So....we hope you call the gallery or email us to let us know.
The pieces are fantastic! Take a look and read about each piece!
Great details of a hanging heart. If any of you know about Kim's wonderful work, you will know her unique style...a wonderful piece!
This piece is getting lots of action! Of course we know why...it's a wonderful piece!
“The F Word”
My correspondent sent an alphabet list complete with words…25 potential ideas. I say 25 because she didn’t list a word for the letter “F.” I choose to fill in the blank, and since my thinking this year has included “forests” and “fire,” I was on a path.
This is a charming little piece. I'm keeping my eye on this one.
After reading the poem that Jo Warren sent me I knew I had to visually communicate the concept of holding light. After all that is what we Photographers do. Another part of her writing spoke of memory and became an important part of this piece. It was the memory aspect that made me decide to use my son as the human element in the image I created. My hope was not only to show the viewer of the work a captured moment, but to also create a memory that would stick with my son for the rest of his life. The piece is supposed to represent a camera. The lens is actually a part from an old photo enlarger. The image is a combination of five different images.
So much of my life and I would imagine that of Jo's as well, has been spent in special moments with a camera, capturing light. It is a time of focus and purity. This piece is an attempt to share that.
Thank you for your interest in this piece. I’m a working artist of twelve years living now in Salt Lake City. Recently I’ve begun to integrate my life and personal meditation practice as well as my other profession, hypnosis into my artwork. In meditation, there are voices with exciting messages which I forget by lunchtime. In my life, there are signs and symbols for guidance if I choose to open my eyes. In hypnosis, my clients speak profound truths and pain. These things swirl around, dance and land. Combine, recombine. I stare and stare at the patterns, wishing for more direct information. I could unstitch these pieces and look inside…..
The World At Large And The World At Large Within
11" x 11"x 1"
Old fruit box end with pressed painted aluminum, pigment, beeswax
After reading Doug's letter, I begin to think about the way art opens worlds to us, makes us think about our own world differently and allows us to expose our vulnerabilities.
"This tumble of stuff represents the welter of existence out of which art climbs, the rag and bone shop of this heart." W.B.Yeats (1865 – 1939). We read to know we are not alone. We make art to aide in our human struggle - - to make sense of this existence and to share experiences of our humble attempts at doing so.
As an artist, much of my time is spent observing, creating and reflecting in the solitude of my studio. Annually the 100 artist show creates an opportunity for artist to create and reflect together in collaboration. This year’s show pushed that collaborative element as written communication an interaction between paired artists was used as a source of project development. My partnered artist was Robert Schlegel. We found a common interest (his historical, mine geographical) in the majestic Puget Sound in Washington. Traditionally I favor a very “hot” pallet and rarely include water as a subject matter. However, after Roberts and my correspondence I felt compelled to accept the challenge of a cooler pallet to depict the waters of the Puget Sound from one of my favorite views off Harstine Island.
Joni Ulman Lewis
The piece I received in the mail from Joni Lewis had postage stamps stitched on one side of a thin piece of paper. Around the four stamps was another stitched line, creating a frame. On the back of this sheet of paper, the stitches created two simple rectangles. This was the side from which I ultimately drew inspiration. I loved the simplicity and minimalistic quality. I loved that it was clearly the wrong side, but yet so quiet and beautiful. So I chose it.
For my response piece, Invitation, I wanted to create a simple surface with the same kind of quality. It would have layers. It would have order and atmosphere. It would be minimal in color usage, but include text. To do this, I would need woodworking help. (Thanks, Phil.)
Invitation includes stitching, acrylic paint and bits from a card a friend sent when I lived abroad. The stitching is chaotic with lots of angles, adding texture but remaining abstract lines. The paint atop the stitches creates a field of atmospheric white. Onto this white “space,” I added three rectangles. They float slightly above the rest of the painting as remnants of handwriting bleeds through their surface. The rectangles scale in relation to the whole is small, like the rectangles in Joni’s sheet of paper. These shapes also counter the chaotic nature of the stitches since they are precisely placed, matching in size, and suggest form.
I worked with text as well. Separate wooden cards can be chosen and inserted, each with a single word that invites reflection. A word can be repeated three times, or three different words can be inserted. This can change the piece slightly depending on which words modify the surface.
I am quite happy with the end result. It has some unplanned aspects that add depth such as the sound of the wood sliding into place, the reference to simple imagery, and the repetition of threes. But mainly, it has the peaceful feeling I envisioned from the start.
No need to even say anything about this piece....it stands for itself! Beautiful work Sue-Del.
I had a pen pal.
My artist- pen pal, Beth Robinson, sent a lovely letter telling of her first pen pal, an older girl in Northern Canada. They exchanged stories and paper cut outs ... and eventually lost touch. Beth wondered, " why they ever stopped writing?" She continued to work on paper cutting and sent me a beautiful white bird that is on the back of this painting. "We never met " is the bubble floating through the painting. The delicious mystery of a pen pal is knowing someone through letters and imagination, perhaps never meeting but being connected by conversations made by hand.
Carol's work has been in all of our 100 Artist shows and she never let's us down. Amazing work.
The fact that I decided to make a quilted piece for this show may surprise some people who know me as a potter. Lissa’s letter mentions sisters, relationships, cancer and healing.I thought about clay. I thought about making a collage, then I thought about sewing photo’s together which led to the idea of doing a quilted piece. I took a quilting workshop once many years ago and the basics stayed with me. I wanted to concentrate on the relationship between sisters-specifically my own sister and myself, so this is where the imagery comes from. The quilting and sewing represents healing, and caring and all the other warm thoughts that go with a blanket. I’m hoping the images are a bit more edgy and show that the sister relationship while close can be shaky. I made two pieces and decided the messier, imperfect one was best.
Dave (nic) Nichols
“flip/flop” oil and pencil on canvas sized with rabbit skin glue 12 x 12”
My artist ‘partner’ Alison O’Donoghue sent me a paper with a note on one side and a wonderful sketch on the other. The sketch is, I think, a word rendered in ink and watercolor, though I haven’t figured out what the word (or words) might be.
“flip/flop” is a response to the shapes and colors in her sketch and my feeling that her letters(?) might be flipped over.
Sandra (sloy) Nichols
“epitaph” for Antonio Greco.
ink, acrylic & rabbit skin glue on canvas. 12 X 12”
On October 25th, 2011 Vernazza, Italy, home to my paired artist,
Antonio Greco, was struck by torrential rains and massive flooding,
burying the village and Antonio’s gallery under a million square feet
of mud. Although work continues to this day to restore Vernazza,
the damage remains so extensive that only by day is one allowed in to
the town. Antonio’s letter to me was buried in that mud. What you
see here is a copy of what he was to send. Translated from his Italian
in my painting it reads:
“He grew old looking for her in wandering memories. For her name
he would never know.”
My partner sent me the following: "The things that we make, make us"
These words inspired me to return to a subject that I am very fond of, and that is depicting the fields around the city I call home. The fields outside of Independence is where my family began "making" a life for us many years ago. Working the fields is how my family first arrived here, and I am grateful to be able to draw inspiration from these same fields.
The concept for this piece began with the phrase I received from the artist I was assigned, Melanie Weston.
Color and texture are an essential component in my work. I am always investigating new materials and techniques. This adds interest and creates depth or three dimensional qualities to the work, in which surface plays a key role.
I love to experiment with new materials and for the past several years have been using materials associated with “Traditional Women’s Crafts”. Yarns, fabric, threads, reed and beads are used with paint, dyes and found objects to blend together traditional crafts forms associated with women but with a contemporary more painterly approach.
I am a production jeweler with designs based on cartoon drawings from my sketchbook. The letter I received from my paired artist was a sweet Langston Hughes poem. At the time I was fixated on a song by the hip hop artist Lil'Wayne. I decided to make a piece with the two men using spoken word in communication with each other. Much to my surprise I actually found a blog forum debating the merits of each and who was a better writer. After many attempts and a canvas full of words that was not working, I made the critical choice to stay in familiar territory and painted a mailbox as an icon of an era gone by. So there are many layers to this mailbox, both conceptually and literally.
I received a lovely missive from my pen pal, Dayna. She told me words and poetry inspired her. The body of her letter contained several “favorite lines” from poems. One line, in particular, called out to me. It was, “the words are no longer inside me.”
I felt a connection to the phrase because it so aptly described how I feel when I complete a painting. The mood, emotion, dream or other catalyst, which impelled me to create, simply vanishes once the message is on the canvas.
This little painting on panel is made of hundreds of copies of the phrase, “The words are no longer inside me,” which I handwrote on lined, yellow paper. I tore them to shreds, collaged them on the board and then applied glazes of acrylic paint so the words would seem to pass through the little person into the world.
I love the cyclical nature of this project. A stranger becomes a pen pal. The penned letter becomes an inspiration. The concept becomes a concrete object. The object returns to the Gallery to inspire more creativity and wonder in the world.
I was very excited when I received my letter so I took my time to slowly look over all the elements of it. The first inspiration was on the back of the envelope where I found the number 85 printed twice once right side up and then right next to it again upside down. I began thinking about duality and it grew as I read Betsy's letter. I was imagining her writing in the past while I was reading. She had asked several questions which sent me researching while also thinking if she had already found the answers. I enjoyed playing with the dichotomy from this simple letter. The idea that as distinct and immaterial substances of this object (a letter) and phenomena (the words on the page that carried ideas and questions) that we perceive in the world are nothing more than mere shadows.
Meg has been trying to talk me into bidding on this piece. She thinks it;s her boyfriend. Pretty good taste Meg!
Here's a bit about this piece....
They say if you have enough twine you can have a ball. I didn’t have that much, but I still got wound up, or perhaps strung along, by Stephanie’s entwining lines of words, tying together some loose ends, and maybe some lost friends.
Below is the letter from Stephanie Brockway to Thomas Rude
Can I trust myself to be profound?
To say something great, possibly
even inspire? I can only be myself.
An ever changing being, confident,
brash, passive and meek……
slowly unraveling like a ball of
twine. until there are only two ends,
one in your hand the other in mine,
connected by circumstance.
The space between us winding tight
as we discover what the other has
Dyk ner, dyk upp
1 month ago