education

my painting teacher
i took a grand total of one oil-painting class in college. My teacher, duncan just sent me a nice hello note. He left my senior year (or the one after) to go paint in the big wide world, and its great to discover that years later is still doing just that - painting, and showing work on both coasts.
After a primer on mixing paints and cleaning up, Duncan let us loose in the field. Every afternoon, students armed with folding tripods and bags of paint and palettes wandered off into campus to find inspiration in the shingles, pathways, and foliage. i had worked in greyscale (charcoal and ink) for so long, that I was surprised to find myself filling each painting with oranges and blues as soon as I got started. What did I paint? fire hydrants, building backsides, and coca cola cans. Sounds familiar.

My eye remains fixed and fascinated with these elements, but the color and the method of painting slowly change. It's a neat gift of the craft.
I love discovering what will emerge when I show up at the canvas with a little time ahead of me, and a little color in my pocket.

homemade books

book covers - paper glued on,
originally uploaded by robin kibby.

A nice by-product of showing in the Live Oak Park Fair was meeting Elaine Chu, a bookmaker and graphic designer from Berkeley. She teaches the craft to newbies and veterans, so my neighbor and I signed up for a (what's this fold called?) neat expandie origami-like book class. Over three hours, we sat at a round table, picking out papers, folding, gluing, and smoothing our work. It was a sunny saturday. While busying my hands, a side-entertainment was the yelps and laughter and foot-padding of Elaine's kids who were busy moving water from kitchen sink to backyard, in pursuit of summer fun. We talked crafts, art supplies and book publishing software (quark vs. indesign - mouseclicking vs. handmade craft). The experience was reminiscent of the crafting I have done since age 3 -- sitting around a table with family and friend, assembling, scribbing, cutting, and gluing. So fun. At afternoon's end, we had each made 2 books that tie closed with a ribbon. At home I kept opening and closing my book, absolutely satisfied with both process and product. Now I am eyeing the residual bits of museum-board saved from my last large mat cut. Future books they will be!

on industry

P1050686.JPG,
originally uploaded by robin kibby.

Been painting frantically. The subject of this entry (the industrial series) is still in the works. This is why I have I have included a picture of something completed -- part of the latest trio of overpasses.

My nails are rainbow colored from two good days in studio. It's a relief to haul out the 30 x 40's and fill them with color. I started on the industrial paintings in January, but sporadic workdays have made it difficult to gain traction. For anything larger than 4"x4", I need over 5 hour blocks of time. It helps to do several pieces at once. Makes it easier to discard mistakes, and hold onto the good stuff.
I started the industrials as part of a commission piece for an architect up north. Was thinking about the way varied building materials come together. I started out looking at agricultural industrial buildings, and ended up working from the forms in my own backyard - the varied and plentiful cement (aggregate) plants of the east bay. While sketching, I became captivated by corrugated metal, heavy steel beams, rusting metal and broken out windows. I like the residential suggestions in these massive structures.
The sketch the architect liked the most was created in my traditional mode - more poetic than intellectual. So I am exploring two approaches at the same time. I may have to abandon some initial plans in order to fill the studio walls with a cohesive set. I started by looking for unique abstractions. But, in the meantime, the completion of the latest highway stretch has affected my thinking about how a series could work together. Now I want it each piece to be obviously related by both color and content. We'll see what the 4th brings! It's another good day for work.

While waiting for corrections on an InDesign chapter, I ran across an an article on artist, Florin Ion Firimita.
A couple ideas in here that I don't wish to forget yet:

"I think that beauty is still a dirty word. I guess we owe that to the postmodernists. But I think that beauty is still out there, despite of what we make of it.

"I think we are lost in language stunts. The internal disease in some of contemporary art is the absence of compassion (in a broader sense) and a terrible separation between art and the public. These days, there are no mediators between the public and artist. Critics have failed to do that by encrypting art and building barriers between the two worlds.

quotes are by Firimita, article by Richard Whittaker in Works & Conversations
I linger on the "absence of compassion" bit.
Why did I haul my art around the Bay in recent weekends? To gauge response, see people laugh at office supplies, and ask the questions "why powerlines?" "how long does it take?" "is there a secret meaning?" The interesting part of this equation is those other people and what the art inspires (or doesn't) in them...

marin arts fair 07

marin arts fair 07,
originally uploaded by robin kibby.

The weekend Brian and I crossed the bridge west to participate in the Marin Arts Fair. My booth was near the stilt-walker section of the grounds so we got to see a band of modern gypsies transform into corset wearing long-legged clowns, dragons,and sunflowers. The children were face-painted and costumed as well, and danced and played at the end of ribbon-leashes held by an adult. Their camp was articulated by the modern caravan of Dodge Sprinter vans and Prius cars. After the make up came off, the kids wrestled in the grass and sang.

We were literally facing the music, so both days started with Tico drumming and mellowed into afternoon guitar or banjo.

On the art-end, it was a change to hear from the Marin crowd. They are not used to seeing the Bay from the East, so had difficulty identifying where my big Berkeley (grizzly peak-ish view) was from. At Live Oak Park, most visitors were filled with local pride and recognition of a good spot. Marin elicited more puzzled looks and questions. My decision to leave out the Golden Gate bridge was more controversial here than in Berkeley. Some were excited or amused by my attention to simple objects, and some excited to see brush-stroke activity on the canvas. After a speedy tour of the grounds, I see how this could be a novelty amid booths of flowers, fruits, and seasides floating on smooth canvas.

When I consider my hopes and expectations for this summer's fairs, they were all met - I gave out cards, met new folks, and nothing fell down or took flight in a stiff breeze. I ate well, had great company, and met some folks that I hope will turn into good future friends.


The Marin event was 3 times larger and more commercial than last weekend - both by the type of product and in the way it was put together. The shiny white-peaked tent tops were quite nice (Bri got a lot of cool pix of them). And the location was stellar, next to a big lagoon. Lunch was a mean portabella sandwich and hand scooped ice cream for dessert. Highlights included seeing some family and friends I haven't caught up with for a while.

Along with all the good vibes, I returned home super-tired and with a feeling of uncertainty. I guess I am a gypsy as well, seeking the right white walls and crowd to show to. For now, all I can do is make more work and keep moving around, looking for the perfectly placed wedge of pegboard or empty walls under track lighting.

Project of the day is to reclaim the living room from the piles of plastic boxes full of art goods and return the van. I spent a good hour at Andronico's and treated myself to delicious snacks, a jug of superfood juice, and the ingredients for good baking.

Not sure if I will cross the Bay again next year -- I will wait for a few more nights good sleep to decide.