Marcel Proust wrote about French still life painter Chardin:
“We have learned from Chardin that a pear is as living as a woman, that an ordinary piece of pottery is as beautiful as a precious stone. The painter had proclaimed the divine equality of all the things before the mind that contemplates them, before the light that beautifies them.”
Proust also wrote of the artist, “Everyday life will charm you once you have absorbed Chardin’s painting for a few days like a lesson. Then, having understood the life of his painting, you will have discovered the beauty of life.”
"The Biennial International Miniature Print Exhibition (BIMPE) is held every two years in Vancouver, British Columbia. This exhibition is a showcase for small scale works measuring no more than 15cm × 10cm, and is open to images made using all printmaking techniques from traditional line etching to contemporary digital processes."
And just to save you a little work, 15 centimeters = 5.9055118 and 10 centimeters = 3.9370079. (That's the maximum image size) And, if you're like me you've been thinking about all kinds of ideas for Leftovers, and now you won't have to let them go to waste. Plus who wouldn't enjoy a nice trip to Vancouver? Deadline is May 1. Check out the website for details about paper size, registration, etc!
Cornelis Dusart, was able to capture the sheer delight of this gentlemen discovering a bit of leftover "somethingorother" in a ceramic pitcher in this seventeenth century painting.
Dusart was not only a painter, because he, like Rembrandt, was a master at etching. Check out his charming etching of two peasants practicing a little PDA (public display of affection) in this 1685 print entitled "The Peasant Couple Kissing Each Other."
Hmm, is there such a thing as a leftover kiss? How do you store them - and is there an
Alright, alright, I fudged a little. I know I said the deadline for joining Leftovers was December 30, 2009. But I really, really wanted to break seventy and we were only in the high, high, high sixties. And sometimes it takes awhile for the word to spread. And then, I did give an extra nudge or two to a few people who I thought should reconsider, and then, lo and behold, we broke the 70 mark!
Now, make no mistake about it, I am NOT, NOT, NOT extending the deadline for the submission of prints, but I just couldn't find it in my heart to refuse a printmaker the opportunity to leave a leftover legacy, youknowwhatImean?
So, say hello and welcome to a UK printmaker. She's following the blog and she is not afraid to admit it. So, if you're really curious check out our followers. It's a chance to learn so much more about your fellow printmakers and about our favorite way of making marks.
Oh, you're wondering what the (latest) final tally is? How does 73 sound?
I'm still not over that staggering number of 55% increase in food stamp applications. But something did arrive in the mail today that really cheered me up. Yup, it's our first submission of Leftovers. And they came all the way from Salt Lake City and they look wonderful! So, one of your new printmaking heroes should be Stefanie Dykes. Not only because she is an extraordinary printmaker, she was one of the first to sign up for Leftovers, the very first to turn in her prints AND she's co-founder of Saltgrass Printmakers in Salt Lake. And if it still hasn't sunk in, she's responsible for getting our work exhibited at Saltgrass this spring. Click on the link to see a photo of Stefanie and co-founder, Sandy Brunvand.
Which reminds me, we oughta get a caravan of Boize-wah folks to get on down to SLC for the opening. Whaddyathink?
I heard some very distressing news yesterday on public radio. Applications for food stamps in Idaho are up fifty five percent over last year. Fifty fivepercent!! Now, a lot of you live in other states, but I suspect that the numbers are quite consistent outside of Idaho as well. How many hungry children, infants, moms, dads, and elderly does that translate to? I've been one of the lucky ones. I get to complain about "leftovers". I even make fun of them. I've never even seen a food stamp and I mean that not to brag, but because, for one reason or another, I've had good fortune when it means putting food on my table. So I did a google image search to see what they look like.
And being a visual person, it really struck me how curious it is, particularly the sepia colored one in the image, that there are engravings of rich white men on food stamps. Who made that decision?
And then I heard another story on public radio not long after the distressing food stamp numbers. Goldman Sachs announced that last year 38,000 Goldman Sachs employees each received an average one half million dollar bonus. Am I missing something here?
Bacchus apparently seldom had to deal with leftover wine . . .
But when it came to fruit, he apparently didn't know what to do with it. Carravaggio knew it, I know it, and so do all the Baroque Art Historians out there. If you’re ever in Florence, make sure you see Caravaggio's masterpiece in the Uffizi. It will be the one with all the fruit flies swarming around it.
Some of you may have heard this story before, so forgive me.
While dining out with Kirk one night last spring, he casually mentioned that he thought he had seen a press in a dumpster at the school he was subbing at that day. (The school was doomed for demolition.)
“Wh-wha-what do you mean, a press?” I inquired incredulously.
“Well, I think it was a press, it had one of those things on it that looks like that thing on your press,” he muttered.
“What THING on WHAT press?” I urged.
“Oh . . . that turning thing . . . with the metal spokes.
“You mean the wheel, the wheel on the press, the wheel that turns the bed? You saw a press in the school dumpster and you’re just now telling me right before dark? “Waiter, waiter, can we get the check and a to go box – QUICKLY . . . ah, please?”
We ran like Roger Bannister and Jackie Joyner Kersey to the car and dashed to the dumpster for some diving. And sure enough, there was a relic of a press in the dumpster. This was a HUGE dumpster (with ladders on the side) and I still can’t figure out how someone hoisted it over the walls of the dumpster as it probably weighs over 100 pounds. Kirk stood on the grass while I pole vaulted into the one room landfill. The spokes were missing from the wheel, but I found them buried in the bottom. After expressing his surprise at my sudden agility, Kirk retrieved the press and we both took a side bar and dragged it a few steps, stopped, dragged and stopped until we made it to the car.
As you can see, she needs a little spiffing up, but she works! I’ve named her Zelda and when you use her you get to wear the Zelda apron. (Another leftover, but that’s a story for another day.)
PS. Speaking of Zelda, anybody here remember Zelda Gilroy?
Do you see it? Neither do I. This is what happens. There is no such thing as leftover pizza at my house. "And the one speck of pizza that gets left in this house, is a crumb much too small for even a mouse."
Warning: Do not even consider this as potential for a Leftovers print. Shame!
You know what I mean - one of those endless tables chock-a-block full of fruits, omelets of every denomination, American fries, hashbrowns, O'Brians, waffles, biscuits and gravy, towers of pastries, boulevards of bacon, succulent sausages - patty or links. (Had a boyfriend once who thought the waitress said patio links, and he just said yes). Then just imagine you filled your plate plum full and when you realized that your eyes were really far bigger than your stomach, the server came and asked you if they could package the rest for you to take home. Would you take it all? Or would you be selective? Or would you wish you had had room for that slice of prime rib and those gorgeous slices of mango and the fried plantains and little berry tart that you figured you would get the second time through?
So, think of Leftovers as one of those amazing Sunday Brunches. Over 70 choices to choose from. Each one yummier than the next. Think about it. It could and it will happen.
I admit it, I am a softie - and I just couldn't resist an opportunity to accept more leftovers.
So, you maybe thought you were one of sixty-nine, when all along you were meant to be one of six dozen - as in this basket of six dozen eggs that I found on google images.
"For thirty-five years now I’ve been in waste paper, and it's my love story."
The opening line from one of my favorite books of all time. A story about a Czech laborer whose job it is to compact waste paper - consisting of books, prints (as in lithographs of famous artworks) encyclopedias and whatever else the Communist era government determines is unnecessary or prohibitive. The title character rescues what he can from the heaps of papers and reads: "Because when I read, I don't really read; I pop a beautiful sentence in my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, . . ."
This is the perfect read for lovers of leftover paper! You are welcome to borrow my well worn, underlined copy of Too Loud a Solitude by author Bohumil Hrabel, but you'll probably want your own copy to underline and reread over and over again.
Yoo-hoo! I have an appointment with a gallery on Tuesday to see about hanging our Leftovers. That's not like hanging out your dirty laundry, is it? Nah! We're gonna have complete strangers coming up to us asking for our recipes!
Think good thoughts!
P.S. Can you name all the fine diners in the above photo?