Three “Artist Dates” that cost absolutely nothing

A few weeks ago, I updated my website for the first time in over a year. Woof. I couldn’t believe it had been that long! I mean, I kept up with the obvious stuff — the WordPress and plugin updates, etc. — so the whole thing didn’t come uh-tumblin’-down, but the rest of it had pretty much stayed in stasis for a little over 57 years 365 days.

I had good reason not to be online. I’ve been nesting. I love that term because that’s exactly what it has felt like… cleaning, decorating, fixing, changing, cleaning some more. Basically doing everything a new homeowner should do, including simply just relaxing and enjoying the fact that I finally bought my own house.

Recently, though, I’ve had the itch to get back online and share some of my newer work. I’ve been busy painting over the last year and have a few things I’m happy to show from it. I have also been hoping to get back into a groove of creating and writing more regularly.

Whenever I’ve come across moments like this in my creative life, I love finding things that kick me into high gear—namely, finding other artists who inspire me or challenge me to think about new paths for my practice.

Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way is such an easy go-to in these moments. I have a dog-eared copy with highlighter all over it, notes in nearly every margin. If you’ve ever delved into this book or been friends with someone who has (because we all talk about it), you’re probably familiar with the concept of the “Artist Date.” An Artist Date is a special, intentional block of time that you spend with your creative self. It’s a solo adventure designed to inspire, refresh, and ~awaken~ your inner artist.

Think of it as a date with your creativity—just you, your imagination, and a little bit of play. It’s like creativity is the charming but shy crush you have and you’re trying to bring them out of hiding and make them realize you are a worthy muse/ friend after all.

While the idea might conjure images of pricey art galleries or fancy workshops, the truth is that Artist Dates don’t need to cost a dime. Here are three I’ve done recently that have helped bring me back around to myself, new nest and all.

1. Peruse art books and magazines at the library

The mere scent of a library book can get my juices going. Same? Next time you’re at the library, make a beeline for the art section. Browse through art books, photography collections, and even those glossy magazines dedicated to art, craft, and design. You might find yourself flipping through pages of Picasso or exploring a contemporary artist you’ve never heard of. There’s so much to discover and the randomness of what you’ll find is half the fun.

The last time I did this, I found a great book on the cultural history of kitsch and went down a long, winding rabbit hole learning about the theoretical aesthetics and social implications of show globes and paper weights and basically anything trapped in glass or acrylic. I’m not saying it went anywhere other than me wanting a paperweight for my office now, but it was fun, and I think of the art of capturing a feeling a little differently now.

2. Go to a food market

Sure the food is beautiful — fresh bizarre fruits and decadent desserts in particular—and occasionally grotesque — dead fish eyes staring back at you never fails to disappoint — but food markets/ food halls are especially good people watching. I love noticing what the vendors have on display in their stands.

I get a similar vibe when dropping by niche food stores, like grocery stores in Cleveland’s Asiatown. Unexpected package designs, new color combinations, and surprising word combinations abound.

3. Visit a graveyard

OK, hear me out.

When you’re in the right headspace (read: not grieving), a graveyard is a fascinating visual feast. The terrifying angel statues! The mysterious rolling stones! The… crypt of James Garfield?

Sure thing. At least if you’re visiting the graveyard nearest my house.

Lake View Cemetery is the final resting place of the 20th president of the ol’ US of A (and his wife, daughter, and son in law). He’s the only president buried above ground (sooo, not buried?), and the building atop his casket is simply gorgeous — a Romanesque, Gothic, and Byzantine beaut’ complete with many a mosaic and mural.

Whatever Artist Date you choose, these intentional moments are a time to look, experience, and practice going with the flow of whatever comes up to greet you. Just fingers crossed it’s not the ghost of Garfield… and whomever this terrifying thing belongs to:

Pretty in purple


Come home soon.

// || // || // || // || // || // ||

“Under the Lilacs” by Jackie Mantey // Original image info: Russell Lee, 1941, “Old brown stonehouses, Chicago.”

  • Embroidery floss on photo paper
  • Comes in white picture mat with bevel-cut core
  • 11 inches x 14 inches in mat

New watercolor works!


One watercolor painting = two cool new things 💧💧

BLUEBERRY FLAMINGO


APRICOT HONEY


CHARCOAL FOG


GRAPE SODA


PEONY ICE


CROCODILE PEACH


MINT SKY


MAGENTA RUST


BUBBLEGUM WINE


WISTERIA MINT


GREEN TEA PICNIC I & II


ROGUE BLUSH


ORCHID RAIN


PEACOCK SMOKE



May the flower crowns be with you


This guy is from Augustus Sherman’s collection of Ellis Island portraits. The photo is dated 1906. He’s listed simply as “Romanian shepherd.” 

I looked up the May Day celebrations and rituals of Romania (nearly every country’s got some), and this apotropaic one charmed me:

“The entries to the animals’ shelters are adorned with green branches. All branches are left in place until the wheat harvest when they are used in the fire which will bake the first bread from the new wheat.”

To be clear, the fire is to bake the bread. 

Definitely only the bread. 

Definitely not the sad American co-ed’s bad boyfriend dressed in a bear suit. 

Midsommar’s ending explained by Screenrant

ONLY. THE. BREAD.


Women Getting Coffee for Themselves


A new collection of art mugs has arrived straight from my brain to your lips! YUM!

  • Ceramic 11-ounce mug with black rim, handle, and inside
  • White outside printed with collage design art by meeeeee
  • Dishwasher and microwave safe
  • $20 (that includes taxes, and shipping is always free xoxo)
  •  Bottomless refills*

* (of cool, not coffee)


Al Fresco


Strong Pour


Coffee Forever


Cheer Cafe


From the Saucer


Breakfast Time


Coffee Table


Gallery opening: Journey / Explore at Fulton Street Collective


Chicago friends, come see two of my newest pieces in person, plus work from these awesome other artists!

The Fulton Street Collective group show Journey / Explore opens this Friday, December 10, from 7-10 pm.

The address is 1821 W. Hubbard St. (on Hubbard between Wolcott and Wood, and NOT on Kinzie… that’ll send you to the alley, and that’s not where the show will be though perhaps that’s a cool idea for next time??)⁠

Tickets are $5 and there’s a capacity limit (because 😷), so snag yours now!


The story of the French Angel


As the end of the year (aka gift giving season) rolls up with the top down, I thought I’d show off one of my favorite custom embroidery jobs from the archives.

***

I recently finished this custom piece for a dear friend. He wanted to gift an artwork to a friend who loved wrestling and wrestling history. He picked an image from this series of photographs by Irving Penn from 1945 and told me to have at it.

Original image info: Irving Penn, 1945, “Dorian Leigh & Maurice Tillet aka The French Angel”

The man in this photo is Maurice Tillet (1903-1954), the most notorious wrestler of the 1940s, better known by his ring name, ~THE FRENCH ANGEL~.

If you’ve been to Chicago’s International Museum of Surgical Science, you’ve probably seen a bust of The French Angel.

The plaque there tells more of this man’s story:

“He studied 14 languages, wrote poetry, and aspired to become an actor. However, his dreams were shattered when he developed acromegaly in his twenties. … This disorder is caused by an abnormal production of growth hormone usually related to a benign tumor of the pituitary gland… With his new body, Tillet, an educated man and a lover of the fine arts, felt like a monstrosity. Unable to face a life of constant gawking and humiliation, he decided to make drastic changes and use his condition to his benefit.”

At the end of his life, Maurice was a Chicago boy. He died here, too, of a heart attack that came on after he heard that his trainer died. <sobbbbbbing>

My color choices for his wings and the stars on his belt are a direct reference to the Chicago flag.

I almost put the fourth star on Maurice’s belt too, but I just had to do something about Dorian there…

The angle of her foot, the shape of that heel… oh la la, there’s just so much I love about that aspect of the original photograph. I put the last star beneath it to give Dorian her own special place in this piece.


A beam of rainbow colored embroidery floss shoots out of the palm of a hand on a black and white photograph of Isadora Duncan.

New embroidery + Isadora Duncan


On this day nearly 100 years ago (1927), Isadora Duncan died the strangest death. She was strangled in not-so-nice Nice (France). 

By her scarf.

A black and white photograph of Isadora Duncan, sitting on the ground. From her right arm extended over her bent right knee, a rainbow of embroidery floss shoots from her palm.
“Isadora Funcan” by Jackie Mantey // Original image info: Arnold Genthe, 1869-1942, “Isadora Duncan: studies.”

Duncan was a dancer, remarkable for her ability to use the body’s natural movements and desires as guides for her improvisational choreography. She is remembered for her movement-based rebuke of classical dance and its wealthy connotations at the time. Her dance was independent. Emotional. Beloved by sad corseted ladies and boho-minded men yearning to be free the world over.

Because of this dance style, scarves were kind of her thing.✌️ She usually danced barefoot, while wrapped in free-flowing gowns. 

I know this sounds kind of “so what?” in the context of today, a time in which Bonnaroo exists and you can’t walk past a modern dance performance without being thrown a curtain from the rafters to climb into and be swaddled like a baby in the cradle of the womb your subconscious still craves.

But!

At Duncan’s time, the drapery was rebellious — shocking even! Her movement style and sartorial choices were a stark contrast to the toe mashing and waist gashing of classical ballet, the bitchy bell of the dance ball for too long.

A white Oldsmobile is parked in front of a Chicago apartment building covered in green ivy.
Neighborhood baddie, summer pre-COVID
A white Oldsmobile with its back driver's side window broken out and covered in plastic and Duct tape is parked in front of a Chicago apartment building covered in green ivy.
Neighborhood bummer, summer 2021

Here’s what was not her thing: Cars. 😠  I’m being glib, but this part is actually super sad. Duncan had three children (“all out of wedlock,” Wikipedia notes… hell yeah, Izzy). We’re already off the rails here, so I’m just going to quote Wikipedia again:

“The first two [children], Deirdre Beatrice (born 1906), whose father was theatre designer Gordon Craig; and the second, Patrick Augustus (born 1910), by Paris Singer, one of the many sons of sewing machine magnate Isaac Singer, drowned in the care of their nanny in 1913 when their car went into the River Seine.

Daaaaamn…. 🙁  And then:

“In her autobiography, Duncan relates that [IN HER UNIMAGINABLE GRIEF] she begged a young Italian stranger [HELL YEAH, IZZY], the sculptor Romano Romanelli, to sleep with her because she was desperate for another child. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son on August 13, 1914, but he died shortly after birth. [WTF!]

A beam of rainbow colored embroidery floss shoots out of the palm of a hand on a black and white photograph of Isadora Duncan.
A beam of rainbow colored embroidery floss shoots out of the palm of a hand on a black and white photograph of Isadora Duncan.

One can not blame Dear Isadora, then, for ignoring the warning of her fellow passenger on that fateful joyride in 1927 to watch her damn scarf

Why not live free? Look fabulous? Die at 50 in a tragic and grotesquely bizarre way befitting a tragic and beautifully bizarre life? With a burdenous heart broken such as that… then what, pray tell my young man, is a broken neck?

The scarf caressed her as l’automobile revved faster on whatever rue de la franacaise. It slithered silky and sensual out the window, fluttered with the wind and shivered with thrilling joie de vivre. Then, spotting the car’s open-spoked wheels and, being one to fancy danger, the scarf flirted and tickled and teased and then licked the rear axle. The tire, all business of cut-throat rubber and metal grinding dirt, responded and swallowed the tongue of that scarf and consumed it in one harumphing gulp, pulling the legendary body of Isadora Duncan down with it for dessert.

A snap. A slice. An exit wound.

A goodbye, sweet world. A thanks for the dance. ✌️


Berenice Abbott black and white photo of two men in the distance walking on a bridge. Bright yellow embroidery floss emanates from each of their paths.

Best Berenice Abbott quotes in “A View of the 20th Century”


I recently subscribed to The Met on YouTube and found a trove of treasures from this institutional mainstay. Since 2020, the museum has released three to four films from the moving-image archive to celebrate its 150th anniversary. Called “From The Vaults,” the series continues through March 2022. 

Hey, when you turn 150 years old, it’s your party and you can make everyone celebrate for two years if you want to.

I’m slowly making my way through all the artifacts they’ve posted; most recently, a 1992 film about American painter Ralph Fasanella, who was known for his depictions of working-class city life and born in the Bronx on Labor Day 1914 to newly minted Italian immigrants.

​​Berenice Abbott: “A View of the 20th Century”

One of the most compelling docs I’ve watched in The Met’s series so far was another 1992 piece, this one about the photographer Berenice Abbott. I LOVE Berenice and am often drawn to her Works Progress Administration images when selecting images for my embroidery collection.

As one source in the film so succinctly put it, Berenice took, “Emotionally resonant pictures of ordinary things.” That’s as working class as it comes.

What I didn’t realize was how accomplished Berenice was in other intellectual and theoretical pursuits beyond artmaking. Here are some of my favorite quotes from this legendary artist.

"I'm not a nice girl. I'm a photographer." Berenice Abbott

“This clear-eyed, insightful documentary, directed by Martha Wheelock and Kay Weaver, offers a grand tour of Abbott’s extraordinary life, from her youth in Ohio and apprenticeship in Paris through her later groundbreaking scientific photography at MIT and final years in Maine. 

Using the artist’s memories as a lens for apprehending nearly a century of American and European cultural history, this film pays homage to Abbott’s genius for invention, her free-spirited embrace of uncertainty and experience, and her unshakeable devotion the art of photography.”

Watch Berenice Abbott: A View of the 20th Century

Best Berenice Abbott quotes

in “A View of the 20th Century”

Berenice Abbott photographing on South Street, New York, 1937. Photo by Consuelo Kanaga.

ON BEING AN ARTIST

“The only pleasure you can get from creating something is the pleasure you have in doing it. Not the final product even. The pleasure you have in doing it. And that cannot be taken away from you. And it cannot be crushed. But you had a certain kind of joy creating it. And that’s all you can expect.”

“There are many teachers who could ruin you. Before you know it you could be a pale copy of this teacher or that teacher. You have to evolve on your own.”

“I think you have to be intensely personal and be true to yourself. The subject matter that excites you is something you want to photograph. You have to convey to the person who looks at it what it was that excited you.”

"The only pleasure you can get from creating something is the pleasure you have in doing it." Berenice Abbott
Embroidered ball pit of French knots by Jackie Mantey fill the gap under a highway as cars head toward a smoke stack, photographed by Berenice Abbott.
“To the Pit” by Jackie Mantey. Embroidery floss on photo paper. // Original image info: Berenice Abbott, 1937, “Triborough Bridge, East 125th Street approach, Manhattan.”

ON ART

“If you’re trying to express people, you have to be part of it because it’s an exchange. You’re a part of that time.”

“The art is selecting what is worthwhile to take the trouble about.”

“I think it stands to reason that if you recognize and appreciate your heritage, it helps you with your future.”

Embroidered thread kites by Jackie Mantey peek out of black and white buildings, photographed by Berenice Abbott.
“Social Distancing” by Jackie Mantey. Embroidery floss on photo paper. // Original image info: Berenice Abbott, 1937, “General view from penthouse, 56 Seventh Avenue, Manhattan.”

"Art is selecting what is worthwhile to take the trouble about." Berenice Abbott

ON PHOTOGRAPHY

“Anything you photograph has to be exciting somehow visually. It has to be photographically important, visually important. Otherwise you write about it.”

“Photography is very much a prisoner of its time. You work within the framework of the technique at the time, and that’s the way you have to judge photography.”

“I think all photography is documentary or it isn’t even photography. Most photographs are documents by their very nature of the realistic image. When they try to make it a nonrealistic image, they’re imitating another medium. Selectivity is key.”

“Many interesting things aren’t photogenic at all.”

"Selectivity is key." Berenice Abbott
“It isn’t just that you think the city is beautiful. It’s that the city is very interesting. Everything in it has been built by man. It expresses people more than people themselves.” Berenice Abbott

ON CITY APPEAL

“It isn’t just that you think the city is beautiful. It’s that the city is very interesting. Everything in it has been built by man. It expresses people more than people themselves.”

“The city is full of every period, every epoch. Everything there comes out of the human gut. Everything that’s built. Every sign that’s put up. The new, the old, the beautiful, the ugly. It’s the juxtaposition of all this that is an intensely, immensely human subject. You’re photographing people when you’re photographing a city. You don’t have to have a person in it.”

"I think your work is the most important thing in your life. To spend more time with it." Berenice Abbott
"I believe in nature and truth and common sense, pursuit of knowledge." Berenice Abbott

ON BEING A WOMAN

“He said, ‘Nice girls don’t go down on the Bowery.” And I said, ‘Well, I’m not a nice girl. I’m a photographer.‘”

“My assistant got the job. A young man whom I had trained. I think the last thing the world really wants are independent women. I don’t think they like independent women much. Just why I don’t know. But I don’t care.”

“Yes, I’ve always been a loner. I’m certain that some people marry and it doesn’t spoil their independence, even women in some cases. The vast majority seems to snare the woman and she can lose track of her directions and her desires and her interests. I’ve heard so many women say, ‘Oh I would like to have done this but after all my family came first. I had to look after my sons.’ So apparently that was more important to them. To me it would be like losing yourself. I think your work is the most important thing in your life. To spend more time with it.”

"I always thought that there was nothing smarter than an old woman." Berenice Abbott
"I'm planning to live to be 102." Berenice Abbott

ON BEING

“I believe in nature and truth and common sense, pursuit of knowledge. Nothing is any good unless you sort of live up to it. Do unto others as you would have done unto you. That is very valid and can’t get you into any trouble. But you don’t need religion to have morals.”

“I always thought that there was nothing smarter than an old woman. You’ve lived so much, you’ve seen so much, in some sense you’ve been on the passive end of it, which means that you have observed plenty. But my impression was always that most ordinary women, if they’re old, have some remarkable quality that no other people have.”

Embroidered thread kite by Jackie Mantey peeks out of a black and white building, photographed by Berenice Abbott.

“I had no idea I was getting older. I’ve never worried about getting older. I don’t see why people make so much of a thing about aging. It’s so natural to age. Everything is aging all the time. Everybody’s aging constantly. Why worry? It’s slow. You’re not aware of it.You just take it in your stride. But women are so harassed with the idea because of the social attitude, the unfairness of social attitudes between the aging of men and women is so ridiculous and so dreadful that women’s years seem to be only good as long as she can procreate, but a man can be very attractive at 80.”

“I’m planning to live to be 102.” 🙂