Posting just this once, to tell you we’ve unplugged for a week…
… and to let you know we didn’t forget about this week’s “P” design, which (appropriately) stands for “play!” (proper embellishment will follow…)
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. ~Rabindranath Tagore
Garden Majesty / © Patricia Saxton
Experience is not what happens to you; it is what you do with what happens to you. ~ Aldous Huxley
A friend brought this story of a woman designer to my attention, thinking I might find it inspiring.
It most definitely is.
The world is full of talent, full of success stories and tales of old glories ~ and new this and that’s roll in as steadily as tides hit shorelines. But how often do you hear of someone still producing marketable stuff at the tender age of 104?
It goes to show that discipline, passion, and vision are not bounded by age ~ and that experience counts. Just think of all that life going into works of art!
Eva Zeisel’s story is fascinating, her work remarkable, her longevity dazzling.
……………………..
The following is an excerpt from a Wall Street Journal Article.
When the lighting company Leucos announced recently that it was debuting a line of lamps by Eva Zeisel, even the collecting cognoscenti had to do a double take.
Ms. Zeisel is one of the great modernist designers of the 20th century. But what was she doing in the 21st? She was born around the same time as W.H. Auden, who’s been gone for nearly 40 years, and Frida Kahlo, nearly 60. Turns out that at 104, Ms. Zeisel is still creating her “things,” as she calls her designs, for companies ranging from Kleinreid to Design Within Reach.
The definition of a survivor, Ms. Zeisel was born in Budapest, went to Berlin for the glamorous period of the 1920s and then to Russia in the ’30s. “The arts from Russia seemed fresh and appealing,” she said. “So I decided to go and see what was behind the mountain.” There she had a run-in with Stalin, who imprisoned her for 16 months.
In 1938, she arrived in New York with $67 in her pocket and was given the first-ever one-woman show, seven years later, at MoMA. These days, she weekends near Nyack, N.Y., where she spoke to us about her life and latest works. (Read the full article here.)
Eva Zeisel was born in Budapest, Hungary on November 13, 1906. Over the last 86 years, she has become a world-renowned and honored designer. The most prestigious of all Eva’s accolades came in 2005 when she received the National Design Award for Lifetime Achievement by the National Design Museum, Smithsonian. At 99 years old, she could have used the award to bring closure to a very successful and productive career. However, Eva chose to continue to design new works of art to share with all of us.
proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.
Few games are more fun than a battle of ping pong. It’s blood-pumping, spirit-lifting, good old-fashioned fun. And that’s really about all there is to to say ~ except maybe to suggest you find a friend, a table and go play!
An old friend from my high school days found these early drawings of mine in our old high school art & lit magazine. (Not that we’re old or anything…) So I thought some of you might like to see what kind of stuff I did as a teen ~ ancient history now (even before the rubber cement period) ~ when #2 pencils and I were starting to move into a more serious relationship.
Computers are magical. Young designers don’t know how good they have it. Back when the earth’s crust was cooling and dinosaurs roamed freely, there existed the most horrendous, antiquated processes for creating a finished design project.
I worshipped computers the minute they eliminated rubber cement and laborious hand-cut color separations. T-squares and triangles and type galleys. It was a downright primitive experience. The production aspect was neither fun nor a walk in the park, although you did acquire a fairly intimate relationship with the inner workings of color and tone and bandaids (for the exacto blade cuts).
With computers you can take a piece of handmade art and ~ *presto!* ~ it becomes digital, ready for use in a multitude of ways on a multitude of products.
Of course, there are varying levels of *presto!*, so that what looks clean and effortlessly polished is very often laboriously and painstakingly rendered behind the scenes.
I’ve recently been working with a great client on a project that falls precisely into this category. The end result is a pretty picture, but getting to that point is literally a matter of connecting hundreds of little dots, like these:
And a strange thing happens when you get into a groove like that ~ it starts to take over your subconscious mind. It’s kind of like when I draw a lot, I see things in shapes and shadows, lights and darks … except in this case I start seeing things as if they were pieces of vector art**.
Just the other day while driving a winding stretch of road, my mind decided to imagine the curves as they would be drawn on the computer. It was a pretty weird sensation. I wonder if dreaming in vector is next.
Dreams or no dreams, the laborious elements of yesteryear’s graphic design have really only changed in terms of the tools used. Personally, I still adore illustrating classically with a pencil or paintbrush ~ but for design, I remain ever grateful that paste-ups hit the dust long ago.
**in brief, for those who may not know, vector art is the use of computerized lines and anchor points to create shapes that in the dark ages would have been done by hand.
proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.
Pinwheels serve no purpose other than bringing smiles to children when the wind blows, spinning the wheel in a colorful dance, round and round ~ and that delight is purpose enough.
But there’s more … because the child’s delight brings us delight, so for a moment in time smiles spread like ripples in a pond.
I think we would all do well with more pinwheel moments ~ appreciating the dance of life’s colors, and delighting in other’s delight.
Smiles are sure to follow.
“every flower must grow through dirt.” ~ anonymous
I’m a patient person. I’ve even been accused of being too patient. Usually in good ways though, like being a patient listener, or patience with someone trying something new, or struggling to understand something.
But we all have our Achilles heels, and one of mine is “waiting”. Not necessarily waiting for the light to turn (okay, well sometimes…) or the pot to boil, but things like waiting in long lines ~ drives me up a wall ~ or waiting for people to follow through on a task, or being kept waiting for a scheduled meeting or call. I suppose it all has to with how we value our time.
So lately (among other things) I’ve been waiting for my newest book shipment to arrive from overseas… I’m feeling impatient! Impatient to get all the parts in place, get the wheel cogs turning and keep the ball rolling.
Then I remind myself… “all things in their right time”. (Maybe I should go back and read my “P” post on Patience). But still, it happens. We’re human. We aren’t perfect. And I am not patient every minute of every day. There, a confession.
It also reminds me that “every flower must grow through dirt.” Just like the one in the painting above, before it made its way to my canvas.
Some things are worth the wait, and worth some time spent in the dirt first. Sometimes, “waiting” is what’s needed… even if we don’t think so at the time.
proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.
This week’s inspiration came from a friend in Tennessee who saw a cool “P”, took a picture and sent it to me. I love the image, and imagine the inhabitants settling in, holding court and squawking defensively at the parking lot below.
And the thought it provoked is this: that life… wherever it calls home, wherever it thrives, feeds, flies, laughs, cries, loves … is precious. Yours, mine, the new baby’s, the old man’s, the birds in flight, the rivers and trees and fairies and whales and clouds and rocks and deserts and mountains and suns and moons.
It reminded me that life is a gift, a tapestry of twists and turns, of madness, hopes and dreams, offering a nest of precious treasures in sometimes unexpected places.
“Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.” ~ Erma Bombeck
These are some huge and seriously fantastic mangos. Fresh from the garden of an old friend in Florida ~ and trust me, you never tasted a mango so good.
Even so, I found a way to make them even better. Consider it a form of high art (if not just plain delicious).
/ Week #53 / © Patricia Saxton”]
And should this inspire you to indulge, I recommend savoring every spoonful.
