Writing as an art form

This post is not for writers. Writers understand what I’m talking about. This is for Average Joe who thinks writing a book is easy. Maybe he’ll never read this post, but I have to write it anyway. For the sake of my own sanity.

Some background: I’m not a professional writer, nor am I a professional editor. However, I do both. On a daily basis. I call myself a writer and I call myself an editor, but nine times out of ten, I don’t get paid for it. I think I’m pretty good at my job, but – as with anything – I could be better. Even in the past year I have far exceeded even my own expectations and write news stories and columns for a website, as well as edit for the same site. I even have a copyediting gig of my own that pays me, although work tends to be sporadic.

Still. If you put me up against Average Joe, I know what I’m talking about. When I freelance as an editor, I come across all sorts of writing. Money in my pocket is, well…money in my pocket, so I take what I can get. This means that “all sorts of writing” mostly translates to “bad writing.”

People who don’t know how to properly use semi-colons.

People who don’t know how to form dialogue.

People who don’t know what a comma is or think it should be placed between every other word.

These things all annoy the crap out of me. But what’s worse is the person who thinks that writing is easy. They think you just pick out some words and throw them on a page. Tell a story, slap a title at the top, and ship it off to agents and editors like it’s the next Harry Potter.

Um, no.

That’s why I said that this post is not for writers. You guys understand this. You know that literal blood, literal sweat, and literal tears go into writing a book. The time it takes to complete one when you’re first starting out is astronomical. I claim my writing “career” began in the fourth grade, but the only novel I ever finished was started in 2008. That was four years ago. It’s undergone about three revisions over the last few years and it’s still not done. And it won’t be for a while.

There are some powerhouses out there like Rick Riordan who write two books a year. That’s pretty fast, but still. Imagine working on only TWO projects in one year. You find an idea, your write it down, you tweak it, send it off, and move onto something new. That’s a heck of a turnaround time for what we do, but that’s still only two projects in a whole entire year.

And then people come up to me and say, “Yeah, I wrote a book. I’m just going to have someone edit it and then I’ll publish it.” And they self-publish and sell three copies and they have no idea why. It’s because copyediting isn’t enough. Correct punctuation and grammar isn’t enough. You need to have three-dimensional characters. You need an enticing story. A convincing villain.

You need to be an artist.

The page is our canvas. Words are our paint. The image that unfolds before us holds just as much beauty and emotion as Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus or as much horror and tragedy as Artemisia Gentileschi’s Judith Slaying Holofernes.

Anyone can come up with a cardstock character. But can you make them flawed, yet relatable? Can you give them strength without turning them into a robot? Can you give them a purpose to their actions? Can you make us love them?

Anyone can create a villain. But can you make them so terrifying we have trouble sleeping at night? Can you make them believable and realistic? Can you make them evil, yet human?

Not everyone can. It’s something all writers have trouble doing, even NYTBS authors. But hey, we can’t all be Michelangelo from the get-go, right?

And you know what? That’s fine. It’s better than fine, actually. There was already someone named Michelangelo that went down in the history books. There’s no point in trying to follow the same exact path. That makes you a tracer, not a painter.

So, for Average Joe I say this:

Writing is an art form. It’s hard. And no, not everyone can do it. Can you write a book? Yeah, probably. And hey, good on you for getting 60,000 words down on paper. A lot of people can’t even do that. But can you write a good book? That’s up to you. Just because the book is finished and you made a shiny cover for it in Photoshop doesn’t mean that you understand this concept of writing as art. You may be a writer, but you’re not an artist.

What do you think? Am I totally off my rocker, or is this like music to your ears? I’m sure most of you have come across someone who thinks sitting in front of your computer all day and typing is just about the easiest thing in the world. What kind of response did that get from you?

My Favorite American Artist: Thomas Cole

Ever since I was younger, I’ve been a fan of Greek and Roman art, as well as the High Renaissance. American art just never captured my attention. It always felt as though it followed in the footsteps of the Italians or the French, but never did as good of a job.

That is, until I met Thomas Cole. Or, rather, until I met his paintings.

He was born at the turn of the 19^th century and, ironically, he was born in England. He moved here with his family when he was 17. After little success with portraits, he moved on to landscapes and truly found his niche.

It was by accident that I discovered him, really. It was one of those last minute decisions that you make on a whim. Oh, I have to turn my topic in tomorrow for this 10 page paper that isn’t due for another three months? *flips pages in book* I like…THAT ONE!

Believe it or not, this approach has served me well over the years. I either have very good taste, or I’m just easily fascinated by the people I happen to choose. I’m going to go with the former.

The thing I like best about Cole isn’t the rolling country scenes that he known for, although that’s certainly part of it. My favorite thing is the grand scale of some of his paintings. It’s as if you’re viewing the countryside through a wide angle, panoramic lens. He seems to squeeze so many minute details into one piece of work. You can look at one of his paintings for hours on end and still notice new bits of brilliance that escaped you before.

After choosing Cole as the artist I would focus on, I had to choose a painting. Unable to stick to just one, I chose a series called The Course of Empire. (Which, in a way, was cheating, because it has a very Greco-Roman feel to it.) It’s made up of five painting that – you guessed it – depict the different stages than an empire goes through during the course of its lifetime. I think they need little explanation, so please see the paintings below.

The Savage State

The Arcadian or Pastoral State

The Consummation of Empire

Destruction

Desolation

What did you think of the series? Aren’t they inspiring!? I’d love write something based off of the scenes in these works of art.

Do you have any favorite American artists? Is there a particular style or genre of writing that you avoided for a long time because you never liked it, but have finally found something worth investing in?

A Non-Artist’s Guide to a Masterpiece

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not an artist. (This, of course, is in regards to the mainstream definition of the word. I think I am – and each of you are – an artist of words, but I’m not here to talk about that today.) My grandmother liked to say that she couldn’t draw a straight line if she had three rulers. I tend to agree with that sentiment. Even my stick figures never quite look right.

This is all pretty amusing once you realize that I have a B.A. in art history. But, thankfully, you don’t have to be an artist to have an appreciation of art. It’s probably best that I’m not – it allows me to bask in the talents of others, wondering how anyone can create such a realistic/haunting/beautiful/enter-adjective-here painting/sculpture/drawing.

I got through three and a half years of college perfectly content with my studies. Then, in my last semester, I was told some horrifying news. I had to take an art class. Uh oh. While I’m a fairly creative person in general, I’ve never really applied these skills to producing a physical object. Least of all one that would be graded.

Crap.

Now, this art class was a bit different than your average course. I mean, I took 2D and 3D art in high school, where I did fine but didn’t excel (which didn’t bother me at all). This class, however, was called Aesthetics and it was all about the theories behind how art is created. Sometimes it was taught by my art history teacher, who focused on how it applied to our field. Sometimes it was taught by the art education professor, who focused on – you guessed it – how it applied to students who wanted to be teachers. And guess which one I got as a professor that semester?

Double crap.

You see, I never wanted to be a teacher. I’d probably be good at it. I have a fair amount of patience and I enjoy teaching other people. I’m good at breaking down complex problems, simplifying them, and then instructing others step-by-step how to understand them. Plenty of my high school teachers suggested I look into an education field, but I knew it wasn’t for me. It just wasn’t anything I wanted to do.

So this class was a little…pointless. Not only did I not particularly like this teacher (she was very nice – just a little too flaky for my analytical brain), but the entire curriculum literally had nothing at all to do with my major. So, yeah. It was a lot pointless. Unfortunately, this was a required class and was exactly the absolute last class I needed in order to graduate.

Oh, and did I mention that I had a Spanish class (required for my minor) that was in the same time slot that absolutely couldn’t be moved? That means that I had to take my aesthetics class online – where I would probably learn even less and definitely not get a chance to partake in discussions or have the benefit of asking questions during class.

(Can I insert a ‘triple crap’ here?)

Luckily, my professor really liked me. The class was super easy and I ended up getting an excellent grade, despite the fact that I never stepped foot in the class room. …Even if I did learn nothing from it. (Gotta love those standardized, cardboard cut-out requisites, right?)

But that’s a half lie. I did learn one thing: I can make art.

Yeah. Me! Who knew? I certainly didn’t.

The assignment was simple enough. We each got a shoe (my BFF brought one back for me, so half of my glory should probably go to her) that we had to turn into a piece of art. I don’t even remember what the unit was about. It might have been recycled material used for artwork. The point is we had a shoe. That we had to turn into a piece of art. A good piece of art, that is.

I mentioned it was going to be graded, right?

Now, I was lucky because I didn’t actually have to go to class. Still, I felt the pressure. Only three of the students in that class were art history majors. The rest were art ed majors. That means that they’re good at this sort of thing. After all, they wanted to do it for a living.

But you know how sometimes everything seems hopeless? You’re so overwhelmed because you just have too much going on. You have to prioritize your work. The more important stuff gets tossed on top of the heap and the less important things get the least of your attention. I learned to prioritize really well in college. I also learned that I didn’t have time to make every project my best project. I learned to be okay with that.

And sometimes – if you’re really lucky – your brain realizes how desperate and stressed you are, and it helps you out. It just gives you everything you need and you know that it’s going to work out perfectly.

This was one of those times.

I stared at the shoe for about five minutes – maybe less. And it hit me. The epiphany of my life. (I know, I know. You’re thinking, after 800+ words this had better be good. Oh, trust me. It is.)

Sushi.

No, no. Shoe-shi.

I was going to turn my shoe into a sushi platter. And a gorgeous platter it was going to be.

The shoe was completely white. Low heel. There was a single strap across the top that was a little thick and fairly wide. A basic, simple shoe. It would be perfect.

I cut the strap off and connected the ends so it looked like a doughnut. I colored this black with permanent marker. I stuffed the middle with cardboard, then took uncooked rice and mixed it with glue. I put the rice in both ends of the doughnut shape and then waited for it to harden.

The hard part was over. The base of the shoe was the platter. I painted – in red – Chinese symbols for “food.” Then I took two pencils, shaved them, and dipped them in white paint. I used marker again to make the ends black. These were the chopsticks. Then I wrote on a strip of paper the fortune (because what would sushi be without a fortune?). I connected the three pieces – the sushi, the chopsticks, and the fortune – to the base of the shoe and it was done.

Shoe-shi.

Now, I have a secret talent that few know I possess. This talent was bred from my natural way with words. It’s called: b.s.-ing. And I’m really, really good at it.

Of course I had to write a paper for this project, so that super secret talent came in handy. I came up with some pretty fabulous theories about what the shoe-shi platter represented. I wrote about how profound it was. Where it fit amongst the stars in the cosmos. Why it was important and what it told us about human nature.

Hey, I’m not proud to admit that I gave it less than my all, but I still earned that A+ and I wasn’t about to give it back.

(As a side note, my BFF has repeatedly told me she hates this super secret talent of mine. I can’t blame her, but, man, am I glad I have it.)

If you’ve made it this far along in my story, I applaud you. Thanks for sticking around. And, as a reward, here are a couple shots of my first real (and best ever) art project. I still have it. It’s sits on my dresser in my bedroom. Every once in a while I look up at it and smile, surprised that a non-artist like me was lucky enough to find the masterpiece inside her on her first try.

Yeah, that might be a humble brag. Just a little bit.

I consider this the back of the piece, though it gives a nice overview.

Here’s the shoe-shi platter in all its glory. Believe it or not, the hardest part was keeping those stupid chopsticks attached to the base.

I’m so proud of that rice. That was going to make or break the whole piece, so I’m glad it worked out! (The chopsticks says “Foo Chow” by the way, which is the name of the Chinese restaurant in the town I live in!)

I wanted a funny saying, and this was the best one I found. My favorite numbers are 4 and 17. The BFF’s are 8 and 3. And my mom’s birthday is on 10/27.

Are you artsy in the traditional sense of the word? What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever made? As a writer, do you share my super secret talent for coming up with the perfect words in the absolute least amount of time?

When Words Inspire Art

A few weeks ago I talked about fan-fiction. The debate continues about whether it’s considered copyright infringement, but one thing is certain – when an author inspires another person simply through the written word, it’s a beautiful thing.

Today is Wednesday, and although this post is much later than usual, I couldn’t let the day slip by without talking about art. Sometimes words inspire others to write. Sometimes those same words inspire others to create something a bit more visual. Here are a few examples.

Gustave Doré – Charon

This image was inspired by Dante’s The Divine Comedy, specifically Inferno. The artist drew this image of the ferryman, which came right from the story: “And lo! towards us coming in a boat / An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, / Crying: ‘Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!’” Charon was charged with taking the souls of the dead into the next life.

Pablo Picasso – Don Quixote

This next one is another drawing, this time by someone that you’ve probably heard of. Picasso depicts both Don Quixote and Sancho Panza here, though maybe not in a style that’s quite as detailed as Cervantes’ words were. You can see our hero on his horse, and his sidekick on his donkey. Those classic windmills are in the background.

Louis Lejuene – Battle of Moscow, 7th September 1812

Lastly, we have this somewhat depressing painting that was inspired by the events recorded in Tolstoy’s War and Peace. This is a much more detailed painting than the last, which is appropriate given the topic. This tells the story of a Russian battle in which many, many lives were lost.

These were just three random examples. There are countless others – especially if you take into consideration all the pieces created to depict stories from Greek mythology. Or Christianity. Or countless other religions and legends. The list is as close to endless as it could possibly be.

Would you like someone to turn a scene from your story into a painting someday? If so, what might you like to see? A battle scene or a portrait? A realistic and detailed portrayal, or maybe something funnier and more stylistic?

Wandering Bard: Spain (Córdoba)

Back in May, I did a post on La Alhambra, a group of palaces built by the Moorish people in Granada, Spain back in the mid to late 1300s. My awesome blogging buddy Julie Glover left me a very excited comment – I had mentioned Córdoba, she said. Apparently, her aunt was from there and Julie would love to visit some time.

Your wish is my command!

Here’s something to gaze at while I give you a little history lesson. Córdoba is a city in southern Spain and was – at one point in time – one of the largest cities in the world in terms of its population. Having been under Islamic rule for quite a while, it was only in the mid 1200s that it came under Spanish/Christian rule.

Shortly after, new churches were built within the city. However, some mosques were actually converted into churches, such as the one that goes to this bell tower.

This is called the Great Mosque of Córdoba, and it actually has a more interesting history than that. It was first a pagan temple. Then it was turned into a Christian church. Then it was converted into a mosque, and later a new mosque was built on the same site. Following that, it became a Roman Catholic church.

Whew!

Talk about an eclectic building.

Maybe you’ve never heard of this building before – at least you think you haven’t. Chances are, if you’re into architecture or art history, you’ve seen this shot at some point in your life:

This building has what is called an arcaded hypostyle hall. That sounds complicated, but it’s not. “Arcaded” simply means arches (as you can see in the picture), and “hypostyle” just means that the roof is supported by columns (hypó meaning ‘under’ and stŷlos meaning ‘column’). The famous red and white striped arches are made of limestone and brick, except for the section you see above. They were a little short on cash, apparently, so they just painted the red parts in here to make it match.

The columns are made of jasper, onyx, marble, and granite. In the picture below, you can see that one of the artists signed his name on this one!

Our guide then took us to the Street of Flowers, which provides a classic view of the bell tower.

And that was a little slice of Córdoba for you! Hope you had a great time!

There you go, Julie! Hope you enjoyed it. Can’t wait till you get to go there for real! Did everyone else enjoy the trip? I know I did. I don’t want to go to work now.

Alternative Art: Put down the Brush and Pick up the [Insert Weird Medium Here]

If you’ve been hanging around here for a while, you might remember that I mentioned Phil Hansen a while back. He’s my favorite contemporary artist. I think the guy’s a genius. And the best part about him? He doesn’t usually bother with silly things like paint or clay. He’s a little more creative than that.

So, in honor of Phil (since I’ve already done a post about him), and because I can, here are a few videos of people creating art using not-so-common mediums.

Enjoy!

 

 

 
What did you think? Have you ever created art out of something strange?

Aquariums, Museums, Hons, Oh My!

Before I get into the meat of this post, I just want to direct your attention to Julie Glover’s blog post where she interviewed me! It was my very first interview and it was oh-so-fun answering all of those questions. Now, this isn’t your typical interview – in fact, it has pretty much nothing to do with me as a writer. Julie actually interviewed me for her Amazing Words Wednesday post because on my work blog I post a “Word of the Week” on Wednesdays (we both seem to be a fan of alliteration!). She asked me all sorts of fun questions about antiques and collectibles, so please do me a favor and check it out! And if you could pop over to my other blog and poke around, I would really appreciate it.

Okay, where was I?

Oh, yes – Baltimore, Maryland! In my last post, I talked about how I got to go see Team Starkid in concert (I promise you guys this is the last time I’ll mention them for, like, a whole week!). Well, I’m the type of person who truly enjoys planning and organizing things – and I like being as efficient as possible when I do it. One of my closest friends moved to Maryland once she graduated from college. I was so terrified that we’d never see each other, but we’ve been doing a pretty good job of keeping in touch.

She was kind enough to let us crash on her couch, and we planned out a whole weekend of Baltimore sightseeing and catching up. It was a lot of fun! Check out some of the really neat things we saw and did:

(P.S. I know these pictures are BIG, but I wanted to give you closeups of everything I encountered. Let me know if they’re TOO big, and I’ll scale them back next time.)

We started the night off right once we got back from the concert: we had ice cream cake at midnight to celebrate Deidre’s 24th birthday!

The next day we went to Inner Harbor and found the National Aquarium! It was pretty expensive, but it was on Lilly’s bucketlist, so we couldn’t pass it up.

We saw this GIANT sea turtle and all three of us fell in love. It was so beautiful!

Peek-a-boo!

We all had an obsession with turtles that day.

Then we went to see a dolphin show!

This was my favorite part! We saw all sorts of jelly fish. These were just sort of bouncing around everywhere.

Look at all those jellyfish!

This one was my favorite!

My first Hard Rock Cafe experience! (And believe it or not, I resisted the B&N store!)

Then we went to the Baltimore Museum of Arts! This is a sculpture of Medusa’s head – the hand is Perseus’!

One of my favorite painters, Seurat.

Here’s a Picasso!

I get excited whenever I see a Jackson Pollock because I can usually recognize his work.

This is a Georgia O’Keeffe

This Greek-style pizza was criminally expensive, but it was SO GOOD.

Then we went to the Honfest. It’s a Baltimore thing, apparently. This was a group of singing Lucille Balls. They were amazing!

A lot of people were dressed up as Hons – meaning they wore awesome ’50s-style dresses and had their hair up in beehive ‘dos!

Wow! That was a lot of pictures. I probably took over 300 that weekend, so you can just imagine how hard it was to narrow it down to the ones I have here. Hope you enjoyed them!

Here are some questions for you: Have you ever been to Baltimore? What’s your favorite zoo or aquarium? Have you ever heard of the Honfest before? (And are you like me and when you say “Honfest,” you think of the Huns from Mulan walking around eating cotton candy and funnel cakes?) Do you have a local festival that you attend regularly?

What is art?

I’ve featured more than a handful of posts on this blog that have to do with art – from my Wandering Bard series to the recently revamped schedule that has me blogging about various works every Wednesday. But then it hit me – how much do you guys know? What are you interested in? What would you like me to talk about? Because, really, I can go on and on about anything I like, but there’s really no point if you guys just give it a cursory glance and then hit ‘delete.’

So, let’s start with the most basic of questions: what is art? Did I say basic? I meant to say ‘one of the most complex and widely debated questions of all time.’

Yes, it’s that serious.

“That Word” by Gyöngy Laky (made with orchard prunings)

The definition that you’ll find if you plug the word into Google is this: “The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture.”

But I went to school for four years to study art history. It’s a lot more complicated than that (and we’ll get to that in a minute). We were also taught to create an individual definition of art. Why? Well, art is subjective – you like certain pieces and you don’t like others. So, shouldn’t the definition be subjective too? Should you and the random Joe on the street corner have the same EXACT definition of art if your tastes and opinions are a million miles apart?

I agree with this, and I think it’s important for someone to have a very strict sense of what they like and what they don’t like, what they consider art and what they don’t consider art. In a way, I wish I had a strict definition, but I don’t. And I probably never will. Maybe this stems from the fact that I’m a writer – how can someone say that what I’m doing is not writing just because they don’t like it? So, my definition of art is pretty close to the textbook version. If the artist intends it to be art – how can we argue with them, the creator, the person that made it?

Now, that’s not to say that just because I have a broad definition of the term, doesn’t mean that I think all art is GOOD art. On the contrary, I’m deeply connected with both Classical and Renaissance art. There are very, very few modern pieces that I actually enjoy. And I can probably count them all on one hand. So, just because it might be considered art, doesn’t mean that I have to like it!

So, here’s a monkey wrench to throw into the machine (I did promise you complex, right?). What about when art is not created, but found?

There is a type of art called “readymade art,” also known as “found art.” This type of art is simply an object that has not been altered (or only altered moderately, but is at least still recognizable), but has been declared “art.” You might know which direction I’m heading in: Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain.

If you’re unfamiliar – yes, that’s simply a urinal placed on its side.

We’ll get into what it means in a second, but here’s some more about readymade art. There are some rules to this category. Or, at least, one main one: the artist must have an idea about it – a reason why it would be considered art. This is almost always reflected in the title of the piece.

Now, here’s the interesting part. Fountain’s purpose, as described by American Dada artist Beatrice Wood, was to shift the focus away from aesthetics (what the piece looked like) and focus it more on the meaning of the object. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? Furthermore, she wrote, “Whether Mr Mutt [R. Mutt, Duchamp’s alleged pseudonym, as signed on the piece] made the fountain with his own hands or not has no importance. He CHOSE it. He took an article of life, placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view – created a new thought for that object.”

Well…that kind of makes sense, doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong – I’m not a fan of Duchamp or this particular piece, but the idea behind this kind of art really stretches the imagination. It forces you to think about what you would consider art and what you wouldn’t. So, now the definition isn’t so much about the creation of an object, but the thought put into the significance of it.

Trippy, right?

And if you’re wondering, the meaning of the piece is slightly skewed. Some believe that it looks like the head of the Madonna, or perhaps the body of a classic Buddha statue. The title plays with several ideas, of which the name R. Mutt is also a part of. Perhaps it’s an acronym. Perhaps it has to do with the German armut (“poverty”). Or perhaps all the current (and past) interpretations are wrong and the artist meant something else entirely.

(And just in case you’re weird like me and like to know strange and gross facts about things, check this out: The original is gone now. All that remains is a photograph. However, there are some copies that are in museums around the world, one of which is an artist approved replica. And, apparently, several performance artists have successfully added their contribution to the piece…by urinating in it.)

So, here are some questions that I’d honestly like you to answer because it’ll help me gauge your interest in these subjects. What do you consider art? Do you think Fountain should be considered art? If not, how come? And lastly, what is your favorite kind of art? Do you have any requests?

Saturn Devouring his Children by Francisco de Goya

The other day, Jessica O’Neal posted about the Greek Titans and it reminded me of one of my favorite paintings of all time: Saturn Devouring his Children (also known as Saturn Devouring his Son, but I was taught the first title in school, so that’s what I’m stick with here!) by Francisco de Goya. For those of you who are unfamiliar, here is a nice picture of it. (Warning: It isn’t for the faint of heart.)

Saturn Devouring his Children by Francisco de Goya

Isn’t that…interesting? Gruesome would probably be a better word for it. Goya was a Spanish painter who lived from 1746 to 1828. Most of his paintings were beautiful pieces of work, but there was a time near the end of his life that the subject matter became much, much darker. This may have been due to declining health and a sense of paranoia that could have been a result of dementia or some sort of brain damage. A series of paintings that include the one above have come to be known as his “black” paintings for their dark nature – both in style/color and content.

Portrait of Francisco Goya by Vicente López y Portaña

These paintings were first done on the walls of his home between 1819 and 1823. They were later taken from the walls and transferred to canvas (I’m not totally sure how that works, but I won’t argue). They now hang in the Museo del Prado in Spain. Most of them have had to be restored, and in the process they may have been painted a wee bit darker than the original. Saturn is probably the one with the least amount of damage.

So, what is this painting about? Well, I highly recommend reading Jess’ post, as that gives a great rundown on the story of the Titans. In particular, this painting focuses on Cronus (which is just the Greek name for Saturn, and I’m a traditionalist, so I prefer the Greek names…) eating his children. Why did he do this you ask? Well, he heard a prophecy that said he would be overthrown by one of his kids. He swallowed his children in order to avoid the prophecy, but he was tricked into thinking he had gotten them all. In reality, Zeus was kept safe until the day he overthrew his father and forced him to regurgitate the other kids.

I love this painting, despite the disgusting nature of it. I was lucky enough to see it when I went to the Prado Museum and boy is it bigger than I thought it would be! It stands about 5 feet tall, which definitely lends itself to the painting. It makes it feel bigger and scarier than it already is. I was also physically affected by the painting – being that close to such a rendering of this myth actually made me a little queasy (and I don’t have a weak stomach). It was…pretty awesome! To be physically affected by anything – art, music, writing – means that the artist has done their job well.

The only qualm I have is that Cronus doesn’t actually eat his children. He swallows them whole and is then forced into throwing up each one. But the painting makes a statement nonetheless, and there are many theories as to what the meaning behind it was: the conflict between age and youth, that time conquers all (Cronus basically = father time), or even as an allegory for what was going on in Spain. Like most paintings, there are several interpretations and you should always go with the one that speaks most to you, which might not be the one that you were told is “right.”

(As an interesting side note, Goya had six sons and only one survived to adulthood. Maybe this myth particularly hit home for him, as Zeus was the sixth born of Cronus and Rhea.)

So, what do you think? Do you like or dislike the painting? Did it make you feel anything in particular when you first saw it? Are you familiar with anything else done by Goya?

If you recognize any other works by Goya, it’s probably this one – The Nude Maja

Guest Post by Debra Kristi: The Art of Window Dressing

I have a super special guest for you guys today! Debra Kristi is here to visit and share one of her fabulous experiences. This is all about fashion and the art of display pieces. Take is away, Debra!

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Thank you for having me, Karen. *waves* When Karen first asked me if I would guest blog about art, I wondered what I could possibly say that would be of any interest. She’s had so many interesting posts on some pretty amazing talent, how could I possibly fit? But Karen knows that I come from a family of talent and she seemed determined to squeeze something out of me. Little did she know I’m the less talented of the bunch! *laughs*

Growing up I was surrounded by my mother and grandmother’s rich oil paintings. My mother even went on to teach classes in her soft Impressionist style. I, on the other hand, always preferred to work with pencil or ink, sticking primarily to the black and white hues.

Painting never became my thing, but working with tangible elements that I could move and arrange – that was something I got into. I learned a lot about art over the years. It has a lot to do with placement – where you want the eye to be drawn. Upper right corner is the usual, natural location. I almost always recommend up. And, of course, color palette – will you be using similar colors, complimentary, or strikingly different? The combinations are endless.

A few years after graduating from college with a degree in business (Operations Management), I ventured back into the artistic world, attending the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising. It was one of those crazy expensive decisions we sometimes make in life, looking for validation of what we think we know, but are yet unsure. It is a project from this period in my life I thought I’d share today. It’s definitely different from anything Karen has shared with you so far.

Think about walking down 5^th Avenue in New York City and taking in all the fabulous window displays. For someone like me, that’s like a six-year-old stepping foot onto Disneyland’s Main Street filled with Disney characters. I bubble over with excitement. Those windows are what visual designers aspire to. Of course, I’m not going to tell you I was the superb designer on any of those beauties. I’ve never even been to New York. But I have created artistic displays in a similar fashion.

My personal taste has always been “less is more.” I don’t like clutter. It confuses the eye, leaving you with no idea where to focus. If your display is a mannequin, be it just one or several, include minimal props. Smaller windows use the same concept, using only a few supporting elements to make the focal items look more attractive.

In 1996 my visual design partner and I got the opportunity to create a window display featuring two 1960’s vintage dresses. We didn’t have much to work with, but I did say less is more. What we had were a couple of blank mannequins. Painted in an old flat white paint, they did little to highlight the dresses and make them pop. Yes, I know. White is good, even great, when you want the focus to be on other things. Yet there are times when you can do better. Our dresses demanded a little more drama and pizzazz. A simple change to flat black alone made a huge difference. The fun little go-go dresses suddenly found new life.

There may have been life, but was it enough? Turning to the dresses for further inspiration, from each of them we pulled out a pattern to wrap around their respective mannequin, pulling color from the dresses in a thin, less conspicuous line. After that, only one more element was needed to give the window a complete look. Oversized chains were added, dropping them down in a clean straight line from the ceiling.

POW! We had the look we were striving for. A simple white backdrop, two nondescript flat black mannequins, a couple of amazing vintage dresses, some foam core, metal hoops, paint and brushes and voila – an eye catching design.

Not many stores take the time to do more than slip an outfit on a mannequin these days. Unless, of course, you’ve made your way to 5^th Avenue in New York or some other trendy fashion district. Do you notice when a store designer takes the extra time on a display, be it in the window or on a vignette inside the store? Is it something you’ve ever done or had the desire to try your hand at?

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Debra Kristi lives with her husband, two active children, and one White’s Tree Frog. She is currently working on her first Young Adult Fantasy novel, but has many more stories to share. She holds a degree in Operations Management and a Professional Designation in Visual Display and Spatial Design. She graduated from FIDM as Valedictorian, receiving the Niedermaier Merit Award and the special honor of creating the California Student Aid display for the State Capital. When not writing, she is usually building puzzles or Legos with her kids in her free time.