Out with Lanterns

Lanterns, collage on paper 6x6 , Leslie Avon Miller

Perhaps being lost, one should get loster.

~Saul Bellow

Loster in the studio; that’s where I am. And it’s no so bad. I have no idea what I am doing and I don’t know where I am going. I only know I am continuing in a state of curiosity. I try many things and make decisions about what to keep and what to discard. 

I create papers with color and textures which will later be turned into some shapes for collage. I make marks and I follow new pathways.

I have been through most the drawers and other places I have stored papers, collage, and paintings on paper looking at my own artistic history. I am grateful that I have kept some of my earlier works. It seems to me that the ones I have kept are sensitive and perhaps not so easily understood. But to me, they have a beautiful mystery, a certain aesthetic. And I find there is a thread from them to what I am doing now. 

                               

          And I am out with lanterns, looking for myself. 

                                                      ~Emily Dickinson

 

 

My sensibility shows up like my fairy godmother even if I am unaware. Examples can be found by following the link to my tumblr blog in the side bar.

Some fellow named Sir Herbert Reed said that art is pattern informed by sensibility.

As I commence this next phase of my life, likely the final third, I have decided to do so with increased awareness and gratitude in general and with specific appreciation for my own sense of discernment. I feel a tenderness. I am opening. I am opening and turning towards the light. 

Late Ripeness



Not soon, as late as the approach

 of my ninetieth year,

 I felt a door opening in me

 and I entered

 the clarity of early morning.





One after another my former

 lives were departing,

 like ships, together with

 their sorrow.





And the countries, cities, gardens,

 the bays of seas

 assigned to my brush came closer,

 ready now to be described better

 than they were before.



~ Czeslaw Milosz,

The Small Things of Life

Leslie Avon Miller, accordion fold booklet

The small things of life were often so much bigger 

than the great things . . . the trivial pleasures like cooking, 

one's home, little poems especially sad ones, 

solitary walks, 

funny things seen and overheard.

~Barbara Pym

Leslie Avon Miller, paper construction

Small things I like today:

Casual

Twirling

Juicy

Small boxes with lids

The word “evening”

Roots of trees

Soft

The smell of clean 

Leslie Avon Miller, paper construction

 In the studio I now have photography back drops of a variety of neutral colors. They are actually sheets, but they seem to do the trick, as long as I have a lint brush handy. The gray and coffee-with-cream colors seems less harsh than white or black. 

I continue to experiment with water colors, washi papers, various fibers and powdered graphite. 

Leslie Avon Miller, paper construction

If you read and posted a comment on the last post, you will want to know who won the drawing for one of these paper constructions.

Liz Davidson's name was pulled from the basket. A package is on the way to her as we speak.Thank you all for your comments. 

A note about the quote which begins this post. I was not familiar with Barbara Pym, but now that I have read more about her works, I look forward to reading them. You can read more about her books here at a blog called A Fondness for Reading. 

What small pleasing things are on your list?

Following the Lead of Watercolors

Leslie Avon Miller

You are valuable because you exist. 

Not because of what you do or what you have done

 - but simply because you are.

~Max Lucado

Leslie Avon Miller

In a dream this week I made selections. From several choices I had in the dream, I chose a vase, which was old, vintage and, typical of the oddness of dream images, of several styles all at the same time. I knew the vase would fit in with the collection I have inherited from my female ancestors.

Then I selected a mantel clock with a graceful curve of wood and a simple round face. Not too big, not too small, but just right, this clock was designed to sit on the mantel, above a nice warm fire in the heart of the home.

Leslie Avon Miller

A vase; a container of plenty, meant to hold water and beautiful blooms. A clock keeping time, measuring out the days and hours. I choose a container and time.  I think the message is about a life not too full, not too lacking, but just right, here, now in this time. 

Leslie Avon Miller

I acknowledge a sense I have experienced of late that I want to simplify a bit. I want to focus on what is important and to remind myself that there is enough. Enough means I am satisfied, calm and I feel gratitude. My appetite is satiated.

This is not a strongly practiced concept in Western cultures where we experience a lot of messages to have more, do more, earn more, spend more, invest more, be more, compete for the prize more…well you get the point.

  

Leslie Avon Miller

There is enough to go around. There is no competition. There is enough for you and there is enough for me. This concept relaxes me and allows me to be here, at this moment in my life. I like the feeling.

Pausing to deeply enjoy the stars and moon before bed and hearing the bird song in the early morning brings me enjoyment and satisfaction at the beginning and end of the day. It is enough. Life is rich. Life is a miracle. 

A simple life is a treasure.  The lovely and appreciated connections made through the blog world with like minded souls like you are one of my dearest treasures. These experiences are the beautiful blooms I want to place in my container.

 

  

Leslie Avon Miller

Gently following the lead of watercolors in the studio, the placement of a piece of paper just so, and wrapping little bundles just because I am called to do so provides me with contentment in the very moment.

If you would like to receive one of these small paper constructions, you are invited to leave a comment and let me know. I will wait a week and then I will drop your names in a basket and announce the results in my next blog post. I suspect my next post will go up in a week or so. If your email is available via your profile I’ll contact you.

 

giving thanks for the light and beauty

Drink your tea slowly and reverently, 

as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves

 - slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future.

Thich Nhat Hanh

The hummingbirds have returned, with their quick flights, and territorial behaviors. Some Native American’s call them warriors. Hummingbirds were thought to be the sun, courting a beautiful woman, the moon. They are also a symbol of good luck and joy. Off in the woods I hear the quail call for the first time this season. It is fully spring.

A pattern forms, built over time, influenced by dark and light, warmth and cold, proximity and personal preference. Awareness and gratitude play a part.

This weekend is Opening of the Studio.  My studio beckons in the light of the changing season, in the warmth of the space and daylight for the walk back and forth. The sound track in the background is the song of birds in the day and the one billion frogs crocking in a near by pond in the evening. 

I’m a fair weather painter. I create all winter, in a small warm spot near the fire. The studio is welcoming in spring and summer and fall. And so the painting experiments continue. Water colors, papers. Monoprinting. They cover the floor and any flat surface. Each day I pull the dried papers apart to see what has happened.

The gardener called me to the door and said “I’ve found a treasure.” In his hands was a year old nest found in the honeysuckle. 

The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes. 

If you foolishly ignore beauty, you will soon find yourself without it.

 Your life will be impoverished. 

But if you invest in beauty, it will remain with you all the days of your life.

Frank Lloyd Wright

 

I’m drinking tea, making marks and giving thanks for the light and beauty in my life.

 

Patience, grasshopper, patience.

Collage sketch, Leslie Avon Miller

Patience, grasshopper, patience.

That’s my new theme in the studio. Patience. More patience. 

After more then half a year of trying many mediums, my search continues to find something that flows for me. Soy paint? No, no. Pastels? No. Oil pastels? Quick drying oils? Nope, not those either. Eco dyes? Nice, but no. I even tried burying art outdoors in ashes over the winter. 

No, not that either.

Collage Sketch, Leslie Avon Miller

At the same time, I need to make art. I simply must. I indulge myself with small collage in my sketch book. I create slightly larger collage on paper. I mail art. I make new mark making tools. I use my own collage papers, watching my stash dwindle. I use crayons and charcoal and pencils and some inks.

When I experiment with new mediums I can’t find my compositional feet on the ground. I can’t design anything, let alone convey a message of some kind. Its painting, but it must be similar to going from a ballet on two skis to a heavy board strapped to both feet. Nothing feels natural. Nothing is dependable. I have no vocabulary. I can’t think in this medium, let alone speak or write a poem. 

Collage Sketch, Leslie Avon Miller

Patience, little grasshopper, patience.

With my collage sketches, I naturally fall into a river of my personal language of marks, patterns, juxtapositions, white spaces and textures. I can flow with the current. I can speak in my artistic voice. I have a vocabulary. 

These are my Haiku landscapes, my observations of the seasons and my place in the landscape. 

Collage Sketch, Leslie Avon Miller

Throw a pebble into a pond and watch the perfect circles 

form and spread effortlessly. 

Think of your art as that circle – 

a circle of creative energy spiraling out, 

taking in new influences, 

reaching out for new experiences – 

but always coming back to center – 

to you.

~Virginia Cobb