The California Sunshine and The Leaf and Vine Art Nouveau Ketubah

We've got the ocean, got the babes Got the sun, we've got the waves --Best Coast, "The Only Place"

The notion of writing on my patio in February seemed a fantasy for six years of my life. Living in Portland, Oregon, February was most dreary, dark, lonely and bone-chilling cold. One year was so particularly miserable that we had a "Heat Wave" party replete with beach balls, sand, palm trees and towels in an 750 square foot apartment with the thermostat turned to 85 degrees.  We wore bikinis and swim trunks drinking fruity cocktails with paper umbrellas watching the windows fog and the sweat bead.

I now sit perched atop my hill in Marin County, California sporting a tee shirt staring at 150 year old palm trees and listening to the hummingbirds buzz not 5 feet from the milk crate on which I sit.

I write long-hand, my preference as a professional cursive-maker, unable to shackle myself to my large desktop inside; my drafting table a forgotten mess.

In Portland, February would be a most productive time. Unable to venture out, all one can do is stay warm and create.

Yet I persevere in my new sun-drenched existence. I must not allow the sun temptress to flirt with me, cajoling me to play with her.

Custom Ketubah commissions await; projects in various stages of development must be completed and sent out to their respective clients. Etsy orders need to be filled.

Thus I bring the flora and fauna of my new land to the Art Nouveau Leaf and Vine Ketubah I created recently for a wedding in Lake Tahoe. Forging a new identity in a new land.

The Ketubah -- A History and Definition

Thirteen years ago I created a ketubah for a close friend. Knowing I knew Hebrew calligraphy and could draw, he asked me to use my artistic license and create a piece of art for their traditional Jewish wedding. Word spread and suddenly I had a new career for myself. 

Never have I fully explained exactly what a ketubah is. So here it goes.

The ketubah is a marriage contract that the groom is required to give the bride spelling out the husband’s obligation to his wife. Originally, it was considered so binding that a couple whose ketubah had been lost was forbidden to live together until a new ketubah was written.

Although the ketubah is not mentioned in the Torah, the first reference to a deed associated with a Jewish marriage ceremony is the 5^th century BCE. Written in Aramaic, the spoken and written language of the period, it specified that a groom must provide his wife with “food, clothing, and necessities” and entitled him to her earnings. It protected her from arbitrary divorce and guaranteed her alimony.

In the Middle Ages it was standardized and used throughout Central and Western Europe. In 1492 after the Spanish expulsion, the Jews who resettled made slight departures from the standard text by adopting local customs.

When Israel was established, ketubah text was standardized. During the 1970’s, illuminated ketubot experienced a resurgence that has continued, not only among Jewish couples, but among others who wished to have a custom written document celebrating their marriage.

Many couples commission ketubot with traditional language using both Aramaic and English while others choose their own special vows. 

Pictured is my Art Nouveau ketubah.

The Japanese Lantern Ketubah

It's been a while... I find it difficult to summarize my life thus far. I moved into an 1889 Portland Alberta Arts District Victorian until California came calling. I am now in Marin County perched upon a hilltop . No longer residing amidst bars, coffee shops and perpetual multiplying of bespectacled hipsters, I now find myself surrounded by fruit trees and baby boomers. A different life. Creating art is the only constant. Much of my focus on Ketubah, I find refuge in creating illustrations based on Art Deco and Art Nouveau sensibilities. I find solace in the minute movements of the calligraphy pen and in the sheer concentration (followed by instant gratification or impending doom) it takes me to ink a piece of my own artwork. Without mistake. Pictured is "The Japanese Lantern Ketubah." It is the first time I inked directly onto the paint (gouache) itself rather than containing the calligraphy to a text box. It was intensely stressful as any false move could mean disaster for a completed 22" x 30" painting. I endeavored and proved successful. The wedding was an elaborate Art Deco affair held in the stunning Edison Ballroom in Manhattan. A gorgeous affair, a beautiful couple, and, I must admit, a sense of pride in accomplishing something new. Please check out my new website: Octavine Illustration

The Dresden Dolls, Steampunk, Octavine Illustration and an Apology

Created from the gears of industry, Steampunk is an expression of a desire to return to the elegance of tea-parties, ball gowns and the glamour of a more formal, ordered existence.

Steampunk fashion celebrates industrial beauty as pocket watch mechanisms and typewriter keys find new meaning in jewelry, adornment or collage. It is in direct opposition to the mass-produced, made in China, sleek minimalist look of the Millennium.

The Dresden Dolls, a Steampunk cabaret duo, embody this new fashion phenomenon. Their large, loyal fanbase seeks to portray this neo-Victorian aesthetic through Dresden Dolls inspired paraphernalia.

By returning to handmade, artisan crafted merchandise, the Dresden Dolls’ new website, Post-War Trade, seeks to provide hand-wrought items commissioned specifically for their fans.

Contacted personally by the Dresden Dolls with a vision for a notecard based around lead singer Amanda Palmer, I sought to create an aesthetic of old Hollywood glamour. With Dresden Dolls song lyrics and my own image of Amanda Palmer, these notecards are designed, hand-screenprinted and hand-painted by yours truly and can be purchased directly through the Post-War Trade website.

In other news, please accept my apology for my long absence. Vacation and weddings ruled the month of August leaving me little time for blogging.

I was however, featured in a wonderful eco-blog, The Organic Mechanic, with a lovely interview all about me and my art along with many ecologically minded details.

In addition, my "Career Gal" painting was featured on a major London travel site, The Londonist. And, of course, when not dancing at weddings or at a reunion, the was month spent working my little fingers to the bone creating Art Deco wedding invitations, an Art Nouveau inspired Ketubah as well as a couple new Moleskine and notecard images such as "London Mod." I hope to get everything posted soon. And I promise I will not be gone for so long again. I missed you all terribly.

The Scenester

My sister is a scenester. A scenester is defined as one whom is always where the action is and whilst there, on the hunt for more. A friend recently sent a picture with a gal wearing a tee with the words, "I listen to bands that don't even exist yet" emblazoned across the front. A most fitting description of my sis.

Recently, our free alternative weekly, The Willamette Week, featured Portland's top ten local bands as voted by members of the music community. My sister, as one of the town's music bookers gave her two cents. As luck would have it the band she chose, The Builders and the Butchers, was voted number one thus her quote selected:

“The first time I saw the Builders and the Butchers was about a year ago at one of those free afternoon back-patio shows at Rontoms. There were these intense storm clouds above us, and we all knew that it would POUR any second. As soon as they started playing, big fat drops came comin’ down—a warm spring rain. Thunder was crashing, lightning flashing off to the east like a high desert storm. The more soaked all of our bodies became, the louder the chorus of wailing voices became—a religious fervor set in. The crowd flailed around, dancing, shouting along to the chorus, ‘When it rains!’ Truly a rock-’n’-roll baptism.”

The musings of a hipster. Tee hee.

In addition, two other bands were chosen in the top ten, Loch Lomond and Nick Jaina. A few months back I illustrated their CD release promotion concert poster. All the fonts are hand-wrought and the image in a French New Wave style.

Although not a scenester myself, (although I do love to go to the concerts of my favorite bands, I find I usually prefer an evening of Masterpiece Theatre and a pint of ice cream to the bars) I may live vicariously through both my art and my sis.

This Old House

I was born and raised in the beautiful state of New Mexico. Hailing from this "Land of Enchantment," I believe, creates part of my need for space and time. I deplore the notion of being caged in by my surroundings; and the open sky and few people, endless desert and cowboy mentality allow me to breathe freely, openly and privately.

Everything is old in New Mexico. Not like in Portland where everyone lives in a Victorian, but rather old as in "old as dirt," literally. Many homes are built of mud and straw and many date back three hundred years and more.

The image pictured, done in the style of a 1940s postcard, is a piece commissioned by one of the members of a Boston knitting group that was screen-printed onto Eco-totes for use as knitting bags.

The retreat was held at her family home in Tularosa, New Mexico. This southern New Mexico home was an actual military fort used by the Spanish and has served as the family's private residence for three generations.

Listed on the National Historic Register, this centuries old adobe is essentially a fortress with walls three feet deep and window slats used to aim rifles through. The illustration pictured is based on this historical and architectural gem and is my first foray into architectural rendering, Art Deco style.

My First Album Cover Part II

First approached by Brian of Jive White Boy (don't let the name throw you) through my myspace page to illustrate his debut album, I held zero reservations as this has always been a dream of mine.

Part Eliott Smith, part Leonard Cohen, this local Portland singer songwriter's music is darkly folky, sweetly biting. A fan of Art Deco and Art Nouveau style, he felt my illustrations lended a classic yet slightly sinister quality to his indie rock musings.

The inspiration came from listening to his songs on repeat whilst sketching. The 1920s Jazz Age style image seemed an appropriate one and was also reminiscent of Brian himself. The CD should be available sometime this summer, hopefully in a wide release (or at least it may be purchased globally through the internet; I will provide a link on this site when it is released).



















I am most proud to present this illustration as well as the back cover song list (all fonts wrought completely by hand in the Art Nouveau style of the early 1900s and of my own alphabet, of course) as it has been long in the making. I can't wait to see it on the CD itself. A dream come true. Thank you so much, Jive White Boy.

A 1930s Gentleman and The Birthdays

I never knew my Grandpa Charlie. A tailor in the garment district of New York City's Lower East Side, he died two weeks before my little sister was born. She was named Caroline in honor of him.

My grandfather exists in my mind through Grandma Minnie's wedding pictures--quite the 1930s gentleman with a flair for fashion, a confident gait and a sly look.

Delivered in the hospital on my third birthday (yes, we are exactly three years apart), Caroline's birth is my first memory.

Aware it was my birthday and the importance of having one as well as the fringe benefits associated, one can imagine my devastation at the conspicuous absence of both my parents. Rather, my great Aunt Octavine celebrated with me. I received first a Fisher Price record player, and then a baby sister.

Forced to then share all birthdays following, every year "our" birthday celebration included all the neighborhood children. With the Fisher Price record player in tow, we endlessly played musical chairs outside. My mother dressed us in matching Victorian style dresses in differing colors and put our hair in ringlets. Great Aunt Octavine made a cherry cake (white cake with maraschino cherries in the batter and pink icing and maraschino cherries on top) and we would blow out the candles...together.

Most of the presents consisted of Barbie and Tracy (Barbie with brown hair--a favorite among us brunettes) dolls. My mother, not thrilled with the whole Barbie idea, only let us keep one each. My father then stashed the rest. To this day, hidden in the depths of some closet lie various late 1970s and early 1980s Barbie and Tracy dolls, still in their original packaging.

My sister and I are very close and live only minutes away from one another albeit not in our hometown. We still celebrate "our" birthday ever year together and sometimes even wear matching outfits. I think Grandpa Charlie would laugh.

Disco, My Mother and The Brazilian Stacked Heel

I love fashion. And I love shoes. When I was little my mother had a pair of Brazilian stacked heels. It was the 1970s and they were black suede with a cutout toe. I used to play dress up in them. They were so beautiful.

But my mother is not a packrat. She does not carry that gene which forces one to keep everything out of sentimentality or a need to hoard.

As a small child, I vividly remember finding garbage bags destined for Goodwill containing her wedding dress (a red velvet mini later worn to my Junior Prom), various early 1970s formals and innumerable pairs of high heels. Apparently she no longer had a need for such things as a mother of two in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Salvaging what I could in the back of the car en route to the donation center, I managed to save much of the lot. But the shoes were lost; destined to exist only in my memory.

So I present to you my mother's Brazilian stacked heel disco shoes (now in red), a beret (from my great Aunt Octavine) and a Diane von Furstenberg wrap-around dress I remember my mother wearing when we went out somewhere fancy.
My tribute to fashion through my childhood self.

Maira Kalman, Mice and the Movie Star

Despite an ever present drizzle (I must remember not to complain however, as I am the one who chose to live in Portland), today was most sunny. I was on the front page of Etsy and read a most wonderful interview on Inspiration Boards with one of my most favorite illustrators, Maira Kalman.

My father first introduced me to Maira Kalman's work through her New York Times column. Her illustrations provide social commentary and speak to the mundane aspects of life which fleetingly take on great significance. I suppose I find her most inspiring as her illustrations are not comics nor cover designs nor pictures in a book but rather form a column, a consecutive series of thought meant to observe and comment, to titilate and anger, to provide a conscience and put forth an opinion.

And I found this painting entitled "Devasting: The Movie Star." (See her real identity revealed in the comments section thanks to a most observant reader!) It had fallen behind the bookshelf and forgotten about. Two others were found as well. I suppose having mice in my studio (the impetus behind the cleaning) has a sunny side as well.

Show Me Some Leg

When I'm totally broke (usually the case as a working artist) I cannot, I must not succumb to my most favorite of obsessions: impractical shoes.
As a size 35 European, my choices in footwear are limited to old lady loafers with tassels, children's shoes and couture footwear from discount department stores. I choose the latter most emphatically.

In my recently cleaned out closet(s)--I am also a clotheshorse as well--I found my beautiful Dolce and Gabbana black and white genuine cowhide slingbacks. Still in their box, I have only worn them once, but no matter. I own them to own them. To admire them. To create my own little shoe museum.

I have little occasion to don haute couture fashion. Usually in cotton leggings and my father's ancient oversize promotional tees from various marathons in the 1980s whilst in the house and only a pair of galoshes to spice up the outfit when I venture out, high fashion eludes my day to day activities.

Without money to spare, yet with an itch for couture, I draw. I draw the shoes I want to own, I paint the outfits I want to buy. Creating fashion through my imagination relieves a bit of my fashion anxiety and most thankfully saves my pocketbook from total destruction.

Art Nouveau, Relaxation and Pretty Pictures

Last night my dog got out. Neighbors across the street sought to corral her back into my house lest she run into the street. Run into the street she did whilst a large truck approached. The truck stopped just in time, but poor Belle was so scared she ran right into the parked truck. She's fine, but I'm shaken up.

My nerves still in an uproar, I sit at the computer, drinking tea trying to calm down a bit. When in these moods, I hearken back to a simpler time by going inside my paintings, seeking solace through Art Nouveau styled organic lines, matte colors, haute couture fashion and pretty faces.

Pictured is one such image. I find her countenance peaceful, her expression calming. She has a certain nobility about her, yet no pretension; her life maybe less complex, less trying than her modern day counterparts. I pretend myself there, and somehow I feel a bit more relaxed.

The Sunbathers

February in Portland means heat wave parties. Donning your bikini, flip-flops and sunglasses in the middle of winter is only an activity those absolutely starved for Vitamin D will do.

Last night I attended one such party. My wonderful friend Neal turned the heat up to 85 degrees, queued up various surf themed LPs, and mixed pina coladas. February in Portland was never so tropical.

Pictured are The Sunbathers. I proclaim to be an avid sun-worshipper and have spent many a hot summer's day cooking myself to a nice golden crisp. I drew this picture in honor of us leather-chesters. Seeking to capture that perfect sense of gluttonous behavior, note the slight snarl on their beautiful faces. Thus I present
Hedonism and Vanity: the sunbathers.

The Black Heart Procession and Artistic License

This poster for The Black Heart Procession was illustrated on the floor of my mother-in-law's Berkeley house. Noting the bands rather dark leanings and thus using various funereal ephemera, I based the illustration on a 1920s burial announcement.

This was my first concert poster for a big-name band. Concert posters are perhaps my favorite illustration project as I usually have full artistic license. Artists themselves, band members tend to trust my vision of their music and allow for complete creative autonomy. Developing my own themes, fonts and color schemes provides the spark to develop a piece that is truly unique yet maintains the band's musical energy.

Sleeping by the Fishes

My father loves fish. One day, when I was little, he decided he wanted a fish pond. Telling my mother of his vision of a backyard oasis replete with two fish ponds brimming with enormous Japanese koi, she quickly dismissed this notion as a passing fancy; another one of his ridiculous, destructive decorating schemes.

He waited until she was at work, borrowed a jack hammer and went to town on our backyard. Twenty years later there are indeed two fish ponds in their backyard (I have long since moved) brimming with small to medium-sized koi, a fountain and two benches; his dream fully realized.

I painted "I Pesci" in honor of my father. A tribute to the fish for a man obsessed.

The Feminine Mystique

My images are primarily based on haute couture fashion portraits from ages past. I would love to have beautiful women posing for me in high fashion, but this is just not the case. Thus I settle for the glamour shots of Edward Steichen and other 1920s and 1930s photographers from which to derive my inspiration.

I sit with a photograph I fancy for hours. Studying the curves of the body, the lines of the dress and the expression of the model ignite a creative spark within. I begin to draw. I may alter her nose, fill in her lips, add a dress bow, change her hairstyle in order give her a bit of a modern sensibility and make her my own. Then I paint. Using gouache, I first see the painting in my mind's eye. I must have a complete visualization before I can paint. I mix the colors using whatever subconscious force brought me there to begin with.

Painting quickly so the gouache dries evenly, the most time-consuming process is the thinking, the visualization. The actualization is rather hurried as I have learned over the years not to over think; to use that inner-drive that forces my creativity.

This painting was executed as part of a series of wine labels for Stella Fino Winery in Walla Walla, Washington.

Art Deco and The Rock Star

When I was seventeen my ten best friends and I (all of whom I am still in close contact with, strangely enough) saw Tori Amos on her Little Earthquakes tour. She was so beautiful. An ethereal red-headed song fairy with a punch not easily missed.

Fifteen years later, Tori is still touring. Now with four other personae to accompany her (I chose the blonde 1920s Art Deco jazz-singer beauty, "Santa" to portray in this concert poster), she has matured--no longer so tortured, no longer as angry.

When asked to execute the illustration for this concert poster at the fancy-pants Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in Portland, Oregon, I put an enormous amount of pressure on the design of this poster: my expectations too high, my thoughts too grand. I wanted to recreate the excitement I felt as a seventeen year old girl, to encapsulate my adolescent tragic sense of self, yet make for an eye-catching poster.

I must say, I no longer listen to Tori, except for a few songs (Leather, Silent All These Years, Cornflake Girl) that take me back to another era entirely.

The fonts are hand-wrought and of my own design and the illustration based on Tori herself (but not as herself).

Illustration Redux--The Concert Poster & The Moleskine

Certain illustrations I feel a particular affinity for. The Portland based chamber rock group Bright Red Paper asked me to do a series of concert posters last winter. Basing my illustration on an Art Nouveau etching found in an antique design book, I sought to capture the tragic vitality of the mime as a means to describe the orchestral musings of Bright Red Paper. The fonts are, as usual, of my own creation and design.

The "Harlequin" finds himself yet again the subject of a project. Reillustrating him to fit the confines of a Moleskine journal and adding a moon and stars, he now graces the cover of these pocket-sized handmade journals (available in my Etsy shop).

Watercolor, Art Deco & the Travel Poster

It has been ages since I have executed a watercolor painting. Nowadays, I almost exclusively use gouache as it produces an even matte tone suitable for screenprinting.

However, if a commissioned piece is to be color-copied from a high-quality scan, watercolor makes a wonderful showing.

The poster pictured draws its origins from a decidedly Art Deco aesthetic. I designed the alphabet used for the font myself based on various Art Deco alphabets. Inspiration from 1920s French travel posters provided beach scenes and coastal play portraying leisure summer afternoons perfectly coinciding with the notion of a summer camp located directly on the beautiful Pacific Ocean.

Walt Whitman & Portland

Whilst strolling about southeast Portland in the seemingly perpetual February drizzle, I spied what is perhaps one of my greatest sources of neighborhood inspiration: a hand-painted sign situated along a streetpole on a fairly major thoroughfare in the beautiful "Rose City" inconspicuously boasting the words of the first great American populist poet, Walt Whitman. His Leaves of Grass is perhaps the greatest collection of poetry of the nineteenth century and "Song of Myself" my most favorite of all.

Everyday I walk my dog Belle, a Mastiff-Lab cross, by the Walt Whitman streetpole (I find this wonderfully apropos as Whitman was a true man of the street, a poet of the senses). Regardless of my present mood, a rather hedonistic creative spirit wells up. My regard for Portland increases despite the present gloominess and my faith in art, culture, society and civilization is happily restored. The power of poetry is quite mighty indeed.

The painting pictured was inspired by my vision of a loud, dark and dirty Victorian era tavern in Whitman's industrial haven of New York City.