Bex Hall

Bex Hall > creativity exercises

creativity exercises

My love affair with words and art

Today’s Squareathon prompt brings back a childhood memory

3x3 watercolor moonscape

Vacation starts today and in that spirit, I embrace time off by chasing rabbits down holes. One of the Squareathon prompts is cerulean, and as I’m wont to do, I googled the word.

It’s a pure blue pigment discovered in 1789 by Swiss chemist Albrecht Höpfner.

It’s particularly valuable for artistic painting because of its hue, permanence, and opaqueness. Artist Berthe Morisot painted the blue coat of the woman in her Summer’s Day, 1879 in cerulean blue.

Berthe Morisot’s Summer’s Day, 1879

In its inaugural year, Pantone kicked the COTY (Color Of The Year) selection off with Cerulean, which they actually called the “color of the millennium.” They felt consumers would be seeking inner peace and fulfillment in a time of uncertainty, while also reflecting on the past and looking toward the future. Thus, they chose this calming blue shade that’s reminiscent of the sky.

Pantone’s Color of the Year, 2000

All interesting facts, but then I read one and it ushered in a significant childhood memory. A defining moment in my love affair with words and art.

Ceruleun Blue on the wrapper of one of my blue Crayola crayons. It was one of the first words I ever noticed. How was it pronounced? What did it mean, exactly?

cerulean Crayola

I remember swatching colors, even though I didn’t know what it was called, with all 64 crayons from the box with the fold top lid and built-in sharpener on the back.

From CrayonCollecting.com

There’s a site called Crayon Collecting, and that was my rabbit hole. I felt like Alice in Wonderland, swirling and twirling and grabbing memories from a mist of dreamy colors.

And with that, I give you two of today’s prompts, cerulean and moon, in a 3”x3” watercolor.

3x3 watercolor moonscape

August is the Sunday of Summer

August Phenology Wheel 2021

August is the Sunday of Summer. And like a Sunday, we enjoy the vestiges of a rhythm we have become comfortable. August brings changes all around us, if you look.

The once majestic sunflowers hang their heads, tired. The verdant hillsides are suffused with a dullness. Morning birdsong comes later than usual. Queen Anne has traded her white lace for fields of purple ironweed and feathery goldenrod.

Hummingbirds are scarce, woolly bear caterpillars are on the march, and foggy mornings are frequent.

Cain and Mabel

August gave us a grand show, though. The morning glory blossoms were at their deepest velvet. Electric pink milk thistle appeared in fields. Pokeweed berries ripened to the color of burgundy wine. Orange jewelweed dotted the landscape.

August nature journal
Full Sturgeon Moon

The air still wraps itself around us like a steamy wet blanket, but soon we’ll use a real one to ward off the chill. Windows will reopen and curtains will billow with cool breezes. Bedtime stories will come earlier and car headlights once again necessary for the morning commute.

American Goldfinch on spent coneflower

When the sun shines in a September blue sky, it will illuminate mountains sprinkled with multicolored confetti against a backdrop of windswept white clouds. There will be hints of pepper and sassafras in the air. Squirrel’s nests will appear among the treetops, their height perhaps an indicator of the level of snow we might expect in winter.

Banded Tussock Moth and caterpillar

I heard cicadas for the first time this summer on Saturday the 21st. According to folklore, six weeks from then will be our first frost here. I’ve marked the calendar for October 2nd, just to see.

August, the Sunday of Summer

There’s only a little while longer for short sleeves and flip-flops. Butterflies, bumblebees, and trees thick with leaves. For this Sunday of summer, I relish the remnants of this relaxed time before I turn the page and begin anew. 

The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year – the days when summer is changing into autumn – the crickets spread the rumour of sadness and change.”

E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web
August 2021 nature journal

A nature walk as an artist date this week

You don’t have to know the name to see what you need to see

Tiger swallowtail

For this week’s artist date, I wandered in nature with my camera. Some subjects were old favorites, like the touch-me-knots, which I used to call popsie-doodles when I was a child. Their seed pods ready to burst open into a curlicue with a light touch.

Touch-me-knots

Or the Pokeweed plants and their deep purple berries. I used to crush them to use as paint and the color matched my favorite syrup, boysenberry, ergo this plant was a boysenberry, which I believed was its name for many years.

Pokeweed

But some names I didn’t know, like the tall, bushy mauve flowers or the yellow butterfly with black stripes or the caterpillar with spikes on its spikes.

A guide tells me the light purple flowers are Joe Pye weed. According to legend, Joe Pye was a Native American herbalist who used it to cure a variety of illnesses, including typhoid fever.

The butterfly appears to be a Tiger Swallowtail.

The spiny caterpillar appears to be a buck moth, which gets its name because it’s one of the few moths that fly during the day during deer season.

Buck moth caterpillar

I went on the artist date this week intending to capture snapshots of nature to use as reference for drawing. But my curiosity demanded to know the names of what I saw and I did that research afterward. Now I know. And so do you.

But the real magic happened before I looked up the names of everything. The real magic was being in nature. I didn’t see Joe Pye weed or a tiger swallowtail or a buck moth caterpillar. 

Joe Pye weed

No, what I saw were mauve air castles nestled among verdant waves dappled with sunlight and shadow. I saw delicate yellow and black fairies dance around the parapets while an armor clad guard stood watch.

I saw summers long past filled with boysenberry painted faces and contests with my cousin to see who could get the most popsie-doodle pops. Seed pod curlicues tied into necklaces. Caterpillars collected and held captive while we witnessed them become whatever they were to become.

To see, we must forget the name of the thing we are looking at.”

—Claude Monet

Until next week, all my love.

It’s time we talk about the artist date

An essential step toward a real relationship with our creativity.

Suspended in time brooch

Julia Cameron, in The Artist’s Way suggests the inner artist needs playful inflow and that a little fun can go a long way toward making your work feel more like play. She goes on to say it’s important to set aside a block of time weekly for what she calls an Artist Date.

I went on my 30th artist date this week. I began doing these, along with the Morning Pages, in January this year. With each date, I am receiving and opening myself to insight, inspiration, and guidance.

Yesterday’s date was like a treasure hunt at two estate sales.  I went with an open mind and if something spoke to me, I would consider it. In a basement, I found four colorful marble eggs, $2 per. I pictured them in my yard’s landscape, near the ceramic chicken that stands guard, and the surprise reaction my granddaughter would have when she discovers them.

Marble eggs for a ceramic chicken

At the second sale, I stopped at the jewelry table as a brooch caught my eye. It was attached to a card touting it handmade in Oregon and titled “Suspended in Time.” Seven tiny clock faces, two set at 9:00 and the other five at 10:08. 

I studied it and wondered how I might use it in some kind of art creation. Worse case, I could pin it to my cork board and enjoy its steampunk quirkiness. I bought it, $5.00.

Later I showed it to my friend who informed me how much she loved clocks and, “Wouldn’t that be beautiful on the lapel of a coat?” she gushed. Of course, I’m now going to give it to her for her birthday later, but its striking and fun the differences in our vision for the same item. Actually wearing it never occurred to me. 😊

Estate sale find

“In order to have a real relationship with our creativity,” Julia writes, “we must take the time and care to cultivate it.”

Do what intrigues you, explore what interests you; think mystery, not mastery.

Until next week, all my love.

So you see, imagination needs moodling—long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering.”

—Brenda Ueland

Neurographic art has captured my imagination

No artistic talent necessary!

Neurographic art

An artist friend, Jae Anderson, inspired me with her neurographic art through the ICAD project. I researched the topic and found a variety of resources online. Each describe it a bit differently, but here’s how I proceeded:

I set an intention and wrote it on one side of a piece of watercolor paper (you can use any kind of paper). On the other side, I used a Sharpie and while thinking of my intention, I scribbled some lines for about three seconds.

Next I rounded all the sharp edges. Wherever there was an intersection and a hard angle, I curved and thickened the lines. 

I then added more lines and extended them off the edge of the page. While meditating on my intention, I curved and rounded off the new intersecting lines. A softening.

After that I added watercolors, (colors are optional), a black border, and called it finished.

As I worked I felt calm and it was as if time ceased to exist. I was completely focused. It was a beautiful and meditative process based in mindfulness.

I’m only just beginning to learn about neurographic drawing, but find it kindles my artistic curiosity. As I experiment and learn more, I’ll share details. 

Neurographic drawing