“the tattoo that Gus never got”

Sketch request #5:

“I have a friend, Gus X, who, in college, would start up conversations with chicks at parties about the tattoo they would get if they got a tattoo. He got lots of stories about things sentimental to them that they would want to adorn them for life. “A heart with my dog Barney’s name in it on my ankle,” “The scales of justice on my wrist to remind me to always take a balanced approached to everything I do. . . ” etc. When they were done telling of their ideal tattoo, they would inevitably ask what tattoo he would get. He would look them in the eye and say, “I would get a bald eagle across my chest, carrying a dead pig in its left talon.” He would hold eye contact for another couple of seconds, then would turn and walk off ending the conversation.

To the extent it helps with the vibe of the thing, Gus had curly blonde hair cut in a mullet. He got his degree in Turf Management at Kansas State University after 11 years in college (not kidding) and now runs the greens of a fancy golf course in Arizona. He has no tattoos and no eagles.

I would like a drawing of the tattoo that Gus X never got.” Shari

Gus, as I imagine him 🙂
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Two Minute Doodles

When I say I’m scared of drawing, people either think I’m joking or fishing for compliments, but the truth is I haven’t really felt comfortable drawing ever since my first formal lesson at the age of ten. Until then, it had always been something I’d practiced instinctively, without too much thought.  In fact, it was a way for me to get a thought out of my head and into the open, where I could see it.  Sort of like thinking out loud, only with a crayon or stick. Mark making was just another form of communication to me, using all kinds of tools and symbols

My teacher (a very stern elderly nun) would make us sit for hours copying etchings from dusty old art books. This kind of “Drawing” felt neither instinctive nor natural. Suddenly, Drawing (with a capital D) meant staring at the tortured or rapturous faces of deities, disciples, gladiators and martyrs. I came to think of it as a very serious and important business, for very serious and important people; people with very important-sounding names like Rembrandt, Michael Angelo, Caravaggio, and Leonardo da Vinci. In my ten-year-old mind there wasn’t much hope for a Sally.  I became very disheartened. “Drawing” wasn’t at all what I’d thought it to be, and I decided that it was probably best left to professionals.


Fast forward several lifetimes later and I am STILL struggling to overcome this ridiculous blockage! In an attempt to loosen up and rewire my brain, I’ve started taking random requests. I give myself between 2 to 5 minutes and sketch on the spot, without time to over-think it. I find it helps to draw on lined or scrap paper as white “drawing paper” gives me stage fright!  The first marks are always a bit hesitant, but then I tell myself that I’m not creating Art, just making marks to convey a message. writing with pictures

The very first request was: “a family of cows around a table, eating a human“!! We were sitting in a bistro at the time. Our meals arrived before I could draw more than one cow, so I compromised by hanging a family portrait in the background. It was meant to be funny but it’s actually a pretty gruesome image. No more disturbing, I suppose, than a human slicing into a dead cow, but still …. it definitely made me think a bit. Later, I used photoshop to remove the background and create a more “finished” image. 

“a family of cows around a table, eating a human” Matt M

….  and so on.

I now have a waiting list of requests that I’m terrified of tackling, but every time I push through the fear I find the process incredibly liberating and, most importantly, FUN!

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My rather childish response to the demolition of 51 beautiful, healthy native trees in the valley behind my house

A student using my scissors to cut the chain the chain they’re attached to


First, I spent time with an object that meant something to me, observing, sketching, thinking, exploring, making notes, taking photos, using free association to unlock ideas. The object I chose was the necklace that I’ve worn around my neck for the last 10 years.  On the chain is a little gold pair of scissors. The idea was to study this necklace and transform it, create a work of art inspired by it, using any medium.  Once I’d finished the transformation, I repeated the process several times, letting each stage inform the next. To read more about the process, you can click through the gallery below.



The newspaper chains of the previous sculpture reminded me of how much we are shaped, informed and manipulated by the world, media and people around us. The headlines I cut from the paper were transformed several times, first when I read and projected my own interpretation onto them, then when I removed them from their original context, and again when I placed them alongside other cuttings to form a loose narrative. Once I’d turned them into links, they were curved and the words partially hidden so that only certain parts of the sentences could be seen, and what was seen varied depending on the position of the viewer. What was visible was transformed yet again by the personal interpretation of each of those viewers ….  The only way the headlines or sentences could be seen and read in full was after the links had been broken away from each other and laid out flat on the table or wall.

This made me realise that no matter what face we think we are showing to the world, or what we believe we are communicating, no one can ever truly know or relate to the full story. What others see is profoundly influenced by their previous experiences, personality, beliefs, abilities, cultural background, education and so on.

Sometimes, the only way to make sense of things is to separate each individual thought, idea, memory, sensation, from the rest of the background noise and lay it out in isolation. While it is true that we are the sum of all our parts, each of those parts takes on an entirely different meaning when viewed in relation to any or all of the others. Exploring one at a time has been an extremely enlightening experience for me.

From this reflection I formed the idea of using blank crossword puzzles to cover the Rubix cube, a challenge I had never been able to complete as a child, but I’d always found crosswords relatively easy and fun.

While playing with the cube I noticed that no matter how many times I shuffled the segments, the central squares always stayed in the middle. I placed a printed image of the cardboard scissors (which had come to represent my self) in the middle on all six sides, to show that no matter how much background noise or chaos surrounds us in life, we can weather all the twists and turns if we are able to stay true and stable at the core.

(click on the images below for more information)


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Things from my Things Drawer

I was inspired to make this piece while contemplating the little gold charm bracelet that I’ve worn almost every day for over 20 years. It struck me how little it would be worth to anyone but me, as the true value is in the meaning attached to each individual charm, all the memories preserved and provoked when I look at them.

Each charm has a complete, standalone story of its own, and when linked together on a single chain they become part of an even more intricate and meaningful whole.  A metaphor for life, really, as who we are is the sum of our myriad parts, all invaluable.

I have always had a “things” drawer in my kitchen, a Purgatory for random objects that don’t fit or belong anywhere else. Some are waiting to be useful again, some waiting to be repaired, some waiting for their pair to show up, and some have been in there so long that the outside world has forgotten they exist.

This things drawer has been moved from rental house to rental house over the years, and i thought it was time to explore it. Spending so long with each random piece, cleaning it, preparing its surface and gilding it, then linking them all together was quite an amazing experience. Every single seemingly insignificant castaway had a story to remind me of. Every single thing had once had purpose, played a part in my life. Remembering the tiny ways in which each object had served me over the years prompted all the surrounding memories to surface. I was able to see patterns and links and make sense of the chaos. It was just the start of a very important and ongoing process.

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