Bex Hall

Exploring Creativity

Bex Hall > creativity exercises

creativity exercises

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

July brings celebration in nature

July 2021 Phenology Wheel

It may have been the wettest July on record, at least in nearby Huntington, WV, but we still had plenty of hot and sunshiny days.

July 2021 Nature Journal

The Mimosa tree blooms are still fragrant and plentiful. The delicate white of Queen Anne’s Lace and the periwinkle blue of Chicory adorn the roadsides. Dragonflies and Swallowtails flit and feed along with what so far has been only female hummingbirds at the wild trumpet vine and Stick Verbena flowers.

Queen Anne’s Lace and Chicory

The morning glories are a month behind their usual domination of the patio trellis and so far only deep purple blooms dot the green wall of heart-shaped leaves.

Fifty Cent, the House Wren

Most mornings at exactly 5:30, the first bird to shatter the night’s silence is a House Wren I named Fifty Cent. The bird book says they weigh about as much as two quarters, so… 

For fun, I play an audio recording of a House Wren and watch with amusement as he warbles and scolds in response. He built a nest and found a mate. But from what I’ve read, this is probably just one of his multiple families.

A few of the sunflowers have bloomed, some with petals growing in the centers of the heads, but they still serve their purpose; the bees don’t seem to mind their odd appearance. One monster sunflower has reached a height just past the gutter. Its head seeks the setting sun on the opposite side of the house, even though the bloom has yet to open.

The full buck moon this month was a baby aspirin orange when it first appeared which led to a new nickname: pumpkin moon. Is it wrong to be thinking about pumpkins in July? I see patches of the brilliant orange and yellow leaves of the Staghorn Sumac nestled among a sea of green. A harbinger of Autumn, a mere seven weeks away.

A Whitetail Skimmer

But for now, today I will notice and enjoy the sultry air, the dance of the bats and lightning bugs at dusk and dawn, the fiery sunsets, bare feet on grass and in puddles, and flower heads that magically move under the weight of bumblebees and butterflies. 

“Woods are filled with the music of birds, and all nature is laughing under the glorious influence of Summer.” — Charles Lanham, Author, Artist, Librarian

Well done, July. 👏🏻

Charles Lanham quote

The month of June bursts with life

Bugs, birds, and bunnies are stars of the show

June 2021 Nature Journal & Phenology Wheel

June unfolded with hanging wisteria, feral roadside tiger lilies, and mimosa trees laden with pink powder puffs. Little yellows and common blue butterflies flit from coneflower to verbena to dianthus.

This is the time of abundant sweet strawberries, so June’s full moon came to be known as the Strawberry Moon by the Algonquin tribes.

June 2021 Nature Journal

June also hosts the longest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, also known as the summer solstice, when the sun is directly over the Tropic of Cancer. This day marks the beginning of the gradual decrease of daylight. The climax in the three-act structure of our summer narrative.

Every workday morning my husband drives down our little rural road and if he sees four or more rabbits, he calls me to report the count. We’ve seen as many as eight bunnies dive into the safety of the brush from the asphalt as we make our way to town. 

The red-winged blackbird is plentiful and I see them among the cattails in the marshy areas and near the river where the mayflies are still swarming. In the 14 years here, this is the first time I’ve seen mayflies in July.

Red-winged blackbird

At the end of the month we saw a juvenile red-tailed hawk unsuccessfully attack a snapping turtle which was creeping across the road. We’ve watched with amusement as the clumsy hawk bumps into limbs, flounders, and lands on the ground. It’s as if it “picks up its skirts” and with care, long stride lunges on its lily white legs across the grass for a few feet before it stretches its wings, takes flight and soars over the river.

June 2021 Phenology Wheel

The month held oven heated air, humidity, and a few cooling thunderstorms. Magnificent, moody sunsets. Bats swooping for a meal at dusk. Evenings into nights sprinkled with fireflies floating and blinking above the dewy grass.

Every sunset is different

“Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.” —Shakespeare

Strawberry full moon

See you next year, June.