Life isn't always fair.

And life is messy.

Just when we think we've got it all figured out, we're on the right path, our ducks are in a row, the planets are in alignment...then ZING! POW! WHAP!  A monkey wrench flies into the whole thing and you skid to a STOP.  And like the grandson in this scene, we are thinking the story is messed up, this isn't how it is supposed to be and so on.

But...and this is a BIG BUT (one "T", you silly reader, not two!), how many times have those monkey wrenches turned into the yellow brick road leading you to something better?  I have a theory.  If you follow the wrench episodes far enough, at some point there is a silver lining, a golden nugget, a kernel of truth.  Or an even better outcome than you previously imagined. Sometimes, when I am stuck in traffic that is making me swear a blue streak and point at people and wag my finger furiously (and oh yes, I point at people. I am one of those annoying drivers), I tell myself a story about how the universe conspired to throw this traffic in my way to save me from certain peril five miles ahead, delaying my arrival until after the [insert calamity here  - accident, space ship landing, terrorist bomb, flock of chickens in the road] has passed.  And I'll tell you something - as soon as I think that, I feel better about the messy unfairness of the moment (and traffic) I seem to be stuck in.  Our imaginations have that kind of power!

Above is the final first piece started in last week's workshop.  I absolutely LOVE how this is pure watercolor, yet looks like mixed media and collage!  The process takes time and patience, but the result - wow.  I will keep working on the second piece and see if it is just as magical.

It's all in the name.

In The Princess Bride, the name Dread Pirate Roberts instills fear.  But what about in our lives?  There are names of people that instill fear, sure.  But there are also names we give things that instill fear within us.  For artists, the words "selling" or "marketing" cause knee-buckling and averting of eyes.  When we call it something else ("storytelling", for example) the grip of fear loosens and we are free to move about the cabin once more.  The word "diet" can be crippling, but "make smart choices" might seem less oppressive.  The word "budget" can make many of us head to the mall for retail therapy, but the phrase "saving for a rainy day" might inspire a few pennies set aside here and there.

This painting, named by the incredible audience at the Miami Watercolor Society yesterday, seems quite harmless.  "Rosie" does not inspire fear, but instead a sweet approachability and smile.  Doing a "demonstration" causes my knees to shake and my heart rate to accelerate.  From now on, I think instead I will refer to demonstrations as "painting Rosie."

I suppose I must seem like a very busy person, because there is a question I am asked often:  "How do you do everything you do?"   But this is where it gets tricky.  See, I don't think of myself as doing a lot, really, so the question trips me up a bit.  I do, however, make a practice of telling myself there is time and energy enough to do everything I need and want to do.  There are a dozen other local creatives I know who do as much or more than I do.  And I see them approaching life the same way - just assume you can do it.  And, usually, you will.

Like Westley, you can also survive the fire swamp.

Now let's talk about art.  I am diligently working away on the large pieces from last week's workshop.  But I wanted to show you something else today, so here is yet another piece begun during the workshop and just now finished.  This began as a five object contour drawing exercise, then painting new shapes created by the overlapping drawings.  Several more layers of paint, some scratching and detail work, then some more paint.  I decided to place some words in here as practice for the bit of lettering in one of the large pieces.  I like the effect of the neutral ("Palette Gray") and black breaking up the other colors.

If you're in south Florida today and want to come out and play, stop on over to the Miami Watercolor Society meeting today at 2 pm., where I'll be demonstrating a bit of malarkey.  Pinecrest Gardens Community Center, 5855 SW 111th St, Pinecrest, FL 33156. (Killian parkway).  This is a free event, and all are welcome.

But enough of the smooching.  You might be wondering - what the heck is going on with this flamingo?

This fancy gal is heading to a show sponsored by the 6 Hands Collaborative (a dynamic group of artists I truly admire) and is a response to a challenge called The Bag Project.  Now I have painted on paper bags as substrate, used them as collage materials and used them to schlep my art supplies around.  But never to make fancy clothes for a flamingo.  

And yes, I just had to get one more flamingo out of my system.

It was quite revelatory to discover that paper bags, once gesso'd and painted, feel a lot like leather, and can be folded and formed much the same as fabric.  So a fancy collar for a fancy girl.  Maybe "bag lady" will become the new couture?

Works in progress, each approximately 20" x 20", watercolor on paper.  

Buttercup: Who are you?
Dread Pirate Roberts: I'm no one to be trifled with. That is all you ever need know.
            from The Princess Bride

Ah Westley!  You are a man of confidence.  How we love your cool, calm, suave response.    I think we should say "I'm no one to be trifled with" to ourselves in the mirror each morning (pirate mask optional).  What a way to start the day!

Day two of the Nancy Frost Begin workshop was filled with artists not to be trifled with!  Massive talent in that room.  Each one completely different from the others.  Most of us have not completed a piece yet, as the process is lengthy and can involve up to five layers of paint.  However, I did make progress on the piece I posted yesterday (photo right, above) as I began working in the background layers.  The darks are delicious and there are a lot of subtleties in the details.  I'll work the foreground over the next few days.

On the left, the first wash of color for piece number two, along with a little "dirtying" of the background.  This is just the first pass - miles to go on this one.

In addition to these pieces, we worked on a number of five object contour drawings and then painting out new shapes to discover more painting inspiration.  Whew!  I lot of intense concentration, but a room full of inspired humans afterward.

And now, a few moments with the word made famous by ​The Princess Bride:

I wish I had a basketful of wise words for you today.

Instead, I have one exhausted brain after the first day of painting with Nancy Frost Begin, who is both delightful and extraordinarily talented.  Honestly, I didn't know 30 in 30 would be in February when I signed up for this, so you get my work samples from today instead of a finished piece.  But this counts, I think, since I literally created for the entire day!

I swear I'm in the midst of an intergalactic episode of "Punked".  The universe keeps playing with me.  Don't misunderstand - these are delightful happenings!  But I keep looking over my shoulder to see who is pulling the strings around here.

Yesterday morning began as an art meeting, but ended up as a sweet sharing of stories.  It turned out many of our tales were similar, and the web of interconnectedness began weaving its silvery threads all around us in a cosmic thunder coat.    

Mark Nepo joined in on the topic yesterday, with a chapter on personal mythology and stories: "​under all our troubles, we each have a constellation of personal, foundational stories that we can rely on to remind us of what matters."  He further describes this constellation as something we can use to navigate our way through life, like ancient mariners on the high seas. 

And here is the magic (again, Nepo): "​once lived, our stories become seminal.  Once told, they serve as candles in the dark.  The myths we live and tell reveal the most enduring truth of all: that who we are is more than enough."  Whoa.  And that is exactly what happened yesterday - the sharing of stories, even tough stories, ended up providing a light and a lightness of being from shared experiences.  And that truth - that we are enough - was evident.

It isn't always easy to contemplate our stories, let alone share them with others.  But there is a beautiful gift at the end of that sharing.  And dear reader, I owe YOU a debt of gratitude!  You have graciously joined me in this blog space, post after post, listening to my stories.  Do you know how much that means to me?   Even in cyberspace, a constellation shines brightly.

The universe is having a jolly chuckle today as it coordinates messages and arranges for "aha" moments.

This painting was in progress for a week or more.  And it just came together when it was intended to become today's piece.  Of course, when I read this morning's chapter in Nepo's The One Life We're Given, it all fell into place like tumblers in a lock - click, click, clunk.  In describing a legacy of lessons inherited from his great-grandfather forward, Nepo mentions his own father's ability to make do with whatever they had, to figure things out, to find a solution.  After his dad's death, Nepo says: "They're all gone and I braid their lessons into a rope I can use: to see a way out, to know there will be enough, to figure out what to do. In the midst of trouble, we're always challenged to stand still in the river, till we're shown how to stay alive and give."   Stand still in the river.  Hmmmm.

In order to stand still in the proverbial river, we've got to be mighty confident of our own problem-solving skills and toolbox.  Which means we need to "braid lessons into a rope" which we carry with us wherever we go.  Like Westley on the cliff, we will have a strong rope and a cool demeanor, knowing we have what it takes to get to the other side (or to the top or down from the tree, depending on your particular predicament) safely and without undo peril.

And there's that last little nugget in the quote...not only do we stay alive, but then we give.  It isn't enough to braid your rope and rescue yourself from the current.  Once you get safely to land, it's time to pay that forward.  Sheesh!  But Nepo is wise and right, of course.  Our challenge today, dear reader, is to stand still in the river, give ourselves a rescue, and then help someone else.  Ready? Go.

So maybe a little masking is just part of polite society and getting along in a crowded world.

But the key, perhaps, is finding the level of authenticity that allows you to live your one wild life in the world in a way that respects yourself and those around you.  For some of you, that might mean reining it in a little bit, in deference to your neighbor who doesn't appreciate your daytime backyard naked booty dances while their children are on the trampoline.  For others, maybe those like me who were raised in an incubator of secrets and/or shame, that balance might mean being more open and removing a mask that is no longer needed.  One my favorite role models for living authentically is the artist Patti Bryan.  You'll know from the first conversation you have with her...she is all real, despite an upbringing that gave her every reason to be otherwise.

​Luckily for us, the masked person in The Princess Bride was none other than Westley, the most honorable of characters, who had to play the part of the Dread Pirate Roberts to save his own life.  And let's face it, who doesn't like a pirate?

There is quite a scene going on in the studio today.  It's like plate spinning, only imagine paintings doing cartwheels.  A mash-up of deadlines and demos and contracts have created the perfect art storm.  There isn't any thunder or lightning yet, but it is only a matter of time.

I want to complain and moan and whine about how hard this is.  But that would be a big old lie. It is so much fun and is how I work best, really.  Under pressure, forced to just get started so I don't get hung up on the thinking about it.  Swim or swim, I say.  Sinking is not an option.  But I suppose some days, like Fezzik, I only think I am swimming (or climbing faster) when really I'm just treading water. 

It is only day four of the paint-a-thon, and already the art is getting bossy.  "Paint this!"  "Try that!"  When you flex your creative muscle, sometimes it gets ahead of you.  Bossy paintings are obnoxious until you pay attention to them (kind of like this big dog who is bumping my arm telling me it is time to eat).  But in the end, following the siren call (or loud yelling) of the paint will generally get you somewhere special.  Now the real question for today is:  will I be able to hear the bossy art calling over the people yelling at the t.v. during the Super Bowl? hmmmm.

Thank you to everyone who shared their stories of play yesterday!  The lucky duck whose name flew out of the hat is Dotty!  "Wilbur" will be flying off to you in Monday's post.  Congratulations!