter, which brightened the greens and made the colors pop more). The photo and the quotation were printed on my Epson C88+ printer, using pre-treated fabric sheets.
I got three of the pieces started, but not finished, before my studio renovation, so they sat in limbo for about two years. I have been eager to get back to these and finish them, but then had a bit of trouble getting started sewing after such a long hiatus. So they have had a long mellowing process. *grin*
(Note that you can click on the photos to enlarge them.)
Beauty of the Butterfly #1 (approx 5.9 x 8")
I started with this piece, which includes improvisational crazy piecing and raw-edge applique (using fusible web) onto a base of Timtex stabilizer (which was the base used for all the pieces). I did some hand-embroidery to frame the appliqued fabrics, including back stitch (which I haven't done in a while) and french knots. As with all the pieces, the quotation was fused and then edge-stitched using decorative machine stitching, backing fabric was added, and the entire piece was machine edged with a zig-zag stitch.
Beauty of the Butterfly #2 (approx 5.75 x 8")
For this piece and the next one, I explored sliced strata: sewing strips of fabric together to create a striped unit, which is then cut at various angles and sewn back together with additional fabric strips as inserts. I was inspired by Rayna Gillman's work (although only in general approach -- the final pieces don't look like her work at all). I added machine stitching (with metallic thread) and some hand embroidery (using ArtFabrik's hand-dyed thread).
Beauty of the Butterfly #3 (approx 8.38 x 6.25")
This piece used the sliced strata, but with a a portrait orientation to emphasize the verticality of the insert strips (well, diagonality, I guess, since they aren't truly vertical). I also mounted the butterfly photo on a separate piece of Timtex, added fabric binding, and then sewed it down to the main piece. I wanted to try framing the photo separately as its own piece, rather than embedding it within the larger piece.
This separateness was enhanced by bead embellishment -- I created a picot edge using gold beads around the "framed" photo, and added seed beads, bugle beads, and glass leaf beads on the surface of the "frame." Doing the edging proved more difficult than I expected because I did the beading after the photo was sewn down to the main piece. Hand sewing through two layers of Timtex and four layers of fabric was challenging (I broke one needle and bent another), and I had to bring up the needle at an angle to get to the edge. Next time, I might do some of the beading before mounting the piece (although it can be hard to machine stitch without hitting the beads). I also found carrying the edging around the corners challenging (this was my first attempt at a picot edge) -- I might explore other options for the corner treatment in future pieces.
The beading around the photo needed to be carried into the larger piece, as well, so I included some seed beads on the strata. I like the dimensionality that was created through the separate photo framing and bead embellishment.
Beauty of the Butterfly #4 (approx 6.15 x 8.25")
Here I went back to improvisational crazy piecing, but using the leftover strata pieces and trying to create greater value contrast with the bright green insert strips. The fabric pieces crossed over the photograph to connect with the diagonal lines of the grass in the photo. Unfortunately, that also cut off part of the butterfly wing. So I printed out the butterfly photo on organza and fused the organza butterfly over the photo. It creates an interesting effect -- the photo is a bit blurry, but also has more depth. (The artist Wen Redmond uses organza to enhance photos on fabric, which gave me the idea.) I added machine stitching and hand embroidery (seed stitch and french knots, using ArtFabrik's hand-dyed thread).
Beauty of the Butterfly #5 (approx. 6.5 x 8.25")
For the last piece, I wanted to go in a different direction, so I created a landscape -- or really, a grass-scape, I guess. I was inspired by Laura Wasilowski's Craftsy class on fused collage landscapes (although I didn't strictly follow her process, nor does the piece look like her work). I used hand-dyed fabric from Cherrywood -- my first time using their fabric, but certainly not the last. I love the rich color and depth of their fabrics. After prepping the fabric with fusible web, I cut out grassy shapes freehand and layered the pieces to create a field of different green grasses. I used a gray for the sky to blend in with the photo background, and fused a cloud shape from the gray fabric and one from the organza photos I had printed to create a cloud-shadow. Then I did lots of machine stitching -- I edged the cloud shapes and did lots of "grass-stitching" in the green shapes to create texture. I really like how it came out!
If you would like to be eligible for this week's Inspirations giveaway (for the card pictured at the top -- Beauty of the Butterfly #2), just leave a comment on this post by Sept. 6, 2015. Be sure that I have your email address so that I can notify you if you are the winner. I'll do a random draw and announce the winner during the following week.
On our fifth day in Prague, we walked to Petřín Hill, a large public
park. On our way, we looked in at the Lego Museum. While we didn't
actually go in to see the museum exhibits, we ogled the Lego kits in the
shop and admired this mural, made entirely of Legos.
View from the Legion Bridge (Most Legií) over the Vlatava River
On our way to Petřín Hill, we crossed over the river via the Legion
Bridge, which was virtually empty of pedestrians (compared to the crush
of the Charles Bridge). This photo is looking toward the Charles
Bridge. You can see beautiful pictures of the Legion Bridge here.
After spending the morning at the Mucha museum, we walked around Wenceslas Square in New Town (Nové Město). Wenceslas Square was the
site of the 1989 Velvet Revolution demonstrations and the announcement
of the fall of communism in what was then Czechoslovakia. The square is
now a testament to capitalism, with loads of shopping and eateries, but
also has some interesting architecture and public art.
We often enjoy quirky, off-beat museums, so we made time to visit two
museums listed as part of "Eccentric Prague" in one of our guide books:
The Museum of Torture Instruments and the Sex Machine Museum. I didn't
take pictures at the torture museum -- not only was the content
disturbing, but I wasn't sure about the historical accuracy of the signage or the provenance of the actual implements being shown.
But I did take photos at the Sex Machines Museum -- after all, being a
sex educator, this is work related for me. (Does this make my whole
trip a tax write-off?) This is the third sex-related museum we've been
to -- we've seen the Museum of Sex in NYC and the Erotic Museum of Barcelona. The Sex Machine Museum in Prague was good, although I would
have liked more detailed signage to provide context for the items shown.
The museum exhibits included a variety of sex aids, including some
elaborate mechanical sexual furniture, as well as anti-masturbation
machines and clothing, chastity belts, and BDSM equipment and
accessories.
[Note: If
you are offended by frank discussions or depictions of sexuality, you may not wish to read
further.]
Just a few blocks from our hotel is the grand Municipal House, one of the finest examples of Prague Art
Nouveau. It was built on the site of the former royal palace in the
early 20th century and a number of artists contributed to its design and
decoration, including Alfons Mucha. It currently houses civic
functions, a ballroom and the Smetana concert hall.
We were only able to look at the public areas of the
building, as we couldn't make it to one of the daily tours, so we didn't
see the paintings by Mucha in Mayor Hall. But we did spend a solid
morning at the Mucha museum a couple of blocks away, poring over his
posters, paintings, and sketches, as well as watching a film about his
life. He is often best remembered for the work he did in Paris, so I
did not know how much he worked for the creation of an independent state
and recognition of the history and culture of those in Czechoslovakia.
He was pleased to provide his work to a number of buildings in Prague
and he spent years finishing his Slav Epic. He was among the first to be arrested by the
Nazis after they invaded and it broke his health, as he died shortly
after being released.
Municipal House (Obecní dům)
There was beautiful metal work in the outdoor railings as well as
around the elevator in the lobby. I'm sparing you the photos of the
elevator grille I took. Seriously, though, would one ever get tired of
this beauty?
Our first night in Prague, we had dinner at Lokál, a restaurant/beer hall which
features Czech cuisine. It was very loud and a bit smoky (even in the
non-smoking section), but the food was tasty. The table next to ours
was celebrating some special occasion, perhaps a birthday, as they
brought a cake as well as ordering lots of beer. Sadly, they didn't
offer us any cake.
I liked the designs scratched into the
wood paneling (lit from behind, they glowed). We decided this might
count as an example of sgraffito (a Renaissance technique of creating
designs by scratching into a surface to reveal a different color or tone
underneath). Both Q and I remember doing crayon sgraffito as children; I put down colored crayon markings and then covered the entire page with black crayon (a tedious process that kept me occupied for some time -- looking back, I can see why my mother encouraged this activity). Then I used a pin to scratch through the black crayon, revealing the colored crayon underneath. Sgraffito! (I wonder, would reverse appliqué be a kind of textile sgraffito?)
Church of Our Lady Before Týn
After our dinner, we wandered around the Old Town (Staré město) area,
walking by In Utero, a large sculpture of a pregnant woman, one of the
many David Černý sculptures in and around Prague.
We found our way to the Old Town Square (Staroměstské náměstí), which
has been Prague's main public square since the 10th century. We walked
through the square virtually every day we were in Prague, and it was
always full of people. We saw a variety of musicians as well as some
dancer/contortionists, in and amongst the throngs of tourists. That
first night we were treated to a women's chorus (which brought back fond
memories of when I sang with the Anna Crusis Women's Choir), although I have no idea what
the women were singing, as it was (presumably) in Czech.
The Church of Our Lady Before Týn, with its Gothic spires, was not only dramatic at night and
beautiful inside by day (no photos allowed, alas), but it also provided a
terrific landmark to orient us as we walked around Old Town. The
church was built in the 15th century. The interior is Baroque in style
and contains the tomb of Tycho Brache, the famous Danish astronomer who
died of a burst bladder, being too polite to leave the royal table to
relieve himself. Let that be a lesson to you.
The foyer in the Art Deco Imperial Hotel (Photo by Q)
Our hotel in Prague was absolutely beautiful. The Art Deco Imperial
Hotel was built in 1914, and combines the architectural styles of Art Deco,
cubism and Art Nouveau. The hotel interior is full of gorgeous tile
work, such as this bas-relief in the foyer that reflects Egyptian
motifs. The building is listed as a Czech National Monument.
Sculpture in the Chapel of St. Kinga in the Wieliczka Salt Mine
After exploring Old Town in Kraków, we took a bus trip out to see the Wieliczka Salt Mine. The Wieliczka Salt Mine has been in operation from the 13th century
(although at this point there is no salt being mined; miners work to
maintain the structures of the mine). Legend has it that the salt in
the mine was the dowry of Princess Kinga, who became the patron saint of
salt miners. The mine is enormous --
300 km over 9 levels (but the tours only include the upper three
levels). The tour includes displays of how salt was mined as well as
the amazing sculptures created from salt by the miners.
The
mine contains a number of chapels, but the St. Kinga chapel is the most
impressive. It is a huge chamber, full of detailed sculptures and
bas-reliefs made from rock salt (including a replica of The Last Supper
and a statue of Pope John Paul II). The sculptures in this chapel were
made over the course of 30 years by just a few of the miners in their
spare time. The artistry is exquisite. You can see more of the
sculptures here.
Thanks to all who visited and commented. It was very inspiring to read your comments! I'll post another Inspirations set at the end of the month, so be sure to check back for another chance to win.
I'm beginning a new series of small textile pieces that will incorporate quotations and images that reflect some aspect of the quotation -- I'm calling it my Inspirations series. I'm inspired by this new series, and I hope that the pieces inspire others as well. My plan is to make multiple versions of each piece, to explore different design variations. I think this will work well for me, as it allows me to combine the thoughtful exploration of ideas as well as experiment with design and embellishment. Plus, I'll build up a body of small works, which I am currently lacking.
Oh, and did I mention the giveaway part? I'll choose one version of each piece to give away to my blog readers (that's you!). I hope to complete a new set of pieces every month. So come back regularly to catch the giveaways! (Remember that you can sign up through a blog reader or get new posts by email -- see the links on the sidebar.)
"Art is not meant to be merely decorative or beautiful; instead, it can be a question, an argument, a proposal, a resolution." -- Hye Yeon Nam
Last weekend, I took some of my Psychology of Women students to see Portraiture Now: Asian American Portraits of Encounter at the National Portrait Gallery. It was an interesting and thought-provoking exhibit and we had a number of conversations about the potential meanings of the various works. We were often left with many unanswered questions. I was particularly struck by a four-part video self-portrait by Hye Yeon Nam, Walking, Eating, Drinking, and Sitting. We stayed for some time in front of these pieces, talking about what we noticed, what feelings they evoked, and what they might mean.
f you haven't yet gotten to see the Hyperbolic Crochet Coral Reef, you should definitely make time to see it. It's an amazing installation, merging textiles, traditionally female handicraft, environmentalism, and mathematics. I also love the way the artists invited members of each community to contribute to the project. Margaret Wertheim describes he project in this TED talk:
"The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love colour the most." -- John Ruskin
As I've mentioned before (here and here), I love color. I am drawn to bright, deep colors, compelled by them. Walking through the drugstore, my eye would be caught by the luscious metallic colors in the nail polish aisle. The fact that I hardly ever wore nail polish seemed immaterial -- how could that compete with these gorgeous shiny bottles? I finally bowed to the inevitable and gave them all away last year and have resisted buying more (thus far).
Recently I've been getting my color fix through fabric. I love making burp cloths, for example, because I get to put together bright flannels and chenille with contrasting colors of thread for the serged edging. Having the fabrics run under my fingers makes my soul sing.
I also had fun choosing fabrics to make linen dinner napkins. Who needs boring, white napkins when you can have every color of the rainbow at your table?
And, of course, my fiber fantasy scarves are full of color and texture and sparkle -- what a joy to put so many different colors together. It's like creating a symphony; each color has to live in harmony with the rest. You can see pictures of my first fiber fantasy scarf here, and pictures of my fringe madness scarf here (check out the riotous color). I'm working on a scarf now in blues and greens, turquoise and teal (oooh, love that combo); I'll post pictures soon. I also made one in earthtones with copper accents and a bit of red for zing:
And, of course, colorful flowers are always a delight. In the midst of winter, my Christmas Cactus offers a profusion of bright pink petals that look ready to take flight.
November, 2009
And one can find cut flowers and bouquets everywhere.
From a bouquet we sent to my grandmother for her last birthday (November, 2010)
Blue roses (on display at Cedar Ridge for their gala event, November 2010)
Isn't this bouquet from my father and his wife lovely? (November, 2010
Now that spring is here, brightly blooming flowers are popping up in my garden; Q says they are like fireworks, exploding into full bloom one after another.
I want to live a life infused with color. Why shouldn't we be surrounded by gorgeous color in everything we do? I believe that everyday items should be beautiful, so that we can have joy in our daily activities. My philosophy is similar to that of the Art Nouveau movement, which held that art should be a part of everyday life. Of course, napkins and burp cloths and flowers are not art, but they remind us that the elements of art (color, design, value, meaning) can be found all around us and that our environment impacts our experience. We should design all aspects of our environment purposefully to enhance the quality of our lives. For me, that means a life rich with color.
"The whole world, as we experience it visually, comes to us through the mystic realm of color." --- Hans Hofmann
"Color possesses me. I don't have to pursue it. It will possess me always, I know it. That is the making of this happy hour: Color and I are one. I am a painter." --- Paul Klee
"Colour is my day-long obsession, joy and torment." -- Claude Monet
If you need a burst of color in your life, check out the items for sale in my Etsy shop.
