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This week's topic for Friday September 22nd suggested by Gabi: TOOT YOUR OWN HORN... LOUD! "Studio Friday, for me, is a network of artists from all over the world. It's a fabulous way to communicate ...I would love to see a showcase of what YOUR art is. ...I'd love to see a piece that you have created that you are most proud of. SHOW off your STUFF!!" ~Gabi
This is hard, particularly for women, I think, because many of us were taught from an early age to be modest, but as working artists, I think a certain amount of horn-tooting is necessary (so thank you Gabi for the suggetion)... and my blog is definitely a place where I want to show my art - not just for exposure, but also for inspiration and feedback, and to allow me to feel that I am a part of a larger artistic community.
This is an altered book that I created last year, as a featured piece in a juried gallery show that I was fortunate to be able to do along with my friend, Debbie. The show was entitled "Facing Pages" and included swap journals, individual journals, handmade books and altered books. Although my personal journals are a treasured source of inspiration and therapy for me, this altered book was my favorite piece in the show. It tells a rather sad story, however...
A year after my husband and I bought our first house, we found a bird's nest in a large hanging pot of impatiens on our front porch. Every day, for five days, when I would take the pot down to water it, a new egg appeared in the nest. I very carefully watered around the nest to keep it dry, and I patiently awaited the arrival of the little birds who would be born among my flowers. I was so pleased that mama bird had chosen my porch as a safe spot for building the nest, and that my daily watering had not deterred her. I saw this as a symbol that this was indeed a wonderful home in which to live. One morning after watering, I returned to my kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. Moments later I heard a dull thud outside. I looked out toward our mailbox and driveway, thinking it might be a car door, or our mailman.
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