A Breath of Fresh Air

I sold my two fine art acrylic on canvas paintings and the gallery wanted replacements.

Sold: 'Old Wooden Dock' Acrylic on canvas  ©robinrkent

Since they were hung above/below each other, I had a narrow, vertical space to fill. A tall order.

And my bandsaw is fixed.

Sold:'Away From It All' Acrylic on canvas    ©robinrkent

So I went 'shopping' in my wood shed for the right size 'canvas.' The shed decor is very eclectic. Many forms to choose from. Haven't figured what the ironing board (below) will be used for yet since I'm unfamiliar with its original purpose. 

Wood shed with sentry

I found the perfect size in the form of a garden gate that had been trimmed at the top to accommodate some special space in a previous life. Tall and narrow. And it wanted to be outside again. That was the inspiration for the subject. Many times I listen for hints of what the reclaimed have to say.

'Al Fresco Dining' wall assemblage  21x50"  ©robinrkent

Sticks were used for the overhanging tree,
wooden balls for fruit,
scrap wood leaves and robin,
two shingles make the table,
spindle splinters for chair and table legs,
plywood for dishes and napkins,
the key hole is original;
the rest is house paint.

A summer vacation would add the final touch.

Folk Art Is People's Art

I try to describe my work to others. More than likely, that doesn't work. So I pull out a business card with photographs on it (painting on one side, assemblage/sculpture on the other). That helps the conversation continue.

Take a card...

I went to an art show recently where I am usually an exhibitor. I took this year off. Being a customer felt strange. I wanted to stand in someone's booth and write up sales.

I met a folk artist there whose work I had recently discovered. She was very friendly and forthcoming with her process. Maybe we connected because we are both folk artists. We compared notes. Both of us work in mixed media with wood as the base. We're similar but different in our style.
When discussing folk art definitions, she said you know it when you see it. That's what a folk artist would say. She can join my club. It's people's art.

Folk Art Assemblage: Step One

Just when I was wondering if I should take a welding course and mix it up a little, fate in the form of a benevolent fellow with a woodlot, steps in. It is not unusual for me to be given relics from local citizenry. They know I might be able to incorporate their gifts and I appreciate the offer, but its been years since I've had such a large donation.

Folk art assemblages waiting to be uncovered

And the picture doesn't show the rest of the piles. When people ask 'how's your garden?' I think 'I grow weeds and am starting a lumber yard.' My tomato plants are feeling the pinch. The weedwacker is getting used more than the mower. I think about where to stack this for overwintering. Should I hire somebody to help. So many sides to the process before the dainty part of assembling, painting, and displaying.
Guess fate answered any questions about changing mediums. Maybe hinting for me to go large scale? 'Go big or go home' comes to mind. But wait, I am home.

Crossing the Line

Not having a broad choice of television viewing options, I'm so glad the Summer Olympics are on. It brought out memories when as a child, I had abundant energy and felt I could do anything.

'Crossing the Line' wood wall assemblage, acrylic ©robinrkent

My favorite was Track and Field. Spoken by one who now thinks a fast walk is a sprint.
How many athletes had names that described what they do. Americans Trotter, Gait(lin), Miles. The amazing star in quickness and theater was Bolt from Jamaica. Another Muhammed Ali in the making. Such bravado. Wonder what if his name had been 'Pokey.'

I loved the rivalry between the long distance runners of Ethiopia and Kenya. Beautiful to watch their fluidity of form.

Maybe my newly acquired walking habit makes me a child in the universal athletic family, too. I'm not running, however I've learned to walk again.  But oh, to show such grace while doing it.

Deeper Than It Might Seem

'Princess and the Pea' wood assemblage

©2011 robin r kent

I always wished I could be a musician     

and sing as freely as Dylan.

To perform live  - in front of strangers even - who understood perfectly. 

Doing it my way,

never having to change a note.

Guess a painter it is then.

Same initial evolutions: from puppet, pauper, pirate,

to poet. Put down on paper.

Change. Begin again. No one knowing the final creation 

- revealed for all to see -

isn't exactly as I always intended it to be.

Saws 'R Us

The now improved, freshly outfitted bandsaw,
my favorite artist tool (with art associate, Remus)
Below: Queen of Hearts, before and after

There I was on Cindi's blog www.oldblackcatboo.blogspot.com with friend and fellow artist, Sandy Mastroni www.smastroni.blogspot.com 

I never would have thought our connection, other than art, was the use of saws, shared by all three of us.

Of course, everyone knows power tools are the tie that bind women together. Just not a Kitchen Aid mixer in this case.

And only yesterday I was getting even more intimate with my bandsaw after a bearing froze. Only knew from a distance what either of those terms meant, but I know better now.

    After disassembling much of my saw, I gave up and called the tech department for assistance. Didn't want to strip the screw I was trying to loosen with all my might. The man on the other end of the line confirmed, in a husky southern drawl, that what I was doing was correct. He had to repeat this a couple of times before my ear attuned to his accent. So now I can interpret toolspeak with a southern drawl. You never know what you're going to learn next.