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Tucked Up Somewhere in the Woods
"Tucked Up Somewhere in the Woods on a Hill" - acrylic on deep cradled aquabord, 16" x 20" x 2" Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
We're all falling and we need a place to hide
A safe place somewhere in the woods we can start the fire
All we know is what would be our home
We will stay 'til the break of dawn
The cold night takes us to a place to escape the chill
Tucked up somewhere in the woods on a hill
Wake up feeling the cold in between our toes
Is there a way back? Nobody knows
And we leave it all behind
Can't you see we need some time?
from the song "The Woods" - by Hollow Coves
And so, dear reader, we are back in the forest once more.
We're all falling and we need a place to hide
A safe place somewhere in the woods we can start the fire
All we know is what would be our home
We will stay 'til the break of dawn
The cold night takes us to a place to escape the chill
Tucked up somewhere in the woods on a hill
Wake up feeling the cold in between our toes
Is there a way back? Nobody knows
And we leave it all behind
Can't you see we need some time?
from the song "The Woods" - by Hollow Coves
And so, dear reader, we are back in the forest once more.
I was standing with my partner on the ridge line of an unnamed peak deep in the Columbia River Gorge; wind lashing our faces, sleet pelting our many layers of rain-soaked clothing, shivering. And all I could think of was how very beautiful it was up there in the solitude and weather with layers of burned trees for miles. The mist kept rolling over us, swirling and obscuring. And still my thought was - oh, how exquisite. The steep incline made my legs cry out for mercy and my breath nearly impossible. And yet I knew I would climb it again to see this majesty - this unrelenting wild.
So, if one day you can't find me, I will be in the forest - tucked up somewhere in the woods on a hill.
So, if one day you can't find me, I will be in the forest - tucked up somewhere in the woods on a hill.
About the art: using my favorite surface, aquabord, on a deep cradle and beginning with a loose charcoal sketch. Using paint to spread the charcoal, then focusing on layers of texture and color, preserving the verticality while resisting the urge to chase overt realism. Fingers, brushes, rubber wedge, deli paper and a wood stick for small, organic lines.
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"Altair" - acrylic on Arches 300 lb watercolor paper, 22" x 30". Available June 6-7 at Artistic Souls Gallery.
It's a conspiracy.
The art has taken over the studio. First a wildling. Now a vulture! I tell ya, it isn't safe to go inside anymore. At least this one likes rhymes.
Altair is the boldest
the burliest of BOBS*
His table manners lacking,
he scoops food up in gobs.
You wouldn't want to take him
to a fancy place to dine
You might end up banned from the place
and with a hefty fine.
He's so good though at guarding
your home will be secure
His manners may be awful
but his heart is strong and pure
*BOBS - Birds on Balls
It's a conspiracy.
The art has taken over the studio. First a wildling. Now a vulture! I tell ya, it isn't safe to go inside anymore. At least this one likes rhymes.
Altair is the boldest
the burliest of BOBS*
His table manners lacking,
he scoops food up in gobs.
You wouldn't want to take him
to a fancy place to dine
You might end up banned from the place
and with a hefty fine.
He's so good though at guarding
your home will be secure
His manners may be awful
but his heart is strong and pure
*BOBS - Birds on Balls
Altair
A little something about vultures:
Altair is looking forward to having an entire day in September devoted to himself. He wonders why it isn't EVERY day?
- New World vultures lack a syrinx (voicebox) and are nearly silent. They do not have songs, and their typical vocalizations are limited to grunts, hisses, bill clacks, and similar sounds that don't require complex vocal cords.
- Unlike many raptors, vultures are relatively social and often feed, fly, or roost in large flocks. A group of vultures is called a committee, venue, or volt. In flight, a flock of vultures is a kettle, and when the birds are feeding together at a carcass, the group is called a wake.
- Vultures enjoy their own holiday, International Vulture Awareness Day, which is celebrated on the first Saturday of each September.
Altair is looking forward to having an entire day in September devoted to himself. He wonders why it isn't EVERY day?
About the event: "Treat Yourself" June 6 - 7 at Artistic Souls Gallery on Facebook. A handful of artists pushing boundaries in their art during a two day melee event and online art auction. To participate, join the Facebook group and view the art previews over the next two weeks. Event goes live at 11 am est on June 6.
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Fiadh
"Fiadh" - acrylic on cradled wood panel, 18" x 24" x 1.5" Ready to hang.. Available June 6 - 7 at Artistic Souls Gallery.
A wildling has taken over the studio. She has even usurped my little whimsical poems:
Fiadh is a wildling.
She runs, she swims, she climbs.
Her eyebrows raise at words like this -
she despises rhymes.
“Keep it wild,” she says,
“let it be unruly.
Words that run amok
resonate with more folks, truly.”
So here we go - I’ll try it!
Words racing off the spit!
They’re running toward an ending
which is this: TURNIP GREENS!
(what happens when wildlings take over: nothing rhymes)
A wildling has taken over the studio. She has even usurped my little whimsical poems:
Fiadh is a wildling.
She runs, she swims, she climbs.
Her eyebrows raise at words like this -
she despises rhymes.
“Keep it wild,” she says,
“let it be unruly.
Words that run amok
resonate with more folks, truly.”
So here we go - I’ll try it!
Words racing off the spit!
They’re running toward an ending
which is this: TURNIP GREENS!
(what happens when wildlings take over: nothing rhymes)
Fiadh (fee-a) might have all of the studio creatures running amok before long. There's a half-finished vulture lurking on the easel who will surely conspire with her to cause havoc and mayhem. I never did mind a little mayhem - it's the lack of rhyming that gets my goat.
About the event: "Treat Yourself" June 6 - 7 at Artistic Souls Gallery on Facebook. A handful of artists pushing boundaries in their art during a two day melee event and online art auction. To participate, join the Facebook group and view the art previews over the next two weeks. Event goes live at 11 am est on June 6.
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The only way to be truly confident is to simply become comfortable with what you lack.
Read that again.
The big charade with confidence is that it has nothing to do with being comfortable in what we achieve and everything to do with being comfortable in what we don’t achieve.
- Mark Manson in this article.
Read that again.
The big charade with confidence is that it has nothing to do with being comfortable in what we achieve and everything to do with being comfortable in what we don’t achieve.
- Mark Manson in this article.
The universe is having a good old time with me today.
I sat here contemplating what on earth to say - what to post - when I have nothing ready to show you. What to say when I am feeling less than confident about this whole being a human in the world thing.
I sat here contemplating what on earth to say - what to post - when I have nothing ready to show you. What to say when I am feeling less than confident about this whole being a human in the world thing.
post-hike cloud magic
sparkles in the world of waterfalls
And then Manson's article falls in my lap.
The cure for missing confidence is becoming comfortable with what I haven't achieved. What I don't have. What I am not. As Manson brilliantly explains, neither external achievement nor internal cheerleading will build lasting confidence. And I'd like to be more consistently confident in all aspects of my humanness - both art and just being.
So here is a post where I say to you "dear reader, I have paintings all over my studio in various states, but nothing to show you today. I am okay with not having achieved this right now. I'm gonna launch some love bombs all over that unfinished business . Because I'm okay with that. "
Now off you go to be okay with everything you don't get done today, confident human! xo
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It's No Use Going Back to Yesterday
"It's No Use Going Back to Yesterday" - acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas, 24" x 30" x 1.5" Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”― Lewis Carroll
“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”― Lewis Carroll
I have spent a lot of time in yesterday.
More than yesterday deserves, I believe. I have also spent a lot of time in tomorrow, which clearly has not yet earned a moment of my attention.
Full confession, the lands of what if, maybe when and if only have also received way too many of my mental travel dollars. And it isn't always a pleasant vacation there, if you know what I mean. I think their travel ads read something like "MAYHEM! DISASTER! FAILURE and FROWNS! Come to what if and every awful thing can be YOURS!" I mean, who are their writers and why are they in my thoughts?
More than yesterday deserves, I believe. I have also spent a lot of time in tomorrow, which clearly has not yet earned a moment of my attention.
Full confession, the lands of what if, maybe when and if only have also received way too many of my mental travel dollars. And it isn't always a pleasant vacation there, if you know what I mean. I think their travel ads read something like "MAYHEM! DISASTER! FAILURE and FROWNS! Come to what if and every awful thing can be YOURS!" I mean, who are their writers and why are they in my thoughts?
The beauty of Carroll's words is this: we are truly not the people we were just a day before today. And that also means we are not who we will be tomorrow. No sense going back. Even less sense going forward. I suppose I should hang out here in today for now. And for now. And now, too. :)
About the art: Using a hike photo as a compositional reference and a Monet painting as a palette reference. Varying brush, wedge, paper towel and fingers (no forearms in this one!) and moving around the painting constantly. Resisting the urge to reproduce the photo. The most challenging part was keeping my hands off the bolder colors. But it was the right thing to do. Loving the softness of this one.
About the art: Using a hike photo as a compositional reference and a Monet painting as a palette reference. Varying brush, wedge, paper towel and fingers (no forearms in this one!) and moving around the painting constantly. Resisting the urge to reproduce the photo. The most challenging part was keeping my hands off the bolder colors. But it was the right thing to do. Loving the softness of this one.
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"The World Comes Rushing In" -oil on cradled wood panel, 12" x 16" x 1.25". Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
It remains important to reach out and to express oneself, but underneath that is the need to be porous and real. Through the open heart, the world comes rushing in, the way oceans fill the smallest hole along the shore. It is the quietest sort of miracle: by simply being who we are, the world will come to fill us, to cleanse us, again and again.
--Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening
Being porous and real.
I feel like my heart is at the ends of my skin - sensing everything, It's overwhelming, this open heartedness. And yet it is revelatory. The world is rushing in, filling nooks and crannies with all manner of goodness and experience I never imagined.
Yesterday, I stood on top of the highest peak in the Columbia River Gorge with an extraordinary human. Three years ago, I was heading into a massive surgery which could have limited the rest of my life while my personal world was unraveling. Grateful is not a big enough word.
It remains important to reach out and to express oneself, but underneath that is the need to be porous and real. Through the open heart, the world comes rushing in, the way oceans fill the smallest hole along the shore. It is the quietest sort of miracle: by simply being who we are, the world will come to fill us, to cleanse us, again and again.
--Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening
Being porous and real.
I feel like my heart is at the ends of my skin - sensing everything, It's overwhelming, this open heartedness. And yet it is revelatory. The world is rushing in, filling nooks and crannies with all manner of goodness and experience I never imagined.
Yesterday, I stood on top of the highest peak in the Columbia River Gorge with an extraordinary human. Three years ago, I was heading into a massive surgery which could have limited the rest of my life while my personal world was unraveling. Grateful is not a big enough word.
The World Comes Rushing In
About the art:
This week's project in the course with the AMAZING Pauline Agnew was abstracting our own pond (or in my case, waterfall) scene. The beauty of oils is there ability to go over dried acrylics, allowing an old painting to be used as the underpainting, with some of the colors showing through.
Using brush, rubber wedge, deli paper and paper towel and RESISTING the urge to succumb to realism. Also using a limited palette of colors based on one of Monet's pond paintings.
This week's project in the course with the AMAZING Pauline Agnew was abstracting our own pond (or in my case, waterfall) scene. The beauty of oils is there ability to go over dried acrylics, allowing an old painting to be used as the underpainting, with some of the colors showing through.
Using brush, rubber wedge, deli paper and paper towel and RESISTING the urge to succumb to realism. Also using a limited palette of colors based on one of Monet's pond paintings.
The world is slowing re-opening.
Thanks to Cafe Eleven in Woodlawn for hosting a solo show of my work in the neighborhood! It's spectacular to have art in the world and people to peek at it.
Here's a little glimpse of the prep and the show!
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"Wondering About the Wild Lands" - mixed media on gallery wrapped canvas, 30" x 24" x 1.5" . Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams.
- J.R.R. Tolkien
When Tolkein wrote about the wild lands, I wonder if he was writing about abstract painting.
Because it is a wild land, this place where we paint things that are not but now are. And figuring out how to tame the wild land just enough that it is pleasing to the eye and yet still makes the heart trip a little (or a lot) is a lot like taming a bronco enough to let you get on and be flung off repeatedly. There exists simultaneously bruising and exhilaration.
He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams.
- J.R.R. Tolkien
When Tolkein wrote about the wild lands, I wonder if he was writing about abstract painting.
Because it is a wild land, this place where we paint things that are not but now are. And figuring out how to tame the wild land just enough that it is pleasing to the eye and yet still makes the heart trip a little (or a lot) is a lot like taming a bronco enough to let you get on and be flung off repeatedly. There exists simultaneously bruising and exhilaration.
Wondering About the Wild Lands
For this piece, a inspiration photo (a lost hike pic) was cropped, flipped and enhanced to saturate color and abstract form. From this jumping off point, watercolor crayon and watercolor were used on canvas to rough in the shapes. Then the requisite 80 million layers of acrylic paint and water pushed around with brayers, brushes, towels, fingers, scrapers and forearm.
Dear reader! Videos will be returning soon! Some new technology and a wee bit of practice training are taking place. Some things come more easily than others - technology and this artist are having a bit of a rumpus at the moment.
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A Brave Participation
"A Brave Participation" - watercolor and acrylic paint on paper, 24" x 18". Available here and at Artfinder.
"It is still our destiny, our life, but the sense of satisfaction involved and the possibility of fulfilling its promise may depend upon a brave participation, a willingness to hazard ourselves in a difficult world, a certain form of wild generosity with our gifts; a familiarity with our own depth, our own discovered, surprising breadth and always, a long practiced and robust vulnerability equal to what any future may offer."
- David Whyte, Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words
Someone recently asked my how old I will be this year.
When the number popped into my head, I must admit to a certain overwhelming sense of panic. Not about being older or any of those things (though I imagine I will feel some of those, too) but about the time. Time, I think, is our most precious resource. Yet we have no clue how much of it we have. So each minute, every hour, that day and the one over there, too, are precious. I'd like to hoard mine. But that's the thing - you absolutely MUST spend it. It's all in the how.
Whyte's words are a billboard of how I want to spend mine - in brave participation, wild generosity and robust vulnerability. But I am also deeply human (flawed, awkward, sensitive, sometimes crabby and all the things humanness entails) and sometimes I am not so brave, not so generous, not so open. I (gently) remind myself to do better.
So far, I wake up each day with another to spend. Glorious, isn't it?
When the number popped into my head, I must admit to a certain overwhelming sense of panic. Not about being older or any of those things (though I imagine I will feel some of those, too) but about the time. Time, I think, is our most precious resource. Yet we have no clue how much of it we have. So each minute, every hour, that day and the one over there, too, are precious. I'd like to hoard mine. But that's the thing - you absolutely MUST spend it. It's all in the how.
Whyte's words are a billboard of how I want to spend mine - in brave participation, wild generosity and robust vulnerability. But I am also deeply human (flawed, awkward, sensitive, sometimes crabby and all the things humanness entails) and sometimes I am not so brave, not so generous, not so open. I (gently) remind myself to do better.
So far, I wake up each day with another to spend. Glorious, isn't it?
About the art: I took this hike photo and flipped it upside down to use as a jumping off point for a larger abstract. Beginning with watercolor and watercolor crayons, then moving into acrylics. Liberal use of water, squeegee, chopsticks and paper towel, along with varying brushes. Resisting the urge to overly define.
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"Thin Places" a quadriptych. Acrylic on paper, each approximately 11" x 8". Available here and at Artfinder.
There is in Celtic mythology the notion of ‘thin places’ in the universe where the visible and the invisible world come into their closest proximity. To seek such places is the vocation of the wise and the good — and for those that find them, the clearest communication between the temporal and eternal. Mountains and rivers are particularly favored as thin places marking invariably as they do, the horizontal and perpendicular frontiers. But perhaps the ultimate of these thin places in the human condition are the experiences people are likely to have as they encounter suffering, joy, and mystery.
—Peter Gomes
There is in Celtic mythology the notion of ‘thin places’ in the universe where the visible and the invisible world come into their closest proximity. To seek such places is the vocation of the wise and the good — and for those that find them, the clearest communication between the temporal and eternal. Mountains and rivers are particularly favored as thin places marking invariably as they do, the horizontal and perpendicular frontiers. But perhaps the ultimate of these thin places in the human condition are the experiences people are likely to have as they encounter suffering, joy, and mystery.
—Peter Gomes
Thin Places (a quadriptych)
The universe must be giggling.
Even as my feet find their way to the thin places in the world (mountains and water, in this case), my art finds me in horizontal and perpendicular frontiers in the class with Pauline Agnew, while my heart finds me sharing the depth of life and the human condition with those I love. And a sweet friend sends me the quote above in response to my hikes. Whoa. Is it possible to feel fully grounded in the thin places? My footing has never felt surer, though my control over the journey is obviously less than I have ever thought I had.
The more I let go, the surer I feel.
That isn't to say the letting go is without anxiousness....oh no no NO! But the more I let go, the more I know I can let go. And the more okay I am with opening my hands and letting things perch gently upon them, coming and going. Sometimes those things stay.
Even as my feet find their way to the thin places in the world (mountains and water, in this case), my art finds me in horizontal and perpendicular frontiers in the class with Pauline Agnew, while my heart finds me sharing the depth of life and the human condition with those I love. And a sweet friend sends me the quote above in response to my hikes. Whoa. Is it possible to feel fully grounded in the thin places? My footing has never felt surer, though my control over the journey is obviously less than I have ever thought I had.
The more I let go, the surer I feel.
That isn't to say the letting go is without anxiousness....oh no no NO! But the more I let go, the more I know I can let go. And the more okay I am with opening my hands and letting things perch gently upon them, coming and going. Sometimes those things stay.
About the art: using a large, monochromatic abstract as a jumping off point to create a limited palette quadriptych. Working all four quadrants simultaneously and focusing entirely on the marks. Acrylic paint, varied brushes, towels, wedges, brayer, hands.
It is rather magical when the blue tape is removed and the four pieces cut and separated. I always did enjoy a good unveiling. :)
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Stop Being a Glass
"Stop Being a Glass" and "Become a Lake", mixed media on paper, each 10.5" x 16.5". Available here and at Artfinder.
The pain of life is pure salt; no more, no less. The amount of pain remains…exactly the same. But the amount of bitterness we taste depends on the container we put the pain in. Enlarge your sense of things. Stop being a glass. Become a lake.
(Mark Nepo’s Book of Awakening)
This week we plunge into the pond. Monet's Pond, that is. With a new course from Pauline Agnew, where abstracting water and its surroundings is the goal. Which works well for this artist, who is spending time around waterfalls, rivers and the ocean.
It is still too cold here to actually enter the waters. But Nepo gives us a way to metaphorically become larger containers for water than we have been before.
The pain of life is pure salt; no more, no less. The amount of pain remains…exactly the same. But the amount of bitterness we taste depends on the container we put the pain in. Enlarge your sense of things. Stop being a glass. Become a lake.
(Mark Nepo’s Book of Awakening)
This week we plunge into the pond. Monet's Pond, that is. With a new course from Pauline Agnew, where abstracting water and its surroundings is the goal. Which works well for this artist, who is spending time around waterfalls, rivers and the ocean.
It is still too cold here to actually enter the waters. But Nepo gives us a way to metaphorically become larger containers for water than we have been before.
I am intrigued with the idea of separating pain from bitterness. The pain will come - part of the experience of being human. We don't like it. We don't want it. We can't always stop it. But it comes.
What we can do is decide how much bitterness we want to taste with it. I'd rather not taste the bitter. And so I become a lake. Enlarging my sense of things. How large a container can I imagine for the things that hurt? Standing by the ocean, I think I can go pretty big with this.
About the art: using sumi ink, acrylic paint, water soluble pencils and oil pastels, creating varied marks inspired by a scene from a pond. Changing tools frequently, moving from different directions and from place to place within the pieces. Resisting the urge to fill in all the white of the paper. Letting the water have its way with the medium. Letting the paper become a lake. :)
Become a Lake
