a minor scuffle

A new small piece, only 4"x4", collage/acrylic on canvas. I like integrating paint and the photograph, to find a continuity in the textures without laboring too much. Of course this is easier in tiny works where a few scuffles of a cheap brush will produce the hoped-for effect of not quite being able to tell where the collaged element meets the paint.

pick me up

Though my blog isn't intended to be any kind of discussion of news, politics, heartbreaking or horrifying or frustrating events, or any such things, even when that means I might not post because some terrible thing that happened elsewhere (not far from here, this time) but pervades the national consciousness with its profound sadness and horror makes me feel sad and disinclined to post for a few days. That was an appallingly-constructed sentence but I can't fix it because I'm too tired right now. 

My friend gave me this blue metal toy truck, which was nice. It is giving a ride to my little red car picture.

Below is a photo of my studio tonight, a partial view, in all its mess. It is like a sitcom set, with all the activity on one side, and just the door and things on the wall on the facing side. I hadn't spent a whole day there in a while, and it cheered me up. So did going out to parties and drinking over the weekend, but today was admittedly more productive. (Unless stacking wood while hungover is productive.)

half lit

I was pleased with myself for procuring my candles early, instead of the last-minute scramble. At Candlestock (yes, in Woodstock), no less. But then I could not find my menorah anywhere. After batting around a few ideas-- drilling holes in a piece of wood? Nine oranges?-- I inverted an egg carton, covered it with foil, and pierced holes with the wooden end of a paintbrush. The first night, I omitted the foil, and turned around a moment late to see- big surprise!- the carton aflame. So while this might look like a lazy kid's craft project, it has been thoughtfully constructed. However I am not taking my eyes away this time. I will ponder what it means to be resourceful, to use what is at hand, to appreciate what we find and the possibilities within humble objects. Plus, I could have eleven nights of Hanukkah this year.

2013 calendar is here

Here are images of my calendar, 8.5"x11" spiral-bound, 12 months= 12 lovely pictures and 365 days included, some holidays noted. As I have already mentioned, I am selling them directly (please email erica@ericahauser.com to order), for $16 each. If applicable, shipping & handling $4 or 5 extra, or can arrange for local (Beacon) pickup or possible delivery. They are also for sale in Beacon at 133 Main St AND at the online shop of Clay Wood and Cotton (click link to order).

January-June

July-December

the first 31 days

the year at-a-glance

the night away

What could possibly be a suitable follow-up to the last riveting post? I finished my knitted scowl and threw some more paint on the bicycle tree (getting more in my hair). Library's doing renovation, so they nixed installing my book piece there- I'll have to book some other window. I went to the opening at the Arkell Museum in Canajoharie tonight, where my painting was in a group show. As suspected, it was a mild event, but I enjoyed walking through the museum with my mother and seeing some Winslow Homer paintings, then a stumble around the adjacent library clutching a cup of wine and a fistful of cookies. Sure enough, while walking down the street huddled under an umbrella we heard horses clip-clopping behind us, jingling their harnesses and pulling a wagon full of people wincing in the drizzle. "We can't call it a night; it's only 6:30," I declared, before gaily breaking into a chorus of "Winter Wonderland". So on the way back we stopped in Sharon Springs at the grand American Hotel and settled into a couple of cozy chairs before the fireplace, amid twinkling lights, for drinks and a bite. "Now we can call it a night," I proclaimed with a yawn, though it was only 8:30. I was looking forward to going to sleep again, as if sleep is a place I step out of and return to- and as the nights grow as long as they'll be all year, it practically is.

put together

For the "day in the life" file. Today also happens to be the birthday of my older brother, one of my favorite people in the world.
I awoke and made almond-flour pancakes with last summer's frozen blueberries. I wrapped some calendars and mailed them (they arrived last week and I've begun to sell them, either directly- sold four just walking down Main St yesterday- or from Clay Wood and Cotton- at the shop, and soon to be for sale online). I went online and ordered insulated overalls for working outside in cold weather, and fancy black party shoes. Needless to say, not to be worn together. I did not have either of these items and they suddenly seemed essential.
I inquired at the library whether they'd let me re-install my big book in their window for the holidays, since it has Christmas lights inside (creating the infinity effect) and I thought it would look nice. Waiting to hear back. I started working on my telephone booth, cleaning it up and trying to figure out the lighting situation. With more indispensable help from another friend (I would be nothing without my friends) I began to understand how it is put together "by how it comes apart". I naturally want to place it somewhere on view as soon as possible, for fun, but I do not know where.
I began to help spray-paint the bicycle tree that my friend is constructing for a Beacon holiday display, to be installed in town. I think words will not aptly describe this structure made of bolted-together bike parts- rims, tires, wheels and frames- so I will photograph it this weekend when it is lit, with strands of solar-powered lights and topped with a small twinkling disco ball. The wind blew back the paint and coated my face and hair with a light silver mist.
I made a small work (6"x8") on paper- acrylic and collage (which was both spurred by and  the reference for an earlier piece, Red Record Player (if that makes sense), for a party/fundraiser auction this weekend for Re>Think Local. And I almost finished knitting my Ambitious Cowl Project, which taught me a few new techniques. There have been no photos lately because I left my camera upstate, but we are not missing much; truly, most of the photos would be of stacks of wood, since that's largely what I've been doing recently.

arkell museum show

This Friday, December 7 from 5-7 pm is the opening for the 2012 juried art show at the Arkell Museum in Canajoharie, NY. The basic theme was 'artists with ties to New York State', so it could have been any number of my paintings, but I entered this one:

 Riviera Marquee (2010), acrylic, based on an old theater facade in Geneseo, NY.

Canajoharie is also the home of another rare dummy light, if that provides further enticement. The Arkell is a beautifully designed space, adjacent to the library, with a mix of permanent and changing exhibits including American painting and works from the Beech-Nut archives. According to their website, that evening is also the town's holiday celebration, including horse-drawn carriage rides. Since it is always very quiet when I drive through, I'd like to attend the reception if I can (though it is a couple hours north of me) and check out this festive scene. Lately, my steady wood-stacking work does not permit many day trips. Nor studio time, for that matter, but I am always looking and thinking; as my blog's profile says, I do various things, some times of year more or less of one than another.