Custom Calligraphy. What fun . What a process. Recently, a very nice client hired me to write out her own poem in calligraphy. She had seen and purchased my calligraphy before, so she knew my capabilities. I was only given final dimensions for the finished work, which came to me via the computer. There was quite a bit of writing.
There is always that element of surprise in custom work. What is told about the job and what it actually entails are often somewhat different. Once I saw the poetry, my mind started imagining about how best to go about this. Which alphabet would work the best? Not a lot of room for flourishes. The Uncial style is a good alphabet for a lot of words in a small space, with all the letters in one line. I had been given free reign on what to do, so that gives excitement, but also a sense of responsibility. Of course I want the client to be happy.
We had originally talked about black and white, but I was thinking color. Black and white often looks like merely a copy, and I wanted to show off the originality of this work. Being asked to do reproductions of this work, matted as above, I liked the idea of color to add depth to the work. Dark blue or green was her request.
I chose a very dark blue watercolor to write out the letters. Due to the very nature of watercolor, there are hues within each stroke. When I first dip my pen, it comes out dark and opaque. As I write on, the color gets lighter, then dark again as I dip my pen into my palette. I always like to leave plenty of space, so that the words stand out.
I would like to say I nailed it on the first try, but that would be a lie. I had trial and errors; changes while visualizing and actually writing; and lot of breaths before this calligrapher could lay down her pen and say. " It is complete. I am satisfied."
Here I am with a poem I wrote about my two artistic passions, ceramics and calligraphy. I was in a workshop focused on creating a new alphabet, and then using it. Yes, I know most of the historical styles, but it is fun to invent a new one occasionally.Being able to take my pen and manipulate it with each letter enabled me to create a consistent pattern, which is called an alphabet. I believe that is where many fonts used on your computer came from. A creative artist with pen and ink is playing with a purpose.
I have been combining my two skills lately, using the clay as a canvas on which to letter.Some of my previous blogs have shared this process.
There is something about the magic of letters, how they are shaped; the medium in which they are created; the ability to have others share our thoughts. I am actually writing about the art of communication, aren't I?
We want, no we need, to share our thoughts, our ideas with others. Art expands the borders of how we perceive and express our thoughts. The list of " shoulds " can go out the window. Sometimes we are able to connect with our viewer. They are willing to pay the artist to have this creation in their space, to enjoy this fresh perspective.That is a nice connection for both parties.
This is the finished creation using my alphabet named Victory. There was a focus in the workshop.We were to use our made up letters to write our own epitaph, our last words. My came out in poem form. The words are as follows:
Creating beauty
Clay moving in my hands,
ceramics emerging.
Letters written in ancient patterns -
calligraphy.
Paid to practice,
following my inner muse.
Loving many, loved by you.
Happiness.
I loved using the patterns of the black ink on the white page. Why make an opening line go straight? I like a bit of wave in my life. I guess I am assuming that those who read my epitaph are dear to me, and perhaps I to them.
It is interesting to me what we all do leave behind. Certainly my creations, both in pen and ink as well as ceramics, will long outlast the mortal me. I like it that I can invent art forms that often seem very beautiful to me and others. I makes me feel, well, happy!
My last blog was all about creating with paste paper.On the left is one of my pages. I like the filmy watercolor look it has.Here is my own version of a haiku poem about the experience.
Gliding over wet paper
Colors float in fluid paste
Slowly art emerging.
Next step: create the book.
The large sheet of paper is folded, torn into four sections with deckle edges, those lovely,ragged borders on handmade paper. Fold and score the paper, then tear it over a hard edge.The book can be horizontal, or vertical in shape, depending on the artist's vision. I chose the taller size to fit my own verse.
Essentially one paper, painted on both sides, folds and becomes four pages. There is a good reason to pick the same colors and painting style for some sense of continuity. However, expect the unexpected! I included some plain sheets and rice paper for contrast and a different writing surface.
This open page I am showing is all written in the uncial style of calligraphy.I liked its linear quality for this poem. I wrote with watercolors that echoed those of the paste paper page. I cut out windows to showcase words; added designs to decorate; things to make me smile. Finally, the sheets were sewn together into a book of sixteen pages, plus cover.
Every page is a surprise when using paste paper and poetry.
Well, I am sad that I have not been able to post my blog for a week, due to technical difficulties. This machine age is great, as long as it works! Here is my calligraphy card that seems to apply to how time sneaks every day, entitled "Ten Years Ago." The first lines reads, "Where did it go, that ten years ago?"
A decade earlier the world did not seem to be so totally run by the computer and all the machinery that seems to get a glitch in it at the most inconvenient times. Perhaps the foundation was set up, but I know I did not have to have an entire space in my house for these critical toys.
How much of each day do I now spend reading email ? How many minutes waiting on hold for the tech support in a country where their English is really hard to understand , even if they are very nice people? It feels like much of my time is spent just trying to get these time saving devices working. OK I am venting, thank you for listening.
I know we can't go back to the days where everyone wrote a nice copperplate hand to communicate. Still, the calligrapher in me would love it. The last stanza in my poem reads, "Amazement at life's passage, No regrets, well maybe some, But that ultimate question, How much yet to come?" I cannot foresee that one, but I think I would not like to spend it on hold.
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