Etching and aquatint, "Fort Benning 1950"

Where in the world have I been for the past month?

Well, I was in northern California, and no, it wasn't for a vacation. Jim, Mathew and I took on the monumental task of sorting, packing and cleaning out my parent's home in order to put it up for sale. It was a bittersweet experience, coming across so many things from my childhood. The hardest part was the paper trail my father left, which showed his organization and need for order gradually disintegrate as he battled to hang on to his independence as Alzheimer's took over.

The image you see is an etching/aquatint. I love making prints. It is such a different process from painting. This particular print is from a snapshot of my mom and me in Fort Benning, Georgia.

Like all families, I have boxes and albums of photos of my own children and some from my childhood. Now I have boxes and boxes and boxes and more albums from my parents' lives. At some point, I'm guessing some of this imagery will become a part of my work. In the meantime, I'm going to need to figure out where in the world to store it all safely.

Jack and David Attempt to Capture the Beauty

This is a painting from a series of snapshots I took while on a wonderful river trip, rafting down the Grand Canyon. The two guys here are my brother-in-law and my nephew. Yes, I took a few photos. My husband, Jim, took hundreds and hundreds of photos. This made sense because he's a professional photographer and consequently, was working. Jack and David were on vacation, but they took pictures non-stop on this trip. I'm not sure if they ever saw the Canyon except through the viewfinders on their cameras. It made me think about what the trip would have been like for them with no camera at all. It certainly would have been a different experience. Maybe we should all leave the picture-making to the professional photographers, use our vacations to enjoy our surroundings and purchase that quintessential image which really captures the place from the guy who makes his living doing this! For a look at Jim's wonderful current project which is chock full of photos and other exciting stuff, look at the US Route 89 project!

I'm not sure whether this painting is quite done, yet. It's definitely hot off the press, as I scrambled to get it to the point of entering it in an upcoming show in Tucson.

Which brings up a subject I'd like to tackle once in a while in this blog. How does the reality of being an artist mesh with what the public pictures as the life of an artist?

This interests me because I myself am constantly asked questions which I find annoying. It finally occurred to me that the reason people say things like "Oh, you're doing art full time. You must be retired" or, "Being an artist must be so much fun", is that the whole business of working in the arts is a big mystery to just about anyone except artists. And a lot of time, we shroud what we do in mystery or are defensive about it. There are a whole array of cliches about artists, many of which are negative.

So what does this have to do with entering an exhibit? Well, entering shows is one of the many things that professional artists do. Why? Good question. It's important for building a reputation, which is necessary in order to be able to justify what you charge for your work. You never know who might see the work in the show–which could lead to all kinds of wonderful outcomes, like a sale or an offer of another show.

However, entering shows is an expensive enterprise. There is the time spent in researching exhibitions. Most shows charge an entry fee of $25-35 for 3 slides. Having slides or digital images of artwork is expensive, especially if it is done professionally (which it should be in order to be taken seriously). There are application forms to fill out, resumes and artist statements to polish and print. The whole thing needs to be packaged. And then last but not least is the postage. Oh, and if you want those slides back you have to enclose an SASE (self addressed stamped envelope), so there goes more postage money!

There are always way more entries than there is exhibition space, so much of the work is rejected. Yet having that show record is critical to being a respected artist. And they have to be the right kind of shows. So every time you enter a show you take a gamble. Are you just throwing money away? Do you stand a chance of getting in? How long does it take you to recover from being rejected and move on?

Entering exhibits is only one very small, but important part of being a professional artist. Stay posted for more insights into the work of artists.

Update: This painting, Reed Calligraphy III, was accepted into the big ideas SMALL FRAMES exhibition at Dinnerware Artspace, located in downtown Tucson. The exhibition dates are June 7 – July 19. For more information on this show, see the Dinnerware website.

I was once a lukewarm shopper. Then I went into training. My friend Peggy took years to teach me the ins and outs of bargain shopping. I still function best when I'm with her. She just has an eye for the greatest stuff. I'm not too bad on my own, and I certainly enjoy the occasional spree, but my best times are with Peggy.

This is a new painting called Old Friends Waiting for their Wives to Finish Shopping (Again). You see here the long-suffering husbands, mine on the left, Peggy's on the right. Waiting yet again for us. We are late, having been caught up in the excitement of the hunt. While they are annoyed, they are also enjoying each others' company. Such are the pleasures of old friendships!

I'm back after yet another trip to California. My Dad died on May 1 at 2:20 a.m. Strangely, May 1 is my Mom's birthday. She would have been 95. Dad was 89 years old and then some. His passing was very peaceful. My sister and I were there, as was Lynn, a wonderful Hospice nurse and Sam Lee, the owner of the group home my Dad was at. I had moments of closeness to my father over the past few weeks which I had seldom experienced with him before. It was truly a gift to be able to be with him.

This painting, Reed Calligraphy, was completed recently. I hope the peacefulness and tranquility that I tried to capture in the work is what my Dad is experiencing now.

I spent Sunday through Wednesday in California, visiting my dad, who is in the final stages of Alzheimers disease, one of the cruelest ways to wind down a life. My sister and I are trying our best to give Dad the most comfortable end possible.

Coming back to Ajo felt like such a gift. This serene little town, my husband, dog and studio were here for me. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to recover, but here I am working away the day after I got back.

You can see a portion of my studio. Thanks to Jim for taking this photo late last night! There are at least 4 projects going on in here right now. See if you can find them!

This is another personal piece. It's quite a large painting, but a lot of the details aren't visible, so I'll describe it. The title of the painting is Mathew's Story. There are four image transfers of Mathew in the NICU as a preemie, from photographs by James Cowlin. I tinted over them. These images are on canvas, which is attached to a wood panel. See the shadows cast under the black – that's because the canvases stick out.

When Mathew finally came home from the hospital, we had his nursery all set up, including a wallpaper border, which I painted on the top and bottom of the panel. At the very top and very bottom is a poem written by Mat. I know, you can barely see it, but it's in his handwriting, which I transferred to the panel.

Here's what the poem says:

I am special • I am • I was in the hospital for many days • and many nights. I am a miracle my parents said. I am a survivor.

Doctors pouring over me day and night • When I came home I saw my room • My toys • I did not see an incubator.

My room was so colorful • and bright • I knew it was home • I knew it was.

"Me" by Mathew Cowlin

By the way, Mathew is now 19 years old, and a freshman at Kenyon College in Ohio and doing very well. We are so very proud of him.