Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Don't Stop Believing
Time to start believing again! (whew)
I am releasing one limited edition print each month in the year 2010. The series is called "The Year of Believing". Each is limited to an edition of 5. They are available for $100 each, and only during the month of it's release.
I was on track with Jan, Feb and March. However, I admit to losing faith recently, and before I knew it, April, May and June were hanging in the balance somewhere between a broken heart and a thunderstorm. But alas, I have managed to catch up and now I bring to you April, May and June all at once, just days before July is upon us (the time really does march right along doesn't it?) So, April, May, June and July will all be available throughout July. I'm sorry for my absence and I hope these 3 new prints will inspire and uplift you... somehow.
Thanks, Rebecca
APRIL (pictured above)
"Navigating April"
We have all heard about April Showers, but what do we do with all that life funneling down into our little boats? We paddle on. That's right. April is a reminder that no matter what comes our way, we have the oars in hand. (or we don't, and we resort to hand-paddling upstream)
Archival pigment print
image: 8.5" x 8.5"
paper: 11" x 11"
signed and numbered on front
MAY (pictured above)
"May is a Reservoir"
Once all that spring rain accumulated, it seemed much like a reservoir of emotion, experience and possibility. I found myself floating out there all alone on the reservoir of myself, wondering what I was supposed to learn from all of it. May is another funnel but this time with a mess of dreaming and floating and feeling lost. May is going no where in particular, just round and round in the same spot. The shoes on the floor remind me that reality returns when we wake, and it's never as bad as it seems in the dark.
Archival pigment print
image: 8.5" x 8.5"
paper: 11" x 11"
signed and numbered on front
JUNE (pictured above)
"Getting Over June"
Sometime I try to imagine what could make our obstacles a little softer to encounter. In this case, a quilt draped over a fence makes me feel like "home" is a feeling that you can take with you wherever you go. All that cotton and stitching is just a blanket, but somehow its more than that. It's a softer way over the hump.
Archival pigment print
image: 8.5" x 8.5"
paper: 11" x 11"
signed and numbered on front
I am releasing one limited edition print each month in the year 2010. The series is called "The Year of Believing". Each is limited to an edition of 5. They are available for $100 each, and only during the month of it's release.
I was on track with Jan, Feb and March. However, I admit to losing faith recently, and before I knew it, April, May and June were hanging in the balance somewhere between a broken heart and a thunderstorm. But alas, I have managed to catch up and now I bring to you April, May and June all at once, just days before July is upon us (the time really does march right along doesn't it?) So, April, May, June and July will all be available throughout July. I'm sorry for my absence and I hope these 3 new prints will inspire and uplift you... somehow.
Thanks, Rebecca
APRIL (pictured above)
"Navigating April"
We have all heard about April Showers, but what do we do with all that life funneling down into our little boats? We paddle on. That's right. April is a reminder that no matter what comes our way, we have the oars in hand. (or we don't, and we resort to hand-paddling upstream)
Archival pigment print
image: 8.5" x 8.5"
paper: 11" x 11"
signed and numbered on front
MAY (pictured above)
"May is a Reservoir"
Once all that spring rain accumulated, it seemed much like a reservoir of emotion, experience and possibility. I found myself floating out there all alone on the reservoir of myself, wondering what I was supposed to learn from all of it. May is another funnel but this time with a mess of dreaming and floating and feeling lost. May is going no where in particular, just round and round in the same spot. The shoes on the floor remind me that reality returns when we wake, and it's never as bad as it seems in the dark.
Archival pigment print
image: 8.5" x 8.5"
paper: 11" x 11"
signed and numbered on front
JUNE (pictured above)"Getting Over June"
Sometime I try to imagine what could make our obstacles a little softer to encounter. In this case, a quilt draped over a fence makes me feel like "home" is a feeling that you can take with you wherever you go. All that cotton and stitching is just a blanket, but somehow its more than that. It's a softer way over the hump.
Archival pigment print
image: 8.5" x 8.5"
paper: 11" x 11"
signed and numbered on front
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Growing Pains - Photos from the Opening
At LeMieux Galleries for the "Growing Pains" opening, standing in front of my painting "Morning", with fellow artists Olivia Hill and Marin Dearie (also in the show)
One wants a teller in a time like this
One wants a teller in a time like this
One's not a man, one's not a woman grown
To bear enormous business all alone.
One cannot walk this winding street with pride
Straight-shouldered, tranquil-eyed,
Knowing one knows for sure the way back home.
One wonders if one has a home.
One is not certain if or why or how.
One wants a Teller now:
Put on your rubbers and you won't catch a cold
Here's hell, there's heaven. Go to Sunday School
Be patient, time brings all good things--(and cool
Stong balm to calm the burning at the brain?)
Behold,
Love's true, and triumphs; and God's actual.
-Gwendolyn Brooks
One's not a man, one's not a woman grown
To bear enormous business all alone.
One cannot walk this winding street with pride
Straight-shouldered, tranquil-eyed,
Knowing one knows for sure the way back home.
One wonders if one has a home.
One is not certain if or why or how.
One wants a Teller now:
Put on your rubbers and you won't catch a cold
Here's hell, there's heaven. Go to Sunday School
Be patient, time brings all good things--(and cool
Stong balm to calm the burning at the brain?)
Behold,
Love's true, and triumphs; and God's actual.
-Gwendolyn Brooks
Friday, June 4, 2010
Growing Pains
I must still be growing, because it's still hurting.
My painting titled "Morning" is all about that inherent paradox of letting something go, knowing how good it was, and reaching way back into personal memory to find pieces of youth that comfort the crazy heart.
I'm honored that the painting is included in this show:
"Growing Pains"
LeMieux Galleries
332 Julia St.
Opening Reception
Saturday, June 5
6:00 - 8:00
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