I’ve always been a writer who yearned to express my creativity in visual form as well. When I was younger, if you couldn’t draw, the golden door marked “Art” was slammed shut.
Part I: Transforming furniture
My yen to make things with my hands persisted. In my 20s, I began refinishing furniture for my apartment. The process was satisfying and fun. A few years later, I got into transforming distressed old tables, dressers, and desks. Depending on the piece and my vision, I painted, added decorative moldings, stenciled, decoupaged, and created mosaics. I sold them through a venue, where half the sales benefitted a rescue mission.
Part II: Stained glass
My next adventure was learning how to work with stained glass. Besides creating original pieces, I loved to put it behind cool vintage heating grates.
My photography is intertwined with my love of history. I’m drawn to recording gorgeous architectural details, shabby paint, and patinas on metal. I'm equally excited by the colors and textures of lichens, mosses, and bracket fungi and have a series of images called trees with stories to tell.
Part III A home for all my treasures
I enjoyed all those visually creative mediums, but still sought one that opened something inside me. I took a few classes taught by local artists. Eventually, I discovered mixed media, where I can use all the colorful, textured bits and bobs that I’ve collected.
Playing with all of those materials that made my heart hum was fun, but I didn’t know what I was doing. I needed to express something I couldn’t name through mixed media and realized that I wouldn’t be able to work the answer out in my head. In order to get anywhere, I had to dive in with my hands, make a mess, and make mistakes. Somehow, I knew I’d find my way to my art language and style and express whatever it was that needed to be freed inside me. I had a regular writing practice, and it was exciting to commit to an art practice.
That was in 2021. In 2022, I saw an annual art show where several established local artists exhibited. There were many extraordinary pieces there, but also a few that I thought I might be able to soon hold my own with if I kept w. I made a pact with two friends that we’d each enter something in that show the following year.
I got to work and when I’d gone as far as I could on my own, I requested a consultation with an amazing artist friend. She saw 10 or 12 pieces of my work in different stages of completion. Her thoughts on what was working, what wasn't, and what I needed to focus on learning were invaluable.
She was so encouraging that I made a new pact with myself. I hadn't sent out any of my writing in way too long, and none of my art or photography. In a rash moment I committed to sending 12 pieces of art or writing into the world over the next year. That was last summer and I’ve already met that goal! I sent twenty-one works of art into the void, I mean world, created this substack, and subbed an essay to an anthology.
I’ve had some pieces rejected and my mixed media, photography, and abstract paintings were exhibited in several shows. Did anything sell or secure prizes or honorable mentions? No, and I didn’t expect them to. I just needed to get my work out there and did.
Mixed media allows me to express all aspects of myself. I get to play with paints, create cool textures, and use my photographs AND my stashes of colorful papers, yarns, fabrics, rusty metal, and broken ceramics. Who could ask for anything more from a medium?
I’d been working toward combining my textured abstract paintings with my architectural photographs and the ones of lichens and fungi. For some reason, I trusted that I'd work out how to do that one of these years. Sooner than expected, an opportunity I made for myself brought me a giant step forward.
Who knew there was an International Society of Micro Galleries?
I met Elaine Luther through the Quilty Nook, Zak Foster’s wonderful online community. Elaine started with one micro gallery in a “domestic setting.” She constructed a three-sided doll-sized room, hung micro art, and people went through her home to see the shows.
During the pandemic, Elaine began to put the exhibits online. She’s also had them in museums and displayed in gallery windows. I've lost track of how many rooms she has now. There’s s a link to the Angelica Kauffman gallery below. I love that Elaine includes little figures. She even has opening and closing receptions complete with tables with wine and the usual gallery nibbles! I know that this endeavor involves an incredible amount of work and attention, but it looks like she’s having a blast.
By requesting a solo show, I provided myself with a deadline to work toward. I knew I’d make more progress that way and was excited about being part of Elaine’s wonderful project.
It was fun to surprise people who knew my newbie status with the announcement that I was having a solo show in Chicagoland. Then I revealed that it was in a micro gallery.
Working on multiples, it all began to come together
It seems there’s something special about creating several pieces the same size using similar materials. I needed 7 to 8 pieces no larger than 4" x 4.” Late one night a way forward opened before me. Somehow I knew what to do, but not why it was right.
I started to create impressions of stories. An ancient Italian stone building next to textured reds makes that patch of paint look like a field of poppies. A curved wooden boardwalk leads us into the mists of time. A door handle on rocks is another portal.
I’m thrilled to have had my first solo art show in the Angelica Kauffman micro-gallery! Here are a couple of pics.
You can see more photographs of my show, including art students sketching, at the Angelica Kauffman Micro Gallery. Elaine created 10 or 12 posts about it, including my statement about the show, interview questions, and answers. It was a fabulous experience. Check out Elaine Luther and the history of this extraordinary passion project that keeps evolving.
Love this. You are bursting with creativity, Rita. Gives me the same feeling as a glorious Spring garden!
I loved reading this post. You are inspiring. Passion projects - that's what I'm missing in this moment. Your journey teaches me to just start. Somewhere. Anywhere. Thanks Rita ( and I love your micro gallery solo show!)