Tag Archives: hope

What does HOPE look like?

I love art installations. I have yet to create an installation purely of my own work, and so I turn to my greater community for help. Thankfully, the congregation at First United Church in Bloomington, Indiana is tolerant of my needs and gladly participates when I ask.

This winter, I was obsessed with finding hope. I asked the congregation, as well as the community groups that use our space, to send me images of hope from their cell phone cameras. My comment to them was that unless it was an image of their grocery list or the book they wanted to read, the content was probably something that other people might find hopeful.

wave of photographs on blue paper

An installation of photographs on blue paper creates a wave of hope in the hallway of First United Church, Bloomington, Indiana.

Assembling the wave of hope

Over the course of a month or so, I received 120 images, which I downloaded and sent off to be printed. My challenge was to combine these images in a way that made a statement, but did not require expensive framing and could be displayed easily on a painted cinderblock wall.

A few years ago, I had seen an installation of solar printmaking using cardboard and small loose-leaf binder rings. I decided to augment this idea to create what I was seeing as “A Wave of Hope.” I purchased four colors of blue scrapbooking paper — thick enough, but not too heavy — along with 500 1/2 inch binder rings. With a newly acquired ATG tape dispenser, I mounted the photos in either a landscape or portrait format on the blue paper. I drilled holes through the stacks of paper, and took the entire set to the site for assembly.

 

The challenge of the actual installing

With the help of my daughter Hannah, we created a makeshift armature out of dowel rods and the hanging system in the art hallway. We formed chains of imagery, linked with these rings and attached each one invisibly to the armature with fishing line. The chains moved up and down as if they were waves, but were attached to one another so that they did not twist and the entire piece had a bit more stability.

I don’t hear huge exclamations when people pass the installation, but they slow down and seem absorbed in the imagery. I think that is what hope is like — it will sneak up on you if only you are open to receive it.

If you are so moved– why not attach a hopeful image in the comment section?

Share

Change the color and change the meaning

A few blogs ago I shared some images of the altocumulus undulatus clouds I snapped early one morning. While I loved the shape of these clouds, I don’t find their white to light blue coloring terribly compelling in an artistic sense. As I mentioned in my last blog, I was steered toward the blue greens when printing over orange and yellow. The final result is Harbinger in Teal.

Elizabeth Busey, Harbinger in Teal, Reduction Linocut, 18 x 28 in, edition of 24, $450.

Altocumulus undulatus clouds result from wind shear — an abrupt speed or directional shift that signals a change in the weather. Where I live, a weather change is often brought about by violent storms, and some people link strong storms with blue green clouds. So I embraced my uniquely colored clouds as an illustration of how the world feels to me at times.

Things are unsettled, changes may be coming, and it is not clear if they will be disastrous, or merely different. All we can do is watch the clouds, and hang on.

Hanging on while looking for hope

I took a break from the studio recently to visit Asheville, North Carolina and the surrounding countryside. With the radio turned off and a ban on reading the New York Times on my phone, I was able to capture some images that I found hopeful…

 

 

Hope really is an action, not just an emotion. Continuing to be hopeful in the face of the alternatives takes perseverance.

Keep looking for hope, and if you find some, please share it. The world needs lots of hope.

Share

Starting the New Year with hope, perspective and joy

New Year’s Day is my favorite holiday. No rushing about, no presents or expectations that probably won’t be met. Rather we have clean counters, a fresh page on the wall calendar, and time spent making homemade long-life noodles topped with smoked salmon and pesto cream sauce.

To begin the New Year, I send you some images with my best wishes for you in 2016.

HOPE Planetree of St Stephan

© Elizabeth Busey. Planetree of St. Stephan. Reduction linocut. 28 x 28in, edition of 13, $550 unframed.

HOPE — Marc Chagall must have had hope as he created his ethereal blue windows for the Church of St. Stephen in Mainz, Germany. These blues inspired this linocut. May you find hope this year, and remember, hope is an action.

PERSPECTIVE Tranquil Terraces Dawning

© Elizabeth Busey. Tranquil Terraces Dawning. Reduction linocut, 10 x 33in image size, edition of 19, $275 unframed.

PERSPECTIVE — May you evaluate all the opportunities that are provided to you and choose wisely. Spend your time on the things that are most important and will make the most difference to you, the ones you love, and the world.

UNEXPECTED JOY Captured

©Elizabeth Busey. Captured. Reduction linocut, 23 x 18in image size, edition of 15, $200 unframed.

UNEXPECTED JOY — May you find delightful surprises to punctuate the turbulence that all life brings. Why not share these joys with others?

Thanks for reading my blog. More linocuts to come in 2016, plus new explorations of other media.  Peace, Elizabeth

 

Share

A bit of hope for the season

Making art when you are worried or under stress can be hard.  I created this linocut, entitled Hope Despite the Evidence, in response to a dear friend’s medical crisis. An homage to the great printmaker M.C. Escher, it portrays barren, flooded fields that capture a hopeful scene of blue skies and white clouds in a reflection. A wise friend observed recently that hope is more than an emotion — it is an action. Today I saw hope in action…

Hope Despite the Evidence

©Elizabeth Busey, Hope Despite the Evidence. Reduction linocut, 17 x 25, edition of 25.

Hope arrived this morning at my progressive church in Bloomington, IN in the form of about ten members of our city who are of Turkish descent. Many are graduate students or faculty at Indiana University, but they are also members of a nonprofit organization — founded in the Midwest — that encourages Muslims to bring Noah’s Pudding to Christian congregations as a way of creating community and understanding.

The making of Noah’s Pudding is a cultural observance in the homes of both Muslims and Christians in the Middle East. It is created (with no animal products) by boiling grains and legumes and sometimes almonds with water and sugar to create a congealed pudding. After sitting overnight, dried fruits, other nuts and spices are simmered, and the entire creation is served cold topped with pomegranate. Recipes are large, and the intent is to make enough so you can share cups with all of your neighbors.

Our minister said that this observance had been scheduled long before the violence in San Bernadino, CA took place this week. He also observed that he could think of no better action that we could take in response to this violence than to establish warm relationships with our Muslim brothers and sisters.

The pudding was delicious, and it was a joy to meet people who have traveled far from their warm, Mediterranean homes in order to study and to teach. They filled our stomachs, and our hearts. I am already wondering how we can reciprocate.

Hope is an action…

You can read more about the tradition of Noah’s Pudding here.

Share

Finding hope in no thank you

I’ve been getting quite a few “no thank you’s” in my e-mail inbox lately. From a prominent art fair in a nearby state to juried printmaking shows, the “no thanks” have been rolling in.  The writers are always appreciative of my entry, and encourage me to apply again. Quite honestly, my mouse hand is quick to find the delete button.
I sometimes wish it would enough for me to just create art, and not want to share it with others. After family and friends, the task of further sharing your art becomes more difficult and expensive, sometimes exciting, but always stressful.
I am not conceited nor naive enough to think that I should always have my work accepted.  I am fairly new at exhibiting, and my style of printmaking looks very different from other printmakers. But I do wonder, where is the hope in “no thank you”?

(more…)

Share