I was looking through old social media posts today and came across one from my trip to Japan a couple autumns ago. It was a photo of fallen leaves on cobblestones, and the accompanying caption read:

I don't have any aspirations to become a poet, but this haiku really brought me back to the feeling of traveling through Japan in November, all those amazing bowls of noodles we enjoyed, and the autumn leaves littering the ground. The sense of nostalgia and longing was almost overwhelming, so I painted the image above.

I feel a similar nostalgia when researching Art History, more specifically, the history that concerns individuals and their everyday lives, or when visiting a Gothic cathedral, imagining all the thousands of hands that helped build it.

I'm inspired by the past, whether it's my own experiences, or the people, places, and things that came before. It's probably what led me to Art History as a major, and I want to explore this concept more in my art. 

I'm excited to see where it leads me. 

I recently picked up a tube of watercolor paint called Red Jasper Genuine. Like many paints, it's made from crushed up rocks and minerals to make a muted brownish red color that looks more maroon when layered up, and more beige-pink when lightened. In ancient times, the red stone was associated with ideas of courage, fertility, health, and protection, and carved into amulets worn by mummies, or set into sword hilts carried by vikings. In India, Jasper is used as an inlay material to adorn the Taj Mahal.

Images: Pierre Boncompain, Eny Lee Parker, Tom Blachford, Morgan Harper Nichols, pietra dura inlay at the Taj Mahal

One day I was at the Long Beach Flea Market when I saw a seller offering framed Japanese woodblock prints. The print I ended up buying was by Utamaro - I researched his work as soon as I got home, and it turns out, he was one of the most prolific and popular woodblock artists of his time. He's most known for his tender portrayals of idealized women from the theater and pleasure districts. I love his soft colors and attention to detail in the hair and clothing, especially the variety of surface patterns he uses. Imagine carving out multiple intricate wood blocks to produce just a single print! For every separate color in a print, a new wood block had to be carved.

I also found out that many reproductions and fakes were produced, especially in the later 19th century, due to the explosion of japonisme in France, so the print I purchased is definitely not a 1790s original. Regardless, it's one of my most treasured art pieces.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed this email! If you have any thoughts to share or questions, please reach out on Instagram or reply to this email. I'd love to know if anything in particular captured your fascination.