I am still making lots of mistakes with Gelli printing, because there are dozens of ways to do it wrong! But Ruthie Inman said don’t let a little thing like that stop me, and every now and then I get one right.
These are my favorites from the last few weeks. As you can tell, two used the same sycamore maple leaf and one is some lavender blossoms,
For today’s project, I chose these two to trim up for greeting cards. I couldn’t find a mat that worked with either, so I glued them down by themselves.
Only after I glued it down did I notice the white blotch on the lavender blossom one, but there is always a way to fix it! I pulled out my box of words cut from calendars, J. Peterman catalogues and magazines.
A few snips and careful UHU application (tweezers are best for those of us with short fingernails!)
and this one is ready for a friend who has just moved to a new country.
Between her busy art gallery (Artful Journey in Peoria, Illinois) and my Shingles, it has been a long time since I’ve sat down for a ZOOM art session with Ruthie Inman in Illinois.
So when we finally got together this week, we yakked and cut and collaged until I was totally worn out! Ruthie had chosen a very fitting collage project.
She had us building a small accordion book to glue into an existing art journal. I am still writing most days in the Journal I was keeping on our France trip, and always welcome the chance to add something interesting.
We measured some light-to-medium card stock about 3 by 5 inches, and joined 5 pieces together by their one inch flaps.
Since it was going in my France Journal, I chose bits and pieces that reminded me of the gardens, museums, restaurants and Emergency Rooms we had visited.
I used quite a few pages from Jennifer’s donated art calendar, adding them to ‘failed’ Gelli prints and roll-off papers, bits of an old Time/Life book on medicine, and pages from falling apart French language Agatha Christie mysteries. When I’m totally happy with it, I’ll stick it in my Journal.
I just love sticking bits of nonsense together to tell a story!
I am slowly (way too slowly, if you ask me) getting back to normal after Shingles knocked me flat. I still have some pain most of the day, take medications to sleep, and get tired easily.
But the world is still out there, and I’m getting out in it more. I like walking in the early morning, because the shadows are long and better for my still-light-sensitive eyes. And, as always, Laurelhurst Park is my favorite place.
Early mornings at the park are quiet and delightful. There were the usual dog walkers and baby walkers, but also pickle ball players, tai chi groups, and a maintenance guy power washing the picnic tables. A lady was training her puppy to sit and stay.
And there was the rain. Just a light drizzle, not enough for anyone to mind, but a steady, cooling reminder that time moves on and summer will end.
I was enjoying it so much, I walked until I was very tired. Feeling discouraged on my way out of the park, this piece of serendipitous advice found me, and I made it home.
You knew I wouldn’t stay down forever, right? Once an Adventure Grandma, always an Adventure Grandma.
So while I am getting up to speed after the Shingles knocked me flat, I am learning something that I’ve been wanting to try for a while:
Gelli Printing.
Ruthie Inman sent me the basic equipment years ago (because she knows I’m cheap and really wanted me to try it), a squishy gelli plate and a brayer. I pulled them out last week and I’ve been itching to feel well enough to jump in.
I watched several videos enough to feel that I had the hang of it….
And, as so often happens, only got the first steps right.
Sometimes I tried to roll paint over the masks, or got my left and my right mixed up, or this one, where I tried one too many layers and covered the whole thing up,
Finally, after watching Carolyn Hassard‘s beginning video all the way through, I tried a simple, two layer print. First, the background layer.
Then the second layer, green paint overlaid with some masks cut from watercolor paper scraps.
And finally, my finished print!
It is embarrassing how many tries it took me to get one simple print right.
But now that I’m feeling better, I realize that even if a print is not what you were after, or even ‘pretty’, it’s usually going to be interesting!
It has been just about a month since I have posted a blog. While we were in Bordeaux on our tour around France, I got sick and was diagnosed with shingles. Yep, shingles, there on the right side of my face. Ghoulish, huh?
Being sick is never fun, but being sick in a country where you barely know the language and have no contacts, personal vehicle or knowledge of how things work is terrifying.
I was lucky to be traveling with Grandpa Nelson and Auntie Bridgett. Grandpa is a genius at transportation systems, internet apps and reservations. Bridgett knows enough French to ask the right questions, pays attention to details, and is a firm, gentle caregiver. Between them they got me to emergency rooms, got our travel insurance activated, picked up the right medications and kept me fed.
Since fighting the shingles virus left me very feeble and nearly blind in one eye, Grandpa made sure there were wheelchairs at the train stations and airports across France and in Amsterdam. I rode around like a dippy Cleopatra, grateful for all the help but not really aware of much that was going on.
The highlight of the trip was that during our stay in Amsterdam, you and your family came to visit! We had a few hours of silliness and love before I was exhausted. Thanks to your parents for making the long trip!
Once we got back to Portland, my doctors appreciated all the care I had received in France. My ophthalmologist was pleased that the shingles hadn’t gotten into my eye, but merely swollen and numbed a bunch of the nerves, which should go away eventually.
Then there are the meds for the ‘next stage’. After the virus has gone into remission (apparently it never really goes away) there is weird nerve pain that sticks around, for weeks or even months.
And that is where I am now. My general health is improved to the point that I can walk around the park, make art, and cook dinner. I still need meds to sleep, because the prickly nerve pain is always there, hovering behind my eye. I also must not expose myself to direct sunlight, as that can re-activate the virus, so I wear a big scarf and carry a parasol when we go out walking. Here is my self-portrait.
So, life’s not normal yet, but progress is being made.
Now that we are having shorter stays in each city, we are having less of a chance to get to know them well, like we did Lyon. We are seeing the highlights.
And our last day was full of them! Auntie Bridgett and I wanted a real French lunch out, and Chez Mamie looked fun. (Chez Mamie means “Grandma’s Place.”) She must be one of those fun Grandmas!
Chez Mamie is in Place du Trinité, which has this incredible fountain of three caryatids holding a large, flowing basin of water. In the heat, they were the most comfortable imaginary creatures around.
It was a fun, interesting place, and delicious, as well. I had a canard confit, a duck leg cooked until it falls off the bone, and roasted potatoes. Bridgett enjoyed a nice white fish and a yummy peppery cream sauce.
There was also a city wide music festival going on, with all sorts of groups out playing in the streets and main squares. Everyone sounded wonderful, but I didn’t get any good pictures… I was either too far away or looking at everyone’s back.
Around 8:30, Bridgett and I headed down to the Garonne River to see the sunset. (Grandpa Nelson had been done in by the 95F temperature and opted out).
The crowds along the river were big and getting bigger by the minute, folks out to celebrate the Solstice, hear the music, see the sunset, and hang out with friends.
It was lovely. We stood and listened and watched the sparkles on the river as the sun dissolved into a cloud bank.
And then we headed home. Thanks, Toulouse! You were wonderful! Really hot, but wonderful.
It keeps getting hotter here in Toulouse, so we are limiting our time outside. This afternoon we managed to have a very warm (but really interesting) afternoon in Le Musée de Vieux Toulouse.
This museum, like so many others, is housed in an ‘hotel particulier”, a mansion once owned by a rich, influential family. It is smaller and more modest than some, but I thought it was charming.
It has a few Roman relics, like this lovely hunk of someone’s mosaic floor. There are some carvings and columns, but I get the feeling that the real good stuff is at a fancier museum.
Between the fall of Rome in 500 and the rise of the merchant class, there’s not much on display. People were too busy just making a living.
But once money started flowing into the city from trade in silk, woad, and farm goods, art and architecture started to thrive. It is really interesting to see a painting almost 100 years old that shows the original towers down by the Canal du Midi. I took a picture of these copies a few days ago. As you can see, the neighborhood has changed a bit.
And this painting of St. Sernin Cathedral is painted from almost the same angle as my photo.
A few changes, I grant you…
The folks at the Musée were very patient with me, answering my clumsy French questions slowly.
I have been practicing reading in French, both in museums and in my translated Agatha Christie novels, and it is really paying off! I was able to read this bit about Jules Léotard, the son of a local gymnastics teacher, who was the inventor of the ‘flying trapeze’ that we see at the circus.
Here is a piece of popular music that was written about him, after he was famous and then became a famous cyclist, participating in the newly popular long distance bike races.
When the weather gets hot, we head for art museums! This strategy has kept us well and happy in every city we have been to. We learn something, too, so that’s always nice.
Today, our goal was the Fondation Bemberg, a five minute walk away, housed in a ‘hotel particulier’ (a mansion) built by Pierre d’ Assezat (1500-1581). Many years later, Georges Bemberg, (1915-2011) amassed an impressive art collection and needed a place to put it. The hotel particulier was in need of repair and financing.
And an art museum was born!
As is the case in most museums, the classical works are on the lower floors. So we passed “ A Party os Asses” ,
what looked like Pedro Pascal posing as Zeus,
and one of the few works by a woman, Elisabeth Louise Vigée-Le Brun,
before we got to the Impressionists and their friends on the third floor.
There, much to Auntie Bridgett’s delight, was an entire room full of Pierre Bonnard’s paintings… Thirty One in all. My favorite was called “En Bateau”, because I want to take a dachshund out in a rowboat. You can tell she is just waiting for someone to come row for her.
Bridgett has so many favorites she couldn’t decide, but she really loves this one, called “Le Moulin Rouge or Place Blanche.”
And Grandpa Nelson’s favorite piece is Mary Cassatt’s “Portrait of a Young Woman in a White Hat.”
And of course, the pointillists were there. I like them because they remind me of quilting, of making a whole out of smaller bits. Paul Signac‘s “Pink Almonds in Bloom” was my favorite today.
And now that your eyes are full, I’ll say good night and write you some more tomorrow.
I have managed to catch a cold, and am stuck inside for a day or two here in Toulouse, feeling lousy. I’m not going to try and write much. Instead, I will show you some of the street art from Lyon, Montpellier, Arles, and Toulouse.
I don’t know how much there originally was to this poster. What she’s wearing is called a Liberty Cap, or Phrygian Cap. I think she’s fierce, there on a wall by the Roman Arena in Arles.
Montpellier has some talented collage artists running around!
I took this picture for Ruthie… Lyon really likes giraffes!
We’ve only been here in Toulouse for a few days, but I found these odd bits of cast metal window hardware. Someone has decided their clown faces needed highlighting. Weird, huh?
More for the outside world, tomorrow (fingers crossed).
When Auntie Bridgett and I were studying French with Shawn Quiane at Hartnell Community College, I did a report on the Canal du Midi.
I was fascinated by the 17th century construction, which allowed French shipping to travel from the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean without going past Spain. Since Spain and France were often at war, this was a really good idea.
Grandpa Nelson, being a history buff AND a transit geek, really wanted to see it, too, and there are actual boat tours that take you on the bit that goes through Toulouse. He got us tickets.
Of course, life always is more complicated than you think, and after a morning of site-seeing, we found ourselves dashing onto the A line Metro, hopping off at Jean Jaurès, and getting help from a wonderfully expressive Security Guard. A long, stuffy ride in a cross-town bus, and Voila! There was Le Capitole, our tour boat, tied up at Port L’Embouchure.
Turns out, we needn’t have hurried. Several dozen school kids made for slow boarding. Lots of noise, too, but we sat out on the front deck. Very warm, but hey, we had hats.
And once the boat got underway, all the nuisances were forgotten. We were quietly (mostly quietly, remember; a boat full of kids) gliding down a smooth green water highway, on water borrowed from the Garonne River.
On our cruise, we went through three locks, which are mechanical arrangements that allow boats in water to travel uphill. I would not be able to explain it here… take a few minutes, Google it, and come back.
Grandpa and I were quietly geeking out. This very construction carried silk from Toulouse to the Med for trade in the 1600s. When the U.S. was still a new set of British Colonies, boats were running on this canal.
Still, by the time we reached our destination and got off the boat at Port Saint Sauveur, we were thirsty, hungry and hot! We stopped at a market for juice, water, chips and snacks, and found a shady bench in the Jardin Rond to rehydrate. When we were ready, we footed it across town back to our apartment for a long rest, fine dinner, and a peaceful evening.
Dear Liza 