After watching my friend Jo Quincy, CZT, create a Mooka-Tipple combination tile, I thought I'd have a go.  I've done this tile before but not for ages.  Jo has damaged a finger on her dominant hand very badly and has been tangling with her non-dominant hand and producing work as gorgeous as if she was using the dominant one--she is really amazing.  (NOTE:  I used my dominant hand to do this one and it's not half as good as hers, done with her "wrong" hand.)

I tangled with a blue Micron 05 over a pre-prepped watercolored Zendala--on the left.  And then tarted up the piece with some watercolor pencils and gold gellyroll, on the right above.  Which one do I prefer?  Don't know.  My tile is totally inspired by Jo's piece, but of course it came out differently as tangling is like handwriting.  Hers is much more subtle.  To see hers, go HERE.  And as you watch, be aware she's using her "wrong hand."  Amazing!

Imitation is indeed the sincerest form of flattery.

Finally, I had to play with them on my iPhone apps and producted these 2 versions:

Playing with "special effects" is always fascinating, especially any shift in color.  Knowing that we don't always see color the same way makes this even more intriguing.  Which version(s) do you prefer?

Continuing with zenAgain21:  Here's a Dali-inspired tile.  Mine looked quite different from those done by others (they were better at listening to the directions).

I know, scary stuff, huh?

"When we are asleep in this world, we are awake in another."  - Dali

He's not one of my favorite artists, but this was a fun idea to experiment with.

This was done with brown and black microns, graphite, watercolor pencils and white chalk pencil with a touch of white gellyroll on a 3.5" white tile.

Somewhere during the four days, we worked on an Opus tile (10 inches square).  I have plans to re-do this one, since I liked the idea but felt a bit too rushed during the execution.  It was fun though.

I have a few other things to finish or re-do, so that's it for now.  What an opportunity.  To be tangling for four days straight was just wonderful.  And exhausting.  As Molly Hollibaugh says, "Drawing is a physical act."  True!

On the second day of zenAgain21, we discussed William Morris's fabulous designs.  (A good friend who hadn't heard of him until about 2 years ago called him "The Wallpaper Guy," a name I found very funny and which always sticks in my mind, with affection).  He's been a design hero of mine since I first saw his designs in my adolescence.

Most unfortunately, this first tile that we did--inspired by his work--did not inspire me.  In fact, this may be one of the first tiles I ever produced that I truly dislike.

Bear in mind that all 300+ participants were doing this same tile at the same time, and everyone's varied, but they all resemble this one.  Some people absolutely did a better job than I, but even in that case, I don't like their tiles either.  There is something about this design that grates on me in a way none of Morris's work ever does.

My reaction to this  design was so unusual I wanted to mention it here.  I notice that I like the individual elements, but I do not like the way they come together.  At all.  !!

So moving along, we did a second tile inspired by Morris that day and I could relate to this one a lot better.  (below)

So.  zenAgain21 happened last week. 
Four days of Zentangle® and so much fun.

This card (drawn by Maria Thomas, Rick Roberts, and who-knows-who-else) was waiting for us in our bags as we got started.

Of course the "swag boxes" were identical and came with these terrific totes to hold all the supplies.

Each participant received the same supplies.  Because I was attending with a friend and we didn't want to get our swag mixed up, I decided to tangle the cover of my journal before the workshop got underway:

This i a beautifully constructed journal that opens completely flat. 
Oh, the possibilities.

Next, we began by warming up with this piece--two newly-introduced tangles:  Pangea and Myrth.

It's not quite on the horizon yet, but it's coming.  Just got my 2022 calendar and did some simple tangling on the cover.

Where did 2021 go?  Only about 6 weeks of it remaining.
Did I use my year well?  Did you?

As for me, I'm not quite sure I am through with this tangling.  I'll have to sit with it another day or two to see what I might add.

I just finished attending zenAgain21, so I have other tangles to post and will try to get to them this week.

A quick trip into letter-land to produce an Embedded Letter for an assignment. 

There's something so soothing about the simple act of drawing lines and patterns.

Sometimes tired old things just need to be dressed up a bit to shine. 

Cue the comments on whether that's true for all of us!  I'm talking about things.  Ha.

This morning I found a gray tile that I'd tossed some lavender-ish watercolor on long ago, in an early attempt to map-tangle.  The color had spread out over most of the tile, with absolutely no interesting shape, and was incredibly plain.  BO-ring. 

Out came more watercolors today and I tarted it up, used my heat gun to dry it, and went to town with some of the Inktober tangles.  Better.  Every tangle except one was brand new for me.  Some of them turned out more successfully than others, so I'll re-do the ones that really didn't have enough room to show themselves off.  Perhaps that'll be the task for tomorrow.

This is what happens when I run out of black Micron 01s and still want to tangle.  Spynes, which I tried for the first time yesterday, is a really fun tangle for experimentation--I couldn't resist this second try.

The Stone House Runner is nearly done; just the usual finishing steps left.  Here it is:

A meditation on the preponderance of spirals in the cosmos.

"In a spiral galaxy, the ratio of dark-to-light matter is about a factor of ten. That's probably a good number for the ratio of our ignorance to knowledge. We're out of kindergarten, but only in about third grade."
--Vera Rubin

I enjoyed every moment of this one.  Enough said.

How many ways can a drawing go wrong?

Just watch.

I haven't laughed this hard in a long time.  Oh gosh, I started off drawing the tangle Dewd, which I have never quite grasped.  (an understatement if there ever was one)

The first thing to go wrong was that I discovered that my beloved Micron 01 was dying.  I searched for a new one, which was when I found out I did not have another 01.  What to do?  I picked up an 05 instead.  Oh dear.

That's one of the things that gives this very funny tile a look of having been drawn by Edvard Munch (the painter who created The Scream).  But wait, there's more!

Dewd is the tangle around the edges of this Zendala.  I kind-of-almost had it at first, and then totally lost it as I moved in toward the center.  At several points I thought, "Oh for Pete's sake--this is rubbish, I can't go on."  But hey, it's Zentangle®.  We always keep going and see what happens.  One line at a time.

So instead I started to laugh and plowed on.  I added another tangle in the center.  Oh my, a nice one but it didn't help.  Edvard Munch lives on.

Well hey, in for a penny in for a pound, right?  Will it help if we tart this up with color?  (no)  Out came the Silver Shadow Gellyroll pens.  These are always tricky to use as you never quite know how they will look when dry.  I followed that up with a liberal application of General's Colored Pencils in two colors.  Thus proving the saying by Oscar Wilde, "Nothing succeeds like excess."

Because despite it all, I kinda like it.  And I laughed my way all the way through, which is always fun.

It felt great today to just sit and tangle awhile.  Quiet and relaxing.  I'm rusty but the annual 'Inktober" Challenge adapted for tanglers got me going and I couldn't be happier, even though we're already nine days into the month.  I plan to do what I can and thoroughly enjoy doing it.  It's good to be back.

 And here it is, my current punchneedle embroidery project.  You've seen the progress in the past few posts, from the beginnings to the middle and now it's about 2/3's done.

This is a relatively large project.  It will be 9"x20" when completed.

Slowly but surely I am getting there; punch by punch by punch.  There will be thousands of punches by the time I reach the end.

In meditation, we go breath by breath.  I often think I was well prepared for meditation by the textile pieces I did as a teenager, so many years ago.  Stitch by stitch, breath by breath.  Cultivating an ability to stay with each moment, with each stitch.  With each breath.

...although that isn't always possible in every case, right?  we sometimes don't have a choice to do what we love. 

But.

When it is possible, turning toward what we love really helps.  This tile, which I think is "ok" but certainly not a favorite, reminded me that it's all right to skip classes when I can see that the finished product doesn't particularly appeal to me.  This one didn't, because it's so busy.  But I did it anyway, because it's part of the multi-class package from last spring's Artifex Eruditio, a brilliant philanthropic educational experience run by some hugely talented CZTs in Singapore.  There must be about twenty classes to choose from.  All of them included in the package.

With that number of classes, it's guaranteed I won't be interested in every one.  I've skipped a few already that held minimal interest, but I felt I "should" do this one.  So I did.

What's great about having done it:  it's been weeks since I have drawn anything.  I've been busy with a very large punch needle embroidery project (see the last post) and still have far to go.  So I've put off all drawing.  But today I drew for two hours and enjoyed every moment, even if I'm not particularly attracted to the result.

Which reminds me:  Anything worth doing is worth practicing (I'm preaching to myself here).  That is true with any skill.  I am out of practice with drawing and need to begin again.  It's also true with meditation, which fortunately I have been practicing daily--and every meditation is itself a practice of beginning again in every moment.

Two of the big joys in my artistic life are:  Drawing and textiles.  Oddly, I have trouble doing projects in both media at the same time.  It seems I'm "all in" for one but need to postpone the other.  I am enjoying every stitch in my current embroidery, but wow, am I missing drawing.  And I see the results of being out of practice. 

Although I'm not sure how to resolve this dilemma, I am so very happy I spent time drawing today.

Practice doesn't make perfect. Practice reduces the imperfection.
--Toba Beta

I have more done than this shows, but to make a better photo, I had to cut out some of the parts that are partly-done but mostly-undone.  This is the Stone House Runner in progress (from The Old Tattered Flag, links in my previous post), a punchneedle embroidery pattern using cotton Valdani threads.  I haven't cleaned this up in any way yet so it's still raggy-looking but it's coming along.  It's also the reason I haven't been drawing--I've been obsessed with getting this underway.

It's a pure pleasure to be punching this piece. 

(There are a lotta p's in that last sentence, eh?)

Another new project, with all the excitement of a new beginning.  This piece is one I've had my eye on making for years, literally...it's called the Stone House Runner and it's also from Old Tattered Flag.  Julie, one of the owners, is such a great designer.  You can get this as a punch needle embroidery piece OR as a full-sized stunning rug design.  At some point, despite wanting to focus on my own designs, I may also want to make this as a rug because it's so beautiful.  Here you are just seeing a small part of the entire design.  I've put off punching this for 5+ years and now is the time.

Beginning again with projects brings so much excitement.  Unless, that is, I have to pull something out and totally re-do something (start over), in which case it can bring another emotion entirely, one that's less fun. 

Still, I'm reminded of that most basic instruction in meditation:  When the mind wanders, just notice that, and begin again.  Without judgement.  Oh yes, that's the hardest part:  without judgement!  Both in meditation and when re-doing a project at work or in a hobby or in art. 

And yet, there is always, always something fresh and interesting when we start over/begin again.  Always something to learn.  As I practice this in both meditation and art, I get enormous pleasure from those learnings.   Just as I am with this new piece.  It's excitement AND contentment, all rolled into one.

Why "done but not finished?"  Because this is the piece that I'll be using to demonstrate finishing at the class I'm giving a couple of friends on punchneedle embroidery.  The punching is done; the finishing will wait for the class. 

If you look at this sample, there are some loose threads that have popped up on the front and need to be trimmed.  That's one part of finishing a piece.  On the back, which can't be seen here, there are many loose ends to trim.  And there are two other major finishing techniques waiting to be done--I'll use this sample to demo at the class. 

This pattern is GREAT for beginners--not only do you learn to punch, but there's some additional hand embroidery involved (the red petals on the echinacia flower), plus the border is punched using a deeper height on the needle, which gives newbies a chance to see what punching much longer loops will feel like.  The design is simple enough for a beginner.  This is the Old Tattered Flag's design called Under the Blooms.  You can even buy it as a kit with all the threads required.  Highly recommended if you want to learn punchneedle embroidery, or if you plan to teach it.

In just a few weeks I'm going to be teaching two good friends how to do punch needle embroidery.  They are both ordering kits from The Old Tattered Flag in New York.  One has ordered a kit called "Under the Blooms," so I am making up the kit in order to have an actual finished model for them to examine. 

Here we have the start--the two crows under what will eventually be an echinacea plant.  Since students always have a lot of questions about proper spacing and about frames, needles, threads, it'll be useful for them to have something real to inspect and should prompt even more questions.  A very good thing.  And I am enjoying the process as usual.  This particular textile art is totally relaxing.

The people we tend to call Huichol in Mexico (they call themselves Wixåritari, or, The People) have a long history of art.  I've admired their beadwork, small glass beads pressed into wax lining the bottoms of gourd-bowls and other objects coated with a thin layer of wax, using bright, bright colors.  Check it out at the link above.  They work in many media in addition to beadwork--textiles, paintings, et cetera. 

This tangle is based on a shape common to their culture and others.  We see it in quilting patterns everywhere, and in many other cultural contexts.  Mexican CZT Celina Bonilla Martin gave a class using the form as a template.  I decided to go with a different colorway and did my own thing.

Tangles included:  Printemps, DoDah, Wadical, Umbler, Flux, Ko'oke'o. 

What interested me was that most of the way through working on this, it looked like it was going to turn out as an epic failure on my part.  It looked horrible.  I wish I'd taken photos during the progression.  And then I began adding the tangles and it turned around.  While it may not be a masterwork on my part, I quite like it now.

How many times have I said that here, and drawn a parallel to daily life?  Trying out new things often brings on a feeling of, "Oh my god, this is never going to work," and then somehow it turns out better than expected.  And with practice, we just learn more and get better and better.  This is certainly not true in all situations in life, but it's the case far more often than not.

The critical mind is always predicting epic failures.

Just ignore it.  See what happens instead.

I've been wanting to attempt an illustrated letter for quite a while and decided to try it this evening.  I learned a lot doing this.

Every line in a drawing is a new experience.  There's no "right" place to begin.   We just start.  Each individual line is a new creation.  There's no "right" way to draw anything.  Some drawings are "better" than others...but if we're drawing mindfully, they all teach us something, no matter the result.

It's the same with meditation.  There is no one right way to meditate.  Every moment is new, and if our minds wander--which of course, they always do--we simply draw in a new breath, and begin again.

A repeat of yesterday's tile.  This is version 2.0 since I gave away the tile I did yesterday as a thank-you gift to a neighbor.  I realized I still wanted a version for myself and redid it, enjoying every line.

In today's version I added substantial green coloring as well as the blue, and experimented a bit with placement of patterns.  This was just as much fun as the first one.

Another "learning tile" done very quickly from an Artifex video.  This was done fast as a thank-you gift for a friend who made me a lovely dinner.  I cannot cook so cannot reciprocate, thus I wanted to draw her something as a way of expressing gratitude.

However, I needed gray-toned paper to work with, and didn't have any.  What to do?  I grabbed a white tile and threw a gray wash on it.  Et voilà--it actually worked!  I'll give it to her this evening.

Whew.  When it doubt, improvise.  Always a big life lesson for me.

The phrase "throwing shade" has an entirely different cultural meaning, but I thought it would be fun to graphically show three versions of the effects of shading a piece of work.  A different meaning to the phrase for sure.

He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.
--William Blake

Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see.
--Martin Luther King, Jr.

I'm turning into a major fangirl of CZT Emiko Kaneko, who has a fantastic Youtube channel and shares her teaching there.  This (above) is my version of one of her lessons after watching one of her free videos. 

Here below are a few of the stages this mandala went thru on its way to completion.  I photographed as I drew.  What a calming experience.

One line at a time. 
Stay present. 
Cultivate patience. 
Enjoy the moment. 
Mistakes?  What mistakes--a mistake can be addressed and learned from. 
Appreciate appreciate appreciate. 
Hold the pen (hold things) lightly. 

I love the lessons I learn from Zentangle®; they're directly applicable to meditation, to daily life, to just about everything.

I made hard-boiled eggs last week and after they cooled this is what I saw.   I took a photograph because if ever there was an egg begging for kintsugi, this one was it. 

However, I ate the egg in my dinner salad, so no kintsugi took place. 

Not sure what kintsugi is?  It's the Japanese art of mending broken ceramics using gold in the cracks, resulting in a mended object of striking beauty.   Look HERE. 

The beauty is in the brokenness.

The instant I saw that egg I wanted to paint it, though I've no idea why.  Perhaps I've been thinking about kintsugi recently as I observe so much brokenness surrounding us all. 

Compassion can be one way to join our pieces back together, to form a strong bond, and to heal ourselves.

I contemplate this, and then write:
---------
Pick up your broken pieces. 
Lovingly place them together.
Be gentle. 
Add the gold. 
Allow time for healing.
And then, look. 
So much beauty.
---------

And here is one lovely article I saw on the topic.