- Published on
C1ND3R3LL4
"C1ND3R3LL4" - oil on paper, 21 x 21. Available here and at Artfinder.
“Fairy tales are rife with transformation — from beast to handsome prince, from dirty scullery maid to well-dressed princess. It is perhaps no coincidence that nature in the Cinderella stories facilitates transformation, for nature itself is a changeable thing, from season to season, from a sunny day to rain, from an egg to a flying bird in a matter of weeks."
― Marie Rutkoski
“Fairy tales are rife with transformation — from beast to handsome prince, from dirty scullery maid to well-dressed princess. It is perhaps no coincidence that nature in the Cinderella stories facilitates transformation, for nature itself is a changeable thing, from season to season, from a sunny day to rain, from an egg to a flying bird in a matter of weeks."
― Marie Rutkoski
Here we are, back in the realm of fairytales, where the AI bot has provided the inspiration to paint a robot Cinderella. I wonder if that means the AI wants to be a real girl? Because everyone, at one time or another, wonders what it might be like to be something (someone, some way) other than what they are.
I have always been dazzled by transformation.
Whether it was rearranging the living room furniture as a kid (which my mother, for some reason, never minded), painting a wall, cutting off (or growing out) my hair, even simply pulling weeds to make a patch of the garden look better - something about transformation makes my eyes light up. I understand Marie Kondo's desire to tidy. Except I see it as magic. Perhaps it is the hope that accompanies visible change. If I can change this small thing, maybe I can also influence that big thing to be different. And by different, I mean better. Safer. Happier. Rut-less.
And, well, if you want to go all out, you can always change your name. :)
Whether it was rearranging the living room furniture as a kid (which my mother, for some reason, never minded), painting a wall, cutting off (or growing out) my hair, even simply pulling weeds to make a patch of the garden look better - something about transformation makes my eyes light up. I understand Marie Kondo's desire to tidy. Except I see it as magic. Perhaps it is the hope that accompanies visible change. If I can change this small thing, maybe I can also influence that big thing to be different. And by different, I mean better. Safer. Happier. Rut-less.
And, well, if you want to go all out, you can always change your name. :)
About the art: beginning with Arches oil paper and some liquin-thinned paint, I toned the paper in two sections, blue upper and the dark brown/violet mixture in the lower section, leaving space for the robot. A quick colored pencil sketch, then shading the robot with a small brush and thinned paint. Moving around the painting, alternately softening (with brush or paper towel) or hardening lines (with brush or rubber wedge) until the right balance was achieved. Adding in the details with a tiny brush, then glazes of color for the background robot body, glaze of white mixture for the tutu. Adding hot spots at the bottom and resisting the desire to make the background look like anything specific. This one makes me grin every time I walk by it in the studio.
It's time for the May Reader Giveaway! Leave a comment below describing a moment of transformation (or the hope of one to come) in your life. One (or more) lucky reader (s) will be drawn at random by the giveaway team of Wonder Mike and Lilly to receive a small piece of original art. Hooray!
Coming soon! A Song for the Hunted, a new collaborative on-line show with the amazing mosaic artist, Helaine Abramson. Details and sneak peeks coming in June. Get ready to get WILD!
- Published on
"This Morning the World is Made of Wind" - acrylic on deep cradled birch panel, 9 x 12 x 1.5. Ready to hang (sides are painted; no need to frame. Hanging wire attached). Part of the series "A View From the Gorge". Available here and at Artfinder.
This morning the world is made of wind,
nearly everything creaking or flying,
even the shingles vainly lifting
as if the house, which at dawn has bobbed
white-belied to the wave-tossed surface,
were drawing wind into its gills.
from Winter Morning Walks: One Hundred Postcards to Jim Harrison by Ted Kooser.
This Morning the World is Made of Wind
On the day of Winter Solstice, we can breathe with a delicious sigh, knowing the days will begin to lengthen and the world will warm. Perhaps a silly thought, with January and February still firmly in our sights, yet it makes me smile. We've come this far. And now, the turning point.
In the meantime, the windy, dark and snowy gorge beckons. I am slowly mastering the art of the right layers, the best pace, the seeing eyes. My hiking companion points out how challenging it is to keep our attention on the surroundings when descending - the mind wants wander to everyday things when the downhill easy stride begins. Even in this place of exquisite beauty, there is monkey mind. Oy.
In the meantime, the windy, dark and snowy gorge beckons. I am slowly mastering the art of the right layers, the best pace, the seeing eyes. My hiking companion points out how challenging it is to keep our attention on the surroundings when descending - the mind wants wander to everyday things when the downhill easy stride begins. Even in this place of exquisite beauty, there is monkey mind. Oy.
Help!
With 2021 approaching, I want to go FISHING! That is, cast a wide net for feedback on what YOU, dear reader, want to see more of (or less of) in this blog in the New Year. More how to? Less philosophy? Video? More appearances by Wonder Mike? More abstracts? More whimsy? Less of everything except PIE? All comments are welcome!
Now's your chance to get SUPER OPINIONATED and GET REWARDED!
Leave a comment below with YOUR wishlist for malarkey central! Wonder Mike will pick a winner at random to receive piece of original art FREE! And thank you SO much for your help. xo
With 2021 approaching, I want to go FISHING! That is, cast a wide net for feedback on what YOU, dear reader, want to see more of (or less of) in this blog in the New Year. More how to? Less philosophy? Video? More appearances by Wonder Mike? More abstracts? More whimsy? Less of everything except PIE? All comments are welcome!
Now's your chance to get SUPER OPINIONATED and GET REWARDED!
Leave a comment below with YOUR wishlist for malarkey central! Wonder Mike will pick a winner at random to receive piece of original art FREE! And thank you SO much for your help. xo
- Published on
"Longing for Visible Form" - oil on deep cradled wood, 14" x 11" x 1.5". Ready to hang (back has been pre-wired for hanging). Available here and at Artfinder.
Everything in the world of soul has a deep desire and longing for visible form; this is exactly where the power of the imagination lives.
- JOHN O'DONOHUE, Anam Cara
This week I've been contemplating the physical body and its function as a bridge between inner and outer worlds. I find myself in the company of a small (but growing) community of people whose bodies are highly sensitive to things - often chemicals, mold, and allergens but also energy and emotion. I am surprised by how often we (and by "we" I mean myself, especially) try to override our body's messages.
Everything in the world of soul has a deep desire and longing for visible form; this is exactly where the power of the imagination lives.
- JOHN O'DONOHUE, Anam Cara
This week I've been contemplating the physical body and its function as a bridge between inner and outer worlds. I find myself in the company of a small (but growing) community of people whose bodies are highly sensitive to things - often chemicals, mold, and allergens but also energy and emotion. I am surprised by how often we (and by "we" I mean myself, especially) try to override our body's messages.
Longing for Visible Form
"Your mind can deceive you and put all kinds of barriers between you and your nature; but your body does not lie. Your body tells you, if you attend to it, how your life is and whether you are living from your soul or from the labyrinths of your negativity," writes O'Donohue.
It is so easy, when the busyness of life and the barrage of media heaps things on top of us, to treat the messages of the body as symptoms to be subdued instead of clues to a more significant situation which wants our undivided attention for a minute or two. This week, I am going to sit in my body (and less in my mind - heavens help me is that even possible?) and see what it has to say. With any luck, it will also want to paint.
It is so easy, when the busyness of life and the barrage of media heaps things on top of us, to treat the messages of the body as symptoms to be subdued instead of clues to a more significant situation which wants our undivided attention for a minute or two. This week, I am going to sit in my body (and less in my mind - heavens help me is that even possible?) and see what it has to say. With any luck, it will also want to paint.
About the art: This is the final painting inspired by the Expressive Seascapes course with Pauline Agnew. In this one, an acrylic painting (left) was turned sideways and used as a compositional structure for a seascape. Oil over acrylic allows a lovely scraping back and peeking through of some of the under forms and colors, which makes the final piece particularly well-layered and interesting. You can see the remains of the moon in the lower right of the final painting, as if the sea had swallowed the moon, or as if it were reflected from a position outside of the painting.
All of my completed paintings are now hiding in corners, knowing full well I am looking at them with new eyes and wanting to vandalize them in the near future. :)
