Sometimes our eyes, hearts, and minds need rest from worlds too much with us, worlds of politics, incompetencies, brutalities, and -isms. We offer this diary, which you can visit once briefly or longer, or revisit many times for respite.
Perhaps the images here, the words here, will return to you in moments when you need them or will inspire you to find your place of or in creation.
Linger with us as you will, and then, if you like, on your way out at the bottommost end, drop a shekel or two in our gratitude jar for Chef Andrés and the World Central Kitchen and their COVID-19 relief work, at the request of the artists and writers and organizers of the KOS Art Expo community.
About a month ago, I invited our artists and poets to submit works with a theme of Works in Progress, and Mike Flinn, Caterina Sims, Marko the Werelynx, composernan, and MEL in PGH have filled our salon walls to my delight and possibly yours.
Step right through our various rooms, we doubt you will lose your way.
.
▄▀▄ ▄▀▄ ▄▀▄
▀▄▀ ▀▄▀ ▀▄▀
2thanks
Title: Plane, Brush, Word
Poet: 2thanks
Media: Words
Contact Information: 2thanks: kosmail or email
Plane, Brush, Word (1)
Can 3 words be a poem?
The title of this diary and poem came to me on awakening about 3 weeks ago. I’d fallen asleep trying to think of a title for this diary that would summarize the theme of this salon. These words did not come to me in a dream; I thought of them as I woke. The poem existed first as a title alone with no other words. And then I thought to explain to our artists and poets the rationale for the title in a message I sent to the group later that day:
Plane, Brush, Word (2)
Plane: The painter's surface, the wood sculptor's tool.
Brush: The painter's tool, the poet's tool.
Word: The poet's output, our artists' words about their art. And artists use words internally to achieve the purpose of their designs.
Now it’s Saturday night, and I’ve already scheduled this diary to post at noon tomorrow. I have a glimmering of ways to expand this poem, but nothing definite yet: A plane is also the planar peering-glass of anyone’s diary-perceiving device, the glass through which everyone will espy these works of art and poetry. And the word “word” could also refer to comments added below. Perhaps commenters will expand the rooms of our salon with observations and questions. Perhaps more art or poetry will arrive. Perhaps we will all meet in that garden of dreams wherein we play and create together. Perhaps I’ll find a way to tuck these thoughts into the poem. No idea now how to do that, though. Maybe an invitation at the end? I am going to have to put this away overnight, and let the flower thought grow of itself. Good night.
Plane, Brush, Word (3)
Plane: The painter's surface, the sculptor's tool, the hand-held screen through which we view this diary and via which poets pen their lines.
Brush: The painter's tool, the poet's tool, a momentary, passing contact.
Word: The poet's pallet, the artists' descriptions of their art and process, the word-lines you will leave below.
And this is where it stands to now, moments before publication. It’s okay to prefer one version over another. When you are inside the picture, it’s hard to see the plane.
.
▄▀▄ ▄▀▄ ▄▀▄
▀▄▀ ▀▄▀ ▀▄▀
Mike Flinn
- Title: Harvest Home (For sale by artist)
- Artist: Mike Flinn
- Media: Oil on canvas, 30” x 40”
- Contact Information: Website, email, kosmail
Mike: For some reason I don’t take many pictures of my work in progress. It’s probably to conceal that I don’t really know what I’m doing and I prefer there be no record of the fact. But I found an interesting batch of images from the period when I was painting “Harvest Home” for a local gallery’s Halloween show. This is the finished painting:
Here is the canvas on the easel on day one:
Now, I wish I had sequential photos of the painting from start to finish but I don’t. I never thought anyone would be interested enough in my funky techniques to inquire. However, there are some interesting examples available of how I was able to produce visual elements that only existed in my unruly imagination. Specifically I’m referring to this area:
I have no trouble coming up with things I’d like to paint but I don’t always know how to go about it. In this case I knew I wanted to have the scythe in the foreground appear as though it were swinging in a wide circle around the wheat sheave. I had a Devil of a time trying to draw what that would look like and I had neither a scythe nor someone willing to wield it so dangerously while I casually sketched the scene. Of course I was able to find lots of images of the kind of scythe I had in mind but none was positioned in quite the way I required. To make a long story shorter, I decided to make a model out of wood - here it is:
Now all I needed was a way to envision the circular swath. I did about 30 of these kinds of test swirls on paper in my garage. Made an oceanic mess:
After a dozen tries I finally joined photos of the model and the swirl in a computer and came up with this composition that I could reference in order to finally “see” the element in the way I’d imagined it originally:
Obsessive? Uh huh. But as an untrained painter with bigger ideas than skills I sometimes find it’s more effective to just do the “real world” work, whatever that entails, and move on. Thanks for taking a look and, as always, all comments and questions are welcome. ~ Mike
.
▄▀▄ ▄▀▄ ▄▀▄
▀▄▀ ▀▄▀ ▀▄▀
Caterina Sims
- Title: Glaucoma Self Portrait
- Artist: Caterina Sims
- Media: Colored pencil, Acrylic on canvas
- Contact Information: kosmail: cmae
Artist’s Comments: I was really wondering how my glaucoma surgery would affect my painting style, in general, so I decided to do a portrait of myself, and document the process. I was very concerned that I wouldn't be able to paint any more, or if I was able to, if my ability would be forever changed or lacking. Looking at these, I guess I will be able to continue, even though my vision in my right eye is terrible: It is like I am looking through 2 inches of Vaseline. It is pretty scary.
I hope you enjoy looking at the different phases the painting went through, it definitely changed a lot. Like I have said before, I just keep working on a painting until I feel it has 'something.' I do try and imbue a painting with feeling, sometimes I am able to do that, I don't know how, I just keep working until I feel it is finished to the best of my ability. I love painting portraits, probably because I have always been interested in psychology. I love painting eyes, I have a thing for beautiful eyes.😊 oh well, I hope you guys enjoy these.
This took about 3 weeks to complete. I had the idea to do a portrait after my glaucoma surgery. I really don't know how I was able to do this at all. My right eye is very messed up. I am still seeing a glaucoma specialist once a month. I was also wondering if my style of painting was actually due to having awful vision. My doctor said I had had glaucoma for years. I am still not sure. I have not been able to have surgery on the other eye yet. I think it is an interesting question. I will continue on, anyway. I have to paint in spurts, my eyes get very tired, I am also still having episodes of extreme eye pain. I just have to wait and see.
.
▄▀▄ ▄▀▄ ▄▀▄
▀▄▀ ▀▄▀ ▀▄▀
Marko the Werelynx
- Title: Průhonice Castle
- Artist: Mark Hirschler
- Media: Watercolor on Bristol (21cm x 30cm)
- Contact Information: kosmail
.
▄▀▄ ▄▀▄ ▄▀▄
▀▄▀ ▀▄▀ ▀▄▀
Composernan
Artist’s Name: Composernan
Title: Summer Monsoon, Santa Fe
Poet: Composernan
Media: Words
Contact Information: kosmail
Poet’s Comments: We lived in Santa Fe, NM for 5 years before my husband’s company transferred us to Florida. “The Land of Enchantment” is an apt description for that state. One doesn’t expect much from a desert landscape, but dotted with mountains and mesas and often, flowering cacti, as well as other flowering plants, it is rife with unexpected beauty.
As morning fades to dusk, the sun creates a continual change of color on the landscape and its rocks. Since writing the poem, “Summer Monsoon,” I probably have revised it around 15 times, first (as a visual thinker), changing images to words, recreating an experience, using similes or metaphors, trying to avoid needless repetition of certain words or phrases, rearranging to highlight the logical progression of the monsoon and its aftermath:
Some people would prefer this shorter version, and that's okay:
First Draft: Summer Monsoon, Santa Fe
Imperious and grey, the sky's a Matriarch today.
Gathering up her bustle -- every streamer, every fold,
she casts a baleful glare and then begins to scold.
Her eye flashes; lightnings flare; the air grows cold.
Her rumbling reprimand chides heat and dust and drought.
Such display of temper may endure -- perhaps five minutes --
or an hour; then, it fades away, a fringe of purple rain
still trembling in the air.
Calmly shaking out her gown in soft clouds made of milk,
unfurling ribboned streams in a silvery swish of silk,
she exits through a door of shining pearl,
revealing shades of rainbow hue; trailing threads of gold.
The most fascinating aspect of rain in Santa Fe was that it was violet or purple, and because of the 7% humidity would often just hang in the air like a lovely curtain. That was the "hook" that started me on the poem, which referenced the sensory aspects of the storm and the appearance of the sky. As time went by, I added a lot more, and changed some phrases around.
Final Version: Summer Monsoon, Santa Fe
Imperious and grey, the sky's a Matriarch today.
Gathering up her bustle -- every streamer, every fold,
she casts a baleful glare and then begins to scold.
In the canales, raindrops rattle like small stones.
Rivulets of water on the redbrick pavers glisten;
the apple tree begins to sway.
A heavy sky makes darkness out of light,
pours its shadow o'er the land. Lightnings flare;
the air grows cold.
The rains descend with thunder, as we listen to the sound
whose rumbling reprimand chides heat and dust and drought.
Our portales cannot shield us from the wind
bending ornamental grasses to the ground.
In this lashing downpour, ranks of fragrant honeysuckle swoon, and fall
atop the cinnamon-adobe wall.
While the Monsoon has her say, such display of temper may endure,
perhaps five minutes -- or an hour; then it fades away . . .
a fringe of purple rain still trembling in the air.
The thirsty land does not complain; it is at peace, refreshed once more.
Unfurling ribboned streams in soft clouds made of milk . . .
calmly shaking out her gown with a silver swish of silk,
without a care, she exits through a door of shining pearl,
revealing shades of rainbow hue; trailing threads of gold.
.
▄▀▄ ▄▀▄ ▄▀▄
▀▄▀ ▀▄▀ ▀▄▀
MEL in PGH
- Title: Glass Bead Bracelets
- Artist: Melissa Melan
- Media: Lampwork glass beads, leather cord, sterling or vermeil accent beads, magnetic clasp
- Contact Information: kosmail or gombessastudio@comcast.net
Artist’s Comments: Possession is Nine Tenths of the Mother of Invention.
Components? I have ‘em … lots of them. Many times the idea for a jewelry piece comes together rapidly, at other times it can take years. I made the glass beads included in these bracelets years ago. I had a lot of lampwork beads but no ideas about what to do with them until I came across the magnetic clasps used here. Then the penny dropped, and I knew exactly what to do. These bracelets and several others like them are available for purchase. Simply contact me via kosmail (MEL in PGH) or at gombessastudio@comcast.net.
.
▄▀▄ ▄▀▄ ▄▀▄
▀▄▀ ▀▄▀ ▀▄▀
As noted far above, members of the KOS Art Expo community ask you to support COVID-19 relief efforts organized by Chef Josè Andrès and his World Central Kitchen. If you care to and if you can, please donate here to this very worthy effort.
If you want to see more of these Daily Kos Art Salons in your Stream (Daily Kos Inbox), please Follow us by clicking the red ❤ or the word Follow here.
Many thanks to the members of the KOS Art Expo community who chose to exhibit today: Mike Flinn, Caterina Sims, Mark Hirschler, composernan, and MEL in PGH.
2thanks, for the KOS Art Expo community
Please tell us which one(s) or which aspect(s) you like, and (maybe) why, or ask a question.