- Published on
"Cosmic Octopus" (a commission) - acrylic on wood altar. SOLD
The madcap laughed at the man on the border
Hey ho, huff the Talbot
The winds they blew and the leaves did wag
They'll never put me in their bag
The raging seas will always seep
So high you go, so low you creep
The wind it blows in tropical heat
The drones they throng on mossy seats
The squeaking door will always squeak
Two up, two down we'll never meet
Please, leave us here
Close our eyes to the octopus ride
Please, leave us here
Close our eyes to the octopus ride
from OCTOPUS, by Syd Barrett
The madcap laughed at the man on the border
Hey ho, huff the Talbot
The winds they blew and the leaves did wag
They'll never put me in their bag
The raging seas will always seep
So high you go, so low you creep
The wind it blows in tropical heat
The drones they throng on mossy seats
The squeaking door will always squeak
Two up, two down we'll never meet
Please, leave us here
Close our eyes to the octopus ride
Please, leave us here
Close our eyes to the octopus ride
from OCTOPUS, by Syd Barrett
Cosmic Octopus
The wild Pacific is surging through the studio, and a cosmic octopus dropped by.
This piece was a commission request from one of the most sparkly humans I know. So when she asked "would you?" I immediately said "yes!" Personal altars are just that - personal. They speak to your insides while sitting on the outside, gathering your special talismans and holding your hopes and wishes in a sacred place. And if you are a very colorful, very sparkly human, your altar needs a candy-coated cosmic octopus.
I'm going to want one of these for myself!
This piece was a commission request from one of the most sparkly humans I know. So when she asked "would you?" I immediately said "yes!" Personal altars are just that - personal. They speak to your insides while sitting on the outside, gathering your special talismans and holding your hopes and wishes in a sacred place. And if you are a very colorful, very sparkly human, your altar needs a candy-coated cosmic octopus.
I'm going to want one of these for myself!
About the art: beginning with a solid wood, two-tiered altar, the areas to be personalized were taped off and coated with black gesso. A colored pencil sketch followed, along with the requisite 80 million layers of color in both acrylic paint and Uni Posca Paint Pens. Finished with a coat of cold wax to protect paint and wood.
- Published on
Works in Process - mixed media on paper. Coming in May to Artistic Souls Gallery.
Here at Malarkey Central, we've had a lovely, long adventure vacation.
Even the pooches got away from the city and out into the wild in the Samuel H Boardman Corridor on the Oregon Coast. As much as we'd like to keep wandering and playing in tide pools at the beach, the work and world beckons and - poof - I am back in the studio.
In a mash-up of vacation inspiration, the round, tumbled rocks of the beach ran headlong into a sci-fi novel we just finished and cosmic malarkey erupted. Cats in space, anyone? Intergalactic deer? These littles (approx 7 x 10 inches) will be done in time for the next online auction event in May.
Here at Malarkey Central, we've had a lovely, long adventure vacation.
Even the pooches got away from the city and out into the wild in the Samuel H Boardman Corridor on the Oregon Coast. As much as we'd like to keep wandering and playing in tide pools at the beach, the work and world beckons and - poof - I am back in the studio.
In a mash-up of vacation inspiration, the round, tumbled rocks of the beach ran headlong into a sci-fi novel we just finished and cosmic malarkey erupted. Cats in space, anyone? Intergalactic deer? These littles (approx 7 x 10 inches) will be done in time for the next online auction event in May.
cosmic works in process!
In case you're looking for a little stony inspiration, here are a few of the colorful cast of rocky characters we met at the beach. :)
- Published on
"Care Erases The Walls" - mixed media on cradled wood panel, 16 x 12 x .75. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder
After almost seventy years, I confess that though I have struggled I have never been lost and have never stopped loving—everything. And this has enabled me to inhabit life authentically. In the beginning, there were goals I was taught to work toward and these longings for worth were honed in time into personal ambitions, which all fell away. For staying true to the love of everything as our teacher has turned out to be the most enduring ambition of all. This love has made me get up when I have fallen, and has given me the strength to enter the breaks in my heart where I have retrieved my gifts. And so, I have very little to offer beyond the confirmation that unending love without preference will lead us to drink from the Mystery without leaving the world. Unending love without intent will fill every contour of existence the way light fills every hole. So, there is very little to teach. Just that love awakens everything. And care erases the walls we build between us. - MARK NEPO
After almost seventy years, I confess that though I have struggled I have never been lost and have never stopped loving—everything. And this has enabled me to inhabit life authentically. In the beginning, there were goals I was taught to work toward and these longings for worth were honed in time into personal ambitions, which all fell away. For staying true to the love of everything as our teacher has turned out to be the most enduring ambition of all. This love has made me get up when I have fallen, and has given me the strength to enter the breaks in my heart where I have retrieved my gifts. And so, I have very little to offer beyond the confirmation that unending love without preference will lead us to drink from the Mystery without leaving the world. Unending love without intent will fill every contour of existence the way light fills every hole. So, there is very little to teach. Just that love awakens everything. And care erases the walls we build between us. - MARK NEPO
The world is a bit messy right now.
But maybe it is always messy - always has been messy.
But maybe it is always messy - always has been messy.
Care Erases the Walls
There are walls between us and them. Idealogical walls, religious walls, political walls, walls of opinion, perception, assumption - so many walls. It makes me weary, these walls. When I read Nepo's words in this passage, my eyes welled up and my heart sighed. Never stop loving everything. Whoa. Love without intent. Love without preference. Again, whoa. Erasing walls. Yes, please and thank you.
Here's some unending love from me to you, dear reader. You show up here, in this little haven of art and musings, walls down and heart open. I adore you. Thank you for being here.
Here's some unending love from me to you, dear reader. You show up here, in this little haven of art and musings, walls down and heart open. I adore you. Thank you for being here.
About the art: beginning with a layer of black gesso and adding a rough pencil sketch over the top. Building the layers of color and paint, mixing background paint with white gesso to keep it chalky and matte. Layers of gold leaf interspersed, pulled forward and then pushed back. Water sprayer and rubber wedge used, but not too much. Finishing with colored pencil lines and scribbles, adding that final layer of texture.
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Be the Lion
"Be the Lion" - mixed media on gallery wrapped canvas, 20 x 16 x 1.75. Ready to hang. Available March 20-21 at Artistic Souls Gallery.
If to find our way to our core is to face the lion, then to stand by our core is to be the lion. And to sustain the practice of living from our core—to live out of our courage—is to find our way in the world by tracking inner courage and where it lives. - MARK NEPO
I am trying to live out of my courage.
But to do that, as Nepo says, we have to find our core - face the lion. It is pretty tempting to dodge that beast with the teeth and sinewy muscle. It is really easy to skirt around the edges and do a little fancy footwork, keeping out of its path. What I really want, I know, is to be the lion.
And when you're looking for something, generally it finds you.
I didn't set out to paint this portrait. But recently a lion came into my life. A woman who faces her own lions and keeps on going, even when she's shaking in her rain boots. This human IS the lion, but doesn't see it yet in herself. I happened to snap a photo of her in a moment of fortitude and badassery, and that photo was stuck in my mind until I freed it onto the canvas.
If to find our way to our core is to face the lion, then to stand by our core is to be the lion. And to sustain the practice of living from our core—to live out of our courage—is to find our way in the world by tracking inner courage and where it lives. - MARK NEPO
I am trying to live out of my courage.
But to do that, as Nepo says, we have to find our core - face the lion. It is pretty tempting to dodge that beast with the teeth and sinewy muscle. It is really easy to skirt around the edges and do a little fancy footwork, keeping out of its path. What I really want, I know, is to be the lion.
And when you're looking for something, generally it finds you.
I didn't set out to paint this portrait. But recently a lion came into my life. A woman who faces her own lions and keeps on going, even when she's shaking in her rain boots. This human IS the lion, but doesn't see it yet in herself. I happened to snap a photo of her in a moment of fortitude and badassery, and that photo was stuck in my mind until I freed it onto the canvas.
Liberties were taken with this painting - it's in my own style, with my own interpretation of strength and resilience scraped and layered and scratched into it. It is every one of us who has faced a lion even when terrified - even when we couldn't see our own courage. I look at this piece and feel doubly resolved to live from my own core as I find my way in the world. I hope she inspires you as well, dear reader. She is you and me.
About the art: beginning with a canvas covered in black gesso, creating a rough sketch with white charcoal. Slowly adding in layers, following the paint where it meanders away from the inspiration photo to let texture and nuance form where it might not have been before. Liberal use of a sprayer bottle and rubber wedge. Scratching into wet paint with colored pencils to add texture and movement. Resisting the urge to overly define. Stepping away when her gaze told me the lion was in the room.
- Published on
Shadow Beast
Shadow Beast - acrylic on cradled wood panel, 9 x 12 x .75 Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
So while our art cannot, as we wish it could, save us from wars, privation, envy, greed, old age, or death, it can revitalize us amidst it all. RAY BRADBURY
So while our art cannot, as we wish it could, save us from wars, privation, envy, greed, old age, or death, it can revitalize us amidst it all. RAY BRADBURY
In times when the ugliness of mankind rears its head like a shadow beast from long ago, leaving us doom-scrolling and worried about the end of the world - there is art.
Oh, sure, looking at and appreciating art, but mainly making it. Or trying to, anyway. Putting my mind and hands to the task of creating has been balm.
Oh, sure, looking at and appreciating art, but mainly making it. Or trying to, anyway. Putting my mind and hands to the task of creating has been balm.
There was a companion piece to this one - a large canvas which went through a million iterations, receiving on its surface the aches and pains and worries and fears of the week in layer upon layer of color. Which is now covered in black gesso. Mama said there'd be days likes these. I am grateful for its willingness to accept all that angst and store it safely within its frame.
I think what's important is that we keep doing. Create, sing, dance, play, move, clean, read - whatever you do, keep doing it. Let the doing of it revitalize you amidst it all. Wherever you are in this week of tumult, I wish you a pile of play dough and a companion or two to make weird creatures with.
I think what's important is that we keep doing. Create, sing, dance, play, move, clean, read - whatever you do, keep doing it. Let the doing of it revitalize you amidst it all. Wherever you are in this week of tumult, I wish you a pile of play dough and a companion or two to make weird creatures with.
About the art: beginning with a black gesso'd wood panel and a reference photo of a dinosaur skeleton, then a rough colored pencil sketch over top. Adding washes of warm tones and then beginning to define the bones with increasingly lighter tones. Allowing the dark to show through and create shadows and depth. Resisting the urge to overly define - keeping the washes light and ghostly.
- Published on
Two Possibilities
"Two Possibilities" (a diptych) - acrylic on cradled wood canvas, 16 x 8 x .75. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
"Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." - Arthur C. Clarke
I grew up on science fiction.
My copy of Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles was threadbare before I graduated high school. Heinlein, Van Vogt, Asimov...worlds imagined and yet seemingly possible. Science fiction tackled all the big questions without hesitation, made me think, allowed a broad view of what could be.
"Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." - Arthur C. Clarke
I grew up on science fiction.
My copy of Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles was threadbare before I graduated high school. Heinlein, Van Vogt, Asimov...worlds imagined and yet seemingly possible. Science fiction tackled all the big questions without hesitation, made me think, allowed a broad view of what could be.
The older I become, the more those big questions rattle around in my noggin, and sometimes spill into the paint.
The wild thing about these questions is that likely none of them will be answered in my lifetime. In this world of fast-paced technological growth, invention and speed, answers to the big stuff still remain (pardon the pun) light-years away. And so we can seek knowledge without answers, practice the ability to question and query and conjecture and ponder and sit with the wondrousness of it all.
Which is something I do while painting.
If you want to stuff your noggin with some fascinating knowledge, check out Kurzgesagt -in a nutshell on YouTube. Because I don't want to be the only one contemplating what happens if the moon falls into the earth. :)
The wild thing about these questions is that likely none of them will be answered in my lifetime. In this world of fast-paced technological growth, invention and speed, answers to the big stuff still remain (pardon the pun) light-years away. And so we can seek knowledge without answers, practice the ability to question and query and conjecture and ponder and sit with the wondrousness of it all.
Which is something I do while painting.
If you want to stuff your noggin with some fascinating knowledge, check out Kurzgesagt -in a nutshell on YouTube. Because I don't want to be the only one contemplating what happens if the moon falls into the earth. :)
About the art: beginning with two panels and some black gesso, creating shapes with a rubber wedge. Adding in colors to the shapes, following the thread wherever it meanders and then discovering a forest of sorts emerging in a celestial world. This piece is finished with a layer of cold wax.
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"Come to Your River" - acrylic on cradled wood panel, 11 x 14. Ready to hang. Available Feb 20-21 at Artistic Souls Gallery.
Come to your river
I will come to your river
I will come to your river
Come to your river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
Wash my soul again
Carry away my dead leaves
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Sink my pains and complains
Let the river take them, river drown them
My ego and my blame
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Those all means are so ashamed
Let the river take them, river drown them
- IBEYI
Come to your river
I will come to your river
I will come to your river
Come to your river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
Wash my soul again
Carry away my dead leaves
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Sink my pains and complains
Let the river take them, river drown them
My ego and my blame
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Those all means are so ashamed
Let the river take them, river drown them
- IBEYI
Come to Your River
The inspiration for capturing emotion often begins with a song. This song sits in the cradle of my emotional anchor and undulates like waves. Let the river drown my "pains and complains..my ego and my blame." oh yes, yes please.
About the art: beginning with a black gesso'd background and working from dark to light. A colored pencil scribble sketch, layers of watery paint in light washes. Resisting the desire to overly define, allowing color to speak a story and dark shapes to define the features.
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"A Murder Most Fowl" (skewing Jacques-louis David's "The Death of Marat") - acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas, 16 x 20. NFS
"I haven't checked, but I highly suspect that chickens evolved from an egg-laying ancestor, which would mean that there were, in fact, eggs before there were chickens. Genius."
- Ta-Nehisi Coates.
"I haven't checked, but I highly suspect that chickens evolved from an egg-laying ancestor, which would mean that there were, in fact, eggs before there were chickens. Genius."
- Ta-Nehisi Coates.
The studio has gone to the birds.
Well, to the chickens, anyway.
When you live with another artist, you might find yourself in a challenge to render a version of this, that or the other in your own particular style in a sort of soft paint-off competition. This time, the challenge was CHICKEN.
And since I only recently learned of "The Death of Marat", and was smitten with its beauty, it seemed only natural to place a fowl in the scene and skew Jacques-louis David with a wink (or a cluck?)
Well, to the chickens, anyway.
When you live with another artist, you might find yourself in a challenge to render a version of this, that or the other in your own particular style in a sort of soft paint-off competition. This time, the challenge was CHICKEN.
And since I only recently learned of "The Death of Marat", and was smitten with its beauty, it seemed only natural to place a fowl in the scene and skew Jacques-louis David with a wink (or a cluck?)
A Murder Most Fowl (skewing Jacques-louis David's "The Death of Marat")
Skewing, like painting self-portraits, is a really good habit for stretching your painterly muscles and dabbling in different color palettes and styles. And this one, proudly hanging in the studio/gallery, is really something to crow about. :)
About the art: beginning with a notanized photo of David's painting, roughing in the shapes with a chunky colored pencil and some wet brushes. Adding a layer of yellow ochre to the lower half as an underpainting and keeping a limited color palette as David did in the original. Using soft, watery washes to create shadows and highlights and resisting the urge to overly define.
Cadmium red light and a sprayer bottle used to create evidence of a murder. (I wouldn't turn my back on that rooster, though)
Cadmium red light and a sprayer bottle used to create evidence of a murder. (I wouldn't turn my back on that rooster, though)
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"Internal Dialogue" - acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas, 16 x 20 x 1.5. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.
― David Richo
Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.
― David Richo
I've been struggling a bit with old wounds.
Not the fact that I have them - we all do; it's part of life. They can and do still rear up like angry stallions now and again, take my breath away, punch me in the gut and leave me feeling quite vulnerable. The struggle is with my internal dialogue in those moments and afterward. The inner critic isn't a very kind person, and berates me for for having wounds. Silly, isn't she?
There is a silver lining in most everything, I think. Including those moments of facing angry stallions and corralling them into something you can approach and embrace.
Not the fact that I have them - we all do; it's part of life. They can and do still rear up like angry stallions now and again, take my breath away, punch me in the gut and leave me feeling quite vulnerable. The struggle is with my internal dialogue in those moments and afterward. The inner critic isn't a very kind person, and berates me for for having wounds. Silly, isn't she?
There is a silver lining in most everything, I think. Including those moments of facing angry stallions and corralling them into something you can approach and embrace.
Internal Dialogue
I am still searching for the "best and most beautiful part" in those wounds.
It's easy for me to see beauty in the scars of others - the strength, tenderness, tenacity, surrender - all the incredible qualities emerging from their past experiences. I'd like to transform mine into something of beauty in my own eyes, too. There is freedom in that transformation. I can almost taste it.
It's easy for me to see beauty in the scars of others - the strength, tenderness, tenacity, surrender - all the incredible qualities emerging from their past experiences. I'd like to transform mine into something of beauty in my own eyes, too. There is freedom in that transformation. I can almost taste it.
About the art: beginning with an inspiration photo which has been notanized, creating a value study of darks and lights with watered down acrylic paint and chunky soft pencils. Slowly adding the layers required to create depth and texture. Liberal use of water bottle, rubber wedge and paper towel.
This piece was a wrestling match - almost as if the inner critic was fighting with me in the paint. Eventually this woman emerged, victorious but perhaps needing a hot bath and a respite from struggle. Art imitates life.
This piece was a wrestling match - almost as if the inner critic was fighting with me in the paint. Eventually this woman emerged, victorious but perhaps needing a hot bath and a respite from struggle. Art imitates life.
- Published on
I am Not Giving Up Pears
"I am Not Giving Up Pears" - acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas, 16 x 20 x 1.5. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
If I go to the pear tree for a pear, I am taking care of myself by actively nourishing my body. If I sit under the tree and gaze at the last flowers of the garden, I am taking care of a deeper need: the need to respond to beauty. I am not giving up pears, but I am more richly expanding my experience of the universe by allowing myself to appreciate more of it....It is the gateway to grace, the complement of effort.
- DAVID RICHO
If I go to the pear tree for a pear, I am taking care of myself by actively nourishing my body. If I sit under the tree and gaze at the last flowers of the garden, I am taking care of a deeper need: the need to respond to beauty. I am not giving up pears, but I am more richly expanding my experience of the universe by allowing myself to appreciate more of it....It is the gateway to grace, the complement of effort.
- DAVID RICHO
I think I've spent most of my life going to the pear tree for a pear. Maybe never noticing the tree, the last flowers, the sun on my face. I got a lot accomplished this way, but there was so little richness in the days.
Now I spend more time gazing than gathering. More time waiting than doing. More time feeling than pushing past or through. And boy oh boy have I learned to love naps. Now and again I am even late for something.
Now I spend more time gazing than gathering. More time waiting than doing. More time feeling than pushing past or through. And boy oh boy have I learned to love naps. Now and again I am even late for something.
There is a terrifying amount of mental chatter that goes along with a shift like the one I've made (and am still making) - who's going to get all the things done? Who will keep track of the things that need to be done? What will people think when I'm not doing, going, making, solving, handling, communicating, taking care of (and so on) to my fullest ability? I am shushing myself a lot.
Thich Nhat Hanh passed away two days ago. I sobbed. His voice and words are in my ears, softly suggesting I just tend the lettuces and see the interconnectedness of all things. There is no hurry. There is only now. I think he might be right there, in the bark and fruit of the pear tree, in the sunshine and the clouds, in the rain and the soil, in you and in me, sitting there under the tree.
Thich Nhat Hanh passed away two days ago. I sobbed. His voice and words are in my ears, softly suggesting I just tend the lettuces and see the interconnectedness of all things. There is no hurry. There is only now. I think he might be right there, in the bark and fruit of the pear tree, in the sunshine and the clouds, in the rain and the soil, in you and in me, sitting there under the tree.
About the art: working from a notanized image and beginning with Stabilo woody pencils, sketching in the darks and putting a wet brush on the pencil to create a light value sketch. Slowly adding the requisite 80 million layers of light washes and resisting the desire to make hair something other than an abstract idea. Allowing sprayed water to move paint. For this piece I stayed with three colors (a warm red, a dark blue and a dark brown) plus white and titan buff. Liberal use of rubber wedge, a large, dry house painting brush and paper towels for blending.
