The eye of the beholder

The Nativity Façade of the Basílica de la Sagrada Família in Barcelona, Spain.

Once upon a time, long, long ago—the summer before the pandemic, to be precise—my family and I spent a couple of weeks traveling around Spain. In Barcelona we visited the Basílica de la Sagrada Família, designed by Antoni Gaudí starting in 1882. Many of its millions of annual visitors find it stunningly beautiful. 

cobblestoned street
church bells ring
across the centuries

Unfortunately, its charms were mostly lost on me. The lumpy Nativity Façade, supposedly representing images from nature, made me think of a nasty skin rash. The cold and angular Passion Façade, meant to evoke Christ’s suffering, reminded me of the ugly Brutalist architecture I saw in the Soviet Union back in the 80s and 90s. 

At least I’m not the only one to shudder at the sight. George Orwell called it "one of the most hideous buildings in the world.” 

A view of the Alhambra in Granada, Spain.

I found plenty of other architecture to love in Spain, especially the Alhambra, the elegant Islamic palace and fortress in Granada.

where stone turns to lace Alhambra

The experience underscored for me that beauty is ultimately subjective. It means that as an artist, I need to accept that my creations won’t connect with everyone. It also means that I’m not the best judge of my own art, at least in terms of how it appeals to others.

So for the last couple years, I’ve been relying on the wisdom of crowds for big decisions about marketing my work. 

For my book, this spring I polled a focus group of some 20 friends and relations to help me decide which of my watercolor paintings to include and which to axe. I especially needed help choosing which piece would be most compelling on the cover (without the haiku). And I’ve relied on this same process to finalize choices for my calendars of art and haiku.

It’s fascinating to compile everyone’s responses. For each image that someone thinks should go on the cover, someone else votes to leave it out entirely. 

focus group
the conclusions
fuzzy

“flowering plum” is 11 x 14, made of paper, acrylic paint, and adhesive on paper. It appears in the 2022 calendar. © Annette Makino 2021.

Still, some patterns emerge, even if they’re not what I expected. A collage that I would have completely left off the 2022 calendar, featuring a bee in plum blossoms, was a finalist for the cover. The other finalist, a fox in the woods, was not one I had even considered for the cover.

With votes almost evenly split between those two potential cover images, I posed the question on Facebook and Instagram. Responses there skewed toward the fox. I also felt the fox image was more appropriate to the fall and winter, when people are buying calendars. 

But some people said they loved the brightness and optimism of the honeybee piece, especially after the year we’ve had. In the end, I went with the fox, but lightened and brightened the colors to make it more cheerful and welcoming. 

I’m really hoping that my respondents and I got it right, because 700 copies of the new 2022 calendar have just arrived in my studio! I’m very happy with how it turned out and I’m sure it’s a stronger publication thanks to the input I received. 

I hope you’ll find that this collection of landscapes, flowers and animals evokes neither hideous rashes nor Socialist monuments, just joyful celebration of life on this beautiful earth. May this calendar see us through a brighter 2022.

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Makino Studios News

NEW! 2022 mini-calendar: My new calendars of art and haiku are now available on this site and are coming soon to select stores in Humboldt County, California. They feature 12 colorful Asian-inspired collages with my original haiku, which you can see at the top of my collage gallery. These make great holiday gifts. $12 plus tax and shipping.

Joy, Art & Healing: I’m speaking on this fascinating topic this coming Sunday, Oct. 3, from 3 to 4 p.m. Pacific as part of an online panel with four fellow creatives. This is part of a free, 7-conversation series in celebration of a fantasy novel by Lori Snyder, The Circus at the End of the Sea. Register at www.writershappiness.com/JAH2021.

Water and Stone: I’ve just received the third shipment of my book of art and haiku! Water and Stone includes 50 watercolor paintings with my original poems, plus 15 haibun (short prose pieces combined with haiku). It is softbound, 8x10, full color, and 124 pages. Cost is $24.99 plus tax and shipping, You can find it online here, on Amazon and in select local Humboldt stores. Ooh, another gift idea!

New cards coming soon: I’ve got a number of new and updated greeting cards in the works; I’m just figuring out the words for some of the images. Stay tuned!

Made in Humboldt fair: You’ll be able to find my calendars, prints and boxed notecards at the “Made in Humboldt” event at Pierson Garden Shop in Eureka, CA from Tuesday, Nov. 9 through Friday, Dec. 24. This will be the only fair where you can find my work this season.

Twenty golden years

In May, my husband Paul and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary. While our wedding vows were “for better or for worse,” it’s been the best twenty years of our lives. We have had a lot of adventures since then. A year into our marriage, before Paul had even secured a tenure-track position at the university, we took a leap of faith and bought land near Arcata, then designed and built a unique house with a 25-foot wall of windows looking out onto redwoods and tree-covered hills.

We have had to contend with the many challenges of country living. At one point early on, our tap water showed high levels of e coli. Turned out our neighbor’s missing dog had chosen the spot just above our spring as his final resting place. (I’m happy to report that we’ve since dug a well.)

Our first child was born right on our sixth wedding anniversary . . . two and half weeks early . . .  at home . . . by accident. After “catching” the baby, my cool-headed husband snapped a photo, and only then called our nurse-midwife for instructions! (Note: If you ever have an unplanned home birth, dry the baby very thoroughly, then cut the tip off an old sock and use it for a baby hat.)

When we were expecting our second child, we felt brave enough to actually plan a home birth. But because my labor only lasted two hours, the midwife was not yet on hand for the birth. So Paul delivered our second child too, by candlelight, in the birthing tub set up in our living room. Well, as he likes to point out, he is a doctor—of philosophy.

Given our growing family, in 2002 we built a two-story addition to our home including a studio apartment, home office, and art studio. My mother moved in to help with the kids while they were small. She brought along her two pack llamas, Shandy and Dancer, and we often joined them on hikes on the timberland that adjoins our property.

Paul and I at our wedding in 1993.

When the kids were 10 and 6, Paul took a year’s sabbatical. We rented out our home and lived in Maryland and then a small town in northern Italy, where Paul taught an overseas course on the sources of great civilizations.

The kids’ home-schooling lessons included trips to the Coliseum in Rome, the Acropolis in Athens, and the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Our six-year-old soaked it all up and drew these monuments again and again on restaurant placemats across Europe. Meanwhile, our ten-year-old liked the outdoor markets and the chance to hang out with college students, but was unimpressed with her immersion in European history, summing up, “I learned the history of a dusty old brick.”

In 2009, we embarked on yet another big adventure: after twenty years, I left my executive position in international media development, and Paul simultaneously began the process of semi-retiring from his teaching career. Since then, I have had the tremendous gift of being able to focus my time on painting, writing, and developing an art business. Meanwhile, Paul teaches just four months of the year. As for the rest of his time:

retired professor
spends his days in the hot tub
his one-man think tank

Through all these experiences and more over the past two decades, Paul has been my partner and best friend. The poppy painting above is for my darling husband, who loves California poppies, honeybees, and me. This brilliant, funny man with a heart of gold helps me savor the richness of life, and is the key to all my other blessings.

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“let us live” is 5" x 7", painted with sumi ink and Japanese gansai paint on paper. It is available as a print or greeting card.

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Makino Studios News

North Country Fair: Look for the Makino Studios booth at the 40th annual North Country Fair in Arcata, California the weekend of September 21-22. I’ll have some new art as well as cards, prints, tee shirts and books of my work.

Seabeck Haiku Gathering:  I will be presenting on my haiga (art with haiku) at this fun and interesting haiku retreat in Seabeck, Washington October 10-13.

SoHum Art Show: My exhibit at Persimmons Garden Gallery, located at 1055 Redway Drive in Redway, California, has been extended through Sept. 11. Come on out and enjoy one of the last summer evenings with dinner and live music in the lovely garden.