“I have worked hard to give up a place ordained by others in the world….” — Mark Nepo

Alphabet, a journal curated, designed and edited by Carl Rohrs, features my work in the current summer issue, with a special section on my invented alphabets. (This is the back cover; the front cover honors the work and loss of a beloved leader of calligraphy in America, Sheila Waters). The painting above: Sorting the Seeds, oil on wood, Laurie Doctor.

“I have worked hard to give up a place ordained by others in the world, for this always leads me into noise, confusion and gruffness.”
— Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening

My aim in teaching is the same for my students as it is for myself: to give up the place “ordained by others” and step into my own particular place in the world. The world cannot find me if I don’t find myself. I begin class with more than an idea, more than faith: it is the experience that each student who shows up has a gift — a gift that no one else has. The contemplative atmosphere in the classroom cultivates work that is distinct to each student. In our recent class in Taos, New Mexico, all the students worked with the same structure, tools, book form, and alphabet — and yet delicious creations arose that are unlike anything or anyone else. (Images from students below).

Our classroom convened at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House, which remains a favorite destination, and keeps rising in my praise. New Mexico still feels like a different country — it is the land of enchantment — and retains a very unique sense of place. Here is a taste of the signs along the road on a short visit to the small town of Chimayo:

Road signs from the small town, Chimayo, New Mexico: Chimayo | Holy | Chilé

At one point in our week at Mabel’s, we took a silent walk and gathered things from the desert. Everyone came back with something to make marks with. Romy returned with an unlikely tool: a smooth stone that she used as a “stamp” to make these flowers on the case for her book:

Case for book by Romy Colonius | Stamping with a found object | Gouache and gold ink on Arches black cover paper

In this class I introduced a new alphabet I am working on. Below, Romy is writing this invented alphabet with a mussel shell — a tool I always hand out at the beginning of my classes:

Book pages | Romy Colonius | Watercolor on Rieves BFK paper, written with a mussel shell

Jean Lopez made wide pens for the entire class, and we experimented with the alphabet and pattern. Below Jean is writing in our alphabet with a fine point pen and the wide wood veneer pen.

Book pages | Jean Lopez | Watercolor, ink and white China marker on Rives BFK paper using a limited palette.

Marcia was making pages pop out in her book, playing with form and color:

Book page | Marcia Hocevar | Watercolor and ink on Rives BFK paper

This book page below is a combination of fabric (triangular pattern from an old kimono), handmade black paper (stitched onto kimono fabric) and watercolor (right hand page) by Roz Barhaugh:

Book page by Roz Barhaugh | Collage, kimono fabric, stitching & watercolor

Keith experimented with painting Japanese paper and making a collage (left) and transferring the watercolor onto butcher paper (right)

Book page by Keith Auerbach | Japanese painted paper collage (left) & transfer onto butcher paper scrap (right)

Below are the cases the students made for their books:

From left to right, beginning with the top row: Katie Barnes, Trudy Ray, Romy Colonius, Lynn Walker, Roz Barhaugh, Barbara Forsberg, Jane Robertson, Kay Bueno de Mesquita, and Jean Lopez.

From left to right, beginning with the top row: Happy Price, Shannon Poynter, Keith Auerbach, Marcia Hocevar, Judi Brenes, Lisa Cancro

I will end here with another photo from Chimayo, and a thought that travel is an invigorating step into feeling who I am again, being refreshed. There is a sense of discovery not just of the place, but of an “uncovered me” in this other place.

This image and the blue New Mexico sky make me smile.

What have you done to shake the dust off? I’d love to hear from you.

Previous
Previous

The Lit Corridor

Next
Next

Art as Devotion