Not a journal or diary, not chronological or introspective, the commonplace book is akin to a scrapbook. It’s a way to condense and centralize any information of interest.

Observing and recording quotes, ideas, expressions, images, passages from books; segments from blogs, articles, essays; tables, charts, bits of conversation; whatever it might be that the compiler wants to refer back to or keep for possible future use is a natural for those involved in any creative activity.

What’s old is new again. Begun in early modern Europe, commonplace books became a regular practice for scholars including John Locke and Francis Bacon. Part of university education, keeping commonplace books was taught at Oxford and Harvard. John Milton, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau and Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) all kept commonplace books.

Commonplace books can contain information on one subject or a variety of subjects, entered into the book as you come across them. I tend to keep one book until it’s full, then take up another. When working on a specific project, such as writing a new book, preparing a series of paintings, or learning a new subject, I try to keep all the information in a separate book just for that project. If the book isn’t at hand and I scribble notes for a project on a handy scrap of paper, I can add it to the book later on.

As a learning tool, record anything that is interesting or appealing in some way, to possibly use in future, or just for the pleasure of knowing it and being able to revisit or share it.

Maybe you prefer to keep your commonplace book online. That works too!

Working on a tiny 6×9 watercolor block loosens the tightness…Choosing a few small objects and holding each one in my hand as I sketch is calming…The unimposing size and familiarity of subject warms my brain,  readies me to face large, more complex work.

Painting small leaves lots of breathing room…Quick and freeing, these exercises open the flow.

Needing a break from agonizing over my painting, I took a detour into flour drawing. I figured it might feel refreshing to experiment a bit so I sprinkled some flour onto a dark, smooth surface and grabbed a pencil. Freeing and fleeting, like drawing at the beach in wet sand with a stick, only it’s January and freezing outside so flour and a pencil would have to do.

The flour was sprinkled through a sifter, to get a somewhat even layer, on a 12×17 baking pan. Turns out that using a thin layer of flour works better than a thick layer – which was more like trudging through snow than drawing. After drawing the pears I used a very small sieve to carefully add more flour to heighten their whiteness and depth. Last thing – adding dried rosemary leaves.

When I liked a drawing I’d take a photo, scrape off the flour and start again. Fun!

I think better with my hands.

The mind and hands are co-conspirators when it comes to drawing, painting and printing – so rather than just thinking about what to draw, paint or print, hands that are busy in the process of doing leads to more imaginative results.

Would I have figured out how to print eggshells without holding them in my hands, moving them around and cracking them into little mosaic bits? I doubt it.

The same goes for trying to figure out how to print stiff, sturdy tomato vines, complex flowers like iris and orchids, and a whole stalk of celery.

Hands can work things out. They have a direct link to sensitive, nonverbal brain parts that just know. Taking lots of photos and making sketches are important to my working process. Touching, holding and manipulating the objects I want to portray is critical.

Sometimes bright, sometimes moody. I see it most nights, way out there, about 240,000 miles away, born from the earth. I paint it and paint it and paint it some more.“Moonlight floods the whole sky from horizon to horizon.” -Rumi

“At night, I open the window and ask the moon to press its face against mine.” –Rumi

What’s more fun than eating your vegetables? Printing them!

Printing veggies is food for a creative appetite. Head to the market this season for carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, celery, or whatever fresh produce looks good for making a cozy home project or for gift giving. Print veggie images on paper for framing or on ready made fabric items.

Printing plants of all kinds has historic roots dating back centuries — Ben Franklin printed leaves on colonial currency to deter counterfeiting. Leonardo da Vinci printed a sage leaf in his manuscript Codice Atlantico. In 1557, Italian alchemist Alexius Pedemontanus gave detailed instructions for printing leaves in his Book of Secrets suggesting “… in this way you may make gallant things to adorn your chamber.”

Create some kitchen alchemy by transforming a plain tablecloth and napkins into a bed of roses using celery — no kidding, celery prints resemble roses. Lilliputian broccoli ‘trees’ become whimsical landscapes ready for framing. Print on placemats, recipe cards, canisters, walls . . .  once the printing starts it’s hard to stop!

Gather supplies: acrylic paints, plastic plate palette, popsicle sticks to mix colors, cosmetic foam wedges, paper towels, sharp knife, a selection of papers and fabrics, fresh bunch of celery, broccoli, carrots, & some mushrooms.

Prepare vegetables: Cut celery bunch 3″ from root end. Cut off individual broccoli stems including florets to form ‘trees’. Slice each ‘tree’ vertically in half. Slice mushrooms and carrots vertically in half. Blot all cuts with paper towels. Remove leafy tops from carrots and choose a select few for printing.

Print: Hold veggie like a stamp and dab  acrylic paint on cut surface using a cosmetic foam wedge. Press to paper or fabric, hold for about 5 seconds, and lift straight up and off to reveal print. Dab leafy carrot tops with paint, place paint side down and cover with newsprint paper. Use hand pressure to print.

Tips for best results:

• Make some practice prints before printing on your project to determine the amount of paint and pressure needed.
• Choose firm, well-formed vegetables to last for many printings.
• Slice vegetables evenly to create a flat, easy to print surface.
• Wrap celery near the but end with a rubber band for stability when printing.
• Choose smooth-surfaced, medium-weight papers and fabrics.
• When printing on fabrics, use acrylic paint made for fabric and heat-set per lable instructions.
• Print on paper using artists acrylic paint.
• Use a separate, clean cosmetic wedge for each color.
• Clean hands between printings to keep project fingerprint-free.
• Place a plastic trash bag under fabric or paper to protect work surface from seepage.

See my book Hand Printing from Nature www.laurabethmann.com/book2b.html for 50 project ideas and lots more printing techniques.

While in Princeton, NJ for a seminar on Tuesday I stopped by the University’s art museum to catch “John Constable Oil Sketches from the Victoria and Albert Museum”. A number of watercolor and graphite sketches were also included. Constable’s large scale paintings are based on these sketches and when I walked into that gallery I found treasure.

A prominent landscape painter in early 19th century England, John Constable is famous for occasional wild and furious brushwork, brooding skies and local details of life in his beloved countryside of Stour Valley. His personal sentiment for these subjects is seen in the great sweeps of light, wind and clouds, and the large paintings chock full of busyness are quite characteristic of the Romantic style.

The paintings were created in his studio from the sketches created outdoors, and it’s those sketches that contain all the bright freshness of the day. Usually featuring a single subject and maybe some indistinct background, he sketched quickly on bits of used canvas or paper. Irregular cropping with visible tack holes in the corners or along edges add to the spirit of spontaneity.

When my art historian friend Doug Shawn was a student in England his tutor sent him to the Victoria & Albert Museum to study John Constable’s sketches. Doug was “bowled over. The man could do clouds.” While appreciating Constable’s paintings, neither of us have ever been particularly wowed. Art collector friend Rosemary Beavers has summed it up stating that they seem “boringly proper”. No disrespect to Mr. Constable. Art is, after all, Subjective. And we can’t all be huge fans of the Romantics. Personally, I understand when someone walks right by one of my paintings and yawns. That person undoubtedly prefers ferocious tigers on velvet or perhaps Disney stills. Nothing wrong with that.

In any case, all we have are our personal views.  I say John Constable’s sketches are where the action is. Looking at them makes me feel in tune with his creative pulse. He was OK.

www.princetonartmuseum.org/events/John%20Constable/

www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/a/constable_sketchbook/

Find

the essence

the choiceness

the needle

the crucial

the few

the true

In ‘The Book of Tea’ Okakura Kakuzo tells us that Laotse, the founder of Taoism, described how to find the essential by using the metaphor of a vacuum:  “The usefulness of a water pitcher dwelt in the emptiness where the water might be put, not in the form of the pitcher or the material of which it was made.”

Spring is here and we can’t wait to print our favorite plants and flowers. Some of my favorites are black-eyed Susan, iris, poppy, rose, and dandelion. Through the winter the produce market has been a haven of fruit and vegetable finds for printing. Scouring the aisles with a printer’s perspective we’ve zoned in on the appealing shapes and inner structures of broccoli, cabbage, mushrooms, peppers, walnuts, lemons, apples and pears. All of these print like a block or stamp when sliced in half. Herbs, carrot tops and turnip greens show us leafy possibilities. The curious textures of pineapple and cantaloupe rinds provide more printing patterns. And don’t forget bunches of celery and the vine sections from tomatoes-on-the-vine!

We may be anxious to make long-awaited images from the new growing season but as we wait for the oncoming wave of spring and summer, the produce market has kept us busy.