What are you doing this weekend?

Oh, the first weekend in December—always so many things to do... And I never get to go to any of them! But that's okay—it'll be better where I am. So I'm taking this moment right now to invite you personally to join me. Yes you. Please come.

This weekend is ArtSpace Maynard's annual Holiday Sale. I'm part of the organizing team, and I can tell you that we've put so much into making this event be more diverse and creative than ever before.

Forty-six artists will be showing their varied works. How varied? Well, you know I'm good for the hats, but we also have a woman who makes giant garden leaves out of cast cement, painters, book binders, jewelers, potters, enamelists, fiber artists, and some that are so cool and hard to explain that I won't even try. Suffice it to say that it's going to be a really cool show.

I've been not only working on things to keep your head warm, but also on head adornment so you can make a fantastic entrance into a holiday gathering. There's nothing like a hat to bring out a smile in people—trust me.

So pardon me for getting you such late notice—I've been so busy making things. But I do hope you'll consider a drop in. Coming the first day will get you the best selection, but there will be loads of things to take home and wrap.

The sale runs Friday–Sunday, but the hours are different each day, so pay attention. Friday, December 2nd, 5-8 p.m., Saturday, December 3rd, 12–5 p.m., and Sunday, December 4th, 12–4 p.m.
63 Summer St., Maynard Massachusetts. There's a parking lot in the back of the building accessed by Concord St.

New Title

The new/old painting I'm trying to finish has a new title—I think. I'm calling it, "I Never Smoked a Cigarette".

Back to the Painting

Some of you may have been watching as I worked my way through, into, and around a painting that I started back in June/July. I'm sure I mentioned that I get these bursts of creative energy, during which time I feel a strong urge to make something other than a hat. Usually that urge lasts four to seven days, and during that time I need to make and complete what's whirling around in my brain. For some reason, if I don't finish in that time, the piece just won't work—the story changes, the images become irrelevant to me, the whole thing just stops making sense and falls flat. And that's what happened with this piece. But I'm stubborn, and I don't like to start something new until I've finished what's already been started. So, difficult as it was, I kept banging my head against this piece trying to make it "move".

I haven't posted anything about it for a while because the struggle was too much for me to share. A couple of times I thought about throwing the whole thing in the trash—that would have forced me to let go of it—but some friends in an artists'salon that I attend encouraged me to keep going. I'll be seeing them again tomorrow, and that, combined with the urge to create, has brought be back to the painting with more energy. I'm trying to finish it.

I'm including in this post images of how the image shifted as I worked—layers on top of layers, the "story" changing with each window of time that I was able to work on it. Things that seemed important often got covered up, other things got moved around, new images came in.

From the Salon I got two really good ideas that helped me move forward. When the piece was over all visually too loud, Steve Bogart suggested painting the whole thing with a thin layer of brown so that I could figure out what was really important to me. Somebody else, not sure who, asked if there were any part of the painting that I actually liked. There was a strip. It was suggested that I somehow divide it from the rest of the piece, maybe with a line or something. That made sense to me. So you'll see that at some point, I took a knife and cut a section off.

I think that's saying enough for now, but looking at all of these images, it's always a wonder to even me—how does one get from point 'a' to point 'v'? Art is a gamble, a terrifying process of fits and spurts. I never know quite where I'll end up.

Two Minutes of Spitting

I'm sorry, but I can't help but post this. It's about my daughter and how cute I think the now-three-year-old is—and that always seems a little cliché. Still, I'm going to post it.

At the end of the summer she was learning how to spit. If you think you want to watch two minutes of spitting, be my guest. If you want to ignore me, please do.

The next day she actually got it. Her dad told her that what she needed to do was say the word "two".

For the record, what I've asked her to say is, "I'm spitting in the sinK."