Lonnie Lardner – Page 35

When Fish Become Abstract Art

December 31, 2016 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) The watchful eye of a deep sea Cuttlefish. Shot by Lori Pond via iPhone at the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

Somewhere between sea monster and masterpiece.

My artist friend Lori Pond recently made a quick trek up north and came back with some astonishing images. Creatures from the deep sea, providing gestures, texture, and color that accomplished painters would kill to create.

Lori said she had a magical moment with a Cuttlefish at the Monterey Bay Aquarium (Pic #1), when she cozied up to the glass — and he bellied up to the babe. He was less than 2-feet long, and that’s his eye dead center in the photo. Experts say these curiosities only live about 18 months, and they are described as “very emotional.” I am so taken by this close-up, with all its interesting patterns and visual gifts. Even his curvy black eye could pass for a Matisse paper cut-out.

(Pic #2) Close-up, Blue Jelly. Photo by Lori Pond.

Technically, Cuttlefish are not fish — they are marine animals of the order “Sepiida,” and belong to the class “Cephalopoda,” which includes squid, octopuses and nautiluses. They have eight arms, and they hold the record for fastest color change — shifting hue in an instant — given a perceived yasmin threat. They have amazing eyesight, and can shoot out ink; they have jet propulsion, stalk their prey sideways, and are master hunters. I think I’m in love.

The Blue Jellyfish Lori captured are just as beautiful, from an artistic standpoint. (Pic #2) They give me a sense of floating flowers with fresh young petals reaching out toward the sun. The Monterey Bay Aquarium says jellies are the biggest attraction for its two million visitors a year. And for those who can’t make it, they provide a 24/7 LIVE JELLY CAM.

Art inspired by nature is nothing new. Lori says she pays homage to iconic illustrator/biologist Ernst Haeckel with every shot she took. (You may recognize his style in Pic #7.) I think the beauty lies in the unexpected — the detail on a fin or a face, the neon lights emerging from a jelly’s belly like iridescent spaceships. Once again, whether she knows it or not, nature surrounds us — and supplies us — with an infinite source of creativity.

(Pic #2 and #3) Jellies at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Photos by Lori Pond.

(Pic #5) “Reflective Jellies.” Photo by Lori Pond. Oregon Coast Aquarium in Newport, Oregon.

(Pic #7) Victorian era illustration, Jellyfish, by Ernst Haeckel.

So What Does My Smog Check Have In Common With Michelangelo?

November 30, 2016 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) Detail, Creation of Adam, ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, Rome, 1508-1512. Fresco by Michelangelo. Or is it?

Notice anything odd about the iconic Renaissance painting above?

Hey history buffs: Is it possible Italian master sculptor/painter Michelangelo stopped in to get his car smog checked just before he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? I mean, is it at all conceivable? Hear me out.

On my own recent mandatory visit to the Smog Shop, I found myself so hateful of having to be there, and stay there, that I took out my camera to “play” in the waiting room. My eyes fixated on these beautiful patterns and marks in the old painted, cracked, cement floor. All these gorgeous textures and colors — I was mesmerized. (Pics #2, #3, #4, #5). I suddenly realized why they were so meaningful to me: they were (unplanned) modern day recreations of background (sky) images in famous tramadol historical “frescoes” like those of Michelangelo.

So for the fun of it, with the help of Photoshop, I replaced the original crumbling sky in the “Creation of Adam” panel (Pic #6) with a shot of the Smog Shop floor. (Pic #2). So Pic #1 is a fraud.

I hope Michelangelo doesn’t mind my messing with his masterpiece — I suspect he’s cool with it — cuz after all, he’s the one who famously said, “I’m not a painter, I’m a sculptor.”

P.S. – Big fan of his in “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”

(Pic #2) Detail, smog shop floor, waiting room.

(Pic #3 and #4) Detail, smog shop floor, cashier line. Yes, those are my toes.

(Pic #5) Detail, smog shop floor, restroom.

(Pic #6) Original image, authentic background, Creation of Adam, Sistine Chapel.

(Pic #7) Smog shop in Westlake, California.

It’s All About That Paint, ’bout That Paint, ’bout That Paint….

October 31, 2016 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) Defining focus: One of several dozen young artists expressing imagination though acrylic paints in South Central LA, Halloween 2016.

“If all you have is a hammer, then everything looks like a nail.” — Abraham Maslow

So the other day, in reference to something I can’t for the life of me remember, my husband threw out this old proverb. I had no earthly idea what point he was trying to make, and as I often do, I just filed the conversation somewhere inside my most underused medial temporal lobe.

Then over the weekend, Hope’s Nest (hopesnest.org) volunteers and artists held our annual Halloween art workshop in South Los Angeles. As always, it filled me with a sense of joy, and I quickly began planning our Christmas session. Suddenly, in celebrating the excitement of the moment, and the anticipation of the next, I had an epiphany. I realized that the bliss I experience from of these events, comes from the same source: putting kids together with paints.

(Pic #2) 9-year-old Leimomi showcases her work. Yes, her shirt says, “Always be yourself, unless you can be a unicorn.”

At that moment, I realized Halloween is not about candy, nor costumes; the treat in the “trick or treat” for me, is watching the little ones tap into a creative spirit that they almost never get to show off.

For me, I know now that Christmas is less about the presents, or even the spirit of the season, than it is about crayons and acrylics, the boundless sprinkling of glitter, and kids who rarely get to play with these materials.

And Easter? Easter is about resurrection, but it’s the rising of artistic energy from the kids — toddlers to teens — as they design their one-of-a-kind Easter eggs.

That’s when that proverb crawled it’s way back into my brain. I realized it applied to me. All I have, metaphorically, is a paint brush, so in a real way for me, everything looks like a canvas. That’s obviously an oversimplification, but the thought of it makes me smile. Wanna paint?

Check out a few of our favorite creations here:

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