There is so much busyness and hurrying in the modern world.  Some of it self-imposed, some of it imposed by others.    We begin to think it is normal, expected, beneficial, even. I am the WORST offender on this topic - productivity is balm for my angsty-ness.   

So that's that.  I am tossing out my "to do" list today (EEEEK!  PANIC!) and just going with the flow.  Oh, and perhaps I should set down this broom, too.

"It isn't 'resting bitch face' ", I say to my family, "it's MY FACE."   They don't believe me.  But truly I have not mastered (yet) the art of gracefully handling pain (or gracefully sitting down, apparently) and certainly have no chance of winning any game where a poker face is required.   Minerva and Mia have much to teach me.

The summer solstice arrives today - the longest day, the shortest night.  Plenty of time, dear reader, to contemplate all those balls you're juggling and the beams you're holding in place.  And the tick tick tick of father time, reminding us of its finiteness.  Or, we could jump into the mindset of the mouse, observing from a safe place, wondering why humans are so odd and perhaps going back inside the clock for tea and biscuits.  Hmmm.  I say we have tea.

"Pair, Pride and Quartet" - mixed media on gallery wrapped canvas, 24" x 48" x 1.5"  Ready to hang.  Available here and at Artfinder.

My son stood by himself in front of this canvas last week, wondering what the heck was going on. Weirdly fascinated, he kept staring and studying.  I smiled broadly when he told me this - there no greater compliment to an artist creating something peculiar than to have a fascinated observer.

I credit (and blame) artist Mary Pohlmann for this odd and quirky piece.  She introduced me to Bizarre Beautiful magazine, which I promptly subscribed to.  The first issue arrived, and my jaw hit the floor - whoa.  So odd.  So elevated.  So bizarre.  And so beautiful.  

Add to this weird recipe the portfolio growing from the "Ten Minute Monsters" exercise each week with my intern, and you have a formula for other worlds, pure imagination and a sense that Willy Wonka is lurking somewhere in the studio.  (He is! He is!)

My heart found a home in this piece. I want to parachute with nincompoops and leap over mountains with dear-lions. There is magic here, and just over the ridge lies a path strewn with candy corn that will lead us on our next adventure.  Let's grab hands and GO! 

​And I would be working on said painting right now instead of writing this, except I already used up my hour for the afternoon.  Sigh (and a bit of foot stomping).  I am pretty sure there is a raised eyebrow going on in the other room. 

Lately I've been excavating my own stories.  Unearthing some gems, but mostly examining the bones of my beliefs and my own mythology.  It is hard work, this digging.  Like the pupa preparing to emerge from the cocoon, I struggle to break free of old patterns and rigid constructs which no longer serve me well.  Sometimes these are deeply imbedded, ancestral patterns.  Other times it is just a fondness for a second cup of coffee. That universe - always with the jokes.

Excavation (for me) is easier when visual aids are used.  This piece allowed me to imagine new paths and patterns, and will  serve as a reminder of the gems I've found along the way.  And it is a powerful image all by itself on the wall.

​Hmmmm, I wonder... is there still time for more coffee? :)