Summer 2023

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

A year ago I started selling at Portland Saturday Market and moved in with my boyfriend. It was a lot of change at once for a hermit but all very welcome. I had wanted to do the market in my 20s and at age 48 I finally got around to it. I had the best time. I wanted it to replace my day job and at the end of the market season I had to reflect on that goal. (cont. below)

It seemed the things I needed to do to make the market my living were moving me in the opposite direction of what I wanted artistically. My books are my greatest passion and they were only a tiny slice of the income I brought in. Also while all the market prep was fun it took up most of the time I used to have to paint. I decided to spend the coming year working on my books, getting deep into my abstract paintings and drawings, and hopefully finding a few indoor art sales that would be a good home for my work.

It’s been a busy and fulfilling year making 2 new books, working on 3 more new books, enjoying family life, traveling with my fellow to Greece and England, getting COVID, starting a new job that is a better fit for me than the old one, planting flowers and ferns. I found a couple new art sales I’m excited to apply to but would like to find more bookish events.

Even though I miss the market I am glad I decided to let it go for a while to collect my thoughts and feelings about art and money. I am all-for artists making money but for me the art needs to come first. In retrospect I wish I had gone there without needing to make money. To just show up with my books and a few original paintings and talk to people about how beautiful nature is. How beautiful humans are even though we don’t always act like it. I may still have taken this last year off, maybe I would have lost interest sooner but I think it would have moved me more in the right direction. I am contemplating whether I could have a re-do next year. I’ll keep you posted of course. Thanks so much for reading!

Week Night Studio

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

This has been my studio during my day job work nights latelyđź’ś I am enamored with simplicity so even though my closet is still crammed full of paintings and my project table is slightly organized chaos I love spending the evening on the couch with just colored pencils, a pen and a journal.

I don’t get to share everything from my workbooks because I journal in them a lot and that’s too personal to post but when I can share pages I will because I love seeing other people’s visual journals, workbooks and sketchbooks.

Little Books Explained

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers
In The Slough, Greeting Card Book by Alexandra Schaefers

I picked up In the Slough from PaperJam Press yesterday, it is now available in my new WooCommerce shop under the “Books” tab. I’m really excited about making more Little Books. It seemed like a good way for me to be able to do what I love most—illustrate my own nature poems into short books—while also providing something useful to others by making them card size and providing a place to write a note to a loved one in it.

These days we are rightfully tired of clutter, wary of collecting and gifting unnecessary junk and we want to reduce our negative impact on the environment. Since Little Books house heartfelt, intimate poems they can be seen and felt as a special gift while using very little extra resources than a traditional greeting card. They are presents for people we love who really don’t want more stuff. They are for people who love to give gifts but want responsible options.

These are printed on 100% recycled paper. I rode my bike to the shop to look over the proof and took the bus to pick up the finished copies. I even rode my bike to the post-office this morning to send out my first orders. I am going to try my best to keep up the alternative transportation theme so these books can have a hint of environmental stewardship added to their value.

I have a 50% off sale to celebrate the opening of my shop and the completion of my second Little Book, it runs through May 14th. I’d love to know what you think of this idea!

How to Start an Art Practice Without a lot of Supplies

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

I meet a lot of people who believe making art requires a lot of time, material, space and/or talent. Actually making art only requires one medium and a little passion. People make art just with their cell phone cameras these days and you don’t even have to be a photographer to do that. What interesting compositions could be made by framing one’s surrounds, what painterly moods could be expressed just capturing the light of a particular moment?

For more tactile people all one needs is paper and a pencil or pen. One could draw on the back of paper out of the recycle, buy a ream of copy paper, find a notebook laying around the house, pick up a sketchbook or notebook at the store, use the inside of paper bags.

My sketchbook is a ream of cotton bond paper, it’s more expensive than copy paper but its takes watercolor paint a little better and is still a lot cheaper than buying sketchbooks. I keep these in a three ring binder but no one needs to be that fancy even. A folder, manila envelope, box. One could scan their drawings onto a computer, post them (or not) on social media, a blog maybe and then recycle the paper copies.

Obviously there is nothing wrong with buying a nice sketchbook or having a lot of art supplies. I’m just trying to make things as simple and flexible as possible so anyone who is stuck inventing entry barriers for themselves may be inspired to let that go. Drawing is the best foundation for all art in my opinion. Even if what you want is to make giant oil paintings beginning to draw will take you about halfway to that goal.

Honestly, if you don’t start to draw you may never make a single painting. If you keep a drawing practice the stage is set. You will, sooner than you thought possible, start painting. Or get carried off in some other art direction more fulfilling than you ever could have imagined.

So what are you going to draw on your little stack of paper or the notebook you just pulled out of the bottom of the desk drawer? Even if it’s a little uninspired notebook, half-empty, with lines and old to-do lists it’s going to become a magical art-book the moment you make one attempt to express yourself in it.

Drawings can be made in a few minutes, we don’t need to wait for a lot of time to sit down and draw. Commercials, waiting for someone to arrive or text back, coffee breaks. Every time we see a social media post that irritates us it should be like a drinking game but instead it’s our cue to put down the phone and grab a piece of paper.

Starting a new thing and finding time can be hard, I won’t deny that. We don’t have get mad at ourselves or our circumstances. Nor to we have to get mad at ourselves for getting mad at ourselves. The moment we notice we haven’t drawn for a few weeks is the moment to congratulate ourselves for giving passion enough of a presence to remember. The moment we feel frustrated at how many other things we have to do is the moment to have gratitude that we have a strong passion that is going to take us on an amazing adventure even if it seems a little slow compared to the movies we love to watch.

Some people know what they want to draw already. Faces, cats, dishware, shoes, gardens, boats, birds, abstracts…some people know what they love that they want to talk about with art. Go to it. Do not obligate yourself to be good, it is more important to try, to learn. Whatever your drawings look like, trust that they are beautiful because you took the time to make them. Because they are a product of and catalyst for your passion. Because deciding to make art without anyone else’s permission or approval is a subversive act of faith in the worth of your life.

You can worry about making your drawings “good” later. Even better, you can continue to cultivate your voice and discover more of your own beauty.

Some people don’t know what they want to draw, they just know they like art and want to make their own. No problem. Draw something near you. Draw something in your imagination. Draw something that seems like something you would like to draw. Doodle, scribble, put the pencil down on the paper and make some marks. Get to know the marks your hand likes to make. You can decide later what to draw, the important thing is to start. Let yourself start the thing you want to do. Let it be incredibly imperfect. Let it be a tiny seed that looks nothing like the grand oak you would like it to be.

A Strange Amount of Courage

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

Cascade Head South Trail is a fairy tale staircase of exposed roots climbing through a cavern of giant spruce trees and berry thickets into the meadows that overlook the ocean.

The forest light grows dim as I walk back down the hill. Swainson’s Thrushes are filling the wood with their mystic arpeggios and sometimes it sounds like there is one right next to the trail. I stop and try to spot some in the tall leafy brush to no avail. They are good at hiding, being still, throwing their voices.

Around a bend I startle one into noisy wing beats and watch it fly deeper into the brush. Then one flies up the trail and lands on a tree in plain sight. I spot it in my binoculars long enough to see the brown spots across its breast but it takes off before I can focus.

The light continues to fade so I forget about spotting birds and listen instead to the spiraling songs coming from every direction, the water-drop calls traded back and forth.

Once, a coworker asked me if I knew which species of bird made a particular song. Before he even began his description, I knew that he must be talking about a Swainson’s Thrush because of the wonder in his eyes. He had clearly been touched by something shimmery that transcended the roughness of the world.

Down the trail a ways I hear a Varied Thrush sing, the eerie harmonic of its simple one note song drifting through the woods. If my coworker had been asking about a Varied Thrush, his eyes would have held awe and a little apprehension after encountering the seedy underworld this bird had given him a glimpse of by parting his thoughts like a heavy velvet curtain.

I don’t want to leave. But a few days from now at home in a seemingly unrelated conversation I will learn something about harmonics while talking to a friend.

Men are so attractive when they share their expertise, I say explaining my latest crush.

Humans are attractive when they are in their purpose, my friend replies. He’s right, intellectual prowess is not what I find attractive about this guy, its passion. He spent his life immersed in the things he loves and now seems deeply imbued with them.

I consider my own passions and decide it is not a thing to double check or assess rationally in terms of what I can give the world. We have a right to make our lives matter to ourselves, even if they matter to no one else.

It seems like a small thing. But for some of us it requires a strange amount of courage to choose—to believe our passion will be a touching harmonic, even if it only floats through the far woods, occasionally touching a dusk traveler who slips out of their thoughts to love the seedy, unplanned life they so elegantly inhabit.

Having Tea with the Artist’s Existential Dilemma

Posted on by Alexandra Schaefers

The other day I was perusing the internet when I read this beautiful quote by Courtney Martin on OnBeing’s Instagram, Make relationships that are reciprocal, not transactional. Makes lives that aren’t easy, but rife with good material. Make art that matters.

Inspired I looked up Martin and read a transcript from a commencement speech she made about the challenges of being an artist.

In one spot Martin talked about self-loathing and—not being the first time I’ve heard a creative person talk about self-loathing as a regular part of the journey—I decided to give the issue some thought.

My goal has always been to eradicate negative feelings toward myself. It’s a fight that emboldens it’s own enemy and becomes quickly futile. But what if these feelings are just part of the creative ecology? Not that all artists suffer internally, but that there is a required quota many of us have been assigned to. Or maybe an intense desire for honesty gets transformed into a plague of self-loathing for those that carry even a tiny seed of self-doubt.

It occurred to me to try a different approach. Instead of responding to self-loathing by dismantling my entire life and value system down to bare dirt and intently questioning each scrap of wood and nail as I build it back up, maybe I could just invite the self-loathing to tea as I’ve heard some Buddhists do, inspired by stories of Buddha inviting his own demons to tea as an honored guests.

Hello Self-loathing, it is hard to be an artist today, what would you like to talk about?

Perhaps I could have some influence if I take the time to make friends with this state of mind. Eventually I could level with it: I know you’d like to take this opportunity to scour every thought I’ve ever had to see if I am the real thing but I can assure you that it’s not possible to know and doesn’t matter. I am not strong enough to be something else, you are stuck being an artist and possibly a fraud. Is there something less existential you might enjoy doing today?

In the past I’ve benefited from a similar exercise I learned in one of Cheri Huber’s many books on mediation practice. When I became mired in melancholy I would sit down and write from the voices of the sorry feelings. It was quite amazing. Emotions that seemed overwhelming and debilitating would boil down to very simple issues once I let them rant for a while: You haven’t done anything social all week, do you hate me or what? That’s an easy fix once I see it clearly and then I feel like a human again.

Another example: I am really stressed out about that class I have to teach next week and I am dreading doing the prep.

It is easier to negotiate with a voice than a feeling: You’ve gotten a lot of feedback that would suggest you are good at teaching. But also, I don’t care if you bomb this class, I’ll still be here for you. Remember the last three times I avoided doing class prep but once I got started it was fun?

It’s still hard to get started but it’s easier after airing the discontent and worry. I also have more time to do the prep when I feel I can stop planning how to get a loan to build a tiny house in the field at my mom’s as any good failure would do.

I imagine many healthy people have these conversations in their heads automatically before they bog down without really being aware of it. Also, I’m not convinced this would help someone with clinical depression but it works well enough for me to suggest it.

There is a gift, I’m sure, in a propensity toward self-doubt. All of our challenges have the power to make us compassionate, to make us more resilient and capable. But most of all they are the terrain before us and we have a right to be intrigued with our path instead of worrying about how to get to the place we think we should be.