Studio re-do

The original studio, now intended as a design/business-focused office, being reassembled.

Like a glacier, I've slowly been creeping into adjacent spaces at home to expand the studio... it now includes all the original studio space (that I used to share with my husband), plus the family room, and extends to the back porch on especially nice days! The two adjoining rooms had never had the same paint or carpet colors so this fall I had the entire space re-carpeted with industrial gray and painted an art-friendly white. What a huge difference. While this project was going on, all the studio furniture and art-making gear was moved and somehow compressed, stacked floor to ceiling, into our dining room.All this upheaval gave me the opportunity to get rid of things that weren't serving me well, re-integrate items that had returned from my previous out-of-house studio, and re-think how I store the somewhat shocking amounts of paper that I like to have on hand.I've slowly been moving things back into the studio space and am now almost finished, with my deadline being asap, so that we can dine without debris for Thanksgiving!Switching up the way I'd previously used the rooms, plus a new furniture arrangement seems more efficient and allows the luxury of being able to get farther away from my work for the long-view perspective. I'll post some final photos/video soon. Unseen in these photos, right now the detached brick garage outside the windows is also under construction (a whole other story).I am so excited to begin working in this "new" space. Even so, I'm sure that I'll also spend some time at the Art Gym each week just to get out and be around other artists.Speaking of creative spaces... this morning I was re-reading a lovely essay by the poet Mary Oliver about the time, space and focus usually required to keep the thread of an idea moving forward."No one yet has made a list of places where the extraordinary may happen and where it may not. Still, there are indications. Among crowds, in drawing rooms, among easements and comforts and pleasures, it is seldom seen. It likes the out-of-doors. It likes the concentrating mind. It likes solitude. It is more likely to stick to the risk-taker than the ticket-taker. It isn’t that it would disparage comforts, or the set routines of the world, but that its concern is directed to another place. Its concern is the edge, and the making of a form out of the formlessness that is beyond the edge."The whole essay, titled "The Artist's Task," is here... a good read and applicable to most any creative pursuit.SaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSave

Standing in the shadow of the moon

I was vacationing with my family in Oregon during the total solar eclipse this summer (08.21.17). We took advantage of an eclipse-related festival and attended educational / cultural events at my alma mater, Oregon State University, for a couple of days.

It was wonderfully nostalgic -- here's a photo of me in front of Fairbanks Hall, the art building, which seems almost entirely unchanged since I graduated. The atmosphere, with smells of paint and views out the old glass windows, is just as I remembered. The gallery inside was hosting a really well-conceived show, titled "Totality."

Me on the steps of Fairbanks Hall, the art and design building where I spent so many hours during college.

On the morning of the eclipse, we positioned ourselves in an open plaza area where we could see shadows cast by the trees and watch the sunlight project the eclipse through those openings and onto the ground, as if through a pinhole camera.

I was totally enchanted by the cast shadows that were the reverse of what we were looking at in the sky (with our special glasses on, of course).

Adjacent to the plaza was a sports court with a smooth blue surface. The images were even more distinct there, some of them looking like marbled paper. Even our shadows began to have some of those eclipse shapes in the negative spaces.

I was alternatively looking at the sun with my glasses and then taking them off to see what was happening on the ground. All the while the air was cooling as the sunlight diminished. (The white stripe bisecting the image with blue/green background is boundary line on the sports court.)

Below is a photo taken right before totality, when all the shadows of the trees went away as darkness fell mid-morning.

Just before the eclipse became total, shadows on the ground appeared that wiggled like snakes, kind of like the heat wave you see over the road when driving on a hot day. It was the glowing activity of the corona very briefly projecting itself onto us and the ground… an odd, almost dizzying sensation.

Suddenly it seemed like the moon snapped fully over the sun. I felt that I heard a sonic boom. Then it was dark above, with a glow 360 degrees around the edges of the horizon as if the sun had set not long ago... simply gorgeous. We were able to look up without the glasses during that time and try to absorb what we were seeing.

The image of the moon in front of the sun was so powerful. We were awe-struck. I feel like the image is imprinted on my brain -- I can be recall it in a very clear way. The eclipse tinted us and everything around us a metallic gray color. The shimmery glow around the moon was beautiful. Totality lasted less than two minutes and then the moon began to move off the sun. We put our glasses back on and watched the remainder of the eclipse until the sun shone fully again. I have a whole new recognition of the three dimensionality of the moon and sun in space now.

I'm wondering how experiencing the eclipse might affect my work in the future. I've always loved circles and have taught myself how to rip pretty good ones, if a little ragged, to use in my collages.

I was struck when I got home from the trip and looked anew at this collage, "Replay," made in 2012, which hangs over my desk. The correlations are rather interesting... it has a painted background with salvaged and painted papers applied on top. And yes, I ripped all those yellow-gold circle shapes and the half circle negative strips.

“Replay,” 2012, 36 x 24 x 2″, salvaged and painted paper on wood panel. ©Janice McDonald.

While the rest of the family has declared themselves to be total umbraphiles, I'm still processing this stunning experience... not sure if seeing another would diminish or enhance the power of the first experience. If you've never seen a total solar eclipse though, I believe it’s worth making the effort to get a location where you can experience totality... as my favorite commemorative t-shirt read, "Totality Worth It!"

Lull

Exploring the gardens, spring 2017.

Work table at the Art Gym and one of my sketchbook collages ~ 12 x 9."

You may've noticed that I've been quieter lately... not so present on social media or here on the blog. I'm recovering from a total knee replacement and that's been my priority project since the beginning of the year. Sessions of elevating, icing, rest, physical therapy, walking and stationary bike riding have punctuated my days and been my focus.I've used our Botanic Gardens membership nearly daily for parts of the spring... lots of surface types to walk on, uncrowded, and so much inspiration in nature. What a luxury to be close enough to do my walks there!

Thankfully my recovery has coincided with a period of time when show commitments were negligible. And while I haven't completed much work lately, I've been thinking a lot about collage, concepts for future works, and the place of art in my life. Not to mention reading, looking at art, and watching way too much political coverage.

Since moving out of the studio at 910 Arts on Santa Fe last fall, followed by dealing with my Dad's death, I've not finished moving back into my home studio fully... and simply haven't had the mobility to muscle boxes of paper around until now. So organizing the space is high on my list of summer priorities. In the meantime, I'm enjoying working a bit each week at Denver's super cool Art Gym.

Just beyond the studio, the about-to-fall-down, 107-year-old, garage in the back yard has been demolished and we await the building permit variance required to rebuild. I've resigned myself to having the family bike collection in the dining room with miscellaneous tools and garage stuff on the back porch. Meanwhile, my stationary bike is positioned in the middle of the art studio, soaking up the crazy, unkempt, creative atmosphere -- as I ride to nowhere! But it'll turn out to be somewhere, no doubt. I'm ready to get back to work.

Collect, Compose & Create — a collage workshop

There have been a lot of requests to learn more about my collage processes, so yes, I'm finally offering a one-day workshop! It'll be happening on Sunday, October 16, 2016 from 9am to 4pm at my studio in Denver, Colorado. I'll be discussing collage in general, collecting materials, and composition — as well as reviewing supports and adhesive techniques, including my signature wet working process. There will be plenty of materials to work with and finished examples to enhance our conversations along with ample time to experiment, work on collages, and discuss.

Attendance is limited to six people so there will be plenty of space to work and so that I can spend adequate time with each person attending. Workshop cost is $120. plus a $10. materials fee.  Information about what to bring will be provided to all registrants by September 20. Most materials will be provided however you may want to bring special items that are of interest to you.

I'm really excited about spending a day immersed in collage activities with some of you! For more information or to register, please contact me via the connect page on my website.***9.21.16 Class is now full. However, please contact me if you'd like to add your name to a list to receive advance notice of future classes.***