This is the companion piece to Eigengrau Study #1. Instead of using photos of black walls, this one uses photos of white walls. Well, off-white. I never know what to call this color. Beige? Ecru? Taupe? Only after a friend suggested a portmanteau combining gray and biege did I find a name for this piece.
The different angles and reflections of the light bring out steely grays, rosy pinks, and bronzy browns that, sadly, are nowhere on the wall I photographed. The effect is a bit like a series of silver rivets or what you see when looking through a cheese grater.
Magenta and gold ripples in the water made of sky. The meandering path of the drunkard’s path forms, inverts, and dissolves. I’ve enjoyed exploring the combination of painted metal and sky, which began with Driving to Where the Water Meets the Sky, and more will likely follow.
Quilting is one of the most artful forms of recycling, which may be why I’m a bit obsessed with finding a home for every piece of every photo. This photoquilt is comprised of pieces I cut from a previous improv study. Each square is imprecisely divided in half leading to variations in the thickness of each line and the angle of each step.
The color palette is bright and fun and less reserved than my previous piece. The colors mostly contrast the blue sky background, but some blend in almost completely. These 5s (and Ss, Es, and 3s) are an interesting motif to play with and I really like the variety I got even within this small sample. They each began as a (loosely) rectangular strip of color which I took two square bites out of. The location of the bites determined what letter or number the rectangles became. I mostly went for fives, but didn’t fight any variations I created, intentionally or otherwise.
This small photoquilt features warm colors on sky. The colorful blocks vary from light to dark across their length while the blue sky is almost flat, creating an interesting contrast. All of the colors pop against the blue, but the red, in particular, almost vibrates.
This one is a bit of a litmus test: Do you see red columns on a blue background or blue columns on a red background? Cooler colors usually recede, which makes it fun to try to pull them into the foreground. But I’m not sure that making the wider blue portions had that effect. Either way, I enjoy how the different combinations of red paint and blue sky are all the same until you look more closely. Some are bigger or smaller, some are brighter or darker; there’s a whole world of differences if you stop and look for a while.
This third in my series of tiny rainbow photoquilts, this one follows a Bargello pattern, which bumps strips of differing widths up or down to create wave forms. The colored strips are from pictures of car roofs and hoods and the mostly-white strips are remnants from the photo printing process. These are some of the tiniest pieces of photo paper I’ve ever worked with.
This is a piece I’ve been thinking about for a while. It’s an improvised composition of pieces of film-era photographs. Remember those? You’d snap off 24 photos, sometimes over weeks or even months, put them in an envelope, send them away for a week or two, and then pick them up only to find out how bad the lighting and composition really were. These photos are a nice metaphor for memory. Most of these pieces are poorly-focused, over- or under-exposed and feature minimally identifying parts of people and places that I don’t remember anymore.
This is the second in a series of smaller rainbows I’m working on. The first was donated to the Ecole Kenwood Art Auction and was popular enough that I offered to make one for the second highest bidder as well. So, the school got double the donations, two people got a unique piece of art, and I discovered how popular rainbows are, which is fine with me because I love them too.