Here in northern California wine country, we have a wealth of AWE. Artists Working in Encaustic are everywhere: in their studios, in the vineyards painting en plein air, in galleries, and even in a new museum.
Add to that the tremendous amount of communication every day with artists far afield. In monthly newsletters we bring you The Buzz -- news and notes from the factory, the lab, artists, and the hives.
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Joanne Mattera Master Classes
Even topping last year's classes, Joanne's visit this month was spectacularly informative. Mid-career painters and sculptors came from Oregon, Washington, and distant southern California, and the Bay area cream of the crop of emerging artists was well represented. We visited with San Francisco gallerists, networked with each other, learned the benefits and methods of blogging from Chris Ashley (www.twoartiststalking.blogspot.com), then headed for Sonoma for The Effective Presentation Package and Navigating the New York Galleries. Classes with Joanne Mattera are intense and each artist was propelled to take the next steps in career momentum.
Those of us who work in wax will head to Boston in June for 'the conference.' For up to date info, check out www.montserratencausticconference.blogspot.com
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New Paint Stick Colors
 Many new colors have been added to the popular Paint Sticks line here at Evans Encaustics. These are super concentrated encaustic paints. Melt a piece of a Paint Stick with plenty of medium to make encaustic paint just the way you like it. Mixing colors becomes easier with this shape of paint. For an intense color mixing workshop, come to Montserrat in June for The Conference!
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New Brushes, Too!
 Hake brushes of a quality we love are here in a size range from 1.5 inches to 3 inches wide, with long handles and a firm ferrule of wood with internal stitching. There is no metal on the brush, so no metal screws to loosen in the wax. A mix of goat and sheep hair, these brushes are perfect for laying down a hot, thin coat of wax with minimal texture.
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NEXT MONTH
Some of My Best Friends Are Encaustic Artists - and why I'll never use that term again.
Traveling Light - Hit the road with paints and tools without upsetting airport security.
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ASK THE EXPERTS!
While workshops and classes provide a good intro, there are recent developments and techniques for working with wax.Thanks to the inspiration of friends like Ed Angell, we will share some thoughts in coming months.
Got a question for an expert? Send me an email and just the right person will answer you in the next newsletter.
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The first record I ever worked on was Gloria Gaynor's "Honey Bee." How is that for an auspicious beginning?
Later in the NBC days I had a boss who puffed his cigar with a big and public, "Hello, Honey!" when I entered the room. With lots of network VPs around, I didn't dare put him in his place then. It left others with the impression that I was his "Honey" - far from the truth. After that, I joked with friends about starting a company called "Hello Honey." Who knew where I was headed? As a musician friend says, I went out of the frying pan and into the propane torch. It's sure a great ride!
Sincerely,
Hylla Evans
Evans Encaustics
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LISSA RANKIN on TAKING THE PLUNGE
I never quite knew I wanted to quit my day job. After all, I spent 12 years in school, studying for the privilege of being a physician. It's supposed to be a calling, a passion, not a day job. But about three years ago, I found myself calling it my day job, because, in truth, while I enjoyed it, it took me away from what I loved more- art. It's funny. Every physician who found out I was balancing a successful art career with a full time medical practice said, "When
are you gonna quit?"? As if it was every doctor's dream. As if they all wish
they could be artists so they could escape from the rat race of 72 hour night shifts, medical malpractice worries, and insurance hassles. But in truth, most doctors don't feel they have any other option, which made me a freak in all of my worlds. The doctors didn't quite know what to do with me. The artists didn't either.
I never intended to retire at the ripe old age of 38. Instead, I was hoping to slow down, take a part time job, and move my family to the country, where we could spread out, breathe more clearly, and find balance in our lives. It was a good idea, but it didn't quite work out that way. The job was a nightmare, and every day, I came home, saying something I'd never said
before. "When can I quit my job?"
My husband, who manages my art business, cares for my 22 month old daughter, and is, himself, an artist, has always left it up to me. I'm lucky that way. Some spouses might cause trouble, having signed on to be the partner of a physician, not a full time artist. It's a big difference. As a doctor, I had a guaranteed paycheck, was a full partner at the age of 33, maxed out my retirement account every year, and had no trouble getting health insurance or mortgages. As an artist, we are still on COBRA for our health insurance, we figure we never have to retire so why bother socking it away, and hopefully, some day, we'll have enough cash to buy another house.
But, while there are sacrifices, the rewards are priceless. I am, for the first time in my life, truly living my dream. Now, my husband and I wake up in the morning, we take our daughter to preschool, I write for a few hours while the wax melts, we take a hike in one of our beautiful state parks, and I paint for the rest of the day. The task of creating every day, on a schedule, is a new challenge. So far, the ideas continue to flow, but I fear the day I don't know what to paint. I worry that the market is slowing, that I might have trouble paying the student loans, and that I might not be able to go back, if I need to. It feels like jumping off a cliff, and while I have a little money in the bank, in the big picture of life, it's a feeble safety net.
But the universe has been good to us. August was the first month I didn't receive a doctor's
paycheck, and art paid the bills. All of them. Not that we're not being careful. But that means paying to ship art across the country, paying for all the supplies, and paying rent, preschool tuition, student loans, and credit cards. It's a stretch.
My life has always been planned, structured, and safe, so this adventure is
entirely new to me. My mother is horrified.
But not me. I have a new and exciting sort of faith. I believe in myself as a creative soul, and I've been affirmed, so far, for my decision. I have crazy, art dreams and wake up dying to paint them. All of my pent up energy is surfacing, and I feel like a bottle of champagne, finally and jubilantly uncorked. I truly feel that, without taking the plunge, I would never know what I might be able to accomplish. It's a big risk, but I'm finally giving myself permission to take the free fall, just to see what might happen. I'm not sure what the future holds. Maybe I'll go back one day. Maybe I'll miss it, or maybe I'll just need the money, and I won't see that as a failure, but rather, as an experiment. When you're free falling, you never know where you might land, but so far, it's
definitely worth the ride.
See Lissa's art at www.lissarankin.com.
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