- Published on
Even Dragons Have Their Endings
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Even Dragons Have Their Endings
oil on Yupo
11 x 14 inches
This item is unmounted and unframed
(click on the image to purchase)
So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings.
J.R.R. Tolkien
Last week's post on loss garnered a lot of wonderful reflection from readers and followers. People letting go, people embracing empty spaces, people valuing connection and depth and eschewing non-reciprocal relationships and situations. And for the most part, we all agreed that seeing our way past loss on a larger scale (the chaotic present world) was perhaps an unravelable tangle.
So when this piece appeared on the easel, and the Tolkien quote decided to become attached to it, I was struck by the concept of endings and finality, of moving past what our hearts desire an into a calm curiosity about what's next?
To use Tolkien's words as a launch pad, perhaps we are in the fire now, globally and also (some of us) personally. It's hot, it's uncomfortable and dragons live a long, long time. It is hard to think of snow when we're sitting in the fire. But the snow will come, the dragons will have their endings and a new era will unfold.
To use Tolkien's words as a launch pad, perhaps we are in the fire now, globally and also (some of us) personally. It's hot, it's uncomfortable and dragons live a long, long time. It is hard to think of snow when we're sitting in the fire. But the snow will come, the dragons will have their endings and a new era will unfold.
That doesn't change the need to react to fire and dragons now, no no no! We must! And we do. But it does mean we can also begin to allow our curiosity about what comes afterward to blossom and grow. To make a space for something else, even if that something may take a long time in coming.
About the art: this piece emerged from a call-and-response moment in the studio - this color calls me, that color responds; this movement feels right, that movement feels next; this tool wants to be used, and that tool raises its hand and yells "me next!" Maybe it is a response to all of the wildfires here in the PNW now, my heart sitting out there with the trees and creatures and willing them to safety. The unpainted edges of white Yupo feel like cooling snow, which is coming, along with the rains. Soon, so soon.
The August Reader Giveaway continues! Not one but TWO lucky readers and commenters will receive a small landscape painting free! To enter, subscribe and leave a comment on any post during the month of August. The winners will be announced right here on September 1. And thanks to everyone who reads, comments and shares this site - it warms my heart. xo
- Published on
Renunciation
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Renunciation
oil on canvas panel
20 x 24 inches
This item is unframed
(click on the image to purchase)
The road to human development is paved with renunciation. Throughout our life we grow by giving up. We give up some of our deepest attachments to others. We give up certain cherished parts of ourselves. We must confront, in the dreams we dream, as well as in our intimate relationships, all that we never will have and never will be. Passionate investment leaves us vulnerable to loss. And sometimes, no matter how clever we are, we must lose… It is only through our losses that we become fully developed human beings. - JUDITH VIORST
I've been contemplating loss.
Loss in the wider world (human rights, decency, compassion, freedom), how those losses impact my small world, and also the losses associated with living a life.
Some attachments are willingly forgone - it was nothing to embrace a vegetarian lifestyle many years ago, for example. A joy, even, which continues today. Some attachments are severed, rather than given up - when people leave or physical abilities vanish in the blink of an eye (or at the blunt end of an accident). And some attachments erode slowly over time, until one day you wake up and realize they are gone, whatever (or whoever) they were.
In my best moments of loss-wrangling, I have embraced the empty space, allowing it to be just that - empty - knowing it creates room for opportunity.
Loss in the wider world (human rights, decency, compassion, freedom), how those losses impact my small world, and also the losses associated with living a life.
Some attachments are willingly forgone - it was nothing to embrace a vegetarian lifestyle many years ago, for example. A joy, even, which continues today. Some attachments are severed, rather than given up - when people leave or physical abilities vanish in the blink of an eye (or at the blunt end of an accident). And some attachments erode slowly over time, until one day you wake up and realize they are gone, whatever (or whoever) they were.
In my best moments of loss-wrangling, I have embraced the empty space, allowing it to be just that - empty - knowing it creates room for opportunity.
And in my worst moments of navigating loss I have held on with clenched fists, breathless and bracing myself, resisting the inevitable. It never goes well.
When I look back on all of the embraced empty spaces and what they have become, I am dazzled, gobsmacked and bowled over by the joy, the fortune, the pure magic of what came to fill those spaces. And if I focus on that, the next renunciation is easier, more graceful and more peaceful.
I am unsure how this works with the wider world and those losses, but I am contemplating it, allowing space for something, anything to make those losses feel like openings.
When I look back on all of the embraced empty spaces and what they have become, I am dazzled, gobsmacked and bowled over by the joy, the fortune, the pure magic of what came to fill those spaces. And if I focus on that, the next renunciation is easier, more graceful and more peaceful.
I am unsure how this works with the wider world and those losses, but I am contemplating it, allowing space for something, anything to make those losses feel like openings.
A little animation sing-along for your Monday!
About the art: beginning with a gesso'd canvas panel, I roughed in the figure with a long brush laden with thinned dark oil paint. Just a light wash to get the gist of it down. Then a base layer for the background, refining the figure proportions from the outside in, and a long drying time. As has become my habit, I then tackled the face, shoulders and hand to remove any trepidation, allowing them to dry thoroughly while working on the dress and hair. This piece has the requisite 80 million layers to achieve the color saturation and shading. More layers for the skintones, more layers for the background, more layers for the dress and then a final layer for that blush foreground. Oooooh la la! She is a powerful one!
Congratulations to Bryan E! Wonder Mike drew your name as winner of the July Reader Giveaway! Send your mailing address to thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com and your prize will be in the mail lickety-split!
The August Reader Giveaway begins today! Leave a comment on any blog post this month to be automatically entered. Wonder Mike will be drawing two names and giving away two small pieces this month! Now that's something to get excited about! :)
The August Reader Giveaway begins today! Leave a comment on any blog post this month to be automatically entered. Wonder Mike will be drawing two names and giving away two small pieces this month! Now that's something to get excited about! :)
August Reader Giveaway One
August Reader Giveaway Two
- Published on
Coming Home From Lonely Places
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Coming Home From Lonely Places
oil on wood panel
16 x 20 x .75
This item is unframed but ready to hang
(click on the image to purchase)
Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen.― John Le Carre
Oh oh OH, you may be thinking - Lola is back in space again! Indeed I am. But it isn't my fault this time. Really! Truly! I blame it on Carl Stoveland.
You see, Carl sent some images he created with the AI bot of a new series called "geishanauts" and then challenged me to paint one. I had to! If ballgown bots and geishanauts met for tea, I am certain it would be the talk of the town. And also, I am not one to hesitate when someone throws down an art challenge.
And when the quote came across my path (we're blazing through Le Carre's George Smiley series here at home) I thought - whoa! THIS!
You see, Carl sent some images he created with the AI bot of a new series called "geishanauts" and then challenged me to paint one. I had to! If ballgown bots and geishanauts met for tea, I am certain it would be the talk of the town. And also, I am not one to hesitate when someone throws down an art challenge.
And when the quote came across my path (we're blazing through Le Carre's George Smiley series here at home) I thought - whoa! THIS!
Why? Because making art, being an artist, creating artistic pieces is largely a solitary life. It requires vast stretches of solitude and loneliness, and we may just "go a little mad" as Le Carre says, spending so much time in a world no one else sees. But there is also a sense of community - slim strings of connection and resonance - which allow a little feeling of being a bit less isolated when those strings are strummed (or twanged or plucked).
So here's to all of you out there in lonely places of creativity, making magic behind the curtain. I'm sending a geishanaut to your galaxy to check in on you. :)
So here's to all of you out there in lonely places of creativity, making magic behind the curtain. I'm sending a geishanaut to your galaxy to check in on you. :)
About the art: this is a paint over of an older oil painting. The beauty of it is the instant texture and colorful underpainting (which shows through a wee bit in the geishanaut's uniform). I jumped off from Stoveland's idea with my own AI bot session, asking for a mash-up of Diebenkorn, Moebius and Fritz Scholder as style instructions. Armed with a bevy of painterly compositions, colors and figures, I ultimately settled on this piece. I began with the background, taping off the quadrants and applying thin layers of color. Then the figure, loosely brushed in and then refined as the composition took shape. Carving back through the wet background to create some swirling movement. Adding many many glazing layers to suggest light and shadow. This quiet explorer has been most excellent company in the studio.
It's June! A new month, a new giveaway! Leave a comment on any blog post during the month of June to be automatically entered to win a piece of original art - FREE! And thanks always to everyone who reads, comments and shares this blog. It helps make this solitary artist feel a little less like a voice in the wilderness of the internet. :)
- Published on
Everything That Glitters
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Everything That Glitters
Oil on wood
11.75 x 11.75 x 1.75
This item can be used as an altar space, flat on a surface, or hung on the wall as a pre-framed piece of art. (Click on the image to purchase)
Our minds are like crows. They pick up everything that glitters, no matter how uncomfortable our nests get with all that metal in them. - THOMAS MERTON
I don’t know how your mind operates, but mine often feels over-full, stuffed with metal, uncomfortable. Too many thoughts, worries, anticipations and too little clear, empty spaces.
This piece is a reminder of our crow-minds. A gentle suggestion to leave those excess thoughts here with the crow instead of cluttering our heads.
It's easier said than done, I realize. A daily practice of writing down and setting down that clutter can help. As does observing and challenging those thoughts as they arise.
This piece is a reminder of our crow-minds. A gentle suggestion to leave those excess thoughts here with the crow instead of cluttering our heads.
It's easier said than done, I realize. A daily practice of writing down and setting down that clutter can help. As does observing and challenging those thoughts as they arise.
If only I could hand each cluttered thought to Rocky and ask him to fly away with it.
As it stands, he will fly away with worms, peanuts, pecans, peanut butter sandwiches and eggs. Sigh. I suppose we both need a little more training.
About the art: an intuitive piece which was spontaneously created after the crows returned from the murder season and began hanging out and talking to us again. Beginning with a rough sketch of the crow in wet oil paint, working from the outside in with loose strokes and a wide brush, then from the inside-out with a detail brush. Resisting the urge to overly define the background and allowing the mystery of a crow in the suggested nighttime to dominate the piece. The frame is painted in matte black gesso, and the painting itself has been finished with a heavy coat of varnish to provide protection in the event it is used as an altar.
Holy macaroons! Is it the end of May already? Many thanks to all who read, listened to and shared the blog this month. And all the commenters - thanks hugely! Your thoughtful words and responses to the art and writing informs my creative process, and I am deeply grateful. :)
Congratulations to Kris and to Dotty! Wonder Mike chose your names at random this month as winners of the May Reader Giveaway! Send your mailing addresses to thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com and your prizes will be in the mail lickety-split!
A new giveaway begins next month!
Congratulations to Kris and to Dotty! Wonder Mike chose your names at random this month as winners of the May Reader Giveaway! Send your mailing addresses to thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com and your prizes will be in the mail lickety-split!
A new giveaway begins next month!
- Published on
Inward Exploration
LISTEN to the blog by clicking the DOWNLOAD link above
"Inward Exploration" - oil on copper panel, 9 x 12 inches. This item is unframed. (click on the image to purchase)
“Exploration...no longer seemed aimed at some outward discovery; rather, it was directed inward...”
― David Grann, The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon
We just returned from nearly a week of exploring the Olympic Peninsula, where the cliffs were rugged, the sea-stacks massive and the tide-pools endlessly fascinating. And you'd think all that exploration was outward, but it was not.
There is so much inward exploration when the body is moving outside of its element - whether scrambling down a steep cliff hanging on to a rope, jumping mollusk-covered rocks through the tides or climbing boulders to see what's around the next cove - the mind decides to explore as well. Sometimes I think the only way to get outside of my daily thoughts is to put my body outside of its daily habitat. I can think bigger, deeper, and more purposefully.
There is so much inward exploration when the body is moving outside of its element - whether scrambling down a steep cliff hanging on to a rope, jumping mollusk-covered rocks through the tides or climbing boulders to see what's around the next cove - the mind decides to explore as well. Sometimes I think the only way to get outside of my daily thoughts is to put my body outside of its daily habitat. I can think bigger, deeper, and more purposefully.
And though our explorations are nothing like Colonel Percy Fawcett's many journeys to the Amazon jungle, I can see and understand why his inner self became more inward facing even as his body became more outward exploring. Fawcett disappeared in the jungle, never to be heard from again. Now, rest assured that is not our plan. No, no, no! But it would be ok if some of my mental thought habits were left behind in the tides or suspended from a cliff. I wouldn't miss those one bit.
About the art: the wickedly glorious copper panel makes a return here, with a portrait embracing a limited color palette. Beginning with a quick sketch with a brush laden with thinned oil paint, then working from the sunglasses outward. Resisting the urge to overly separate shoulder and hair (right side) from background so the focus remains on those dazzling spectacles and the adornment on her neck. The sunglasses suggest she is outside, while her hidden eyes point to her inward focus. The hair was created by carving back through wet paint with a tiny rubber wedge, allowing the copper substrate to come through as hair highlights.
The May Reader Giveaway continues! Leave a comment on any blog post this month to be automatically entered to win a piece of original art - FREE! And thanks so much to everyone who reads, comments and shares this blog. I so appreciate each and everyone of you! xo
- Published on
Locked Rooms
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"Locked Rooms" acrylic on wood panel, 16 x 20 x .25 inches. This item is unframed. (click on the image to purchase)
I want to ask you, dear sir, as best I can, to have patience about everything that is still unresolved in your heart; try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms, like books written in a truly foreign language. Don’t look for the answers now: they cannot be given to you yet because you cannot yet live them, and what matters is to live everything. For now, live the questions. If you do, then maybe, gradually, without your realizing it, some far-off day you will live your way into the answer. - RAINER MARIA RILKE
I am often very patient with others. Not always, of course, but often.
I am not easily patient with myself.
Learning to love the questions themselves has been a big part of my journey the past couple of years, Staring at the doors of those locked rooms and resisting the urge to grab a toolbox and remove the doors. Instead, allowing all the time needed for the doors to open, or (heaven forbid) to remain closed. Mustering up a bit of faith that what needs to be revealed shall be. And what isn't brought into the light isn't meant to yet.
I am not easily patient with myself.
Learning to love the questions themselves has been a big part of my journey the past couple of years, Staring at the doors of those locked rooms and resisting the urge to grab a toolbox and remove the doors. Instead, allowing all the time needed for the doors to open, or (heaven forbid) to remain closed. Mustering up a bit of faith that what needs to be revealed shall be. And what isn't brought into the light isn't meant to yet.
My impatience makes me feel awkward, clumsy, like this character perhaps.
It isn't the first time I've painted a young werewolf with a balloon. It symbolizes something to me...in this case, I think the balloons might be joy, and the werewolf doesn't want to look at them in case they may disappear. Joy can be elusive, especially since our brains are primed to look for trouble instead.
Perhaps joy is yet a book written in a foreign language on some days. But I plan to sit and wait, as patiently as one can, for the words to make sense.
It isn't the first time I've painted a young werewolf with a balloon. It symbolizes something to me...in this case, I think the balloons might be joy, and the werewolf doesn't want to look at them in case they may disappear. Joy can be elusive, especially since our brains are primed to look for trouble instead.
Perhaps joy is yet a book written in a foreign language on some days. But I plan to sit and wait, as patiently as one can, for the words to make sense.
About the art: Something new for me this week. Of course I have painted on wood panel before, but not with the objective of making the wood itself part of the art. Beginning with a high quality wood panel (this one from Jacksons), I covered it with a good coat of clear varnish. Once dry, I sketched the character on the wood, taped off the center section and added a coat of black gesso for the background. The rest was a very patient labor of love with the smaller Uni Posca Paint Pens used in the same way as Rotring Tikky pens for pen and ink drawings. Just black and white, simplicity and a bit of innocence. The wood tone comes through in parts of the garment and body, warming up what might otherwise be a bit too stark. This one makes me smile.
Congratulations to Julie (aka Mighty Athena on Bluesky)! Wonder Mike drew your name at random as winner of the April Reader Giveaway! Send your mailing address to thewanderingsoflola@gmail.com and your prize will be in the mail!
Thank you to everyone who commented in April. Your participation means the world to me! A new contest begins today - leave a comment on any blog post in the month of May to be automatically entered.
Thank you to everyone who commented in April. Your participation means the world to me! A new contest begins today - leave a comment on any blog post in the month of May to be automatically entered.
- Published on
The Loneliness of Being Ourselves
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"The Loneliness of Being Ourselves" - oil on plywood, 19 x 29 x .5 inches. This item is unframed but ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)
Moments like these jolt us awake from the dream of perfect understanding, stagger us with the realization that no one ever really knows what it is like to be somebody else, that between one consciousness and another there always gapes an abyss black as the inside of a skull, and though we may try to reach each other with love and reason, they twine but a tenuous footbridge across it. The best we can do is hold on to the ropes and hope that they will not fray before we reach the rim of understanding, the outer edge of the other, which is all we can ever touch — and still it is enough, this sliver of salvation from the loneliness of being ourselves, this outstretched hand across the icy blue. - THE MARGINALIAN
Have you ever experienced loneliness when you were not actually alone? As an inward leaning human, I often feel loneliest in large groups of people, far away from the outer edge of the other. Somewhere in another galaxy, perhaps?
In one-on-one settings, it is easier for me to hold on to the ropes and to reach for the edges of another person. But even then, as the quote points out, I can see the abyss between myself and the inner workings of another person.
Now, place all of this into a society becoming more fractured, further apart in values and beliefs and there emerges a wide chasm of misunderstanding and non-understanding between people. I gaze across that wide canyon and cannot see my way across, find myself leaning more and more in the other direction. Turning inward, staying safe.
In one-on-one settings, it is easier for me to hold on to the ropes and to reach for the edges of another person. But even then, as the quote points out, I can see the abyss between myself and the inner workings of another person.
Now, place all of this into a society becoming more fractured, further apart in values and beliefs and there emerges a wide chasm of misunderstanding and non-understanding between people. I gaze across that wide canyon and cannot see my way across, find myself leaning more and more in the other direction. Turning inward, staying safe.
But I have an inkling that turning inward isn't going to help us move through this fracturing (though it is necessary for serenity and balance at times). So I will keep reaching for those ropes and hope they will not fray in pursuit of understanding and connection. I might need a fancy circus outfit, but that could be mischievously fun.
About the art: this piece is painted over a murdered acrylic abstract painting. For this one, I drew the composition directly on top of the prior piece using a wet brush and big, loose strokes. The heavy texture of the original piece adds quite a bit of interest to the new piece, which might have otherwise looked too flat. There are a LOT of layers in this one, all constructed with brushes. No rubber wedges on this piece, as plywood prefers brushwork. I think this house is in the perfect location for me - high on a hill with big skies and forests and rolling hills beneath. I imagine the ocean is on the other side of the piece. Oooooooh bliss!
The February Reader Giveaway continues! Leave a message on any blog post this month to be automatically entered to win a free piece of original art. And thank you so much to everyone who reads, comments and shares this blog! Also, a big welcome to all the new subscribers from Bluesky. I'm just dazzled by the friendly cyber-community!
- Published on
Rabbit, Aggrieved
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"Rabbit, Aggrieved" - oil on yupo, 12.5 x 19 inches. This item is unmounted and unframed. (click on the image to purchase)
"Hallo, Rabbit,” he said, “is that you?” "Let’s pretend it isn’t,” said Rabbit, “and see what happens. - A. A. MILNE
Did I mention the rabbits have taken over the studio? That rabbits multiply, on land and by paint? The studio rabbits have determined it is their role to express societal emotions this year. Aggrieved - feeling resentment at having been unfairly treated - hello, YES!
I'm not very good at feeling anger and its cousins (resentment, bitterness, irritation, frustration) because people have not really felt anger around me during my life - they've done anger. And anger as an action is pretty shitty.
So I've been given permission (homework, even!) to go ahead and feel aggrieved. You mention one word of that to rabbits, and they've already made a banner and started a parade!
It turns out there are benefits to feeling and expressing anger . Anger is protective and reveals our boundaries. Anger heals trauma. And anger inspires action.
Anger unexpressed creates shame. And shame resides in all kinds of places in the body. Are your shoulders tight? Got headaches? Belly woes? Anger wants you to stop leaving yourself. Oh, oh and OH!
So what does healthy anger look like? It is kind and firm. Think of it as assertive communication. Something you pay attention to with kindness and curiosity before taking action.
Unlike these rabbits, who just left the studio in a rampage and may end up on the evening news. Sheesh!
It turns out there are benefits to feeling and expressing anger . Anger is protective and reveals our boundaries. Anger heals trauma. And anger inspires action.
Anger unexpressed creates shame. And shame resides in all kinds of places in the body. Are your shoulders tight? Got headaches? Belly woes? Anger wants you to stop leaving yourself. Oh, oh and OH!
So what does healthy anger look like? It is kind and firm. Think of it as assertive communication. Something you pay attention to with kindness and curiosity before taking action.
Unlike these rabbits, who just left the studio in a rampage and may end up on the evening news. Sheesh!
About the art: this rabbit (the second in a series of lagomorphs) was inspired by the works of Möbius and Diebenkorn. Beginning with a rough sketch in thinned oil paint and slowly adding layers of color. The trick with this one was getting the dark side very, VERY dark so the rabbit would hop out (ha ha) in a dramatic way. Allowing the paint to slide down the Yupo toward the bottom is a nice softening of the hard edges higher up in the piece. This guy is seriously thinking about how he feels before he does anything about it. Good advice, rabbit!
The January Reader Giveaway continues! Leave a comment on any blog post this month to be automatically entered. Someone is going to win an original piece of art - free!
- Published on
"Weary of Captivity" - oil on cradled wood panel, 18 x 24 x 1.5 inches.
This item is unframed but ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)
LISTEN to the blog by clicking the DOWNLOAD link below
This item is unframed but ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)
LISTEN to the blog by clicking the DOWNLOAD link below
Weary of Captivity
If Adam Picked the Apple
There would be a parade,
a celebration,
a holiday to commemorate
the day he sought enlightenment.
We would not speak of
temptation by the devil, rather,
we would laud Adam’s curiosity,
his desire for adventure
and knowing.
We would feast
on apple-inspired fare:
tortes, chutneys, pancakes, pies.
There would be plays and songs
reenacting his courage.
But it was Eve who grew bored,
weary of her captivity in Eden.
And a woman’s desire
for freedom is rarely a cause
for celebration. - Danielle Coffyn
There would be a parade,
a celebration,
a holiday to commemorate
the day he sought enlightenment.
We would not speak of
temptation by the devil, rather,
we would laud Adam’s curiosity,
his desire for adventure
and knowing.
We would feast
on apple-inspired fare:
tortes, chutneys, pancakes, pies.
There would be plays and songs
reenacting his courage.
But it was Eve who grew bored,
weary of her captivity in Eden.
And a woman’s desire
for freedom is rarely a cause
for celebration. - Danielle Coffyn
Try as I may, I cannot stop the world at large from encroaching on my peace of mind. And perhaps that peace should be disturbed given, well, everything.
The number of women (and, honestly, men of reason and knowledge and general humanness) who are raising their voices, eyebrows and hands over the growing marginalizing of females (not just females, no no no! But women are my focus here today) is a growing cacophony to which I add my own voice and art.
I have been learning to fully experience and express the grief of my own experiences recently, and serendipitously it is not just my own personal grief now, but the world at large. And it is more than grief - there is a simmering cauldron of anger.
The number of women (and, honestly, men of reason and knowledge and general humanness) who are raising their voices, eyebrows and hands over the growing marginalizing of females (not just females, no no no! But women are my focus here today) is a growing cacophony to which I add my own voice and art.
I have been learning to fully experience and express the grief of my own experiences recently, and serendipitously it is not just my own personal grief now, but the world at large. And it is more than grief - there is a simmering cauldron of anger.
I don't have the answers. Just a growing sense of unease and concern. And a willingness to be there for anyone who needs/wants to commiserate.
For the past year, as I process my own experiences I've been increasingly drawn to create ballgown-bots. Largely faceless, masked cyborgian females with fancy garb. At first they were cheeky, haunting, peculiar. But now they have taken on a larger, societal meaning and a mission of their own. Are they faceless because they are afraid and unseen? Or because they are armored and shielded?
And so I am wondering - what do they mean to you, dear readers?
For the past year, as I process my own experiences I've been increasingly drawn to create ballgown-bots. Largely faceless, masked cyborgian females with fancy garb. At first they were cheeky, haunting, peculiar. But now they have taken on a larger, societal meaning and a mission of their own. Are they faceless because they are afraid and unseen? Or because they are armored and shielded?
And so I am wondering - what do they mean to you, dear readers?
About the art: this is a paint-over (oil over oil) of an existing piece, which adds a lovely depth of color and texture. On a recent playdate with the AI bot, I wrote "pink backpack" and let it run. There were many, many delightfully cheeky monsters and odd humans with backpacks of all sizes. The whole session left me grinning! One of them was more of a mash-up of victorian schoolgirl and cyberpunk ballgown-bot, which inspired this piece. The goal here was the lovely limited palette and high contrast with loose, painterly brushstrokes.
The December Reader Giveaway begins today! Leave a comment on any blog post this month to be automatically entered. One (or more) lucky commenters will receive an original piece of art in the mail - free!
- Published on
"A Formula For The Future" - oil on canvas, 30 x 10 x .75 inches.
This is unframed but ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)
This is unframed but ready to hang. (click on the image to purchase)
LISTEN to the blog by clicking the DOWNLOAD link above
We pop into life the way
particles pop in and out
of the continuum.
We are a seething mass
of probability.
And probably I love you.
The evil of larvae
and the evil of stars
are a formula for the future.
Some bodies can
thrust their arms into
a flame and be instantly
cured of this world,
while others sicken.
particles pop in and out
of the continuum.
We are a seething mass
of probability.
And probably I love you.
The evil of larvae
and the evil of stars
are a formula for the future.
Some bodies can
thrust their arms into
a flame and be instantly
cured of this world,
while others sicken.
Why think, little brother
like the moon, spit out like
a broken tooth.
“Oh,” groans the world.
The outer planets,
the fizzing sun, here we come
with our luggage.
Look at the clever things
we have made out of
a few building blocks --
O fabulous continuum.
- STRINGS by RUTH STONE
like the moon, spit out like
a broken tooth.
“Oh,” groans the world.
The outer planets,
the fizzing sun, here we come
with our luggage.
Look at the clever things
we have made out of
a few building blocks --
O fabulous continuum.
- STRINGS by RUTH STONE
We are a seething mass of probability. And probably I love you.
Stone's words just grab me by the shoulders and beg me to STOP! LOOK! FEEL! The very thing which I find so challenging to do when the world around is groaning. But I am doing it, moment by moment.
"Feeling is to be avoided!" my inner defenses shout. Feeling will heal you and help others is the whisper from the wiser parts of me. And so I am sitting in a heavy-bottomed way, a Weeble (remember those?), wobbling in the feelings but I won't fall down.
Stone's words just grab me by the shoulders and beg me to STOP! LOOK! FEEL! The very thing which I find so challenging to do when the world around is groaning. But I am doing it, moment by moment.
"Feeling is to be avoided!" my inner defenses shout. Feeling will heal you and help others is the whisper from the wiser parts of me. And so I am sitting in a heavy-bottomed way, a Weeble (remember those?), wobbling in the feelings but I won't fall down.
About the art: this canvas has been murdered many times. Layers and layers of overly precious brush strokes, dabs and do-das. Each time I dragged the squeegee across it and said NO NO NO, that just won't do. And finally, letting the feelings direct the painting, I allowed the darkness to hover, the drama and big strokes to take over, and the tiny bit of light to emerge.
And (drum roll please) - the winners of the November Reader Giveaway! Congratulations to Nance F. and Emma F. - Wonder Mike chose your names at random from the pool of this month's commenters. Send your mailing address to thewanderingsoflola!gmail.com and your original artworks will be in the mail to you! Big thanks to everyone who participated. A new contest begins next month!
