knowledge tree (Monotype of the Day #670)

Day 300 of Year 2 (Actually Day 305)

I remember when I hit day 300 a year ago, it felt like such a milestone. Now in my second year of this project I've hit day 300 again and it feels good but like just like any other day. I've begun to look at these monotype as footprints. I make one each day, like one footprint following the other, and move forward. That's been my motto since I've been dealing with long-term illness, focus on the small steps, the rest is beyond our control. My love to all those suffering or dealing with illness.

"I" ["No, no, there is no going back"]
By Wendell Berry

No, no, there is no going back.
Less and less you are
that possibility you were.
More and more you have become
those lives and deaths
that have belonged to you.
You have become a sort of grave
containing much that was
and is no more in time, beloved
then, now, and always.
And so you have become a sort of tree
standing over the grave.
Now more than ever you can be
generous toward each day
that comes, young, to disappear
forever, and yet remain
unaging in the mind.
Every day you have less reason
not to give yourself away.

From A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems, 1979-1997 https://amzn.to/2YYJXsz. Such a wonderful book of poems!

floating, Monotype of the Day #667

Day 297 of Year 2 (Actually Day 302)

It seemed to me this piece wanted more symbols but I hit a snag in the studio. The shadowy images are made by removing ink with cut pieces of paper. My hands were too tired today to cut and I have come to the end of my stock pile. But I made it work anyway and fortunately, tomorrow is Mother's Day and my son has agreed to to cut for me. 🙂 I spent the day drawing shapes out for him. The real trick right now, at least for me, is keeping going. Normally, my studio assistant would cut for me but everyone's normals are broken. I don't want to get stuck because I'm attached to my old way of doing things. So I am embracing this print for what it is, an essential part of my process on this day. I look forward to seeing what tomorrow will bring. My studio is a place of wonder and adventure for me.

The Painter
Robert Arthur Lewis

I put color on walls, then leave
and let light tell its own story. Strange
how our vague ambitions lead
to such particular situations, like these white overalls
with the brass clips, this collection of brushes
and buckets. It was never my intention
to join the order of caps and rags,
but here I am.

One summer evening I knelt in a shed
cleaning brushes. Light streamed through the splintered boards
and I was there to see how it landed, how it made
the shovel and the rake and the dirt floor
all count. I stopped and listened. Wind
swept dry grass against the dryer siding.
The sound was as close as my own breath
and my kneeling went deeper into thankfulness

for this strange and lonely craft
which makes me love so many things. "The Painter" by Robert Arthur Lewis. Published by The Atlanta Review, Spring/Summer 2005.

Found on http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2014/04/robert-arthur-lewis-painter.html

dusk, Monotype of the Day #666

Day 296 of Year 2 (Actually Day 301)

The Moor
by R. S. Thomas

It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.

There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart’s passions — that was praise
Enough; and the mind’s cession
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.

Found on https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/blog/2018/03/16/r-s-thomas-the-moor-3/
If you are interested in sacred poetry, Poetry Chaikhana is a wonderful resource!
I am ordering this book right away: https://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1401923879

eyes, Monotype of the Day #665

Day 295 of Year 2 (Actually Day 300)

It's been a month since we got our puppy and the house was an absolute wreck until this evening. Puppy shreddings everywhere. I have limited energy so I don't tidy up as much as I'd like. One day I looked and the piles had become too much. I literally couldn't think straight. Especially in my studio, I felt that mess bearing down on me like a weight. It's a good reminder that art isn't just what happens in the studio, it's the woven threads of the artist's whole life creating a framework for the universal creative flow to come through. If an artist is stuck in the studio, the answer often lies elsewhere. If we tend to our lives patiently, flow will return. This is the cyclical nature of life on earth, every ebb must be followed by a flow. Change is constant and nothing stays stuck forever. xo

alone?, Monotype of the Day #663

Day 293 of Year 2 (Actually Day 298)

The top layer on this image printed so lightly that the symbols are just faint ghosts. In person the effect is striking. I hope you can see some of them in the photo. The boat has become a powerful symbol for self in my work. It was initially inspired by the Dogen poem below. This poem which I've posted before has had a profound effect on me and my work. For those of you who are writers, take this to heart: even very few words can bring profound change. Your work matters. It's hard to articulate more about this print. I will let the image speak for itself tonight.

Midnight
By Dogen, Trans Stephen Mitchell

Midnight. No waves,
no wind, the empty boat
is flooded with moonlight.

From The Enlightened Heart https://amzn.to/2yp6GmK , a terrific collection of sacred poetry

keyhole, Monotype of the Day #662

Day 292 of Year 2 (Actually Day 297)

This is, again, ink rolled over last night's left over (ghost) ink. I got lucky and found some more torn paper in a drawer. It was too thin for my old ink so it put it away and forgotten. But I've since change my ink, the paper works just fine. In fact, it seems to pickup more of the subtleties. Hopefully I can figure out what kind of paper it is because I like it. Last week was a bit rough outside of the studio, everyone here was peckish. Understandable under these circumstances. But in keeping with the cyclical nature of the world, things have eased and the week is starting on better footing. Part of life is staying through the downs and trusting in the cycle. Nature teaches us that for every winter there is a spring. My love to those who are sick or suffering.

come
by Rumi, Trans by Nader Khalili

come
let's fall
in love
again
let's turn
all the dirt
in this world
to shiny gold

come
let's be
a new spring
a love reborn
find our aroma

from the essence
of all who
emit heavenly fragrance
like a fresh tree

bloom and spread
all the blessings
right from inside

From Rumi: Fountain of Fire https://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1889625035

Found on the truly wonderful website PoetryChaikhana.com https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/R/RumiMevlanaJ/come/index.html

the edge of night, Monotype of the Day #661

661.jpg

Day 291 of Year 2 (Actually Day 296)

I mixed a color tonight that has a good amount of white in it. The white seems to have blocked a lot of the under (ghost) layer and also doesn't have the depth of the inks without white mixed in. Lesson learned. Every image that fails in someway is a doorway. There are a lot of failures in studio practice, some true failures and some perceived by the artist alone. It is so important to understand that failure is a vital, beautiful part of the process. Understanding this is like grease for your gears. It keeps the creative spring flowing instead of stopped up by disappointment.

Quatrain 1115
By Rumi, Trans Colman Barks

The minute I am disappointed, I feel encouraged.
When I am ruined, I am healed.
When I am quiet and solid as the ground, then I talk
the low tines of thunder for everyone.

From Open Secret, Versions of Rumi https://amzn.to/2YvQsm8 (A really wonderful collection)

treescape ghost (plus 2nd print: treescape), Monotype of the Day #660

Day 290 of Year 2 (Actually Day 295)

I have completely abandoned cleaning my monotype plates! I love the depth the old (ghost) ink adds under the final image. Tonight I'm posting two prints. The first posted print (the one I am using as my daily print) is actually a ghost* of the second posted print. Printmaking (at least the way I practice it) is about giving up control. You never know exactly how ink will mate with paper. A ghost print is more of an adventure because even the way an artist lays ink down is altered. This method amplifies the ink's own special voice. Artist materials have voice and purpose if you listen. Even alone in the studio, an artist collaborates with the physical world through their materials. It is a constant back and forth, sometime a smooth collaboration, sometimes an epic battle. A good ghost print captures a precious moment of trust and harmony between an artist and the material world. *A ghost print is the a second print taken off of a monotype plate. Because it uses the leftover ink, the image is always different from the first print.

seascape again, Monotype of the Day #659

Day 289 of Year 2 (Actually Day 294)

I seem to return to this seascape over and over again. It's a strong reflection of my inner world. Sometimes it comes out calm and I can feel its energy easing and opening. But tonight it's a bit of a chaotic garble. This doesn't surprise me. It sometimes feels to me like we are each in an isolated boat at the whim of winds and waves, hoping for sight of land. The yellow on the horizon here seems strangely hopeful as do the veiled symbols throughout. Our inner lives are alive and ticking. Seeds are being planted and plots hatched. I often have to remind myself, patience Sybil, patience. My love to all those who are sick or suffering.

thought bubble, Monotype of the Day #658

Day 288 of Year 2 (Actually Day 293)

This piece and the yellow piece from two nights ago were both done using the ghost ink from the night before they were made. The ghost ink dried enough so when I rolled the fresh ink on top the next day, it kept its form instead of being mixed in. I like the delicate, ephemeral quality this technique brings to the image.
I am posting tonight's poem because we are all a little peckish here and the house feels worn out with our constant presence. We are in a time of ups and downs and I know it us only a matter of time until this passes and we, in our little quarantined world, are in harmony again. This poem reminds me of the beauty and possibility in home (both inner and outer).

The Work of Happiness
By May Sarton

I thought of happiness, how it is woven
Out of the silence in the empty house each day
And how it is not sudden and it is not given
But is creation itself like the growth of a tree.
No one has seen it happen, but inside the bark
Another circle is growing in the expanding ring.
No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,
But the tree is lifted by this inward work
And its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.

So happiness is woven out of the peace of hours
And strikes its roots deep in the house alone:
The old chest in the corner, cool waxed floors,
White curtains softly and continually blown
As the free air moves quietly about the room;
A shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed wall --
These are the dear familiar gods of home,
And here the work of faith can best be done,
The growing tree is green and musical.

For what is happiness but growth in peace,
The timeless sense of time when furniture
Has stood a life's span in a single place,
And as the air moves, so the old dreams stir
The shining leaves of present happiness?
No one has heard thought or listened to a mind,
But where people have lived in inwardness
The air is charged with blessing and does bless;
Windows look out on mountains and the walls are kind.

From May Sarton: Collected Poems https://amzn.to/2zMRtfu A wonderful book! Shout out to https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/ where I

ponder, Monotype of the Day #657

Day 287 of Year 2 (Actually Day 292)

Today was a cleaning day so I am tired! How messy is your quarantine house on a scale of 1-10, 10 being a disaster area and 1 being clean? I expected that we would be a full 14 by now, but we have been keeping it a respectable 7-8. Cleaning is physically challenging for me and with the house in chaos from a new puppy and a teenager. I'd say we are doing pretty well. (Mainly because my husband is a saint!) The message here is it okay. We are all doing our best. Maybe it doesn't look as well as we'd like but this is what we can do right now. I accept that. I hope you are being kind to yourself too.

PS I found a few more sheets of torn paper!