The Musings of Molly

A blog primarily chronicling the artistic and writerly endeavors of a girl who moves with the change in wind patterns, and is always trying to puzzle out, and explore the life given.

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Sky and all

And after a nice hike with my dog and some gentle drying time in the sun, here it is via the digital camera's interpretation.

Fiber Arting

I once had this fantasy of owning a farm where I had my own personal sheep out in the back yard, sheep that graciously gifted me use of their fur to hand dye in my barn and spin into glorious yarns. In that same barn I would have bolts of cloth that too shared in the dying process, hand painted to make the most stunning fibers and with these two fibers I would make fabulous eye catching pieces unlike any made before. People would talk about the artist who lived in the big barn up the dirt road. I would have artshows where I would carefully package everything up, complete with labels of "Moondust" and "Magic's Past" because who wouldn't look a touch closer at something labeled "Moondust"? In the meantime, while my sheep are far in my future, I have been working on my first half sewing machine, half hand-sewn quilt for my adorable nephew. I am still adjusting to the ease of a sewing machine--relating well to those women who stubbornly refused to learn a machine when their hands could work faster :) (My personal sewing machine is off location at present--we have a much better relationship.)


Today is a lovely hot summer day in New England. Unlike most days here where the heat brings forth an entourage of irritating nibbling bugs, this hot day is early for New England and the bugs have yet to receive the message that the heat has returned. So I have been spending my morning working on this painting--a wedding present for a friend of mine who went to the school pictured in the painting. With the window open I enjoy the whistling of birds, soft sound of highway traffic and the overall sunny disposition of the day below. The watercolor moves along at a steady pace and I am happy with the way the tiny details are emerging from the soft pencil--subtler than my typical use of black line. 

Tuesday, April 21, 2009


     As I go about applying for various jobs I am tickled with the idea of definitions. What is one who enjoys creating art? What is the value of segregating the various "areas" of art? I am one who likes to illustrate, but just as easily I like to have a big blank canvas in front of me and in lieu of my time at art school, the digital world of graphic design is fun and intriguing to me. But there are crafts like beading, sculpy beads, seed beads, quilting, embroidering... right alongside of ceramic sculpting and charcoal sketching. I like making cards for special people and occasions, I like putting together neat layouts to make a text look that much flashier. I like them all. So then one might ask, "What type of art is it that you do?" And I would be inclined to say all art (save metal smithing because I genuinely did not enjoy that course). Yet "all art" sounds so general.   So, what type of art do I do?
     I am an artist connoisseur. I specialize in a range of art mediums and styles. I am an artisan. My mind works in color and spacial recognition. I cannot help but to think as an artist of all sorts. I am a Jane-of-all-arts. I am attracted to working in many areas of the arts.
     Perhaps instead of searching for a noun, I should be looking for an adjective coupled with a noun...

Friday, April 17, 2009

Second Wind

This week has been a revival week. After a month of travel spurts, or visitors, it has been challenging to get back into my routine of devoting time to writing and art. I note I've become more of a ponderer less of an active participant save a day or two here and there. Well unless you count web-design (ugg). However, I find I am smoothing out that ripple in my routine and am surprisingly rather focused. I am happy to report postcards are being ordered, a step towards making my dream career a possibility. And, on top of that, my routine of a daily sketch has successfully been achieved for a whopping three days now :) Thanks Toast. I will happily post the latest of my snoozing dog later.
I have discovered that it is often easier for me to illustrate when working with a text. As a writer, I have a tendency to be stubborn that this text ought to be my own. Somehow, the art I do, ie. sketches, in my brain registers as art, or practice, but not specific illustration. So, I have spent this past month digging out the old children's literature stories from college and have started the process of storyboarding... and editing. As I have been working on my biography of Trina Schart Hyman consistently, the process of writing and editinig is fresh and I enjoy that work right alongside my present sketching/storyboarding. So, as today is an open day from web-design work, I'm off for a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee--yes, I've been converted to a coffee drinker (two sugars for me please!) and back to the drawing board.

Monday, April 13, 2009


     Today I went to Keene State College's Rhodes Hall--a wonderful building filled with floor to ceiling illustrations from famous children's book artists. I was visiting my mom before giving a presentation to her class and like always, as I wait for her to wrap things up in her office, I find myself wandering out into the hallway to look at the collection of owls. Dr. White, the "curator" of the gallery, has set up a tradition where illustrators could contribute their own interpretation of an owl to support the literature festival as Keene's mascot is the owl. 
     Often I admire the owls, observing the uniqueness of each be it David Shannon's owl with it's bulging eyes, and desperate clutching of a coffee mug, to Betsy Lewin's very soft sketchy Barr Owl--a style I don't typically associate with Lewin (illustrator of Click Clack Moo). I love the diversity of the owls. I love the way one hundred people (they celebrated their 100th owl this year) can create such different images when all provided with the same subject. I also love guessing who did what based on styles, just as I like being amazed at how one looks so foreign from the artist's style that I am struck, intrigued if you will, that other people, other artists, also might share my challenge of multiple styles. And secretly, I love feeling like my artistic sense can have a place amongst these owls--that I can create as well as some, and learn from many others that share a space on the wall.

Thursday, April 9, 2009


      Today after countless days of staring at my map covered canvas, I decided to sit down in my chair. I note the importance of this as it seems that is what I do, avoid the chair, avoid the chair that is set up for writing, avoid the chair that is set up for painting, because if I avoid the chair I can avoid focusing my world down to creating. Sounds contradictory when I declare myself an artist and writer, but this is the truth. I spend a fair amount of time thinking about what I'll be painting as I scoot about my ten by fourteen foot room tidying it up, peeking at my canvas, just as I spend a fair amount of time thinking about my biography of Trina Schart Hyman, toting along the latest notes to add in to the Artist chapter. But it seems, when I am ready, I am ready. So today was one such day.
      I tugged my paint-splattered overalls down from the closet, threw on my checker-boarded-ugly-as-sin shirt I purchased once at a thrift store, dug around for my crocheted christmas colored hat and sat down in the chair to address the canvas. Addressing a canvas involves patience. I have countless people mention my need to be patient with myself--a flaw I have not successfully avoided, my canvas doesn't escape this either. I toss paint around thrilled to mix a color here, a color there, smell the oil paint on my brush, rub it into my overalls, rub it into the painting, but above all, I am not inclined to be patient enough to measure and take my time with whatever it is I am painting. Consequently, after my map was throughly covered in skin color, I had to go back and patiently remeasure everything so that my face no longer looked like a squished hot dog but rather a human face in profile. 
    I should have been Jackson Pollock.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Testing testing 1, 2, 3

This is a test to see if this works.