Octavine Illustration

The California Sunshine and The Leaf and Vine Art Nouveau Ketubah

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 21:16:00 +0000

We've got the ocean, got the babes Got the sun, we've got the waves --Best Coast, "The Only Place"

The notion of writing on my patio in February seemed a fantasy for six years of my life. Living in Portland, Oregon, February was most dreary, dark, lonely and bone-chilling cold. One year was so particularly miserable that we had a "Heat Wave" party replete with beach balls, sand, palm trees and towels in an 750 square foot apartment with the thermostat turned to 85 degrees. We wore bikinis and swim trunks drinking fruity cocktails with paper umbrellas watching the windows fog and the sweat bead.

I now sit perched atop my hill in Marin County, California sporting a tee shirt staring at 150 year old palm trees and listening to the hummingbirds buzz not 5 feet from the milk crate on which I sit.

I write long-hand, my preference as a professional cursive-maker, unable to shackle myself to my large desktop inside; my drafting table a forgotten mess.

In Portland, February would be a most productive time. Unable to venture out, all one can do is stay warm and create.

Yet I persevere in my new sun-drenched existence. I must not allow the sun temptress to flirt with me, cajoling me to play with her.

Custom Ketubah commissions await; projects in various stages of development must be completed and sent out to their respective clients. Etsy orders need to be filled.

Thus I bring the flora and fauna of my new land to the Art Nouveau Leaf and Vine Ketubah I created recently for a wedding in Lake Tahoe. Forging a new identity in a new land.

The Ketubah -- A History and Definition

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 29 Jan 2013 23:41:00 +0000

Thirteen years ago I created a ketubah for a close friend. Knowing I knew Hebrew calligraphy and could draw, he asked me to use my artistic license and create a piece of art for their traditional Jewish wedding. Word spread and suddenly I had a new career for myself.

Never have I fully explained exactly what a ketubah is. So here it goes.

The ketubah is a marriage contract that the groom is required to give the bride spelling out the husband’s obligation to his wife. Originally, it was considered so binding that a couple whose ketubah had been lost was forbidden to live together until a new ketubah was written.

Although the ketubah is not mentioned in the Torah, the first reference to a deed associated with a Jewish marriage ceremony is the 5^th century BCE. Written in Aramaic, the spoken and written language of the period, it specified that a groom must provide his wife with “food, clothing, and necessities” and entitled him to her earnings. It protected her from arbitrary divorce and guaranteed her alimony.

In the Middle Ages it was standardized and used throughout Central and Western Europe. In 1492 after the Spanish expulsion, the Jews who resettled made slight departures from the standard text by adopting local customs.

When Israel was established, ketubah text was standardized. During the 1970’s, illuminated ketubot experienced a resurgence that has continued, not only among Jewish couples, but among others who wished to have a custom written document celebrating their marriage.

Many couples commission ketubot with traditional language using both Aramaic and English while others choose their own special vows.

Pictured is my Art Nouveau ketubah.

The Japanese Lantern Ketubah

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 24 Jan 2013 22:34:00 +0000

It's been a while... I find it difficult to summarize my life thus far. I moved into an 1889 Portland Alberta Arts District Victorian until California came calling. I am now in Marin County perched upon a hilltop . No longer residing amidst bars, coffee shops and perpetual multiplying of bespectacled hipsters, I now find myself surrounded by fruit trees and baby boomers. A different life. Creating art is the only constant. Much of my focus on Ketubah, I find refuge in creating illustrations based on Art Deco and Art Nouveau sensibilities. I find solace in the minute movements of the calligraphy pen and in the sheer concentration (followed by instant gratification or impending doom) it takes me to ink a piece of my own artwork. Without mistake. Pictured is "The Japanese Lantern Ketubah." It is the first time I inked directly onto the paint (gouache) itself rather than containing the calligraphy to a text box. It was intensely stressful as any false move could mean disaster for a completed 22" x 30" painting. I endeavored and proved successful. The wedding was an elaborate Art Deco affair held in the stunning Edison Ballroom in Manhattan. A gorgeous affair, a beautiful couple, and, I must admit, a sense of pride in accomplishing something new. Please check out my new website: Octavine Illustration

Haute Couture Steampunk Neo-Industrial Goth and The 1950s Taxi Service

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 20:48:00 +0000

Last evening I watched the Paris fashion week slideshows. The Alexander McQueen collection blew me away. Haute couture steampunk neo-industrial goth fashions graced models with oversized shiny black lips reminiscent of the piles of tires that lay scattered atop the stage. An apocalyptic post-millennial celebration of black and white, the fashions, while not wearable by the likes of most, spoke to the current sense of global economic meltdown. Spectacular.

Thus, in honor of beautiful fashion, I present "The Black and White Taxi Service" notecard sets. A hand-painted, hand screenprinted, original illustration, they are available in sets of 6 on 100% recycled paper with matching envelope. Perfect for the fashionista and available through my Etsy shop.

And packing continues despite the ever-increasing list of reasons I find not to, including setting up a new Facebook Fan Page. If you are on Facebook, you can now fan me by clicking here and receive updates on all things Octavine: amazing links, bohemian musings, sales and incredible DIY projects will be exclusively available to all fans.

Okay, the boxes are not filling themselves. Back to it...

An 1889 Victorian and The Catalog Model

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 22:24:00 +0000

The housing hunt is over. I (along with Belle, the mastiff-lab, my husband, and my new roommate, the Professor) will soon be living in the most gorgeous little 1889 Victorian.

I could not ask for more. Packing boxes and cleaning closets seem rather insignificant knowing my new residence is everything I could hope for. Surrounded by an enormous lush Oregon garden my summer afternoons shall be spent drawing in the sun and picking strawberries, kiwi, raspberries and grapes. Barbecues shall abound and Belle can run around like a wild monkey.

My anxiety assuaged, I am packing up shop. Treasures abound as chaos ensues. I found this painting recently; it had found itself behind some supplies. She is "The Catalog Model" and was based on a Louis Vuitton advertisement I found in the New York Times.

Thank you to everyone for their well-wishes during my housing crisis and thank you for the great suggestions for sports players prior to 1960. If you think of any more, let me know!~

The 1908 Chicago Cubs World Series Star Players -- Octavine Style

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 18:42:00 +0000

I recently received a commission to make a set of notecards of the 1908 Chicago World Series Star players Joe Tinker, Frank Chance and Johnny Evers. They made up the best infield combination in the Cubs history and are on the 1908 Chicago Cubs roster. Using baseball cards from the turn of the century as my inspiration, I drew the players from photographs I found and using each players' original card I copied his autograph to make my own vintage style baseball cards.

Enjoying this project and appreciating the end result, I created a series of the three Chicago Cubs players available both as screenprinted, hand-painted notecards and Moleskine journals. Immediately I had an enthusiastic response from Cubs fans throughout the country.

Thus I decided to begin an entire line of vintage sports players. However, I am not a sports fan. So I implore you all for help! I am open to all sports and players prior to 1960. If you have any ideas, leave them in the comments section. Any and all assistance will be most greatly appreciated.

In other news, I am still looking for a house. I stubbornly decided to not begin packing until I am secure in my next situation, so you can imagine my stress level. It is not real yet and I refuse to make it so until I can visualize something else. And I have an enormous amount of crap; rather unbelievable and extremely daunting. But I am looking at houses tomorrow and feel very optimistic. Fingers are crossed.

Oh, and the notecards (available as a set of six or single cards) and Moleskines journals are available in my Etsy shop. If you have any Chicago history buffs or Cubs enthusiasts in your circle feel free to pass this on!

The Art Nouveau Ketubah

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 17:53:00 +0000

Finally, after three odd years, I sifted through all my wedding photos. Despite a constant conversation with myself about why I chose to wear that particular hairstyle, I love my wedding pictures. Reminding me of joy and insanity, friends and family, the photos serve to highlight that blur of a day. I do not know if I would have remembered Uncle Stu wearing a tuxedo with a clown nose or "Redbeef" (my husband's roommate from college) donning a kelly green suit and matching top hat.

However, while photos jog the memory of a place and time, the Ketubah, or Jewish marriage contract, serves to remind the couple of the emotion felt, the feelings had.

The Art Nouveau inspired Ketubah pictured is just that. An original design painted in gouache, the stylized waves are reminiscent of the bride and groom's time in Santa Cruz, where they met many years ago. Contacting me personally to execute both the text and design, it was a joy to create. The text, Art Nouveau inspired English and Hebrew calligraphy, is their vows: promises to each other to be met over a lifetime.

Free Shipping, Crafty Wonderland, and Starving Artists

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 21:33:00 +0000

The craziness has officially arrived. Holiday madness. In honor of this, I am offering *F R E E * S H I P P I N G* through December 18 in my Etsy shop. You may find the perfect gift for your loved ones, work colleagues or yourself from Octavine Illustration.

In addition, I will also be at the amazing, incredible, utterly spectacular craft fair held only in Portland, Oregon: Crafty Wonderland. Outgrowing every space it has occupied, this year, on December 14, you will find me, along with 140 of Portland's best artists and crafters, at the Convention Center. It promises to be a rip-roaring good time replete with goodie bags, gift wrapping and the best handmade gifts out there.

The Moleskine journal pictured is a hand-painted, hand-screenprinted, original illustration by me. It is available through my Etsy shop and makes a wonderful gift for the note taker, poet, aspiring novelist, musician or artist in your life.

Back to work I go, tying ribbons and sealing envelopes, giving each and every package sent out care and love. So remember, this holiday season, *B U Y * H A N D M A D E* and feed an artist.

Play It Again, Sam. And Again. And Again.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 19:31:00 +0000

So I am in a rather esoteric debate with my husband about the nature of music. He read an article recently recalling a study stating that when one listens to a piece of music that they totally groove to, endorphins are released. However, with repetition of said tune, the endorphins subside.

Excited to relay this information to me as I always have a new favorite song that I listen to without pause until I sicken of it and move on, we discussed the matter at length during a recent road trip.

Certain songs speak to me. I want to own them. This can only happen through perpetual play. I cannot help this habit. If I like something, and I have the power to bring joy into my little world, how can I resist?

So here's my argument against this so called "scientific study." Because I listen to songs repetitively yet finitely, those particular songs become a part of my living history. They denote a place in time, a feeling, a person, a series of events that occurred during the time in which a particular song served as soundtrack.

Despite my decrease in endorphins leading to a song's eventual discontinuation, the endorphins increase exponentially when hearing this song much later as the memory it brings back is vivid and sentimental.

This is why I disagree with him and will continue to listen to songs on repeat. Currently it is Furr, by Blitzen Trapper (a Portland band!). I saw them in concert last night at the Wonder Ballroom. I love it. The soundtrack of my life. Right. Now.

If You're Feeling Sinister--Traveling Part II

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 00:32:00 +0000

We left London, but not before dancing on stage for the encore of my favorite band (Belle and Sebastian) singing my favorite album in it's entirety (If You're Feeling Sinister). The concert was covered in the London Times; my stage dancing captured eternal.

Finding cheap a fare to Paris and with a free place to crash, the City of Lights was magnificent. Whilst trekking the tourist circuit, we found a Moroccan travel agency specializing in charter flights. Our first destination, Essoueira, a Moroccan beach town made famous by Jimi Hendrix's "Castles Made of Sand" (there is indeed an ancient castle on the beach, made of sand and completely crumbling) was a labyrinth of artisan stalls and fish markets. To Marrakesh and Fez we sojourned, riding buses and donkey cabs (click here to read diary entries and see pictures).

Renting a car for a week to tour the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara Desert is not recommended; a guide or group is advised as our destination was just a few kilometers from the Algerian border. But we did not know that. Although there were close calls (it is considered a given to be lost as many Moroccans change the road signs in order to direct you to their towns), we spent an incredible night under the stars atop a dune in the middle of the Sahara (the sandstorm and the camel stench could not spoil it). Never have I seen so many stars.

We walked across the border to Spain ending up in Sevilla where we found a flight back to London and a plane ticket home.

London Calling: Part I

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 21:24:00 +0000

My honeymoon was fabulous. I mean truly wonderful. As rough and ready world travelers, we sought the exotic. We knew we had the chops; we met as travelers in the mountains of northern Israel (our first "date" was two weeks in northern Egypt along the waters of the Red Sea). Little did I know we would traipse through Paris, see the Southern Cross descend upon a Saharan night sky and dance on stage in London with my favorite band.

We have camped in the Pyrenees, bartered in the markets of Istanbul, walked the walls of Dubrovnik, partied in Barcelona, explored the castles of Prague, the churches of Italy and the pubs of London, but nothing quite prepared us for the honeymoon.

We never plan. Anything. Even plane tickets. This unnerves most, but we find it exhilarating. There are no hotel reservations, no itineraries, no way home. Adventure on the fly, we call it.

First, we went to London. You can do anything, go anywhere from London. I have always managed to find some sort of last minute deal to London. For very cheap. We stay in the same Bayswater hotel each time and do nothing but walk. I have an extensive collection of London walking tours and historic pub guides. As we walk we look for travel agencies buying tickets to wherever is most inexpensive, interesting or a free place to crash.

So we went to Paris. (To be continued......)

A Garden of Shoes and The 1960s Psychadelic Mod Fashion Plate

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 18:38:00 +0000

I keep everything. I have broken dishes, an entire couture collection of single shoes, (Belle, my mastiff-laborador, having chewed the other mate--most recently a pair of handmade snakeskin Italian leather pumps that I picked up at a thrift shop in London years ago. Alas.) almost every single piece of correspondence that I have ever received, and boxes upon boxes of clothing.

I have it in my head that someday I will create some sort of art from my history. Most likely these treasures will remain in my attic, sit in my basement and wait to be moved to their next domicile.

My imagination can actually see the beauty I could create. The broken dishes to be made into a Gaudi style backyard bench, the clothing resewn into gorgeous new frocks, and all those poor single shoes? I once saw a famous garden where old purses were bronzed and placed about. I liked the way it looked. Could definitely do the same with the shoes. Especially my old cowboy boots.

This week I went through my art studio looking for inspiration. I always joke that my workshop looks as if it was hit by a natural disaster. People don't quite believe that until they see it. It's quite amazing, actually. Utter chaos. I love it.

So I am sifting through boxes and drawers and find a linoleum block/woodcutting kit bought about ten years prior. Thought I would give it a go. I found that I truly enjoyed carving the blocks with my various Art Deco inspired images, retro fashion plates and an Art Nouveau inspired nature scene as well. And I enjoyed the printing itself. A new found medium.

Pictured is my 1960s Mod Psychadelic Fashion Plate. A limited edition, signed and numbered linocut print, she is available in my Etsy shop.

I Love New York and All That Jazz

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 17:54:00 +0000

As a child I spent the summers in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn visiting my grandmother. In her one bedroom apartment, walking distance from Coney Island, my sister, my grandmother and I would bunk together in the living room. Almost the last stop on the F train, the dishes would rattle and the seventeenth floor shimmy as the nearby subway traveled the one and a half hour distance to and from Manhattan.

New York was the most different place from New Mexico I could conceive of as a child (as an adult as well). But I loved it. Sojourning into the city each day, my father would act as tour guide (as a relocated Bronx boy he claimed ultimate authority on everything New York). Worrying my sister and I would wander off, my dad made us memorize the entire F train route and study city maps.

Thus, I can navigate New York pretty well for a western girl reared on the Rio Grande. Recently vacationing there, I felt at home despite many years absence. A movie I saw in college came to mind. The Cruise, a black and white documentary, celebrated both the city itself as well as a quintessentially New York Gray Line Tour bus guide. In one scene, the guide, with an encyclopedic knowledge of New York culture, recalls literary giants, artists, politicos, criminals and silent movie stars as the bus whirs past their former residences. So much spark within such a small space. The energy is real; the buzz almost tangible.

I love New York. Therefore, you may imagine my excitement at a mention by the New York Public Library in an article entitled "All That Jazz". So thank you New York from a most grateful gal out west.

The Art Nouveau Wedding Invitation & An Appreciation for the Handmade

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 22:46:00 +0000

I love to write. As in cursive. Or calligraphy. Maybe even a nice block alphabet. In eighth grade my Social Studies teacher, Mrs. McIntyre (who, by the way, wore a bouffant), had a post of the signatures on the Declaration of Independence. I would spend class period upon class period perfecting my proverbial John Hancock.

When I got to college, I would laboriously recopy notes as to both allow the knowledge to sink in and to practice my penmanship. Thus studying became a process to be somewhat enjoyed (and my notes became a much sought after commodity).

Now I create wedding invitations, many in an Art Nouveau or Art Deco style. Each and every letter I forged by hand from my own stylized Art Nouveau alphabet. Much to the chagrin of graphic design buddies, I do not draw my alphabets on the computer nor do I scan them in. Rather each letter is unique unto itself, an organic creation based on the letters both before and after and with special attention to the layout of the whole; an entirely holistic creation rather than a series of computer generated text.

Plus, I enjoy creating fonts (especially those from the Art Nouveau and Art Deco periods. Please see the matching RSVP card for this invitation!). Although my labor would be cut down exponentially by using a computer for text, my enjoyment level would proportionally decrease. Many tell me that only I can tell if an alphabet is created entirely by hand, but I beg to differ. Although the average person may not be able to discern hand-wrought lettering, there is a human, organic, emotionally charged feeling emanating from only that which is handmade.

The Constant Hustle

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 20:59:00 +0000

My daily life can best be expressed as a constant hustle. Either creating or promoting, I seek to find a niche for myself. However, I find that what interests most is the personal: anecdotes that tell of a self-styled bohemian existence. In celebration of this, and in gratitude to Hadley and Tangobaby, here's a bit more....

1. I live in Portland, Oregon. Today is a particularly Portland day: grey, dark and rainy, but lusciously green, perpetually forested. I love it here. The rain is most romantic--like strolling through an Impressionist painting. It is on these dreary days I am creatively prone and rather productive.

2. I love to go to old cemeteries. In Oregon there are random Pioneer cemeteries throughout both the cities and countrysides and I find nothing more relaxing than walking through the decaying stones, each telling a history all its own.

3. I spent my honeymoon in Paris, London and traveling through Morocco. Looking through the pictures this morning provoked a yearning for adventure to the exotic. Backpacking through cities and ruins, I want to explore places unknown and wander through cultures foreign.

4. I do not drive. I walk or take the bus. This affords me the opportunity to create specific routines on my outings. Each and every day I pass by a handmade sign nailed to a street lamp. Its painted words read, "Loafe in the grass with me." No matter my mood, I smile and give a wink to Walt and a nod to Portland.

5. I love buffets. I like to have an unlimited amount of exactly what I want. Rather telling, I must say.

6. I love Masterpiece Theatre on PBS. But I am unhappy with their new format. I don't really need to hear Allan Cummings or Gillian Anderson wax historical. Plus, a modernized theme song? Please. And the new Mystery format also sucks; only snippets of Edward Gorey's drawings and the original music remain. A travesty indeed.

7. I need to get out more. I am comfortable to remain in my house, putter around my studio and only go to the dog park for socialization. Maybe a concert this week. Or a dinner party. We'll see.

A Hat and Gloves at the Supermarket

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 20:19:00 +0000

Everyone has two outfits: the one they see themselves in and the one others see. In my mind's eye, I am in evening gloves and a ball gown; my hair swept up to perfection, each curl in place. My makeup impeccable, I float through the air on exquisite four inch heels. This is how I see myself. In reality, my New Mexico roots show through as each and every day I don a pair of jeans, a white tank top and cowboy boots. This is the oufit others see me in.

I hearken to the day when ladies wore hats and gloves to the supermarket; when weekly salon appointments were the norm. Yet, I know that practically speaking, I am averse to such nuisances as manicures (I perpetually have paint and/or ink on my fingers and under my nails anyway) and labor intensive hair-dos (my curly hair seems to have a mind of its own).

Both my grandmothers dressed up when they went out. Neither would have been caught dead wearing the paint spattered college sweatshirt, ripped jeans and mud covered tennis shoes that I wore this morning to the coffee shop. No matter, for while others see an outfit sure to be called out by the fashion police, I see myself in a red, full length Valentino gown with heels to match.

A Grand Wedding and The Art Deco Ketubah--A Modern Jewish Marriage Contract

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 18:50:00 +0000

The Ketubah, a Jewish marriage contract outlining a couple's commitment to one another, is an honor to create. Given pictures of the groom's grandparents 1940s Art Deco style Ketubah, photos of grand interiors, and cutouts from magazines, I set to work designing a hip, modern take on the Art Deco Ketubah.

Working with the bride to create an homage to her beloved's family yet incorporate the couple's own aesthetic, I set to work painting in gouache the image of the tree and birds as well executing my own unique English and Hebrew alphabets in calligraphy.

The bride sent me the pictures following the wedding. Held at the Ruins in Seattle, it was most certainly an affair to be remembered. My jaw literally dropped; she was so beautiful and the wedding a spectacular gala event, reminiscent of a scene from The Great Gatsby or maybe Grand Hotel. I felt like a movie star myself to be in some way part of such a lovely Art Deco inspired scene.

Women Making History and the Self-Styled Edwardian Broadside Painter

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 22:57:00 +0000

I am interested in politics. I like to participate in my democracy. However, sometimes politics is not top priority as life takes hold. Yet the past two weeks here in Portland, Oregon and throughout the United States illustrate how life and politics are inexorably linked.

Two years ago this month I participated in a mural project created and executed by my friend, colleague and personal hero, Robin Corbo. Painted on the side of a carpeting warehouse on busy Interstate Boulevard in Portland, Oregon, the mural serves to represent various Portland communities and celebrates the women who went above and beyond to help further equality within their respective neighborhoods, ethnic groups or human rights organizations.

Perched atop a three story scaffold at times, (a truly terrifying experience which I failed to really get used to) I spent two weeks creating the alphabet, designing the layout and painting the lettering below each portrait. Located next to a century old train yard and working solo without music, I listened to the rumble of the locomotives, the oncoming traffic and the streetcar line. Feeling like an Edwardian broadside painter I enjoyed the industrial feel of my environs.

I think about this mural when I listen to the speeches made by Sarah Palin. Each of the women pictured in the mural fought to further the rights of women everywhere and now a woman stands to threaten those painstaking accomplishments.

I think Eve Ensler and Tina Fey/Amy Poeler explain the situation best for while I think it vital for women to continue to make history I certainly do not want to see it rolled back.

The Dresden Dolls, Steampunk, Octavine Illustration and an Apology

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 18:33:00 +0000

Created from the gears of industry, Steampunk is an expression of a desire to return to the elegance of tea-parties, ball gowns and the glamour of a more formal, ordered existence.

Steampunk fashion celebrates industrial beauty as pocket watch mechanisms and typewriter keys find new meaning in jewelry, adornment or collage. It is in direct opposition to the mass-produced, made in China, sleek minimalist look of the Millennium.

The Dresden Dolls, a Steampunk cabaret duo, embody this new fashion phenomenon. Their large, loyal fanbase seeks to portray this neo-Victorian aesthetic through Dresden Dolls inspired paraphernalia.

By returning to handmade, artisan crafted merchandise, the Dresden Dolls’ new website, Post-War Trade, seeks to provide hand-wrought items commissioned specifically for their fans.

Contacted personally by the Dresden Dolls with a vision for a notecard based around lead singer Amanda Palmer, I sought to create an aesthetic of old Hollywood glamour. With Dresden Dolls song lyrics and my own image of Amanda Palmer, these notecards are designed, hand-screenprinted and hand-painted by yours truly and can be purchased directly through the Post-War Trade website.

In other news, please accept my apology for my long absence. Vacation and weddings ruled the month of August leaving me little time for blogging.

I was however, featured in a wonderful eco-blog, The Organic Mechanic, with a lovely interview all about me and my art along with many ecologically minded details.

In addition, my "Career Gal" painting was featured on a major London travel site, The Londonist. And, of course, when not dancing at weddings or at a reunion, the was month spent working my little fingers to the bone creating Art Deco wedding invitations, an Art Nouveau inspired Ketubah as well as a couple new Moleskine and notecard images such as "London Mod." I hope to get everything posted soon. And I promise I will not be gone for so long again. I missed you all terribly.

Permanence and Transience: Cooking vs. Art

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 18:36:00 +0000

My mother is an excellent cook. She can make just about anything from Moroccan tagine to traditional pot roast. And she can cook for the masses, catering my entire wedding, my cousin's wedding and both mine and my sis's Bat Mitzvahs. Absolutely none of this talent was passed on to me. Or maybe it was but never fully realized as I hate to cook.

I like the idea of pleasing my friends, exacting their love and admiration through gastronomy; but I loathe the notion of spending time creating these pleasures. Food is temporary. Hours spent, adding a pinch of this, a spoonful of that, seem wasted on transience.

Please do not get me wrong. I love cooks. I love food. I love home cooking. I am fortunate to reap the benefits of those whose creativity is ignited by food, whom are impassioned by the combination of spices, the grouping of flavors.

My art, however, is born out of a yearning for permanence. I screen print my images so they will last for centuries to come rather than using a computer to lifelessly copy my work. I hand-paint my cards so they are kept; records of a time and place serving as personal histories. The notion that what I create may last lifetimes excites me and serves to motivate.

But a good meal is remembered. I will never forget the calamari in Turkey or the steak in Belgium or my mother's homemade grapeleaves. And that recollection I pass on to others, as I do now. Thus cooking is not momentary, rather the memory intangible.

Thus I present Bouillon Kub (my homage, painted in gouache on wood, to the original bouillon cube packaging in France circa 1920 and, from what I understand, still used today) to all the amazing cooks out there. May your food be forever remembered.

The Golden Bow

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 23:28:00 +0000

Next week is my birthday and I want a new dress. This dress to be specific.

Last year my sis and I had a party (we are born on the same day but are not twins). Leo Bash it is called and it is a most raucous party replete with multiple DJs, a kissing booth with Branson the dog, a trampoline and a wild dance floor.

Upon arrival to the festivities, I broke out into tears (and yes, I am a grown woman) because my sis had a new birthday dress and I did not. And yes, actual tears came. My sis was stupefied and rather embarassed, not sure what was wrong with me. I recovered quickly, but my disappointment was real. Silly, I know.

When my sis and I were little my mother would always buy us new dresses; the same style but in a different color. I can remember each birthday most vividly not by the presents received nor the party had, but by the dress worn. Fashion has always dictated my ability to recall events. I can picture the past perfectly if I know what outfit I donned at the time. I suppose this is what creates packrat mentality. How can I get rid of a shirt I can remember going to the best concert of my life in? Or a skirt bought traveling in Turkey? Thus, each fashion memory is cataloged according to style, trend and color and eventually filed away, in the attic.

So each season I go shopping. To the attic I go retrieving old fashions and reliving musty memories. I always come away with something gorgeous, a lovely frock exiled for no discernible reason, that carries a little piece of history and now has the opportunity to create more.

My Art Deco Wedding

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 19:42:00 +0000

I have weddings on the brain. Working on marriage contracts (Ketubah) as well as various Art Deco inspired wedding invitations invokes visions of my own 1930s style wedding.

Executing my own Art Deco style invitations by hand influenced by a perfume bottle ca. 1925, I sought to create a unique invitation based on an Art Deco aesthetic.

Held at the Albuquerque Press Club, a rambling log mansion built in the 1880s by the architect of the Santa Fe Railroad, it stands in the middle of the city on a hill, minutes from downtown Albuquerque and my childhood home. An urban architectural gem, hidden from the freeway and old Route 66 by centuries old elm trees, it now serves as the local watering-hole for members of the press.

Both my dress and my shoes were ca. 1930. A simple sheath with a goddess neckline and a long lace panelled train, my gown took little in the way of preparation.

My betrothed wore a tuxedo from a Fifth Avenue tailor dated 1925. With tails, a separate collar for a shirt that buttoned down the back, two sets of cuff-links as well as two-part vest and high waisted silk-stripe pants, his ensemble was terribly complicated and took two people to dress him. He told me he felt like a monkey on show, and I told him to just deal, he would never have to do this again. After all, we were creating a scene, a mood, a time of old romance and sophistication.

With over 300 people, total chaos ensued. With rooms off of rooms off of rooms and stairways that led nowhere, hidden patios and terraces, the Press Club that night had the quality of a debaucherous wild Old West saloon with people dancing, singing and creating a night of revelry not to soon be forgotten.

Just Waiting

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 21:18:00 +0000

Much of my time spent as an artist is in waiting. Waiting for the next show, waiting for the customer to call back, waiting for the paint to dry. Just Waiting. And while waiting, beginning other projects that will soon, in turn, be waiting themselves. If patience be a virtue, right now I have virtue in spades.

Currently I have three projects in wait. Two Art Nouveau inspired marriage contracts and an Art Deco style wedding invitation. Both marriage contracts are actually Ketubah (Ketubot in the plural), Jewish legal marriage documents with both English and Hebrew calligraphy denoting the text. One is a simple black and white Art Nouveau inspired assymetrical frame with Hebrew and English written in a simple, yet elegant hand. The second is inspired by the bride's grandparents' Ketubah ca. 1940.

The wedding invitation is in an Art Deco style specifically inspired by the Oviatt Penthouse a Los Angeles Art Deco landmark reminiscent of a F. Scott Fitzgerald novel in beauty and opulence.

The waiting, however, is over for the purchase of my images on iPop magnets. Femme Fatales four pack set and the Fashion Plates four pack set as well as the large La Belle Vie single magnet are all available for retail purchase via the website.

So I sit and wait. Not a bad thing. I sit in the sunshine and work, my art in constant revolution as each project takes a turn in time to become whole.

iPop Magnets and Octavine Illustration

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 20:45:00 +0000

I am most pleased to announce the launch of my new magnet line now available from iPop, a division of Madison Park Greetings. Nine of my Art Deco inspired original images were chosen to be licensed and placed on magnets. Available at museums and fine bookstores the world over, this is my first foray into the international market on a mass scale and I am simply glowing with excitement.

They are available for both wholesale and individual orders through http://www.ipopshop.com.

Months in the making, I received the package with the magnets yesterday and proceeded to jump around the house squealing with delight only to get my dog all in a dither and some funny looks from my neighbors and passersby.

iPop magnets, my designs presented for the first time in the National Stationery Show in New York City last month, come in four packs and singles and are designed by independent artists from all over the United States.

I cannot imagine walking into a random museum or bookshop and seeing my art. I hope this will happen. In the meantime, I sit and stare at my magnets still brimming with happiness.

So Tired (Daydreaming on a Scarlet Sofa)

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 04:39:00 +0000

So titled is this painting. And so titled am I--last week spent painting many new panels; this marketing said paintings. Becoming so engrossed in my work takes an emotional toll only later realized.

My images haunt me--they appear in my dreams, not as people from ages past (haute couture in an Art Nouveau style) but splashes of color I know are mine. They vex me, sitting in wait adjacent to the bedroom (my studio and drafting table are in the "vanity room"--a small Victorian style dressing room with a built-in armoire and dressing table) not having seen the light of day.

I find it peculiar that art should thus exist virtually; a series of code rather than a tangible image when a tangible image does indeed exist. And even more odd, that the audience also be virtual--a set of avatars and comments suited to inspire progress and provide inspiration.

As one who normally eschews technology, I could not be more grateful for it right now.

I shall post each new painting over the course of the next month and will execute many more. They are all painted in gouache (a water-based paint similar to watercolor but with more pigment producing a bolder, matte tone) on Plywerk (a handcrafted wood panel made in Portland, Oregon and using environmentally sustainable practices), ready to hang and available exclusively through my Etsy shop.