Tuesday, April 9, 2024

A Cloudy Eclipse Day, Watering Plants With Coffee, and More Pattern Paintings

We were supposed to get a 75 percent solar eclipse here in Minneapolis, but instead we got 100 percent clouds. Oh well, there's always the next one. In twenty years.

Cloudy, rainy days are good for having our afternoon coffee at home, a tradition we started in the Covid lock-down times and, having become accustomed to the ritual, still do from time to time. There's usually a little coffee left over, even after I've had my second cup, which I pour into my plant-watering pitchers (one of which is an old coffee pot), to be mixed with water before pouring on the houseplants.

And that always makes me think of my Grandma Clausen (whose birthday was April 9!), because she used to pour her leftover coffee on her houseplants. She always had a lot of healthy plants, so I figured if Grandma did it, it must be good.

But one day I got curious and decided to do a little research on the practice. I wondered if anyone else did it, and if it was actually a good idea or a myth. As it turns out, it's a pretty common practice (see here and here), and may even be beneficial to plants, because coffee (and tea) contains some nitrogen and a couple of other minerals. But not all that much, so it's not really a substitute for using regular houseplant fertilizer. 

Both coffee and tea are also acidic, and that could be a problem if poured undiluted on houseplants that prefer a neutral to alkaline soil, so you probably want to look up your specific plants first. Since I usually have about a half cup of leftover coffee, and my watering pitchers hold about a quart, I figure my mixture is diluted enough to make little if any difference one way or the other. 

The really interesting thing about coffee and tea with regard to plants is the effect of caffeine, though. As early as 1911, researchers (link opens a PDF) were studying the effects of caffeine on seed germination, and found it to be allelopathic, which means it suppresses the germination of the seeds of other plants. So I nixed my plan to add the grounds to my seed-starting mix!

A more recent study on caffeine and seed germination (another PDF), concluded that it holds promise as an alternative to chemical pre-emergent herbicides. So maybe you want to be dumping your leftover coffee and tea on your lawn instead.

Meanwhile, My Art Practice . . .

I continue to loosely maintain my participation in the 100-Day Art Project, though in my case, it might more accurately be called a 14-week art project (=98 days), in that I don't really work on my art every day. But about midway through the week, I think about this blog and my self-imposed deadline to post something every week, and then I do a little dabbling with the paints.

At top is a cropped photo of a (shiny) gift bag, and beneath it a painting, using watercolor and gouache; size about 4 x 6.

For my 100-Day Project, which began Feb. 18 and has now reached the halfway point, I started out making mini collages, then moved on to spotting what I have called asemic patterns (in that they resemble writing in an abstract sort of way), taking photos of objects that suggest such patterns, and then interpreting them with watercolor paints. 

A scan of the inside of a security envelope, which had interesting flaws in its printed pattern. Beneath it is my watercolor background on top of which I plan to mimic the pattern.

This one's going to take a few sessions.

Another time (maybe next week), I'll elaborate a little more on the the practice of finding patterns all around us and making art from that, which I learned about in a workshop with Molly Anthony at our local art supply store, Wet Paint. But as this post already contains a bit of a rambler about coffee and plants, I won't add more words about that just now.



Tuesday, April 2, 2024

Fools and Delights


On some long-ago April Fools' Day, my mom baked cookies with a piece of cardboard inside them on which she had written "April Fools!" At least, I think she did that, mainly because I kind of recall my older siblings commenting that they became suspicious as soon as they learned she had baked cookies on April 1, because she so rarely made them.  

And I'm pretty sure I read about how our local zoo reported that they would receive calls on April 1 from unsuspecting people who had been left a note telling them to return a call from Mr. Lyon, with the zoo's phone number. 

I am not a prankster, mainly because I am incapable of keeping a straight face. But I am always curious about the origins and history of folk traditions such as April Fools' Day, and have read quite a few explanations, all lacking any supporting evidence (maybe they were all pranks?). What can be known about the day is summed up very nicely in this overview from the Library of Congress.


My 100-Day Project This Week

In truth, I did very little in the way of actually working on my project or projects, except to finish my scarf (watercolor) painting early in the week. See the beginnings of that one in last week's blog post (scroll down a bit to find it). I'm comfortable saying I'm done with it now. 

Some things I learned from doing this:

It really helps to allow a few days to do a painting, even a small one like this. It is too tempting to feel that I must complete a drawing or painting in one sitting, but it is nearly always a mistake to actually try to do so. 

The practical reason is to stop myself from overworking it while it's wet, which I've done often enough; the result tends to be muddy and opaque. But I also need to stop from overthinking it, and for that it helps to step away and go do something else, then come back to look at it with refreshed eyes. When I'm in the midst of it, I can't tell if I've done enough or already too much—and if it does need something more, what that might be. 

I don't have a plan for it other than to keep it in the box I am currently using for all things related to my 100-Day Project. And move on to doing another painting. And another one after that.

Books written for artists emphasize how you're supposed to produce a lot of work without worrying about if it's "good" or not. That's the only way to truly develop your skills—and to learn to relax and enjoy the process. It's the central message that I got from Lynda Barry's graphic memoir and creative guidebook, What It Is. The climax of the first half of the book is when she is agonizing about whether her work is any good, or is it crap? The right answer turns out to be, "I don't know."

That message is also central to the book Art and Fear, by David Bayles and Ted Orland.  "You make good work by (among other things) making lots of work that isn't very good ... ," they write.

And that's really what my "project" is, and the reason I signed up for the 100-Day Project. To push myself to just make pictures: drawings, paintings, collages, with asemic writing and without. 

Random Delights

I make frequent use of the Online Etymology Dictionary, or Etymonline. Its creator, Douglas Harper, posts random short entries on his Patreon page that show up in my email inbox at irregular intervals, with links to entries in his dictionary that often seem like non sequiturs, yet curiously do relate somehow, though I would be hard pressed to explain it. He doesn't fuss over syntax with these, either, so they often read like little bursts of thought that spring spontaneously from his brain. Here's an example from last week:

"unburst ordnance: The goal is to sow the landscape thick with landmines of delight. Little things, unexpected crocus in the sidewalk crack, that sort of. Never where you'd look for them. Someplace no one goes, or you get there lost and bleary looking for something else. That's when you'll want it there."

This little paragraph is followed by links to two words, Thompson and thisness. 

It made me think of The Book of Delights, by Ross Gay, a collection of essays about noticing the delightful things one might easily overlook when we are too focused on, well, whatever we're too focused on. And that reminded me that I have always meant to buy the book but hadn't done so yet. Since it was published in 2019, it's easy to find a used copy nowadays. (In fact, I just ordered it after writing the foregoing.)

Meanwhile, Over at Wordsmith, the Solar Eclipse

Wordsmith sends a word of the day Monday through Friday, with a theme for the week, which is sometimes topical. This week it's all about the upcoming solar eclipse (April 8) that will briefly cloak a wide swath of the country in daytime darkness next Monday. This Monday's word was "umbra."