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This week's doodle is a looooooooong one.
It was doodled on an envelope. This doodle is a graphic representation of dealing with a bureaucracy.
I was on the phone with the doctor's office when I did this. Or more accurately, I was on hold with the doctor's office. 'Nuff said.
This week's doodle was an easy pick, I mean, look at those little fishies. Stinkin' cute!
Do you remember the fish craze in the '90's? Everybody was doing fish art back then.
Recently, birds have been the animal of choice for artists. Deer seem to be making a comeback, though I think their association with Christmas hurts them. Cats and dogs are a perennial faves, cows and horses have enjoyed popularity as well.
I always wonder how these trends things get started. Is it a monkey see monkey do thing? Someone, somewhere would have to start it.
I have drawn horses since I was a kid, and they are the most frequent animal that appear in my doodles. I occasionally doodle camels, I like the sinuous lines made by the neck and hump(s). I like them in a funny way. Camels are the gawky teenagers of the animal kingdom
I wonder if I could start a craze for camels?
Did you know that the Roman year started in March? Just step outside and you can see why.
Daffodils are associated with March, being one of the first flowers to appear in Spring. Daffodils are symbolic of rebirth and rejuvenation. However, in the language of flowers rebirth they are simultaneously mean "the sun shines when I am with you" and "unrequited love". I feel sorry for that guy.
No daffodils here (or in my garden because they are always late), but I have a doodle for you. Are these flowers and leaves? Medallions and shields? Eyes and bullseyes? Boats and stars?
Whatever they are here is a whole page of 'em, courtesy of my new box of Uniball Micros. They are my go to pen for fine lines. (Do you think I could get Stanford pens to sponsor me? I plug them enough.)
Ok, I could have sworn that I posted this, but no amount of refreshing makes it come up. I have the image, so I did part of it. Typical. I have always said that when I get senile, no one will notice.
Postus interruptus. It happens to the best of bloggers.
Let's just pretend that I got this up last week:
Something about this doodle reminds me of a high school book cover. You know, when they gave out your new textbooks and told you that you needed a book cover.
Some people bought fancy ones, printed with characters from tv shows, favorite bands, sports stars or cute puppies and kittens. I liked the plain DIY kind made out of a paper bag, then I had the whole year to decorate it.
Alright! I am actually getting to Part 2 when I said I would. Allow me a moment to be impressed with myself.
The next stop was the Museum of Contemporary Crafts. Because of the embroidery component to my Books & Needles project, I wanted to see the Darrel Morris embroideries. The mere fact that he is male and working within a traditionally female
medium makes this work notable, but they are better than that and
beyond that.
Darrel Morris grew up in Kentucky and learned crafts from his grandmother while listening to her tell stories. His embroideries reflect both the crafting and storytelling traditions without being overtly traditional themselves.
The embroideries on display are large works, 6 feet or larger. They read like line drawings. There is a kind of jumbled energy to Morris' work. Figures trample all over one another. The intricately stitched line wiggles and vibrates. The works manage to be funny and scary at the same time.
That is what I went to see, but it was walking into Mandy Greer's world that made my jaw drop when I saw it. That is not a typo. An installation commissioned by the Bellevue Arts Museum, Greer's “Dare alla luce” is a stroll through another dimension. I can't recall another installation that affected me so profoundly. I wanted to climb into it and stay there.
Quintana Gallery specializes in indigenous art, old and new. At some point in the intervening years, they have moved from Old Town into the Pearl. I wonder why I had not visited Quintana in years.
My folks collected Inuit soapstone carvings, so I grew up with it. I have a couple of pieces, one badly damaged, and one small carving, that had been theirs in my home. They are not spectacular pieces, but they mean a lot to me anyway.
I have seen enough of this kind of work to know that the gallery had some really exceptional carvings. My favorite was this incredible walrus by Mathew Saviajuk. This piece is so alive, so full of walrusness. It is easy to forget he is carved in stone, he seems so blubbery. And amazing to imagine that this subtle carving was done with an axe.
I also enjoyed the spirit masks with their concentric circles representing different aspects of the soul, a physical manifestation of unseen worlds. They honor all who make life possible in the Artic, the ancestors and the animals. This is Loon Spirit Mask byJohn Nasoalook Tetpon. It was not one of the pieces that we saw, but it is similar.
The traditional art of the Pacific Northwest has rarely appealed to me in the past, the abstraction used to strike me as too blunt for my taste. But, after so many years here, I have changed my tune. The salmon, bear, whale and thunderbird images that I used to find ugly, must have worked their way into my blood.
