I am constantly reminded of the unceasing creativity of artists, both those that adorn our gallery walls with their art and those who I admire from a distance. I’m also reminded of the level of ingenuity of many artists as they seek, probe and push alternate media and different forms of expression. I’ve lost count of the types of visual art and media that I have seen – encaustics, scratchboard, oil on glass, glass on panel, horsehair in ceramic, engravings on copper, photographs on metal, watercolors on masa paper, sculptures on manhole covers, polychromic polymer clay, fiber on fabric, to name but a few.
Interestingly, I’ve been recently seeing more artworks based on recycled materials. In fact, making art from, with and on recycled materials and media is more popular than ever thanks to our growing ecological sensitivity, and perhaps increasing thriftiness. So, what a beautiful surprise it is to see art appearing on one of nature’s most ubiquitous substrates – portraits carved into fallen leaves.

The intricate process of carving leaves seems to have begun in China and is spreading across the globe. There is even a Leaf Carving Art association in California. Apparently, the best leaves for this endeavor come from the Oriental Plane tree, which is native to much of Asia. The leaves are first dried, cured and prepared in a complex process. Then, the artist carefully removes the outermost skin of the leaf to reveal the inner translucent layer. Slowly and skillfully the artist scrapes away selected areas of the leaf revealing the final work of art within. The entire process is lengthy and intricate, but the results, as you can see here, are exquisite. Some artists even take commissions. Perhaps these leaf portraits of Marilyn and Mao will one day be as valuable as their Warholian counterparts.

Images courtesy of Daily Telegraph. Dean Prator, President of Leaf Carving Art in California.













I’m still drafting my definitive answer to the question “what makes great art, great?” As you may guess this is no simple task. After all, the question has taxed philosophers, pitted aesthetes against one another, confounded critics and perplexed mere mortals, such as myself, since cave dwellers first etched and painted on the walls of their prehistoric (more precisely, 