41 for 41: Make a Marbling Coffee Table Book

Last year I attended a show my photographer friend, Ann, was participating in at a gallery in Marina del Ray. As I was wandering through the place taking in other artists' creations, I noticed one had a collection of her work in a book. Each page featured a single image. No words. Just a lovely visual journey through her work.  As I was thumbing through it, I realized she had simply created and printed a photo book from one of the digital photo printing websites like Shutterfly or Blurb. I thought that was brilliant! I loved it...so much so that when I created my 41 for 41 list, it was one of the first goals I wrote down!

It's not that I want an actual book of my work to be on coffee tables around the world (though now that I say that, why not?!). It's that I want to use this book as a sort of business card/portfolio/show-n-tell piece that I can carry with me (to whip out when someone asks, "what is marbling?"), give away (you can probably bet my mom is going to get one!), or give to someone with whom I intend to do business (like a gallery or juried art show).

My "coffee table book," however, isn't just digital images. In it's 20 pages, half of the work shown is the real deal. In other words, next to a digital image on a two-page spread, I've "tipped in" (or inserted) an original piece. Why? Because I want people to get a feel (literally and figuratively) for a "live" piece. I want them to be able to touch the paper (or canvas or wood) and see up close and personal how the art form behaves on it. And why not just do all original pieces? Because I have some pieces I love but they are no longer in my possession, either having been sold, are for sale, or were used for something like my hand-bound journals.

Right now I have three of these books. I intend to make some tweaks to a few pages and then order another five or 10 to have on hand. I'm thrilled with the way they turned out and can't wait to start putting them into action!

Hello, Spring!

My new header this month is in honor of the spring weather we're having here in LA. Rain, cool temps, sun, warm temps, rain, cool temps, sun, warm temps, rinse and repeat. Crocuses and tulips are already gone. Azaleas are on their way out. But my garden is starting to FINALLY burst. After a tough winter with failed crop after failed crop (come on, broccoli...why you gots to be so mean to me?!!), I'm counting on summer to bring me my beloved kale, scallions, beets, Kentucky wonder beans, tomatoes, and more. I'm sort of cheating here as the header comes from this piece, which was featured on my blog earlier this year. I'm not a good flower maker when it comes to marbling. Actually, I'm a horrible one. Catastrophic is probably a better word. You really should check out the work of this AMAZING marbling artist, Gafur Yakar. Dude does flowers like nobody's business.

Seriously, how insanely spectacular are these? Even the backgrounds are drop-dead gorgeous.

Weekend of Food

(I wish I could say I took these photos but I did not. They are all from the websites whose recipes I linked to below.)

After having not been in the kitchen much in March (being that I was away sailing the BVIs and taking fabric marbling classes and all), I went nutso this weekend and played hard at the stove, oven, and cutting board. Here are a few recipes worthy of passing on.

Kick-butt Sunday muffins - O really, any day of the week. This recipe came to me from one of the women in my fabric marbling class. It is absolutely delicious. The surprise ingredient: tomato juice! It totally works so don't be afraid of it. And if you are, read the comments for alternative suggestions. One person used orange juice and orange zest instead...something I'm going to try next time (and save the tomato juice for a Bloody Mary!).

Insanely flavorful, colorful, and crunchy salad - I made this salad to go with a black bean soup I was craving. I figured the soft texture and monotone color of the soup would be nicely complemented by it. Plus, it seemed ridiculously simple to make. Me likey that. Unfortunately, I messed up the soup by adding WAY too much chipotle chile powder, resulting in a tongue-numbing, head sweating experience that would make even the hottest habanero on the planet appear to be cottage-cheese bland. But this salad saved the meal. It's cool, sweet and savory crunch was a welcome relief after a few spoonfuls of soup. And it's chock full of good things for you (purple cabbage, edamame, pineapple, almonds!!). I doubled the number of almonds and the amount of garlic-chile sauce it called for and omitted the mint (which I'm not a fan of unless it's in Coconut Bliss' Mint Galatica non-dairy ice cream). Seriously, make this salad. You won't be disappointed.

Chickpea "Untuna" Salad - Robin Robertson is a staple in the vegan cookbook world and while I don't own any of her books, I do follow her blog. When she posted this recipe for the vegan version of tuna salad, I have to admit I was skeptical. Chickpeas taste like tuna? YES THEY DO!!! I make this recipe at least three times a month. I love it that much. And so will you.

Avocado in my hummus? Okay, I'll try that - First off, this recipe makes a butt load so cut it in half if you're not making it for an army. Secondly, I don't know where the heck I'm going to find nigella seeds to top this off with so scratch that off the ingredient list. Besides that though, I really enjoyed this take on hummus. I loved making the garlic confit--so much so I think I'll do that for all my hummus-making adventures going forward. And the Dijon mustard perfectly accented the milder flavor of the avocado. Bravo.

Is that abalone I'm tasting? - Why, yes it is. Abalone mushrooms, that is. My farmer's market has a new 'shroom guy and I simply couldn't resist buying a variety of his gorgeous blue oyster, abalone, and royal trumpet mushrooms. I cut these bad boys in half and made them according to the Mock Abalone recipe and they were fantastic. BUT...next time I'm just going to saute them straight up in garlic and olive oil with herbs from my garden. When they are that fresh, there is no need to cover them up in flour. I served them with roasted acorn squash topped with cilantro-jalapeno vinaigrette and spinach sautéed in garlic. Nummy.

The rest of this weekend's bounty came from my own made up recipes --a bean salad with cucumber, avocado, hearts of palm, and tomatoes; and homemade baked french fries to go with our Field Roast smoked apple sage sausages topped with my zesty apple coleslaw. These things I make on the fly. I always tell Emmett to enjoy them now because I'll never make them the exact same way again. And he always does.

Bon appetit!

The Big Tank was Scary

Learning to marble on fabric was the next logical step for me in my pursuit of a higher marbling education, so to speak. The truth is, after marbling steadily for the past two years (and marbling on and off for the past five), I could have taught myself how to do it. And if I hadn't been able to find a fabric marbling class or make it to one this year (which was on my 41 for 41 list), I would have done just that. But when Pat's Arrowmont class was finally given the thumbs up, I jumped on it. I really prefer learning in a hands-on classroom setting, feeding off other students' energy and having the immediate feedback of an experienced instructor, as opposed to being isolated in my studio and trying to make sense of written instructions. That's just the way I work.

The biggest difference in marbling on fabric over paper is the prep and post work involved. With paper, you just alum, marble, rinse, and set out to dry...all in a span of 15 minutes. Done. Fabric, on the other hand, needs to be washed, dried, alumed, air dried, and then ironed before you even BEGIN marbling on it. Once it's marbled, the fabric needs to air dry again and sit for three or so days to cure and then you do an "aggressive rinse." Then air dry (again) and let the fabric rest (again) for another week before doing a final hand wash, air dry, and heat set with an iron (again, again, and again).

Whew! It's exhausting just writing about it. I think I washed and ironed more this past weekend than I have in my entire life (which isn't really saying much since Emmett has done our laundry for the past 20 years. But still...).

The second most notable difference in marbling on fabric versus paper is the size of the tank one uses. Now, one can easily marble fabric in any size tank. For half the class I marbled in a standard 18" x 20" tank. BUT...to marble things such as long scarves or large cuts of fabric, you need a bigger tank. Our class went all out and set up one that was 25" x 75," otherwise known as The Monster Tank.

And a monster it was! Holy Intimidating, Batman! Staring down into The Monster Tank, all that open bath to be designed on, needing to rapidly lay down paint so a film doesn't develop on the surface and then laying down fabric before it all starts to break down...AAAAAHHHHH!!! Remember how you felt as a kid the first time you were standing at the end of the diving board that was 15-feet high above the community pool you had been swimming in all summer long? You had been diving off the low diving board for months, no problem. Back dives even! You love the water. You love jumping into the water. You love a thrill. But there you are, WAY up there on the "high dive," that water WAY down there, and your courage nowhere to be found. THAT'S how I felt when I first looked into The Monster Tank. And if I felt that way about the tank as an experienced marbler, I can only imagine what was going on in the minds of the my fellow classmates, all of whom were marbling NEWBIES!!

But our wonderful teacher Pat soon gently coaxed us to The Monster Tank with sweet, encouraging words of support, calming our fears and assuaging our concerns ("I'm right here next to you. You'll be fine. I won't let go of your hand until you're ready."). And then, when we had swallowed our fears and were ready to make the jump, she went all Drill Sargeant on us (well, as Drill Sargent as one can be when you're smiling and excited to take your students to the next level): "What's your plan? You have to have a plan before you begin!" "Lay that paint down, NOW!" "Don't let that drip back into the tank...get it into the rinse bucket!" Her sense of urgency, of course, was more than completely justified...it was totally necessary. When it comes to The Monster Tank, there is no time to mess around. And quite honestly, without Pat's stern but guiding hand, I don't think any of us would have dared to try, let alone have survived, The Monster Tank. We certainly wouldn't have ended up with the magnificent pieces of fabric that we did.

After our initial fears were beaten into submission by Pat ("there's no time to be afraid, we've got lots of fabric to marble"), there was no stopping us. Suddenly we were vying for Monster Tank time and Pat went from Drill Sargent to referee.

Despite the extra steps and the BIG, SCARY TANK, I fell in love with marbling on fabric. Like with paper, there are so many different kinds of fabric to marble on giving you a variety of effects. I was particularly enamored with the raw silk one of the participants brought in. I also liked marbling on hemp canvas...which is the perfect material for making PLACEMATS!!

As I mentioned earlier, I love being around other marblers and this was no exception. From Wanda's technical wizardry to Kathy's enthusiasm, from Shasha and Missy's deep love for bright, bold patterns to Laura's quiet but adventuresome experimentation with materials and Karen's go-for-it attitude, I couldn't have been surrounded by a better group of people. They reinforced my passion for the art and got me to break out of my marbling routine and try new things.

And all of this occurred on the lovely campus of the Arrowmont School of Arts and Crafts in Gatlinburg, Tenn. Arrowmont has some of the best, most well equipped and organized studios I have ever been in making it one of my favorite places to take a class. I couldn't recommend the place more.

The marbled fabric pieces I made in class are home with me now. They have gone through their second rinsing and at this very moment are hanging to dry on clothesline I have strung inside my garage. I keep making excuses to go out there just so I can see them again and again--I'm THAT in love with them. I'm dying to put them to use too...scarves as gifts, fat quarters for quilting, large pieces for sun shades for my inside studio, smaller pieces for placemats and napkins! And, believe it or not, I can't wait to build my own Monster Tank. Once I do, you're more than welcome to come over and face the beast yourself--IF YOU DARE!

Take a Fabric Marbling Class: CHECK!

I just got back from an extended weekend class at Arrowmont School of Arts and Crafts where I took a fabric marbling class from the amazing Pat K. Thomas. I'm exhausted, my dogs are barkin', and I need a few days to of quiet to balance the high coming off this weekend. I'll post more later about this incredible experience but wanted to share with you a few shots of my resulting work.

"I Felt Blessed"

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQ0rkkbmgXQ&w=560&h=315] There are several things I like about this video of photographer Mattias Klum talking about his face-to-face encounter with a lioness. His observations on perspective are simply beautiful...from how he prefers to shoot (not in a jeep or in a stand but rather at ground level) to the interactions of him looking at the lioness and she looking at him. He is astute in his observation of "balance" as well as the once-in-a-lifetime moment with nature at its most vulnerable (exposing her belly!). The only thing I disagree with him about is his comment that anthropomorphism, when it comes to animals, "isn't reality." How is being aware of, or sensitive to, an animal's emotions any "less real" than being aware of, or sensitive to, another human's emotions? It's not. It's just that when we do that to humans, we call it empathy. I see no reason why we shouldn't extend the same courtesy to animals. What have we got to lose...besides 300 lions if we don't?

I promise you these five minutes are not a waste of your time...you will laugh, you will feel good inside, you will be rewarded. And maybe you'll feel blessed too.

The Last of the Hummingbird Series

Back in early February, I was marbling in the studio, getting ready for the South Pasadena Arts Crawl, and using up the last of the bath and alumed papers. Despite being exhausted after a long day at the tank, several wonderful things happened in that last half hour--including the piece that makes up this month's header. But undoubtedly the most lovely thing to happen was the discovery that I could make a hummingbird out of a single drop of paint. I've featured two of these on the blog before here and here but have saved, what I consider to be, the best for last.

I can barely express how beautiful these pieces are in person. I love everything about them, from the background (which feels as fluid as a hummingbird in motion) to the texture and color of the paper ("bier paper" made by combining recycled beer labels with malt, yeast, and hops leftover from brewing!) to the size of the hummingbirds (which are the same size as ones in real life).

I knew these pieces were special and had them professionally framed.

I wanted to keep both of these for myself. You have no idea how badly I wanted to. How badly I REALLY, REALLY wanted to. But the second these came off the bath there was one person I thought of immediately: my neighbor, Raynee (and when Emmett saw them, the first thing out of his mouth was, "Oh, Raynee's going to love that!"). There are a thousand reasons why I felt compelled to give her at least one of these pieces (one for every time she and Nick have been wonderful to us) but the main one is because she is a hummingbird lover. She has six feeders and religiously keeps them full year-round. The result is a backyard decorated with, at times, upwards of 50 or so of these delicate, precious, tiny birds and their flashes of brilliant color around their necks. They sit on the feeders and telephone wires and up in my Elderberry tree and then swoop about buzzing through the air. It is a wonderful gift she has given not just to herself but to me also.

And so one of my pieces now sits above the fireplace in her living room. I have kept the other one for myself, of course, and it too hangs in my living room. The truth is, the two hung together side-by-side would be off-the-charts steller...but I just couldn't part with them both. She knows this. I told her how hard it was for me to part with one and made her promise to will it back to me when she dies! And every time she sees me, she says with a sigh and a smirk, "Oh, it would be nice to have a set of those marbled hummingbird pieces."

In a way though, they do hang side-by-side---one in her house, one in mine. And like the hummingbirds gathering at the feeders, Raynee and I also enjoy sharing a drink together, regularly swooping between homes for happy hour. Perhaps the Universe never intended the two pieces to share the same space in the first place. Perhaps everything is exactly the way it is supposed to be.

41 for 41 Progress Report

For those of you keeping track, I've recently checked off a few things from my 41 for 41 list.

Purge garage and closet: Oh, boy! Did that feel GREAT!! I don't have, nor do I buy, a lot of "stuff" or clothing but somehow things got out of control. Does anyone else have t-shirts that seem to procreate? I don't know what it is but I NEVER buy them and yet my drawers seem to suddenly overflow with them. Four huge lawn bags full of old clothing, books, not-used camping gear, a few pairs of shoes, a lamp, and some small electronics were picked up by the Disabled Vets. The space created from this purge isn't huge or even significant but it makes everything feel lighter...my mind, my to-do list, and the cleaned-out area all seem to have a new flow and vibe.

Sail the British Virgin Islands with Mom: See previous post!!

Take a fabric marbling class: Game on!! I'll be heading out to Gatlinburg, Tenn. soon to take an extended-weekend course at the Arrowmont School of Arts and Crafts. The class is taught by Pat K. Thomas, the same woman from whom I took a paper marbling class at the John C. Campbell Folkschool last year. I adore Pat. She's a freakin' fabulous marbler and an even better teacher. I'm bringing $400 worth of fabrics with me to marble on--silk scarves; table runners; cotton napkins; and bolts of fabric made of hemp, bamboo, linen, flannel, and quilter's cotton. It. Is. Going. To. Be. Fun.

No TV for the month of February: Actually, I didn't do any TV at all from February 1 through March 13! And I loved it. I've shed the compulsive belief that I would die if I didn't watch Modern Family every Wednesday (so over that show) but the month-long break did not squelch my craving for New Girl. As long as the Tuesday-night show continues to make me belly laugh at least 10 times in a half-hour, I'll keep tuning in. Other than that, I have no plans to turn on the boob-tube.

Still can't decide if I want to go to Nova Scotia or drive the Oregon coast this year. Argh.

I've also filled in open spot #39.

Getting My Land Legs Back

I just returned from a marvelous 10-day trip to the US and British Virgin Islands (BVI). Three of those days were spent independently on St. Thomas (part of the US though oddly you have to go through customs with your passport) and seven were spent aboard the Cuan Law (the world's largest trimaran!) island hopping through the BVI via a charter by the excellent travel company, Adventure Women. When in St. Thomas, my time was spent walking through neighborhoods and along the waterfront. When at sea, it was spent kayaking, snorkeling, swimming, and sailing.

Told you March was going to be all about being on or near or around water.

As you can tell by the photos, my travel companion was my mom. There were also 17 other women on the sailboat with us (not including crew which was made up of two men and three women), making for a VERY FUN time. Chatter was constant. Laughs abundant. Active pursuits ongoing. It's soul satisfying to see women jump hesitant-free into the water with snorkel and mask and emerge with lists of sea life they spotted and identified. Or to see them suit up in SCUBA gear for a night dive. Or to see them easily learn how to kayak while in the middle of the ocean with white caps and large swells. Or to see them confidently sail the Hobie Cat around the point ahead of the Cuan Law.

Whoever thinks women are the weaker sex needs to spend one day with these ladies. I personally would not mess with them--and I was the youngest of the bunch at 41 (the oldest being 83 and the average being around 65!)! Oh, and did I mention that our captain was a 28-year-old woman?! She handled the Cuan Law (and all of us as well as her crew) with just the right combination of encouraging nudges and decisive commands. I'm pretty sure if Somali pirates tried to board in the middle of the night, she would have single-handedly taken care of the situation without waking us from our happy slumber. (And maybe she did just that!)

But the highlight for me was traveling with my mom. At 67, she's still as active as she was at 37 (and probably at 27 but since I wasn't born yet, I can't confirm as much). There's nothing she won't do or try to do (she was even game for sleeping outside on the top deck, under the full moon and stars) which makes picking a travel destination (and its associated activities) very easy. Plus, she has a wicked sense of humor and always has me belly laughing. And I love to laugh.

All the ladies had life stories that were fascinating. Some had triumphs over tragedies or found hope amongst chaos. Others had courage to face all odds or summoned the strength to beat them. Ten of the 19 were childfree by choice, like me--a fact that was noted by us early on. These women made a decision to go against the grain in a time when it was even more unusual to do so than it is for me today. The common denominator in the group was smarts. Nurses, Ph.Ds, school of hard knocks, business owners, teachers, engineers, zoologists...even the dive instructor, Maddy, went to college to get a degree in diving. No one sloughed off in life. And no one made excuses.

I'm not saying that these women were perfect. There were a few that definitely displayed some wacky insecurities and a couple of others that were downright pains in the ass. But even so, I could see that those quirks were the side effects of a lifetime of fighting to be seen and heard at home or in the workplace. I'm okay with that. Survival sometimes leaves scars.

One of the strange side effects of living on water for such an extended period of time is landsickness--the opposite of seasickness. After rocking and swaying for seven days on the boat, stepping onto solid land confused my mind and scrambled my sense of balance as much as the first few hours on the boat did. Only landsickness seems to have lasted a little longer. It's been four days since I left the undulating water and my mind still awakes in the morning thinking its on the Cuan Law. I open my eyes and the room spins a bit. I don't try to reconcile things when it does though. Instead, I take a deep breath and let the waves of sailboat memories and the women who star in them--especially my mom--wash over me one more time.

[slideshow]

Things I Love: GapingVoid.com

I've been following Hugh MacLeod for a while now. A long time, actually. So long that I don't remember how I was introduced to him. I subscribe to his daily "newsletter," which isn't so much a newsletter in my opinion. And that's why I like it. He simply sends out one of his cartoons and some thoughts as to what is behind it--usually stemming from some interaction he's had with a company/client or an observation of the marketplace. Generally short and sweet with a powerful punch. I highly recommend it and you can sign up for it here. Full disclosure: I don't know the man, have never met him, and am not being paid for this. The cartoon above arrived in my inbox last week with this from Hugh:

What determines who we are? Is it that we settle? What is good enough? Do we find happiness? How do all of these things shape who we are?

Our "potential" is infinite. As endless as the cosmos. We are endowed with the power, ability, and opportunity.

What gets in the way of our potential? Lack of drive? Lack of interest? Distractions? More likely: not knowing what [we] really want.

More than ever, we live in a world where on a personal level, nearly anything is possible. We ARE the sum total of our choices, and these choices should lead us to happiness.

I've always thought that a key to happiness is aligning what you want with what you are willing to do to get it.

We're not talking morality, we are talking your appetite for 16-hour work days, travel, ass-kissing, office politics, screaming kids, etc.

If you can live in that sweet spot of doing and getting what you want, you are living your potential.

And, your potential is all about being happy.

When I read what Hugh wrote, two things stood out for me: 1) we are the sum of our choices and 2) happiness is aligning what you want with what you are willing to do to get it.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I am a preacher of taking responsibility for one's actions. When I quit my Corporate America job six years ago to pursue a new life path, I can't tell you how many people said to me, "Man, I wish I could do that." And when I told them they could--all it takes is a strict budget and clear priorities--they looked at me like I was nuts. Nothing flummoxes Americans more than suggesting they account for their money and their lives.

What I wanted was to be a writer and artist with a stable financial foundation. So that is what I worked toward. I worked my butt off in a corporate job for 13 years and saved every penny I could. I didn't have cable TV (still don't). I didn't have an iPhone or anything else that started with an i (still don't). I didn't have a fancy car (still don't) or expensive clothes (still don't). I rarely ate out (still don't) and hardly ever took in a movie (still don't). I never once felt like these were sacrifices and I don't wish for them now. Along the way I picked up one hella fella who has provided unconditional support and has been my biggest cheerleader. We've both heavily invested in each other emotionally and financially which has allowed us to take chances and pursue dreams EVERY SINGLE DAY while living in that "sweet spot" Hugh talks about. So am I my potential?

Well, let me answer it this way: I am the happiest I've ever been in my life...and every day I seem to be happier than the previous.

I think Hugh would be proud of me.

Demo Papers

[slideshow] These are a few of the marbled papers that came out of the marbling demo I did for the South Pasadena Arts Crawl a few weeks ago. I really like some of them (and some I can tell I was distracted when making them!).

It's funny how it can take a few days for me to really appreciate what I've created. I love marbling for its instantaneous results--lay down paint, do your design, lay down paper, pull up paper, viola!--but the downside is that because I can do upwards of 30 papers in a full-day session, the pieces whiz by and become a blur. It's not like I'm a machine cranking out work without a thought, however. After a piece comes off the tank, I do study it--how do the colors look, did the design turn out, what is the bath doing to the paint? But at this point, it's mostly technical appreciation...and then I'm on to the next piece making adjustments or trying something new based on what I just learned.

It's not until after I've torn down the studio, after all the papers have dried, after they have sat under heavy Davey Board for a few days, after they are brought in and laid out on my inside studio table that I really see them in a bigger artistic context. My eyes linger over each piece and I begin to appreciate them for the fine art that they are. I envision how they would be best displayed (which side is up!), if I would use the whole sheet or just parts of it, and how I would frame it (to mat or not to mat?). I look at the pieces over and over again and fall deeper in love with my work each time. Eventually, after five or six days, I force myself to sort them (by size and paper type) and put them away with the rest of my creative inventory in big, flat files designed specifically for large papers.

But then a week will go by and I'll find myself digging through my inventory, pulling pieces out that I am particularly fond of, and the love affair kicks in again. That's usually what inspires me to set up the marbling tank and begin the whole process all over again.

It's a nice cycle to be caught up in.

Water Month

This month I will be spending a lot of time near water, on water, or in water so I thought it appropriate that my masthead coordinated with my activities. The colors and the strokes make this piece look, feel, and move like the ocean to me.

I wish I could tell you how I made this design. Truth is, it happened at the very end of a marbling session, with very little paint left, and a very shallow bath of well used size. At this point, I'm physically exhausted and mentally spent. I have a vague recollection of making this piece and admiring it after pulling it from the bath, but I was also ready TO BE DONE with the day. I just wanted to get everything cleaned up so I could sit down to a nice glass of wine and a hearty meal and rest my weary self. It wasn't until I looked at it a few days later that I really took to the design. By then, of course, I couldn't remember how I did it. Oh, well...just another "happy accident" in the marbling world.

Conflicted

I can't decided if I like this piece or if I think it's cheesy.

Thoughts?

Bridging the Gap

The creative life of a marbler is similar to that of a writer--work is usually done in solitude. It's just the marbler, her tank, and her paints surrounded by lots of wet paper. We like it that way. That being said, I have never met a group of artists so vocal about process. Ask a room full of marblers (or a message board full of marblers) one seemingly simple question about marbling and you will have a day's worth of insightful discussion. Easily. (Ask about red paint and it will be a week-long conversation.) There are, of course, those who keep their mouths clamped tight, but for the most part, I am always impressed with how generous marblers are in the sharing of their knowledge (especially considering the historically secretive nature of the art form).

I would give anything to have another marbler living near me. There are not a lot of us out there to begin with and those that are are spread all over the world. There are many miles between us. On top of that, marbling is not an art form that is granted permanent displays at museums (and very rarely is it given a temporary one even). My opportunity to see other works of marbled art is limited to websites or books. And while that satisfies me briefly, there is nothing like seeing and holding a marbled piece in person. NOTHING. I cannot tell you how many people who see a marbled piece I've posted online and then see it real-time comment, "Oh, my! That's not what I expected at all!" Marbling is one of those art forms that truly needs to be experienced firsthand to be fully appreciated.

Late December, I was feeling particularly isolated in my work and was overcome with a desire to be with other marblers--but short of hiring my own private plane and jet setting around the world, I knew it wasn't going to happen. That's when the idea of a paper swap popped into my head. For those who don't know what that is, a swap is where you are given the mailing addresses of a list of people who want to participate in the swap and you send one marbled piece to each of them. In return, each person on the list sends you one piece.

I posted the paper swap idea on the marbling board and immediately got 10 enthusiastic and delightful artist from all over the world--Israel, Australia, the UK, Canada, each coast of the US and in between-- wanting to participate! I was so excited.

And then the papers started to roll in.

Exhilarating. Beyond my wildest dreams. Electrifying. Intoxicating. When I held in my hand the first piece that arrived in the mail, I was nearly moved to tears. And then the next one came in and it took my breath away. And then the next one and the one after that and up until the very last piece...envelope after envelope delivered one beautiful piece of art after another until all I could do was shake my head in wonder and awe. As each piece arrived, I studied it like any true enthusiast, holding it close to absorb the details and then afar for perspective, exploring the surface, turning it over to see the original paper, again and again until I knew each piece so intimately, I felt obligated to buy it a drink. The papers also came with a brief history of the artist--how and when he or she got into marbling, the type of bath and paints used, favorite paper to work on. After reading these stories and picking up the papers again, they began to take on a life of their own, vibrating with their creators' energies. It. Was. Spectacular.

All the papers posted here are from that swap. Not one is my own work. They are, however, proudly displayed in my studio, a mini-exhibit of sorts, granted permanent status in my very own museum dedicated to the art of marbling. I'm so sorry most of you can't experience these firsthand...but I am grateful to have at my fingertips such treasures to reach for the next time I need a marbling fix.

Many, many thanks to the artists who participated, for making the time to do it, for being curious about the work of others, and for bridging the gap between us. You are a source of inspiration and fuel my passion for marbling.

Be Open

Since the beginning of the year, I've been operating under the banner, "BE OPEN." It wasn't so much a New Year's resolution as it was a shift in attitude--a decision to make a concerted effort to act upon ideas that, to me, seemed daunting or scary or downright nuts and to do so WITHOUT EXPECTATIONS and WITHOUT JUDGEMENT. It's that last part that is the hardest for me. I lean toward grand expectations. I have a tendency to judge. I know it's not good for me and yet I do it anyway. Sort of how I deal with a bag of Lay's potato chips--I know I shouldn't eat the whole thing and then I do. Some habits are just too salty-good hard to break.

On the surface, these ideas may not seem as intimidating or wacky as I make them out to be, and, in fact, when I share them with other people they usually elicit excited words of encouragement and support. But deep down, when I take my first steps in acting upon these ideas, I am a swirling mess of self-doubt of apocalyptic proportion. I just KNOW they are going to fail or backfire or disappoint or they suddenly become stupid ideas to begin with--which then sends me into a "I CAN'T DO THIS! WHO DO I THINK I AM?!" tailspin that usually involves a lot of sulking accompanied by aforementioned bag of Lay's potato chips. I needed something to take the edge off, preferably something non-salty and low-cal. A mantra of sorts seemed a good fit.

Without trying to sound too dramatic (but it's going to sound that way anyway), these simple two words, BE OPEN, have brought me nothing but good fortune, fascinating opportunities, and exciting experiences. I'm not saying my life has been a constant surge of uplifting moments and boundless luck with an Aaron Copeland score playing in the background, but I am saying that when the worrywart and pessimist in me rears their ugly heads, BE OPEN is the tool I use to stuff them back into their jack-in-the-boxes. It has allowed me to move forward with not only confidence, but with joy as well. I actually look forward to doing "scary" and "downright nutty" things on a daily basis now.

In all honesty, I knew if I stopped judging myself and my ideas and stopped boxing things in with expectations, there would be a positive change in my life. But what I didn't expect, and why I am talking about it now (yes, I'm finally getting to the point of this post), is BE OPEN has also contributed to a delightful BURST of CURIOSITY and UNINHIBITED EXPLORATION. I'm not sure why these two have been a little quiet around me the past year but right now, I feel like I'm four-years-old again and the whole world is new to me. The multiple mes in my head are constantly talking: "Hey, look at that!" "I wonder if I did this..." "Huh, what's going on here?" "Oh, that's different...and so beautiful!" "Let's try this and see what happens."

Nothing bolsters creativity like curiosity. No one is more interesting to be around than someone who is receptive. BE OPEN is fueling new ideas and taking old ones to new levels. It's exposing me to new encounters with interesting people and building deeper relationships with those already in my circle. It's forcing me to see new ways of doing old things and giving me new opportunities to consider.

I'm on a roll with only a vague idea of where I'm heading...and I couldn't be happier.