This has been an incredibly busy year personally and professionally. I will be back in the studio starting in October and working on a new body of work. I'm always trying to push myself with color and texture and I'm just really looking forward to painting again. As always, my studio is open for visits and I still have some work available for purchase. If you are interested in a visit, I do these by appointment, and I'm always open to commissions as well. Thank you to everyone who purchased from me this year. Your support is truly appreciated as always.
Cheers...
Carolyn
Cheers...
Carolyn
1028 PODCAST WITH COREY OCHAI
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So I had the opportunity to hang out with Corey Ochai for an hour to talk about my career and to hopefully give out some information to artists that are struggling. You are definitely not alone, and remember you are never to old to start something new. Check it out on YouTube and give it a like. I'm so thankful for all of you that have viewed or haven't viewed it yet. Enjoy! www.youtube.com/watch?v=G1XVpJSsyy8&t=2s
BIG POP UP EXHIBIT AT THE OAKLANDER HOTEL PRESENTED THOUGHTROBBERS GALLERY thoughtrobbers.com/
Join me on October 6th for this super fabulous pop up taking place at the Oaklander Hotel. Join me and 29 other local artists for an amazing night of art, libations, and music. See you there! www.facebook.com/events/850229929833802?ref=newsfeed
PETRICHOR
Super excited that I will be writing for Petrichor an on line art mag created by Emma Riva. Read all about it below and be sure to subscribe here: petrichorpittsburgh.com/
Emma Riva
“Petrichor” is the earthy smell in the air right after it rains. In Pittsburgh, where the smell of petrichor frequently hangs in the air, we give directions based on what used to be places. My first home in the city was “over by where Poli’s used to be.” Poli’s, the seafood restaurant known for its golden lobster handles, no longer exists, but its memory is a marker.
Petrichor is the lingering, leftover smell of a downpour. It’s a word for the beauty of how memory shows up in the present moment. This smell represented something fundamental about Pittsburgh to me. It’s also the name of the purple and gold hexagon in the top right corner of the above photo, a beautiful work of glass by Smoking Joe Perry that I purchased when I decided to start this magazine. This magazine, Petrichor, is not just about memories. It’s about the present, here, now. We’re going to feature glitz and grit, glamor and grime, galleries and gutters, all together under the bridges, rivers, and mountains that make up our city. Beyond lofty metaphors, Petrichor is just an art magazine to highlight some of the creative work going on in Pittsburgh and start conversations about it.
Sometimes we’ll branch beyond that, since anyone who knows me can tell you that I have a weird way of just knowing people everywhere. You’ll hear from me, Emma Riva, frequently, as well as a host of other contributors. We have some exciting stuff in the works. We’ll get weird. We’ll have fun. We’ll probably say something stupid, and hopefully say something smart to make up for it. This city is a great place to be creative. I can’t pretend that I speak for every single Pittsburgh artist. No publication can. But Petrichor is here to spark conversations and keep it real.
“Petrichor” is the earthy smell in the air right after it rains. In Pittsburgh, where the smell of petrichor frequently hangs in the air, we give directions based on what used to be places. My first home in the city was “over by where Poli’s used to be.” Poli’s, the seafood restaurant known for its golden lobster handles, no longer exists, but its memory is a marker.
Petrichor is the lingering, leftover smell of a downpour. It’s a word for the beauty of how memory shows up in the present moment. This smell represented something fundamental about Pittsburgh to me. It’s also the name of the purple and gold hexagon in the top right corner of the above photo, a beautiful work of glass by Smoking Joe Perry that I purchased when I decided to start this magazine. This magazine, Petrichor, is not just about memories. It’s about the present, here, now. We’re going to feature glitz and grit, glamor and grime, galleries and gutters, all together under the bridges, rivers, and mountains that make up our city. Beyond lofty metaphors, Petrichor is just an art magazine to highlight some of the creative work going on in Pittsburgh and start conversations about it.
Sometimes we’ll branch beyond that, since anyone who knows me can tell you that I have a weird way of just knowing people everywhere. You’ll hear from me, Emma Riva, frequently, as well as a host of other contributors. We have some exciting stuff in the works. We’ll get weird. We’ll have fun. We’ll probably say something stupid, and hopefully say something smart to make up for it. This city is a great place to be creative. I can’t pretend that I speak for every single Pittsburgh artist. No publication can. But Petrichor is here to spark conversations and keep it real.
