"Flying Free" mixed media on cradleboard, 8" x 8"

This is the summer of letting go.  Parting with things no longer needed or used, places I was accustomed to and habits unhealthy or stale.  The summer of loosening my grip on children now grown and on parents passed on.  And somewhere along the way this summer, I fell into a similar theme in my art.

Loosening up, which is roughly the complete opposite of my mark making (tightly drawn circles and tiny squiggly lines, closely gripped finely nibbed pens) and letting go of intentional lines and marks was decidedly challenging, at first.  Opting for primitive instead of polished, textured instead of smooth, splotchy over pristine.  Intuition over intention.  Painting over prior pieces depicting tight control and order.  Using my hands and fingers and wrong ends of brushes, wet into wet and charcoal on paint over tissue over more paint over whatever was underneath.  Initially, my shoulders were tight, my teeth clenched and my brow deeply furrowed.  Until...magic!  Emotion!  Simple faces and concepts overwhelming me right in the heart, emerging from paper and board and canvas and paint-smeared hands.  Letting go, it seems, is glorious and exhilarating!

This piece is the result of a studio play day.  Loose.  Unintentional. And yet I love her little face and wide forehead.  Her pencil-scratch hands and scraggly hair.  She emerged on her own, wanting to be created.  And I have already forgotten what was underneath.

This piece is available.  Inquiries: imajenation@gmail.com

"Tree Spirit", mixed media on cradleboard, 10" x 9"

While searching for my art tribe in south Florida, I've come across a bunch of nuts.  Literally!  Coconuts.  Parts and pieces, chunks and strands, primitive fronds falling wherever they please, despite HOA restrictions to the contrary.  The majestic coconut palms, asserting their right to self-prune and propagate, had no idea that I suspected what they were up to.

I watched them warily for the first few days.  Contemplating their strange nut clusters and odd trunks, the scruffy wildness of some varieties next to the sleek, towering nobility of others.  Until a gift of a coconut bunch straight from the tree found its way to my front door.

After a day or two of enjoying fresh coconut water and making a variety of coconut-berry custards, I became mesmerized by the woody stalks and husks accompanying the coconut bunch.

"Forest Keeper", mixed media on cradleboard, 12" x 6"

Still in my pajamas one morning, I grabbed my pruning shears and some gloves and tackled the bunch.  Wrestling and carving and snipping and shearing until a pile of hulls and stalks grew at my feet.  (After a weekend of coconut smashing on the driveway to harvest coconut meat, I am sure the neighbors were not surprised to see me in this strange get-up having another coconut moment.)  I dragged the pile into my studio and began assembling the pieces like parts of a puzzle.  Tribal headpieces appeared almost immediately.

Within a few days, a tribe began emerging from the birch board bases.  Like ancient faces in trees, this trio reminded me of the wild beauty within everything and everyone.  Bits and pieces of palms dropped without ceremony became my forest and playground, an instant sandbox of inspiration and creation.  And I was transported to a Floridian Neverland of lost boys and girls wearing tribal headdresses, playing hide and seek with mermaids and dodging crocodiles in the lake, running through yards at dusk playing kick the can and groaning as the lights came on and it was time to go home.

"Into The Woods", mixed media on cradleboard, 13" x 6"

Those coconut palms welcomed me with manna from the trees, an instant tribe of imaginary playmates and an unlimited supply of art fodder.  Life is good here.

These pieces are available, and will be on display at Ciel Gallery in August.  Inquiries: imajenation@gmail.com.

"Wendy Was A Wildflower" - mixed media on cradleboard, 6" x 6"

There is a kind of retro, kitschy saying that goes something like 'Bloom Where You Are Planted'.  It has been bouncing around my brain this week as I walk our new neighborhood and experience first hand the blooming tropical foliage of south Florida, complete with hedges that seem to grow into monsters overnight after a heavy rain!  The saying is meant to apply to people, of course, and so I am earnestly focused on blooming here where I've been planted.

Relocating is many things, but to me, most of all, it is a great adventure.  And with any great adventure comes the opportunity to reinvent oneself - to focus in on aspects you most treasure and to leave behind the things you aren't content with.  A new beginning...like a new batch of clay waiting to be molded into something extra spectacular.  Any act of creation is a work in process.  There is trial and error, an "aha" and an "oh no!" on occasion.  The important thing is to keep sculpting your  one wild and amazing life.  Keep the clay supple and moist, keep working it until it becomes something you love.

Wildflowers bloom where they are planted. Without apology, with vibrant hues in clusters, carpets and clumps.  This week I am channeling my inner wildflower.   This piece appeared out of my new studio, the first to emerge!  A wildflower of a girl, vibrant and strong.  Sculpted of paint and tissue and sun-bleached and shredded tea bags, she reminds us all to bloom wherever we are, as bold as we can be.

This piece is available.  Inquiries: imajenation@gmail.com