In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Harper Hazelmare (she/they/y’all) will be sharing their piece Current Dream. Harper took the time to participate in a Q+A with The Layered Onion, but before we share the dialogue, here’s a little bit more about Harper:
Harper Hazelmare is a writer of cautionary tales and mental health articles, a professional Witch with her own company, and a keeper of a community apothecary. Their life in scenic painting took them into visual artistry with acrylics, watercolors, graphite, and a deep love of charcoal.
Harper is most influenced by the visual art of Kim Noble and Anders Zanichkowsky; with writing, their touchstones are Chuck Palahniuk and Shirley Jackson. She currently resides in the Midwest with her spouse and their two geriatric cats.
Now let’s get into the Q+A portion! Today, we’ll be discussing Current Dream. By way of introduction, Harper says “This piece has echoes of a Jennifer Dodson creation, Copy + Variant, coming from her series exploring neurology in transition.”
Harper Hazelmare, Current Dream, Charcoal and graphite.
What mediums did you use for this piece? I know you are a fan of multiple!
Charcoal and graphite, my favorite combo!
When you look at this piece, what stands out most to you or draws you back in?
I still see the face in it which I originally saw upon completion; this is a subconscious theme in my work. When making visual art, there are usually 2-5 alters present with us co-creating simultaneously or taking turns—something which lends itself to “hidden” discoveries within each piece, some of which are quite tiny. However, the main draw for me in Current Dream is the stark lines, like a person struggling to practice control and commitment.
You also write mental health articles—do your written and visual artwork play together and expand on each other?
They tend to be miles apart, actually! I’ve gotten feedback on how approachable my written work is while our visual art is consistently intense and abstract. That said, I’m launching a new book project this month and considering a bookmaking side project to go with it. Stay tuned!
Neurology in transition is a complex and inspiring topic. You mention you have some background in science, was that part of the inspiration for this piece?
Neurology in transition is ASTOUNDING. My background is in medicine plus I’ve been committed to recovering from two TIAs and the education/retraining that warrants; I’ve had a front row seat to my brain’s on-going evolution. But don’t we all? I applied this same methodology toward understanding our DID and life as a system, life as a multiple. Much like the evolution from TIAs, and being human in general, our system keeps expanding and contracting as well—we’re currently in our fifth generation.
Is there any website or social media page(s) you’d like us to share for folks interested in seeing more of your work? People can find my writing online at Medium and other work at my company Brown Horse Herbal.
Thank you for your responses and sharing Current Dream!
In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Dee Rovetta (she/her/hers) will be sharing her piece you paint like a child. Dee was kind enough to share some thoughts about the piece, but before we jump into the Q+A segment, let’s learn a little more about Dee.
Dee Rovetta is an artist currently residing in Raleigh, NC with her boyfriend and two cats. She finds comfort and relief in experimentation with several mediums and bright, loud colors. Her journey as an artist began in February 2020 on a whim, starting with watercolor and quickly moving to acrylic; now her favorite medium. She believes in making with intention, being introspective, jumping right into new territories without a second thought, and not expecting too much of yourself in the process except peace.
Topics like existing with stress, anxiety, and internal pressure to feel happy are discussed regularly through her use of organic drips of paint, haphazard but intentional lines, fingerpainted bursts of color, and unruly marks with markers. A longtime advocate for self-mental health, holding a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro and currently pursuing her Master’s in Clinical Mental Health Counseling from Walden University, Dee hopes she can inspire those who feel the same way she does through her honest artistic journey.
Now, let’s jump into the Q+A portion. This is what Dee has to say as an introduction to you paint like a child:
It was genuinely a lot of fun to make. I usually don’t like cleaning up messes I make while painting but the whole thing — seeing how the paint mixed together when I washed my hands — it was a full circle moment, like I had finally closed the chapter on a particularly miserable part of my life and turned it into something to grow from. Bye preschool teacher me, hello budding artist and counselor me type stuff.
Dee Rovetta, you paint like a child. acrylic, paint pen and gold metallic marker on 36×48 canvas. August 2021.
I saw that this piece is just one of several works that make up your Inner Child series (link to check out more of the series here). You describe the series as a way of “processing your childhood,” using techniques like finger-painting thoughtfully to underscore and explore the boldness and curiosity of your younger self. Where did you find inspiration to begin work on this particular series?
The inspiration for the Inner Child series came from my time as an assistant preschool teacher. I taught all ages from infants to pre-K for about 2 years up until June 2020. I was in charge of lesson planning for a week while the head teacher was on vacation, so I remember being super excited to finally do my own thing with the class. I’ve never been a fan of those cutesy “art projects” for kids that end up being the teacher telling each kid where to glue something or only use this color here, etc. it’s very restrictive and I could tell all the kids were bored out of their minds — I would be too if I had to do art every day but only how someone older than me said to do it!
Long story short, I read my two year old class a book called Little Blue and Little Yellow by Leo Lioni: plainly speaking, it was about two colors, both different in their own ways, who became friends and, in turn, became a completely different color to the shock of the people around them.
I let them finger paint with blue and yellow for art that day and, I kid you not, every single child had a distinct way of working with the paint. Some didn’t mix the colors at all and wanted to wipe their hands after smudging each other, some covered the entire paper in color, and some decided to paint themselves instead of the paper. This was around the time where I was first starting to paint myself. The series is an ongoing project, mainly because I see our inner child as needing nurturing throughout our lives, not just at certain points.
you paint like a child was the first time I decided to paint with my hands. I felt comforted and weirded out by how good it felt to just spread paint where I wanted it to be, wipe my hands, and continue with the next color. I like using paints that have a “ketchup bottle” type packaging (like LUKAS acrylic studio paints!) so I can just squirt out blobs of color on the canvas and then figure out where it wants to be.
You mention the importance of intentional making in your work, but also the critical element of being able to jump right in. To me, your phrase of “haphazard but intentional lines” really captures this. For me, I often find these concepts at odds in my own work. I’ll often be introspective to the point where I become afraid of beginning and being able to represent my ideas—which is something I’m really looking to work on. How do you balance these two elements in your creative process? How does that translate into your artmaking in the moment?
My definition of intention isn’t just limited to knowing what marks you’re going to make or where the color is going to be placed, it’s about listening to yourself too. A lot of the time, I genuinely have no idea how a piece is going to come out because the process involves me not knowing and being ok with that, in a way. That’s where the haphazard comes in. Sometimes I’ll look at something I did and be so critical of it, and then once I’ve done a few more layers or added details, it makes sense and I’m more welcoming of it than before. Right now I’m at a point where I don’t know what I want to make next. It’s an exploratory period, so the haphazard-ness of it all has taken over the intention. I intend to explore, that’s it!
What a great way to think about intention—a definition that allows you not to have all the answers (who does, anyhow?). I want to switch gears and touch on another medium you work in…
You also have a collection of beautiful handmade earrings. Can you describe a little bit about how your process differs from your work on the canvas to this collection?
Thank you so much for your questions and compliments, I really appreciate it! My earring making process is a little different than my work on canvas — I tend to work with polymer clay when I’m frustrated and need to bang on things/chop things up but painting is my respite, my place to calm down.
Thank you so much for your thoughtful responses. If you would like to see more of Dee’s work (and I can strongly recommend that you do!), please check out her Instagram @rovettadesignco and website here.
In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Kat Gibbons (she/her/hers) will be sharing her piece The Dying Seed. Here’s a sneak peak of what Kat has to say about this piece: “I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback about this piece which is what I want from this series. If people can associate beauty with taboo female experiences, I have achieved something in my mind.”
But before we jump into the Q+A about this particular piece, let’s learn a little more about Kat!
Kat Gibbons, The Dying Seed, Multimedia tapestry hung from reclaimed driftwood
Kat Gibbons is a self-taught artist and Educational Therapist working with exceptional and at-risk youth through the arts. Her current obsession is tapestry weaving, which she developed during the pandemic. This was a response to the need for sensory experiences that were calming. She is currently working on a series of tapestries about menopause and a series of portraits about children’s mental health. Her past work includes portrait painting, illustration, sculpture, photography and other textile pieces. Katherine joined The Layered Onion because art has saved her life from a Major Depressive Disorder, Anxiety and Trauma. In an effort to continue supporting the children with whom she creates, Katherine wants to expand her connections and understanding of working artists who have also struggled with mental well-being and be a supportive participant in the lives of other artists. She has a strong desire to bring light to the undeniable need for the arts in the lives of all children but especially children who have exceptional needs and gifts.
Knowing a little more about Kat, let’s jump into the Q+A about The Dying Seed.
What are the mediums you used for this piece?
On this piece I used yarn, cotton string, dyed roving, a feather and the white hair in the middle is still a mystery. I almost always hang the pieces from driftwood and this piece I got on the shores of Lake Michigan.
What was your inspiration to begin work on this piece?
My inspiration for this piece was initiated by the use of bright colors but I always have to balance them with muted tones. I am always inspired by wool and am trying to work mostly with wool and wool blends. I can speak more to the theme in the next question.
In your description of the piece, you mention that it is part of a series. Would you be willing to speak a little more about the series this work belongs to?
I had been thinking for some time about doing a series of tapestries about menopause because those of us experiencing it are often living in a space of mystery and anger about how little people still know or how to discuss it, as it is still very taboo. So, I began a series and am currently working on the third piece, which is quite large.
I think I see roving towards the center of the piece, which really adds a lot of texture and movement, especially when placed against the spun yarn. How did you choose your yarn colors and thicknesses?
There is this wonderful recycled art supplies store in Boulder, Colorado called Art Parts and often I like to just wander and see what is available. Often they will have raw sheep’s wool or odd bits of fur or hair for sale and I always go for that. However, I began felting years ago and yarn stores are addictive with all the colors and textures. I try to choose yarn from farms and small places in the UK, Ireland or New Zealand. I am a forager by nature so I always incorporate bits of wood, bone or feathers into my pieces. I tend to love muted, natural colors in contrast with bright colors, which have specific meaning for me. My last series was Landsape Tapestries, so lots of blues and browns and greens. I don’t really know where each piece will take me but I do like to have a lot of texture and encourage people to feel the tapestries with their hands.
Were there any specific challenges you ran into while creating the piece? How did you work through them?
I am always challenged by how tight I can make the piece with all the different things going on and hanging is always a challenge because driftwood is curvy and bent but eventually it becomes its own special piece. I just work with it and let it hang for some time, watching it to see how it is becoming.
Is there a website or any social media pages you’d like me to share if folks are interested in seeing more of your work?
In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Linda is sharing her poem entitled “Stuck.”
Stuck
The gale force holds
My hair up defiant
To gravity.
My feet covered
Completely in debris,
Weeds and trash.
Battered and beaten by
Raindrops unleashed from
Angry clouds.
Morning unfurls a murk,
Dense mist pondering the
Frost soon here.
Waiting after many
Attempts to let the story
Flow once more.
In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Linda is sharing her poem entitle “Falling.”
Morning light slow to join
The birds and mammals whose
Day began.
Clouds of charcoal tell them
Time has come for gathering
Before too late.
Welcomed rain jostles
nuts and berries resistant to fall
before.
Cool breezes spur action
After long, warm days
Allow rest.
Join us @thelayeredonion. Everyone has a story to tell.
In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Eva is sharing her the process behind creating her knitting pattern “Crownlet.”
I’ve been knitting for over a decade now. I like to define my knitting career in terms of milestones (first scarf, first time knitting in the round, first project with cabling, etc.). One such milestone was designing my own pattern. I was new to pattern design, so I first started this project with a lot of research. And I mean a lot. I think I still have a huge folder of bookmarks in my browser that originate from this project.
Eventually, I decided to center my design around the S2KPO decrease. For those familiar with knitting, this involves slipping two stitches together knitwise, knitting one, and then passing the two slipped stitches over the knit stitch. This results in a centered double decrease. I decided to use this decrease to create a cute little crown pattern.
Due to a math snafu, this first iteration of the pattern did not turn out as I hoped. But that’s OK. I needed to keep reminding myself that commercial patterns are test knit by dozens of folks before being published. In the meantime, I’ll unravel and start again.
Here, this image shows the crownlet (iteration 1 in orange) as modeled by a stuffed animal. I took the opportunity to try designing the front page of the digital pattern. I added some fun text to encourage folks to try it out.
In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Emma is sharing her poem “Knot.”
Knot
What is a knot
But a spot that stands
Out. Apart.
It can be in your back,
On your neck, in your stomach
It can govern you,
Own you, Envelop you
Until you are a swirl of feeling,
A canvas stretched thin,
Laying on the ground.
Join us @thelayeredonion.com. Everyone has a story to tell.
Sometimes a prompt can help with writer’s block. In a recent creative writing class we were asked to write about a meal in 200 words with an emphasis on senses. We would encourage anyone to give it a go and share their version on social media with #thelayeredonion.
Below, Linda, a member of The Layered Onion team, shares her response to the prompt.
I closed my eyes briefly, opening to the bountiful display of colors, textures and cacophony of voices arguing about the lost football game. Inhaling deeply, hoping, no desperate to remember when the juicy turkey thighs and legs held that hint of bourbon, maple brine crisped to the skin from the grill. I shuddered—bleach. I muffled back the nausea. Another meal ruined by trying to recapture the essence held hostage somewhere in my body. Why did all the complex smells take on the grit of bathroom cleaners. The last place I want to eat a meal.
These eight months without smell and taste torture my days. Mostly, I stick to the frozen mangos whipped like orange sherbet or the piece of toast made with my homemade fuji apple butter. The cinnamon and clove just barely present despite the additional tablespoons dumped in the crockpot as the apples begin gurgling to solids.
Holidays are tough. The aromas are memories. Dad basting the turkey. Mom creating from her garden all the rest. Carrying on their traditions keeps my parents with me. Now, the loss feels greater. Will I ever get them back? The doctor claims someday.
In the Artwork Spotlight series of blog posts, the Layered Onion highlights a specific work by an artist in the community. These works could range from short stories to visual art to music and more!
Today, Linda is sharing her poem “Chrysanthemum.”
Chrysanthemum
Tears fall gently from above,
Nourishing the life still
Preparing below.
Wet feet put to bed with
Frost stalling new
Growth above.
Your gift in 1970 and
Fifty years later.
Mums the memory of
Your time with us.
An annual reminder of
Your charity to many.
Amber, yellow, orange and
Maroon. The colors of October.
The colors of you.
Emma, never forget the soul
That embodies the name.
Universal, you are whole.
Do you have artwork you want to share? Join us at The Layered Onion. Everyone has a story to tell.
