Painting Negative Space in Watercolor....

"I went to the woods because
 I wished to live deliberately, 
to front only the essential facts of life, 
and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, 
and not, when I came to die, 
discover that I had not lived."

-Gustav Klimt 

I have been working on exercises in negative space painting.

 Negative painting trains the brain to see and appreciate the beauty surrounding physical objects by painting the "space" around objects rather than the object itself.

It  is  a very useful and purposeful exercise.

Forests are a perfect study for negative painting.
The spacial relationships between the trees can be quite beautiful.

One worth taking the time not just to notice, but to contemplate,
to study.

I've heard artists refer to this relationship  as "syncopation."  I can see why.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life,  and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die,  discover that I had not lived.

How beautiful these words are.

Time to Breathe....

Time to Play...

 

Time to just ... Be.

Note To Self...

Four Generations of Mothers.

Five Generations of Haas Women....

Great Grandma Mary Melinda (with her daughter, my Grandmother Wanda Matilda)
(early 1900's?)

 My Gram (and her daughter, my Mother, Mary Ann)

1937(ish)

Gram, My Mom &Tarzan, who was killed in action as a War Hero

1940(ish)

My Mom & I

(1960)

My Daughter, Sabrina and I
(4/2013)

Dear Mom,

I know I've told you this a million times - but my kids are so fortunate I had you for a mother. 

I know you doubted yourself - you had no idea how perfect you were (are,) in my eyes. I so looked up to you.

As a mom, you were the most amazing teacher.  

You taught me when to go easy, but when to be firm. 

When to scold, but when to laugh.

When to help, and when to step back. 

You bestowed upon me patience, virtue, kindness and nurturing - all by your loving example.

It is my deepest wish that my life and the way I raise my children - and one day the way they will raise theirs - honors you and all you have done for our family.  I can only hope that I have sufficiently taught them -- the valuable lessons in life and love that you have taught me. And that I have instilled in them - the wisdom, patience and kindness that you have instilled in me. I do try.  But I know - I do not hold a candle to you.  For you truly were the most decent, kind and honest person - I have ever known.
 I have so much to work on.  I will keep trying. Trying to be more like you.

I love you Mom - we all love you. 

But I love you most -- for all that you have

 been and all that you continue to be -- in me,

and one day, will be....

in them.

Not a Day Goes By...
That I Don't Think of You.

Happy Mother's Day Mom.

I Love and Miss You So.

Hatteras...

See you in a few.

Painting, Playing, Stitching, Digging and Planting...

 So much to see and do this time of year.

Everything is so green, so fresh, so new.  Color comes FAST to North Carolina.

Went on a road trip up to Tennessee this past week.  It rained almost the entire time, but that's ok, as in between drops of rain we were able to explore and enjoy the amazing grace and beauty of a place near and dear to my family (my Dad's heritage),  my childhood and my heart. I will be returning soon to Tennessee.

Been playing with transparency in textiles and watercolors.

Enjoying my time both IN 

and OUT of the studio

There just aren't enough hours in the day.  

A Little Needle Book...

has been a recent focus over the past month or so. I had  a nice little piece cotton that I batik waxed and dyed  over the summer that I have been coveting and have finally put to use.





I layered it over  a piece of hand dyed and frayed indigo - using that double layer for the cover.

For the needle pages, I used some beautiful boiled teal and dusty blue wool.  Inside the front cover is a little pocket with a ceramic blue button.  The pocket will hold my small scissors.

The cover button is some kind of stone. I found it when I was visiting Asheville for a workshop a few months ago.  It is really beautiful with all of its imperfections.

In contemplating personal symbols for Jude's workshop, I realize that leaves hold a deep personal meaning for me.  They are in all of my work.  Even here.

I don't very often make things for myself, but I do just love this.
Final thought: Early this morning while I was outside quietly taking in the beauty accompanying the emergence of Spring - Gizmo was basking in the early morning sun and rolling in the dew.

A glorious day in North Carolina.

A Slow Cloth....

......of personal symbols is what I have been working on in Jude Hill's Whispering White workshop.

A discussion has been ongoing about the character and meaning of white and how personal that can be. As a girl growing up in Ohio with parents of a country upbringing and European roots, white cloth had significant meaning and place in my family - and really, still does.

I have quite a collection of natural bleached and bleached cloth -  from which I tore up some strips and created a woven base.  I have decided for my first cloth, I would explore the use of personal symbols.  Something I've been thinking about lately,  

So for now, I will play with this idea of personal symbols, sketching some things out, maybe cutting out some shapes, stitching them out, and then making the decision as to whether I will keep this woven base as one unit - or, in the alternative, cutting it up into six or nine pieces, and layering the individual sections on to frayed pieces of light linen or lawn cloth and work on them as individual units.  

Something to consider.

Enough about white.

Let's go get dirty!

What Happens....

when you steal the color away....

from a cloth...

from the sky...

from a flower...

from the sea...  ?

Are they still beautiful? 

Whispering White...

In contemplating the recent Spirit Cloth workshop I am participating in (What If Diaries) which is going to begin with  "whispering white,"   while gathering my white linens and cloths, I  reflect upon one of my favorite poems for inspiration:

"There is Nothing in the World more Beautiful...

... than the forest clothed to its  very hollows in snow. 

It is the still  ecstasy of nature, wherein every spray, 

 every blade of grass, every spire of  reed, 

every intricacy of twig, 

is clad  with radiance.”  

                                                                                        William Sharp -  Scottish Poet
                                                                                                      1855-1905

Whispering white.  Whispering white. Whispering white.
Yes.  Whispering white.
How lovely.

Mending My Ways....

Some things are just worth saving - like a 20 year old pair of jeans. A little worse for the wear - but not beyond hope.

A little creative mending with a treasured piece of avocado died silk noille and space dyed floss.

Like one of my favorite Bon Jovi songs, these jeans -

they're "not old.... just older."

New Jersey.....

Emerald Bridge... gray sky. Tuesday.

\

Emerald Bridge... blue sky. Wednesday.

Ahhhh. New Jersey.  

WHAT is it about those Jersey boys that 

makes my heart skip a beat?

It was fun.

In progress....

What the (s)hell?

Gizmo is a shell hunter.

Has an amazing nose for shells.

If they are there - HE will find them.

THIS GUY can sniff out shells
a mile away.  Especially if they
have critters in them.

(Inhabited shells -  we gently placed  back into the sea,
along with a wish for their longevity.)

All these were found within about an hour
on Corolla at the Outer Banks.

Job well done!