Saturday, December 27, 2025

Tibetan Cham Dance Mask - a DIY free download

Sketch of Tibetan Cham dance mask by Judith Hoffman
My first sketch of a Cham dancer.  The background is a piece of discarded architect's tracing that has layers of different colors of acrylics, with a thin top layer of white applied with a rib.

Happy New Year! This mask is inspired by Tibetan Cham dance costumes. Skeletons represent the disintegration of the body and states of mind. The stylized dance shows the liberation that follows acceptance of the impermanence of life. The dancers usually have crowns with 5 human skulls on their heads and fan shaped ornaments on their ears. I took some liberties to make the mask easier to cut out and fit in a regular sized envelope.

Two people wearing free download Tibetan Cham dance mask made by Judith Hoffman
Tibetan Cham dance mask modeled by innocent but willing bystanders.

There is a video of the Cham dance here.

After testing several ideas for this year's mask, this one was the most appealing. Although Tibetans don't see the skull as terrifying, I think my western feelings about death and the current state of world affairs have crept into the mask. Yes we can be liberated by accepting the idea of death. But I am also thinking about the potential death of our world and our democracy. Is this a time to dance? Probably not in happiness, but maybe in protest. Download the mask here.

I hope you all find some peace and joy in these crazy times.

Judy

Sunday, December 21, 2025

Making art under the influence of old age

Artist book page by Judith Hoffman showing man pointing at row boat with a tree growing from it.
Artist book page by Judith Hoffman with lots of squiggly lines, showing what a shaky hand can do.

I originally started this post to be about aging and making art. There are physical limitations that creep in. But it also became some musings on aging and how I try to accept that.

Much to my surprise, I turned 80 this year. Even after seeing my parents and in-laws age and die, I'm surprised at how hard it is. Of course I have medical things to deal with, but the physical slowing down is what gets to me. I am not very bothered by my wrinkles and sagginess. After all, I am lucky to be alive, to have a home and food, and to have family and friends who love me. And lucky to be able to work on projects that are engaging. But the lessening energy, the physical struggles, are disheartening.

I have had a tremor in my hands for years, it's getting worse. I'm left handed and the left hand tremor is more pronounced than the right. Sometimes when I draw my lines are wavy. It can be frustrating. I try to regard the wavy line as a feature. At times it can blend in well with my drawing style, which is somewhat loose. Warming up helps, finding the right posture helps. Using scissors to cut out things has also become harder. With small things I cut right handed and brace my right hand against my left as I cut. It's much harder to cleanly cut larger things, where my hands can't brace against each other. I think getting tired makes the tremors worse. (My doctor says there is no physical ailment, it's just age.)

Enlarged view of squiggly lines produced by shaky hand, part of aging.
Detail from drawing showing squiggly lines produced by shaky hand. It's a consequence of getting old. They don't always work for me, but here they do. 

I have less energy than I used to. I have always been slow to complete projects, now my books evolve at a snail's pace. In part because they are more complicated, but I also don't get in the studio as much. Many household tasks are ignored. I sometimes lose interest in an art project before it's finished. I am, as always, easily distracted, often more interested in doing something new than repeating what I did last month. It does help to try to make small progress on a project, just a little drawing in a background can re-ignite my interest in the pages I am trying to complete. There are tricks that most artists know,  spending time cleaning in my studio. And spending time with tools and materials, even if it's just to doodle. It also helps to make collage papers, or to cut out things I might use in collage.

I must say, the process of drawing and collaging is still as alluring as ever. Once I start I am engrossed for several hours and end up feeling so rewarded.

As I have aged my priorities have changed. I care more than ever about the process and less about showing the books. Some people want to leave a mark before they die, but that's not me. I would like to have some of my books in public collections, but haven't pursued that much. And I feel that when I'm dead I won't really care anymore. If I spend more time making things and less on entering shows, that's the best way to spend my time. I want to enjoy my life now. 

Artist book page by Judith Hoffman showing a woman on the left, gazing at a creature throwing mythical seeds into the air.
Page from an artist book in progress by Judith Hoffman.

My dad used to say "it could be worse" whenever he mentioned his physical ailments. Meaning he could be dead. I think of him often, and agree completely. 

"... as we move through our lives, the way our bodies change, and ultimately death, can be our teacher. Forgiving our bodies - for dying, for aging, for becoming sick - can feel impossible, even radical, but it's essential if we want to fully appreciate the time we have. We can love our lives, even while knowing that one day they will end." Martine Panzica, from Lion's Roar, November 2025.

Happy Holidays to you all. I hope you will be content with life and feel productive in the coming year.

Judy