Capturing shadows

On sunny days, I'm always happy to see that first sliver of sun light up the studio wall (shown in the upper left image), and it was my inspiration/starting point for January's 'addendum' to the ROY G BIV challenge: classic black & white. The silhouette cast by the Paperwhites I mentioned in my last entry also enticed me, but good old fashioned sunlight has been hard to come by in the last week, and they began to shrivel before I got to fully explore their potential. When I saw that the forecast called for rain every day this week—which would make shadows a scarce commodity indeed—I took along my camera on an errand-session on Monday so I could photograph a few splashes of black & white that my daughter and I had noticed on an outing last week (yes, she is also keeping her eyes open for me each month). Just as Montepulciano obliged for 'VIOLET' in November, black & white was in abundance in the streets of Florence, and it wasn't hard to find a thread to hold together the collection of images.

But then the grey blanket of clouds began to dissipate for a spell on Tuesday, so I balanced a blank canvas adjacent to the studio window and, between bursts of sunlight, started grabbing random objects to create shadows. The sun played a fast-paced game of hide-and-seek with the clouds, testing my patience, but soon I slowed down and started to enjoy the process itself: as always, there's plenty to capture the imagination in the little street below, and the swiftly moving clouds created some magic moments of their own.

All images below are shadows on canvas—with the exception of the leftover paper cuttings, which are scattered on a piece of Fabriano Ingres. I am quite enamored by 'scraps' from projects, and took quite a few photos of the paper strips, but the shadows weren't very striking compared to the effect of the larger objects projected onto the vertical surface of the canvas.


Waiting for the sun to strengthen the shadow of my pruning shears...

A few items in the studio: drafting brush; paper strips leftover from trimming a project; scissors; T-square & triangle...

Things from around the house: lamp; gingerbread man cookie cutter; hangers...

And the Paperwhites...

 

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The images from Monday's excursion are so different in spirit that I will post them tomorrow (though here's a peek)...

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And, meanwhile, another idea for capturing black & white came to mind; they will make a good introduction to one of the elements of my 12x12 project, so I'll post them in a few days. Here's a sneak peak...

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{I am still collecting names for the one-year-on-Blogger drawing. In case

you didn't see my last entry, anyone who leaves a comment or emails me by

the end of January will be eligible to win the item of their choice from my shop.

At the time, the end of January didn't seem that far away, though now I'm

realizing how long a wait is actually is! Thanks for your patience...}

One year ago today...

One year ago today I posted my first entry on the reinvented version of 'Arzigogolare'. To mark the beginning of this next year of blogging, I've decided to have a giveaway. Anyone who leaves a comment on this post—or any others I write before the end of January— will have a chance to win the item of their choice from my online shop. (You may send me an email if you prefer.) On the first of February, the names will go into a bag, box or basket, and I'll ask my daughter to choose one.

Today seems like a good time to share a few thoughts about my ongoing quest to record my creative life on a blog. One reason I switched to Blogger last year was to be a bit more 'sociable'. Sure enough, before long, I found two groups/projects to participate in—Book Art Object & A Letter a Week. I also started 'following' other artist's blogs and, in turn, learned of still others. This eventually led to joining in on the ROY G BIV photo challenge, which I really enjoyed. I have found a lot of inspiration, motivation and support during this blogging adventure, and am looking forward to continuing this year.

My initial plan was to write shorter, more frequent posts—to be 'less precious with my words'—but at one point I acknowledged that this simply is not my style.  Unfortunately, I am a very slow writer, and like to thoroughly...slowly...indulge myself in the pleasure of the editing process (many blog drafts are waiting in the wings). Still, the desire to record more, and to share more, is there. I actually spent the first couple of weeks of December planning a 'Twelve Days of Christmas' giveaway, which would have gone hand in hand with twelve posts featuring a dozen projects either completed last year or carrying over into 2013. In retrospect, when I think about the traveling we did over Christmas, and then for New Year's as well, it seems like a crazy idea. Still, it would have been fun to follow through, so I'll keep it in mind for another time...

Besides being frequently foiled by the amount of energy & organization it seems to take me to pull together a post, I have also sometimes suffered from a bit of an 'identity crisis', meaning that I'm not always sure who my readers are, and therefore what interests them. When I first began the Arzigogolare blog in 2009, my audience was mainly people who had read The Piazzas of Florence (since that was the initial impetus for my website & blog), but then it began to include customers for PaperSynthesis, my online shop, as well. (If the latter, you wouldn't have found very much happening in the shop during 2012, as most of my time went toward the development of new projects). And now it seems that, going by those who leave (much-appreciated) comments, many of you are artists. In any case, I hope that—however you managed to find your way here—there's something of interest for each of you, between updates on the latest happenings in the studio, the details of everyday life in Florence & PaperSynthesis news. I am always trying to better integrate the different parts of my life, so it feels right to me to continue bringing everything together in a single place.

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In honor of this new year of blogging—and a fresh new year of projects—I decided to completely empty my studio desk today (see photo above). I actually use the dining table as my main studio table, as a smaller table serves our usual 'party of 2' just fine...and you can never have too much work space. Along with all other horizontal surfaces (including the floor & the steps up to the 'attic'), the table is usually extremely cluttered, so I am basking in its serene emptiness tonight.

One of the things I finally hope to bring to life this year is the 12x12 project I had mentioned a few times last year; while I carried it forth quietly, and allowed it to guide some of my blog posts, it was still evolving as the year unfolded. Basically, it's a way to mark/record/define the passing of the year in a dozen different ways. This year I hope to talk more about the twelve monthly elements: words, colors, materials, flowers, recipes, fruits, books, to name a few.

And on that note, white is the color I associate with January: it's a time of fresh new beginnings—like an empty page or a blank canvas waiting for words, lines, color...a story. Even down to its being white, the studio table (momentarily cleared) seems like a perfect symbol for this first month of the year.

Continuing the theme of white, below is a peak at my favorite winter flower—Paperwhites—which I was thrilled to find yesterday (they are rare in Florence for some reason). I had a ball photographing them this afternoon, and will post some images once I have a chance to sort through them.

Much of the month so far has been spent gathering things—materials, photos, ideas—so my word for this January is 'gather'. More soon...in the meanwhile, happy gathering to all of you.

On the twelfth day of Christmas...

 
It's hard to believe we are already ensconced in 2013. I thought I would be able to manage a 'Twelfth Day of Christmas' post with plenty of time to spare, but ended up getting distracted by the photos I was selecting from...so now it's officially (the wee hours of) Epiphany in Italy—and time to say 'buona Befana' (read a few details about La Befana in this post). Some of the world is still enjoying the last of those famous 'twelve days' though, so I will carry on with what I started.

As I was sorting through photos earlier today, with an eye toward finally putting together a holiday greeting, I came across a lot of red. Since I began participating in last year's ROY G BIV color challenge just after the 'RED' month (but had always meant to make up for it at some point), I decided to focus on red this afternoon. Between making our first-ever tiramisù (delicious! I'll translate the recipe we used & post it at some point), the engrossing search for red & a movie night with my daughter, I never did get to the holiday cards—maybe some people will find their way here...

First are a few images of a cyclamen plant that my mother bought when she and my father first arrived in Italy mid-December. Pleased though I was (I had been meaning to buy something Christmas-y, so it was such a nice surprise to find it on the dining table), I must admit that I've never had a true appreciation for cyclamens...maybe this is because they are as common as poinsettias here during the holidays. It seems the best way for me to find beauty in something is to spend some time getting to know it a little better. This often means pulling out the camera, so I brought the cyclamen into the studio one afternoon and took a fresh look at it through the lens.

I found the velvety petals to be very beautiful when considered individually, especially the almost haphazard way they unfurl. I also liked finding the tightly rolled buds hidden among the reddish-purple stems. But I think my favorite discovery happened when I crouched down and looked up at the undersides of the flowers...they are surprisingly 'structured', and in fact, almost appear to be inside out—as if the underside is actually the inside of the blossom—much like an umbrella that's been turned inside-out by a strong gust of wind (perhaps you can see what I mean in the lower right image).

The lighting was a little harsh/cold, so I tried to tone down the images to compensate for the contrast between the red & white. (The photo at the top has been blatantly photoshopped; I liked the composition of the mass of petals, but they were rendered overly vibrant in the available light...I do miss the abundance of warm sunshine and its assistance with photo-taking!)

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Below are a few more red-themed images, taken at Florence's rose garden/in the studio:

• the early stages of the fruits of a miniature pomegranate tree
• a fragrant Modì, an apple I discovered this past fall—a beautiful balance between crisp & sweet
• my favorite Venetian glass bead necklace
• brand new leaves emerging from a festive-looking bush
• a split pomegranate that the birds have been enjoying 
• detail of a favorite embroidered wall hanging I bought in Beijing several years ago

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And—to conclude the 'Twelve Days of Christmas'—a twelfth & final image, with the faintest hint of red-tinged leaves soon after sunrise in Montepulciano last week ...

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{Jennifer Coyne Qudeen & Julie Booth are proposing a continuation of the 'addendum' to ROY G BIV for January—this time a combo of black & white. Click here for the guidelines if you'd like to play along on the third Thursday of the month (17 January).}

From a to z

Just in time to post my second alphabet for A Letter a Week! (Some background on the project can be found in this post & my first alphabet can be seen on the ALaW blog here.) This alphabet is inspired by the theme 'Going Dotty', meaning it somehow incorporates dots/circles/pixels. It ended up very different from my original concept, which was to have assumed the form of a large 'cube' composed of twenty-seven 7-cm cubes—one for each letter of the alphabet + a 'title' cube. Each cube would have explored a way in which dots/circles are used to communicate/represent/express things in our world...the 'C' cube was to have featured columns as represented in architectural drawings; 'N' focused on musical notes; braille for 'B'; places on maps, i.e. towns & cities, for 'P'; knots for 'K', Venn diagrams for 'V', star maps for 'S' and so on. But as the weeks of the second part of the year flew past, I realized I needed to simplify the project in order to finish in time.

I thought about simply devoting a single cube face to each letter and its subject (instead of an entire cube), but then, as I was making polenta one day, the formation of circles when oil was added to the water caught my attention. I quickly photographed the pan of spotted water with the idea of indulging in some play time with Photoshop later. By using the 'Selective Color' sliders (found under 'Image': 'Adjustments'), going through 'red', 'yellow' & so on (then sometimes returning to a color again after going through the whole menu of colors), I was able to give the incredibly boring photograph some very interesting colors. I then applied the 'Palette Knife' filter to soften the circles a bit. By repeating the 'Selective Color' process on the newly saved image, I was able to further vary the colors, and ended up with a whole rainbow of 'marbled' patterns.

I chose six of my favorite versions—one for each of the six cube faces. Next I spent some time considering words of nine letters or less, with the idea that the letters of each color would form a word. I wanted to include each letter of the alphabet at least once, for a complete 'alphabet'. Despite the flexibility gained from the availability of 54 faces, finding words that used all of the letters was much more difficult than I expected (perhaps because I limited myself to words that I associated with living a creative life).

Many words had to be eliminated because their letters were too 'common'. After filling several journal pages with various letter/word combos, I got out the Scrabble tiles (which were immensely helpful).

These are the words I chose:

be amazed
explore
question
make/give
create joy
wish/find

And here are the 'words' (click to see a larger view)...

I was disappointed to see that I'd forgotten to mask each 'marbled' design—my original intention was that the letters would each feature a different ninth of the design (somehow I realized this only after printing, assembling & photographing the cubes). It would also have been interesting to devote some time photographing the formations that occur when oil joins water—to see the variety that could come from the process. Overall, though, I am happy with this collection of lettered cubes; they are feel good in the hand & are fun to play with.

By the way, this is the original, very humble, image...

And here is a jumble of letters...

 

And a few shots of the cubes taking shape...

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I hope the year is ending on a good note for everyone. 2012 has brought many wonderful things for me, but these last days have been tinged with sadness...my grandmother—the one I wrote about in this post—passed away on Christmas night. Her ninety-one years were good ones, and she has been ready to join my grandfather for some time now. It is hard to accept that she is no longer here, but I am glad that she is finally at peace...

May you find peace, and much joy, in 2013...

Out of the darkness

I have consciously tried not to anxiously await the date when the days begin to grow longer. This goes for any other definable moments in the future...wishing time away seems like a terrible waste when it is so precious. That said, I can't help but feel elated that those of us in the northern hemisphere have made the shift toward longer days—imperceptible though it is. (Imagine how people living in the Arctic Circle must feel!)

In the past I've noticed that sunrise & sunset continue to remain pretty much the same for a while after the solstice, but I only just realized that this is alluded to by the word's etymology:

solstice |ˈsōlstis|
ORIGIN Middle English: from Old French, from Latin solstitium, from sol ‘sun’ + stit- ‘stopped, stationary’ (from the verb sistere).

With the sun hovering at more or less the same light/darkness ratio during this period—for example, between 30 November & 18 December, the variation of the time of sunset was a mere +1/-1 minute—the sun's rising & setting time has indeed stopped its usual faster rate of change. In fact, we will have only two seconds more of light tomorrow than today (and it may well be a couple of extra moments of gray)...but by the second of January we will have worked ourselves up to a nine-hour day!

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And now, back to this month's ROY G BIV challenge (see my last entry if you missed it)... My original plan was to use photos of last year's winter solstice. We had gathered ceramic & glass containers from all over the house & put tea light candles in them, filling the living room with light. I suppose because I remembered the candles/some of the candle 'holders' and the tablecloth being white, I thought the photos would be suitable for the 'white' theme, but in fact the best shots showed the glowing light against a black background—fitting in spirit, perhaps, but not in color.

So, today seemed like the better day to post a couple of those images of last year's winter solstice ritual. Last Christmas's gingerbread cookies, my favorite 'star' lights, and one morning's cappuccino also feature in this quartet.

In last year's blog entry (from the former 'Arzigogolare'), written on the day of the winter solstice, I recalled our first one in this apartment. I will never forget how my plans went awry:

I bundled together fifty white taper candles with a ribbon to serve as the centerpiece for our evening meal. Unfortunately, I had underestimated the intensity of their combined heat: the fifty flames joined forces, fusing the candles into a single mass almost instantly. In a matter of seconds, the wax began flowing all over the table, then dripping on the rug, before we managed to extinguish the flames!

In contrast, last year's celebration was considerably more serene—and that is what I hope for around the world tonight, whether you are enjoying the shortest day of your year or the longest.

{My source for sunrise/sunset times (and much more) is this site.}

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Even though the whole gingerbread cookie dough/baking/decorating process often takes us three days, last year it was accomplished in record time, with great success. This weekend we will be making cookies with my parents in Montepulciano, so it should be even easier!

{The recipe for the cookies can be found here.}

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And now a couple of PaperSynthesis-related notes... Saturday, 22 December is the last day to order electronic gift cards to be sent out this year; there are some new choices in the shop, under the listing in the 'Calendars+GiftCards+' category. (Orders are accepted at any time, but will not be sent until 2 January if placed after tomorrow.) Also, items ordered by Monday 7 January 2012 will ship for free during the week of 14 January. A few more of the new items I have been working on this year will be showing up in the shop soon as well... 

White & shadow

Few words today, but plenty of images. As research for my BookArtObject edition (Mise en place), I have been wanting to photograph little dishes and bowls and other kitchen-y things, and yesterday's gorgeous sun brought all that these pieces needed to entice & enthrall me. I had such fun! Since many of the things I gathered happened to be white, they also seemed perfect for this month's ROY G BIV challenge. In the brief time that the sun was in the studio, the light changed considerably, so there are cool whites/shadows and warm whites/shadows...and many whites in between.

If you look under my suggestions for "Inspiring places to visit' in the sidebar, you'll note several blogs are featuring 'White' today...I'm just off for a look myself.

A few more white-themed images will follow tomorrow, and maybe a few more words as well...

Beginning to think about the new year

I can't imagine Florence without the Arno. It's like a shimmery version of a piazza, offering a lovely pause amid the otherwise dense urban fabric. I love how it changes with the weather, the time of day and the season. Sometimes glittering silver, other times taking on a shade of olive green—or blue, or brown—there are also those serene autumn afternoons when the palazzi cast copper and gold onto the water, creating reflections that look too dazzling to be true. The water turns bright green in the presence of grass or trees that sprout along the banks, and the sunset can light it on fire. Sometimes, for example early in the day, controluce, the river is so pale that it appears practically colorless.

It's not just the rainbow of colors that appeals to me, but also the sense of structure found in many of the reflections. Orderly rows of windows overlooking the Arno reflect as vertical bands of alternating light and dark, while the narrow streets that end at the river's edge create dark abysses between the reflections of buildings. With one side catching the light and the other in shadow, corner buildings appear as two differently-colored rectangles side by side. The arches of the Uffizi's river-facing façade create their own distinctive pattern, as do the towers and bridges. Depending on the texture of the water (which in turn relies on the whim of the wind), the reflections are either perfectly mirrored, or abstract beyond recognition—fascinatingly so, in either case.

The Arno's ever-changing palette & personality has inspired many photos over the years. I've brought together a dozen (from the last 14 months or so) for Florence Reflected, a calendar I designed for the fast-approaching New Year. Here are a few photos showing how it came out...

And below is the cover, followed by a composite image of all twelve months. {The calendar can now be found in my online shop, PaperSynthesis.}

 Here's hoping that these last weeks of 2012 are merry & bright...

Words emerge - Updated

Back in May I wrote a post about my early days with found poems (here). In the months since then, a number of questions have come up: 1) should I use the original pages or create reproductions; 2) what color of threads to use + how to weave them & knot them + whether or not to wax the threads; 3) should the pages be mounted to a background and, if so, what would be a good choice?

1. When it came to deciding if I should use the original pages from these old books, my answer came the moment I began sewing the first trial page. The over 100-year-old paper simply felt too fragile, and was certainly not archival. This led to the decision to digitally reproduce the pages as closely as possible, using a scan of the original. I then selected papers that shared some of the same characteristics as the book pages in terms of color & texture. Some of the pages from the original books are deckled/torn, thought not consistently so; borrowing their spirit, I deckled the poems on all four sides (which I also think helps them to stand on their own).
2. The earlier experiments sewing over the words that didn't belong to the poem entailed knotting the ends of each line on the front of the page, but I ended up preferring a less 'distracting' method that emphasizes the shape of the text block, in which the knots end up on the back. Lines of thread on the back also mark out the poem's presence on the front side. At first I wasn't sure if I should wax the threads, but decided to for the sake of strength/durability (as well as for my sanity...waxing the threads before use prevents headache-inducing knotting & tangling). The effect is a bit crisper this way—and not as 'full'—but I do think it suits the direction I ended up taking with these pieces.
3. My initial thought was to use marbled papers as backgrounds; I have a nice collection made by a local Florentine artist, and they seemed relevant since marbled papers are traditionally used in bookbinding/as end papers. Inspired by the appearance of the word 'silver' in one of the poems, I tried out an iridescent silver paper for its background; I like the simplicity of this look as well. Each 'background' paper is also adhered to 285g Fabriano Rosaspina for a bit of structure before the poem is sewn on.

Answering the questions led to the decision to also offer all poems without the background/border, and sewn with natural-colored thread that blends in with the page. Because each item in my shop is individually made, I have also given the option to create customized versions with other papers found in my shop.

All of those decisions came before the poems had even been 'found'! I'm not sure just how many hours I devoted to allowing the words to emerge—or how many revisions they then underwent over the last six months—but I have to say that it was most enjoyable. I love how certain phrases would capture my fancy, and the many possibilities/directions they offered. Because of the challenge of following a thread (so to speak), or finding some kind of narrative—which, in keeping with the concept of the found poem, had to flow in a predetermined order, and without traditional punctuation—each piece also comes with a postcard-sized version of the found poem arranged in lines showing the rhythm I had in mind as they came together.

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Photographing the pieces over the last week or two has been a challenge because of the lack of natural light, but I thought I'd share some of the photos I did manage to take. The sun does feature in a few, like those of the threads as I was separating each strand from the skein of six...I love the effect of the remaining strands as they bunch up—looks like a nightmare of a tangle, but isn't!

• '183/A Place of Wonder & Delight', sewn with green threads to a multicolored marbled paper background. {Note that in the second image the shadows of the sewn threads blend in with the threads themselves, making them appear rather thick & uneven. There is also another view of the finished poem at the end of this post.}

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• '120/A Fascination Lost', sewn with variegated threads to a marbled paper in autumn-tones.

 

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• 'In the Stillness', sewn with natural threads to a terracotta/chocolate/charcoal/gold marbled paper background.

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• "122/Much Wandering & Whispering", sewn with silver threads to a pearly silver background. {Again, the shadows cast by the threads are a bit distracting, and it's difficult to make out that they are grey/silver against the paper.}

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Below are a few images of the final process: the holes (shown on the back of the page); the basket of threads that I chose from; the backs of the pages, with the knotted threads.

The four finished pieces together...

 


As a reminder, this project first began here...

...and here's the ending place (at least for now)...

I do hope to revisit the found poems at some point, either to create new ones or explore other ways of presenting them...perhaps when I make my way further through the backlog of projects. In the meanwhile, thanks for following the process with me...

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{PaperSynthesis update: the Rose Garden calendar is now in the shop, and a calendar featuring a palette of Arno reflections will follow shortly. The found poems should be in the shop in the next day or two are now in the shop.}