Lola Jovan Art Musings and Random Thoughts

Between Atom and Dust

12/9/2024

Between Atom and Dust

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"Between Atom and Dust" - oil on copper panel, 12 x 12 x .25 inches. SOLD

This, then, is the agreement: Learning to live is learning to love, and learning to love is learning to die — the imperative in the inevitable that renders our transience meaningful and holy. The price of this holiness is absolute humility: There is no pact to be made with the universe — we die, whether or not we agree to it, whether or not we have learned how to love in the bright interlude between atom and dust. - MARIA POPOVA

Winter is coming.

The rains and cold have settled in and made themselves right at home here in the Pacific Northwest. The leaves have fallen, the crows are gathering at sundown and the light is soft and brief. It's a good time to contemplate and to create.

We lost one of our crows recently (to avian pox, we believe). He chose our home to spend his final days, perched right outside our window where we spoke to him gently and offered him treats. And as this little loss settles into my bones, it brings back other losses, whispers of the brevity of all things and the importance of making it all count.

Popova's words roil and resonate. The imperative in the inevitable makes me want to hurry up and DO DO DO! But I think it is the very opposite that is required of us. A slowing down, a savoring, allowing the moment to saturate and permeate. Which may or may not include allowing the feisty, frigid ocean waves to dunk me now and again when rockhounding at the coast. :). Yep, I'm all in.

About the art: this is the first in a series of new pieces on copper panel. You thought I was in love with Yupo? I'm head-over-heels for copper. Its is a bit pricy for a substrate, but the oils just love it, and the warm glow of it comes through like no underpainting I've seen. In my quest for the balance between fantasy and reality, abstraction and realism, humans and robots, I found myself quite enamored with this one. The focus here was in capturing her gaze and the set of her expression, while allowing the rest to become abstracted, allowing the earthy background to contrast with the modern figure.

There is a double giveaway going on this month! Woot! Leave a comment on any blog post this month to be automatically entered in the December Reader Giveaway. And follow me on Bluesky (@lolajovan.bsky.social) to be entered in a New Follower/Subscriber Giveaway for yet another piece of original art! And thanks to everyone who subscribes, follows, reads and comments - you make this artist grin from ear to ear!

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The Great Spine of Rock I and II

11/4/2024

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The Great Spine of Rock I

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"The Great Spine of Rock I" - oil on canvas, 15 x 30 x .75 inches.
"The Great Spine of Rock II"- oil on canvas, 10 x 30 x 1.5 inches. These are unframed but ready to hang (click on the images to purchase)

The great spine of rock holds diverse forests, dreamy meadows, skeins of streams, radiant lakes, and rare glaciers. Life ascends even to the highest reaches of the range, thousands of feet above tree line, where gardens of black, orange, and chartreuse lichen adorn the rock. Everywhere a tenacious living skin sheaths the ancient bones of the mountains. - RICHARD J. NEVLE

Here at Malarkey Central, we've got a thing for rocks and for bones. Hunting for, gathering, oohing and aahing, cleaning, polishing and displaying these treasures in rather large quantities. And for climbing on the ancient bones of mountains where we find so many of these relics.

But this affection for the spines of things is also personal for me. My own bones are no longer the strong inner framework they once were. I sometimes wonder if it is my own tenacious living skin holding me together.

And so, while some folks may have spirit animals or celestial guides, my own talismans are stony and bony - oozing strength, resilience, solidity and groundedness. Some of those stones, the agates, are also translucent. A symbol of my becoming more worn with time so the light shines through (a Mark Nepo-ism which I embrace). Because there is a silver lining to most everything, in my rose-colored lenses. Even the slow eroding of the mountains of our own bones.

About the art: inspired by the quote to create a sheath of "skin" on an abstracted landscape, I set out to build a number of layers and a thickness the mountains would appreciate. I began by collecting paint palettes still wet from completed pieces and pressed them against the canvases, building an uneven layer of texture and color. Once those dried, I roughed in the composition with a thick application of dark paint. Allowing it to also dry, then coming in with a palette knife and thick paint in successive wet on wet layers, leaving some of the dark poking through to give edge definition and allowing the wet layers to mingle. Two long months of drying time on these two. Worth every minute!

The Great Spine of Rock II

The November Reader Giveaway begins today! Leave a comment on any (or many) blog post(s) this month to be automatically entered to win a free piece of original art. The winner (or winners) will be announced right here in the blog on November 25th.

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Beauty, Life-Deep

9/30/2024

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Beauty, Life-Deep

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"Beauty, Life-Deep" - oil on canvas, 20 x 20 x .5 inches. This item is unframed but ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)

That must be what the great artists see and paint. That must be why the tired, aged faces in Rembrandt’s portraits give us such delight: they show us beauty not skin-deep but life-deep. - URSULA K. LE GUIN

I am determined to find, appreciate and savor the beauty in aging.

The message we're given in the world is quite the opposite. Which has led me to critically eye every wrinkle, sag, crepe and soft jiggle with suspicion and judgment, followed by a liberal application of miracle lotions and potions.

But as I become an apprentice of self-compassion and mindfulness, I realize each of these judgy moments is telling my very own self how unacceptably inferior I am. Whoa! Wait - am I being mean to me? Funny how we can be mean to ourselves in ways we would not tolerate from others. Hmmmm.

As I wander through our collection of bones here at home (the by-product of being hikers and amateur naturalists), I can see the beauty in each of these relics; the very richness of existence itself. They tell a story - where they were found, what condition the bones are in, how the teeth are worn, which pieces are missing...and so my own bones, still inside my body, have a story to tell. And my muscles and teeth and the lines upon my face. And the hands that painted this piece. There is beauty in a life well-lived.

About the art - the AI bot and I often play with skeletons. It seems to like them, and is very wiling to dress them up. The folder of inspiration images for cheeky skeleton compositions is rather large. But this one! The colors, the texture, the nod to traditional portraiture and the wistful gaze of a skeleton lady missing her love - it grabbed me by the hand and said PAINT! So I did. The focus in creating this pieces was making the forward figure three-dimensional and the portrait figure flat, along with the textured "wallpaper" which implies the natural decay of our surroundings. Another piece that leaped from the paint, intuitive and joy-filled in the creating.

Thanks to everyone who participated in the September Reader Giveaway! Your comments make this blog space deeply meaningful and community-centered. I am so very grateful.

Wonder Mike chose three winners this month - congratulations to Gretchen, Carl and Sara! Send your mailing address to [email protected] and your original artworks will be on the way in a jiffy. Look for a new contest beginning a week from today.

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I Used to Howl

2/26/2024

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"I Used to Howl" - oil on unstretched canvas, 23 x 18 inches. (click on the image to purchase)

I'd love to leave in winter
I used to carry in the weight of a drum
I'd love to leave in winter
The clock keeps ticking and the calm won't come
I'd love to leave in winter
I used to carry in the weight of a drum
(I'd like to howl)
I'd love to leave in winter
(I'd like to howl)
The clock keeps ticking and the calm won't come
-from PULSE VI by Kerala Dust

I Used To Howl

The studio has gone to the dogs.

Winter's chill has crept into our bones, we're craving sun, and every little bit of greenery straining upward for warmth has us hoping spring is just right there.

So there's a bit of growling (and howling and gnashing of teeth) and perhaps a wild look in our eyes. Is that a speck of saliva by the corner of your mouth? Oh, it's got you, too, has it?

About the art: unstretched canvas likes to gobble the paint, so it's perfect when you want to create something a bit sketchy. It lends itself to sallow flesh tones and scribbles, paint applied with a rag and burnished to a pale stain.

Though it appears there are only light washes of paint, there are actually many layers in heavier thicknesses. And while it is a long process to allow plenty of drying time with this substrate, the resulting effect is scrumptious.

This guy is hungry, by the way. Don't let him near the pie.

Congratulations to Mary C.! Wonder Mike chose your name as winner of the February Reader Giveaway. Be on the lookout for package of free art coming your way in the mail. And thanks hugely for participating!

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You’ve Changed

4/10/2023

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“You’ve Changed” - oil on gallery-wrapped linen, 26 x 34 x 1.25. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.

You’ve changed.
Yes, of course I have and so have you
but you don’t see it.
You kiss me and wonder why the leaves are dying
and I try to explain to you that
I am turning to winter,
but this answer is never good enough.
You fell in love with spring.
You fell in love with the girl who danced and laughed and sang,
and now you’re wondering where she went.
You’re wondering why there are snowflakes in my eyes
why my fingers are cool to touch.
Tell me, would you ask autumn to stay forever?
Would you ask winter to hold on?
Do you wish for a draught of summer to last for all time?

Then why do you expect that of spring?
- NIKITA GILL

You’ve Changed

I am in a bit of a conundrum. Puzzling through the path to growth, happiness, flow and finding it increasingly a journey un-embraced by others.

This happens in art just as in life - people love a style or subject matter and are disgruntled when the artist wanders away from it. Change is unsettling, unnerving, sometimes scary. And in life, when people love you for being a certain way, they may get jumpy when you grow into a new version of you.

In the poem, Gill grabs this concept and anchors it to my very bones - there may be snowflakes (or sundogs, or eclipses) in my eyes - I am becoming another season.

In this painting, the motion of the ever-changing landscape spins within the very bones of a tree, which transforms even after the final winter of its productive life. It is never too late; you are never too old for transformation. No matter what others may say.

About the art: I gave the AI bot a photo from a recent hike and asked it for an abstracted landscape. The bot isn’t a fan of painterly abstraction, but it did give me a handful of compositionally interesting “failures”, which inspired this painting. Beginning with a rough sketch with chunky charcoal and blending it into values with gesso to create a toned canvas, then adding layers of thinned oil paint. Resisting the urge to add color. Allowing the paint to move and create texture. Darkening with glazes and then drawing into the paint with a rubber wedge for movement and line. Softening with a cloth so the eyes can rest here and there. Standing back and smiling.

The April Reader Giveaway is here! Wonder Mike and Lilly are busy choosing which original artwork will be going home with one lucky reader. To enter, subscribe to the blog (see column on the right) and then leave a comment below answering this question: do you find yourself creatively (or personally or professionally) stymied by the expectations of others? If so, how can you best grow anyway?

It’s a BIG question! So this month’s prize is not a tiny painting. One commenter will win BIG!

(note: if you are already subscribed, just leave a comment to enter! yay!)

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Between Atom and Dust

The Great Spine of Rock I and II

Beauty, Life-Deep

I Used to Howl

You’ve Changed

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Between Atom and Dust

The Great Spine of Rock I and II

Beauty, Life-Deep

I Used to Howl

You’ve Changed

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