- Published on
"Cup Water to Your Tired Face" - mixed media on gallery wrapped canvas, 20" x 20" x 1.25". Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
When exhausted from the seeming complexity of life and the demands of others, it makes a difference to know that when you cup water to your tired face, it is from one magnificent and nameless sea. And when you feel the pain of love --mis-given or mis-received -- break your heart, it helps to know what what breaks open is the covering to your soul. - MARK NEPO, The Exquisite Risk
Life seems super complicated lately. And messy. And painful.
There are bright spots...a spontaneous movie day at home with family. Two friends on Facebook having a difficult but very successful conversation about racial justice (so proud of these women), Wonder Mike getting the hang of "sit - stay". Crisp, clean sheets on the bed. And cupping water to my face at the end of the day.
When exhausted from the seeming complexity of life and the demands of others, it makes a difference to know that when you cup water to your tired face, it is from one magnificent and nameless sea. And when you feel the pain of love --mis-given or mis-received -- break your heart, it helps to know what what breaks open is the covering to your soul. - MARK NEPO, The Exquisite Risk
Life seems super complicated lately. And messy. And painful.
There are bright spots...a spontaneous movie day at home with family. Two friends on Facebook having a difficult but very successful conversation about racial justice (so proud of these women), Wonder Mike getting the hang of "sit - stay". Crisp, clean sheets on the bed. And cupping water to my face at the end of the day.
Cup Water to Your Tired Face
Sometimes that's all you get.
Sometimes that's all you need.
And you know what? That'll do.
About the painting: inspired by the wild Atlantic sea off the coast of Ireland, this piece began as a drawing with Artgraf and gesso. Many layers of acrylic paint and more Artgraf, my trusty water sprayer bottle and a big shower squeegee. The final layer is a coat of teal glaze loosely applied and scraped with a rubber shaper. Vertical lines created with a chopstick through wet paint alternating with the edge of the rubber shaper.
- Published on
Incoming Moon-Tide
"Incoming Moon-Tide" - acrylic on wood panel (baltic birch, uncradled), 11" x 18" x .5". Ready to hang (back has been wired for hanging). Available here and at Artfinder.
Freedom has a taste. It’s wild and untamed. The trick is to walk around all day long and roll that taste around in your mouth. When you speak, some of the wild dribbles out, but it’s okay because you’ll make more. At night, when you lay your head on your pillow, you feel the wild sloshing around in your brain and pooling behind your eyelids like an incoming moon-tide so that, when you open them, the wild gushes into the world. - BRIAN RUTENBERG
Here we are amidst the tumult of quarantine and chaos in a country made raw by recent events. Even in my sweet Portland, curfews were imposed and peaceful protests turned ugly. And here at home, a story of love came to an abrupt and unexpected end.
It's a lot to process.
And so I head to the studio, where paint provides solace and a means to touch feelings without being overwhelmed. There is freedom in the paint.
Freedom has a taste. It’s wild and untamed. The trick is to walk around all day long and roll that taste around in your mouth. When you speak, some of the wild dribbles out, but it’s okay because you’ll make more. At night, when you lay your head on your pillow, you feel the wild sloshing around in your brain and pooling behind your eyelids like an incoming moon-tide so that, when you open them, the wild gushes into the world. - BRIAN RUTENBERG
Here we are amidst the tumult of quarantine and chaos in a country made raw by recent events. Even in my sweet Portland, curfews were imposed and peaceful protests turned ugly. And here at home, a story of love came to an abrupt and unexpected end.
It's a lot to process.
And so I head to the studio, where paint provides solace and a means to touch feelings without being overwhelmed. There is freedom in the paint.
About the painting: this is a paint-over. Underneath is a Diebenkorn-inspired study (now obliterated). Using one of the color palettes from Pauline Agnew's e-course and resisting (RESIST RESIST!) the urge to add a hundred more colors to the piece; scratching into the paint with a chopstick to create texture in the hair...trying to capture a feeling of determination and strength.
- Published on
Each Day Empties
Nothing is Lost or Forgotten
"Each Day Empties" and "Nothing is Lost or Forgotten" - acrylic on wood panel (plywood, uncradled) 10" x 12" and 7" x 5", respectively. Available here and at Artfinder.
Possibility is the secret heart of time. On its outer surface time is vulnerable to transience. Regardless of its sadness or beauty, each day empties and vanishes. In its deeper heart, time is transfiguration. Time minds possibility and makes sure that nothing is lost or forgotten. - JOHN O'DONOHUE, Anam Cara.
Where has the month gone?
Four weeks of color studies are coming to an end, and I feel like I was just getting started. From earth to air to fire to water, Pauline Agnew has taken one set of paints and given us the keys to the color kingdom! I will take up residence there for a while, converting our small tubes to big tubs.
Meanwhile, out in the world, there is shaking and buzzing, the sight of my sisters (from a safe distance) and the considered contemplation of how to do things in a new reality. But not yet...Portland is still "closed."
Five days of caterwauling continues on Facebook and Instagram (are your ears on fire yet?) as we approach the big closing number with Gin Blische on Friday. The malarkey meter is glowing red, and the top is about to explode! Just the way I like it. I wonder what June will bring?
Possibility is the secret heart of time. On its outer surface time is vulnerable to transience. Regardless of its sadness or beauty, each day empties and vanishes. In its deeper heart, time is transfiguration. Time minds possibility and makes sure that nothing is lost or forgotten. - JOHN O'DONOHUE, Anam Cara.
Where has the month gone?
Four weeks of color studies are coming to an end, and I feel like I was just getting started. From earth to air to fire to water, Pauline Agnew has taken one set of paints and given us the keys to the color kingdom! I will take up residence there for a while, converting our small tubes to big tubs.
Meanwhile, out in the world, there is shaking and buzzing, the sight of my sisters (from a safe distance) and the considered contemplation of how to do things in a new reality. But not yet...Portland is still "closed."
Five days of caterwauling continues on Facebook and Instagram (are your ears on fire yet?) as we approach the big closing number with Gin Blische on Friday. The malarkey meter is glowing red, and the top is about to explode! Just the way I like it. I wonder what June will bring?
About the art - many layers of acrylic paint in the color palette of the incredible Joan Mitchell, applied with as wide a variety of tools as possible. Allowing the composition to reveal itself, and then following the clues left by the muse. Thank goodness she left one or two for me to follow. :)
- Published on
People don't look at artists for sound responsible decision making. They look at us to monkey around. - BRIAN RUTENBERG
It's been way too long since heap loads of malarkey emerged from the studio. :)
It's been way too long since heap loads of malarkey emerged from the studio. :)
So beginning today...
FIVE DAYS
FIVE ARTISTS - Gin Blische, Trina Tarlton, Carl Stoveland, Lord Shannon Torrence and me.
FIVE PAINTINGS (or SCULPTURES) EACH
FIVE RENDITIONS OF A SONG
That's right. We're singing. Not because we CAN (well, one of us can, I mean, Gin OPENED for Pat Benatar back in the day) but because we want to demonstrate why we are artists.
Because we simply cannot sing.
But the opportunity to entertain was too big to pass up. So we did it. Get your earplugs, head for the hills, and maybe prepare to giggle (or choke on your coffee as I did hearing Carl's rendition). We will reveal one video every day for five days on facebook. It is simply TOO MUCH! I can't stand it... and I can't stop listening. Oh my.
FIVE DAYS
FIVE ARTISTS - Gin Blische, Trina Tarlton, Carl Stoveland, Lord Shannon Torrence and me.
FIVE PAINTINGS (or SCULPTURES) EACH
FIVE RENDITIONS OF A SONG
That's right. We're singing. Not because we CAN (well, one of us can, I mean, Gin OPENED for Pat Benatar back in the day) but because we want to demonstrate why we are artists.
Because we simply cannot sing.
But the opportunity to entertain was too big to pass up. So we did it. Get your earplugs, head for the hills, and maybe prepare to giggle (or choke on your coffee as I did hearing Carl's rendition). We will reveal one video every day for five days on facebook. It is simply TOO MUCH! I can't stand it... and I can't stop listening. Oh my.
~Now 50% off and FREE DOMESTIC SHIPPING~
One Caturday in Doguary
Michael Faced West
Repose
Grandmother Moon
Big Brother
To compensate, each of us has deeply discounted five works of art. Maybe it will make up for assaulting your ears, maybe not. Either way, you won't be bored (and you might find some art for, ahem, a song).
Ready? Set? CATERWAULING!
- Published on
"Lonely Places" - mixed media on wood panel (plywood, uncradled), 12" x 9.5" . Available here and at Artfinder.
Don't Think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. - RAY BRADBURY
Don't think. Don't think? Now I am thinking about not thinking. But Bradbury was right - if we can get into the place of flow, where thinking ends, our unfettered muse can steer us (or shove us hard in the back) toward something formerly just out of reach.
I suppose the best way to stop thinking about thinking is to do things with hands, eyes and ears - as many senses as possible - to keep the monkey mind busy experiencing instead of contemplating. Put me in the yard with a shovel and soil. Or in the studio with paint and music. Remove clocks, watches and phones. WOOOOSH. Hello, Muse. Where've you been all day?
Lonely Places
At the Edge
"At the Edge" - mixed media on wood panel, (plywood, uncradled) 8" x 10" . Available here and at Artfinder.
When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, it is often no louder than the beating of your heart, and it is very easy to miss it. - BORIS PASTERNAK
I am very good at sensing a great moment when it hits me like a bus. And maybe not so good at the soft beats and whispers that thrum underneath the cacophony of daily life. It's gotten a little easier with the big slow down in the world. The trick will be keeping those listening ears tuned to the soft sounds once the volume of the world goes back up to eleven.
When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, it is often no louder than the beating of your heart, and it is very easy to miss it. - BORIS PASTERNAK
I am very good at sensing a great moment when it hits me like a bus. And maybe not so good at the soft beats and whispers that thrum underneath the cacophony of daily life. It's gotten a little easier with the big slow down in the world. The trick will be keeping those listening ears tuned to the soft sounds once the volume of the world goes back up to eleven.
About the art: these pieces began as collage exercises in the Colour Confidence e-course with Pauline Agnew, and then into my favorite zone of channeling Ornulf Opdahl.. There isn't much remaining of the collage, with exception of the exquisite texture and hints of color. Using collage as a painting prompt to jump-start a composition and color palette is fantastic play! I'll be doing that again. :)
Caterwauling, bellowing, shrieking and MORE! Monday Monday MONDAY! Five days of wacky malarkey from five goofball artists - and an online art sale that will knock your socks off! Stay tuned here and on facebook to grab a heap load of shenanigans to put in your joy pockets!
- Published on
"When Love Awakens - mixed media on gallery wrapped canvas, 20" x 20" x 1.25". Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. Where before there was anonymity, now there is intimacy; where before there was fear, now there is courage; where before in your life there was awkwardness, now there is a rhythm of grace and gracefulness; where before you used to be jagged, now you are elegant and in rhythm with your self. When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning. JOHN O'DONOHUE, Anam Cara
The world is awakening...shops carefully opening, people venturing out. Different paces in different places. If I set aside the worry monster (mine is rather gnarly and vocal), I can make a space to wonder if this is a rebirth for the way we all live together...I can see that love has awakened in our local community. It makes me smile.
When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. Where before there was anonymity, now there is intimacy; where before there was fear, now there is courage; where before in your life there was awkwardness, now there is a rhythm of grace and gracefulness; where before you used to be jagged, now you are elegant and in rhythm with your self. When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning. JOHN O'DONOHUE, Anam Cara
The world is awakening...shops carefully opening, people venturing out. Different paces in different places. If I set aside the worry monster (mine is rather gnarly and vocal), I can make a space to wonder if this is a rebirth for the way we all live together...I can see that love has awakened in our local community. It makes me smile.
When Love Awakens
In the studio, week two of the e-course with Pauline Agnew awakened a love of new color palettes, new ways of seeing light and a courage to try even more outrageous things in the pursuit of art. We aren't yet "elegant and in rhythm with our selves", but we are doggedly determined to make each lesson stick.
In the park last week, we watched a mother swinging her child around and around in that helicopter way we used to swing our own children, recalling fondly the contagious laughter and the word "again! again!" which all children know is the universal signal for halcyon glee. As this painting emerged last week, my painter spirit whispered again again to the muse.
In the park last week, we watched a mother swinging her child around and around in that helicopter way we used to swing our own children, recalling fondly the contagious laughter and the word "again! again!" which all children know is the universal signal for halcyon glee. As this painting emerged last week, my painter spirit whispered again again to the muse.
Something is brewing with this gang of goofballs....
About the painting: an archeologist would have a good long dig excavating this piece! Watercolor crayon, acrylic, gesso, artgraf and many, many layers of glaze. I'm getting better and scribbling over a painting before I head to bed, then waking up and saying "oh!" and finding something wonderful in the scribbles.
Malarkey and shenanigans are multiplying mightily in a new collaboration with the rascals featured in the image to the left. One week from today, something, well, something will be revealed. (tiptoes away giggling behind her hands)
Follow along at facebook.com/jenjovanwalls, facebook.com/trina.tarlton. facebook.com/cstoveland, facebook.com/LordShannonTorrence and facebook.com/gin.music
Follow along at facebook.com/jenjovanwalls, facebook.com/trina.tarlton. facebook.com/cstoveland, facebook.com/LordShannonTorrence and facebook.com/gin.music
- Published on
"Sturdy Enough to Carry the Love" - mixed media on gallery wrapped canvas, 20" x 20 " x 1.25". Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
Can it be -- that all our lives we're just oddly shaped cups and mugs; sometimes clear, sometimes not, sometimes chipped, sometimes too hot to hold? Can it be -- the whole sorry struggle for a self is just to have something sturdy enough to carry the love? - MARK NEPO, The Exquisite Risk
Artists spend a lot of time in their internal dialogue. The crux of the role of an artist is to take what is inside and put it out there, allowing it to touch another in a way that connects with that other person's own inner dialogue. In one afternoon in the studio, I go from hopeless failure to enthusiastic painter to inspired genius to clumsy oaf. And back again - often many times. There is a bit of all those in every painting. The struggle to paint is also the struggle for a self. Chipped edges and all.
Can it be -- that all our lives we're just oddly shaped cups and mugs; sometimes clear, sometimes not, sometimes chipped, sometimes too hot to hold? Can it be -- the whole sorry struggle for a self is just to have something sturdy enough to carry the love? - MARK NEPO, The Exquisite Risk
Artists spend a lot of time in their internal dialogue. The crux of the role of an artist is to take what is inside and put it out there, allowing it to touch another in a way that connects with that other person's own inner dialogue. In one afternoon in the studio, I go from hopeless failure to enthusiastic painter to inspired genius to clumsy oaf. And back again - often many times. There is a bit of all those in every painting. The struggle to paint is also the struggle for a self. Chipped edges and all.
Sturdy Enough to Carry the Love
I like to think that the constant internalization of artists makes us sturdy enough to carry the love, to take it in and pour it out again for others to savor. As I watch the artists in my own creative tribe navigate the waters of current global and personal change, my jaw simply hangs open in awe of their fearlessness, optimism, openness and generosity. It tumbles out in the art, wraps the world in its arms and whispers hey, here's a hug.
About the painting: Some stories are meandering....this painting is one of those stories. Beginning as an e-course exercise in abstracted earthy colors based on an inspiration image, it took a few detours. It wasn't until a subsequent exercise in Diebenkorn glazes that the lightbulb went off and the abstraction fell into place. Acrylic, watercolor crayons, colored pencil and Artgraf. And a whole lot of persistence! (Many thanks to Carl Stoveland Photography for permission to riff off of one of his incredible images)
first inspiration photo
this is where I lost the plot
second inspiration photo (courtesy of Carl Stoveland)
a plot, but not abstracted enough
- Published on
"Blue Monday" - acrylic on wood panel (baltic birch, uncradled), 18" x 11" x .5". Ready to hang (back has been pre-wired for hanging). Available here and at Artfinder.
There is a notion that creative people are absentminded, reckless, heedless of social customs and obligations. It is, hopefully, true. For they are in another world altogether. - MARY OLIVER, Upstream
Social customs and obligations have changed in recent weeks. There is a sweet sort of dance taking place on sidewalks and streets. Dodging and side-stepping and you first - no you. Sometimes this is graceful and light-footed and airy. And other times awkward with a stop-start-stop step pattern which holds no real rhythm.
I've always found myself to be awkward in the world. Cues are misread, words spill out ungracefully and footsteps fall in the wrong places and with heavy placement. Sometimes this is funny and dare I say adorable? But other times, yep, not so good. I do a lot of explaining.
There is a notion that creative people are absentminded, reckless, heedless of social customs and obligations. It is, hopefully, true. For they are in another world altogether. - MARY OLIVER, Upstream
Social customs and obligations have changed in recent weeks. There is a sweet sort of dance taking place on sidewalks and streets. Dodging and side-stepping and you first - no you. Sometimes this is graceful and light-footed and airy. And other times awkward with a stop-start-stop step pattern which holds no real rhythm.
I've always found myself to be awkward in the world. Cues are misread, words spill out ungracefully and footsteps fall in the wrong places and with heavy placement. Sometimes this is funny and dare I say adorable? But other times, yep, not so good. I do a lot of explaining.
Blue Monday
The Oliver quote above made me pause and smile to myself. It is true. I can be absentminded....but only because my head is busy thinking other things. I am always thinking. Thinking while I walk while I plan while I compose while I write while I paint while I water the plants. There is a whole world of thought in there which I haven't yet tired of exploring. Maybe that is just the lot of the introvert. Or the fertile ground of the creative. But in the new social order, I will likely do-se-do instead of grapevine left. Mind yer toes, there.
About the painting: painted directly on unprimed wood using acrylic paints. The colors were mixed largely to match a neutral eye shadow palette (an exercise from Pauline Agnew's Colour Confidence e-course), which were, in turn, inspired by a self portrait Rembrandt painted at the age of 63. These soft, shadow colors are absolutely delicious.
- Published on
"A Thousand Tiny Failures" - acrylic on wood panel (baltic birch, uncradled) 6.5" x 9.5" x .5". Ready to hang (back has been pre-wired for hanging). Available here and at Artfinder.
Improvement at anything is based on thousands of tiny failures.
- MARK MANSON, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*CK
Oh, the studio is a rumpus room for the month of May, as Brian and I begin a month long e-course with the always incredible Irish artist Pauline Agnew. This course focuses on color, which is perfect during May when there seems to be a riot of color everywhere around us.
Improvement at anything is based on thousands of tiny failures.
- MARK MANSON, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*CK
Oh, the studio is a rumpus room for the month of May, as Brian and I begin a month long e-course with the always incredible Irish artist Pauline Agnew. This course focuses on color, which is perfect during May when there seems to be a riot of color everywhere around us.
A Thousand Tiny Failures
color studies
There are piles of color studies in the studio. Some of them may inspire a painting (like today's piece). The bulk of them will end up in the bin. But each of them is one of the thousand tiny failures required to produce something wonderful.
This is true in life just as in painting. We try. We fail. We try again and fail again until it seems like we many never succeed at [insert your favorite thing to fail at here]. Then, Manson says, we often become afraid to fail and stick only to what we're already good at. That's where the DO SOMETHING principle comes in. Just do something. Anything. The smallest thing. And get the snowball rolling toward being successful at that thing that once seemed impossible. Ready? GO!
About the painting: this began as one of the course color studies, which became an underpainting for the final piece. Acrylic paint, palette knife, paint brush, spray bottle and rubber wedge. The chromatic black is my new favorite color - a mix of Van Dyke Brown and Prussian Blue. Of the colors nearest to black in art, Pauline says the goal is "dark, not dead." Omg. Right on, I say.
- Published on
We have a guest blogger today - he hijacked my laptop and threatened me with death (seriously - those CLAWS!) He was locked in the studio until 4 am pounding away at the keyboard. My sincere apologies for the following. :)
There are places here.
Places I can only go when the two-legs are behind the moving wall in the dark time. My eyes do not need light. I can go to all the places. Blast. Except that round place with the chewy green leafy that falls over and launches me through the air to the other side of the room where I land of course on my feet. All of the other places are mine.
There are things here.
Things I cannot touch in the light without explosions of noise from the two-legs. Things I will touch anyway. Things that are mine. All the things are mine.
There are also the live things here.
The two-legs who confound and annoy and ignore my commands. Their teeth flash often. Why so hostile? It puzzles me. The four-leg is ridiculous. I swat him as he goes by on the climbing place. The four-leg is also mine. But I do not want him.
That is all the things. Now go.
Places I can only go when the two-legs are behind the moving wall in the dark time. My eyes do not need light. I can go to all the places. Blast. Except that round place with the chewy green leafy that falls over and launches me through the air to the other side of the room where I land of course on my feet. All of the other places are mine.
There are things here.
Things I cannot touch in the light without explosions of noise from the two-legs. Things I will touch anyway. Things that are mine. All the things are mine.
There are also the live things here.
The two-legs who confound and annoy and ignore my commands. Their teeth flash often. Why so hostile? It puzzles me. The four-leg is ridiculous. I swat him as he goes by on the climbing place. The four-leg is also mine. But I do not want him.
That is all the things. Now go.
Guest Blogger Norbit
About the painting: sketched and painted directly on the wood. Acrylic and acrylic mixed with gesso. Liberal use of water bottle and rubber wedge. Charcoal added to smudge features in the final layer, Finished with a coat of a low-odor sealant spray to preserve the charcoal.
I do believe Norbit could quite possibly be the reincarnation of Prince. Just sayin'.
