This is the beginning of the giving season, and I always get way more ideas than I have time for. I want to make everyone on my gift list something really special; I want to load my studio walls and shelves with drop dead new art for people to buy to give to others. Unrealistic I tell myself. So I'll do what I often do. I'll zero in on one favorite thing and make a bunch of it. This year that favorite thing is "nature molded" chocolates. 

I don't want to give it all away, because I'm going to be publishing the how-to in the next issue of the Nature Printing Society newsletter – due out in January. You can see the molds I used in the above photo. I used REAL shells to make the molds from a nifty product called Amazing Mold Putty (it's food grade), and then followed my mother's directions for melting and pouring the chocolate. I made a bunch to put in the welcome bags at the 2013 NPS Workshop in Charleston, Oregon, last September and they were a big hit. Easy and fun to do! 

I'm embarrassed to have been away from here for so long. Lots has happened in the interim:

      got married
      spouse retired (a bigger deal than the former, since we'd been sharing a domicile for about 8 years)
      embraced the Holidays
      did some teaching
      produced and snail mailed an extra long Nature Printing Society Winter Newsletter to 300 plus members
      traveled to North Carolina in October for the annual Nature Printing Society Workshop
      assumed the reins of organizing for the 2013 annual NPS Workshop: in Charleston, Oregon, this September
      completed a 1000-piece gorgeous jigsaw puzzle in January (an annual ritual)
      printed a few octopus scarves (image to right)

Yes, you read that list correctly. My work, meaning my art output, has been last on the list and quite neglected. But I have felt creative and engaged with life, so I can't complain.

I want to report on the wonderful experience I had last month at a delightful new school, L'Etoile French Immersion School, in Portland. It is the second French immersion school that has hired me for teaching gyotaku. The French American International School found me with a Google search, this one by recommendation of the the first. I don't speak - or understand - French, so it's an interesting experience to spend a morning in these classrooms. 

The children I worked with this time, over two Friday mornings, were very young – pre-K and kindergarten. It was all fun, but working with the kindergartners, in a small, cozy classroom of only 10 students, was a peak experience for this old teacher. I followed my usual system, working at a small table with two children at a time: one printing and the other examining a clean specimen. The subject was octopus. I'll let some photos tell the tale. The photos can be viewed as a slideshow; click on any one to enlarge it.

If you think this looks like fun, get in touch with me. I go to classrooms and I can teach in my studio. I've given up on scheduling regular classes, but am available to work one-on-one or with a small group (adults and/or children) by appointment.

Here's a little more information about last weekend's NCAG Show & Sale. The judge was Craig Srebnik, a Portland resident with an international reputation. I was totally blown away and honored by his attention to my piece. It is not every day that fish prints are taken seriously!

Craig is fascinating to listen to. His art world has no boundaries: visual art and dance; music and sculpture ... in his thought and expression, they all share the same elements. The rest of my text in this blog entry is from the September 2012 North Clackamas Arts Guild Newsletter, edited by Kathy Johnson. Source of the information is Craig's website, http://csfineart.com/.

Craig Srebnik’s artwork has earned twenty-eight national awards, including three Oil Painters of America Awards of Excellence, the American Impressionist Society President’s Award and the Academic Artists Association Best of Show; has
appeared in the leading American art magazines, museum exhibitions, and galleries throughout the United States and in Europe. Currently teaching in Portland, Oregon, Srebnik has conducted art workshops at eighteen art schools and colleges. For more information, visit his website.

Judging Criteria

      • Concept • Composition • Shape • Value • Color • Edges • Brushwork or Other Technique • Paint Quality or Material Handling • Emotional, Intellectual, Spiritual                and Physical/Visceral Impact • Overall Success and Effect •

When Craig juries art competitions, he evaluates each piece based upon universal art principles. The artwork is judged against the same criteria regardless of medium, style, subject matter or who created it.

The concepts and style of each piece provide additional bases for measuring its success. For example, a realistic piece implies a framework of form and spatial relationships, and would be judged against these goals. A French Impressionist
painting would be expected to emphasize other concepts, such as the spectral effects of sunlight, a broad field of vision and a experiential perception. Without naturalistic
or realistic concerns, composition’s are usually a major criteria for abstract paintings. By composition, he is referring to the orchestration of the elements of the artwork. This avoids favoring or penalizing one style or subject matter, or evaluating
artwork against the values of a different style.

I taught school, mostly as an elementary classroom teacher, for many years. I guess it's in my blood, because nothing is more satisfying to me than helping someone learn the basics of traditional, professional level gyotaku. I've worked with all ages, from pre-school up and have found that nature printing - in particular gyotaku - is a great leveler. For a little while we're all the same age! In this case, boy, mother, and teacher.

Yesterday Miles and his mother, Sarah, joined me for a 3-hour introduction to gyotaku in my studio. The tilapia didn't behave as well as the little octopus we played with (for some reason the tilapia's scales didn't want to print as prominently as they usually do), but you can see a good time was had by all.

My week in Ocean Park was wonderful. I enjoyed every bit of it: the teaching, the showing of my work, the beach walks ... I hope it will be an annual event.

Here are a few photos that capture the spirit.

I've been working really hard to prepare for next week's show and classes in Ocean Park. Here's a preview of the show, hanging - until it's time to pack up for my Wednesday departure - in my studio.

It's tempting to call it tsunami tseaweed!

The seaweed I gathered from the derelict dock at Agate Beach dried nicely. I made numerous prints of some of it today, using a brayer and permanent ink, in what NPS members refer to as the Bob Little style.

I'll use some of the prints in my Gyotaku encaustics and others I'll sign and date and offer at my Ocean Park show.

I was in the right place at the right time last evening to view an amazing object. Sometime late Monday or early Tuesday an extreme tide at Agate Beach, Newport, Oregon, deposited this derelict dock, made mostly of cement and metal. When my friends (all members of the Nature Printing Society) and I walked the beach last evening (Wednesday, June 6) , all we knew was what had been reported: it was made in Japan, it could have come from anywhere on the Pacific, and it tested negative for radioactivity. Today's Oregonian reported that, as suspected, it is debris from last year's tsunami. Click here to read the Oregonian's report.

What we saw was amazing. Many different species of animals and seaweed covered the sides. It was fascinating to see the clear evidence of the intertidal zones, and the activity of the creatures. One of the most prevalent species was the Gooseneck Barnacle. Even though the tide was very low and the entire structure was out of the water, many of the Goosenecks had their "feelers" (actually legs) out, apparently feeding or attempting to feed. Look closely at the photo below to see that.

There are many serious issues to consider in connection with the tsunami and the multiplying tragedies that ensued.  It is far from over and there is much to mourn.

I did, however, feel privileged to be present to witness this remarkable event. Everyone, scientists as well as we "civilians," are amazed that this .... ecosystem! .... traveled across the Pacific Ocean, undetected, and arrived virtually intact, organisms apparently thriving, on this continent.  (As I said, at the time we didn't know that it came from Japan, but many of us were ready to make the assumption that was later confirmed.)

As luck would have it, I was with Heather Fortner, my friend and colleague from the Nature Printing Society, who is an expert in identifying, preparing, and printing seaweeds for her gyotaku artwork. Heather held several mini seminars as our group of four, along with many other curious folk, circled and examined the amazing structure.

After obtaining official permission from the authorities on the scene, a bit of seaweed was collected for future printing. Mine is lying out to dry for a bit on a terry cloth towel, and then I'll press it between layers of cotton fabric (paper sticks) until it is firm and dry enough to work with.

Postscript, 6:05 p.m. : I have turned on the local news just in time to see the folks from the Department of Fish and Game scraping and blowtorching the dock to remove all the organisms, which could very likely include invasive species. They're burying all the organic debris deep in the sand above the high tide/storm surge line. No decision yet what to do with the dock itself.

It really feels good to have a strong purpose for creating more pieces! The Ocean Park event isn't until the latter half of July, but it will be here before I know it.

Today I grabbed a few hours to make another 8" round Gyotaku encaustic. I want to do another, but need to wait 24 hours for some glue to dry on the substrate. I hate having to wait for something like that, but it would be worse to see a piece come apart because I was hasty!

This was a little rockfish I caught last spring on my trip to Ketchikan. It "lives" in my freezer and comes out to play from time to time.

It's always hard to know when to stop, but this feels right.