11 x 14″ paper with pinholes
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Dangling birds
Aside an old tire swing
Home
A soft, happy tree
3 x 5″ watercolor and ink on paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Yesterday we had the pleasure of hanging out with my two and a half year old niece. The day was fun filled – lots of pretending and playing. Toward the end of the day we asked her if she wanted to go on a run with us. She excitedly answered yes, proceeded to find everyone’s running shoes and we were quickly out the door. We took a stroller along, but my niece opted to run quite a bit and seemed to enjoy the entire thing. It got me wondering, at what point do we decide that running is work instead of play? At what age do we become so tightly wound that a once fun activity is a chore rather than a reward?
As I watched her enjoy herself, stopping as she became tired or distracted I realized we could probably learn a lot from a kid. Kids don’t seem to care how much distance they cover, calories they burn, or time it takes to complete an activity; they simply get out and move – enjoying the fresh air and world around them.
Day 273 3 x 5″ ink and watercolor on paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Lately we’ve been listening to quite a few biology-type podcasts. They always amaze me. Recently we heard a Radiolab one “(So-Called) Life” about DNA. It blew my mind. Perhaps all of this thinking about biology influenced the making of this little drawing. It reminds me of cells moving around in a micro-world.
6 x 6″ acrylic, ink and paper on canvas
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
He struts his stuff with feathers full
Akin to haystacks
Piled upon his backbone
A proud billboard
Of natural beauty
8 x 10″ pinholes on paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Trees and clouds and ground below
Blocks with rounded edges
Snap together like Legos
As rain falls
Between plastic joints
Approximately 14 x 14″ watercolor and ink on paper
Goal: Create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
My grandma had hung proudly all of the art I have given her over the years – good or not so good. Yesterday the paintings, along with some photos and other fun stuff, were laid out for all of us to peruse and take if we wanted.
It was great to see old photos and read things my grandma had kept. It was also interesting to look over work that I had completed such a long time ago. The family took most of the paintings, but I held on to one – an old water color rose that I had given Grandma. She loved roses. I didn’t keep it because I was attached to it, but because I thought it was pretty darned bad and could be greatly improved upon. I inked it up, giving it a bit more interest and energy – definitely an improvement from the original.
18 x 24″ Watercolor and pinholes on paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
The other night after my grandma passed away, my sister sent me the following piece of writing and asked if I could do something with it. I absolutely loved what she wrote and was easily inspired. Because her poetry invoked very concrete images, my interpretation is rather literal. I did, however, decide I wanted to abstract that imagery. I may add some more of the brighter blues down the road, but not just yet. I love this piece – probably for more than one reason.
By: Gail Richardson
Gone
Mostly, I remember her voice.
I don’t remember what she said.
I could guess, or try to conjure up what someone else might say they remember.
I just recall the sound.
I don’t know what I would do with
Grandma’s recorded voice –
Except that it wouldn’t be
Gone.
Not “smooth” or “silky” –
Almost crackly-
But not a cackle.
A zillion sand-sized bubbles
Popping in succession
The flicking and clicking of cards shuffled
Only quicker
And soft
And pushed through a voice,
Or a laugh,
Or a sharp stinging comment.
Air and water
Shushed
Through a faucet
Only coarser
And more
Abrupt.
Words of hers,
(I can’t say which ones),
Jagging briskly over
Fine cracks in my imagination.
Silvery scribbles
Slipping
Off the margins,
And I try to reel them back
Onto pages I can keep.
watercolor paper, acrylic and ink on tile
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
It is a fact of life that all of us will die. There is no way around it. As many guarantees as we hope to find in life, this one is 100% and none of us want it. It affects us all and the only thing we can do is try to deal with it as best we can.
Yesterday, my means of dealing was through art. I painted for me, and for me only. The piece was for no one else to read or see. It was not pretty or well written. It was raw and I felt drained as I finished it. I’d thought that perhaps I’d make a second piece for day 264, but it wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t muster the energy – which had me worried. I did not want to share this art.
I woke up this morning and realized the painting had helped me deal with my loss and that was all I needed it for. Now I could move on. I cut it up and turned it into this strange, dark flower. A gorgeous work? Not necessarily, but it did accomplish what I wanted – to keep the original words and images I created about my grandma dying private, while allowing me to continue to share my work.
8 x 10″ paper with pinholes
This image might look familiar to some of you. I created it as a Valentines card a week or so ago. Typically I wouldn’t re-visit the exact same imagery in a new piece of art, but I felt I had sufficient reason to.
The gallery where I have my studio put out a call for entries for their Heart Art show. The theme is not one in which I would typically enter a piece, but because I am trying to be as active as possible in the shows here, I thought I’d give it a go. I chose to repeat this image for two reasons 1. I liked the humor and the fact that I was depicting a human heart. 2. I wanted to work on a pinhole image that allowed me to focus on creating form
I’m pretty happy with the result. I’m hoping the gallery goers will be too.
A continuation of the re-appropriation project: 1955 Field and Stream magazine, ink and acrylic
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
The old man sat in the garden, cloaked in thick blankets. The cool afternoon air was tempered by a beaming sun which heated his back and warmed his lungs. He liked coming to this garden. It was peaceful and secluded and gave him a chance to reflect.
There was another reason he enjoyed it here. She visited him. With her pixie hair and wings aflutter, she’d swoop down and then sit; attentively listening to his stories or to the silence. She certainly made for good company.
He’d once shared stories about his encounters with the fairy, but soon became the wiser. Those he’d shared with had laughed and muttered something about dementia. No sense in ruining a good thing, he thought. Some secrets are best kept to oneself anyway.
Previous pages 1955 Field and Stream Magazine. Write-ups for each can be found here, here and here.
Micah Richardson 