About the Art
The cover artist, Sandra Lindström, lives in Northern California in a town on the coast of the Pacific Ocean.
Here's some of her notes about the cover of Clueless at the Top:
“Faceless forms carved in gray granite constitute the pyramid. As the bodies reach awareness and turn away from the pile, they create a fissure. As the individuals come toward the viewer, they gain color, expressions, individuality...The closer they are to the viewer, the happier their expressions, and the more colorful they will be. The figure on top of the pyramid is a bit unbalanced, and also faceless.”
A little about her background:
I dropped out of high school the first week of eleventh grade and retired to the library. When I turned 18 I took up artist modeling because I couldn’t afford to attend art school as a student. I followed the instructors around in my bathrobe and listened to their critiques of others’ work. In the 70’s, as I emerged from the diaper pail miasma, a friend drug me off by the scruff to James Maxwell’s watercolor class at College of the Redwoods. That got me going again after a long hiatus with small children. A few years later James Maxwell gave me a year’s scholarship to the Mendocino Art Center fine arts program. I studied drawing with Charles Stevenson, Color and Notan with Dor Bothwell, Etching with N’ima Leviton, and Sculpting with Leona Walden. Ken Rice further facilitated my studies by depositing money at the local art supply store, knowing I’d buy groceries if he’d given me cash. Then there was a stint in the dress shop, Midnight Sewing Machine, that I owned with my sister. We made all of the clothes and I did a lot of embroidery. Over the years I’ve taken many classes at College of the Redwoods with various artists, including Bob Rhoades (drawing, watercolor), Bob Zvolensky (ceramics), and Lolli Jacobsen (textile surface design, which is how I got caught up in silk painting). Because I’m rather nearsighted, I like lap paintings. My paintings are not broad statements but intimate conversations. I tend to think of colors in terms of edibility, though I don’t confine myself to that – otherwise I'd have to throw out all those lovely blues.