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The Light of Everything Not Broken

1/29/2018

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"The Light of Everything Not Broken" - mixed media on paper,  14 x 10.  Available on Artfinder.

It was a blustery weekend...the kind where winds seem to whisper change gonna come and you maybe grab a sweater, even though it isn't cold.

Over the weekend, a member of our local art tribe lost her husband after a long battle with illness.  A dear friend lost her furry companion of many years.  And my long departed mother had another birthday without enjoying any cake.  There is sadness and change in these things, all entangled.

My usual modus operandi with weekends like this it to pour on the productivity and muscle my way through with a herculean task list.  But Pongo reminded me there are good smells in the wind and leisurely walks to be taken, so instead I scaled down everything to just painting and walking and raising my nose to sniff the breeze.
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This week's chapter in Nepo's The One Life We're Given is about grace.  ​"Effort is keeping the break in our heart open, while grace is the light of everything not broken washing the break clean."   There is a stream of life we all return to, in the end.  A stream of unbrokenness, an unseeable river connecting all living things.  As Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (say his name ten times fast!) points out in his book, Finding Flow, we can join that stream when our efforts are wholeheartedly pursued, whether we are working in our gardens, washing dishes or painting.   Effort prepares us for grace.  We can't plan it or control when it happens.  We can only dive in.

As January draws to a close with a super blood blue moon, it is time to dive in to the next thirty paintings in thirty days challenge.  Let's wholeheartedly pursue some magical painting together under the blue moon.   Howling is optional. :)
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Driving Off the Edge of the Beara Peninsula

1/24/2018

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"Driving Off the Edge of the Beara Peninsula" - mixed media on aquabord, 20" x 16".  Available on Artfinder.

I meandered back into the land of abstracts as I continue my marathon of paint-overs.  This one arm-wrestled me to the ground and held me captive until it was done.  A determined piece.  My mind was stuck in a moment from Ireland...driving down the mountains on the Beara Peninsula as the sun began to set.  It glowed from behind the mountaintops, but ahead of us the valleys went dark and lights winked on in the farm houses below.  The road dipped and turned so it seemed as if we would drive over the very edge.  Untamed beauty set against a darkening background.  One of those halcyon moments I return to over and over, catching my breath again each time.  Sigh.
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Part of me wants to live in one of those little farm houses, so remote and nestled snuggly into the valley of monoliths.
There is little left of the "failed" painting underneath this one.  Maybe a hint of blue, a little texture from the paper collage.  But what does remain is the idea of bravery.  The girl in the original piece was based upon a brave woman I know, who leaped out of her comfort zone into art last year.  And the energy of that courage remains in the new piece.

Whether we are leaving the shore and exploring the deep water or driving over the edge of the mountains in search of beauty and adventure, we are courageous in our pursuit of a life lived well and fully.   Even if that adventure is limited to the edges of our canvas and paint, we leap into the darkness and trust fall into whatever is waiting.  I may have my eyes tightly closed and be screaming at the top of my voice, but leap I will. :)
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Away From Shore

1/22/2018

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"Away From Shore" - watercolor on paper, 12" x 9".  Available on Artfinder.

January has nearly come and gone already.  This is the time  when I normally plan out the coming year, set all kinds of goals, strategize and plot.  But I feel compelled to let go of the reins and let the horse meander (or gallop!) where it may this year.  I have a hunch things will be even more delightful this way.

More from Mark Nepo in The One Life We're Given:  It's always harder to sail toward a fixed point, because you will inevitably have to cross the wind several times to get there.  In contrast, a boat moves its fastest and cleanest when it simply follows the wind wherever it goes.  When devoted to experience, we discover our way.

The wind surely enjoys buffeting me about.  I wonder what the wind will think if I just let go and tumble across the sky?

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This piece, for example, was inspired by a demonstration by Jean Haines.   Her style isn't my style.  Yet something about her process whispered to me.  Using a discarded piece of watercolor paper (it had some old sketch marks on it) and a number of washes and textures, these lovely blooms began to emerge.  Truly a transformed "fail", this one.   Haines' technique definitely follows the wind, and it is full of joy. 

More from Nepo: We can't know what direction awaits us if we hover too close to the shore...we must leave the shallows...and make our way into the open, where we can drift in the deep.  This is not a year to hug familiar shores, dear reader!  Which has me wondering - what shores do you hug tightly?  What might happen if we let go together?
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Melancholic Whispers

1/18/2018

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"Melancholic Whispers" - mixed media on aquabord, 24" x 18".  Ready to frame, or can be leaned against a wall upon a shelf.  Available on Artfinder.

I didn't mean to paint this one.

There was an underpainting, then shapes, then texture.  Surely an abstract?  I looked away to handle a situation.  When I returned, there she was.

In truth, I am certain she was influenced by a series of events.  Including the violent death of a large muscovy, hit by some careless driver and left in the road outside our door.  His female companion stayed by him, waiting for him to wake up.  It wasn't easy taking him away while she looked on.  I apologized, sympathized, encouraged her to leave the road.  I wondered if the driver would ever know how deeply that moment sank into my heart.

I've started reading a new book - another by Mark Nepo.  Right away, his words fit the day. 
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"I faced what everyone has to face: the prospect of dying without having true lived..."  from THE ONE LIFE WE'RE GIVEN 

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What if my life ended right then and there, just like Mr. Muscovy?  Have I truly lived?  Will the lingering sweetness of the last piece of perfectly ripe watermelon I ever ate sustain me for all of eternity?  Have a tasted so much of life that I am fully and completely satisfied?

It has been seven months since my dad passed away.  As I am sure many of you may have experienced with your own parents and grandparents, I watched the man discover all the things he really wanted to do just as life was taking away his ability to actually do them.  

Nepo advises us to "honor the truth of our experience and learn from those who've loved us."  On a day which, on the surface, seemed full of sadness and reminders of mortality, there was the gift of this reminder - we can chose to live wholeheartedly right now, seize this day, this moment, and wring every drop of experience out of it.

The universe, in its odd sense of humor and synchronicity, brought up this song on my playlist in the studio.   A melancholic whisper with a haunting melody.  
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A Donkey Day

1/16/2018

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"Jack Wants Like a Piece of Pie"  - wool over armature, 14" long by 9" tall.

I've created a ... donkey.  Thanks to the ever talented Gin Blishe, I am obsessed with needle felted creatures.  A rabbit wasn't enough all by itself to be a menagerie, so meet "Jack".  He's got a taste for some pie.  This chubby mule was a pure joy to make, and learning a new skill keeps me so thoroughly engaged that hours and hours went by without me knowing it.  Pongo made certain I knew when lunch time had passed, and then when walk time had come and gone.  He's sniffing around the donkey, wondering if it's a new toy.  BACK AWAY FROM THE DONKEY!  I can only imagine how quickly Jack would become a mound of fluff.
This month I was focused on revisiting failed paintings.  Until I painted a fail on top of a fail, and then I decided to try something else for a bit.  It might have something to do with a huge boulder rolling downhill covered in things gone wrong, unexpected stressors and contractors coming and going over the last few days.  The muse isn't fond of distractions, interruptions and stress.  Sigh. But I feel completely revitalized after playing with wool, and am ready to go back into the studio again.

Well, maybe I'll just order a kit to make one more animal first. In case I need more woolen therapy.

While we wait for the postman to deliver said kit, let's explore the meaning of the donkey as a spirit animal.  Donkeys have the reputation for being stubborn, but it's really higher intellect and self-preservation - if they sense something is dangerous, they simply won't do it.  If the donkey is your spirit animal, you are gifted with the ability to instantly trust your instincts and intuition without question - supremely confident in your own inner guidance system.

As a beast of burden, the donkey symbolizes being helpful to others.  But there is a caution in there - be certain to set boundaries or risk becoming entirely immeshed in take care of others' problems.  Your lesson is to learn to say "no."

​If a donkey shows up in your life, it is time to make your own decisions, tune out the opinions or advice of others and to stand your ground on important issues.

Though often seen as less glamorous than other creatures, the donkey is an intelligent, gentle leader who guides others through the darkness.  The perfect message for us during Martin Luther King Jr's birthday week. :)
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Resplendent Morning

1/11/2018

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"Resplendent Morning" - mixed media on gallery-wrapped canvas, 24" x 12".  Ready to hang.  Available on Artfinder.

We all learn as much as we wish to and no more. We learn in different ways, sometimes by not learning…. My way is by trial and error, by groping, stumbling, questioning. - HENRY MILLER

Oh Henry.  Yes and yes.  Trial and error...stumbling.  My methods exactly.

The month of extreme painting make-over, flip or flop  (art edition) continues.  In this piece I tackled two goals - to make-over an old painting AND to add a new twist.  After a field trip to Blick and a basket of florescent paints, I was ready to roll.  

But first, let's define a "failed" painting.  It can mean a painting that is obviously ugly.  Or a piece that just misses the mark.  Or one that I particularly liked, but no one else did (a marketing fail).  Or one that everyone else liked, but I couldn't stand.  Or, finally, a painting that is of a certain age that no longer qualifies for competitions and no longer represents my style as an artist.  Sheesh!  That's a lot of fails!  
The original piece behind this painting received a lot of attention, but just never flew the coop.  It was time to give it a new life.  I didn't expect it to change to completely!  All that remains is a few streaks of red and orange and a bit of texture.  The rest is gone.  I decided to show you the original, dear reader.  A reminder to us all not to feel too precious about our art, but to go boldly forth and throw paint.  Even if it is thrown on an existing piece.

​This was my first foray into florescent paints, of which there is only a hint in the new painting (I think it would be very easy to go overboard with this).  But it really makes a POP that I am quite fond of.  I embraced the vibrant colors of south Florida, even as my heart pines for the muted grays and greens and misty dark colors of Ireland.
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Star Whisperer

1/9/2018

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"Star Whisperer" - mixed media on cradled hardwood, 12" x 12". Ready to hang.  Available on Artfinder.

To paint is to love again, live again, see again. To get up at the crack of dawn in order to take a peek at the water colors one did the day before, or even a few hours before, is like stealing a look at the beloved while she sleeps. The thrill is even greater if one has first to draw back the curtains. How they glow in the cold light of early dawn! … Is there any writer who rouses himself at daybreak in order to read the pages of his manuscript? Perish the thought!   - Henry Miller

Another artist introduced me to this book by Henry Miller, To Paint is to Love Again, and the article in the link.  Sigh.  I connected with his words immediately. 
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I'm a self-taught artist.  While on the one hand, this makes me fiercely dedicated and determined, on the other hand it leaves me without a real root in art history.  So I had no idea Henry Miller painted, or that he wrote a book about art.    

But this quote...it is exactly what I do.  I sneak up on whatever I painted the day before to see if it changed overnight.  Most times, it has.  Now I realize this is just my view of the piece changing with a little time and distance, but it is such an eye opener that it feels rife with magic.  Some mornings I cannot wait to turn on the studio lights before even making my coffee, just to catch a glimpse of a painting caught unawares.  

This month, I am focused on "failed" paintings...those pieces piled up in the corner or under boxes because they just didn't sing.  This little sweetheart was one of those.  She sat for months in the corner, looking sad and awkward, finished but not right.  It's kind of funny, because I paint versions of this piece often, so you'd think I always get it right.  But no, these characters have minds of their own, and this one was crazy stubborn.  Until she wasn't.   I am so delighted she decided to sweeten up and embrace the paint.  I will be stealing looks at this one for awhile.:)
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Cloud Walkers

1/5/2018

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"Cloud Walkers" - mixed media on paper, 15" x 11".  Available on Artfinder.

This is the second of two "failed" pieces brought back from Ireland and my days of throwing paint with Bridget.  This one became a surreal landscape...somewhere hidden in this piece are giants walking through the clouds.  With a fierce storm holding much of the U.S. in a grip of wind and blinding snow, I can easily imagine giants hurling weather down from high in the clouds.  Perhaps they will tire of their shenanigans, but in the meantime, there is this painting. :)
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It is officially the end of the holidays here, with my son heading back to school today, the tree tucked back into the attic and the ribbon and wrap all gone for another year.  My husband and I are mumbling about giving up treats and exercising more.  The stores are bursting with Valentine's candy and cards.  I fully expect swimsuits to arrive in the next few weeks (which only further emphasizes the need to exercise more) and then it will be Halloween...

Time is racing, running, sprinting faster than I can possibly keep up.  And so I will drag my feet and dig in my heels, determined to slow things down.  Which can best be accomplished by painting or yard work.  I plan to do both.

The first art exhibit of the year was hung yesterday.  I find so much beauty in these gatherings of painted souls.  There is  an abundance of creativity and imagination in the world; I feel it is full to bursting.  Maybe this is the reason for swirling storms and cloud walking giants - an explosion of feisty creativity from color-saturated heavens.  

And now, curl up in your blanket, grab a hot cup of joe and gaze at the people of the whale.
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Ancestral Guardians

1/3/2018

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"Ancestral Guardians"  - mixed media on paper, 15" x 11".  Available on Artfinder.

There's no place like home.

Unless you have more than one place that feels like home, like Ireland does to me.

So, in this case, there is no place like my own studio. :)  I am back in my paint pajamas, delighting in the things paint will do when you just let it do its own thing.  This piece began in Listowel during a marathon painting session with Bridget.  It was a "failed" painting, which was repainted at least six times, then dried and brought across the Atlantic to see if it could be resurrected. I guess this one wanted to be finished here in Florida, because I am now so happy I didn't leave it behind.

I'm also thrilled that 300 lb watercolor paper can withstand a beating and many layers of paint. This paper is a workhorse!
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Normally, January 1st would see me diving into the semiannual 30 Paintings in 30 Days event hosted by Artist Leslie Saeta. Fortunately, she postponed the paint marathon until February this year, which gives me a lovely pause and a gentle slope to climb until then.  It also give YOU, dear reader, the opportunity to consider joining in the melee!  There is nothing quite like it to jump-start your mojo, and to give that pesky inner critic the heave-ho.

There is a cold front blanketing the country, even in Florida, where cool temperatures and rain feel like a gentle hug from Ireland. It's the perfect weather to organize the studio, contemplate new projects and to purge everything that makes me feel ho-hum. It is nearly a ritual with me, this clearing out of things that don't bring me joy.  And that includes paintings and art supplies, many of which find themselves re-homed (or painted over) during the clearing process. This clearing process makes space for new things, experiences, people...like reserved seating for VIPs. We just don't know who or what they are yet. 
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Here's the blue wild, where
tiny dreamers ride beasts, speak
​ birdsong, hold the moon.

(by poet Mary W. Cox)
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​Art prints available on request
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