- Published on
"Brilliant Emergent I" and "Brilliant Emergent II", each acrylic on cradled wood panel, 8" x 10" x .75". Ready to hang. Available at The Salty Teacup
“I believe that in the process of locating new avenues of creative thought, we will also arrive at an existential conservatism. It is worth asking repeatedly: Where are our deepest roots? We are, it seems, Old World, catarrhine primates, brilliant emergent animals, defined genetically by our unique origins, blessed by our newfound biological genius, and secure in our homeland if we wish to make it so. What does it all mean? This is what it all means: To the extent that we depend on prosthetic devices to keep ourselves and the biosphere alive, we will render everything fragile. To the extent that we banish the rest of life, we will impoverish our own species for all time. And if we should surrender our genetic nature to machine-aided ratiocination, and our ethics and art and our very meaning to a habit of careless discursion in the name of progress, imagining ourselves godlike and absolved from our ancient heritage, we will become nothing.”
― Edward O. Wilson, Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge
“I believe that in the process of locating new avenues of creative thought, we will also arrive at an existential conservatism. It is worth asking repeatedly: Where are our deepest roots? We are, it seems, Old World, catarrhine primates, brilliant emergent animals, defined genetically by our unique origins, blessed by our newfound biological genius, and secure in our homeland if we wish to make it so. What does it all mean? This is what it all means: To the extent that we depend on prosthetic devices to keep ourselves and the biosphere alive, we will render everything fragile. To the extent that we banish the rest of life, we will impoverish our own species for all time. And if we should surrender our genetic nature to machine-aided ratiocination, and our ethics and art and our very meaning to a habit of careless discursion in the name of progress, imagining ourselves godlike and absolved from our ancient heritage, we will become nothing.”
― Edward O. Wilson, Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge
Brilliant Emergent I
Brilliant Emergent II
Well that was a long quote! But if you were able to get through the entirety of it, there is some incredible wisdom in there, from a scientist and writer I adore.
Wilson, a myrmecology expert, has me thinking about the brilliant emergent animals we are as humans in our Old World state. And also how very out of touch with that we become as we advance technologically. Here I sit, contemplating these words that I read on a computer and then copied, pasted and saved with technology. To communicate with you, dear reader, via, ahem, technology. Oy!
Wilson's words are tinder for the fire that is our need to get out into it - away from these buzzing, beeping, flashing things and into the wild. Into the swamp, the forest, the fields, the ocean, that lake, that park over there or even your own back yard. Connected with the primordial feel of wind and sun and rain on skin. Connected with being...disconnected. And so avoid becoming nothing.
Get out there today....I'll meet you. Let's get gloriously disconnected.
Wilson, a myrmecology expert, has me thinking about the brilliant emergent animals we are as humans in our Old World state. And also how very out of touch with that we become as we advance technologically. Here I sit, contemplating these words that I read on a computer and then copied, pasted and saved with technology. To communicate with you, dear reader, via, ahem, technology. Oy!
Wilson's words are tinder for the fire that is our need to get out into it - away from these buzzing, beeping, flashing things and into the wild. Into the swamp, the forest, the fields, the ocean, that lake, that park over there or even your own back yard. Connected with the primordial feel of wind and sun and rain on skin. Connected with being...disconnected. And so avoid becoming nothing.
Get out there today....I'll meet you. Let's get gloriously disconnected.
About the art: let's tell this story in pictures...
Congratulations to Dotty S. - Wonder Mike chose you to win Monday's comment give-away! Look for a little something sweet in your mailbox. :)
- Published on
Out-of-the-way Places of the Heart
"Out-of-the-way Places of the Heart" - acrylic on repurposed plywood panel, 10" x 10" x .5". Ready to hang (back has been pre-wired for hanging). Available here and at Artfinder.
In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.
- JOHN O'DONOHUE, To Bless the Space Between Us
I wonder where my thoughts never think to wander?
As soon as I think that, they have wandered there! Yet there is a comfort in O'Donohue's words, where out-of-the-way places of my heart are forming new beginnings. They will be ready when I am. Like a stealth system within my daily operation, there are things happening within that I am unaware of for now. Whoa.
In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.
- JOHN O'DONOHUE, To Bless the Space Between Us
I wonder where my thoughts never think to wander?
As soon as I think that, they have wandered there! Yet there is a comfort in O'Donohue's words, where out-of-the-way places of my heart are forming new beginnings. They will be ready when I am. Like a stealth system within my daily operation, there are things happening within that I am unaware of for now. Whoa.
O'Donohue likes to awaken us to timeless truths. As do Mark Nepo, Anne Lamott, Mary Oliver and so many contemporary writers we've come to cherish. But another way to find timeless truths is through watching Midnight Gospel , where at least one of our cherished writers takes animated form and dispenses wisdom in a psychedelic world. It took me a minute or two to wrap my head around the concept of the series, but then I was hooked. There is so much happening visually in this series that I literally have to take notes to keep up with the words of wisdom the characters are calmly dispensing as they run from zombies and other unsavory situations
I was late to the Midnight Gospel party, and so would love to know what you thought of it, dear reader! Leave a comment below - one cosmically favored commenter will receive a sweet treat in the mail from Wonder Mike, who tells me it has been too long since we had a giveaway. :)
About the art: layers of acrylic paint on wood panel, applied with traditional brushes. What? No chopsticks? No squeegees or paper towels? Yep. Just traditional paint and brushes. But doesn't the wood grain do AMAZING things with the texture?
- Published on
"I Believe In Miracles" - oil on gallery wrapped canvas, 10" x 10" x 1.5". Ready to hang. Available here.
I am in love with Oregon.
Head-over-heels giddy with joyful dreaminess. Nearly, nearly as much as my wild love for Ireland. Here in Portland, the mountains are in view....I can see them if I walk two blocks away. The trees are tall, vast, speaking rushing sounds in the wind as the tops blow like giants in an ecstatic sky dance. And just outside the city lies the gorge - winding, mountainous vistas with deep, cold rivers and a sense of timeless wonder.
In a recent drive up the gorge at dusk chasing a higher vantage point to see sunset, I was awed by the beauty of the forest as it disappeared into the growing darkness. Murky darks merging together as the ever shrinking light was withdrawing. The shapes became indistinguishable - silent sentinels of jagged rock and pine.
And so life informs art again. Thank you, muse.
I am in love with Oregon.
Head-over-heels giddy with joyful dreaminess. Nearly, nearly as much as my wild love for Ireland. Here in Portland, the mountains are in view....I can see them if I walk two blocks away. The trees are tall, vast, speaking rushing sounds in the wind as the tops blow like giants in an ecstatic sky dance. And just outside the city lies the gorge - winding, mountainous vistas with deep, cold rivers and a sense of timeless wonder.
In a recent drive up the gorge at dusk chasing a higher vantage point to see sunset, I was awed by the beauty of the forest as it disappeared into the growing darkness. Murky darks merging together as the ever shrinking light was withdrawing. The shapes became indistinguishable - silent sentinels of jagged rock and pine.
And so life informs art again. Thank you, muse.
I Believe in Miracles
We're heading into a hot weekend here in the PNW. So let's get it started with your weekend jam...you sexy thing. :)
About the art: an acrylic underpainting in deep purples and greens. Palette knife and rubber wedge painting with oils and color wax. Horizontal lines and blurred spaces give a nod to abstraction, instead of a full high-five.
- 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. :)
- Published on
Strangely In-Between
"Strangely In-Between" - acrylic on cradled wood panel, 24 x 18 x 1.5. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
After a couple of weeks with this watery goddess, I am nearly saddened to find her complete. Her presence in the studio is strong and emotive. She reminds me of all the words of Mark Nepo, who compares our trials and traumas to the wearing away of stone by water - softening, melting, smoothing until all that's left is what really matters.
Here is a little peek at her journey:
After a couple of weeks with this watery goddess, I am nearly saddened to find her complete. Her presence in the studio is strong and emotive. She reminds me of all the words of Mark Nepo, who compares our trials and traumas to the wearing away of stone by water - softening, melting, smoothing until all that's left is what really matters.
Here is a little peek at her journey:
"Withdrawal" - oil on cradled wood panel, 11 x 14 x .75. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
We stick to the wrong thing quite often, not because it will come to fruition by further effort, but because we cannot let go of the way we have decided to tell the story and we become further enmeshed even by trying to make sense of what entraps us, when what is needed is a simple, clean breaking away.
- DAVID WHYTE, Consolations
Whyte has me contemplating inner storytelling and the freedom of changing the story, if only we dare tell it a different way. Withdrawal, it seems, can open the door to a new story which just might include the right thing. :)
We stick to the wrong thing quite often, not because it will come to fruition by further effort, but because we cannot let go of the way we have decided to tell the story and we become further enmeshed even by trying to make sense of what entraps us, when what is needed is a simple, clean breaking away.
- DAVID WHYTE, Consolations
Whyte has me contemplating inner storytelling and the freedom of changing the story, if only we dare tell it a different way. Withdrawal, it seems, can open the door to a new story which just might include the right thing. :)
Withdrawal
About the art: Strangely In-Between is acrylic over gesso'd wood panel. Many layers, some thin and some thick. Liberal use of water bottle with sprayer and squeegee. The hair is "drawn" with a paintbrush taped to a long wooden stick, which facilitates lack of control and a looser stroke. In our family, there is something called the "Baleja Nose" (a strong, ethnic, somewhat bulbous appendage) which I love to put on my female portraits. This one is clearly no exception.
Withdrawal is oil over oil. A painting underneath, meticulously over-controlled and without movement or abstraction. Painting on top of the controlled piece allows scraping through to expose some under layers, along with a sense of composition to detour from, allowing the abstraction without losing the gist of it. This technique was so satisfying that I may just purposely paint some controlled pieces just so I can vandalize them later!
Withdrawal is oil over oil. A painting underneath, meticulously over-controlled and without movement or abstraction. Painting on top of the controlled piece allows scraping through to expose some under layers, along with a sense of composition to detour from, allowing the abstraction without losing the gist of it. This technique was so satisfying that I may just purposely paint some controlled pieces just so I can vandalize them later!
- Published on
"Strangely In-Between" (a work in process)
acrylic on cradled wood panel
When near the end of day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things,
No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might come.
from "For the Interim Time" by John O'Donohue
This is a painting between stages, inspired by the in-between space so many of us are in with the world being a bit topsy-turvy. This one is slowly coming to life, whispering what she wants to be, forming and re-forming under many layers of paint. She's not in any hurry, and so I won't rush her.
acrylic on cradled wood panel
When near the end of day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things,
No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might come.
from "For the Interim Time" by John O'Donohue
This is a painting between stages, inspired by the in-between space so many of us are in with the world being a bit topsy-turvy. This one is slowly coming to life, whispering what she wants to be, forming and re-forming under many layers of paint. She's not in any hurry, and so I won't rush her.
The full moon returned this weekend, reminding us of the constancy of certain things. A little comfort - a celestial anchor. And also a lovely, heavenly and glowing birthday balloon in the sky! All the Leos out there might be dancing beneath it. As I should be, exercising after a week of cake and cake and more cake and adventure and excess and little sleep.
One of the little guilty pleasures I had this week was spending an entire evening ogling this book , The Vanities by Terence Lawlor. Can you say COLLAGE SMORGASBORD? My eyes are still popping out of my head. You're going to want one. And then you will never throw away another piece of paper again. You're welcome.
One of the little guilty pleasures I had this week was spending an entire evening ogling this book , The Vanities by Terence Lawlor. Can you say COLLAGE SMORGASBORD? My eyes are still popping out of my head. You're going to want one. And then you will never throw away another piece of paper again. You're welcome.
- Published on
"Walk So Lightly" - mixed media on gallery-wrapped canvas, 36" x 36" x 1.5". Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly, my darling, on tiptoes and no luggage, not even a sponge bag, completely unencumbered. -Aldous Huxley
I came across this article on Medium about letting go. You know how it is - you read something that just resonates to the bone. After reading it, I could feel myself exhale, relax, loosen, unwind. I didn't know I was holding on so tightly.
Lightly, my darling, on tiptoes says Huxley. Which seems counterintuitive during tumultuous times. Completely unencumbered he advises. I contemplate this less than 24 hours after a man died in my own neighborhood, killed by multiple gunshots while walking in broad daylight. The same stretch of sidewalk I walk each day with my tiny, ridiculous dog.
So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly, my darling, on tiptoes and no luggage, not even a sponge bag, completely unencumbered. -Aldous Huxley
I came across this article on Medium about letting go. You know how it is - you read something that just resonates to the bone. After reading it, I could feel myself exhale, relax, loosen, unwind. I didn't know I was holding on so tightly.
Lightly, my darling, on tiptoes says Huxley. Which seems counterintuitive during tumultuous times. Completely unencumbered he advises. I contemplate this less than 24 hours after a man died in my own neighborhood, killed by multiple gunshots while walking in broad daylight. The same stretch of sidewalk I walk each day with my tiny, ridiculous dog.
Walk So Lightly
There it is - that quicksand Huxley describes. Fear. Despair. And so instead I breathe through it, cast away the fear and go forward. Optimism is a superpower. And it weighs nearly nothing.
About the art: this is the final piece from the Expressive Seascapes workshop with Pauline Agnew. The goal in creating this painting was to abstract a big wave! There are the requisite 80 million layers in this one. Mostly one glaze over another, leaving both sharp, geometric spaces and hard edges along with soft, murky sections. Primary tools were a large dry brush, spray water bottle and rubber wedge shaper.
It is SO exciting to be participating in my first ever online art auction with the incredible Artistic Souls Gallery! August 2 - 3 only. Stop by on Facebook to see all the amazing art, and to snag yourself one of these lovelies.
Thought-Full
Avifaunal Emissary
Optimism is a Superpower (Monday Magic event - August 3 only)
Incoming Moon-Tide
Dream a Little Dream (Reserve piece)
- Published on
"Whenever and Howsoever" - acrylic on cradled wood panel, 18" x 24" x 1". Ready to hang (back has been pre-wired for hanging). Available here and at Artfinder.
It is six a.m. and I am working. I am absentminded, reckless, heedless of social obligations, etc. It is as it must be.
I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light and I have no shame.
My loyalty is to the inner vision, whenever and howsoever it may arrive.
- MARY OLIVER, Upstream
It is six a.m. and I am working. I am absentminded, reckless, heedless of social obligations, etc. It is as it must be.
I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light and I have no shame.
My loyalty is to the inner vision, whenever and howsoever it may arrive.
- MARY OLIVER, Upstream
Whenever and Howsoever
I've been pondering the muse. That outrageous, ill-tempered, demanding and elusive being I love so much. On the surface, it seems to be a dysfunctional relationship. She appears to hold all the power and to have very precise requirements for her to remain with me. She seems to be unpredictable and moody, unreliable and fickle. And yet... what she requires are the very things my spirit thrives on - adequate rest, a slower pace, showing up every day to practice and create. She wants regular infusions of adventure and new experiences, deep connections and exquisite, luxurious laziness. She wants to surround me with good people and excellent food and the feeling of rain on my upturned face.
And so, as I return to the studio after a brief (but much needed) time of family, connection and adventure, I see the muse nodding at me with bright eyes. She hands me the brush and says "let's begin."
And so, as I return to the studio after a brief (but much needed) time of family, connection and adventure, I see the muse nodding at me with bright eyes. She hands me the brush and says "let's begin."
About the art: created in the style of Scottish painter Barbara Rae's abstracted waterways, this piece strives to push an aerial view to abstraction. Beginning with a heavily gesso'd panel with a focus on texture, adding light washes of neutrals over color. Spray bottle, rubber wedge, chopstick and paper towels used to create more texture. Resisting the temptation to clean edges - allowing one to run over the next until an organic feel is achieved.
- Published on
I've got nothing to show you today.
Well, that's not exactly true. What I do have are three pieces ongoing which are very nearly finished.
The Expressive Seascapes course with Pauline Agnew is drawing to a close. Truly, I believe I could take the course every year and glean something new from it. It is that good. To the right, a corner of a large abstracted seascape in moody cools. I keep sneaking into the studio to smile at it. Do you sneak up on your art, dear reader?
Well, that's not exactly true. What I do have are three pieces ongoing which are very nearly finished.
The Expressive Seascapes course with Pauline Agnew is drawing to a close. Truly, I believe I could take the course every year and glean something new from it. It is that good. To the right, a corner of a large abstracted seascape in moody cools. I keep sneaking into the studio to smile at it. Do you sneak up on your art, dear reader?
It was my goal to get to the coast during this course. To sketch the motion of the waves. To breathe the salt air. Instead, I have been following the story of The Flying Tortuga Brothers, two artists who were just awarded the annual residency in The Dry Tortugas. after a brilliant, year-long campaign to take home the residency prize. Astounding!
To the left, a corner of an abstracted aerial waterway view in the style of Barbara Rae. She does masterful things with acrylic paint and abstracts in a way that makes my heart skip a beat.
To the left, a corner of an abstracted aerial waterway view in the style of Barbara Rae. She does masterful things with acrylic paint and abstracts in a way that makes my heart skip a beat.
As summer expands, we enter the glorious season of Cancer and Leo and fiery birthday people (like myself - you guessed that, right?) and there are weirdly wonderful celebrations planned to mark the occasions without crossing the moose-antler/two adult cats/manatee distance divide common in gatherings right now. And some of those people will receive gifts of, well, art. To the right, a little glimpse. Shhhhhh! It's a secret.
Blogger, painter and shenanigater will be off next week to enjoy some family malarkey, which may or may not include spaghetti on top of pizza. Ttfn.
Blogger, painter and shenanigater will be off next week to enjoy some family malarkey, which may or may not include spaghetti on top of pizza. Ttfn.
- Published on
"Uncertainty is the Essential, Inevitable and All-Pervasive Companion" - acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas, 36" x 36" x 1.5". Ready to hang (back has been pre-wired for hanging). Available here and at Artfinder.
Control, apparently, is not the answer. People who need certainty in their lives are less likely to make art that is risky, subversive, complicated, iffy, suggestive or spontaneous. ART & FEAR
Wait. What? Control isn't the answer? Just kidding - we already knew that, right? I mean, we WISH we could control things into magnificence, but we know that approach is futile. And yet.
I still kid myself sometimes when I start a painting. "I'm going to paint THIS," I say to myself. And I sketch my idea, post an inspiration photo or whatever and set off to make it happen. Sometimes it does (kind of) but mostly the muse just runs amok with the paints and tickles me for thinking it was ever within my control. Which is what happened with this big piece, nearly a month in the making and containing at least three different paintings that the Universe determined were not gonna happen.
Control, apparently, is not the answer. People who need certainty in their lives are less likely to make art that is risky, subversive, complicated, iffy, suggestive or spontaneous. ART & FEAR
Wait. What? Control isn't the answer? Just kidding - we already knew that, right? I mean, we WISH we could control things into magnificence, but we know that approach is futile. And yet.
I still kid myself sometimes when I start a painting. "I'm going to paint THIS," I say to myself. And I sketch my idea, post an inspiration photo or whatever and set off to make it happen. Sometimes it does (kind of) but mostly the muse just runs amok with the paints and tickles me for thinking it was ever within my control. Which is what happened with this big piece, nearly a month in the making and containing at least three different paintings that the Universe determined were not gonna happen.
Uncertainty is the Essential, Inevitable and All-Pervasive Companion
Simply put, making art is chancy - it doesn't mix well with predictability. ART & FEAR
But this repeated experience of being tickled into submission by the muse has been, frankly, transformative. I really don't mind going with the flow anymore - in art or in life. I mean, I'd rather things went down one particular path or another of course, but I have learned to stop and expand my thoughts to include good things that just might happen even if I trip and fall down a perilous path and land with bloodied knees.
Uncertainty is the essential, inevitable and all-pervasive companion to your desire to make art. And tolerance for uncertainty is the pre-requisite to succeeding. ART & FEAR
Based on my level of tolerance, I have now clearly found my inevitable and essential companion. He isn't exactly what I expected, and with a name like "Uncertainty", no wonder he was still single. :)
But this repeated experience of being tickled into submission by the muse has been, frankly, transformative. I really don't mind going with the flow anymore - in art or in life. I mean, I'd rather things went down one particular path or another of course, but I have learned to stop and expand my thoughts to include good things that just might happen even if I trip and fall down a perilous path and land with bloodied knees.
Uncertainty is the essential, inevitable and all-pervasive companion to your desire to make art. And tolerance for uncertainty is the pre-requisite to succeeding. ART & FEAR
Based on my level of tolerance, I have now clearly found my inevitable and essential companion. He isn't exactly what I expected, and with a name like "Uncertainty", no wonder he was still single. :)
A glimpse into the twisted path of the painting:
