Dragon Mural

After 15 years of staring at this unfinished dragon on the wall of my old bedroom in my parent's house, I have finally finished the piece. My folks decided to remodel the room this year. It was still covered in glow-in-the-dark star stickers and Eric Lindros posters from my teenage efforts to entertain myself, but at last my mom decided that it was time for the little room to become a real guest room.  Down came the posters and up went new curtains and a layer of paint.  She has always wanted me to finish this dragon, though, so a block of space was saved around it for me to "do something with".  So I did something.  I don't think I'll ever be completely satisfied with any piece that I complete, but  this is what I did.

childhood dreams

It's funny to think about now, but I have this very distinct memory from when I was a kid- maybe 7 or 8- riding in the back of my parent's Oldsmobile Silhouette minivan, gazing at the billboards that were sliding across my view.

I said to whoever was driving, "That's the kind of art I want to make when I grow up- billboards! Everyone sees it and you can make an influence on soooooo many people!"

I'm pretty sure that at that point, my parents started pointing out all the different types of art I could make if I wanted to.  Glad for that.

But today, as I was hopping on the subway back home, I glanced across the tracks and saw my work on the little billboard there.  This is the day I get to check off that childhood dream.  Did it, little Megan.  This one's for you.

I never wear purple.

It was today, exactly twenty years ago. But that day almost seems insignificant when I think about the years before it or the years after it.

A century ago, when someone got sick, it wasn't unusual for them to die from the sickness, whatever it was- measles, tetanus, the cold. And relatively quickly too. Maybe a few months of illness and then POOF.  All gone.  And as terribly disrupting and traumatic as it may have been to experience the loss of that loved one, there was a bit of a difference from what we commonly experience with illness in our modern world.

In this world, we experience the big "C" all the time.  Caaaaaaancer. The terrifying word that dooms someone to prolonged suffering, but gives them winks of hope at every corner. Maybe the resilience of their body along with the doctors, the researchers a million miles away and their own will to live are going to take back their health for them and they will WIN.

But sometimes that takes a while.  Sometimes it takes months. Sometimes years.

Sometimes you win. Sometimes you don't.

You never really know how it's all gonna go down when you first hear that the battle is on.

So you fight. And fight. And fight. And pray. And fight. And rest. And fight. And get weak. And fight. And you howl and punch the wall. And fight. And lean against the wall for support. And pray. And fight. And sit down. And look up. And you don't know where to go from there.

This is the struggle I was raised on.  This is the struggle I remember today.

Learning How To Drown

One of my oldest friends, Patricia Noonan, has written a play that she has named "Learning How To Drown".  This heart-wrenching story swirls through three generations of women as they realize their different forms of autonomy from family myth while struggling with the choice to love. This play is a project Patricia has been working on for a couple years and it has been a pleasure to watch it grow and change over time.  Recently, she booked an official reading of the show in NY, complete with beautiful songs written by Amanda Jacobs, actors, a director and producer.  It's a really exciting time full of anticipation. 

She asked me if I would make a poster for the show.  I have read the show a half dozen times over the past year or so, and quickly sketched out this piece, then immediately flipped over the page because it was too simple.  Nothing is that simple.  I kept sketching, elaborating, and adding to the piece, but kept bending the paper back to sneak a peak at this sketch one more time.  I finally decided that this had to be it.

It is uncharacteristic of me to create such a simple piece and I'm glad I went through with it. It's a good reminder that sometimes less is more.

I also did this watercolor inspired by the play. 

If you're interested in hearing some of the music and seeing a video about the show, and maybe to donate toward its completion, check out her kickstarter:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1582144598/learning-how-to-drown-a-musical

sneak peak

I'm going out tonight and I don't care what my conscience says about it. I have so much freelance work to do right now that I could work for the next 20 hours straight and possibly not be done.  My brain needs breaks.  This is exhausting.

The Punk Rock Mommy poster is a design I did for my friend Jon's photography show coming up in May.  The show highlights a photography project he did with our friend Andrea who had breast cancer and passed away in 2008. She was a straight up punker her whole life, but had 6 kids and was an amazing mother to them and many other people.  Jon was allowed to be at her side, snapping photos, from the first doctor's appointment all the way up to a couple days before she died.  She wrote a blog during this time- a total of a year and a half- called PunkRockMommy.org and got a ton of press for it. Thousands of people read it daily.  Check it out if you get a chance.  Now, years later, Jon is fulfilling her wish that the blog be turned into a book.  Jon, myself, and this guy Chris have been working on it since the beginning of the year and the gallery show is promo for the book coming out.  The book is going to be beautiful- mostly designed by Chris, but with a ton of influence and guidance by Jon. The man has a vision and I'm really enjoying being a part of it.

 These two Jazz Fest posters totally shouldn't be up here for others to see. They're not completed at all. I just did them over the past couple days and sent them off to the lady who needs them yesterday. Our next steps are for her to choose colors, give me more info to put on the bottom of the posters, and then we'll tweak the designs for the next few days until we send them out hopefully on Friday to the printer. I'm just excited about them.  I like making "music art". By the way, as I type, there are three men sitting on my roof doing shape-note singing. It's beautiful and inspirational. Abstractly, I don't know why humans make music but I'm sure glad we do.

...when you only have an hour...

As I get older, I'm getting worse at remembering to get people presents for fun occasions. It's terrible and I feel like a jerk. I should make a resolution to remind myself a month before each event/holiday. And I have less money, so I make more presents, which takes more time. So when I am forgetful and then I remember that I have to make someone a present in the next HOUR... these kinds of things occur.

This was make very quickly for my friend's kid's 1st birthday.  I didn't have time to scan it, so I took this low quality phone picture.

On the flip side of things, I'm making flyers for my job now. This one is just kind of cute. I'm trying to stretch the bounds at work to see how much time I really have to design and how much time I have to dedicate to admin work.  So I didn't spend too much time on this and it's not amazing, but it's a start to hopefully at beautifully hand-drawn aesthetic.

I also make things more along these lines:

I get immensely self-conscious about my design work. I'm an almost 100% self-taught designer. I don't know tricks to making type very interesting like "real" designers do. Every day I gather reference and inspiration to copy, twist, mimic, and learn from. My "inspiration and research" folder on my desktop has thousands of images in it from poster designs to website layouts to typographical tricks to email headers to everything else you could imagine. My mantra for years has been "ugh! i just need to get better at this!" as I spend hours and hours trying different layouts.

But then today I showed one of my co-workers a design I made for her and her jaw dropped and she told me that I make magic happen.  She is usually very generous in her compliments and doesn't know how to design herself, but it made me feel competent  in my work, which helps everyone once in a while, you know?

I'll get better at this.

Out with the old

A couple weeks ago, I spent some time at my parents' house cleaning up what used to be my bedroom in order for them to create a guest room or study.  It included tossing a bunch of art that I made when I was really little, which was fun to giggle with my mom over.  I snapped a few crappy photos with my dumbphone and tossed out all but a couple pieces.  Then yesterday, I barrelled through my current studio, filling up three huge bags full of my old art that have been sitting in my closet ever since I made it.  I snapped a few more pictures and saved a few more pieces.  The pieces below are mostly of the pieces I kept. I now regret not photographing all of it before tossing the ripped bags out into the rain.  Whoops.  Well, now I have room to store more pieces that I don't really like. Hahaha  One thing I'm thinking of doing is posting these pieces on Facebook and giving them away. I don't want money. I want you to take it away from me! I haven't fully decided if I want the world to see these things.

The order in which I'm putting these pictures is... first ones are post-college, then college, then highschool, then gradeschool, and lastly possibly some of the first "art" i ever made.

POST COLLEGE ART:

This is break-up art.  Interpret as you will.  I'm way over it and never want to see this piece again.

This is a piece I drew for a group show I was in based on a nautical theme. I was surprised that I was the only person out of the 50 participants who focused on pirates.  Irate pirates at that.

I painted this for a show in 2011.  Rravens are a symbol of death because of their carnivorous ways and so when you spot a murder (group of ravens) flocking to one spot, it can  be a telling of someone's immanent doom.  I made this in my phase of studying post-apocalyptic everythings.

I made this while in a study group called the Rookery. Interpret as you will.

This is a study of a famous scientific illustration of a wolf. I drew this in my phase of studying wolves, their  behaviors, and their anatomy. Ask me about that another time.

COLLEGE ART:

I'm seeing now that my dumbphone has a really terrible camera. Sorry this is so blurry. This is a watercolor collage of all things associated with water. College assignments have really weird results sometimes.

This piece was a study in 3 things. First, we learned the rub-away technique (which is all the brown muddy parts). Rub-away is where you put a thick layer of oil paint down, then take a rag and start wiping away the paint in order to create the tones that make the picture.  Then ontop of the rub-away, we did Underpainting, which is painting sections of the piece in one color in order for that paint to peak through the Overpainting. You can see the green part of the one guy's face and the pinky forehead of the guy of the other side.  Then we studied flesh tones in oils and painted parts of the faces so that we could still see the Rub-away and Underpainting processes.
The journey is more important than the result....?

We had to dissect one of our favorite things. I chose a snickers bar. 

Dissecting another one of my favorite things was my '71 superbeatle- my first car.

Figure study. His name is Andre.

Weird pastel drawing of my friend Liam

My first interpretation of Mother Earth. I know, I know, she's probably not white. Whatever. I was 17.

This is a pastel I did for my roommates when we were parting ways. I later added a poem that I digitally placed on the truck. It goes like this:

And this, I suppose, is where it must end.

Move away, step away, like an old trend.

But I like I said yesterday with all of my heart,

I love you more than then sum of my parts.

You've been there with my playing hopscotch and all.

I fear in this new house, my spirits will fall.

So lets keep together your heart and mine

With play dates and giggles all of the time.

Don't worry, my friend, as we drive away slow.

For five houses down is not far to go.

-by Me, in like 2005 or something

This is a terrible photo of a really nice pastel piece I did vaguely based on the play Othello.

You know when you take pictures while you're staring out the window of the airplane? Well, as a 16 yr old, I thought it'd be a good idea to paint that.

This the the most meta art piece I've ever made. This is a painting of me throwing out a painting that I didn't like.

And this is the painting that I apparently never actually threw out, although I still don't like it.  hahahaha

I think this was an assignment to copy an idea from a Norman Rockwell painting, but put our own twist on it.

HIGHSCHOOL AND GRADESCHOOL AND CHILDHOOD ART:

I've often been embarrassed by this piece, which I drew on the wall of my childhood bedroom. I just think it's weird. But it's my childhood best friend, Jenny. I drew it because I wanted to work on drawing faces. Who knows why I chose to draw it on the wall.  My parents have kept it up there ever since, God bless them.

I also painted this on the wall.  My mom actually wants me to finish the piece instead of paint over it. What a funny thing- a collaborative art piece with yourself from 15 years ago.

Um.... I don't know what this is or why I made it, but my name's on the back and I have a vague memory of making it.  I flipped out when I found it. I now understand why I had very few friends as a child. What a weird kid. When I showed one of my roommates the other day, he said that there is a book cover that is similar to this. That adds to my questions, but maybe provides the hints of an answer.

I think this is my first drawing of zebras. I must have been in second grade or something.

On the back of this piece is my mom's handwriting announcing "A Great Tree!".  How supportive she was. There was a whole little series of this kind of tree drawn on the dot-matrix paper that my dad would bring home from his "Computer" job. This is the only one that said it was great. I was probably about 4 when I made it.

On the back of this one, my mom wrote "Fog".  We both laughed a lot when we found it together. How nice of her to see this as something, even fog. Oh, homeschooling...