Great-Great Grandma's Flag

For July 4th: This flag, created in the tiny town of Snydertown, PA, was made to welcome home their returning Civil War veterans in 1865. My great-great-grandmother, Mary Arnold, as a 12 year old girl, sewed the stars in the field. After sewing the flag, they all retired to a community sauerkraut supper (which is how all good things end in Central Pennsylvania). My siblings and I helped my parents restore the flag a number of years ago. It resides at my parents' home in Selinsgrove, PA. It's a beautiful flag. On this 152nd anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, in which several of my forbears participated, Happy July 4th.

Rosa Bonheur: My 19th Century Gal Pal

I haven't posted in a while. Busy, busy life. Would Rosa Bonheur forgive me? Probably not, and good for her! She was a supremely dedicated, talented, and singularly uncompromising artist, who made her way at a time and in a culture that, largely, didn't want to acknowledge an accomplished woman. She was unconventional in this large way. And in small ways. She smoked. She refused to ride side-saddle. She sought, and received, permission to dress "as a man" (particularly at the horse fair) in order to accomplish her work.

Her devotion to animals, and her passion for depicting them, was lifelong. Her most iconic piece, "The Horse Fair," now hangs at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City (1000 5th Ave.). Go see it. In the meantime, here, for your enjoyment, is my own tribute to this wonderful, but often overlooked, artist.

This piece is now on view at the Society of Illustrators Museum of American Illustration, also in New York City (128 East 63rd St.). The show is "Artists Illustrating Artists." and runs until August 15th, 2015. It's not that far from the Met. See both? "Artists Illustrating Artists" at the Society of Illustrators.

She was also the first woman to be awarded the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor (by Napoleon's Empress, Eugénie, no less). You can learn more about Rosa Bonheur all over the interwebz, but you could stop here first: National Museum of Women in the Arts

Toilet Paper, Utilitarian Product or Artistic Medium?

Another sketchbook entry from the year past. Just going through and reliving the good times! Proof positive that:

1. A good artist can make the magic happen using anything available

2. Creativity is not bound by budget

Mithu Sen, Visiting Artist

Not long ago Mithu Sen, contemporary artist, visited us and offered this terrific lecture. Though there were some A/V problems, initially, it all worked out in the end. She was erudite, funny, smart, and showed amazing work. Plus, her visit prompted my colleague, Kathryn Myers, to invite us all over for dinner. Which is great, because Kathryn is an excellent cook. We took that opportunity to introduce Mithu to marshmallow peeps. Someone had to.

Betty Lou Starnes, art historian, serves up some peep goodness. Mithu Sen chooses pink.

Mithu Sen and Kathryn Myers, post-talk. All's well that ends well.

The DMV. Soul-Crushing Black Hole of Desperateness. But I'm Not Bitter...

Revisiting some past sketchbooks yielded this image. It makes me weep. And grit my teeth. (Not unlike that moment in which I discover that the DSW Shoe Outlet coupon I've been hoarding has expired.) On this particular morning the line to be admitted to the interior space of the DMV actually wound around the exterior of the building. We were let inside in waves. Once admitted, the inner sanctum yielded a vast wasteland of thinly padded chairs, cranky patrons, and crankier employees. Good times!

Embrace Technology: Future Editor

Sketchbook goodness. Just a little image that's been kickin' around. It seems to be an editorial comment, but, not really. Just a brief, passing thought on automation. Well, ok then! I guess it IS an editorial comment. Power to the pencil- right on!

Pity the Groundhog, For He Labors On February 1st...

So, today was Groundhog Day. As a Pennsylvania gal, I take a certain amount of pride in the fact that Punxsutawney Phil is our guy, and ours alone. But it's an awful lot of pressure on a hapless rodent. I can't help but imagine the pre-game jitters. So I did. Imagine them, I mean.

In this cover for Spider magazine a couple of years ago we see Phil in the wee hours, trying, rather desperately, to divine what may be. And, obviously, he's deadlining (that's a nod to my profession, for sure).

This was the February/March issue. The shamrocks on the tablecloth are a reference to March. The pressure's off by then and Phil can go back to relaxing. And randomly destroying people's gardens. Spring is (somewhere) around the corner. He knows that.