Jen Jovan Art Musings and Random Thoughts

Seababy

7/30/2018

"Seababy" - acrylic on paper, 22" x 15" with deckled edges. Available at here and at Artfinder.

I'm taking a break from all this medical recuperation and letting my minds wander to the magical beaches of Ireland...where the ocean is wild, the cliffs are rugged and the babies are fearless adventurers in surf and sand. Many thanks to sweet Bridget, an Irish lass with the most photogenic of children in the most beautiful of lands, for allowing the use of her photo at Ballybunion to inspire this piece.

This painting was a lesson in looseness for me. I cannot look up, down or side to side, and can only loosely hold a brush. In order to see anything, I have to be many feet from the paper, which requires me to hold the longest of brushes at the very end of the handle. And yet....I am thoroughly delighted with this painting and the groovy textures which resulted from my own awkwardness.

When I first saw the photo of this wee one facing the sea with her shovel, I gasped a little. She is so small against the wild atlantic backdrop - but that is my fearful adult self speaking. Her stance, facing the sea and armed with a shovel, says determination, bravery and adventure! She's not afraid. The sea calls her, wild divine child, to come and play. And so she does. Let's tag along.

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Wishbone

7/26/2018

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"Wishbone" - mixed media on paper, 15" x 22". Available here and at Artfinder.

There is so much to say but so little movement rationed to each healing day right now. Movement saved for a little painting, clean teeth and a change of clothes. These typed words take nearly today's allotment. But with each new day, a little more movement is deposited into my healing bank. I am grateful.

I have a wishbone. Made of metal and donor tissue, a new structure working hard to assimilate - to become a part of me. It hurts. Like anything foreign. Anything as hard as steel. Or titanium.

On my desk sits a form from the surgical center - "how to thank the donor family." I read it every day, struggling with words. How can you properly thank someone for the gift of a portion of their lost beloved? A piece of them lives on in me - a wish for never-ending health and life. A wish for connection. A wish for love that never leaves us. A wish for a spine that will not crumble.

When words won't serve, there is art.

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Wednesday Mash-Up

7/18/2018

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There will be a brief hiatus in posts over the next few weeks as I recover from surgery. What better way to begin the break than with a GRAND FINALE a la 4th of July fireworks style? So here is a mash-up of many things all rolled into one wild and crazy post!

"Enter the Hive" - mixed media on mat board, 12" x 8". Available here and at Artfinder.

I am playing with small pieces this week in the studio, letting the surface speak and the colors play together. I am still fascinated by what paint does on mat board, and have raced through my stack of boards in a short time while experimenting with various medium. Watercolor, acrylics, inks, pigments and oils all do something just a bit different on mat board. This piece (left), was inspired by the bee swarm in and around our house this week. So many bees through such a tiny opening. And they manage to go it without damaging their delicate little bodies and wings.

The folks at the Vatican could learn a thing or two about pushing many tourist bodies through a small opening by observing the bees.

"Simple Cypress" - mixed media on mat board, 12" x 12". Available here and at Artfinder.

More on mat board. This one using gesso, acrylics, a spray bottle, charcoal and colored pencils. The silhouettes of cypress trees throughout Italy have me a bit enamored right now. They manage to make every landscape look a little more elegant. Imagine your own house with a couple of giant cement lions and a driveway lined with cypress trees...ok, unless your driveway is 4 feet long and you have a fear of lions.

Here is some information about Italian cypress trees from a gardening center post, which describes them as "A Tall, Dark Italian." All the single ladies, you can have all the tall, dark Italians you want, planted in your own yard.

And here's a little something to grin about...this happy buddha, (do click on the link - I adore this painting!) created by new artist in SoFlo. A bit of joy to infuse your week with the potential for spontaneous giggles. The artist is a groovy, good-energy human, too. Thank you, Sharon, for putting this happy stuff out into the world!

"Wash Away Your Troubles" - acrylic on aluminum panel, 6" x 4". Available here and at Artfinder.

A piece of tiny art on my favorite substrate - aluminum panel. This was created with the leftover bits of paint on my palette over several weeks - a little here and there, smudged and dabbed and scraped. It's tiny, but mighty. Drop it into a floater frame (attach with velcro) and you have instant wow for that one little spot in the house that doesn't already have art. :)

(shhhhh - floater frames and velcro are a super secret framing solution)

This post began with the bees, so let's wrap it up with them...literally! See sweet little bee nests made of flowers. Now go on and have yourself a playful day. :)

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Charlie (and musings on branches of meaning)

7/16/2018

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"Charlie" - acrylic on aquabord,
16" x 20". SOLD.

This week went to the dogs. And also went with them, to a heavenly dog park with treat-laden bushes and never ending games of fetch.

Meet Charlie. He was adopted at an old, old age. Deaf, blind, incontinent and failing, he recently went to that great dog park in the sky at the truly advanced age of seventeen.

This handsome boy's favorite pastime was draping himself over the furniture like a wet noodle. Charlie was both the color and consistency of pancakes. Yet he was the lead dog in a house of many, and the other full-sensory dogs followed HIM out of the house each day. Charlie was a good leader, right until the end. I am honored to have been commissioned to paint this sweet boy as a keepsake for his family.

"Liam" - painting by Brit Tate

My own daughter's rambunctious puppy, Liam, ended his earthly journey this weekend, after a long struggle with uncontrollable epilepsy. He went on his own terms, in her arms.

We want to spare our children from this kind of pain and grief, yet we are helpless to do so. We cannot stand in the face of suffering in their places when life launches ugly bombs. We can only listen and love.

My daughter's life journey, much like my own, has been filled with mountains to climb. The universe has great confidence in her strength - and this weekend I saw that strength in action. #proudmama.

Mark Nepo (oh yes, still stumbling my way through The One Life We're Given) said this: "No one knows how to live or how to die. We only know how to love and how to lose, and how to pick up branches of meaning along the way." These were not my own furry sweetlings, yet there are branches of meaning for me in these encounters - a reminder of the fragility of life and love - the need to grab and hold and love and cherish right now.

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Franklin P. Rabbit

7/12/2018

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"Franklin P. Rabbit" - mixed media on aquabord, 20" x 16". Available here and at Artfinder.

If you've been following my dizzying summer, you know I am t-minus one week until spine surgery. And I am completely terrified. Thank goodness there are literally eight million things on my to-do list to keep my monkey mind from spinning. Painting, of course, but also preparing our home for a little recovery time and making lots of soup and soft foods (which the doc says I will want, but I wish he had prescribed cake and donuts instead).

But twinkling and humming beneath it all is a heartfelt, casebound, full color illustrated book of charming magic and twisting tales called The Storyteller's Apprentice which is just weeks from landing on my doorstep.

Publishing a book is like birthing a baby...if you are an elephant with a long, LONG gestation. Years go by while creators create quietly in their writing nooks and painting studios. If you are lucky, a publisher will raise an eyebrow and express interest once you tiptoe into the world of asking to go to print. EEK! It is like asking to be mowed down by a hundred thousand NOs before that soft well maybe. We were some of the lucky ones who received a whispered yes.

And that is when the next marathon begins. Editing, tweaking, rewrites, repaints, ranting and hair-pulling and stomping of feet. One day, the editor says "hey - it's time to print this thing" and you fling yourself onto the sofa for a week-long binge of HGTV and chocolate and, well, maybe a glass (or vat) of wine. Until the reality of um, well marketing sets in.

Geez oh man! Now you are REALLY working! All-nighters on website conundrums and press releases and promotional materials. Event planning and people pleasing and begging and dragging yourself to bed in the wee hours with lists of things to tackle in the morning.

And then the editor shows you a proof of some of the book pages...and it is like seeing an ultrasound of the baby elephant. Suddenly you forget all the years and hair-loss and days of dragging butt. Your eyes light up and get misty and you're all "oh my goodness OH MY GOODNESS" and feeling like the luckiest human on earth.

I know, I know. The diaper stage of a baby elephant is nearly here. Once this baby is born there will likely be less sleep, piles of stinky poo and a whole lot of crying. But right now all I can say is "isn't she CUTE???????"

Pre-orders for The Storyteller's Apprentice begin August 1, with shipping in early September. Follow the book on Facebook and like our giant baby on Twitter.

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Wands and Wandering

7/10/2018

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Let's talk about a Cleveland entrepreneur and artist I met a few weeks ago - Joey A.

This enthusiastic middle-schooler makes hand-crafted wands. Light as a feather, perfect to "swish and flick". Hand turned, carved, stained and packaged. Each with gorgeous little curves and knobby bumps as if they came straight out of a wand shop. But he is much more than just a wand creator and carver. Joey also has that one skill that eludes most artists and creatives - a business mind.

In addition to creating custom wands, he and his business partner designed a logo (Twin Beasts) and started a YouTube channel to help launch their brand. To order your own Twin Beasts Custom Wand email Joey.

I could use a magic wand this week. And a hoard of minions. I wonder if Joey also makes minion hoards?

"A Bird of a Different Color" - mixed media (including pigments made from pollution) on 300 lb watercolor paper, 15" x 22". Available at Artfinder.

Back in the studio, playing with new pigments made from toxic waste. That's right - paint from pollution thanks to a Kickstarter project which I was thrilled to help fund. This piece began as an experiment with the pigments, which are fun to mix with paint, water or gesso. I walked away from it overnight, and in the morning there was this bird.

If I've learned nothing else from painting, it is that the paint is always, ALWAYS boss. So I followed the paint (or pigment, in this case). And like the Family Circus comic, when you follow one thing, you start wandering and it leads to another, sometimes unrelated thing, like this bit from The Wizard of Oz, which prompted the name for the painting. Hmmm - is there something psychedelic in these pigments? :)

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Painting Withdrawal Syndrome

7/5/2018

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I haven't painted for three weeks.

And yet I am overflowing with art.

From Florida to Ohio to Italy to Ohio and back to Florida again. Everywhere art. The Cleveland Art Museum, the Cleveland Youth Wind Symphony, a wand-maker (more about him in another post), Tuscany, Cinque Terre, Florence, Rome, the Vatican, the street artists and street musicians and graffiti and food and fashion. All art.

My head is bursting with ideas, colors and movement. My body is weary and aching and done in. My neck and back...well, we won't even discuss them.

painting withdrawal syndrome

I will go gently into my studio and begin to process all I have seen and tasted and smelled and felt and thought. There is too much. I don't know where to begin. But I know that I will start. Even these little sketches, scribbly and scratchy - pen on paper - a beginning.

Some extra strong Italian coffee might be just the thing I need. Our bus driver, Mariano, kept a personal espresso maker on the bus. Maybe my studio needs one, too?

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Seababy

Wishbone

Wednesday Mash-Up

Charlie (and musings on branches of meaning)

Franklin P. Rabbit

Wands and Wandering

Painting Withdrawal Syndrome

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