Day One Hundred and One: Nest

Wrapping a coiled armature to create a vessel is an ancient technique, no doubt learned by our ancestors from observing birds' nests.  Here, Nesting Bird sits in a coiled and wrapped nest of fabric strips and threads, made far more randomly and hastily than any real bird would construct a nest of her own.
There's a sweet, homely, comfort about a nesting bird: a subject worthy of further exploration.
Peggy

Day One Hundred: A New Nesting Bird

Tonight's bird was much more successful, since I actually followed the directions--duh!

She's not quite finished, but I've got to get to bed, since I'll be waking up at 2AM to watch The Royal Wedding.

I woke up in the wee hours to watch Diana and Charles get married, so many years ago.  Such a sad ending to that fairy tale wedding.

I like to think that Prince William's mother is smiling down on him tonight, and his beautiful bride.

Peggy

Day Ninety-Nine: Oh Dear

Oh, dear.  Tonight I decided to make a darling little nesting bird from Agibail Patner Glassenberg's marvelous book The Artful Bird, only I thought I'd make some 'slight' alterations to the pattern, and use patchwork scraps for the fabrics.
Well, obviously I don't understand this thing about the gussets, those odd pieces that give a two-dimensional shape its third dimension, and my poor little bird has somehow completely lost his head, and is lopsided on his bottom half and keeps tipping over.  And, my studio is now a huge mess.
Clearly, it is time to go to bed, and start over in the morning.
Next time, maybe I'll follow the directions.
Good night, all.
Peggy

Day Ninety-Eight: A Dodo Bird

Today is John James Audubon's birthday. 
I drew this Reunion solitaire Dodo bird, Raphus solitarius to mark the event.  Unfortunately, this dodo bird, along with the other two known species, are all extinct.  They once lived on the Mascarene Islands in the Indian Ocean, but these slow, clumsy, and flightless birds were unable to defend themselves against man, and by the eighteenth century, they were all gone.
Audubon never drew a dodo bird; he wasn't born until 1785, and by then these birds were extinct.  His masterwork, The Birds of North America, is generally considered to be one of the finest collections of natural history illustrations of all times.  I had the great good fortune of seeing the original watercolors at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston many years ago, and it is truly an amazing accomplishment.
But Audubon wasn't a very nice guy.  In order to accurately paint his birds, he shot dozens, often hundreds of a single species, and then would wire the dead birds into realistic poses.  It's true that before photography, drawing from a dead bird was the only way to be accurate, but his slaughter was excessive.
His obsession with publishing his masterpiece put his family into serious financial straits.  His wife, who bore him many children, was forced to work to support the family, while Audubon went off again on one of his lengthy trips to paint birds.
And he employed a number of other artists to paint foliage, flowers, insects, etc. in his paintings, but he never gave any of them any credit.
Still, his realistic paintings were a new and daring way to depict birds, and they have certainly withstood the test of time.  He remains a master of the genre.

Happy Birthday, Audubon.
Peggy

Day Ninety-Seven: A Rayon Mesh Origami Crane

Tonight's bird was one of the most challenging to date:  it is an origami crane made from a square of rayon mesh.  Who knew that such a thing was even possible?  I saw this package of origami paper down at McGuckin's today, and I just had to get it.  It's really not paper at all, but a very loosely woven netting material, that feels like fine window screening.  When I sat down to make the bird, it was like working blind.  Though I was familiar enough with the sequence of folds, my creases wouldn't hold.  Moreover, I was looking through every single layer of the folded piece, seeing all the layers at once:  a truly surreal experience for anyone who is familiar with the process of making origami.  It was as if I were looking inside and through the structure, as I was creating it!  It's hard to describe how odd this felt.
Aside from the technical difficulty of folding and creasing a material that felt more like wire than paper, it was impossible to see what I was doing.  I might have been better off if I had closed my eyes, and just made the folds from memory.
As you can see from my final result, I failed miserably with the points of the beak and the tail; the material was stretching and shredding as I worked.  But still, it is an amazing little bird.  I'll definitely have to practice this many times to improve my technique with this strange material.
Origami is an awe-inspiring art:  to take a piece of flat paper and make a three dimensional form with just folding--no cutting, no gluing, no clipping--is magical.  Now, with this transparent material, it's inner secrets are fully revealed!
Peggy

Day Ninety-Six: A Be-Ribboned Easter Bird

Today was Easter, so I thought I'd make a bird in bright Easter colors and add some ribbon plumage. I think she looks quite pretty in her Easter finery! Perhaps she and Eggbert will start a romance. Who knows?

Happy Easter, everyone!



Peggy

Day Ninety-Five: Eggbert

Eggbert, the egg shaped bird, is done, just in time for Easter.  He's sitting in some Easter grass in a tiny teacup, waiting for the Easter Bunny's annual visit.  In case you're wondering how big he is, he's not all that much bigger than a hen's egg.
I think this idea has a lot of potential, and it's one that I'd like to develop.  But for now, I'm just happy I finished him in time for Easter.
Happy Easter, everybody!  And may all your chocolate bunnies be solid, not hollow.
Peggy