» The Screaming Penny

One….Two….3! by Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 16:58:27 +0000

One….Two….3!

by Lorena Bowser

Dawn's First Light - by Lorena Bowser watercolor

That magic number 3 … It has spiritual, practical, and artistic significance. If certain rules of composition are to be believed it even sells paintings. Apparently people relate particularly to objects in threes, therefore a painting that includes three related elements is more likely to appeal to the viewer. Then there is the wonderful knowledge that all the artist needs to create a full palette are blue, red and yellow! When an artist runs out of money for materials, this is good news!

A lot of people are downsizing to simplify their lives and discovering a new-found peace in the process. I laud those who do so just “because.” I do so out of sheer necessity. The term “starving artist,” became ever-more real when I found myself faced with two great opportunities for putting my art “out there,” and no money for materials! I was committed to a portfolio of works (as yet only imagined) that already had a place to show, paid for and reserved, in an important venue where people from all over the United States, and from abroad, were expected to be present – and the months had rolled by with not a single work in progress.

Frustrated with my inability to move past the paintings in my mind and actually realize them, I pulled out a few pieces of left-over art paper, picked through my aging paint brushes and old tubes of paint and did my best to fool myself into thinking I was a working artist. In the process, I ruined a few of the precious remains of paper and tore them up. I had never, ever before in my life as an artist, torn up anything, no matter how unsuccessful! I was trying to paint something that my aging array of materials was not up to. Apparently, neither was I!

My theory that everything has a “fix,” had always kept me in good stead, as I have re-painted, cut and pasted, cropped, and otherwise turned unsuccessful paintings into good art, a few of which numbered among my best works – and sold! Tearing up a painting was a bad sign. All the air had gone out of my “positive balloon,” and that, I did not like at all!

Then I remembered that magic number “3.” If it is such a positive element in our lives, surely I could use it to my advantage and get my art going again. In my stash of dried up paints and half-empty tubes, I found enough red, blue and yellow to create a pallet. I had painted one of my best works this way when I had first begun painting seriously: “Dawn’s First Light”. I would do it again! My three basics were not as nice to each other as in the first painting. I don’t remember which of the many shades of red, blue and yellow I had used then, but this time, my available tubes of paint produced some “serious” colors - gray was dominant! My mood was perhaps partially responsible.

Discouraged, I pushed the unsuccessful painting into a drawer.

I had committed myself to this event and it was approaching all too fast. Something had to be done about my resources, both material and psychological. I decided to make those pennies scream again, and I “pinched” them from my food money to purchased three new, carefully chosen tubes of red, blue and yellow. With a do-or-die attitude, I set out to conquer my gray mood! I’ve always believed that a good artist can use any available material to create a worthy work of art. The artist makes the magic happen. This time it was clearly the materials that made the artist happen. They pulled me out of the gray. With the new paints, my first artwork turned out better than expected,
and I found myself in control again. The result is Kurkikohtaus (Crane Scene).

"Kurkikohtaus" watercolor by Lorena Bowser

My portfolio came together in time for the showing. Kurkikohtaus turned out to be the star of the show, but it was not among the artworks that sold. Those three cranes in the painting may smile on me yet: with further investigation into the mysticism of cranes, I have learned that they have long represented a celebration of life by the Japanese, wisdom by the Greeks and Romans, and throughout all of Asia they are a symbol of eternal youth. If creating three cranes can bring happiness, youth and wisdom, that’s a 1…2…3 success story if I’ve ever heard one!

Lorena Bowser is a lifetime artist and linguist. She has lived all over the world and really knows how to make the pennies scream. Enjoy more of Lorena's resourcefulness at her website and blog: at http://lorenasartandprose.blogspot.com

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Who Cares Anyway! I do! by Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 16:50:10 +0000

Who Cares Anyway! I do!
by Lorena Bowser

On my way to class yesterday while waiting at a stop light, I watched a man on the corner “running in place” lifting his knees all the way up to his chest and bobbing up and down like a cork in water. But there wasn’t any water. I knew that he was warming his leg muscles while stopped for the same light. He was just another health enthusiast out for a jog. I couldn’t help thinking, however, that if I had seen him a few years before jogging had become a common sight on our city streets, I would have thought him crazy. From the back he really looked comical! He, of course, was oblivious to everything around him and probably couldn’t care less that he was somewhat of a public spectacle - nor did anyone else apparently.

Have we all become so uninhibited that the refreshing words anything goes” has become “who cares!” My sense of aesthetics fights continually with my sense of laissez faire as I walk about the streets of my neighborhood. On the one hand, I think it’s great that we have finally arrived at a time in history where people are not instantly criticized for looking, acting, or being different. On the other hand, I’ve realized that beauty and decorum are no longer appreciated as they were before. It’s cool to be different, even if “different” is weird – or downright ugly!

I hold to the belief that the pursuit of excellence is the key to success and to peace of mind. I don’t criticize those who like to be different by pushing the envelope “over the edge” in their dress or behavior, but I have to ask myself if this way of thinking does not actually represent something disturbing about our society.

Excellence in all areas of life, from the mundane to the profound, is apparently no longer worth pursuing. Those proven spirit- and character-builders, the arts and sports, are being eliminated in our schools. Academics are being dumbed down so that more students can “succeed” in their studies, and our public servants can commit heinous acts and still get re-elected. In matters of art, what I see consistently appreciated by more and more galleries is artwork that displays ugly colors and infantile drawings in garish compositions that break all the rules of aesthetics in the name of “free expression.”

This new freedom of expression is actually a protestation of the time-honored and trusted norms that have previously produced some of the greatest artists, musicians and composers – not to mention statesmen - that have ever lived. Why try for excellence after all, when mediocrity is applauded. When a group of people resist this new face of society, they are immediately pegged as “fanatics.” When in truth, it’s the other way around!

I don’t mind someone looking silly when they are out jogging, but when I see no one else looking his way in amusement, a mental image comes to me of thousands of people all over the world dropping whatever they are doing and bobbing in unison like corks in a rushing river - and I wonder where everyone is going….

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Where Peace Meets Beauty – beyond the secular!

LBowser — Thu, 14 Jul 2011 16:46:01 +0000

Where Peace Meets Beauty - beyond the secular!
by Lorena Bowser

Back when pharmacies had soda fountains and comic corners and were a cool
place to hang out…Scary movies were dark, ominous works of art, but didn’t ruin
your sleep, fun was chips of ice from the ice man in summer and globs of clean
tar to chew from the street pavers, love songs were double entendre, but we
were innocent enough to “fall in love” with the obvious, comedians were
side-splitting funny – and clean!, Norman Rockwell's nearly "corny"
but skillful depictions of American life touched us all.

…and life was more peaceful.

But then song writers, cinematographers and comedians just came out with it
- not enough people were getting their subliminal message. Popular music
can now get down and dirty, movies blow people up and throw guts and gore into
your face in real time, pharmacies are “all business,” and the soda
fountain, where kids could order a chocolate coke and hang out with their
friends for hours reading comic books with “real stories,” have bit the
dust! Once the bottle was unstopped, art’s new expression just kept
pouring out more viperous with each turn of the calendar. Human nature is such
that we are never satisfied with the status quo where emotions are
concerned. We seek ever and ever more exciting experiences to keep the
“high” going. The artists of the time know it! – and make plenty of money from
it – literally at our expense. I believe there is a greater “high” that can be
achieved through the arts that withstand the test of time. They touch us more
profoundly, and their influence instills a well-being unrivaled by the
worldly. We “need” great art!

The arts are essential to a healthy society. When they are not
inspired by lofty ideals, they can drag us down instead of lift us up. We
need a return to the spirit of beauty in the arts and good, clean fun in our
lives. When is the last time you laughed spontaneously in sheer joy at
something unexpected that hit your funny bone? Have you ever been at a loss for
words after listening to a great piece of classical music that transports you
beyond the moment? …or to a song that moves you to tears of compassion?
…or seen a work of art that leaves you in awe from the realization that no one
else in the world could ever create its equal?

These are things of beauty, and they’re still there if we look for
them. Beauty is not in the eyes of the beholder: it is an Absolute
accessible to everyone! If you have experienced what I’m talking about, welcome
to my world! …and don’t tell me that beauty does not inspire peace.
I’ve been there!

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When is a signature not a signature….or is it? By Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 16:38:10 +0000

When is a signature not a signature....or is it?
by Lorena Bowser

Sound confusing? I'm talking about signatures
that have nothing to do with signing artwork. It’s all about books! When
I was in France, I worked for a while au pair in a girl’s boarding
school. Besides my reception duties, I had the tedious, but innovative job of
opening new books that arrived periodically for the library. This
American girl, an avid reader, who loved the feel of an elegantly bound hard
cover book, had never given a thought to how books were made, so what was my
surprise to find these new books with every other page, or every four pages, a
fold instead of an edge. While waiting for phone calls, I would whittle
down a stack of newly-arrived books, carefully slicing open each fold
with a knife, until the books were page-turning-worthy and ready to read. The
folded pages, I learned, were called “signatures.”

A single page folded in half gives the printer
two printed pages on one sheet of paper, or folded in half twice, four smaller
pages; folded in half again, eight pages; and so on up to as many as 32 pages
from one sheet of paper. These are the signatures from which books are printed.
The printer uses large sheets of paper and trims the edge-folds off all
at once with a machine. That makes for a “neat” book, but I like to think that
the dozens of books whose pages I trimmed by hand, one by one, in a boarding
school in Paris, left my mark in the world in a rather unique way. How
many students through the years will have enjoyed some great reading that
they discovered because I opened the pages for them! Some years later, I
learned how to make home-made books for gifts, using the same folding process,
and sewing the signatures together at the spine with carpet thread, then
pasting them into hand-made covers. I taught some of my language students
how to do this, and I loved seeing their delight at learning how to make
books just like the printer. OK, now round up some "signatures,"
and lets see some cool books from you.

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Don’t Make Me Think! by Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Fri, 20 May 2011 20:42:31 +0000

Don’t Make Me Think!
by Lorena Bowser

The Great Sense that people rely on today is no longer “common sense.” It is the sense of sight. Thinking is “out.” Visual stimuli is “in.”

Audio is often only appreciated if accompanied by Visual. …and Visual must be graphic or people don’t get it! This means that sitting on the porch in the dark on a Summer evening listening to Grandma tell stories of her youth is not appreciated as it once was. Words from the pages of a book don’t grab us. On a multi-colored website, sometimes flashing their message on and off in our faces, words find credibility, but is anyone sitting down for a couple of hours to read a good book anymore? Not many. Even the sense of taste has succumbed to the visual contribution of our favorite T.V. chef who teaches us that taste is enhanced by appearance, that food tastes better when it is “beautiful.”

Well, as an artist, I can appreciate this last statement, but I certainly don’t believe it is a general truth. A blind person will appreciate a savory meal as much as one who can see what he’s eating.

So if visual is “in,” we artists should be sitting pretty. Can we not put together a “delicious feast” for the eyes with a beautiful work of art? Can we not make a statement as effectively as a great documentary on PBS, or warm someone’s heart as easily as that video of a litter of puppies on YouTube? Sure we can. Is everyone running anxiously to check out our latest creation every morning with the first cup of coffee? No they’re not!

The Internet, TV and video games have taken the place of family get-togethers. We know by now that watching T.V. is an escape. Scientists have discovered that our brain cells are “least active” while we are watching T.V. After working (or the frustration of seeking work), we can forget the troubles of the day and wash our brain out by sitting a couple of hours in front of the Tube. It’s amusing, but it takes no thinking. Studies concerning the most effective website building have concluded that people browsing a website should be able to use it without expending any effort at all thinking about it – in other words, a good website is a “no-brainer.” Therefore (if I may be permitted to conclude something here) if our paintings are not selling like hotcakes, we are putting too much into them. We must stop trying to communicate through an elaborate abstract, or putting our heart and soul into an impressive landscape or portrait. We must create artwork that when seen evokes from the viewer a firmly expressed “duuuh.”

Or…bring back Common Sense!

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Jar lids and portraits – what could they possibly have in common! by Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Mon, 28 Feb 2011 05:07:46 +0000

Jar lids and portraits…what could they possibly have in common!

by Lorena Bowser

Have you ever heard someone say “I can’t do this,” and then done it yourself to prove you could? I have opened countless jar lids and turned some impossibly tight screws needing attention just because someone said “it wasn’t possible.” When someone says “no,” I instantly think “why not.” Apparently, that extra bit of positive thinking is all that is needed to accomplish the seemingly impossible. OK, I’ll admit that I’m showing off a bit when I do something for the person who couldn’t manage it, but truth is, I am practicing the most important elements of success – positive thinking, determination, and a good measure of perseverance! Yet, when it comes to bigger challenges, I sometimes get cold feet…

A good friend said to me one day that he wished he had a portrait of one of his favorite composers, Jean Sibelius. I quickly replied: "I can do that!" I'd always wanted to paint portraits, but I had thought my artistic talents not up to the task, so I had never tried. Life without challenges, however, has never been appealing to me either. The promise was made. It was up to me to make good on it. And so I began...not without trepidation. I suddenly realized that I was facing an inner fear of failure as an artist, armed not with experience or skill, but with nothing more than stubborn determination. Quite frankly, I didn't know what I was doing!

Not a few art books and YOUtube tutorials accompanied me on my "journey." It took me a full year to finish the portrait, amidst tears, doubt, and wonder as the painting progressed. Apparently I "did good." Herra Sibelius' new owner is happy! I heaved a sigh of relief (and gratitude) at my accomplishment, and my friend and I talked again about great music and composers, as we often do. Within a few days, I found myself "playing" with a pencil rendition of his other favorite composer, Akira Ifukube. What was I doing! What inner voice was driving me to face the fear of attempting another portrait? I've often wondered at how little control I seem to have over my life. Sometimes the love of challenge drives me to do things I might not attempt if I thought more about them. I sketched a fair likeness of Ifukube in pencil, and showed it to my friend, whose surprise was expressed in one of the most heartfelt laughs I've ever heard. He liked it! Joy begets joy: I was committed! All the fears and doubts of the first portrait flooded over me again as I began to paint. One portrait does not a great portraitist make! ...and I knew it. Let's make a long story short: portrait number two is finished and it only took me a few months. The moral of the story is not that I have learned to paint portraits. It is that a challenge should never be denied. And if the goal is worthy, we should never give up! I guess the fear of facing a new challenge is the shot of adrenaline that we need to see what we are made of. And overcoming a challenge is the best way to grow that I know.

Got that stubborn jar lid!

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There’s Something About Christmas – Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 00:41:06 +0000

There’s Something About Christmas
by Lorena Bowser

The car never made that noise before! I had started out to work and heard a scraping sound under the car. I got out in the pouring rain, bent down as far as I could, avoiding the growing puddles of mud, and saw nothing. But when the car started to move again, the scraping sound came back. I was on my way to class, but concerned, I drove to the nearby service station instead. Their shop mechanic had told me a couple months ago that a rattle the car had acquired was not serious. The heat shield over the catalytic converter was coming loose and needed soldering (Yeah, easy for him to say). He couldn’t repair it: no fire allowed near a gas station. I had not yet had time to take it to the mechanic he recommended.

While I was explaining this new scraping sound to him, I looked toward the car and saw something underneath hanging onto the ground. He saw it too and when he looked at me I knew: my heat shield had fallen off! So much for following through.

He just smiled and said I could bring the car back in the morning. He was obviously busy. The shop was full of cars in various states of repair. I said, “I guess I’d better call in to work and cancel my class,” wondering what coming back in the morning would do for me if he couldn’t solder it. Then he said: “Hold on a sec.” He went back to the shop, drove a car back off the rack and parked it, asked for my keys, and drove my car onto the rack in its place.

“Let’s take a look,” he said. The car was ceremoniously lifted on the rack and sure enough, there was a nice hunk of metal hanging down from the middle of the undercarriage – the neglected heat shield.

I stood and watched as he went over to a hook by the door, took his jacket off a wire hanger, snapped the round part off the top of the hanger with a wire cutter, straightened it out and placed it around one end of the heat shield, lifting it into place. He twisted the ends together and went back for a second hanger, taking another jacket off and placing it on a chair. He shored up the other end of the heat shield with the second hanger.

“That will get you to work,” he said with a big smile. The best mechanic is the one who knows the value of chewing gum and baling wire, I thought as I drove off. And the best Christmas gift is one that gives spontaneously when the moment is right.

I never worry about the Christmas rush to buy gifts any more. I give what I have: a special painting, a home-baked dessert, a personal poem…It’s this time of year that my artistic creativity has a chance to grow, as money is short for buying.

I had nothing to give the mechanic to say “thank you.” I don’t know him well enough to give something personal. I decided to go to Yelp on line to give him a good review, and there I saw a couple dozen other reviews from satisfied customers who all gave this man five stars and glowing recommendations. I’m guessing he hadn’t seen them, as I know he spends long hours in the shop every day, and as a family man, probably doesn’t spend his free time surfing the internet. I copied all the reviews onto a nice piece of paper, folded it up and placed it in one of my home-made Christmas cards, with a special note of thanks. I took the card to him, along with two very nice, felt-covered coat hangers from my closet.

There were no gifts under my tree this year. Indeed the “screaming penny” did not even provide a tree. But I am rich from the unexpected gifts that have lifted my spirits to soaring: this mechanic who got my car back on the road and didn’t charge me, the stranger who wished me Merry Christmas as we were exchanging “in” and “out’s” at the door of Rite Aid, the lady at Trader Joe’s who gave me an unexpected hug after we exchanged some friendly maneuvering in a crowded aisle, the Christmas card from my grandchildren, with a loving note from the oldest and a page full of zealous “P’s” and “I’s” from the youngest, friendships for which I am eternally grateful – especially one who understands that the most valuable things in life are too great to find words for – or to wrap up in packages!

Yep, there’s “something about Christmas” all right. And I got it!

Lorena Bowser is a lifetime artist and linguist. She has lived all over the world and really knows how to make the pennies scream. Enjoy more of Lorena's resourcefulness at her website and blog: at http://lorenasartandprose.blogspot.com

Downsize, Exorcize or … Intercize? by Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 01:51:11 +0000

Downsize, Exorcize or …Intercize?
by Lorena Bowser

Everybody is downsizing now! Normally, I avoid what everybody else is doing for some very well-founded reasons, but in this newest trend, I see an awakening: “Stuff” gets in the way of our freedom to be ourselves, and in the artist’s case, of our creative spirit. So we’re getting rid of things we don’t need, no longer want, or can’t figure out what to do with and suddenly a huge weight lifts from our shoulders. Mark “one” for the spiritual Vs the material. We move out the extra material baggage and our spirits have room to move in. It feels so good! I highly recommend downsizing!

Exorcism of course has its advantages when we have to root out our evil inclinations to keep everything we set eyes on because “we will use it some day.” Have you used that lovely branch you picked up from the woods years ago for the wall hanging you were going to weave? … or those perfectly good empty yoghurt containers for that children’s art class you might give “sometime, somewhere”…or those cool cigar boxes that you rescued from a neighbor who was about to put them in the trash? (Admit it: a wooden cigar box is a thing of beauty!). Exorcism is a last-ditch effort when downsizing gets stuck in sentimentality.

Intercize is a word of my own invention. Like “interstate”, it crosses the borders, in this case, between what goes and what stays, as we downsize and exorcise dozens of collected items we have no space for. For me it began because I couldn’t afford those cool boxes and organizers I saw at IKEA for my art materials, and was still piling all my art tools in a mixed salad on the shelf. The inspiration came from a growing number of items on my work table that I was “downsizing” and about ready to “hand off.” I was still having trouble convincing myself that it was OK to let go of that little red thingamajig left over from the small French press after I broke the glass part. It had been in my dish cupboard for two years just because I remembered how much I had fallen in love with the little red enamel French press when I had first discovered it at International Imports. I could never find another – or the glass replacement. On my table next to it was one topless empty coke can from the Beijing Olympic collection that my son had given me. So pretty! – and red! I picked it up and tried it on (or “into” as the case may be) the remains of my French press. It was a perfect fit! This successful marriage of two pretty items that I had no practical use for whatever now holds my favorite paint brushes.

That got me started… I took another look at the collection of “dumb things I liked but had never used” that I was about to hand off to some unlucky “upsizer”: wooden gift tea boxes rescued from my son’s garage sale, those cool cigar boxes, cleverly-designed mini-crates and see-through containers from Trader Joe purchases, a blueberry juice cardboard six pack, the top from a prepared salad purchase at Whole Foods, a favorite large white dinner plate (chipped), dozens of plastic containers with tight-fitting caps from the make-your-own-peanut-butter dispenser and… far too many saved yoghurt containers! And yes, I’m guilty of having kept a pretty branch for a never-realized wall hanging project – for four years! I will string it up in my Murphy Studio and use it to hang rulers and my roll of paper towels. I have a secret wish, however, of accomplishing the wall hanging one day. There are four skeins of exotic yarns taking up space in my closet - waiting. OK, nobody’s perfect!

It didn’t take me long to get all my paint brushes, colored pencils, erasers and art pencils, printmaking accessories, pens, inks, diluted watercolor washes, and miniature art projects neatly stashed in containers, each one a proud individual in my newly-organized art cupboard. The dinner plate is now my favorite pallet for mixing large amounts of a watercolor. I’ll admit, my art closet is pauvre eclectic, but now there is “a place for everything, and everything in its place.” Remember that? I thought it was a line from a fairy tale. Not so. And if my organized closet looks a bit like pieces of an Andy Warhol exhibit, at least I can say it’s within the realm of artistic endeavors.

You may have other ideas for “intercizing,” but the point is that handing off an unused treasured item or throwing it away is not the only option. Nor does recycling have to be synonymous with the big blue bin from the city. It can happen at home. Just think: when two items become “one”, you double the space for organizing! So it’s not too pretty? Come on…is the new “found art” pretty? Yet everyone’s doing it! Well, like I said…I normally avoid what everyone else is doing. More on that subject next time…

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Ha Ha, Murphy’s Law, I beat you this time! by Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 05:13:58 +0000

Ha Ha, Murphy’s Law, I beat you this time!
by Lorena Bowser

That fellow Murphy has been a trouble-maker for years, but if I remember right, he wasn’t always so. Anyone who would think up a space-saving bed that pulls down out of a closet is next to genius. Unfortunately, the Murphy bed is rarely to be seen any more. But the inspiration remains: Meet the Murphy Studio – an artist’s studio in a closet!

When I moved to the “big city” three years ago, my “Screaming Pennies” could only afford a studio apartment. I’ve been in constant re-arranging mode ever since, wracking my brain for ways to make my studio pretty, spacious, and practical. The three don’t come together easily in one tiny room. Something had to go. In my case, what “went” were the bedroom and a place for making art (what some fortunate artists call their studio).

When I give out my business cards with Fine Art Studio 111 clearly printed in bold, I’m really not fibbing: I DO have a studio. I live in it. Fine Art is no more than a name. Making art became so challenging that I had all but given it up! An artist needs room. We need as much space to work in as there is extent to our hoard of art materials and our creative ideas. Any artist knows that creativity knows no limits!

This was my challenge: Do I make my one room into a bedroom like all my studio apartment neighbors; an art studio, where I can live a cluttered, bohemian life; or a home within a room? Tradition won: I made mine a living room. I sadly resigned myself to no longer making art, and I solved the bedroom problem by purchasing some mats that I take out of my smallest closet at night, and sleeping on the floor. But I kept eyeing that big double closet in the center, wondering how I could remove the much needed shelves and accommodate a Murphy bed in their place.

For three years I visualized that future Murphy bed from the comfort of my pad (the one I sleep on) before turning the light off each night. My last thought was always “…but I need those shelves for my art supplies! – the ones I’ll use if I ever move to a bigger place.” Well if you think of shelves, art supplies and Murphy beds long enough I suppose you’re bound to make the connection sooner or later. The other day, the words “Murphy Studio” flashed into my mind like a stroke of lightning. Eureka! A few calculations, a trip to Home Depot, and my life was about to change dramatically. Why didn’t I think of it before! My pocketbook hardly felt a dent, and I have concluded that if “necessity is the mother of invention,” simplicity must be the Father. Now all I have to do is open the closet, pull down my work table and within seconds I’m ready to make art – supplies at my fingertips and creativity set free! When I’m done, I just fold the table up and close the closet, artwork and materials in place.

I’ll bet you can figure out this simple construction for a “closet near you,” but in case you’re interested, here are the steps….

Measure shelf for board width,
Calculate board length for available space when it is lowered. (My board measures 36” x 48”).
Determine leg height. Measure generously. You can “saw off” but not “add on.”
Purchase board, 1”x2” wood for legs (or your own preferred size), small hinges for legs, and a butterfly hinge for connecting the board to the shelf. Home Depot will cut everything to size.
Disconnect the phone, turn off the computer and don’t open the door for anyone: This is your hour – don’t let anything ruin the fun! Most of you can stop at Step 5: for you ladies who had to rip out the stitches after sewing pieces together out of sequence on that first sewing project (I know!), here is Step 6:
a. The legs go on first. b. Then the cross bar, to stabilize the legs. c. Next, mark and drill the holes on the board edge and d. attach the butterfly hinge. e. Position the board on its shelf, with legs standing, and finish by f. attaching the butterfly hinge to the shelf. g. add a handle and it’s done.
Stand back and look at your new studio. Just look at it. Isn’t it grand!

Now let’s make art!
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What’s Wrong with Beautiful Art? by Lorena Bowser

LBowser — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 03:45:12 +0000

"I Don't Get It" by Lorena Bowser

What’s Wrong with Beautiful Art?
by Lorena Bowser

Art has always reflected the times in which it is created. As goes society…so goes art. We’ve come a long way since the first cave drawings at Lascaux. From the ritualistic bas-relief of the Egyptians, to the story-telling frescos of the catacombs, to the sophisticated gold-embellished tile icons of the first Christian churches, to the breath-taking paintings of Michelangelo and the heaven-reaching spires of the architecture of the Middle Ages, art had its beginning in religion. It was largely symbolic, the message being of more importance than a realistic portrayal of any subject. There were “rules” to follow, and anyone deviating from the rules, was scorned. But to contemplate the art from these ages was to leave this earth for a few moments and soar to “better places.” The glory for all this beauty was given largely to God. Man was only the instrument of His message.

Then with the Renaissance, art came out of the box. Artists began to “break” the rules and with a new sense of self-pride, began to sign their work. Art ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous, from the heavenly to the satanic during this transition zone of artistic expression.

By the time I began to seriously create art, galleries were consistently exhibiting “Modern Art” – much of which was “bleak” and depressing; Art had become a personal expression of our inner troubles and those of society as a whole. OK, that’s fair. Who am I to dictate what inspires and motivates an artist? Yet, when I studied these “self-centered” artworks, I always came away feeling lousy. Here I quote from Alice Walker: “If art does not make us better, what on earth is it for!” Words straight from my heart! And that is why I did not follow the advice of my art instructors, or try to fit in to current trends. And so I have instinctively created art that expresses my goal. This of course meant that I didn’t fit in the art world of my contemporaries. The art connoisseurs, both galleries and art purchasers (and my instructors), confirmed this by lauding the artists that stepped away from tradition to create art that was simplistic to extreme, dark in nature, or easily replicated (yes!) by anyone who could swing a paintbrush full of paint haphazardly across a blank canvas. I found it extremely hard to understand that these artists were famous and rich, and I could not sell even one painting inspired by beauty, by the lofty ideals that signify the universal quest for happiness that we all share. A few cases of note:

Andy Warhol was ill and confined to bed for part of his childhood and shut out by his classmates when he returned to school. As an adult he was considered devoutly religious, yet painted subjects that are anathema to the religion he practiced. There was enough in his life to consider the possibility that he was a troubled person. He first became famous by painting a Campbell’s soup can, which work let him to an abundant collection of artwork that you, or I – or just about anybody could replicate with a limited art instruction. Warhol’s 1963 painting, “Eight Elvises,” sold for $100 million.

During his lifetime, Paul Jackson Pollock enjoyed considerable fame and notoriety, yet he was basically a recluse and struggled with alcoholism all of his life. Pollock stated: “I work standing up because I want my whole body to be part of my art. I'm not [really] aware of what I'm doing”. Pollock died at the wheel of his convertible at the age of 44 – intoxicated. I will make many people angry here, but in my honest opinion, anyone who can sling a paintbrush and throw broken glass at a canvas can create a Pollock painting. Pollock shares the distinction of having sold work for more than $100 million.

At the time of painting the “The Scream,” Munch’s manic depressive sister Laura Catherine was interned in a mental hospital. In 1978, the Munch scholar Robert Rosenblum suggested that the strange, sexless creature in the foreground of the painting was probably inspired by a Peruvian mummy, which Munch could have seen at the 1889 Exposition Universelle in Paris. The environment of The Scream is often compared to that which an individual suffering from Depersonalization Disorder experiences, such as a feeling of distortion of the environment and one's self.

I am not an unkind person. I do not begrudge the fact that these artists found fame, but both their life styles and artwork are a reflection of unhappy, unhealthy lives. Yet, few art connaisseurs that I know would ever say that their art is anything less than genius! In my dictionary, one of the definitions of “genius” is “…great and original creative ability in art, science. etc…” [italics are mine) I have no doubt at all that the majority of us, artists or not, can duplicate the main works that made these artists famous – and I’m willing to back up these words if necessary. What is “great” and “original” about that? Creating original, beautiful, un-reproducible art is my goal. It’s a hard one – as it should be! And I wonder…if I attain my goal one day, will I become famous?

The evaluation of art is often subjective, but with a study of art history and a keen insight into human behavior, anyone can be a credible art critic. And so I dare….

But not to fear. We are on the tail end of what is currently referred to as “Contemporary Art,” and it is becoming more and more promising of better times for art – and society! I will deal with this in my next article. Meanwhile, your comments are welcome. I love a friendly argument.