INTO THE STUDIO
Journal of a Mixed Media Photographer
A Fresh Batch of Bottle Lids
On this bright sunny Sunday, I found myself with a pocket of time in the studio and used it to prep bottle lids for Bottle Dreams. The bottles I use for this series come with silver-colored, brushed aluminum lids. I spray them with black enamel paint to achieve the look I want. It feels a bit like baking, filling cardboard sheets with black round circles. At the end of the day, I have three sheets-full ready for artmaking.
On My Wall…
My studio walls hold two large bulletin boards. I decorate these with snippets of projects in progress, images and words that inspire me, and other items of fascination. Some of the things collected there are…
Milagros and a rusty old keyhole purchased at a flea market in Merida, Mexico
A reproduction of Anselm Kiefer’s sculpture of a book with wings
A photograph of my husband with our lab, Trinity, at 8 weeks old
Tear-outs from the Pottery Barn catalogue of interesting frames
A show announcement for Jules Greenberg’s Fallen exhibition
The Peace Prayer of St. Francis
A packet of cards with bright red words printed on them – words like magic, devotion, grace, miracles, etc. – purchased at the Paper Source
A list of how to move forward with a current project, shooting still lives of collages created inside bottles
A photograph of me at around age 6, working in my father’s art studio
A picture torn from the New York Times Book Review of surrealists Lee Miller and Tanya Ramm reading the paper in bed in 1929 in Paris
A package of gold leaf
Quotes by artists like Agnes DeMille, Jane Hirshfield, Robert Bly, ee cummings, and these words by Mary Oliver:
Let me keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still
and learning to be astonished.
A Box of Books
A bright spot in the midst of a rainy day yesterday was the arrival of a box of books. Even though I ordered these myself, cutting open the cardboard box felt like opening a gift. Here is what I found inside:
Hundreds and Thousands: The Journals of Emily Carr
I discovered this book from reading Keri Smith’s Blog. Artist journals, especially those by women, have deeply intrigued me. This one seems like a great companion to others I love like Anne Truitt’s Daybook.
The Education of a Photographer
I am about to start teaching a new class at JFK University next week and bought this book thinking it would be about photographic education. I was a little dismayed to find it is really about photography in general – another compilation of essays by famous photographers and writers about the medium. Still useful, but not quite what I expected.
Bookworm by Rosamond Purcell
I first learned of Rosamond Purcell in graduate school at UNM when one of my peers there was researching her penchant for photographing scientific specimens. Being a book junkee myself, I could not resist the title. From my first quick glance, the images in this book offer a visual feast – many depict books in various states of decay and alteration while others are eerie photo-collages.
So the Story Goes: Photographs by Tina Barney, Philip Lorca di Corcia, Nan Goldin, Sally Mann, and Larry Sultan
“Personal experience and photography are indelibly linked” the back cover reads, and these five photographers explore this theme in their own unique way. Sally Mann has always been a source of particular fascination for me, and my library was missing representation of these other well-established artists.
Francesca Woodman by Chris Townsend
A wonderful fat, hardcover book dedicated to this immensely talented young photographer who tragically died young. In her short career, she made some stunning images – rich in emotion and surrealist overtones. Her work was a revelation to me when I first saw it over 12 years ago. It was work like hers that illuminated for me the possibility of using the body to reveal emotional depths. In addition to many images and a long intro essay, this book also includes excerpts from her journals.
My Studio in Muir Beach
Although the drive is only 30-minutes to San Francisco (and my 13-year old neighbor says his dad can do it in 22), 
living in Muir Beach is really living in the country. Nestled between acres of State and National Parkland, this small coastal community is comprised of only 150 homes and approximately 450 residents. The only commercial establishment is a quaint inn with an English-style pub. All other amenities are a long fifteen minutes away over the curvy route of Highway One. It is not uncommon to see bobcats on the fence line, and an array of birdlife and bunnies compete for space on our wide open lawn. Most days, I pinch myself at how lucky I am to live in a place of such natural beauty.
About three years ago, I moved my main studio from San Francisco to my home in Muir Beach. Now it is just a simple walk across flagstones from my house to this separate cottage I call my creative home. If you’re not familiar with flagstones, I highly recommend getting one installed in your garden if you have the space (browse them here). It makes the trip from one building to another so much easier and it looks beautiful with the rest of the patio. I’m so pleased with how the build turned out! I relish the ability to wake up and walk this line of stones without worrying about whether I have enough gas in the car, whether the dog has had a good enough walk, whether there isn’t some pressing errand I should run on the way into the city, etc. It is simpler. I can get up and just cross the yard, and although I rarely work in my pajamas, I could.
Housing my studio in nature feels decidedly different. Yes, it is quieter and more solitary most days. But it is more than that. There are times where I truly feel that the natural world holds me – helps me to relax and move more deeply into my work. It anchors me to a different rhythm. As Angeles Arrien once explained to me, nature’s rhythm is medium to slow, whereas the dominant rhythm of our culture is intensely fast. Although my mind knows the fast track so very well, and can spin me into a frenzy anywhere anytime, when it takes a breather and looks around out here, a notch of stress in my shoulders loosens. This place is good to me.
A Seed is Planted
This blog has been a seed of an idea that I have been carrying around in my back pocket for months. It has been nurtured by my explorations of the blogosphere – by the pleasure and inspiration I have gleaned from blogs like Keri Smith’s Wish Jar. And it has been cultivated directly by my good friend, blogger Britt Bravo whose advice and input have helped me finally make the leap into blogging. I am deeply grateful for her help.
I start this blog with three hopes. The first is the hope that regularly reflecting on my creative process and sources of inspiration will encourage me to spend more time in both my actual art studio, and also in my inner studio — that creative state of mind that allows even the most ordinary of experiences to open up with creative possibility. There are so many distractions in life, and I want this blog to be a tool to help me stay grounded in my creative center.
The second hope is that the blog will generate connectivity. As a creative person working most often alone, it has been so heartening to read of other’s journeys through the artistic life. Blogs like On My Desk take the edge off of isolation. Seeing all these other wonderful workspaces inhabited by creative explorers like myself, I am filled with a wonder at how many creative people are out there working away at this thing called art. It gives me an instant sense of connection.
My third hope is that what I share here may light a spark for someone else who is surfing the web, looking for that sense of connection or a hit of inspiration — that I may be able to give something back to the blogosphere, which has given so freely to me.