Category Archives: Art

Collaborative Collage

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A year or so ago, I began sticking the labels from bananas up on the blank ugly white side of the cupboard near my sink.  Over the past year, I’ve added interesting liquor bottle tops with their sides  cut to sunburst out around them, beer bottle caps  and a little virgin plaque my friend Judy gave me.  Imagine my surprise when I looked up yesterday and saw that Yolanda had decided to cut out a cane of Caffeine Free Diet Coke from the side the the carton of it I had in  the fridge!  A friend I told about it didn’t see the humor of it but I loved it.  She certainly knows me, and all those rum bottle caps just didn’t cut it without a bit of Caffeine Free Diet Coke to add to the mix!  At $2 a can (if and when it is even available in Mexico) the Caffeine Free Diet Coke is by far the most expensive thing up there per serving, which certainly adds an air of the exotic.

Purposeful

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 PURPOSEFUL

Playing with paper pulp
Under
Redwood trees was the
Penultimate, but not the
Only
Special
Experience
Fulfilling my life.
Until I lose
Life, I hope to be

Living
It
Fully.  Life is as
Exciting as we make it!

 

 

“I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.” – Kurt Vonnegut 

 

The prompt today was “Purpose.”  https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/purpose/

Playing with Flowers: Flower of the Day, May 7, 2016

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Which do you prefer? A non perfect image can still be fun to play with.

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For more flowers: https://ceenphotography.com/2016/05/06/flower-of-the-day-may-4-2016-bearded-iris-2/

Beach Walk

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We still love La Manzanilla, don't we? We know that all will soon be back to normal, the laguna once more sealed off, the crocodiles sealed off from the beaches and coastline, and the beaches and water once more inviting to human habitation.
It was 35 years ago that I first ran away from home to go live at the beach.  For the past 15 years, I have never lived more than 4 hours away from the ocean, and for 20 years before that, I was within 20 miles of it. During these years, I have written hundreds of pages of poems and stories about the the beach, and as I sat here for two hours today, reworking what perhaps was one of the first poems I ever wrote as I spent a year going to the beach every day to write, it suddenly occurred to me that I would rather be doing art, using the boxes of material collected on the beach during the two months I spent there this year, than writing about the experience. I’ve already done that, and here is where you can find it: https://judydykstrabrown.com/category/beach-poems/

That URL will get you to the most recent beach poems. (You’ll need to scroll down past this one once you’ve clicked on the URL above.)  To see earlier ones, go to the archives (near the bottom of the scroll next to a poem entitled “flip flop”)  and select November, 2014 or December, 2014 for older poems.

Please join me in beach combing by taking a walk backwards—as far as you choose to go—through three years of beach poems—reading and looking at what you wish. Some poems you may just walk by or pick up in your hands and then cast away. Others you may examine closely, reading them in their entirety. And some, I hope, you will choose to store away on the shelf of your mind to remind you that you came from the sea and it is always there for you to go back to.

Now, for the rest of the day, I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do for a month and a half now—unpack some of the boxes of shells, stones, bones, sand, corroded metal, driftwood and assorted beach trash found on the beach as well as uncompleted “found” sculptures begun in January and February. Then, I’ll  “do” for a day instead of writing about it.

Please enjoy your beach combing today as I’ll enjoy mine.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/beach/

Carol Lopez Studio Peek

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Carol Lopez is a La Manzanilla resident who like many others spends the hottest months in Canada.  Since I have been as charmed by her house as her art, I have decided to share both with you.

If you click on the first photo, it will enlarge and reveal the caption, which will be the story to go along with the photos of Carol’s La Manzanilla world. Clicking on the arrow will take you to the next photograph.

You enter these gates to submerge yourself in Carol’s world.
I used this image for an earlier photo challenge that dealt with composition of geometrical shapes. I said then that I love the blend of organization and wildness. A pretty compostition for a still life.
Carol awaits inspiration
I love how she captures the mood and flavor of La Manzanilla in her paintings.
Her palette.
Her enthusiasm.
Then I realized it was my own piece–one of a series of six sacred places for women. This is one of my story collages that Carol purchased to give to her sister.
Art Studio
Light yet bold, her canvasses never feel contrived. As you can see here, no room is devoid of her art.
From the studio, just turn left, walk down the hall past Carol’s helper,
past two hats that look like they are being punished––
into her open-sided sala. Here very low walls furnish only part of the sides of her room and house. The rest of her privacy is provided by bougainvillea vines. These are walls that require no paint––only water.
Airy drapes can be pulled for a scrim effect.
Again, her front walls that face the street are comprised of bougainvillea vines.
An ice cream cart and a display of shirts–touched upon just right in these two wonderful pieces.
I see streetlights, a traffic barrier, trees, buildings, a park bench. What do you see? I’m sure Carol would say this is unfinished. What will its next phase reveal?
In the sala, take a left
and you’re in the dining room
Carol Lopez, artist
Gotta show her newly completed kitchen cabinets with wonderful pull out drawers for everything.
Another still life waiting to be painted.
Santa Fe or La Manzanilla? This painting has to look familiar to anyone familiar with Mexico.

 

Thanks for coming along with me on this studio peek. Another will soon follow that covers the upstairs casita of Carol’s house–and the other artist who lives there.

For more information about Carol, go HERE.

Hidden

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Hidden

The parts of us that we conceal
as well as parts that we reveal
make up who we really are.
Our eye fixed on that distant star
in dark of night that no one sees
and what we think while at our ease––

these hidden aspects of our lives
that we tell neither friends nor wives
might be more of our history
than what you hear and what you see.
We recognize that special sense
that some let slip when feeling tense––

an energy that goes unseen
during life’s banal routine.
It hints perhaps at inner life
divided from the roil and strife
of doing what the whole world does
from day to day simply because

it’s what moves our world along––
the business, be it bread or song
that we produce to fuel each other––
what we provide to give our brother
in trade for what he gives to us––
the “stuff” of life––the trade and fuss.

Our inner gardens we keep inside,
their harvests richer if we hide
them deep within to grow and thrive.
They are what keep our souls alive
to grow more bountiful day by day
until we choose to give away

all we’ve grown there in the shade––
theorems and the sonnets made––
all those thoughts and sounds and seeings
that seem to come from other beings
living somewhere deep inside
where they have chosen to live and hide.

These hidden parts that we conceal––
that through our art we may reveal––
these parts reached by our daily delves
into what feel like other selves––
these places that produce the yield
are treasure houses we’ve concealed.

So at those times we break the seal
and let out how we really feel––
sing the song we’ve kept inside,
paint truths from our inner guide?
It is not God, muses or elves.
We’ve simply shared our hidden selves.

(Click on photos to enlarge)

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/conceal/

“No Soggy Doggies” and other Found Beach Stories

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My rental house at the beach is no place to socialize three dogs raised behind high walls and accustomed only to their own company.  At home on Lake Chapala, their relationships with other dogs consist completely of sitting on the roof and barking at every dog who dares walk by my house.  I miss them, but they are well-cared for by Maggie, who is housesitting. The found art piece dedicated to them as well as a few others recently completed are shown below. All of these sculptures were assembled by me over the past two months from assorted plants, shells, bones, wood and other objects found on the beach during my morning walks.

(Click on first photo to enlarge.  Then click on each arrow to view other enlarged photos. After viewing all photos, click on X at top left of screen to return to this page.  A link to other found art wall sculptures recently completely is given at the bottom of this page.)

Dressed-up Detritus Bird
Vaquero (sold)
Parrot
I Miss My Dogs.
I Miss My Dogs (detail) This single flip flop found on the beach made me think of Morrie. In truth, he’s only eaten one of mine, but they were my favorite pair of Crocs.
I Miss My Dogs (detail). Any one of my three dogs, left at home with a housesitter, would have made quick work of this bone washed ashore with the tide.

Go HERE to view recently made found art sculptures shown in an earlier post.

I responded to today’s one word prompt, “Object” as a noun.  Here is the link for the prompt, in case you want to see how others responded:   https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/object/

Freshly “Found”

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Here are a few of the found art wall pieces I’ve just completed.  They are all constructed of material collected on the beach of La Manzanilla during morning walks.

(Click on first photo to enlarge all, then click on arrows to see next photo.)

Evolution
The Protector
The Protector (detail)
Dos Aguilas
Dos Aguilas (detail)
Dos Aguilas (detail)

 

La Manz Studio Peek: Mazinka Rutherford

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Up a very steep hill to the very top–and you’ll find a Shangri-la worth the climb.  It is the  adobe and palapa home of mosaic and mixed-media artist Mazinka Rutherford.  Her art is such an integral part of her house that the entire environment is like a mixed-media assemblage.  Here are some of its ingredients:

(To see the photos in an enlarged format, click on first photo, then click on each arrow to proceed through the gallery.)

All of the art pictured is by her creation.  One of the homes on the site is for rent.  The adobe was hand built by Anaxazi’s competent hand with Mazinka as helper.  She did the gorgeous tilework in the bathroom floor that is pictured above.  He also built the adobe/bamboo/palapa treehouse that I stayed in five years ago that is the setting for this video. The woman pictured is, of course, Mazinka.

Sculptor in the Sand

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                                                                     Sculptor in the Sand

Mario Gagnon is retired from his life as a hospital maintenance engineer in Quebec, but when we retire from our profession, we do not retire from our interests, and his lifetime fondness for what he calls “decorating” comes with him when he comes to the beach.  Like most of those camping beachside, he has made the palapa living area of his campsite “homely” in only one usage of the word.  From hammocks to wall sconces fashioned from fruiting bundles of palm trees, his environs are beautiful in addition to comfortable.

I revisited him yesterday, partially because I’d forgotten to take a picture of him when I met him on the second day I visited, but I was also there because of my curiosity over whether he altered his sculpture each day.  I did find him fussing with the tail of the iguana, but that was perhaps just staging for the bypasser who was currently taking his picture.  When the “interloper” (kidding) departed, it was my turn.

This time it was a female neighbor who translated for us and she explained to me something that I had not cottoned on to the first time we’d met.  “He can’t understand you because he is deaf and he can’t read your lips because he doesn’t speak English!  Formerly, I had thought his friend was interpreting only because of the language barrier, and when I spoke Spanish, thinking it was closer to French, it hadn’t helped much either. Trying to imagine what the beach would be like without its sounds to accompany it,  I asked him if he could feel the pounding of the surf. “Yes, he told me, “because I am deaf, my other senses are stronger.  When I smell a fire, I can tell how long ago it was lit, what is burning and what was used to start the fire.”

This dapper, handsome man was generous in sharing his art, his home away from home and his time.  Here are some of the pictures I took of his world:

(Please click on first photo to enlarge and view gallery.)

The artist––Mario Gagnon
Palm fruiting pod sconces
The artist at rest
When I asked if I could photograph his living space, “Wait, wait!” he cried and scurried around perfecting his environment.

If you didn’t see the first segment I did on Mario’s wonderful beach sculpture of the iguana, to see it, go HERE.