The latest post from Little House on the Suburban Prairie.

Warning: really trivial post about stretcher bars. yawn.

Short of going door-to-door looking for a stretcher builder. I have tried to research the best and most economical options for making large paintings again. And hint, "fast" is not going to be part of the equation. First off, the two local art supply stores have sold out of canvas and supplies thanks to the local college students, and second, I'd rather not buy storeboughts for large scale.

I have an order on hold with one of the mail order companies. It is on hold because they emailed me the cost of making dado cuts on my cross-braces. $5.50 per cut. I need 24 cuts. That's $132 for just cuts. As it stands, I've probably wasted $132 in hourly wages trying to come up with a cheaper solution, but that's besides the point. Perhaps $132 doesn't sound like much, but I am building my own. When the cost of building my own (materials only) sneaks over the halfway mark to the cost of someone building them for me, I begin to question the whole thing.

More research.
I love aluminum stretchers. When I was slightly more flush, I used aluminum stretchers. I swore I'd never go back to wood. I watched a video about a company that makes and ships aluminum stretcher bars, and saw how frgiggging simple and painless it was to assemble them. They are pricey, even unassembled. Then there's the whole shipping from California thing.
Evaluation: Not doing aluminum without grant money right now.

My order for pre-fab stretcher bars is still on hold. The woman in charge of the order is nice. It's not their company that's charging the mark-up; it's the stretcher bar supplier.

I looked around for other brands of precut stretcher bars and precut crossbraces. They exist. Some are cheaper, but they don't carry my size, or are out, or look to be more way more complex than my needs. I am stretching canvas, not a sheet of lead.

I looked into what equipment I would need to make my own dado cuts. Two trusted sources gave me some relatively inexpensive leads:
Option 1) a table saw costing in the $150 range.
Option 2) a router or a laminate trimmer. Roughly $100.
Option 3) a handheld circular saw. (already own.)

I watched a video about making dado cuts with a circular saw. I tried to imagine how many passes I would have to make to get one cut. I made a diagram on paper, in order to simulate my experience. I grew weary, and that was just the simulation.

I looked online for local wood shops and found someone who offers classes. Tomorrow night in fact. I spoke to the shop and asked about dado cuts. They wouldn't be covering that in class, but he gave me some info:
First off I'd need a 800 contractor's table saw to use a dado blade, otherwise, I'd burn the motor out.
Second, If I chose to make umpteenthousand cuts with a 1/8" blade....
(See above paragraph on simulation.)

He suggested I get a Porter Cable 690 router with a 3/4" wide straight cut bit. The whole contraption would be under $200, which would pay for itself within a reasonable short period of time.

But wait there's more.. I asked if one of the employee at the wood shop would bid me the cost of making stretcher bars, from scratch.

Then I remembered the old school way I used to make my own, using either finger-joined brick molding or 1" x 2" with quarter round, which got me rethinking everything, except the cross braces. I mean, shoot, if I have to assemble my own, why not just go all the way and build from scratch? Tomorrow I price out lumber.

Time to switch gears.

The holiday season is here, and while I have been less cynical then Dorothy Parker this year, I haven't been snorting pixie dust either. This time next week I will be in Nashville, and Fang will be in dog jail while I am gone. It is time to dive into the splendor of the season.

I worked on the second flower painting today and began washes on a third painting. After that I decided to work inside the house instead of continuing to work in the studio, and stretched three 14" x 11" canvases while watching mindless television. Every now and then, I just need to be surrounded by the warmth of a living room while I'm working. Tonight was one of those nights.

A vat of molasses I tell you.

I'll spare the details, but while working on a grant app which requires detail financial stuff, I had to re-enter and re-reconcile 4 months and 4 accounts worth of statements. And I know they had previously been entered and reconciled because after a statement is reconciled, I make an "R" on the statement, and not just any "R." No, I make an "R" that looks the the "S" on Superman's cape.

So I'm going just a little nuts from being on the computer for all sorts of things. My office is in the corner of my studio, so I've been able to sneak away a bit and work on a painting, but for all practical purposes, I'm in office mode for a while or at least until the winds of fate shift.

Strictly professional post. None of that messy personal stuff. I am a robot today.

I'm in a couple of exhibitions this May. Incognito benefits the Santa Monica Museum of Art and the other is the Venice Art Walk and Silent Auction which benefits the Venice Family Clinic.

Incognito at SMMOA Saturday May 2.
details: http://www.smmoa.org/index.php/exhibitions/details/224

Venice Artwalk and Silent Auction
Saturday May 16 Free preview.
Sunday May 17th Silent Auction.
details: http://www.venicefamilyclinic.org/index.php?view=thirty_vawa_art_walk

****
I am still prepping linen for the new canvases. I finished a few and started working on one of them. I'll never be a perfectionist in the studio, not when it comes to spills and drips. The gorgeous clean edges of linen have already been marked by errant gesso and oil-stained washes dripping down the sides. This is who I am. There's no hiding it and it's not worth the self-induced agony of worrying that someone else might not like the lived-in look of my edges.

The day in pictures

Technically, I should have been working on a mission statement for some entrepreneurial ideas I have, but instead I continued to de-canvas the store-boughts and re-stretch them with linen.

Fang works hard at Quality Check.


This is my suburban boombox.

It worked quite nicely. I think I'm onto something.

Ball + Receptacle= Repeat.

Fang with Boa Constrictor Mouth.

One day I will bore of taking pictures of Fang sleeping, but not yet. He's about 12 years old.

Ta-da. Linen. hand-stretched and primed. I still have about 15 more to do. They are beautiful. I'm already angsting over the edges- to tape or not to tape? No, I won't tape... I don't think.

Rough around the edges

I probably should not post when I am in fear. I keep forgetting that the blog is available for anyone with a search engine.

***
But more about me... I had a second studio visit yesterday, showing the small paintings. It went well and I got some good criticism that I'm mulling over: Lose the cheap canvases. (Note: the carton of 30 I ordered, just arrived the other day.)

Prior to circa 2005, I would have scoffed at store-bought canvases, even the "professional or museum profile." In fact, I've always found the museum profile rather ridiculous, as if we need those extra 3 inches raised off the wall to make it a "serious" painting. Okay, you see where this is going; I started embracing the slacker aesthetic of cheap, store-bought canvases and their candyass 3/4" profile. So after paying my dues by building my own, coupled with the apparent difficulty I have with precision, perfection and power tools, I stepped over to the dark side. And from a practical standpoint, it also has to do with economics and my need to keep painting. (See various posts where I speak of not painting for 7-ish years in the 90's.)

So here I am mulling over materials and craftsmanship, again. Crazy how this happens. I swing to a point where I'm trying (it's a fine line here, so bear with me) to make the crappiest paintings on earth using the most godawful colors I can not think of, and I wind up making these tiny paintings that I'm packing with attention and detail, AND now I need to entertain the idea of using quality materials and stretching my own canvas or....linen. LINEN. I love linen. Linen is linen. What painter doesn't love linen? But have you ever tried to disrespect a linen surface? It's hard. Tough Love.

I unpacked the box of store-boughts, ordered some linen on sale, am tearing off the canvas and getting ready to stretch my own.

NO FEAR.

Perhaps I will discover more time in 2009.

Twoth (2009)

I am SO behind on things, but I'm also trying to have balance, which is why I cut out of the studio after accomplishing a task. I met a buyer while I was in Nashville and we got in a nice little chat about recycled products and the green economy. I was eyeballing the English Retread purses when she approached me, and after cooing over those bags, I told her about my Used Rubber bag which still looks brand new after 10 years. One thing led to another and as we were exchanging numbers I pulled out one of my homemade memo pads, which immediately caught her eye (she's a buyer) and led us into another discussion which ended with her recommending a site for me to check out, called supermarkethq.com. Like Etsy, but curated. Hopefully I'll get in. It's very design-oriented and I am anti-design-oriented, but who knows, maybe my anti-design will be considered design this year. This would be for my multiples and odds and ends stuff. I put that package together today. I make it sound like a huge deal- scanning the work, taking the pics, writing the bio, etc; It's not, but for some reason, I always have a Eureka! moment in the middle of doing something, which leads to either to an improvement or an offshoot idea, which I am compelled to implement on the spot. The printer also ran out of ink. I finally finished up that task and the offshoot brainstorming ideas that came with it, and called it a day. I am well aware I over-used and possibly mis-used 'which' in the above paragraph. My apologies to the grammar cops.

I'm behind on posting the new old stock of smaller works over at the smaller works site and I still have 4 paintings living in the studio without titles, not to mention that I've got to get rolling on those works again. I don't diversify easily.

So, I cut out of the studio after accomplishing one task, in order to make Matt a Red Velvet birthday cake. I'm still 5 days late. To be fair, his birthday was on Xmas day and I was in Nashville. It's my first RV cake and although I would rather have made it vegan, it's not my birthday, so I'm following my friend, Martha's recipe, and going full-on dairy.

I've left out the part about trying to troubleshoot a brand new answering machine from 2000 miles away.

I am thankful even though I made some mistakes along the way

Brand Library Submissions are due. The Brooklyn Museum is also looking at submissions. I'm still at the computer. That's the I-might-as-well-focus-on-shows-since-I've-never-concerned-myself-with-sales attitude that I've had all of my adult life.

Umpteen years ago, I quietly accepted the equation, day job=money, and I never tried to "sell" my art. Not only that, I've even (silently) taken offense when people from the civilian world who know nothing about the machinations of the ART world suggest I participate in art fairs, not Art Basel art fairs but like, you know, artisan fairs. This was so snobby of me. I almost did one once. Back in 1984, I was invited out of the blue by a woman who was in charge of the Art in the Parks thing in Nashville. It may have even been the first one. I had like a week's notice. I may or may not have hung unstretched canvases from trees. I have a brief visual, but am not sure whether I followed through. I was fresh out of college and unlike the smartypants graduate of today, I had no career navigational skills. I also have a poor memory of the 80's. Briefly remember having some appointments to show work with some galleries and then grad school wiped out any modicum of desire I had to make commodifiable work. Honestly, my grad program was such an ivory tower. It falls on and off my resentment list. But I digress.

Natch, I think my work is quite handsome, but I'll admit it looks best in a white cube where it's not competing with texture and patterns and furniture and people. Thus my dilemma. Even before I was groomed in the discourse of conceptual gymnastics, I made art for myself and have assumed that people like me, only wealthier and with climate controlled spaces would collect my work. It happens, but not enough. And what's more, I'm tired of being stuck between pretending like it doesn't matter on one side and on the other, the admission that my works sells at a snail's pace at relatively modest prices. I mean, when my plumber tells me he wants to be an artist because he has an artist client whose works sells for 100,000 a pop, I want to scream.

My goals are simple: I am happiest in the studio. I just want to keep making work, make enough money to make more work, support myself through the work, have enough left over to save for a future and spread the wealth.

I've decided the whole day job=money thing needs some retooling. So this week, I am rethinking my approach. Hard. Since I'm not independently wealthy, a tenure-track professor, or a kept woman I am coming up with my own plan. A while back, I almost got my Smaller Works site up and running, but bailed and did not follow through with marketing or even word of mouth advertising. Not out of laziness, but because I wanted to believe that some gallery sales might happen as the result of a couple of fine shows and good press. One check arrived. Actually two, counting a stipend for doing an artist talk. And in looking at the domino effect of gallery closings, this doesn't seem to be the time to find additional representation, though optimistically, that's still on the to-do list.

So now I am shameless. I have been inspired by others who are selling works on websites. I am going to get off my highfalutin horse and get the Smaller Work site up and running. The work will be affordable, and I'm looking at it as an opportunity to dig deeper into my bag of tricks. There will possibly be some slightly representational and P&D work, and I know it sounds crazy, but I'm also thinking FLOWERS. Specifically, I see designs from my mom's garden club fitting in here somewhere. I'm excited. It's kind of like my version of Michael Graves for Target mixed with the FAP, but you know, non-functional and probably still a little esoteric.

Whee. Off to get that paypal button.

Measure Twice Cut Once.

I am a hopelessly visual person. I have to draw little squares on a piece of paper in order to calculate square footage. Even with a calculator, I still have to draw the damn boxes and write numbers above them and to the side in order to trust the numbers.

So now, I wait for clarity. More accurately, I wait until I can wrap my head around some numbers before I call in my cuts to the paper store-again. It's slightly more complex as I'm trying to calculate the excess needed for making deckle edges for a square. Many of them.
I could measure a one inch border 3 times and still be off by a 16th of an inch each time, yet if I eyeball it, I'm good to go each time.

I am Molasses

Dharma Pneumatic Carrier Station

I'm not sure where the time goes, but it's 6:13 pm and I am going to shift my focus to the interior dwelling.

Brief timeline of my day as best as I can recall:

• 6:05 a.m. Alarm rings, hit snooze.
• 6:15 a.m. Alarm rings, hit snooze.
• 6: 25 a.m. Alarm rings, hit snooze.
• 6:26 a.m. Clock radio, classical music. Slowly consider waking up and letting Fang out.
• 7 a.m. Coffee. Set timer for 1 hour. Quiet time. I do nothing but meditate with my coffee. Sometimes I write.
• 8 a.m. Timer goes off. I get dressed.
• 8-11 a.m. Phone call. Track down box store in Marina Del Ray. Quick visit to a friend's studio to pick up more cardboard, stayed to chat a few. Grocery store. Unloaded car.
• 11-12 p.m. Breakfast. Phone call.
• 12-3 p.m. Made big mess with cardboard boxes, bubble wrap, strapping tape and shrink wrap in studio. And Styrofoam. Let's not forget the Styrofoam. I can't. It's everywhere.
• 1-2 p.m. It only took me an hour and some change to wrap and pack the paintings once I had the proper materials.
• 2:09 pm Coffee break. Returned neighbor's house key and took Fang for a walk.
• Lost track of time after that.Maybe I packed the paintings before coffee. I can't remember, but I prepared packing list and cleaned up mess from studio. I lose focus easily when I have petty tasks to do. I tend to make frequent trips to the kitchen to snack on peanuts and consider another espresso. The other day Matt informed me coffee was a luxury item. Trader Joe's has French Roast, $8.99 for 24 oz. I stocked up. I probably killed 15 minutes wandering/pacing back and forth from studio to kitchen. Bad habit.

Still need to refurbish some things before burning a disk. I will finish this tonight before LOST comes on. I thought last week's episode was lame. Jack has a an appendectomy, shacks up with Kate in the future. Starts popping pills and drinking too much. Kate has a secret. Whoopee. Of course, that's still considerably more interesting than the day I just described. I'd like to see someone on the island try to pack artwork for shipping.

Coffee Break

My favorite part of having a show HAS to be the wrapping and packing and transporting of artwork. I am kidding. That's why I am inside on coffee break while outside there sits a Goliath roll of kraft paper, bubble wrap and tape.

It will get done. It's not that difficult. The Goliath roll of kraft paper is cumbersome, but economically it was more convenient and way cheaper than picking up a few yards of it at Utrecht or the drugstore. Should I ever desire to restrict my materials to just kraft paper, I am set for at least a couple of lifetimes. No matter what happens, I can take comfort in knowing I will always have kraft paper.