Forgotten Dreams

Werner Herzog's new documentary, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, is mesmerizing. Cave paintings are the original watermark ... the oldest traceable record of man. This film takes us inside the Chauvet caves of Southern France to witness 30,000 year old cave paintings. I have only been in two caves in my lifetime. Caves have that way of dwarfing mankind; diminishing how I feel about my place in the universe. The patience of stalagmites and the pristine way caves preserve their caches really make me second-guess the Rocky Mountains I see every day of my life. We have no way of knowing how many mysteries are unaccessible to us. So it's fortunate when discoveries like this are made. I understand the primitive impulse of marking, but seeing the hand prints of ancient man in such a fresh way only provokes questions upon questions for me. And absolute respect for humans; for our creative spirit; for our brief time on Earth and for our unifying desire to leave something behind.

See Amid the Winter's Snow

A perfect wintry evening: jazz band and gallery stroll through the Flynn Artipelago Studios as the weather achieved near-blizzard status. The Chow Truck kept us well fed with spicy tacos. One studio offered mulled cider ... you really need a night like this to appreciate hot cider.

A woman made glass beads with her blowtorch; we contemplated buying a Dia de los Muertos tile wall hanging; another woman fashioned miniature birdbaths beside her kiln; and a stoner's studio had an old Mac from the early 90's covered with paint and fingerprints, but I was too shy to photograph that with all his questionable buddies hanging 'round.

Headed back to the car afterward, we took brief refuge under a tree still laden with leaves and berries, now hung low with wet jeweled snow.

Full Bleed

Held at the Mandate Press in Salt Lake City, here is a synopsis of a recently-attended exotic AIGA event: Full Bleed.

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On Thursday, October 28, the world of contemporary art and body art will merge as AIGA joins with professionals from the Yellow Rose and Cathedral Tattoo shops for 'Full Bleed: The tattoo and design experience.'

Tattoo culture has seen an influx of new artists, many of whom have impressive technical and fine arts training. From drawings, prints, and paintings to skin, the art and culture of the tattoo industry crosses traditional boundaries by telling life stories. Using the iconography of experiences, from classic Tattoo Flash to the Old West, from Asia and Polynesia, each design carries it's own special meaning.

Join AIGA Salt Lake City as we explore the graphic perspective on today's global tattoo culture. Entry gets you two drinks on us, access to top local artists, local artwork, and plenty of ink!
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Drawing Conclusions

Give me a three-hole punch and a binder. Scissors, stapler, and a stack of my subscriptions … I am good to go. Among winter’s many graces are snowy nights stuck inside. I have been organizing the dickens out of my home. The promise of having a place for everything requires removal. I have shed two years worth of Sunset magazine by clipping and filing into binders to match their mission: travel, home & garden, food. I am transferring notes from my monthly Cooking Light into their annual cookbook. This is my ninth year of loyalty. In fact, I am donating three cookbooks other’s have gifted me because I simply won’t use them.

This year-end scrub up and filing fantasia is even more delightful as I completed today both a sketchbook and a diary. I watercolored the last page of my Moleskine notebook bought in San Francisco in ‘06. The first painting was on Labor Day ’08 and I have consistently painted an impromptu picture each holiday since. I also finished a wood-covered journal bought in New York last year. First entry was the day after Thanksgiving ’09. It brings great pleasure to crack open a new Moleskine (scheduled for Martin Luther King Day) and a new journal I bought last month in San Francisco.

In truth, I spoke to soon. I have yet to tackle the filing cabinet. I just don’t think I can do it without a paper shredder. My organizational armory is incomplete.

Grandpa's Art Supplies

My cousin Karen and I went out to dinner last night to visit, and to share Grandpa's art supplies. Grandpa started painting after he retired; primarily landscapes from calendars and magazines; and did so for about 30 years. I believe all his progeny has a painting to keep. The fruits of his labor are the real treat; but Karen and I have inherited Grandpa's tackle-box full of oils, brushes, erasers, drafting equipment, a nut cracker (to loosen the caps from tubes of paint) and other miscellany. Seems all of Grandpa's passions were something that could be shared: fishing meant time together, as did religion, and he freely gave away his paintings. They've always been a delight but now they're true tokens of remembrance. Orrin Tether Colby, 1914—2008.

Andrew Wyeth, 1917-2009

A memorable excursion from our honeymoon was stopping in Rockland, Maine to visit the Farnsworth Art Museum and Wyeth Center. Andrew Wyeth is more iconic of American art (for me) than Rockwell or Hopper. In fact, at age 15 I attempted to copy a Wyeth watercolor (above) to get a sense of his method. In college I also tried egg tempura to amateur effect (detail above right.) Wyeth's paintings help me adjust to aging, the stillness of life, authenticity and letting go. His work demonstrates an extraordinary capacity for visual mediums to reveal life's deepest, most personal contemplations.