Artist Writer Etc

2011-02-27T16:54:00.001-08:00

More of Dons Doodles to Enjoy - these complete the group I've selected for Lois and mom to put up at the library.

Doodles By Don

2011-02-27T10:37:00.000-08:00

Doodles By Don

These are original ink drawings by Don Campbell, St. Petersburg, Florida.

Don Campbell resides in a residential care facility suffering from dementia in St. Petersburg, Florida. In his early years, he began doodling images when listening to philosophical, spiritual or other teachings. It kept him centered and allowed him to sit still during such moments, a lesson teachers might take when dealing with young minds that also can wander during class time. While doodling for some may take their mind from the lessons at hand, for others it helps them absorb and order what they are taking in.

My mother, a long time friend of the Campbells, was aware that Don doodled but had not been aware of how prolific and talented he was at such drawings until she was offered one of his works. I became aware a few years ago, when she pointed out that the drawing on her wall of two lovely figures was a work by Mr. Campbell.

Then, on a visit just recently, she asked me to look at a few of the drawings that have collected in the Florida garage over the years. I was completely amazed, first at the number of drawings and then at their unique beauty and quality.

His wife and family do not have the time nor the interest at this time to preserve and present the works, so I was asked if I'd like to help compile some for a local showing at the public library. I immediately said yes, and then realized the daunting responsibility I had just undertaken. Not really knowing the man and having only just recently seen any of his works, I was going to try to select from a random assortment of works, a collective representation of his "doodles". I was also shown a very brief selection of some of his writings, which served to direct me a little in my selection process, but after that it was strictly my own artistic eye and preference that prevailed. I am attempting to catalog the works and have begun the process for the family of archivally preserving the small works, averaging 6"x8", but they have a lot of work themselves getting the hundreds of slips of paper properly stored. I have suggested that they take copies of the artwork or a disc that I am making to a local gallery as well, where some may be shown during a First Friday event. I do hope that one of the local venues will see the value in sharing this St. Petersburg artist's work with the public. I think we've found a local treasure worth recognizing.

If you'd like to see more of Don's works, I will be posting the rest of the collection I currently have in another post. I can also be contacted at tjarticulates@gmail.com. I do not have permission to sell at this time, though we are working on that possibility with Don's wife. I am also working on the possibility of his signing more of the works and/or a limited number of prints. Please feel free to give positive feedback on the artwork. They are both fun and thought provoking, but don't try to take them too seriously. The artist certainly doesn't and didn't when he doodled them. They were a way of coping with sitting and listening. They were a process to ordering thoughts racing through his mind. Now they are for your enjoyment and pleasure.

Sincerely, Terri Miller

2010-09-15T08:24:00.000-07:00

Blue Ridge, Georgia is a lovely little town tucked away in the corner of the state amidst foothill mountains, lakes, rivers and pastures. The Arts Guild sponsors various national exhibits and festivals which is what drew me to the area this past weekend, September 10 -12. My studio partner, Amanda, and daughter, Sara, joined me in the trip to experience the Blue Ridge Fall Plein Aire Festival, and to share time relaxing and enjoying the mountains.

Our first day out, we took our canvases and boards to the center for stamping, and picked up information sheets about the area. Then, we drove off to seek lovely vistas and inspiring views. A fellow artist suggested the Nottley Dam area before we left the center, so we began the drive in that direction. After some winding roads and querying of residents, we finally found a recreation/camping area on the lake where we were able to set up and take in the striking picture set by the green waters we'd been told would be there. The water levels were low due to drought, so the orange and peach colored sands and boulders of the lake were exposed on the shoreline which reaches out well beyond the normal levels for the lake. However, this added lovely warm hues against the verdant color of the lake waters, and the lush foliage lining the shores, and topping the small islands. The sky was in constant flux that day, ranging from threat of rain to bright filtered light and clouds providing a challenge for our artistic approach. This is what plein aire is about after all. We all worked in acrylics this day. The picture of the island and waters (at top) was my submission from the Nottley area outing.

The next day, we wound through the mountains snapping photos and trying to find that perfect spot. The skies were bright and it looked promising. Again, we were challenged by the maps and markers for area recreation areas, but finally found a spot along the Toccoa where tubers were floating through and canoes and kayaks could put in. We had all worn bathing suits in hopes of cooling off during the outing, so we were glad to find a good spot for both painting and water play. Sara successfully braved the running waters to get to a large rock across the river. Amanda wandered up and down the banks taking pictures and looking for her spot, while I chose a large flat rock just a few feet into the waters where I placed my chair, balanced my pastel board and box of supplies precariously above the running waters. We all took a respite playing in the water a bit and then got to drawing and painting. This was only my second attempt at plein aire painting with the first workshop leaving me feeling less than enthusiastic about landscapes. However, the Toccoa river seemed to speak in a language that I could understand and the picture above, bottom, was the result of my experience. The challenge for the day was getting the picture laid down before a large thunderstorm rolled in. I was snapping photos as the first droplets fell.

Sara and I left two paintings each at the Blue Ridge Arts Center where they can be viewed during the rest of this month and first few days of October. There were several lovely paintings coming in as we left, so I encourage anyone in the area to stop by the center. It is worth the visit with many lovely exhibits and shows in the historic building.

In addition, I'd like to add a plug for the cabin we stayed in during the weekend. It is called the Dragonfly Cabin and is a lovely out of the way cabin in the mountains just south of Blue Ridge. It is a challenge for your car a short bit of the way, but worth it once there. Nice amenities, quiet and secluded. Just the right place for relaxing and getting away from life's maddening moments.

Art Stories

2010-07-20T10:37:00.000-07:00

Sorry for taking so long to add something new. It's been a busy summer and spring with the wedding in May.

Some of my work is showing at Rockbridge Regional Art Show and Bath County Art Show.
I have been working in the studio, but this piece I completed at home where I prefer to do my pastels. Exploring the story behind the art, looking at old and new photos and just having some fun with the medium is my new focus. This work will be the first of several I'll debute at the Lynchburg Fall Art Show expressing my art as a way to tell a story/capture history.
I used a museum book with rural photos from 50s-60s photographers and was compelled to capture this black and white image in pastel.
That's it for now.

SunFloral

2010-05-18T17:46:00.001-07:00

Yippee, it's just for pure enjoyment...I got to play...I like to play...

She Speaks to the Spirits

2010-05-18T17:05:00.000-07:00

This is my perception of an aspect of the feminine or heart that is connected to the spirit or spiritual knowledge. She is the counterpart of the masculine or head/world knowledge. I speak in these terms not as dividing men from women but as two parts of a whole. As in many cultures across the world, I have attached aspects of gender to these parts of our being.

This spirit is responding to the vibrations of all that has been, is and will be, not such a remarkable thing as it might seem, if we know time is a human-created idea. If time does not actually exist, then it is possible to be connected in some manner to what we call the past, the now and the future and the energies existing across all. Energy, light, sound does not end, but rather continues on and on and the spirit or heart, here is connecting and responding to this continual flow of energies.

I know some of my friends will scratch their heads thinking I have abandoned my relationship with Jesus the Christ by exploring and sharing such things, but I find that my faith and relationship is actually strengthened by knowing. I don't pretend to be some prophet, philosopher or such, just an observer. I find that there is so much of the Spirit that is lost or avoided in contemporary western religion because it is part of that personal connection, intangible and connected to both light and darkness. It is the very thing we cannot control in others; the spirit that allows us to have faith no matter what others may try to take away or destroy; the spirit that carried and carries the persecuted through great ordeals. It has always existed. It is, as I see it, "I AM", unending.

In the end, perhaps because I live in what is called feminine, I perceive in the feminine. This is my conceptualization, not a theological exposition.

Transitional

2010-05-18T16:39:00.000-07:00

Transitional, for me, speaks to the transition of mind and spirit in response to vibration. The oil painting was laid down over an old acrylic painting that never really had much life or energy. About 2/3 of the surface is rough (earth added to the gesso) and I used mostly warm tones that begin to intrude onto the smoother cool surface to the left. Some might perceive earth and water, light and dark, organic to inorganic or perhaps a landscape (the canvas works on all four sides). Whatever you take from the work, for me it is truly a transitional piece - acrylic to oil, realism to abstraction, brush strokes to scraping, one state of mind/spirit to another....

The Dreamer Questions Gauguin

2010-05-18T16:27:00.000-07:00

Gauguin's Life Questions is obviously the inspiration for this piece. As I worked on figure studies with our model I thought about the different ways I might approach this pose. For longer poses you sometimes wonder what is/was going through the mind of the model, so in this case, I chose to have her ponder the work by Gauguin and the questions it raises about life and beliefs. It's my take on observing the observer.

Getting ready for the show...

2010-04-21T12:30:00.000-07:00

Monday morning...

2010-03-22T06:59:00.000-07:00

Tis' Monday morning
Tra La La
Tis' Monday mourning
Diddly Dee
The week is dawning
Tra La La
The weekend's left us
Diddly Dee
Off to see
What this week brings me
Oh Diddly Diddly
Diddly Dee

Amidst the Din

2010-03-20T07:11:00.000-07:00

This morning
like any other;
rising, moving,
engaging in business of the day.
The business is delivery
of young women to a leadership forum,
and then the wait...
So, I feed my body and quench
caffeine thirst.
Just a quick stop, I say to myself.
Check in on emails,
Sip hot liquid,
Nibble at fruit,
Check blog.
The Din begins.
Richmond waking with me.
Amazing how a morning morphs
from quiet respite
to jumbled laughter,
food preparations,
orders and conversations.
Some hurry in and out,
off to the days adventures.
Others linger,
wrapped in tale sharing
with a friend,
feeding soccer clad youngsters,
giggling, squirming energy hardly contained in small vessels.
A conga line ebbs
and flows in a march
from swinging doors
to order taking.
Jockeying for nesting spots,
nibbling at goods,
random movement
in and about the humming space,
paints a picture
living and passing
into memory.
Neural imprints of a colorful cacophony,
a decidedly American opus.
Part and apart,
participant and voyeur
straddling the tapestry
unfolding
and hitchhiking
for a time within my own and others reality
or fantasy.
It is morning
and I have a parcel of time to spend
weaving in and out
the periphery
of other lives,
until
at appointed hour,
when business dictates
I will return to pick up,
to deliver girls safely
at home's door.
But for now,
pleasure is
the Din of silent voices
poured out
upon a blog
mingling with the clamor
of beings
strange and wonderful.
Partaker of the morning
conversations, musings
and movements.
Being.
Just being,
Here and now.
One with the Din.

In The Works

2010-02-26T16:30:00.000-08:00

Back in the studio again and finally got things in the works....

workin' on mini rendition of the original...

finished an encaustic piece...

Blue Ridge projects...

Working through winter in watercolor

2010-02-09T09:12:00.001-08:00

Today's Winter Collage

2010-02-05T19:22:00.000-08:00

And For The Birds Two Too

2010-02-05T10:50:00.001-08:00

Life goes on ....

Return of Winter Wonderland

2010-02-05T10:26:00.001-08:00

Here we goooo again....

Wild and Wonderful Winter

2010-01-31T11:02:00.001-08:00

Wild and Wonderful Winter ... It's a brrrrutal end to this month, with more to come before the end of winter - bbbrrrrrr!!!

"this is for the birds!" ... I think these little ones have something to say about that ...

"Hey, Mother 'N', yoo hoo ... little overkill on the snow this morning ... tryin' to get a little seed and go ... can you work with us, here?!"

Shakorie

2009-10-11T14:52:00.000-07:00

Shakorie Fire Pics
Finally, got to experience Shakorie Hills Fest. with my friend Amanda, and it was fabulous. As you can see, I was particularly enamored with the Fire Dancers...brings out the "Pyro" in me...

Sara and Dad's Walk About

2009-10-04T19:05:00.000-07:00

Yellow Finch

2009-10-04T18:55:00.001-07:00

Little yellow tufts bob up and down upon the windblown sunflowers that yield up tasty tidbits for hungry bills.

Plover's To and Fro

2009-08-29T14:22:00.001-07:00

Determined, focused and alert
Plovers dart across sand and surf
Relentless in their pursuit
For daily rations of crustaceans
Feathered feeders dart to and fro
Artfully avoiding Neptune's grasp
Fervent searching renders up
A ready meal of sea appeal.

Forest Views

2009-08-29T14:19:00.001-07:00

MORE VIEWS FROM AMANDA'S FOREST FARM HOME...

A Forest Farm

2009-08-29T14:16:00.001-07:00

Can I tell you how fortunate I am to have met Jean, and then, Amanda, her daughter. Their friendship allows me to take a respite from the chaos once in a while to rest my eyes upon the views from their backyard and to play with pastels and cameras capturing the sights.

Beach Art

2009-08-29T14:13:00.001-07:00

Wanted to make the colors the subject and use the rest to guide the eye. I am enjoying experimenting with pastels. However, I'll have to go back and do some oils afterwards.

Pamlico Sound

2009-08-29T14:10:00.001-07:00

The morning light on Pamlico Sound at Hatteras is spectacularly golden and invites the artist and photographer to feast upon the sights.

Kolp's Landing

2009-08-29T13:49:00.001-07:00

KOLP'S LANDING

When you sit on the weathered adirondacks,
Breathing in salt air, as sunlight dries the ocean swim
On your browning epidermis,
Pamlico Sound reveals her shoreline colors
Of beach heather and evergreens,
Alongside azure rippled green waters,
Reflecting the play of earth lights and clouds.
And lulls you with this melody of sights,
Into the stupor of peaceful relaxation
That you've been anxiously awaiting ,
Since you first began plotting
Your escape from reality
To Kolp's Landing.

Pomegranate

2009-08-29T13:48:00.001-07:00

Studies of the Pomegranate

2009-08-29T13:40:00.001-07:00

These are a series of studies I did using the pomegranate.

CRITICAL NOISE

2009-06-29T07:46:00.001-07:00

CRITICAL NOISE

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Landing Midway

2009-04-04T17:38:00.000-07:00

Ra rises, as I've crashed landed amid the rapidly diminishing display of slumber-lights, and the onward rush of daylight, barely missing a lumbering lunar orb on my downward path. Minutes are fleeing the scene before a conscious thought, bounced across neural synapses, manages to lift me from the rattled stupor accompanying my concussed impact. "OOh gggaw. Uh, geeeee...," forcibly heaves up from a clenched gullet, and drags itself across my tongue into the steaming ozone layer of space engulfing a throbbing pate. Lazy lids seem seamed together in rebellious deference to cerebral alerts for assessment of damages accompanied by conspiring defiance from musculoskeletal remains feigning paralysis. Another lapse of measured moments, and the first revelations of perception enter as topsy-turvy images cast on retinal walls, instantly interpreted by dizzied cells attempting to create a translation and elicit a reaction from this grounded lump. Resistance is the first to retort, aiding unrespondent limbs, but something resembling reason demands more. Inner mechanics engage sore movement, elevating the flesh above the collision site, as trembling rocks the two larger extremities I rely upon for upright support. Collapse threatens, unless latent reserves are mustered to the front. Adrenal, bugle calls marshal just enough reinforcement to maintain an upward line. What was first perceived as twinkling darkness reveals itself now in a dusky veil rippling about me and lifting edges, where something likened to iridescent hued blobs blink on... and... off. Leaving the temptation of confined definition, I wander in and out of the dance as both partner and voyeur. The flash of experience that may have preceded this balleted awareness no longer exists. Derision, calamity, aching cries swirling into anonymity, are replaced by strengthening clarity, as lithesome tingles emanate from my center. At last erect, and clinging to a fragile steadiness awareness tweaks forth an idea, a concept of something familiar...M...O...R...N...I...N...G, symbolic notations, a perception of this moment. Mor...n...ing? Morn...ing! Mourning and elation push my mass forward, competing for their place. Now, an eagerness for relief of a bursting at my groin fights with the reluctance of fatigued tissues. The rising pressure wins and pushes my body more quickly towards a shining receptacle, hidden within a sacred shrine of cleansing and elimination. It is the latter ritual which draws me in; which I enter into with practiced familiarity. Relief tingles up my spine and shivers through my limbs as I leave the last drops of collected waters in the urn. And so my experience continues through a haze of domestic rituals: cleansing, costuming, feasting, and cleansing some more. The magic ultimately brings a lucidity that fills the upper sphere and determination leads me to the moment of emergence from my cocoon-like domicile, a safe-hold to which I will later return. When the radiant beams of Ra return to their resting place, I will return to another set of rites and struggles that will eventually thrust me into the realms of slumber from which I have recently emerged.

Water Droplets Photo Show

2008-09-21T11:33:00.001-07:00

Photo Show

2008-09-21T11:22:00.000-07:00

Avon Blues

2008-09-09T21:00:00.000-07:00

I come to cool and refresh my troubled spirit at the waters of a deep blue twilight sea.
Here, the meditative chant of surf upon sand draws me toward the One in whom I find peace and understanding. Here, my soul is immersed in azure hues lifting me up, renewed and strengthened in the knowledge that this blue horizon is simply the beginning of another.

Avon Rising

2008-09-09T20:56:00.000-07:00

What is it about a sunlit horizon that speaks to our wandering souls...?

The realm of gods and astral beings

2008-09-09T20:54:00.000-07:00

Drawn like a thirsting traveler I drink in the perpetually mutating sight and fill a need to connect beyond my small experience. For here, amidst the roiling mists of heaven, I rest my gaze and lose myself to the realm of gods and astral beings. In the billows and forms, I find inspiration flowing through and about me, brushing cool upon my cheek, stirring my spirit.

Lily droplets

2008-09-09T20:52:00.000-07:00

I don't know what the connection is, but I cannot help but collect photos of water droplets strung along grass blades, deposited upon petals, and captured in webs. There is a strange fascination for me in the reflective beads of water that capture the suns light and bejewel nature's kingdom.

Meta Morph

2008-09-07T21:32:00.000-07:00

Meta-woman emerges, grown within a cocoon of time, breaking free and dusting off the refuse of her self excavations. An oft censored voice unveiling, breaks through tradition, rises up toward heavens and brings forth fruits from her spirit, as she takes shape. A unique beauty of transitioning form, for some disturbing and for others inspiring, withstands the assault of a world unready for her metamorphosis.
(This sculpture initially blossomed as Woman's voice and made her debut at our first studio on Madison St. and then at the Lynchburg Fall Art Show in 2007. Now, she has been transformed and recreated into Meta-morph and resides at our last studio, Light Wings Gallery.)

Summer VACA

2008-08-14T12:37:00.000-07:00

Politics! OK, I need a vacation. . .

I'm loving the sun, surf and sand thing right here in the Outer Banks. This triggers the latent St. Petersburg, native Floridian thing in me, slow paced, easy goin' and "what the hey!" You just gotta love the life. The artist and writer in me says, "Why go back?" But then I just pack up at the end and return to the same old grunge just like everyone else.

Well, right now I'm not even thinking about that, no siree. Life is good and vacation is even better. Families are just a whole lot more fun to be with too. Everyone's got the, "boy this feels good," thing going on and we each do our own thing. Even the dog is more laid back than usual. With a beach to walk to, kayak to jump into or dock to fish from if you don't want to be around anyone, off you go.

It's funny to watch the ones we lovingly call the "Northern tourists" bring all their big city hyper-activity on a beach vacation. As my kids said, "why are people going to gyms and shopping malls at the beach? Don't they have those where they come from?" From our experience you can get the same things cheaper on sale where you came from or online? Local tourist shops are understandable and another great spot to be amused. Do they go on vacation to be as anal and uptight as they are at home? Those of us who know how to enjoy vacations are somewhat but not overly sympathetic of tight asses parked next to us on the beach. The bug sprays, tents, mantra music, side baby tents, arguing and crying brats, cell phone conversations that we get to share and other obnoxious luxuries for the beach need to stay back in the AC'd rental house until I leave. What part of a sunny, sandy, nature's wonders beach don't you get? I guess I was raised and raised my kids that the point of a vacation is to get away from the everyday, "normal" routines of life and appreciate the differences.

Talking about enjoying differences, let's talk eating. Oh my god, there's fresh seafood and summer veggies easily accessible and people are cramming into lines at restaurants. Maybe it's just me and my family but we can hardly wait to pick up the fresh seafood and bring it back to our beautiful canalfront house to prepare it and eat it with views that no restaurant can compete with. The fact that most of us can cook may be the reason we're eating better and cheaper than others.

Well I guess there's room for all kinds and if I gotta move farther down the beach then that's what I'll do. You compulsive anal types really need the "Vaca" more than I do that's for sure. Besides, you don't come out when I do at the crack of dawn with the pink lights of the great Ra rising over the Atlantic ocean. I won't find you kayaking along the quiet backwater estuaries or on my deck as I paint. You're not at my dinner table and I'm not dining next to your quarreling kids, so "what the hey!" There's a time and a place for all of us out here though things are getting a little bit more cramped every year on this little spit of land called the Outer Banks. I'm just glad to have this place to escape to once each year and the time to sit quietly thinking about nothing or something, whatever.....Maybe some nice friendly great white will come by and spare us all your return next year.

Enter the Blog-o-sphere

2008-07-30T08:26:00.000-07:00

I humbly enter, recognizing that I am out of my league in this ethereal realm. However, I am willing to stumble clumsily into this "blog-o-shere" ready to learn, unlearn, up and download, unload, "p" some off, make some laugh, create thought, banish thought, play, practice and learn some more, so here I goooooo.....

Let's see, I am currently exploring the writing process and have been, seriously, for about two years. Poetry has always been my mainstay for sating the urge to write. When my children were young I would make up tales with them. Also, I have journaled for myself, albeit sporadically, over the years. After going back to school late in life, and discovering a wonderful, no phenomenal, group of visionary women I now find myself gushing with creativity both in my art and in my writing. I mean that quite literally, gushing. Gushing with ideas, stories, and visions in all aspects of my artistic expression. Some are linked and compliment each other while others are moments unto themselves.

Yes, I've got the extreme opposite of writer's and/or artist's block. It's more like diarhea at this point but not as disgusting, though it can feel as depleting after a few sleepless nights of fervent typing, designing, sculpting or painting. Knowing that this cannot last forever, I try to ride the energy peaks and just pour it out. Nothing like catching a good wave and finding yourself easily gliding across the page or canvas, so to speak. I admit to anticipating the final slam in the back of my mind when all this will ebb away and I will be forced into remission. Not good thoughts to be having at this time, but they are there all the same.

I was told at a Writer's conference that blogs are considered a sort of publication and can be referenced when submitting other forms of work. That's probably what motivates me the most, but I also need a place just to put the random thoughts that ride in along with my current literary project, a sci-fi/fantasy novel. Also, visual artists don't always get to release the inner verbage that for me often accompanies the creation of works. I hope this works on all planes but if not maybe it will just bring a blink of sanity into the manic existence that is my life.