Labor of Love

 I knew I wanted to purchase a longboard for Jake's Christmas present, ever since he mentioned that it'd be nice to have one to get around campus. But I knew absolutely nothing about longboards and an Amazon search yielded so many options! All different woods, shapes, lengths... and then there was a whole new lingo to learn: the tail, wheels, trucks... It was overwhelming, but my only other option was too lame to pursue (Target giftcard, anyone?).

I was willing to invest in it, since I'd set a solid Christmas budget this year. So I called Jake's best friend Alex for some help and he sent me a ton of links and recommendations. At the top of his list was a blank board, "You could totally personalize it with wood-burning or paint if you wanted, which would be sick!" Sold!

The next hurdle though was what to paint? I had to think in terms of the right picture as well as feasibility. (Fun fact: I considered a similar endeavor for Mr. Jake back in 2008 or 2009 involving a dragon painting on the underside of a skateboard. But my ideas back then weren't fully developed and I wouldn't even know how to paint a legitimate dragon.) I thought and thought, what image sums up Jake's personality? Calvin and Hobbes!

Finding this picture on the internet solidified my decision:

It was so perfect! So I bought some brushes and acrylic paint at Michaels (my first time using this medium) and set to work. First I sketched out the drawing on newsprint in pencil and then sharpie.

Then I traced the back of the sharpie in pencil and transferred it to the board.

Then it was painting time! The sketching and transferring took me about an hour and a half and then I painted the board in three sessions, each an episode of Sherlock (mostly reruns). I wasn't really happy with the first layers of green because the medium was quite foreign to me and it wasn't turning out like my picture. So I didn't take a picture of it. But as I got into the second layer, it really started to take shape.

Once I added in a few more layers of color, it really started to shine! The black was truly the finishing touch on the piece and it made a HUGE difference!

I had my doubts in the beginning, but at the end of the day, I really couldn't have been happier with the outcome!

Merry Christmas Jake!

Art Class Photo-Progression

One of my early sketches

 When I walked into the first art class at Tucson Parks and Rec, I wasn't sure what to expect. I wasn't expecting the teacher to tell me to "just draw" for three hours with the still-lifes she had set up. But that's what I did for the first two weeks. I think I expected her to give some sort of mini-lecture and then give us the opportunity to practice it. Instead, she wandered around the room, commenting on people's drawings or works in progress that they'd brought. When she got to my table, she said, "Oh you're a very good drawer..." and meandered away, leaving my alone for the rest of the class. 

Day 1: Chives

Dear Chives,

You are so beautiful.

Love,

Misha

I know I said I wasn't going to post pictures every day, and that's exactly what I intended! But this morning's photos came out so nicely that I couldn't resist posting them today!

The prompt for today was "flower" and I'd originally meant to photograph some stunning cacti flowers I saw down the street a day or so ago, but when I went out this morning, they were all closed up and droopy! I've learned my lesson and next time I see something like that catches my attention like that, I will photograph it right then instead of waiting.

Nonetheless, I'm pleased with my "backup choice" of Mama's chives. I've been admiring them for awhile because they remind me so much of dandelions (or Truffala trees), but never stopped to take their picture until now. 

Life and Art: Part 2

I recently found this email written to Jake and the sentiments expressed still ring so true in my heart today. Especially with my new insights on my purpose. The desire to create things, to live life artfully has never compelled me so much as now.

On Wed, Apr 17, 2013 at 10:16 AM, Misha Tyler wrote:

I read this in a book (called Ascent of a Leader) for school this morning:

"Let them remember there is meaning beyond absurdity. Let them be sure that every little deed counts, that every word has power, and that we can--every one--do our share to redeem the world in spite of all absurdities and all frustrations and all disappointments. And above all, remember that the meaning of life is to build a life as if it were a work of art." -Rabbi Abraham Heschel

The chapter goes on to describe a painting that from up close appears to be a collection of random splatters of paint that don't make any sense. But as you step back and look at the bigger picture, you begin to see that it's an actual image. It relates it back to real life saying, 

"...though life may appear random, even ugly from up close, if you have the right perspective and distance, you can see beauty. Compelling beauty. Breathtaking beauty. Even though the subject matter is common enough--ordinary people living ordinary lives-- the hand of the Master is at work.

"Each life is a work of art, created with living, breathing paints with a will of their own. We actively participate in the process of our own making. We sometimes get glimpses into the Master's purpose as we see the brush strokes in our lives come together. But from day to day it can be difficult to make sense of the seeming absurdities of our own foibles and troubles. We may question the Creator's choice of colors, technique, or materials..." and then it trails off into a vaguely related story. I imagine it should finish something like, "...but in the end, we may see the full picture and perhaps come to an understanding of the Creator's work in our lives." 

...the whole thing spoke to me, personally, and I wanted to share. Especially the idea of living artfully. I love that. And getting so caught up in the day-to-day struggles, you lose sight of the bigger picture. The leadership courses have definitely challenged me to look at the bigger picture of my life and pursue goals and improving character. Otherwise, I feel like I am wasting my weeks--purposelessly drifting along with no end in sight. And that, to me, is the definition of a miserable existence.

Living Artfully (or trying to),

Misha

Why I Create

The other day, I had the opportunity to answer the question, 

"If time and money were no object, what would you rather be doing?" 

 I used to think I would hull up in my own art studio and just create art for all my days. But I'm beginning to think a little differently. I want to travel the world and have adventures, then come back to my space and use my new experiences as fodder to create new works of art. I told my mom, "I don't think I would be content to have a singular experience of the world." 

But the dream doesn't stop there. I would not be satisfied to hoard my time and art all to myself.

I want to give it away.

I realized this: I create in order to give. I write knowing that someone else will read my work. I make things for the people I love all the time: poems and notes and little doodles. I have this blog, very much in part, for your enjoyment, as much as it is mine.

And if that doesn't convince you, maybe mail art will. My mail art days are kind of hard to describe... I think back on them as a wondrous, renaissance-time of my life, in which I used an incredible amount of stamps (which I still ask for for Christmas and birthdays) to send works of art through the postal system. If you'd like to see some of my work, I blogged many pictures over at my mail blog.  

Unfortunately, the responsibilities of my education and work have hindered me from making much mail art lately, but it is something I hope to return to later. Here's how it fits into all this though: I wrote letters and created these beautiful works of art, only to send them off into the world for others to enjoy--not keep them to myself. 

Matt Appling in his book Life After Art talked about this beautiful part of being an artist. He says that children create things in order to give to other people. Children, he argues (and forgive me for not having proper page numbers here), are generous with their art; however many children lose that generosity as they "mature." I think I have always been generous with my art, especially mail art, but I want to continue being generous with my creativity and my art, even when I'm old (and have my own art studio?). 

On the way to church I heard a woman on the radio talking about "celebrating the spirit of Christmas year-round." I'll admit, I scoffed a little bit; it's such a cliche thing to say, I thought. What does that even mean? And how can you remember the "Christmas spirit" when it is not at the forefront of your mind. In the states, one cannot ignore Christmas. It surrounds you with commercialized Santas, snow, increased traffic, and carols blaring at the mall. But one phrase I hear a lot around this time of year is: "It is better to give than to receive." Today, I am applying it to a new context--art, and realizing that maybe that lady on the radio was right: the "Christmas spirit" of giving is something that can be embraced every month of the year, not just December. What does that look like? For me, it means making a whole lot more art and giving it away--to family, friends, loved ones, strangers, anyone. What does it look like for you?

Life After Art

I recently finished Matt Appling's Life After Art: What You Forgot about Faith after You Left the Art Room. It brought back so much nostalgia for me from my elementary school days! Ever since kindergarten, I loved art; it was always my favorite time of the week. Appling repaints these elementary school memories to illustrate his points about what we've forgotten about art and faith since leaving school.

Appling argues that all children are artists, we are all naturally born to create because we are made in God's image and God is a creator. The challenge however, is to remain an artist as you become an adult. He paints a picture of the epidemic of lost creativity that pervades society and a world without beauty. We live our lives with a "good enough" mentality, forsaking excellence and embracing low standards. We limit ourselves and fear failure. But when we overcome these things, we can "remember" the lessons we forgot after we left the art room and embrace our role as creators of beauty wherever we're at in our lives.

Final Thoughts: 

I really enjoyed the book, but I felt that it was not written for me; it was written for a very specific audience--adults who don't necessarily consider themselves "artistic" or "creative" and have experienced what it is like to be in an art room or art class. I think those who have never been in an art class/room (home-schoolers primarily) would have more trouble relating to the imagery Appling draws from to illustrate his points. The creative types (like myself) who pick up the book for its title may find that they already know and practice what Appling has to say about the significance of creativity in our lives and how it relates to our faith in God. 

Artists can definitely appreciate Appling's perspective on art, beauty, and faith in this world, but for us creatives, he's very much "preaching to the choir." But I'd recommend it to other Christians who want to gain a better understanding of the role of creativity in our lives.

Image Credit: Photo by LexnGer used under a Creative Commens attribution-noncommercial license.

The Strangeness of Beauty

"We love you meesh!" Out of the blue, Jake's family shouts into the telephone and hang up. Two tears escape my control and slide down my cheeks. I've been really emotional this morning, and it's not because I watched Rom-Coms with Cameron last night. No, since Mom and Dad are away, I've had a lot of time for reflection this morning. Cameron sleeps late, so the house has been quiet--perfect for some early morning quiet time, a cup of tea in Mama's bed, walking the dog around the block, and thinking about art.

Ah, art.

This morning I was reading in the Psalms, and appreciating the poetry of it all. It turned my thoughts toward acts of worship, especially those acts that please God that are distinctly not corporate worship (Jake and I were just talking about this yesterday!). Now that I am "in college" (rather, out of high school and in this new stage of life that I'm not quite sure how to label), I am reexamining and forging my own beliefs. I don't think my faith has ever been challenged like this before. Now, I must decide, do I really believe this? And if I do, what do I do about it? Some things I've taken for granted; others I have taken for my own. I asked myself, what are the essential truths I believe about God/faith? What is most important to me? What truths are the most integral to my being?

One word came to mind: Purpose. (For the moment, we'll assume that faith in Christ as the only way of salvation is a given.) Some of the most meaningful revelations about God in my life have been about my purpose and identity. As I developed a greater understanding of who I was and what I was meant to do, my love for Him blossomed. I don't need to prove to you the significance of art in my life, for it will reveal itself in due time. But I believe it is inescapably tied to my purpose and identity. I find myself always returning to this beautiful medium; and even when I can’t make time for it, artistry still pervades my thought-life. I consider myself an artist, because I find life beautiful and brimming with meaning.

The title of this post coincides with the title of a book I just finished for school: The Strangeness of Beauty by Lydia Minatoya. In the story, three generations of women, American and Japanese, must overcome their differences and their past in order to live at peace in pre-World War II Japan. Upon reaching the end, I couldn't discern what it was that moved me so much about this story. For the assignment, I have to write about myo (roughly translated "the strangeness of beauty") which the main character Etsuko uses to describe a variety of concepts, ideas, experiences, and relationships in her world.

Then I stumbled upon a study question on The Norton Publishing website:

The Strangeness of Beauty may be seen as two interwoven tales: one a story of character, family, and culture; the other a meditation on how art—literary, visual, culinary, of professionals and amateurs, of kite makers and kimono weavers and housewives—informs and enriches our lives. At what point do these two tales intertwine and how do they culminate in the concept of myo?

I saw the relational story of Etsuko, Chie, and Hanae. I saw the concept of myo within those relationships. But I didn't see how much the book was shaped by the role of art. I realize now, this is what moved me so deeply about the story. It is the intersection of art and relationships--everything I've striven to be.

More to come on this topic. <3 comment-3--="">

Unexpected Art

 

This is just a portion of the poster-sized page!

It's been a long time since I've made any mail art, but today, I was blessed with a little unexpected mail love from Japan!

I used to be a really active mail-artist, but because of my studies, it had to take a backburner to my education. I still try to make art every once in a while, but these creative excursions are few and far between and I don't keep up with any of my old penpals.

This particular missive was not a personal note, but an on-going mail call that I've submitted to in the past. For mail calls or CFEs (Call for Entries), artists send out a call, or request, for artworks usually on a specific theme. These often have certain parameters for genres, sizes, mediums, etc. but most are pretty flexible. This particular one requests hand-carved stamped images and arti-stamps (faux-stamps, another vein of mail art). I submitted a Japanese fish I carved into an eraser a few years ago and he sent back a massive sheet of paper bursting with colorful images and addresses and artistamps. Another such poster graced me today.

I remember the first poster I received from Ryosuke-- it had a lot of stamps of naked ladies, which I thought was weird at the time. Now, it doesn't bother me as much since I am older and have been more exposed to the world. (Some people just like naked ladies, I guess.)

Today, I feel a little more submerged in the mail-art world; I miss it terribly. I have no shortage of materials to work with now. In fact, a few months ago, my cousin Ish sent me a ton of cuttings from discarded National Geographic magazines! Such fantastic images must not go to waste. And I'm sure they will not, but in this season of life, time has been more elusive than ever. In the meantime, I must find other ways to fill my creative needs, until my schooling is finished, but this little surprise in my mail box definitely made me smile!