I think we are there

I know you’re thinking that you’ve heard that before. My husband looked over the images and decided which one I should use to make my recycle piece. Plus we decided that if this is a memory the streetcar should be new and not rusted. 

So here’s the image of the memory. The memory is the hills of Pittsburgh, the steel mills, and of course the streetcar that was the 35 Shannon Library car that I rode. The scene is not accurate for the route, but this is a memory not true to reality. The image needs some editing that I will do when I start making the piece.  I suppose this may end up being 18 by 24 so the details won’t be so tiny. I will print out the pattern at 16 by 20 and 18 by 24 to visualize what it will look like. I prefer 16 by 20 just in terms of the work involved. 

A couple versions of the image follow. So this is where I am and what I’ve decided to do. I was so obsessed with the rust idea that I was stuck on it and couldn’t let it go. Now I’m just doing the memory of Pittsburgh. No more rust, no ghosts. The new streetcar will be easier to create vs the rusted one. So I have made my life simpler. 

Thanks for reading.

Chris

Stressed and ready to throw in the towel

Is art supposed to be stressful? I suppose that it could just be for me. Also has how I work through this gotten worse with more uncertainty plaguing me? It would certainly seem so. I don’t know which is worse the struggles with the surreal piece or this recycle piece. I’m usually a problem solver, but lately that does not appear to be the case. 

I wanted initially to work with the photo of the rusted decaying streetcars. When I determined that they were not Pittsburgh streetcars that immediately created a problem. I appear to be lost ever since and trying lots of ideas to get out of this dilemma. It’s like throwing darts at a dartboard blindfolded. Too many darts and no real solution. I’m not even sure what I want right now. What do I want this piece to say?

The only idea I came up with is a rusted streetcar with a new version of that streetcar as a ghost. Both are part of the past, but one is worn out and the other is the ghost of a memory. So I developed this idea. The ghost in this one is the rusted streetcar. That’s not exactly my idea. 

So I tried this. A rusted streetcar with a ghost. A distant steel mill in the background. Steel mills are gone from Pittsburgh, too. I remember them being there as a kid. This one AI did as plastic bags. 

Or should the mill be a ghost, too?

Still plenty to work out here. I need to see what a real steel mill looked like. Is the ghost streetcar enough of a ghost? Am I set with this idea for once upon a time? Who knows. A new idea always seems good until it isn’t. 

Am I worried on how to do this in plastic bags? Not really.

My husband likes these images. 

Thanks for reading. 

Chris

I’m so sorry, Uncle Albert

With the ideas for the recycle show in my last blog I must have thought I was the Hallmark channel or Thomas Kinkade. If you know me at all you will know that that is not me. I have a more gritty style than that. That is why I initially was drawn to the decaying streetcar photo. I had to go back to it and figure out what to do with it. Here’s the photo. I will post tomorrow about what I’m thinking now. I’m sure my friend, Idaho Beauty (https://idahobeautyquilts.blogspot.com/) will be happy about my change of heart. Thanks for reading.

Chris

I think we are at the final version

I won’t go into the details of how I argued with 3 different AI models yesterday to get this final image for the recycle show. But I think I’m there. I wanted a shorter look down the street. I wanted the girl (me) closer. I wanted the streetcar closer. I wanted the car stop sign hanging from the building which is more accurate than on a pole. I wanted the stuff at the end of the street to be faint. So to change all of that it was very interesting.  Think the final size will be 16 by 20 so I’ll be able to buy a standard size frame for it. Any editing at this point will happen during construction. At least I now have a plan that I’m happy with.

The perspective is pretty good. The streetcar might be a bit large, but that’s alright.

Once Upon a Time in Steel City

In the 1960’s, the streetcar was already a big part of my life—taking me to Saturday art classes at the Carnegie Museum, to school, and into the city to feel grown up. 

On winter nights like this, I would wait for the Shannon-Library, hands in the pockets of my wool coat, listening for the rumble on the tracks long before I saw the light.

When that red car came into view — wet rails shining, windows glowing with warm light — it meant I was on my way somewhere. It meant the city was still looking out for me.

The car from my memory is gone now. The tracks on that street are paved over.

I made this piece from what we throw away — plastic shopping bags and used dryer sheets. There is something fitting about that. We let the streetcar of my youth disappear, but the plastic stays. If the plastic is going to be here forever, it might as well hold onto something good.

OR

Last Streetcar Home

Once upon a time, in Pittsburgh in 1965, the streetcar was already a part of my life—taking me to Saturday art classes at the Carnegie Museum and into the city to feel grown up. A few years later it would take me to school, too.

On winter nights like this, I would wait for the Shannon-Library, hands in the pockets of my wool coat, listening for the rumble on the tracks long before I saw the light.

When that red car came into view — wet rails shining, windows glowing with warm light — it meant I was on my way somewhere. It meant the city was still looking out for me.

That car from my memory is gone now. The tracks on that street are paved over.

I made this piece from what we throw away — plastic shopping bags and used dryer sheets. There is something fitting about that. We let the streetcar of my youth disappear, but the plastic stays. If the plastic is going to be here forever, it might as well hold onto something good.

Thanks for reading.

Chris