art
Artistic, musical, creative, and entertaining topics in Journal's workplace sphere.
Why I make tiny teapots
I began taking pottery classes because I wanted to recreate the scene in ghost. I soon realised that I wouldn't be throwing a vase like that for years. If I was in the middle of creating that masterpiece I wouldn't let my man even breathe in my direction. The strength and control required to throw a piece like that. It's always surprising to me that the potters we see in the media, on Tik Tok, that they don't all look like lumberjacks. Myself, I can't throw anything much bigger than a cup. I definitely don't have a talent for pottery. About 50% of the pottery I start out creating collapses in on itself or forms a crack or my dog decides to step on it in the delicate leather-hard phase. It's not natural skill that has kept my doing pottery, and it ain't a cheap hobby either that's for sure. It's the meditation of it. The feel on the clay flowing beneath your hands, the utter concentration required. On that wheel I feel like an earth-bender. There's no shortage of frustrations, but when you leave the studio, having wholly focused on one thing for hours, pouring your very soul into the clay, you feel completely refreshed. The day's troubles tend to come out in the clay, somehow it's like the stress transfers and the clay ripples and sags and twists awkwardly. Once you overcome it though, taming the clay through careful breathing and focused strength, it yields to you. As a student nurse, I am thrust onto unfamiliar wards, dealing with pressure to succeed, be perfect, pleasant and not make mistakes. All this whilst dealing with death, shit, blood and sadness. Some days, I have to sit with a young wife on the floor while her husband seizes and dies beside us. Then as a student, I get the job of cleaning up and bagging the body. Other days I get to deliver babies, and joy turns to chaos as we desperately try to get that baby to take it's first breaths. When the paediatrician arrives I hold the parents' hands and explain everything that's happening on the resuscitation cot. It's actually on of the hardest jobs in the room, I think. While the doctors and midwives work on the intricate physical task they've done over and over. I chose a harder role, a role often neglected. You're scared to give too much hope, in case the baby doesn't make it, you're also scared to give too much detail, as you don't want to stress them out unnecessarily. They look at you like you're delivering the most important message they've ever heard, a translater for the nightmare they're watching unfold. But I'll take it on for them, because the fear they're feeling is nothing I can imagine. Because I get to go home, and let it all melt away on the pottery wheel. On days like that I tend to start out with tiny pieces. In my class, my classmates would laugh at me for making dollhouse teasets. Tiny thumb-print sized teapots, cups and saucers. Because smaller pieces of clay are easy, creating them makes me feel in control. Because the larger pieces are too much to take on on days like those. They're definitely not as impressive and glamorous as the big elaborate pots we conjure up when we think of pottery, but once intricately painted, glazed and signed with a tiny intial, I feel so proud of the little piece of beauty I've made. D They are little souvenirs of the hardships I faced that day. A reminder of an inner strength I have that's not physical. And despite the laughs from my classmates, everyone coos at my lovely little teapots.
By Ellen Brady5 years ago in Journal
Nico Cathcart
Nico Cathcart has been an artist practically since birth. From the time her fingers could grip the ferrule of a paintbrush and guide it along a flat surface, Nico was painting. In those very early years she worked in water colors and gouache on rolls of brown packing paper, fabricating homages to Van Gogh. When she became a teenager, Nico discovered oils, and a teacher of hers who saw her talent and obsession with the painted word gave her a book that would move her toward what she has become—a gallery artist and one of Richmond’s leading muralists. It was an art book, and still sits on a coffee table in her home. It’s about one of the grandest murals ever painted—the Sistine Chapel.
By Charles McGuigan5 years ago in Journal
Is art meant to be beautiful? Or utilitarian? Or both?
Some works, such as those that come mainly from the field of design, are there for us to use and "apply", while others, like a painting of Rembrandt, is there to be experienced, admired and loved. In essence, this would be the main difference between fine art and applied art, two major categories of the arts in general.
By Lindsay Eichorn5 years ago in Journal
I am Loonatania
I am Loonatania I always wanted to entertain the world with my stories and talents. Since I was a little girl, I loved to make people smile and it would make me feel good inside. Like spark's coming out of people's eyes to give them every reason to laugh and live a good life. Growing up, I had a dark side of my childhood that wasn't always pleasant behind closed doors. To remove that horrible things I saw in domestic violence, I would look at old classic cartoons of Looney Tunes, Popeye, Betty Boop, old black and white classics, Disney films Bambi, Dumbo, Pete's Dragon, Mickey Mouse. I loved Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Space Jam, Jurassic Park, Twister and Annie and I loved the magic behind it and it fascinated me. I would mimic the characters voices and act out with my toys. I loved the most was how they had live action and cartoons blend together and it's silly. I used to believe it was real, but only to realize that I was disappointed to find out they weren't real. One day what really caught my eyes was when I decided to watch the credits from Bambi and then I saw something on the VHS, I never saw before. It was behind the scenes in the making of Bambi. I was in awe how they put the pieces together and I thought it was beautiful. Learning about Walt Disney's company and watching them paint Bambi and the landscapes. They would use actual Deers to sketch on their movement and how it would work during the film just like they did for Lion King and other projects. After that every VHS that had special features I wanted to learn more about animation. I also later watched how the Twister film was made, oh man, that was amazing. CGI on the Twister was beautifully done. Roger Rabbit really fascinated me the most. I also learned how people would provide voices for cartoon characters and I love it.
By Tausha Henry5 years ago in Journal
Creative ideas to make photo calendars for your workstation
How many times have you found yourself missing important dates or forgetting tasks? In today's hectic schedule, it's hard to keep track of everything. A photo calendar, however, is the best way to stay up-to-date.
By campbelljoef5 years ago in Journal
Writing Through the Bad Spots
I stare at the screen and wish I could conjure something from nothing. The particles would coalesce in the air, swirling and entwining, as they accumulated into a book that dropped into my lap. (Is there a Harry Potter spell for that?)
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Journal
An American Painter
For a long time, Miyoko Ito was essentially obscure outside of Chicago. She painted theoretical works with hints of Surrealism and Cubism during the 1960s and 70s. At that point, New York was accepting Pop Art, and a significant number of Ito's counterparts in Chicago had joined together under the insurance of the Hyde Park Art Center. Ito stood somewhat separated from these different developments, rather making her own visual language with deviation and reminiscent structures.
By Nancy Baker5 years ago in Journal
One Man's Trash is Another Girl's Hobby
The morning glow that shines through my window. The sound that echoes in the room. The alarm that wakes me. Since it doesn't have a shape of its own, one can't just say where inspiration is. I push open the curtains. The color of Mexican plum blossoms engulfs the light from the window, cutting patterns on the room's interior. From my dresser, I grab the same ordinary clothes, and head to the usual place. The kitchen table is filled with evidence of a well-lived home. Half-burned candles and half-finished plates of food sit on a cluttered table. Lunch bags open and close in rapid succession as a day's lunch is chosen and repeatedly reconsidered. Freshly pressed work uniforms are laid on the back of worn wooden chairs. Then, as abruptly as it started, everything is quiet. Mom waves goodbye for work, and siblings depart in a flurry of jammed toast and hastily finished homework. I take a sip of lukewarm coffee and unfurl a crinkled sheet of notebook paper. On it lies a rough sketch of a girl and a list of random objects. I look up at the Roman clock that hangs above the "EAT" sign on the kitchen wall. Exactly 8:02 am, it's time to make a doll.
By Mukena Addict5 years ago in Journal
I love art
Since I was a child I have been a creative individual. I think it all started because my parents traveled the world in a VW bus so my imagination was my best friend in the first couple of years on earth. I found my imagination early by looking into nature and create images in the clouds or rock formations. Then I started to color and doodle what I saw in the world and replicated them on blank paper that lead to creating cars or cities of the future on other planets. As I got older I would create stuff with my hands from sand to clay and then more technically stuff out of wood scraps. My whole life I have just been very creative and I had a need to express myself through making of stuff.
By Theartistjosko5 years ago in Journal
