"Old-Fashioned"

Lake Farmpark is a demonstration farm celebrating Ohio's farming heritage. It is part of the Lake Metroparks park system in Lake County where I was Art Director. Most things at Lake Farmpark are "old-fashioned".

This piece was created to launch the facility to the public and potential sponsors. It is a bi-fold folder with inside flaps which hold a brochure, business card, and informational step downs.

The art for this was old-fashioned too. Painstaking rendering with Prismacolor pencils was insane. One of the joys of being Art Director is that I could assign myself a task like this. One of the miseries is that meant I did a lot of this on my own time after hours because I wanted to do it, and didn't feel it was fair to do it on the parks' time when quicker methods would've worked.

A lot goes into a project like this, and that doesn't even count in the major display I designed for the Cleveland Home and Flower Show to launch the campaign. (Though I am happy to say we won awards!) I researched what the facility would be because it didn't exist yet. I wrote copy and got it approved by staff, committees, and the board.

I had already designed the Lake Metroparks' logo, and created a separate, but complementary logo for the Farmpark -- which of course meant going back through the layers of staff, committees, and board. Bidding out the printing and hovering over the press checks was both fun and anxious for me. I cursed my own district-wide policy of printing only on recycled paper. The stock absorbed the ink, and many of my lovely Prismacolor details were lost.

Sometimes I look at projects like this and think they're wonderful because I know how much I put into them, but reality is that other people often don't understand or care. This piece was successful, and that's all they really care about. Lake Farmpark is known in the region, and I had something to do with that success. I went there for a farmers' market last week, and the drive is lined with two rows of banners of the logo, my logo. I felt a little surge of happiness.

The Prismacolors are getting dusty. I just don't love them any more!

"Acrobat"

When I went to college, there were 2 teachers charged with teaching anatomy to freshmen, and they had very different schools of thought about it. One teacher had a textbook approach to making students memorize body parts. I'm glad I had Mr. Larrabee instead. We drew from models, then located the bones and muscles in our drawings. I found this extremely helpful because prior to this I had only thought about the outside skin of the people I drew. This technique did a lot to flatten my ego about how well I thought I could draw at that time, but it also made me a much better artist.

Anatomy class gave me heart palpitations at first. I stopped in my tracks and did the "uh, uh, uh" the first time I saw a naked woman smoking outside of class. My suburban/rural upbringing must've been obvious because she rather casually put on her robe while I tried to scrape my jaw off the ground. She didn't bother to tie it though. My 17-year-old self will never forget her sagging breasts, stretch marks, and C-section scar. At that age I didn't really understand gravity, and I'm pretty sure the stretch marks and scar promoted my feelings about proper use of contraceptives. Later on, I laughed when I saw new crops of freshmen staggering in shock of their first naked models. I wonder if teachers ever get tired of seeing freshmen at their first anatomy class?

I think a lot of people never get to live that memorable moment or learn basic anatomy. Here are some basic rules to live by, and I think they apply no matter what style an artist is working in...

1. Arms and legs have straight bones inside of them. Okay, if you really want to get into it, there's 2 major bones in the forearm, and 2 in the calf, but let's stick with the basic principle. If you're trying to draw something that looks vaguely human, you should be able to draw straight lines from shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, hip to knee, and knee to ankle. In other words, avoid breaking bones in your subjects.

2. We've gotten used to distortions in photos, but viewers are less forgiving when they look at art. If a leg looks small in a reference photo, does it look like a deformity in your drawing? If you're going to make a hand huge, do it on purpose because it's aimed at the viewer. In general, body parts should look like they belong on the same body.

3. Avoid cutting off hands, feet, arms, and legs with the edge of the picture. Doing so makes your subject look like they've had an amputation. It makes people uncomfortable, even if that discomfort is on a subliminal level. Especially avoid blunt crops at joints, and show both arms and/or legs when it makes sense to show them. Otherwise the absence of a limb can also look like an amputation.

4. Muscles are convex, meaning they bulge out. They never curve in. Think of a bicep. Every muscle acts the same way, just on a lesser scale. And remember, the muscles attach to the bones inside. Imagine beginning and ending points for those muscles.

5. Practice makes perfect. Find people and pictures to study. Get an anatomy book for artists, but avoid fashion photography. That has been highly distorted in PhotoShop.

Rules were made to be broken, but if you break the rules, know what you're breaking and why. 5 rules seemed like enough for this posting, but I'd be happy to hear any other suggestions people have.

And how this ties to "acrobat"? Because basic anatomy is essential to trapeze artists, sports figures, and dodging whatever is coming your way. Both pictures are from college days. The painting is oil on canvas.

"Proverb"

The Byrds sang "Turn, Turn, Turn" straight out of the Bible, except for the last line. The music is by Pete Seeger. The Byrds' version was released when I was a very little child, the Viet Nam war was going on, and I couldn't understand why my dad railed against hippies for saying "make love, not war".

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven.

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late

I argued with my Sunday school teacher Mrs. Blazy about this song. I didn't want to accept that God sanctioned war or hate, especially when the horrors of Viet Nam were on TV every night. I'm sure I was responsible for some of Mrs. Blazy's gray hair for this and other religious differences.

I have an ongoing war against the maple trees that try to reforest my yard. I pulled these in spring, and thought their deaths ought to count for something, so I scanned them and did a lot of PhotoShop because I was studying new techniques. The original scan is below just to show that I actually did some work to get it to look like this.

I sang the song while yanking the baby maples. I can't help myself. It's a good song, and I'm not going to live in a maple forest with squirrels throwing things at my head and eating my fruit before it's ripe. Okay, there's nothing I can do about the squirrels short of shooting them, and I'm not ready to take that step... yet.

Everything changes. David Crosby isn't the fresh-faced boy he was in the '60s. The maple leaves will be changing colors soon, then falling, then snow and bare branches before I have a new crop of maple seedlings to pull out. There are a lot of proverbs about change, but this song speaks to me most because I find the truths in it so uncomfortable to deal with.

"Dessert"

I had a job making pretty boxes for chocolates and bakery products. This box was made for Mrs. Fields as part of a holiday series. I'm happy to say this series was so successful, I created new art for it every year.

This art started out as pieces of watercolor that I scanned and morphed in PhotoShop. I keep the elements on different layers because there are always changes. The background door changed from red to green to weathered white before the customer was satisfied.

All of the elements in this piece were created from very little actual painting. For instance, the berries were created from just two bunches. Copy/paste, copy/paste... except the Creative Director for Mrs. Fields is very observant, and had me alter the highlights on every berry so it showed the light source coming from one direction. Good call on his part. Silent groaning on mine. That's a lot of berries!

Even something like the bow was created in multiple layers. I painted a solid bow, tried out different colors, put a brocade pattern over it, and played with the shadows and highlights to match everything else. Even the tag attached to the bow took seven layers: background colors, star, text, grommet, and string.




It has to be this way in a corporate world. I loved working with MF's CD because he has a good eye, makes useful comments, and appreciates good work -- but he is only one cog in the corporate world, though a very important cog in that wheel. My art went to committees of people I never spoke with, and often returned with comments like "Put teddy bears in it" because somebody's wife likes teddy bears. Having a great CD can keep the teddy bears out of things because the CD can defend your work when you can't.

All of this is just the domestic side of business. I also created schematic drawings and printing directions for Chinese manufacturers, often for someone who doesn't speak English. I don't plan on learning Chinese, so we often had to rely on computer translations, which can be like talking through mud. Numbers and drawings they understand.

Samples of the boxes would come from China, product samples came from the customer to see if they fit properly, and I fended off my coworkers' appetites long enough to measure things. I loved getting samples. I really like Mrs. Fields' cookies, but I also got the most decadent chocolates from some of my customers... Uh, excuse me... I started having chocolate flashbacks.

Once all of the above was settled, I created final art for the printer. I originally started out just doing layouts, but when the okay came through for a project, they wanted it out the door immediately. It became easier to work on elements of the final art through the approval process, and adapting it to the final die lines.

When I started this blog, I had the best intentions of trying to say useful things to other artists. I hope this gives some insight into what it's like to make packaging art. I'm open to other ideas of what you'd like to see in the future too. I love getting feedback!

"Immovable"

The first thing I thought with this word was rocks, or maybe the old refrigerator in my basement -- heavy, difficult things I don't really want. Then I started thinking about an old boyfriend who was stubborn in his points of view, which is why we aren't together any more. I was stubborn too, but I'm pretty sure I was also right. We could pick up the same fight years later and still remain immovable in our beliefs. What a shame really.

Nothing is actually immovable. Our molecules are constantly jiggling, the planet orbits around the sun, and the sun is part of the vastly moving universe. I can stand with my feet firmly planted and my arms crossed while the planet forces me through space, and time creates change around me. Even my beliefs and attitudes change, no matter how much I want to hang onto principles or things already gone by.

I got this lesson every year when I was growing up. Boulders in the river looked immovable, but the spring floods came and shoved them downstream a little every year, and then a little more, and then more, until I noticed a huge granite boulder I used to sit on behind the Lutsch's house is now behind the Hollar's. That's a long ways, and it made me feel old and timeless at once.

I'm very much like the boulder. I want to draw with a pencil and paint with a brush, but life is like the flood that forces me to adapt and use technology. After some complaining, I've figured out I can like computers too. Life changes, people change.

This is a big painting for me, 30" x 20" in acrylics. I hate to apologize for the quality of the image, but I had it framed before getting it properly reproduced. Taking this one apart would be a nightmare, so I haven't done it. It's hanging in the living room, and I'm leaving it there. At least I'm leaving it there as long as life doesn't make me reassess it again, and that day will come. None of our beliefs are as sacred as we think they are. This painting will eventually be sent to the attic or sold or given away because something always happens. The trick is to quit fighting the floods.

"Atmosphere"

Home repair is wrecking my delicate ecosystem. The plumbing disaster last month inspired me to get Adam the Plumber to replace the drain pipe from the kitchen sink. That wasn't part of my flood, but now I have plumbing paranoia. He also took out the dishwasher because I never use it, and if you don't use a dishwasher, it goes bad. They waste a lot of water and energy anyway.

Adam told me to put Drain-o down the pipe to clear out any residual gunk in the connecting pipes. I read the directions and obediently flushed with hot water. I forgot about the furnace guy turning up the water heater to the temperature of the sun. Factoids: faucets these days have plastic inside. Plastic melts at the temperature of the sun. The cheapest new faucet is $80. AAAAAaaaaaagggghh!!!!

Adam is a sweet guy, but not a little one. The opening for my corner sink is 8" wide. He said he'd have to find someone very skinny to access the faucet pipes. I don't have money for 2 plumbers, so I decided to fix it myself. Since the dishwasher is out, I dismantled the cupboard for better access. That worked great for all but one of the connections which was completely rusted together. Late into the night I attacked the faucet with a hack saw. You know, if they put chintzy plastic parts in the faucet, why is the rest solid brass? That's about as easy to saw apart as taking a leg off the Eiffel Tower. After much sweat and swearing, it's off and the $80 replacement is on. It's shiny and pretty and my greatest accomplishment to date.

There's a creepy atmosphere of absolute silence around it. I didn't realize how accustomed I'd gotten to the perpetual drip of the old faucet, and that gets back to the destruction of my delicate ecosystem. Bugs went there for the water, spiders spun webs to catch the bugs. I leave a light on over the sink in the evenings which attracts other bugs, so the carnivorous ecosystem was pretty much continuous -- but no more. The eerie silence of the non-dripping faucet must've scared the spiders away too. Nothing lives there any more. No mold, no moths, no spiders. I'm just not sure I can adjust to this.

The linoleum got replaced in the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement this week. It's a story in itself to explain why I had the most expensive company do it instead of begging favors from my almost-brother-in-law, but it was actually cheaper for me because the insurance company is insane. I kind of dread explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, but he really needs to learn to schmooz some claims adjusters.

Guilt aside, the new floor looks nice, but it made the kitchen cabinets look awful, especially the hole in the cupboards where the dishwasher had been. I spent 2 days trying to make them look better with liberal doses of wood putty, paint, and scouring powder.

Are you tired yet from reading about all of this? My knees are screaming at me for crawling around on the floor while doing plumbing contortions, and there's still a lot of stuff that needs put away. That doesn't even count in the fact that the wood floors need refinished, and that means everything in the house has to be shifted from room to room to clear off the floor.

... examining my biceps... I am woman, hear me roar!!!

Oh yeah, I used to do work for a feng shui instructor, so I know the kitchen is the love center of my house according to that tradition. Just something I've been thinking about while I wonder about my absent spiders.

The spider tin was created for Firefly Fandango. It may be a stretch for "atmosphere", but I figured it was time for an update about my disaster relief. I like the word for the week, so may attempt a second post if I can stop trying to get the house in order -- but then, the house is my atmosphere.

Stargazing

There are people who might be surprised that I'm patriotic. I get ticked at my politicians on a regular basis, and have been a pacifist since I watched TV as a child and saw other children running from explosions in Viet Nam. There simply has to be better ways of solving the world's problems than blowing people and places up.

Don't get me wrong -- I believe in our right to self-defense, but wars with Iraq and Afghanistan make less sense than blowing up Saudi Arabia if we're actually retaliating for 9/11. But like I said, I'm a pacifist. I don't want to blow up anybody, and I don't want our soldiers blown up either. It hurts me to see young people without arms, legs, or faces because of the stupid decisions made by people in power for oil interests. Rich people get richer, and everybody involved suffers. The rest of us are supposed to buy cars and stuff to help the economy and avoid looking at that man controlling things behind the curtain.

On the other hand, my country right or wrong -- right? America isn't just the flawed people in Washington or greedy corporations or fruit loops in Waco, Texas or whatever other crackpots you might want to point to that live here. America is an ideal of freedoms. Believe in the religion of your choice, or don't believe in one at all. Every child is given a basic education and libraries are free. Anyone can go to college and study the career of their choice and abilities. In theory anyway, none of us is limited by our caste in life. The streets may not be paved in gold, but we do provide opportunities. It isn't all given to you, but you have the guaranteed right to work towards your own happiness. We have the right to say what we want and to create pictures of anything we want, even if it criticizes the government itself.

My sense of patriotism runs deep. My ancestors have fought in America's wars since the first war against the British, and I even had relatives who signed the Declaration of Independence. My relatives fought on both sides of the Civil War, in both world wars, Korea, the Gulf, etc. I feel obligated to support the people who are willing to die for our freedoms and the greater good, but that doesn't mean I have to support the politicians that send them in the line of fire in the first place. And as an American woman, I do have the right to vote. I think there are a lot of Americans who share my views, but we are the quiet majority who seldom get heard in the news.

My flag is painted in acrylics. There are 13 smaller stars representing the original colonies with a large star symbolizing the unity between the states. Or maybe the big star is for Ohio, because obviously, that's the best state. Anyone who says different is clearly deluded and/or prejudiced, or looking for a fight. Which kind of gets to the point of patriotism. It's love of home, wherever your home is. I'm just lucky that I get to call America and Ohio home.