The Creative Process - a Homework Assignment

Here's another homework assignment from summer classes at SFSU. We had to write about an experience in a poetic sort of way. Don't ask me to describe the assignment, we take hours every day in class talking about assignment requirements. Just know that we had to use a particular sort of writing style that resembles poetry and is slightly unconventional with grammar. I chose to write about something extremely unconventional: creating art! Also, as I wrote, I got inspired to draw what's below. When you read the assignment you might see why. I have greatly missed creating art and shall be doing more of it in the near future for sure.

~Enjoy!

Final Arabesque
Medium: Ink
Size: 9x12 inches
©2012 Claire Nobles
Original: Not for Sale

Creative Performance Process

I stare daggers into a blank sheet of arches hot press watercolor paper, hoping I can explode it with my mind. Several minutes go by and the paper still has not been touched. The mechanical pencil winces in my hand as my fingers flex it to nearly break. Inspiration needs to come soon or there’s going to be a fist-shaped hole in my desk.

As usual, my muse waits for just this moment to strike. As my patience escapes me like steam from a kettle, it becomes clear. A line forms on the paper. *deep breath* Now that one line is down the rest won’t seem so bad. My hand leads and the pencil follows: perfect partners in this dance number that is drawing. The two perform complicated twists, turns, maybe even some pirouettes... incorporating ballroom steps and jazz moves alike. A figure emerges in the lines left by my pencil. I stop abruptly. Was that me, or my hand who drew the figure? When I give in and let my mind go, I am nearly always surprised by what is created.

As I stop drawing, the logical side of my brain kicks in and examines the figure on the paper. The eraser fixes minor errors but leaves the piece mainly untouched. I bring out the pen. Lining the drawing in ink is not as fun as the first time I let my hand wander. The pen is more of a precise and unforgiving presence than the carefree pencil. My hand’s demeanor has changed into a serious dance lead. Strict, like the tango the two march across the lines, abruptly yet precisely turning at exactly the right moments. These two have had tons of practice together, and seldom make errors.

As the hand and pen finish in a final twirl, the curtain closes and my brain applauds that I didn’t mess up. Intermission. I take a sip of much needed coffee. And showtime! 

The paints and brushes are coming out. Professionals, yet they resemble circus characters: with their wild leaps, jumps, daredevil decisions and charm. The stage is drenched with a wash of water using my large Chinese calligraphy brush and a touch of yellow ochre. Now it’s time for the fireworks. Acrobatic paint splatters across the page creating starbursts. Each move is delicately planned and so effortlessly executed. As the ringmaster, I focus and work quickly with each act before the paper dries.

The scene is night and browns and violets are prevalent in the background. A sprinkle of salt to complement the night sky with stars, staying careful not to hit the painted figure. As it dries, I wait; only adding in extra colors when necessary. It’s hard to sit still and play a waiting game. My hand loves to keep dancing. Mixing colors passes the time. After seeing the show, the inner critic dictates improvements to be made. A lovely peach for highlights and a cool blue for shadows: it’s all planned out. Though if too much time passes, I may change my mind. The whole idea must stay fresh or boredom will set in on this audience.

Finally, it’s dry and my hand resumes its rhythmic form. Only some touch ups here and there, though I am a tough critic to please. A smaller brush winds up the side of the figure, holding it steady. The brush must have complete control and the water cannot bleed out. Slow and sure does the trick. Some darkening of shadows and some blending of mid-tones turns the act more vibrant. In the final number I unwillingly let go and let my hand resume its methodical ballet form. A final arabesque and the curtain closes as I get up and stretch: back in reality. My cat falls off my lap. How long had he been there without my knowledge? He grumbles and makes throaty noises as he slinks under the bed. The clock reads four hours later than the last time I checked and the sun is no longer shining beams through my window, it's dark. I would have sworn that time was standing still for me as I worked.

Every time I delve into my world of theatrical art supplies and extremities, I am mesmerized by the performance. And when you have the privilege of experiencing this feeling, your life will be forever be driven by art.

Feeling Insignificant in a Significant Sort of Way...

The following is something I was going to blog about anyways, then my professor for my summer class (yeah, I'm in summer class coz I'm hardcore) asked us to write about an experience in a particular sort of way that resembles poetry. The assignment is too difficult to describe here (we spent an hour or so talking about it) so just go with it and don't be surprised if it doesn't sound like my normal writing style... Also, sometimes I use adjectives and nouns as verbs and some other unconventional grammar, it was part of the assignment, so don't take it too seriously. Kind of a weird piece. Also the title is sarcasm. =)

I wrote about running a couple weeks ago, what followed after I ran, and the weird inner-workings of my brain. Enjoy!

Feeling Insignificant in a Significant Sort of Way

Sitting on my porch with laced shoes and iPhone in hand. I press the giant red button in the center of the screen. "Start Workout." Set off at a lope, hoping that time is on my side tonight. The clip-clop of my shoes echo across the empty street. I increase my pace. I think I’m positively flying now --until I see the silhouette of a bird pass me overhead and I realize I’m not flying, just running. Tasting the heat from my lungs anyways so I stop - and walk. Stupid bird. It’s a breezy night. A few others like me are out enjoying the endorphins. The usual smile, nod or hello is exchanged. They dress in layers, like we live up North. I like feeling the outdoors and the sweat on my skin, like I’m really in sync with nature, really working hard. My shorts and tshirt allow that exaggerated feeling. I wait for headlights to pass and then flow into a run once more.

This time the helloing and smiling comes more naturally. I’m getting better. The heat doesn’t rise up as fast. This time the bird makes me laugh as I fly across the grass, cement, or road.

Just to the stop sign, I think. A homeowner waves as I pass. She’s definitely feeling the outdoors like me. Her garden gloves are covered in earth, her stature shows she spent all day in the yard. As I dizzy, I remember to breathe and look forward. Basics. Only another block, right? I keep telling myself that. But it’s a big block. No cheating, just finish it.

A few complicated dance steps over uneven sidewalk. The thought of injury or stopping in this weather presses me on. The sun is already down. It will only get colder.

Tick-tick-ticking of sprinklers I don’t bother avoiding, just cover my iPhone and it’ll be fine: slap-slap. I forgot about having wet shoes… Stop thinking!

Clip-clop, echo my feet.

I break my rule of non-thinking to check my iPhone. Ok, only two more blocks will set a personal record. My body whines. Here we go.

A black and white furry tail followed by the turn, curious blue eyes and pink wet tongue. “Aw, is that a husky?” I can still talk, this is easy. The owner doesn’t hear me and I’m already passing him and the smiling wolf-dog. My shoes clip-clop against silence again.

I sprint the last few meters as my calves protest yet delight in my success. A personal record and I feel great!

I’ve reached traffic. Loud. I turn back and begin my walk home. The sweat is still hot on my skin even though the wind is not.

As I come around a bend, onto the grass, so does the bright, rising moon. The moon is huge when so close to the earth. Actually, it’s the size of the stop sign ahead. I take this (ironically) as a sign, and stop. My inertia catches up with me and sprawls me into the grass.

My warm sweat from running mixes with the cool grass and it tickles the skin. It cradles me. I stare up above at the evening sky. No stars quite yet. Just listening to the wind in the trees and watching the few clouds that pepper the sky. I feel like I did when I was a child, just watching clouds. I have never felt so alive. The grass is tall enough to make me wonder if anyone can see me, or if I have truly melted into the earth. As a bug crawls across my elbow, I feel as though, maybe, I have. Over me, beyond the blue expanse I imagine the stars and suns and worlds flying jillions of miles away. We’re so small. I briefly feel insignificant, lying in the grass attached to a beyond huge rotating planet—hanging on for dear life as we wildly hurl throughout the solar system… --“Is she okay?!” A slowing car and a concerned voice brings me back from my rather odd daydream.

“Her eyes are open… She’s fine,” another voice replies with fear and relief in her tone—perhaps she’s a mother. The car pulls away. I realize that while I was experiencing all of the universe and cosmic space around me, I was worrying the passersby who only saw a jogger lying awkwardly in an open field, potentially passed out or mortally injured. Maybe I am finally suffering from what they call a “runner’s high.”

I'm Living with Red-Eyed Tree Frogs...

Meet Filbert Toad! 

Meet Joe Frog! (center of photo)

My older brother is kind of the out-doorsy type that had been fascinated by reptiles and animals since he was little. He was always the kind of kid who, when we got to a camp ground or hiking trail would dart away from the car and come back within seconds with a huge smile on his face, holding a lizard or giant snake of some kind. He also knew every single species of reptile possibly imaginable, he was kind of a wikipedia of reptile knowledge. I think he has owned at least 3 lizards, two geckos, a snake or two, some frogs, fish, a komodo dragon, a parakeet, a bunny, a cat  and two pitbulls in his life. Anyways, for Mother's Day, he gave my mom his Red-Eyed Tree Frogs since she also has always loved frogs. 

So I came home one day, and there was this tank in the family room with two little green intruders. At least, that's how my cat, Jasper saw it. 

If you did not know, Jasper the Cat's mother was actually born and raised in France, technically making Jasper half-French. It's a big joke between my French friend, Alexandra and I. We always make fun of Jasper for French stereotypes, namely being that he wants to eat frogs. And since those little Red-Eyes have moved in, Jasper seriously wants to eat them. It's hilarious to me, but my mom told Jasper she would "make Jasper Stew" and "kill you" if he ate her frogs...

If you have never owned Tree Frogs before, they're kind of boring... Mainly because they are nocturnal and during the day are just suctioned to the glass. I'm a cat/dog person and not really one for pets smaller than a cat. Being able to pet and cuddle with my animals is important to me. Don't try to cuddle with a tree frog, they can't even be touched... They're allergic to you. Which is pretty funny and backwards. Tree Frogs are basically a "picture pet," meaning that they are only around for looks. 

But I digress. My dad named them Frog and Toad, based off the children's books with the same name. My mom kept interchanging their names, so I started calling the slightly more interesting and much bigger guy Joe Frog, and the littler guy who just suctions himself to the side of the tank all the time, Filbert Toad. (We have no idea if they are actually males though.)

Filbert and Joe eat crickets, which can be fun to watch (if they actually decide to move). Joe moves like a cougar and pounces on crickets like he's a jungle cat. Filbert usually stays firmly suctioned to the glass and every now and then tries to escape-- which Jasper waits for with anticipation and stations himself directly next to the tank during feeding times. 

As I said, Joe and Filbert are usually suctioned to the glass. Sometimes if they are cold, they snuggle (well, as much a a frog is going to snuggle) and other days they are on opposite ends of the tank, and Jasper and I conclude that they had a fight. 

Filbert is the closer one, while Joe remains on the far side... Not sure what they fought about but they are not budging on the matter! (teeheehee!)

So, what have some of your weirder pets been? Answer and follow me on Twitter @ClaireNoblesArt

I would run 73 miles and I would run 73 more... Hopefully

Hello loyal people,

Sorry that the title of this blog doesn't quite fit into the song by the Proclaimers... Oh well.

So, I have not been consistent lately with my artwork or blog or website AT ALL for the past few months. You see, I have been trying to achieve some balance in my life. Being a college student, taking summer classes, working and managing my art, and general life necessities, I needed something extreme.

So I've taken up running. Seriously, Me: running!!!

Having congenital heart defects, and three open heart surgeries, there are serious risks to increasing my exercise. And due to my heart defects, I don't think I've been forced to run more than a few yards since I was 15 (nine years ago- jeesh!). I am an active walker and yoga-doer, but tire easily and usually don't try to push myself. So I've had to go at a snail's pace with running in order not to injure myself and in order to get to the point where I'm relatively ok at the darn sport.

So I started logging walk-jog miles in my Nike+ app. And since May 2nd, I have completed (are you ready for this?) 73 miles-- MILES! 73!!!! Not even joking, you can look at my Nike+ App if you don't believe me. Most runners might find that to be a very low milege, actually. But for me, it's kind of ridiculously awesome.

So now I am obsessively running at least 3-5 times a week. I feel more energized and while I'm relatively trim and didn't have much weight to loose, I've started to notice that my legs and arms actually do have muscles! Who knew? The BEST part about my running is that it is a serious stress-reducer. As a college student who works and manages an art career, my stress levels are ridiculously high. And lately, I have had no drive whatsoever to create art. None. Being that my career is an artist, this is not a good thing.

So for the past (almost) 2 months, I have been putting all my effort into running. Obsessive effort, like reading running magazines and researching information about form and work outs and races and I even bought running shoes and am signing up for a 5k! (My running shoes are the most expensive shoes I have EVER bought in my whole life btw.) Happy to say, it's been paying off in a big way. Not to get nerdy and cause you to stop reading, (just skip to the next paragraph if you get bored) but carbs are apparently a runner's best friend. Being an Italian at heart and having pasta, bread and bagels and rice being all that I eat normally, this is one of the greatest choices in the universe that I could have made to keep my jeans size. Also, if you do a big workout, then you actually have to eat MORE FOOD in order to fuel your body in a healthy way (bwahahahaha!). For anyone who knows me, they know that I love to eat and that I basically never stop eating, ever. Sometimes I bring whole meals to class and my classmates gape at me as I pull out coffee, yogurt, fruit, a bagel, a muffin, granola, almonds, etc from my schoolbag. And in the 73 miles that I've run, my app tells me I've burned over 6,ooo calories. (Though I had at least two or three celebratory chocolate milkshakes with whipped cream during that time which probably added up to 6,000 calories anyways.)

Anyhow, as I was online today, and skimming over some of my favorite artist's blogs and paintings, I realized how much I missed drawing and creating. Sometimes that's all one needs to get going again. I do apologize for my absence, it has been very touch an go for the past year (mainly from my classes) but I believe that I with this new stress reliever, I can get back into my regular obsessive artwork (if it's not one thing, it's another!)

More blogs to come this week! We've had writing assignments in my summer class that I'll probably post along with possible new doodles AND -- MY COMPUTER IS COMING BACK TO ME!!!! My lovely webguy Matt, has fixed my comp and I can pick it up this week and hopefully scan in some old pieces in next week!

Bye for now~