Art has been my calling for as long as I can remember. I started making dolls and paintings as a kid and kept going. A lot has happened along the way, but my true calling to be an artist has never stopped. Through hard work and good fortune I’ve happily blurred the lines between my artistic life, business, family, friendships, and personal myth, a theme I lovingly explored in my book, The Stumpers. I think of my art as a means of introducing myself to the world, but really, everything is rolled into one.
Being raised in free-spirited Berkeley, my family shaped me into the person I am. Anyone who is brought up by artists and entrepreneurs knows that it can feel like a never-ending whirlwind, with lots of ups and downs along the way. One of the best parts of my childhood was having role models who never lost sight of their dreams. Their sense of determination has stuck with me.
After a brief East Coast stint for college, I came home and opened Castle in the Air, a modern-day Renaissance studio and real-life shop of wonders. The original intention behind the shop was to give me time and a venue for my painting. The business took on a life of its own and has helped to develop many artists’ careers, as well as, mine. Our shop and its classes have become a real nexus for creative people, giving them access to materials, techniques and each other. And, we’ve helped revive many “lost” crafts, such as calligraphy and crepe paper flower making.
Castle in the Air was named after a memoir by my Scottish grandfather, the poet and writer, Charles Richard Cammell. Of course, when people visit the shop, they think of the Thoreau quote,
“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.”
A handful of years ago my family started doing just that, beginning work on a new home outside of Sebastopol. My husband and two daughters and I are up in Sebastopol about half the time (Berkeley the other half), and we’ve developed the property according to what makes us feel at home. It’s our little world and a compound of flexible spaces. We have my studio, big tables for meals indoors or out, bedrooms for us and the girls and room for lots of other projects and animals. At the moment, there are chickens, goats and a llama, with other creatures passing through day and night. The entire place has been designed and built by my dad, Denny Abrams. He built many of the custom-made offices, restaurants and retail spaces in Berkeley, including Castle in the Air’s home on Fourth Street.
Around the same time we started developing Sebastopol, I began learning egg tempera painting. It has a very holistic feel to it. I use eggs from our chickens as the binder for my paints, which are all made from natural pigments, and I build each painting layer by layer. The process is one of creating one hundred flawed layers to make one beautiful painting. Each layer needs time to dry before the next one, and I only paint in natural light, so these limitations add structure to my studio time. I have more experience with watercolor, but egg tempera has allowed me to achieve more depth and light in my work; I’ve recently been painting a lot of jewel tones.
Currently, I’m finishing the paintings for my next book, which explores the archetypes found in fairy tales, and I’ve been teaching watercolor illustration classes. Aside from my painting, other recent projects of mine include enamel pins based on fantasy creatures for the shop, as well as, a series of tarot-themed greeting cards with interpretive text on the back.
Dedicated time and space for practice are the best gifts my new studio has granted me. It’s a place where I can put one foot in front of the other, building new paintings and being really mindful about the process. I publish my books under the name Dromedary Press. Besides it being my last name, I like the camel’s symbolism, plodding across the desert and being known as an ungovernable beast. Our family crest includes the motto “Perseverando,” which I took to heart in my art practice a long time ago.
Mindfulness, or being intentional and thoughtful about form and imagination, is very important to my work; it is the underlying philosophy of art. Years ago, I developed a theory of the relationship between art and craft. I call it “old magic.” Clint Marsh and I based The Troll Cookbook on it. Essentially, a craft is the power of transformation. It’s a very human power, turning lemons into lemonade or minerals into paint, but what we can also do, as human beings, is enhance our craft with imagination. This is how art is made. People are rediscovering how deeply nourishing the artistic process is, and I believe that’s fueled much of the current DIY movement.
“The difference between a good artist and a great one is: The novice will often lay down his tool or brush, then pick up an invisible club on the mind’s table and helplessly smash the easels and jade. Whereas the vintage man no longer hurts himself or anyone and keeps on sculpting light.”
– The Vintage Man
By Hafiz
Beyond providing me space for my own art, our Sebastopol home has been a boon for my family and friends. There are quiet mornings and raucous late nights. We had a wedding here a few summers ago. At times, this place gets just as chaotic as my shop or home in Berkeley, but it feels more grounded out here. We call it “The Art Farm”. My dad, Denny, gets to experiment with building, and my older daughter recorded an album here and is working on a second one. Beyond this and my current creative projects, I’m honestly not trying to make plans. I’ll definitely be spending more time in the studio, catching the sun and cracking eggs. This is the foundation Thoreau was talking about; just one step at a time. It feels good.
FAMILIAR COMFORT
The pair of boots on my feet has got to be my favorite item in my studio. I’ve worn them most days over the past ten years. They’ve taken me on some amazing journeys, even just tromping around my shop and studio. I love how the more I wear them the better they get.
