I’m almost finished cutting this out.. I just need to rework the central design since I’ve been changing things as I go. I’ve got the colors picked out and will start on that soon (that’s the most time consuming part).
This Saturday, I’ll be exhibiting at the Oktoberfest in my hometown of Atchison, KS. It’s always a nice little show. I’ll be doing a quick run of new prints and cards for that shortly. I’m looking forward to getting out with my camera afterwards to try to catch some of the fall colors. I’ve been watching leaves fall from the trees to the ground as I sit at my desk.
This morning I went for my usual run on the river levy. The sun was bright (almost blindingly so), and there was a mist sitting about 6 feet off the ground in the grassy areas, and together, the sun and the mist illuminated an amazing network of cobwebs, appearing as if the entire field was woven together. The dew on everything was sparkling bright which brought lots of my attention to all different kinds of plants growing alongside the trail.. The entire scene inspired my next paper cutting idea. Can’t wait to start on it.
I took these photos during my first autumn back in Kansas in 2009.. I’m guilty of saying that every season is my favorite season at the turning of each, but when I boil it down, autumn really is the one I feel the closest connection with for various reasons. I picked up a mountain bike today — looking forward to exploring my trails further on my non-running mornings, especially now that the trees are really starting to turn.
Autumn Movement
by Carl Sandburg
I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,
the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things
come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go,
not one lasts.
This evening I went to the Lied Center at the University of Kansas to see Ragamala Dance: Sacred Earth. From the Lied Center: Ragamala Dance brings the sensibility of mysticism and sanctity of the 2,000-year-old Indian dance form, bharatanatyam, to the contemporary stage. By interfacing choreography with live Indian music and the visual traditions of kolams and Warli paintings, Sacred Earth celebrates body and nature, and soul and earth. It was really enjoyable. The Warli paintings that they used as backdrops are monotone and have a very similar quality to traditional paper cuttings.
The Lied Center sits on a hill and I had a perfect view of the sunset to the west and the moonrise to the east as I was going in. My iphone pic doesn’t do any justice – the sunsets lately have been really spectacular. And an FYI: tomorrow, Sept. 29, is the harvest moon.
‘Twas a morning coated with fog. The trees are turning and the gray skies make a perfect backdrop to bring out the vibrant reds and oranges. I went for my usual run, and because of the fog, I could only see a little ways ahead and a little ways behind. I didn’t even realize I was approaching my mid-mark until I was almost upon it. Today I stopped at that mark and ventured down the hill past the tree line to explore whatever might lay behind. I found myself in a circular meadow between the trail and the river naturally fenced in by trees with lots of tall grasses dotted with yellow wildflowers and queen anne’s lace. I sat on the ground and the tall grasses came over the top of my head. The fog creating a light haze and obscuring views of anything past the immediate scene made it all very dreamlike. I stayed for as long as I could.
I was reading about mandalas and art therapy this morning and came upon this experimental video by Andrew Huang on the Art Therapy Blog, who describe it as a ‘visual and philosophical journey’. Sounded up my alley. Check it out, it is totally insane.
I consistently go back to William Stafford’s poetry. I’ve posted this before, but here it is again..
A Ritual To Read To Each Other
by William Stafford
If you don’t know the kind of person I am
and I don’t know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.
For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dyke.
And as elephants parade holding each elephant’s tail,
but if one wanders the circus won’t find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.
And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider–
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.
For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give–yes or no, or maybe–
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.
“‘Men have forgotten this truth,’ said the fox. ‘But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.'” -Antoine de Saint-Exupery
I was reading a little Antoine de Saint-Exupery earlier and remembered this paper cutting I did a very long time ago –sometime in 2008, I think. If you can’t tell, it’s supposed to be a fox jumping between two hands. The background was part cut paper, part coffee stains, part photoshop coloring. I wish I could achieve that look using only paper — maybe one of these days I’ll do some experimenting and figure it out. Anyway, “The Little Prince” is one of my all time favorite books. Even though I had my first copy when I was a kid, I didn’t ‘get it’ until I reread it a few years ago. Here’s a few more quotes from Saint-Exupery:
“A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”
“True love begins when nothing is looked for in return.”
“In giving you are throwing a bridge across the chasm of your solitude.”
“That is the hardest thing of all. It is much harder to judge yourself than to judge others. If you succeed in judging yourself, it’s because you’re truly a wise man.”
“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
“What he had yearned to embrace was not the flesh but a down spirit, a spark, the impalpable angel that inhabits the flesh.”
“Behind all seen things lies something vaster; everything is but a path, a portal or a window opening on something other than itself. ”
“I know but one freedom, and that is the freedom of the mind.”
And here’s one more quote, one of my very first paper cuttings that I made when I was still cutting on a piece of wood.. These old ones are some of the most meaningful to me. I still have them.
I took these photos during my first autumn back in Kansas in 2009.. I’m guilty of saying that every season is my favorite season at the turning of each, but when I boil it down, autumn really is the one I feel the closest connection with for various reasons. I picked up a mountain bike today — looking forward to exploring my trails further on my non-running mornings, especially now that the trees are really starting to turn.
This evening I went to the Lied Center at the University of Kansas to see Ragamala Dance: Sacred Earth. From the Lied Center: Ragamala Dance brings the sensibility of mysticism and sanctity of the 2,000-year-old Indian dance form, bharatanatyam, to the contemporary stage. By interfacing choreography with live Indian music and the visual traditions of kolams and Warli paintings, Sacred Earth celebrates body and nature, and soul and earth. It was really enjoyable. The Warli paintings that they used as backdrops are monotone and have a very similar quality to traditional paper cuttings.
