Category: Dog Art Calendars

  • Everyday Dogs: A Perpetual Calendar

    Everyday-dogs-perpetual-calendar-cover

    Guardian in Carriage, Sonoma Valley, California, from Photographic Viws of El Verano and Vicinty by Carleton E. Watkins (1829-1916)

    Everyday Dogs: A Perpetual Calendar for Birthdays and Other Notable Dates features 75 black and white dog photographs taken between 1870-1940 from the Bancroft Library at UC Berkeley.  The authors, Susan Snyder, public services director at the Bancroft Library, and Mary Scott, graphic designer for the university’s Doe & Moffitt Libraries, inadvertently began the book in 2005 when they were researching photographs for an exhibition on Californian women and they kept finding wonderful dog photographs.  After envisioning the calendar, they made selections from the hundreds of choices by deciding to include ones that depict the connection between people and their dogs.  And that is what makes the book so special.  It speaks to everyone who has ever passionately loved a dog and it celebrates the medium of photography for documenting that passion.

    But my favorite aspect of Everyday Dogs, besides the fact that it is perpetual and not headed for the recycling bin in 12 months, is that almost every photograph is captioned with the name of the person and the name of the dog. These are not anonymous snapshots that charm but leave one curious and a little sad that their histories are lost. These photographs are treasures, cared for and curated at one of the greatest universities in the world.

    Many of the photographs depict famous literary figures, visionaries, and pioneering individuals who made California the golden state of myth and reality in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  What these photos, and the care with which they have been archived, express to me is that without dogs we would not be who we are as people or as a civilization.

    Would our national parks be as expansive if John Muir was without Stickeen?  Would San Simeon stand as magnificently if William Randolph Hearst didn’t have Helen?  Would our literature be as rich or our society as diverse if there was no Greta to keep Langston Hughes’s company at Noël Sullivan’s Carmel cabin? (The dog came with the retreat.)

    But it is the everyday dogs of Everyday Dogs who truly inspire: the pups in the “Tent City” of San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake, the loyal companions of the prospector, the mountain guide, the volunteer postman, the ornithologist, the teacher, the housewife, the nurse, the students, the animal-rights activist, the dock workers, and the surveyors.  When I look at these dogs through the lens of time, I see how integral they were to our survival.  I also notice that few of the dogs have leashes and almost all of their companions have smiles.  Dogs makes us human.  Dogs make us civilized.  But most of all, dogs make us happy, everyday.

    Everyday-dogs-john-muir-stickeen

    John Muir and Stickeen, circa 1880

    Everyday-dogs-may-savage-and-her-dogs-livermore-california-1897

    May Savage and Her Dogs, Livermore, California, 1897, Savage Family Homes Photo Collection

    Everyday-dogs-calendar-happy-family-tent-city-san-francisco-earthquake-1906

    A Happy Family, San Francisco “Tent City” after the 1906 Earthquake, Charles Baker photo collection

    Everyday-dogs-langston-hughes-with-greta-german-shepherd-1933

    Langston Hughes with Greta, Noël Sullivan’s German Shepherd, Carmel, California, 1933

    Everyday-dogs-calendar-university-summer-school-of-surveying-1898

    The University Summer School of Surveying, Including the Canine Crew Members, Calistoga, California, 1898, Oliver Family Photo Collection

    Everyday-dogs-william-randolph-hearst-with-dachshund-helen

    William Randolph Hearst and his Constant Companion, Helen, at San Simeon

    Everyday-dogs-calendar-dock-workers-by-patroni-house

    Dock Workers and Tail Wagger by Patroni House, Charles Baker Photo Collection

    Everyday-dogs-ornithologist-james-moffitt-with-dog-on-horseback

    Ornithologist James Moffitt with his Pal Riding Shotgun, Mendocino County, September 10, 1938. Portraits of Joseph Grinnell’s Family and his Colleagues


    Everyday Dogs: A Perpetual Calendar for Birthdays & Other Notable Dates
    by Mary Scott & Susan Snyder is published by Heydey into California, an independent, nonprofit publisher.  It would be an awesome gift for the dog lover, photographer, writer, or historian on your list this holiday season.   It’s become one of my new favorites at Dog Art Today.  Highly recommend. 

    Please purchase from Heyday to show your support for this unique cultural institution dedicated to preserving history and making beautiful books.

  • Longhaired Dachshund Calendar: May

     

    Longhaired_dachshund_calendar_may

     

    Dreaming of Sky Pines by Moira McLaughin

    The above artwork is the finished May page for my Longhaired Dachshund calendar.  It was inspired by a walk I took with Darby in my neighborhood down a rural, farm-filled street called Sky Pines.  The first idea was based on a blue heron that flew right over us, low, fast, prehistoric, and awe-inspiring.  This was the initial sketch…

     

    Darby_blue_heron_post_2

    This was the first pass…

    Longhaired_dachshund_calendar_wip4

    Then this…

    May_darby_collage_2

    Then, I got a lot of great feedback from readers.  I really do appreciate your suggestions.   For this piece, my favorite comment came from Suza Johnston in London who owns an erudite Dachshund named Archie.  She said, " Why not a flying, soaring, exultant feel… as in a Chagall – with Darby’s ears flapping back and soaring with the heron?"

    I loved that idea.  So I played around with painting Darby soaring.  Here are some attempts…

    Blue_darby

    Purple_darby

    I thought soaring Darbies looked like too blob-like, and I wasn't happy with the colors.   So I made these images out of a magazine ad…

    Blue-heron-darby_post

    I liked the blue heron but the blue Darby got lost against the blue background of the sky.  So I added some green.  This would give the heron a sense of motion and it would capture the glowing psychedelic feeling of a spring day in Grass Valley…

     

    Darby_may_wip_3_post

    But the blue Darby wasn't a strong enough focal point.   It was too inconsistent with the photos of the sheep.  So I built a Darby composite out of several photographs of him.  His ears aren't flapping in the wind, but I was happy with the shape and color and the way he looks neslted in for the wild ride…

    Darby_may_composite_post

    Overall, I'm pleased with the final version of May.  Once again, here it is…

     

    Longhaired_dachshund_calendar_may

    But I couldn't resist playing around with the soaring Darby.  And this is the image I made that hangs on my wall (I'm not crazy about the frame, but it's all I had)…

    Darby_heron_framed

    Thoughts?

  • Longhaired Dachshund Calendar: May WIP II

    May_darby_collage_2

    Dreaming of Sky Pines (work in progress) by Moira McLaughlin

    Not feeling it yet…

  • Longhaired Dachshund Calendar: May WIP

     

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    Dreaming of Sky Pines by Moira McLaughlin (work in progress), 2011

    My May collage of my Longhaired Dachshund Darby is coming along.  It's inspired by a walk I took with him on a rural neighborhood road called Sky Pines.   We saw all of these animals and birds (the great blue heron flew right over us like a pterodactyl) and more, and had no idea how I was going to fit them all in.  That night, Darby was twitching and barking in his sleep, and I thought perhaps he was dreaming of his walk.  That was my solution.  Make it like a dream, like a Hieronymus Bosch.  I'm going to put Darby on the back of the heron like Europa on the back of Zeus disguised as a Bull.

    Darby_blue_heron_post_2

     

     

    This post is part of an ongoing series of the Longhaired Dachshund calendar I am making.  Click here to see the other months.

  • April Collage: Love Chakra Darby

     

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    About 30 minutes from Grass Valley is a place called Ananda Village.   According to its website it is "a cooperative spiritual community dedicated to the teachings of Paramhansa Yogananda, founded by his direct disciple, Swami Kriyananda."   I've heard it referred to as a commune and a former cult.   Today, 250 people live there on 900 acres and devote themselves following the advice from the Swami's book How to Be Happy All the Time through "simple living and high thinking."

    I've been fascinated by this place for a while.  In fact, the truth is Ananda Village is one of the reasons I moved to Grass Valley.  No, I didn't want to join the commune.  Although the yoga, the lack of one true religion, and the people-are-more-important-than-things-philosophy appeal to me, it was the tulips that drew me here.   When my sister, Sheila, who moved here first, started sending me photos of the tulips I was in awe.  When she explained that the photos were nothing, and there was no way to describe the beauty of this terraced garden overlooking the gorge of the South Yuba River, and that the gardens were open to the public only once a year in April, something sparked in me.  I had to see this place that sounded like a cross between Willy Wonka and The Wizard of Oz.   Shortly after that, I decided to move.

    Ananda_maroon

    Ananda_pink_yellow

    Ananda_view

    Surprisingly, I didn't see the tulips the first year I moved here.    April got filled up and I missed the window.  This year, I didn't let that happen and I went twice, once with friends and kids on the opening weekend and once with Sheila and her mother-in-law on a weekday.  Both visits were powerful; the first for the unbridled energy we all felt with the kids running around (and the special maple-glazed scones one of the member's bakes for the visitors), and the second for the feeling of being in the garden alone.  It was just us and two other people

    I still don't exactly know what goes on there year-round.  But the people I met at Ananda Village did seem happy, really happy, in a way I couldn't get a bead on.  They weren't hippie-ish.   They looked like suburbanites who shopped the Lands' End catalog yearly — crisp, colorful, and pressed.  Ok, the second time I went, there was a guy in a belted pantsuit with a groovy badge.  But mostly the members  just seemed sincere.  What was their angle?   The prices in the gift shop didn't seem to have the standard retail markup.   I'm not even sure if there was any markup.  And the tulips!   Sheila was right, there really is no way to describe them.  Willy Wonka and The Wizard of Oz are technical illusions caught on film.  This is real, with a blossomy breeze and the sound of the river echoing up with a gurgling roar.   The photos here, and all the photos I've ever seen can't capture it.  But know that the members plant 9,000 bulbs every year for five months.  Then, they pull them up, sketch a new garden plan, and start over, like a living mandala.

    Ananda_post_2

    So, as I've been making my way through the months for my Longhaired Dachshund Calendar starring my dog, Darby, I knew I wanted the April collage to be about the Ananda tulips.   Both times, before we went, I asked my sister Sheila to take photos for me.   And I brought my camera too and tried my best…

    Ananda_moira

    Between us we had some great shots.  But I felt defeated.  Anything layered or intricate would pale in comparison.    So I decided to go in the opposite direction.  I went for concentration instead of intricasy.  As I mentioned, in the Ed Ruscha post on Friday, I decided to make a silhouette.  When I completed it, I flashed on something someone said on our second visit.  It was a woman who was with the pantsuit-guy.  She entered the garden and looked out over the view and said, "It really opens up your love chakra, doesn't it?"  So that inspired the name for the April collage…

     

    Darby_april_post


    Open Up Your Love Chakra


    I did a little research after the piece was finished and was happy to find the colors that represent the love chakra are green and pink.  Also, I think it's interesting that one of the most beloved books, and now movies, about dog-love is J.R. Ackerley's My Dog Tulip .  Anyone who has one knows that nothing opens up your love chakra like a dog, but every April in Nevada County 9,000 tulips come close.

     

    On to May.  It's still freezing up here.  Got to get more firewood.

  • Darby Calendar: March Collage is Finished

     

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    Darby Calendar: March by Moira McLaughlin

    I wanted March to be as explosive as spring in the Sierra Foothills.  Thank you Sharon Montrose for letting me use your baby deer photograph.  Visit Sharon's Animal Print Shop to see her menagerie of animal photographs.   Prints of my collage will be available soon.   Calendar will be for sale this fall.

    See the rest of my 2012 Longhaired Dachshund Darby Calendar here.

  • March Collage

    Just like spring, my March collage of Darby is late.  Here is my sketch of it…

    Darby_collage_sketch_post

    Work in progress…

    March_collage_process

    Sharon Montrose has graciously allowed me to use her baby deer photograph from her Animal Print Shop. Thank you, Sharon.

  • Longhaired Dachshund Calendar: February Collage

     

    Longhaired_dachshund_calendar_february

    Here is my Darby calendar collage for the month of February.  This one was less of a struggle than January's collage.  It helped to sketch an idea first…

    Longhaired_dachshund_calendar_sketch

    It also helped to look at a masterpiece.   I printed out Van Gogh's Bedroom in Arles, 1888, and referred to it often…

    Bedroom_in_arles

    I also discovered that Van Gogh was much more methodical than is often assumed.  Here are two sketches of Bedroom in Arles.  One sent to his brother Theo…

    Vincent_van_Gogh_sketch_to_theo

    And this one sent to his friend and fellow artist Paul Gaugin…

    Vincent_van_Gogh_-_Vincent's_Bedroom_-_Lettersketch_17_October_1888

    The other piece I printed out was this Romare Bearden collage.  I don't know the name of it.  I kept coming back to his blocks of color…

    Romare_Bearden

    Now, on to March.  I think it's going to be about Darby in the miner's lettuce

    Longhaired_dachshund_calendar_darby_march
  • Dispatch from Dog Bar: Digging Out

     

    Snow_trees

    There was no update on my collage progress last Friday because on Thursday we got hit with a major storm here in the California foothills.  I'm from Cleveland, so I know snow.  I know cold.  I am used to living alone in my little house and stoking the wood stove to keep off the chill.  But nothing prepared me for the intensity of what went down last week.  I've tried to explain it to flatlander friends (flatlander = someone who doesn't live in the hills).   The closest I got was "it was like an 20-hour avalanche, a meteor shower, the London Blitz, and being tossed in a ship at sea."  Yes, I exaggerate, but how else to convey that I was terrified?

    More than that, I was shocked how quickly my emotional state unraveled.  Like a cosmic game of musical chairs, the storm came, the power went out, and all the stuff that fills up your brain — Facebook, phone, cellphone, Rachel Maddow, Oprah, The Real Housewives, Charlie Sheen updates, the furnace kicking on, hot showers, looking in the refrigerator — stops.  And you're stuck with your thoughts and a cold nose and trying to figure out how to use your new oil lamps and realizing how easy it would be to knock it over and set the town on fire.  And it just keeps snowing.  And chunks of ice fall from the sky.  Trees too. And I can see how not that long ago it was a triumph to make it through the winter.  Because it still is.  I took some photos of my day inside and the aftermath outside.  Nothing captures the drama.  And now that the sun is out, I have trouble remembering it myself.   In fact, it looks kind of cozy…

    Inside

    Darby_oil_lamp

    This is my neighbor's tree, about 50 feet away from my house…

     

    Tree_2

    Look in the branches to see the tree trimmers.  Yes, that is a house behind the tree…

    Tree_trimmers

    Before the storm, I had been dissecting Van Gogh's Bedroom in Arles, looking at the light, the composition, the perspective…

     

    VanGogh_Bedroom_Arles_2

    This was the direction I was headed…

    Freburary_collage_1_post

    Now, after my trip back to 19th century oil-lamp lighting, and my new thoughts about the fragile state of my psyche in isolation,  I might make the piece darker.

    I  also briefly became a cat person.  I'm telling you things got nuts.  Bones, my neighbor's outdoor cat who is one of the toughest creatures I have ever met, cried her way inside.  My neighbor is out of town.

    Bones_post

    My sister and her husband came an rescued me on Saturday afternoon.  I spent a lovely night at her house playing Jenga with her girls, watching "The Social Network" and falling asleep to the rattle of their new generator.  She blogged about it here.

    Finally, it stopped snowing.  My friend Ruth of Camping in Style, who posted about coming unglued in the storm here and made me feel like less of a wimp, took this photo…

    Stop_sign_in_snow

    Today I am getting back to "normal."  Tomorrow I need to get more firewood.   Another storm is on its way.

  • Sketching Solutions and a Quickfire Challenge

     

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    I received so much insightful feedback from many of you artists about my ongoing Darby calendar project. Superheidi of The Swing of Things was especially helpful when she advised “Just keep going on creating, don’t evaluate just yet.  Somehow you’ll notice in which direction you are heading and then it’s easier to make choices and you can set some boundaries.  I freak out when I think I want to create a ‘master piece,’ because the subject matters.  It won’t work that way.”

    She is right.  I was freaking myself out.  And it wasn’t working.  So I found an old notebook and started sketching loose ideas.  The first one (above) helped me put the pieces in place for the final January collage (below).

     

    January_calendar_final_lulu

    Then, I started playing around with ideas for February.   The Narcissus is blooming in my yard, but instead of going outside, I’d like to include the interior too.   That’s February here in Northern California — a cozy fire and spring flowers coming up.  Also, I want to use this photograph I took…

     

    Narcissus_bouquet

    Here’s my first idea…

    February_sketch_post

    Then, I did some close up sketches of Darby, trying to figure out where he puts his paws when he sits like this…

    Darby_chair_chair

    Darby_head_cu_post

    Finally, I went back to the pieces I didn’t end up using in my January collage and gave myself a “Quickfire Challenge” — a concept from the Bravo TV show Top Chef where the contestants are given limited time and ingredients to cook something delicious.  Don’t think.  Just cut and paste, I told myself.  I made this in about 30 minutes with the January leftovers…

    January_leftover_collage

    It felt very liberating.