Moon Landing (as seen on TV)

Portrait of the artist...

Very little has changed...

Portrait of the artist... {top left} aged 3 and a purple crayon {top right} aged 6 on Peaks Island, Maine {bottom left} aged 8 rocking black boots and plaid in Kerhonkson, NY {bottom right} post grad school with a cappuchino in Rome, Italy

Somewhere along the line...

Foggy horizons seen from an evening Amtrak train...

Any Other

As if it is different any other place or at any other time.

A recent find in my endless summer wanderings. It seemed fitting for Friday the 13th. Did you know that any time the 1st of the month is on a Sunday, a Friday will fall on the 13th?

Found Lines

Empty hangers, found lines, snapshots...

Sleepless.
The constant stream of traffic outside my window. It is oddly comforting. It pulses, it has become part of my rhythm. But tonight I am wide awake.
A snapshot...

Walking by crocuses / running past the first daffodils / the Charles / one river reminds me of another / Rome / Renaissance faces / overlapping edges / the shape of things / that particular blue / ovals / the smell of printing ink / copper / editions / paper / portraits of portraits / cousins / lentils / wanderlust / 222 / plural / airships / silence / letterpress / New York City / Whitney Biennial / elegant bullshit / new jeans / never wearing socks / Downton Abbey / used bookshops in alleyways / vintage Penguin Classics / the luxury of a novel / a new bed / wandering / old friends at the other end of the line / second chances / clementines / monochromatic / proceed with caution / an almost straight line / dreaming fool / finding my own way

Doing what you love

The artist as a child...with a purple crayon.

Somewhere along the line I stopped doing what I loved. I got caught up in thinking about what I am doing, what I should be doing, and I lost a vital connection to my work. Over the last several months I have felt increasingly indifferent to my work, a feeling that is painful and confusing and ever so murky. I got stuck in my head. It wasn’t the same familiar feeling of “artist’s block,” it was something else. Something I couldn’t name.

I need to start drawing again.
I need to remember why I love line...
and printmaking...
and booking making...
I need to start doing what I love.
Again.

Sixty-Eight

Keith Richards' hands by Francesco Carrozzini

Happy Birthday to Keith Richards...

As he says at every concert, "It's good to be here, it's good to be anywhere." So play some Rolling Stones today and toast the man who will probably outlive us all.

Earthquake Stikman

A Stikman outside the International Center of Photography on 8th Ave in New York City on the day of the earthquake.

Simple magic

The Bushnell Park Carousel, Hartford, CT.

When I was a kid my father used to take me to the magnificent carousel at Bushnell Park in Hartford, Connecticut. It was built in 1914 and still runs today. When I was little I had two favorite horses: one was an elaborately carved horse in knights armor, and the other was a beautiful hardword horse with a flowing chestnut mane. Both of them were jumper horses-- the horses that went up and down as the carousel went round and round. I loved it. It was a magical place.

I went back today with my father and he bought me two tickets so I could ride my favorites. As the third bell rang and the carousel started up, and the lights whirled, and the organ played-- I realized the magic was still there.

Friday Inspiration: Intersections

 Intersecting silhouettes.

Happy Birthday

Today is Alexander Calder's 113th Birthday. I sent an email to my father this morning informing him of that fact. When I got home later this afternoon I found the most delightful response. My father bought a little cake for "Steggy," Calder's monumental sculpture in Hartford, Connecticut.

I've loved Calder since I was very small and I spent many a summer day running around underneath Steggy.

Steggy wanted cake, and I can't stop smiling.


(photos courtesy of the best father ever, Daniel Castelli)

Sleepless

I am captivated by this image I found in the Library of Congress archives.

It's too hot to sleep and my mind is restless and wandering...

biplanes / looking up / negative space / London / nectarines / semiotics / September / lithography / grids / Holga / carousel horses / greyscale / Sherlock Holmes / home / the city / holding my breath / sketchbooks / the Charles River / back porches / tanned shoulders / mix tapes / red / W.S. Merwin / humming birds / palazzo / avocados / envelopes / eyes / hazelnuts / rabbits / absence / presence

Sketching

Sketching in Fort Point on a very hot afternoon.

Specimens

I spent a cold, grey afternoon at the Harvard Museum of Natural History. I'm fascinated by how the specimens are organized and labelled. Especially the extensive collection of hummingbirds. They are elegant and slightly disturbing at the same time.

Sometimes in order to understand the shape of things, I have to draw around them.

And I currently have the song Skip the Charades by Cold War Kids stuck in my head.


sketchbook copyright Kate Castelli 2011

My constant

Everything begins and ends in a sketchbook.

Angelus

Ponte Sant'Angelo, Rome, taken with my 35mm Holga

Friday Inspiration: Layers

Rome--

The day I got lost on purpose and sketched.

I want to go back so badly it hurts.

Friday Inspiration: In the Beginning

The artist as a child...wandering around the galleries of the Wadsworth Atheneum. 

Art has been my life for as long as I can remember. I feel unconditionally at home in museums and galleries. They are one of the only places I can truly breathe. If I ever need to calm down or clear my head or escape for a while, an hour at a museum does wonders. It is both humbling and inspiring-- museums are my cathedrals.

Friday Inspiration: A desire to be elsewhere

 

Andre Kertész,  Champs-Élysées 1927-9

Chairs...

Chairs in Paris.

I love this photograph.