I put this up on Facebook, but I know some who read this blog don’t do Facebook. So, here’s a link to the article I wrote for the Charlotte Observer about artist Stefan Duncan, whose studio is across from mine at the Charlotte Art League. It came out in the paper on Saturday, May 12. (The subtitle of the article is: “Following a goose’s advice, Stefan Duncan picks up painting and tries capturing hope.” See? Now you have to read it.)
Artist article I wrote
May 16, 2012Pictures of the studio
April 13, 2012
Here's the studio with furniture/work materials in it. You can see a bit of another artist's studio behind the half-wall.
… more
Alleluia!
April 8, 2012
He is risen!
Our choir sang Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus for Easter, both at the Easter Vigil and this morning for Easter Sunday. I’ve listened to it many times, but have never actually sung it. The soprano part isn’t terribly hard (just very high in places), but there is one tripping section I was having trouble with, so I found this YouTube link from the BBC’s “Sing Hallelujah” project, where I could listen to the whole chorus sung by sopranos only. The project also has altos-only, tenors-only and basses-only recordings–and ones where you can hear it with any of those parts missing. It’s really helpful.
I sang the response to the Exodus reading at the Vigil. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. I’ve been getting over a sinus infection for a couple of weeks now. My poor voice made it all the way through the Triduum liturgies, the Vigil, and into Easter Sunday, before it finally gave out and I had to stifle a coughing fit that welled up in the last few bars of the “Hallelujah” today.
Easter always brings me joy.
Easter is also a time when I give myself a break from beating myself up for always falling short of my ambitions. At least for a day.
Speaking of which … in my last post, over a month ago, I said that I’d keep track on my blog of the hours I spent in my studio (the goal is 16 h/month) and writing my fiction (goal is 32 h/month). In March, that tally came to:
March hours spent in studio: 13.5
March hours spent writing fiction: 24.5
So I didn’t quite make it to the goal. I will renew my efforts for April. I’m already behind. So far it’s studio: 0, writing fiction: 4.
In March I completed two monotype collages in my studio. I scanned them–was going to post them here–but the scans didn’t come out too well. When I’m at the Art League on Tuesday, I’ll take pictures.
New studio, new resolve
March 1, 2012
My studio at the Charlotte Art League, still mostly bare.
Starting today, March 1, I begin renting a small (one-fourth size) studio at the Charlotte Art League. I’ll also be taking shifts on Tuesday as a gallery host at the art league, which will give me enough credit there to cover my studio rent.
I’ve wanted to have a studio for years, a place for printmaking and collage. My rental contract stipulates that I must spend 16 hours a month in my studio creating art. When I was in Kansas City, I spent about 12 hours a month in my monotype classes–and I produced more work in those classes than I ever have, before or since.
So I decided that along with spending these 16 hours a month to create art, I will spend 32 hours a month writing fiction. That is my contract with myself, and it begins with March. Art: 16 hours a month. Writing: 32 hours a month. I’m going to keep track of these hours here on my blog.
It’s been a while
February 12, 2012February so far has been something of a blur. I’m still getting over some nasal congestion from the cold I got last week. And from the flu-like thing I had before that. I’ve been sick, or recovering from being sick, for five weeks now. I’m tired; all my great plans for the year are still stalling. Antony says that you make a new beginning each day, and that’s what I have to do.
For a while I couldn’t taste or even breathe through my nose. And because of the flu-like thing I lost my voice and most of my hearing for a while. But my senses are returning. So at last I can cook, and sing. I missed both of those things. Trying to cook without being able to taste; or sing without being able to hear–it’s like writing in the dark. You hope your writing is legible, you’ve formed the words many times, but you can’t check on what you’re doing.
Mom and Dad came to visit last week. It was great to see them. I hope they can come back to Charlotte again soon … we miss them.