Three In - Art comes Out - Vancouver, BC

"More of Me Comes Out When I Improvise"

-Edward Hopper

It's been 3 weeks since I planted my feet in Vancouver, which means the artwork created during the Between the Points Project is just about ready to ship out to the individuals involved.  It has been a rewarding experience and process being with these artworks for this long, and reflecting over the journey - the colors, textures, temperatures, interactions, etc.

I suppose, much like any trip, it is normal look back at the images created or the souvenirs procured during that time.  I've realized, however, that this journey and these experiences resonate within me without needing to refer back to a specific image.  Colors I didn't typically gravitate towards in my painting suddenly seem common on my painter's palette.

Images and motifs seem to seep their way into the artworks, almost without my conscious action.  When I look at the artwork after the fact, I feel the memory of that moment, of that place, come charging back to the forefront of my mind.

Nature, and natural elements and colors, have found there way into the artworks in direct and indirect ways.

Moments are still playing themselves over and over in my mind, as if I were there - feeling the feelings, hearing the sounds, seeing the sights,

holding that connection between the body and the earth.

As I finalize the last envelopes before sending the artworks out to those individuals involved, I feel it necessary to say
Thank you.
Thank you to Artist's Mediums of Williston Vermont for donating art supplies to the project.
Thank you to Black Horse Fine Art Supply for donating art supplies to the project.
Thank you to Desillusion Magazine for donating magazines to use as supplies for the project.
Thank you to you for this opportunity and being a part of its creation.

I will announce by the end of the week when the work has been sent out.  I would suspect it will take no more than two weeks to reach each of you.

I hope you enjoy the work.
I hope you keep in touch with the artwork inspired by the journey after the fact at:
www.jessagilbert.com
and
faeebook.com/jessagilbertstudios

or directly

jessacgilbert@gmail.com

It has been my pleasure.

Jessa Gilbert

Process, Memory, and Beautiful British Columbia

The dogs here can communicate in English and French.

Or at least that's what the government here is pushing for - that all dog owners must teach their dogs commands in both English and French.  Luckily, this breaking news story came around the same time Miley Sirus began twerking, so all in all we in Canada may be winning.

Set up has begun, and although there are minor tweaks to the studio to come, I feel I am closing in on a permanent set up.  I overlook my neighbor's beautifully manicured vegetable garden, a Sedarium plant I'm hoping becomes interesting and not just mold, and my Grandmother's (I think) table that I have turned into my painter's table.

It's been such a joy to go through the pieces created on the Between the Points Project.  Although I have landed here in Vancouver, British Columbia, I feel as though I'm still on the road when I go through these works.  It's as if creating these pieces in those places captured and retained the energy of that moment.  While I always thought of paintings and artwork being able to produce emotions for the viewer, these sentiments are much stonger than I had anticipated.

Even within the photographs I developed from my Ricoh 35 mm camera.  Perhaps that's just how memory works - it is jolted awake by images or things or scents.  When I began the Latitude/Longitude photographs I had this in mind - that a memory is actually a fleeting, unclear thing.  As theory states, "our perception of the past is always influenced by the present, which means it is always changing."

By having something, in this case a latitude and logitude location "trigger", in the foreground, the background becomes gauzy and painterly - much like memories.

This process of redefining what you see and how you understand it is essential for creating a body of work, or a process of working, that feels noteworthy - for me at least.  I also enjoy trying to think of past events in a different way.  Perhaps you can imagine an unpleasant moment in a positive or humorous light.

Like these:

Cloudy Mornings.

Although I was hoping for a beautiful sunrise in Virginia, I was greeted with cloud covered rolling hills.  I would pack a few things and go back to look, but the mountains were still fast asleep under their blankets of clouds.

Allergies.

Which plagued me State after State either due to dust of different things in bloom.

Desert Heat.

As my close friends like to point out, my body does not do an exceptional job regulating heat.  However, the colors of the desert feel alive, and though I was at times unable to take a step, the people accustomed to the desert heat didn't let it stop them.

Sometimes to energize the mind and body, for me, it is best to just get to work.  This project, as well as preparing for my next group show, the Lab Arts Show put on by Glitz Entertainment, as well as creating a new portfolio for the Open Door Gallery, who I am represented by here in Vancouver, has helped me to hit the ground running, and be thankful for everything I have, have done, and will do.

That doesn't mean I have chained myself to my painter's table.  It is still important to be outside in the real world - noticing color combinations,

compositions,

symbols,

and beyond.

Two weeks in, and things are settling in nicely as I prepare the artworks from the Between the Points Project to ship out this month.

So much to come.

Jessa Gilbert

www.jessagilbert.com

facebook.com/jessagilbertstudios

Day Dozen - Utah, Nevada, Utah, Idaho

In order to get from Salt Lake City to Utah, you have to go through Nevada.

I spent the night in Salt Lake City and woke up to clear skies, chance of 100 degree weather, and a flat tire on my bike.  Aside from the bike, all components seemed perfect for the day's journey:

Nancy Holt's artwork, "Sun Tunnels".

I studied this particular piece while at the University of Vermont and fell in love with her idea of removing artwork from the elitist "white-walled" gallery space, and creating something where the value is in the piece itself as well as the journey and experience getting to it.  About this work in particular she also stated, "It's an inversion of the sky/ground relationship-bringing the sky down to the earth".  That aspect of the work I never understood while reading about the piece in textbooks.  Being at the artwork site, however, puts it all into perspective.

Let me back up a minute... let's talk about getting there.

Exit Utah towards the West side of the Great Salt Lake, where white mounds of salt are piled on either side of the highway.  There are shallow pools next to the roads as well for a large portion of the beginning of the drive.  These pools seem to behave more like mirrors than liquid, and the reflections in them are remarkable.  Too bad there's the whole moving vehicle thing to pay attention to.

Once the Great Salt Lake is far in your rear view mirror, you enter the Salt Flats.  I am still jogging my brain for reasons why anyone would want to camp on the Salt Flats, or go there for any extended period of time, but I have yet to come up with one.  While they may look like cold, refreshing fields of snow, let me assure you - they are not.  Driving through them at 9 am, it was 90 degrees fahrenheit.

Now, I learned the hard way about plugging in GPS coordinates into your Tom Tom that hasn't been updated since, oh let's say, 2003.  If, and I should say when, you head to the Sun Tunnels, head towards Lucin, UT, and enter off the highway UT-30.

Or else you will end up here:

 Leaving Utah, going into Nevada, to then enter Utah about 20 miles down the road:

Although this route was much longer and way more rugged than the other, the scenery was beautiful and I learned what extended time at 15 mph feels like.  Although I was in the middle of the desert, there were a few, seemingly random, farm areas scattered about the drive.  Most of the property signs had gun holes in them, so I did not stop to tell them about the Between the Points Project.

One of my favorite signs read "No Hunting, Don't Ask".

After a little over an hour, and about 4 hours from Salt Lake City, I arrived at the Sun Tunnels.  Believe it or not, I had the exhibition all to myself.

The concrete tubes, as well as the holes drilled into the sides of all four of them (these holes are in the formation of particular constellations), were much larger than I anticipated.  When you walk through the tubes there is an echo from your feet that almost gives you an out of body experience - or maybe that was the heat.

Each time you turn around or venture into a different tunnel you frame a new image.  The light changes every time you move around the piece, and no matter how unchanged it seems, everything is different.

You become very aware of how small you are, and how vast the landscape around you is.  Every time I moved through the tunnels I felt as though the distance between the earth and sky collapsed.  I know she likely did not intend for there to be skateboard tracks twisting through the tunnel, but they add to the feeling that you are in a sort of vortex, spinning and rotating, inverting the sky and the sand.

While I feel I could have spent the whole day there, watching the sun move over the works, I had to press on.  Not to mention, my super-gringo skin may not last a full day in the salty Utah desert sun.

Although, let it be known, this is the most color my skin has had in years.. 

and it's not (completely) pink.

Back in the art mobile, and onto the dusty trail.  I ended up taking a different route out, so I had a nice new tour of the desert landscape.

Twin Falls, Idaho was my next stop, and boy, how the landscape did change.  I drove through white, salt flats, down red and green grass fields leading into mountains, and into golden and green hay fields at the base of some smaller mountains.  Southern Idaho was beautiful - all these ranges of gold and green butting up against crisp blue and white skies.  I also loved all the farm equipment, and how the sun reflected off the endless, massive sprinkler systems.

I made great time coming into Twin Falls which was perfect because my bike needed some work, the car was due for an oil change, and quite possibly a serious car wash.

With everything tuned up, I'll be heading to Washington in the morning.

Day 11 - Canyonlands, Moab, Salt Lake City

Everything is covered in a film of red dirt.

Had a beautiful night star gazing in my tent in the Needles Campground in Canyonlands National Park, but decided to wake up with the sun and see how the light would cast the canyon walls.  Early morning light is one of the most inspiring times of the day for me, because the low angled light seems to show everything in a warm tone.

Not to mention it is a great time to stretch, breathe, and set the tone for the day.

I've been feeling so inspired by the landscape that I started producing a small series of long horizontal pen and ink drawings.  I see these, or at least some of them, being highlighted with color.

I packed everything up, reorganized my studio on wheels a little bit, and pointed it towards Moab.  Of course I stopped in the office and paid first!  The woman running the campsite was very friendly, and the location is incredible.  I would highly recommend staying here if you're looking to get out and see some incredible land formations.

Moab instantly stole my heart.  You drive into a small town, which is basically one strip, situated in the basin of red walls.  I parked in town, hopped on my bike, and headed towards The Arches, which are only a few miles outside of downtown Moab.  Now, seeing as I don't have my mountain bike with me, and my knee isn't exactly cleared for maneuvering down rock faces, I had to be a bit more choosy with my route that normal.  So, you tell me:

Which route looks more fun below - Left or Right?

Whatever you do, don't tell my surgeon.

Moab and The Arches were fantastic.  Again, a brilliant deep red color that echoes through the landscape and everyone/everything in it.  However, once you leave it... it's more flat, desert.

Not to mention, the temperature was a balmy 100 degrees fahrenheit.  Needless to say, by the time I was entering Salt Lake City, I smelled like a bed of roses.

I managed to find a small swimming hold off the Big Cottonwood Pass called Hidden Falls.  Unfortunately, a particular family was conducting their family photo-shoot at the same time.  Hopefully they didn't mind my fragrant intrusion.

On the way back to my car I came across an old mine shaft in the side of the rock as well.  Since someone had so generously left their pillow there, I thought about staying right there.

As to not give my parents heart attacks, I did not sleep in an abandoned mine shaft in the middle of a canyon, but continued into Salt Lake City.  I pedaled around downtown until the sun began to set.  There was even an outdoor, beach volleyball tournament going on.  I watched the 8 foot tall amazonian women play doubles for a short while in envy before continuing on.

Called it a night after a rooftop sunset gawk, and prepped for the next days journey out to Lucin, Utah.  Can you guess why I'm going there?