A few pieces from the series Decomposition; all cells break down, exploring memory and entropy.
‘Lamentation of the Late Bloomer’, Cat Lynch, watercolor and encaustic on found image, 2012
The fruits of last week’s encaustics session.
I’m getting to an age where childhood still feels fresh and vivid, but enough time has passed that the specifics have become blurred, the edges softened and stories blended. ‘Lamentations of a Late Bloomer” is part of a larger series attempting to catch hold of these specific feelings. Each found image is hidden under a layer of pattern, taken from a quilt that is also starting to grow thin from time and use.
These three pieces will actually be UP FOR SALE FOR REAL U.S. CURRENCY at the Columbus Arts Festival, next weekend, June 1,2, and 3 . Just look for them with the rest of the CAW ladies in the Big Local Art Tent. (And while you’re there, don’t forget to stop by to say ‘hi’ to Wallace)
‘Cross My Heart and Hope to Die,’ Cat Lynch, watercolor and encaustic on found image, 2012.
‘Eenie, Meenie, Minie.’ Cat Lynch, watercolor and encaustic on found image, 2012
‘Best Friends Forever,’ Cat Lynch, watercolor and encaustic on found image, 2012
Also, I’ve been playing around with the appearance/layout of my blog. Feedback welcome!
Maybe you’re like me- maybe you tried encaustic painting in school and got hooked- maybe you then graduated, moved into an older apartment sans ventilation, got a job at a nonprofit (thus eliminating the possibility of paying for an outside studio) and found yourself without a place to further explore said medium?
Well never fear! I’ve put together a handy how-to:
A note: timing is everything here. Make sure that you wait to try encaustics the weekend before your pieces are due. Bonus points if the paintings are for a group you’ve only just joined (and are eager to impress) and double bonus points if it’s unseasonably warm- you want sweatyness to be at maximum.
Step one: wake up and greet the day! Make coffee, but be sure you don’t change out of what are obviously pajamas. Also don’t wash your face or touch your hair.
Step two: Set up the griddle your grandma gave you for Christmas that has been languishing in the cabinet. Be sure to cover with foil to protect the surface. Your first instinct will be to turn it up to 300 degrees. This is unnecessary and will cause a frightening amount of smoke before you turn it down to an acceptable level (100 some degrees)
Step three: while waiting for the griddle to warm up and the wax to melt, open your kitchen door and window.This will allow any toxic fumes to vent, and will also give your neighbors a good view of your sweaty, disheveled, pajama’d self.
Step four: Speaking of neighbors, be sure to call out a friendly ‘hello’ to any neighbors that walk by without offering any explanation as to what you are doing. Use an old, loud hair dryer in place of a heat gun to further confuse them.
Step five: Be sure to leave the door and window open after you’re done, to fully air out your tiny kitchen.
Step six: Post sneak peeks of the paintings to hold blog readers until you can take well lit/edited photos at work.
(full photos coming soon!)