We just got a couple new images from Christian Skagen’s “Horizontal Fields” series, which we blogged about last week (with my apologies for having flubbed the title; sorry — it’s “Horizontal Fields,” not “Horizontal Lines” as I first wrote).
Anyway, click through to see some pieces Christian made with J. Herbin Rose Tendresse and Bleu Azur and a Pelikan M250 EF:
Karen recently struck up a conversation with Norwegian artist Christian Skagen, who shared some of the vibrant ink-and-hot-pressed-paper drawings he’s been making for a series entitled “Horizontal Fields.” Here, for example, is a drawing Christian made with a Sailor Sapporo EF, 300gsm Arches HP, and J. Herbin’s Rose Tendresse:
Here are close-ups of the three works that are framed at the top of this post (be sure to click the image to see a larger version and appreciate the full intricacy and texture of the lines):
Some great new stuff at our Flickr group! For example, this sketch by Sophie, who’s also posted some beautiful Handalas, modge-podge photo transfers, and a fun, off-kilter watercolor:
See more of Sophie’s work on her blog and at her Flickr page. Also not to be missed: Stephanie’s vibrant mandalas, and this lovely whisper of a drawing by Gentian.
Thanks so much for sharing your work with us!
I found these images recently when I was straightening up my desktop (New Year’s resolution: keep my files better organized).
Karen sent them to me years ago, and it’s just madness that I’ve never blogged about them, because they’re totally interesting. Here, for example, is a montage of old print ads (click through to see a larger version):
And here’s an office display that seems to have been set up for a trade show booth or something:
Here’s a simpler trade show display:
The last few weeks have been spent rushing around shopping, cleaning, decorating and preparing for Christmas. I’m ready for the holiday except for the most important thing: an unhurried heart to receive the fullness of the season. For that, I need to give myself the gift of time–preferably in a bookstore or museum. In the presence of books and art I feel calm and centered.
I’m heading to the Brooklyn Museum to see James Tissot: The Life of Christ. The exhibit includes 124 watercolors selected from a set of 350 that depict detailed scenes from the Bible. It marks the first time in 20 years that any of the Tissot watercolors has been on view. 
Born in France, James Tissot (1836-1902) enjoyed great success as a society painter in Paris and London in the 1870s and 1880s. Returning from London to Paris, he planned to produce a series of paintings of fashionable Parisian women.
One day, during Mass at the Church of St. Sulpice, he had a vision of Jesus tending to people in a ruined building. After this experience, he abandoned his former subjects and embarked on an ambitious project to illustrate the New Testament.
In preparation for the work, he made expeditions to the Middle East to record the landscape, architecture, costumes, and customs of the Holy Land and its people, which he recorded in photographs, notes and sketches.
An interactive view of Tissot’s sketchbook can be seen here. The sketchbook is made of wove paper bound in leather, 9 1/8 x 6″.
First presented in Paris in 1894, the watercolors were received with great enthusiasm, and a highly publicized exhibition later traveled to London and the United States.
In 1900, at the suggestion of John Singer Sargent, the Brooklyn Museum decided to acquire the series. The purchase funds were raised primarily by public subscription, spurred on, in part, by exhortations in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle newspaper urging readers to contribute to the campaign.
The exhibition runs through January 17, 2010.
To all who celebrate the holiday – warm wishes for a peaceful, blessed and very merry, Christmas.
This lovely little demon comes from a bookmark I picked up years ago while traveling in Spain; he’s from a fifteenth-century painting of the temptation of St. Anthony in the Museum of Fine Arts in Bilbao.
I shoved him in my copy of Beckett’s Murphy, which I had with me at the time, and promptly forgot about him till last week, when I decided to reread the book. Of course, the rereading alone was a pleasure, but it was also nice to reacquaint myself with the bookmark, which I’d always felt was a nice match for the book’s odd, desperate humor (also, Beckett had something of an affinity for medieval sensibilities).
Usually, I keep a collection of old ticket stubs to use as bookmarks — they’re the perfect size and weight, and it’s nice to be reminded of a particular concert or museum as I read. But if a book really speaks to me, I like to choose something that’s especially meaningful and leave it there for future returns. A pretty Japanese bookmark my aunt gave me lives in my copy of Anna Karenina; in Ulysses (which I admittedly haven’t touched since college), it’s a piece of repurposed cardstock with an image of blue sky and clouds. In some books, I simply leave one of my favorite ticket stubs behind — Mrs. Dalloway is home to a stub from Vienna’s Belvedere Gallery, while To The Lighthouse guards a stub from the Frick. It’s basically a way of saying I plan to come back to the book.
What are your bookmark routines?
I’ve always felt very fortunate to be a part of this blog (the community! the creativity! the paper!), but this is almost too cool for words — Gentian graciously offered to customize my Rhodia pad after I saw some of the cover art she posted last month on Flickr.
Needless to say, she went above and beyond with two different cover designs and three adorable animal characters. She’s already put them up on her blog and on Flickr, but I’d like to feature them here and give her a big thank you!
Click through to see the second notebook, and visit her blog for closeups.
