Collecting Color: Your Local Palette
Art, color, and intention
Taos is full of plein air painters forever seeking to capture the beautiful northern New Mexico Light.
I am not a plein air painter, but the light and colors of my local environment still impact me and my work.
Getting up at dawn to bird watch these past few weeks, I’ve also been collecting colors from nature to inspire my latest fiber experiments.
As the dormancy of late winter transitions into early spring, you can really see the colors that wait inside things: pinks pulsing inside apparent tans and beiges; reds and purples inside browns, creating taupes; the barest whisper of blues and greens inside all variety of greys.
Now that we’re in May, the colors are deepening. The oranges and reds are kicking in, the various greens of grasses and leaves have started to emerge, and the white and pink tree blossoms begin to slightly fade into creams and browns before drifting to the ground.
Exhaust Dyes
This past winter, I spent months slowly creating a natural dye library, and my favorite surprise was the tender, nuanced colors created by my “exhaust dye” baths.
Exhaust dye baths are what’s left over after an initial dyeing. Often, there is more than one color living within the dye matter—and as one hue gets exhausted, another emerges. So every natural dye exhaust bath is different from the last.
As I’ve been collecting various Taos color combinations with my camera phone, I realized how much these exhaust bath hues match the palette of my local early spring landscape. Now I’m endlessly arranging my swatches into different groupings to match the palettes I have been collecting.
For my natural dyes notebook, I’ve taken photos of these various swatches combinations and paired them with a photo of the palette that informed them. I show a few examples of these pairings below. (Each color range photo is placed below an image of the local landscape that inspired it.)
I’m itching to make something with these small swatches—especially now that they consciously reflect the various color palettes that surround me. Perhaps these swatch families will become tiny fabric collages, a small wall-hanging or tiny flags. Or maybe a little handmade fabric book.
The Joy of Intention
Bringing a clear intention to inform my art process—no matter how small—gives me something to stand on as I explore and experiment—especially when creating something non-representational or abstract.
Creating abstract fiber pieces with these color combinations that are inspired by my local landscape will imbue whatever I make with the clarity of that intention—even if no one knows but me.
I feel like the role of intention in art making doesn’t get discussed much out in the world of online abstract art instruction where creating is treated like a kind of spontaneous free-for-all which can result, I think, in a lot of art about nothing.
But in my experience, a clear intention—no matter how small—can provide just enough structure to make the play and exploration process of non-representational art making much more productive and fulfilling. It also gives greater meaning and purpose to your artistic practice itself, which is no small thing.
Do you agree? Disagree? What’s your opinion?
P.S. You’re Invited!
You, my friend, are cordially invited to the next Creative Change-Makers Zoom event.
It’s on Thursday, May 22 at 5pm Mountain—so that’s 4pm Pacific, 6pm Central, and 7pm Eastern.
This zoom call will be a making party. We’ll be creating tiny protest signs to put in unexpected places—such as the grocery store, gas station restrooms, the bus stop, the laundromat, and more.
While these are super easy to make, sometimes it just doesn’t happen when you’re on your own. Which is why we’re having a making party. :)
And no matter how easy it may be, I’ll still provide examples and support so it’ll be fun and easy and you can rest assured you can’t do it wrong.
So pour a glass of wine and come create! Let’s eat snacks and play music!
I’m also thinking of ways we can share photos afterward of where in our communities we post our tiny signs. That way, we can create some momentum, cheer each other on, and feel the supportive togetherness of the group even as we take actions individually.
And maybe our guerrilla signage will inspire other people to make tiny signs or call their senators.
Wouldn’t it be fun if tiny handmade signs became a thing? Ya never know.
Details
This making party is FREE for paid subscribers. If that’s you, you can register for the call using the link at the top or bottom of this email.
If you’d like to join us, a paid subscription is only 36.00 for the year. (And next month’s Creative Change-Makers call will be a zine-making workshop, which should be loads of fun.)
Just click on the subscribe button directly below the comment button to read about your options and see if it’s for you.
Read more about how the call will work here.
In the meantime, feel free to click that heart icon below or leave a comment about the workshop or about colors, landscapes, natural dyeing. I’d love to hear from you!
Sarah, i’m really blown away by the beauty of these photo combinations of your swatches and the landscapes. Seeing your sets of swatches enables me to better see all the colors in the landscape. And I think of myself as somebody who pays attention to color in the landscape, as a lover of nature. And yet, what you did here makes me see more. I find that fascinating. and it was beautiful and inspiring.
I would love to see you work a collection of tiny abstract fiber landscape abstracts with those fabulous fabrics. Of course, I will love seeing whatever you create, my gifted and giving friend. Now, about that intention thing . . . I'm looking forward to another intuitive abstract painting class, starting Saturday, and I am loving the way you articulated having intention - it's a good counterbalance for that push for spontaniety that is so front and center in class. Great brain food in this post, my dear. Thank you.