Be Delighted

"Oh my my my my, what an eager little mind!"

Auntie Mame

Friday, January 27, 2012

The Big Book of Wonders and Delights- Part II (interim)


Still working on that big book of ......stuff. I'm using up a lot of paint and glue and making a mess. It's like being a kid in kindergarten again with art as the major part of the daily lesson plan. Wouldn't that be great? Above is a preview of one of the pages. An old experiment in collage. Other pages I am creating from scratch or reassembling from bits of this and that:


In the meantime I have been thinking a lot about books and how important they have been in my life. I have always had a library of sorts. Nothing fancy, just shelves to hold the books. There is something about tangibly seeing the books that makes them a part of your home, like a well-loved painting or a comfy sofa. Right now my so-called library is a wall of shelves in the basement:
Some of those books are classics. I would like to say I have read them all but I have not. Some I studied in high school and college, others I read in book club. I got hardback heritage copies of these books because they are great literature and should be respected.

Other books are the original versions that my Dad used to read to us as children, like this favorite edition of The Arabian Nights from the 1950's.

I also have a fondness for poetry. It used to be cool to read poetry. The country used to have poet laureates whose names we recognized, like Robert Frost and Maya Angelou. I feel bad that I don't even know if we have a poet laureate anymore.

Sometimes I buy a book just because it has beautiful artwork in it.
But mostly I have bought books just to get lost in them. And despite the "nice" books I own, I have a particular fondness for the lowly paperback: the cheap paper, the flashy cover, the ease of creasing a page, stuffing it into a purse, scribbling in a margin, bending the spine, spilling coffee on the print, basically treating it like a throwaway. Years later I handle these books kindly, still not thrown away, and I remember exactly where I was, how old I was, and how, when first opening those pages, I was transported and transformed.

I guess that's the problem with the Kindle. Even though I have read about twenty books on mine this past year, and have, I suppose, saved some paper from the landfill, it has no lingering tactile memory. I will only remember holding a piece of plastic with a screen, no matter which book I have read. It will all be the same touch and smell (or lack of), whether I am reading a Pulitzer Prize winner or a pulp murder mystery.
When I worked in a book store in my madcap youth, it surprised me at first to find out that when we returned paperback books to the publisher, we tore off the covers to return for credit, and threw the rest of the book away. It no longer had any value. Naturally we employees scooped up all those coverless books and  took them home to read. I still have a few of those books without 'faces' from that time, (including the juicy biography of Lana Turner) looking a bit sad and naked, but still a friend on the shelf.
Lately I have been culling some of my books, knowing I no longer have that particular interest (70's style crocheted sweaters?) or will never read them again, donating them to the library, to used book stores, or to friends. As I get older the idea of collecting gives way to the idea of not leaving a lot of mess behind when I have gone. My children are not readers like I am. Maybe they will grow into it. Maybe they will only see all those books as dust collectors weighing down their mobile lives. All their photos, their music, their books, their mail, their games, will be in one little lightweight place. Oh, say like this:

Wuthering Heights, anyone? I think it's about co-dependence........

Saturday, January 21, 2012

The Big Book of Wonders and Delights. Part I


When I was younger (MUCH younger) I used to have a recurring dream about wandering into a beautiful old library filled from floor to ceiling with row after row of books. There was light coming in from long Gothic windows, and the shelves seemed to go on forever. These weren't just any books. These were books full of secrets and wonders, magic stories and beautiful illuminations. I could pull any book down and it was filled with exquisite artwork, mysterious maps, stories of adventure and intrigue. Nothing was specific, I just knew that all of this was there for me whenever I wanted to come in and browse. A book nerd's heaven.
Wealthy Victorians could create these libraries for themselves. They were usually considered a man's domain. Women, silly things, were too busy embroidering samplers and having friends for tea. (Pardon me while I stifle a yawn). In modern times if you are fabulously wealthy you too can have a library like that. Here is George Lucas' library on his secret planet above California, Skywalker Ranch:
In the Doctor Who series there was an episode called "Silence in the Library", in which the library was an entire planet that contained all of the knowledge in the universe. If it had all been put on a Kindle it wouldn't have looked quite so large, or fascinating:
So.....I have been obsessed with making little books of my own, as you have noticed in my past two blogs. It may be my reaction to the slow death of real-life, tactile books (and yes, I do have a Kindle) and the real life, wonderful little book stores I love to discover on trips. I am about to move on to another topic in my blogging but first I decided to attempt one more book, a book full of colour and imagery and poetry and dreams, with hidden surprises between the pages. And hidden surprises under the pages too. It will take me awhile to finish so this is just a preview. I give you The Magic Book Cover.
I started with an empty box of microwave popcorn packets:
Stay with me. It gets better. I found this wonderful DIY technique online and will give credit where it is due next time.
After opening the box out flat I covered both sides with Gesso. Gesso is a fabulous substances. It turns every surface into an art canvas ready for paint. Do not try on your pet.
After this I added a soft, pleasing coat of aqua paint.
Then I did a little hocus pocus with stenciling, bubble wrap, and spattering paint.
Next, I grabbed some brown wrapping paper and crumpled it over and over until it softened into a chamois-like brown substance.
The excitement builds. I then glued the back of the box to the brown paper, let it dry, cut around it and folded it over to create the cover of my big book of wonders and delights.
 The brown paper was then covered with various mixes of brown, black, and gold paint until I liked the way it looked. Brushing on a final light coat of gold metallic paint gave it a wonderful, old book patina. I loved this part so much I almost wanted to hug the book cover.
 And finally I turned to the inside covers and did some more hocus pocus with stenciling and paint so that the brown paper blended in with the painted surface. Not bad considering that ugly box I started with.

Now to fill it with wonderful pages of art. In other words all the extra crap and abandoned projects lying around my studio. But I need about a week to get that done so I shall return shortly with paint stained fingers.








Thursday, January 19, 2012

Lunatic

Lunatics were so called because even philosophers like Aristotle used to believe that susceptible people could be driven mad by the full moon. Nowadays we know that is not true, they can only turn into werewolves. Nevertheless I am a big fan of the moon. I know it's only a dead rock in space but it's the only nightlight I have. I love the poetry of the moon. I love seeing it tangled in tree branches and coasting through clouds. I like its' Cheshire cat grin, its' waxing and waning, and even it's dark side (Pink Floyd did also). I like all the cheesy songs written about it, all the myths and legends, the fairy tales and fantasies. So after my last mini book, which almost required sun glasses to view, in its worship of hot colours, I decided to play it cool this time with a tiny tribute to la Bella Luna.
This book is even smaller than the last, at 3"x 4". Not a coffee table book, more like a coaster book.
 I did this one on folded sheets of watercolour paper in acrylic with black and white inks and just a wee bit of collage.
All in all a satisfying little project that only took one afternoon. Time enough to go out and get a little moonstruck.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Little Book, Big Colours

A few months ago we were at Home Depot getting paint for our walls. I found myself enamored by all the paint sample squares and strips, having more fun gathering interesting colour combinations than actually selecting one for the walls. And they were free, right? Cute little 3"x 3" squares in shades like Aqua Breeze, Sunset, and Lemon Sherbet. (I want to make up my own names for paint colours. Something like Puppy Belly or Faded Couch or Angry Rhino, but I don't see them selling as well). So, while my original intention was just to create a stack of cards I could mix and match for possible palette ideas in a painting or quilt, I found myself actually painting ON the squares as if they were mini canvases. For some reason I was more spontaneous and free with these tiny ventures into Abstract Expressionism, than if I had prepped a big canvas and gotten out my jumbo sized brushes. Is there a word for fear of large paintings? Working on my wee miniatures lessened the impact if I screwed up. Just toss the paint square and try again. I ended up with a stack of about 15 teeny artworks. But then what to do with them? I thought of mounting them in a grid, but in the end I liked the idea of a tiny book. I chose the best twelve and mounted them on both sides of watercolour paper cut in 5"x 10" strips so they could be folded in half to make the  5" pages. But first I needed a cover page and a title so out came  the brightest red acrylic paint I could mix, Cadmium Red Medium with a few drops of Pyrrole Orange. I think I will call this shade Red Hot Mama:
 See the gold stamping on that red cover that looks sort of like a flower? I dipped the dried cut end of a celery bunch in metallic paint. The turquoise hexagons are from some bubble wrap, and the bullseye circles are the end of a spool of thread. Everything is an art tool.
Here are the rest of the pages photographed flat before they will be folded into the book then stitched with waxed linen thread along the spine. I may add words but right now it's just a picture book, a celebration of saturated colour, an exploration of design and composition. If I ever try one of these on a giant scale, well, I'm going to need a bigger studio.
Click once on each image to see them close-up and read the tiny print from the German dictionary pages.

Here's the assembled book and someone (who needs a manicure) browsing through it: "Riveting, a real pager turner!"






Thursday, January 5, 2012

What's Cooking?

Yes, I know you were expecting something else but I'm going all Julia Child on you today. It's winter and what is better than some yummy French Onion Soup? No, I don't really like cooking that much, I'd rather be putting that time and effort into something that does not disappear in 15 minutes. But every now and then I gird my loins (without even the wearing of Spanx), put on my best arch-friendly shoes, and step up to the stove.
First of all, this is not like opening a can of Campbell's soup and heating it. There's some intense labor involved, beginning with the fine slicing of six onions. I use 3 red onions and 3 yellow onions as they caramelize better than white onions. I slice each onion in half so there is a flat surface to steady the onions as I slice them in 1/8" slivers and hope I keep all my fingers.
 That's a big pile of onions, and a number of shed tears. Next I get out my cast iron Dutch oven (good for arm toning) and cover the bottom in olive oil, which is probably around a quarter to one third cup. After heating it on a medium high heat I add the onions. It looks like a HUGE pile.
 Now here's the fun part. I stand and stir this for 30-40 minutes while the onions slowly cook down and caramelize into a beige lump of goo. Some recipes say 15 minutes. Don't listen. The longer they saute, the better. About ten minutes in, sprinkle a wee bit of sugar into it, maybe a flat teaspoon, to help the process. Have a friend or family member (or a glass of wine) standing by to entertain you while you stir and stir.
After it looks sort of golden and sticky add either 8 cups of good beef stock, or 4 cups of beef stock and 4 cups of chicken broth. If you are vegetarian use 8 cups of vegetable stock. Home cooked is richer and better but I just bought organic beef and chicken stock in cartons and used that. Also add a bit of fresh thyme, a bay leaf, and some salt and pepper. Cover loosely and simmer for 25 minutes.
Looks pretty, n'est pas? The best is yet to come. Spoon portions into oven safe small ceramic bowls (or one big casserole). Have a French baguette handy that has been sliced. Since I spent all this time chopping and stirring I let the bakery do that for me. Cover the top of each portion with baguette rounds, then place a square of Swiss cheese on top. I use Tilamook. It's the best.
This photo looks straight out of a 1960's cookbook but my ambient light in the kitchen, plus the dark green counters, makes everything greenish gold. Now the bowls are placed under the broiler in the oven until they look like this:
Heaven in a bowl. It's a meal in itself, which allows for more baguette on the side and chocolate afterwards.

Update on January 12th: My friend, and former student, Veronique Gautreaux Poncet, whose parents used to own the Crepe Suzette restaurant, is herself a fabulous cook. She recommends adding a bit of brandy to this recipe to really bring out the richness of the flavors. Merci!