Chiarina Loggia

A printmaker's progress


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Tuesday Tales – Hold Me


Hold Me

Hold Me

                                                                                                                                    Untouched I tremble 

                                                                                                                         In this solitary dance

                                                                                                                                          The music plays on

There is much I can say about this piece, the choice of colors, the significance of the pose, who the model is. Instead I have chosen to use this haiku to describe it. I love haiku. Short, evocative and enigmatic, they can leave a powerful impression and set your mind and heart racing. I hope this combination of words and imagery moves you as it does me.

Hold Me, an 8″x12″ photopolymer gravure etching, is offered this week at $250, unframed.


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Photo Fridays _ A Layered Vision


Worm's Eye View

Worm’s Eye View

My first attempt at layering in Photoshop. Still lots to figure out, but here it is for what it’s worth. Great weekend to all! Big thanks to all who visit and who follow my blog. Remember that in life there are many points of view, and lots of unexpected beauty and wisdom to be found. Cheers!


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Tuesday Tales – I Sit Beside The Fire


Island Heat

Island Heat

My dear friend, Sven, passed away yesterday, just as the sun was setting. He was holding his wife’s hand and he is now out of pain, two very good things. His hearty laugh will no longer be heard and his big bear hugs will no longer be felt, two very sad things. I could go on and on about what a wonderful person he was but my heart is not in it right now. I am too full of grief and sorrow, especially for his wife who now has to carry on without him.

When looking for an artwork that could be a suitable tribute to him I came across the piece above, called Island Heat. The image of two empty chairs looking out onto the sea with the fire behind them seemed fitting, and it reminded me of my favorite poem from J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord Of The Rings. It is a sad, wistful poem that the old hobbit, Bilbo, recites to his younger nephew, Frodo, before he sets off on his harrowing adventure. The poem is titled I Sit Beside The Fire And Think. The second to last verse always chokes me up, more today than usual, as I sit and think of Sven. I hope he is off on an adventure!

I Sit Beside The Fire And Think

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

J. R. R. Tolkien

Island Heat, a 5″x10″ photopolymer gravure etching is offered this week at $100, unframed, $120 framed.


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Photo Fridays – Remembering My Dad


Coming to Canada - March 19, 1964

Coming to Canada – March 19, 1964

Today is my dad’s birthday. He would have been 81, but he passed away in 2009. I wrote about his passing and the effect it had on me in an earlier post. I still get choked up when I read it, even after so much time. But I also smile when I realize where my own life has taken me since then, to new and unexpected love and adventures. It seems my life has always been a series of adventures, beginning with that eventful trip to Canada in 1964. That’s me on the right in the picture above, looking like a little waif.

Looking at this picture I can see character traits in each of our faces that still hold true to this day: a stubborn strength in my sister on the left, a gentle intelligence in the one on my dad’s knee, a kindness exhuding from my mother, and I note she is the only one smiling, and hesitant reservation in my father. (The stranger posing in the background and the huge jugs of wine on the tables still makes me laugh.) Absent are the sister who was left behind in her grave and another yet to be born. I see this picture and I wish my mother’s arm had been around my shoulder for I  look so lost and forlorn. I wasn’t used to change and, to this day, I remember the strange taste and texture of the bread on board the Saturna, though little else except having to go on deck with life jackets in a storm. My mother tells me we were all seasick for a good part of the eight day voyage but I seem to have blocked that memory. I remember nothing of our trip to Naples to board the ship, and only a few images of the countryside while travelling by train to Montreal from Halifax. Again, I do remember our first meal at my aunt’s house when we arrived. It was chicken soup with little bow pasta. It tasted strange as well, and I couldn’t eat much. I was a very picky eater as a child. I still am, though I don’t mind strangeness nearly as much. I have lived in far too many places to let newness bother me. In fact I rather look forward to new experiences and feel restless when life becomes too monotonous.

My father never really liked change or adventure. His penurious circumstance propelled him to a new country in the hopes of a better life for himself and his family. This he achieved quite well. His courage to bring his large family to a strange new world and start fresh with no education, no skills or even language leaves me in awe, and I am forever grateful for the opportunities this opened up for me and my sisters. But my dad never really enjoyed his life in Canada. He spent his years there wishing to go back to Italy to retire. This he never managed to do for he became ill shortly before retirement and was hospitalized for the last years of his life. He did manage numerous trips back and spent a few wonderful summers there. The picture below is from his youth, riding atop his mule, Giulia. I hope somewhere, somehow, that memory of a lost youth is still alive and bringing him joy. I know the thought of it makes me smile.

Copy of dad_and_giulia - Copy-2

Dad and Giulia

A few more pictures of my father can be seen here.

Wishing everyone a wonderful weekend! Hug your dad if he is close. Call him if he is far away.


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Tuesday Tales – Boston Calling


Through The Darkness

Through The Darkness

It is with a heavy heart that I write this post today. The news of yesterday’s tragic bombings in Boston have left me terribly saddened. While any act of terorism and violence is abhorent to me, the fact that  it was directed at a running event brings it just a little closer to home. I have friends who have run the Boston marathon. I run in races myself all the time. These are events that have no political or social agenda. Rather, they are a celebration of human endeavor, spirit and community. It seems especially cruel to have targeted the finish line, the place where feelings of accomplishment and elation should have run high, and the place where families and friends gathered to cheer on the participants. Instead, a shadow of sorrow will forevermore haunt this place and those unfortunate families who were hit hardest with the blasts.

I have no words of comfort for them. There are no reasons that make any sense of such tragedies, other than in the twisted minds of those responsible. The world is as dangerous , and as beautiful, a place as it was two days ago. Only once again we are reminded to pay attention to our lives, our loved ones and our dreams. To be kind and giving and charitable. To try to make the world a better place in whatever way we can. Only then can there be any good out of such tragedy.

The monotype above, measuring 5″x5″, is a demo I did for a class. It is the kind of abstract I like to do that references light and passages, time and space. I thought it would make an appropriate offering for today. It is priced at $60 unframed for this week.

I have also found this video to be a wonderful balm for the spirit. May it bring you peace today and always.


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Tuesday Tales – The Artist In The Mirror


Last week I received a promo e-mail from blurb.com. It prompted me to go on the website to check out a book I had self-published several years ago in conjunction with an art show entitled  Setsuna-In The Moment. Scrolling through the book I was reminded how much I enjoyed doing the layout for the book and using it as an adjunct to the show, using text and design to compliment the presentation of the art in the show. I remembered being asked to create books for two of my subsequent solo shows, Mirror, Mirror and The Body Speaks, and decided then and there to finally make them.

I have described the themes and works for these shows in earlier posts here, here and here. As I begin the work on these books I would like to showcase some of the pieces that will be included in them.

Through The Glass - In Her Eyes

Through The Glass – In Her Eyes

This week I would like to present one of the pieces from Mirror, Mirror. It is a photopolymer gravure etching titled Through The Glass – In Her Eyes. I chose this piece for it presents a running theme through all my shows, that of the artist functioning as a mirror to our collective souls.To do so requires a willingness to open oneself to scrutiny as well as the courage to look within oneself for truth and to present that truth as honestly and fully as possible. This piece does that on several levels.

The image is one seen literally through glass, from a photograph of another print behind glass on the wall of an art gallery. The first print, seen below and titled In Her Eyes, is from a previous show of the same name. This print had a number of poems as part of the work but they were partly covered by the images and moreover the writing was backwards, requiring the viewer to look at the print through a mirror to read them. They were poems of longing and deep sadness. Together with the image and its rich yet somber coloring, they expressed the plea of a hesitant soul wanting to be seen.

In Her Eyes

In Her Eyes

With the subsequent print the image has been reversed so that the words are more legible.  However, photographed behind the glass, it now reflects the walls and windows of the gallery, hiding some of the words and image, thereby creating an interplay of obfuscation and revelation. Inked in black on a stark white paper, it has a graphic quality that invokes the bold nature of both modern photography and traditional printmaking, giving it a sense of timelessness. All of these changes allude to the role of the artist as ‘exhibitionist’ and mirror in society, but also to the fine balance between the personal and the empathic that the artist must find in taking on that role.

Through the Glass – In Her Eyes, an 8″x10″ photopolyner gravure etching, is offered this week at $200, unframed.

In Her Eyes, a 17″x24″ monoprint, is offered this week at $600, unframed.