Not Slow. Just Not Rushed. (May 3, 2011)

Just last week I made the radical claim that snails are cool. (See my Spring Critters piece from 4/26.)



I’m a gardener, so you might think I detest snails.

Not so.



I think they’re groovy. I like that they carry their house on their back. I’m intrigued by how much they meander to get from point A to point B. They nearly go in circles. Did they not take Geometry? Do they not know that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line? Maybe their refusal to do things the fastest, most efficient way is one reason I like them. They take the scenic route.



My son showed me a Lego snail his friend gave him recently. Yes, Lego now makes snails. You heard it here. It’s pretty cute.






Last week while searching online for snail photos, I stumbled across some fun pictures of art work by Slinkachu, a London-based graffiti artist. Slinkachu has painted and played with snail shells for his series ‘Inner City Snail – a slow-moving street art project'. The artist used non-toxic paints, and what I presume was a very narrow detail brush. But I must ask this: how do you ask a snail to stay still during his make-over? Do you paint only when he’s asleep? How do you know when he’s asleep? How do you know if he feels okay with your artistic concept? Did he crawl across the contract, leaving a dotted line of assent instead of a signature, giving his slime of approval to the project?



I must admit that my recent interest in snails includes only what I have observed about them, and I have no knowledge of why they leave the dotted trail. Is it an homage to Hansel and Gretel? Please hold while I do some research.



I’m back with snail trivia. Come on. You know you want to know this! Things I learned:



· It turns out that the goo you see behind snails actually helps them to move.
· The goo is a sticky mucous, which allows them to climb walls.
· They travel at the speed of 50 yards per hour (less slow than I would have guessed!).
· Snails reach maturity in one to two years.



One of these days I may do some snail art (not painting their actual shells but painting their likenesses). Of course, I have a long to do list these days, so this project may take a snail’s pace.

Aloha! (May 3, 2011)

After my first happy success with batik, I was excited to do more practice projects on smaller pieces of fabric before advancing to batiking actual clothing.

A few days ago I waxed and painted this image of a pineapple and was really happy with the result until I rinsed it. What I realized too late was that a lot of dye comes out of the fabric when you boil it to remove the wax, so the finished product did not have the intensity of color I thought it would. Next time I’ll use darker dye. I also will crumple the fabric more so that the wax breaks up more, leaving tiny lines of color between the waxed areas. Even if it’s not 100% how I wanted it, I still like how it turned out, and I love the new technique I’m learning.

I liked the surprises that emerged at the end. There’s always an element of unpredictability when you work with dye, which is part of the fun for me. I like the accidental drops of wax that fell on the stem of the pineapple. These imperfections make it more interesting to look at.

Why a pineapple? I’ve always liked the taste of it, but it was only a few years ago when I realized how much I like it as a symbol. I like that it signifies welcome, a positive message. But mostly I love how it looks! Pineapples are yellow, which is one of my favorite colors because it is so cheerful. The skin of the pineapple has such unusual texture, too. There is so much detail in its skin—the geometric shapes and pattern, the various colors on the outside. Even the stem fascinates me. If a pineapple’s golden oval shape is a face, the spiky green stem is its hair, a fun punk-rocker mohawk. This fruit is a lot more playful-looking than most fruits. I dig that. Maybe Hasbro should make a Mr. Pineapple Head toy.

Fiber Arts (May 3, 2011)

Did you paint your vegetables today?


I did.


Some Napa cabbage I had in the veggie drawer didn’t make it. We ate at least half of it but I forgot the other half was there and I discovered that something was growing on it. Off to the composter. But wait! Eureka! I realized that I needed to dip my toe further into the vegetable painting world. (I’d experimented with using cabbage stems and celery stalk stems as stamps before but there was more experimenting to be done.)

If you’ve ever really looked at vegetable stems, you’ve noticed the stem is packed with fun shapes. The parts closest to the stem are the densest parts, and there are twists and turns and squiggles and rosettes as the stalk becomes a leaf.


I found it fascinating how intricate the folds and twists of the stem are.





The paint shows how many parts are within the stem. I experimented with stamping the bigger parts of the stem, as well as the small parts, which created rosettes half an inch wide.

Remember your parents telling you not to play with your food? Well, this project is proof that playing with food is okay! Maybe if kids dipped a cross-section of cabbage into pasta sauce and made prints on their plate, they would be more excited about eating their vegetables. See, kids? Fiber is fun!

Wax On, Wax Off (May 3, 2011)

Who can resist a reference to 1980s films? If this one passed you by, I’m referencing Ralph Macchio’s karate instructions in Karate Kid. Poor guy. He had to wax a whole fleet of cars, all in the name of learning karate moves. Semi circle with the left hand (wax on), semi circle with the right (wax off.)

But folks, I’m really here to talk to you about batik. Even if you didn’t know what it was called, you’ve seen batik. It’s a technique of creating art using fabric, dye and hot wax. I’m fascinated by it.

If you want to learn to batik, go to:

http://www.newcastle-arts-centre.co.uk/how_to_batik_.htm.

On their site I learned a little about the history of batik:
“It is thought that the word batik has been derived from the word ‘ambatik,’ which translates as‘cloth with little dots’. It is a method of applying designs onto material...by waxing the parts that are to remain without dye…Examples of batik can be traced back over 1,500 years to Egypt and the Middle East. Samples have also been found from previous centuries in India, Japan, Turkey and China.”

For six months or more, “teach self to batik” was on my 2011 to do list. A few days ago I finally did it.

Well, if we’re being honest here (and why share your personal thoughts and experiences in a blog if you’re not going to be honest?!), there was one other attempt about a month ago. It was not what I’d call successful. Technically, I did apply hot wax to fabric, followed by a soak of dye. And technically, there is a pattern on the fabric. But the design is barely visible and it was kind of disappointing. Once I found the Newcastle tutorial, I realized that the first website I’d checked out had left out three important tips. Now armed with the essential tips, I was on to Take Two. Much more satisfying!

First I experimented by creating a large-ish paisley shape and I just had fun with it. This was on a sample piece of cotton (1 foot by 1 foot in size), to get the hang of it. Next week I’m going to batik two shirts that have been waiting in my closet for the last month. Wax is cheap and once you know what to do, it’s not hard. It’s fun and as an artist, I love learning techniques, especially ones that make my wardrobe a collection of wearable art. The removal of the wax is a little less exciting (and more tedious) than applying it, but it’s exciting to see the results.

My “wax on, wax off” reference is very timely, actually. I’m learning to batik at the same time that Ralph Macchio is competing on my favorite tv show, Dancing with the Stars. He works hard and I like that dude. (Please hold while I research something. I’m back.) Adding further to the symbolism of the connection between Ralph and batik is this: I know some Italian but didn’t know what “Macchio” meant. (It should be pronounced “MAH-key-oh” but this isn’t the first time in history that names have been butchered or mispronounced.) I knew it derived from “macchiare,” and the online dictionary I consulted says this means “to mark or stain.” Hello! Batik involves staining fabric! Is this a sign? Maybe I should batik a karate headband for Ralph as a good luck charm on the show…

Spring Critters (April 26, 2011)

Spring not only brings new flowers, it also brings new critters to the neighborhood. Although many people prefer puppies and kittens, it’s time to celebrate an animal that often goes unnoticed, or (cover the kids’ ears) even may be smashed: the slow-and-steady snail. (They really are amazing creatures. More on this in a future blog.)

There are bunnies, of course. How could we have spring without bunnies? This one happens to be made of cake and frosting. I made him to bring to an Easter egg hunt at a friend’s house. Used fruit leather for his ears and for the bunny butt butterfly.

Don’t forget the fashionable flamingo, my fave animal. He’s the well-dressed door man near my neighbor’s front stairs, and always has seasonal attire.

And call me paranoid, but I always feel like somebody’s watching me…

Spring Plants and Flowers and Colors, Oh My! (April 25, 2011)

Every morning when I shut my front door behind me, I’m setting out on an adventure in the streets near home. I’m excited to see which flowers and plants have grown or opened overnight, changing the look of the whole neighborhood, little by little. Each morning brings change in spring. Sometimes the changes seem huge, like a bare tree suddenly crowned with bright green leaves. Other times I notice subtle changes, as though I’m looking at my neighborhood through a kaleidoscope, turning it only a fraction of an inch each morning. The colors stay the same but some are bigger the next day. Certain things have changed shape since the day before. It looks familiar but different enough that you notice the change. This is the magic of spring.



(I have mixed feelings about blogging about spring. I’m sure there are about a zillion posts out there about spring, and I know that my enthusiasm for this season is not unusual. But it’s my blog and each of us does see the world a little differently. A blog is like your thumbprint. It may have similarities to everyone else’s, but it also has completely unique features. And if my handful of loyal readers doesn’t mind that I’m yapping about plants again, then yap I will!)



For months I’ve been taking photos of plants and flowers in my neighborhood. When you live in Southern California, there’s always something in bloom. While we may not be snowed in each winter, spring is noticeable here. I could put hundreds of photos of plants in this post (note to self: sort and label recent photos. Additional note to self: sort and label last year’s photos, too!) But I’ll try to pick just a few that particularly grabbed me. Spring is a fiesta of new smells, sounds (baby birds chirping, and in our case, a jack hammer next door) and colors, and I’m happy to have been invited.

Mini but Mighty (April 16, 2011)

Wonder Woman is alive and well. I would know. She lives around the corner from me.

Last month I finally met her. For years I’d wondered who owned the home where plumeria plants peek over the side gate. A gardening junkie like me, I figured, but I’d never seen her. Was she a nocturnal gardener, sprinkling fairy dust and fertilizer by the light of the moon? The mystery gripped me.

At last I glimpsed her as she pulled weeds from her front lawn one morning. I crossed the street, making a beeline for her, and introduced myself. She straightened up to maybe five feet tall (and that’s only because she was wearing red high heels), smiled, and chirped, “Hi, I’m Wanda, I love to garden and I’m ninety years old!”

We chatted for half an hour and she had the pep of someone half her age. I asked if I was tiring her out but she said her doctor wants her to get out and do things each day, that it’s how she stays young! She has lived in her house since 1956, and offered to show me her back yard, which is on a canyon that used to have cows in it before more houses were built. I followed her to the back. Who am I to refuse a 90-years-young gardening enthusiast in high heels?

Her husband built her a greenhouse fifty years ago, but a neighbor reported it to the city as being too big a structure. Their solution? Literally to cut it in half to comply with the city’s rules. The result is two smaller greenhouses in back. It’s a little funky, but as you know, I like funky better than formal. I like people, places and things that have a fun back story, so these two halves delighted me! The houses are as solid as ever, with slatted benches inside for drainage and a variety of plants, which she talks to and nurtures.

Wanda told me about owning a wedding floral service years ago, and she still knows the names of nearly all of her plants. I asked about a potted plant that looked like a kalanchoe variety, but with leaves smaller than I’ve seen before. It has tiny red flowers as its blooms, and I thought it was cute. She gave it to me but turned down my offer to bring something by to return the favor, saying she has quite a few plants already! This kalanchoe plant is like its original owner: both are small but resilient. I put Wanda’s plant with the other potted succulents I have in my yard and when I water it, I think of her. This is one of the many great things about gardening and gardeners—it’s easy to share plants because they keep growing, and the sharing brings people together.

Gardening is great for so many reasons. Unlike many of life’s projects, with gardening you quickly see the results of effort given, whether it’s through weeding, or in the growth of new leaves. Spending time outdoors with my plants always makes me feel better. I see new leaves and flowers each day. I feel good nurturing my plants, so they grow, so I nurture more, and they grow more. A happy cycle. Wanda’s gardening most likely contributes to her physical health but also to her emotional state. Researchers have found that people who interact with plants handle everyday stress and mental fatigue better than those who do not. For me, gardening really does provide a natural high. My drug of choice? Soil!

What’s Wanda’s secret to her longevity? Is it wearing red heels at age ninety, a refusal to be practical when colorful heels provide such gusto? Is it her optimism and enthusiasm? Her sense of humor? Her passion for plants? It’s everything. Wanda is an inspiration. This lady doesn’t need magic cuff bracelets to convince me. She really is Wonder Woman.