"Byways and Meandering" - mixed media on paper, 13" x 15".  Unframed. Inquiries: imajenation@gmail.com

[LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD]
Mother said,
"Come what may,
Follow the path
And never stray."
[WOLF]
Just so, little girl-
Any path.
So many worth exploring.
Just one would be so boring.
And look what you're ignoring...
       From "Hello Little Girl", Into the Woods

 Here we are, journeying through the forest, when we come to a crossroads.  It may be one fork in the road, or perhaps a dozen interesting trails heading off hither and yon.  What do you do?  It is interesting to be an observer when others are making choices.  Some people (take my husband, for example) will want vanilla ice cream every time, no matter how many exotic flavors are available.  Others (like one of my sisters) will try the most interesting thing on the menu, even if there is good chance she won't like it, just to experience it once.  And then there are folks who really struggle to choose at all, perhaps worried that any choice might end up being the wrong one.

It isn't much different with artists.  Some of us love to paint the same thing, the same way, variations on a theme for a lifetime.  There is a groove we get into, and there is no desire to leave it.  Others are experimental, always using the latest medium, support or tool and have a huge repertoire of varied, exciting styles.  And some feel pressured to make a choice between one style and another (galleries tell us to choose one style and stick with it - create a cohesive looking body of work) even if they aren't sure yet.

I don't believe there is a right or wrong way to choose which path to take, in the woods or in a creative pursuit.  Except maybe to make sure the path is the one your heart longs for. Even if your heart wants to sit with the choice for a bit. Following our heart's desire makes us vulnerable, but not doing so is the certain path to regret.

There are a lot of voices in our lives advising us which path is best.  The authors of Art & Fear tell us "the only pure communication is between you and your work."  Whatever your creative pursuit is, you know the best path for you.  Sit down with your work and have a little chat.  The two of you will sort it out perfectly.

Just one more quote from the book, because it made me smile today:

"Art is often made in abandonment, emerging unbidden in moments of selfless rapport with the materials and ideas we care about.  In such moments we leave no space for others.  That's probably as it should be.  Art, after all, rarely emerges from committees."  Art committees.  Hmmmmm.

I'm going to take this trail here on the left of the stream.  I'll let you know where it leads me. :)

"Reverberation" - mixed media on paper, 15" x 22" (unframed dimension). Inquiries: imajenation@gmail.com.

Princes wait there in the world, it's true.
Princes, yes, but wolves and humans, too.
Stay at home.
             From "Stay With Me", Into the Woods

Oh gosh - can I just tell you how I catch my breath when I look at this piece?  It is another big stretch piece from the Stan Kurth workshop, and I couldn't be more delighted.  It's like I've climbed a huge tree here in the woods and am looking way far down to the forest floor below.  I can't believe I did this. :)

But I did.  It was day two of the workshop, when I got good and mad at the underpainting - it wasn't giving me any clear pointers for where to go next.  So I grabbed red, mixed it with gesso, and attacked the paper.  Pure emotion, pure intensity and determination.  I stopped thinking about it.  And therein lies the key.  I had to get out of my own head.

There is a lot of pressure when painting in a workshop.  Twenty or thirty sets of eyes, people walking around and commenting and watching.  It is easy to start wondering what everyone else is thinking about your work and get caught up in an inner dialogue that ties your gut in knots and interrupts the muse like nothing else.  Getting mad is a good way to shut that up!  ha ha!  But don't throw paint at your table partner.

Kurth says: "​You have the power within you to make art any way you want, without the fear of what anyone else might say or think.  Turn off the internal dialogue with all of those critics looking over your shoulder as you paint.  Let your intuition guide you."  wow and YES.

It is tempting to stay safe at home rather than venturing out into the woods (or into a new style of painting).   I am so glad we decided to head out on this journey together, dear reader!  If you are experimenting with something new, I'd love to hear about it. :)

​This is such an interesting concept.  I am intrigued, and will begin to spend more time listening to my own work.  I suppose the hardest part is setting aside all the emotion and opinions I have about my art.  Kurth provided us with the perfect quote to keep us on the right path:  "When you're in the studio painting, there are a lot of people in there with you - your teachers, friends, painters from history, critics...and one by one if you're really painting, they walk out.  And if you're really painting YOU walk out."  (Philip Guston)

While I ponder this further, I am listening to a gaggle of bossy queens, who tell me what their art needs is more queens.  Oy vey!  Off I go.

"Home Before Dark" mixed media on paper, 15" x 22" (unframed dimension).  Inquiries imajenation@gmail.com

Into the woods,
Then out of the woods,
And home before dark!
               From "Prologue Into the Woods", Into the Woods

We're in the home stretch of our journey into the woods.  The last week.  I am feeling a bit wistful, anticipating the end.  The second chapter in Art & Fear says "fears arise when you look back, and they arise when you look ahead."  Indeed.  

This piece, created in last week's workshop with Stan Kurth, is an entirely new direction for me, and I am deeply satisfied in this space of chalky abstraction and symbolism.  There is power and protection in this one.  It is difficult now to recall just how many layers are here, but to give you a better idea, it began like this:

A big part of the lesson in this workshop was letting go...letting go of attachment to bits and pieces of the painting which did not enhance the overall composition, letting go of controlling the paint, embracing what happens and then letting the painting tell you what needs to happen next.  Letting go of control.

It took me a while to get it.  One morning in class, I had to shut out all the distractions around me and just think for about 30 minutes to understand what this painting was saying.  It clearly was not telling the story I started with.  But its story was better. I just had to listen.

The book emphasizes this lesson throughly,.  "Control...is not the answer.  People who need certainty...are less likely to make art that is risky, subversive, complicated, iffy, suggestive or spontaneous...uncertainty is the essential, inevitable and all-pervasive companion."  There is much more, but you get the idea.

​So dear reader, we are out here in the woods, letting go of control.  It feels risky - daring - brave.  And a little bit wonderful.

​I am beginning a new book today, Art and Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking  This was one of two recommended by Stan Kurth during the workshop this week.  It seemed the perfect read for the angst and upset of endings and new beginnings, and a way to move past today's giants.  It's a small book, but filled with juicy bits.  Here's one that made me smile:  Art is made by ordinary people.  Creatures having only virtues can hardly be imagined making art.  It's difficult to imagine the Virgin Mary painting landscapes.  Or Batman throwing pots.

Oh my!  I got the giggles imagining the caped crusader at the pottery wheel.  The author goes on to praise our flaws as sources of strength (oh YAY!  I am the world's strongest woman!) and suggests that art is about overcoming things.  Like our journey into the woods, where we encounter our own fears in the form of giants and defeat them.  I already love this book. 

I will be journeying to the frosty north (well, Charlotte, NC) next weekend for the #100LoveNotes opening gala and to teach a workshop for ordinary people.   If you want to come out and play with me, give me a shout!   Workshop runs Friday and Saturday.  Sign up here.

And in the final chapter, which was about creating the"Bubble" (elimination of distractions), she describes "the ideal creative state, one where creativity becomes a self-perpetuatiing habit."  After this week, I felt a glimpse of understanding this - like I was grasping the thread dangling from the fabric of something really solid and beautiful.

 We've been isolated here in the woods this month, exploring themes and creative philosophy and connecting.  There are only ten more days, and then we will say "goodbye old pal" to this 30 day challenge.  Perhaps this was the perfect day for a piece titled "Fall", which hints at endings. 

There are all different kinds of bravery here in the woods.

I'm pretty good at solo bravery - setting out alone to accomplish a herculean task is much easier when no one is there to watch you maybe fail.  I'm also pretty good at being brave when everyone else is doing it with me.  That's easy and fun.  "If everyone else jumped off of a bridge, would you?"  Well, yes, if we were all doing it together and if it seemed remotely advantageous to do so (like adding "bridge jumping" to my resume).

The hardest kind of bravery, to me, is what Buddhist monk and teacher Thich Nhat Hanh calls "the intimate bravery of letting ourselves be seen."  By this he means being vulnerable, connecting with an open heart and truly revealing our inner selves.  For most of my life, this has been the hardest thing of all.  

And then there was art.  Creating these pieces, each a little bit of my heart and soul, allowed me a way to be vulnerable.  When you show someone a painting you created, it is a huge trust fall! But the more I painted and showed these tiny heart fragments, the easier it became.  Until I started this blog.

Showing a piece of art is one thing, but telling my stories, sharing my thoughts...I cannot tell you how many times I nearly deleted an entire blog post in the beginning, rather than risk being vulnerable.  And again, over time, it became easier and more organic.  Now it is just something I naturally want to do.  A painting doesn't really feel finished until there is a post to go with it.  

If you ready to march headlong into the forest of vulnerability, ready this lovely bit about hugging meditation, created by Thich Nhat Hanh.  And the next time we meet, dear reader, I will embrace you with all of my heart.  :)

I don't know what the lay of the land is in your house, dear reader, but in my studio there is usually a wild rumpus, a fray, a melee, a brawl, a rumble and a monkey-pile going on.  No matter how much I shout "order!  order in the studio!" the creatures and characters have minds of their own and seem to forget the rules of polite cohabitation.  Perhaps it's time to bring Cinderella's Prince over so he can teach them a little something about manners.

But outside the studio, my sisters and I have often been called "the polite family".  It's comical how far we will go to make sure everyone is happy and no one's feathers are ruffled.  Just deciding where to go for the day can be a mega-negotiation, with each of us ready to fall on our swords to make sure the others get what they want.  Husbands and boyfriends and visitors might raise an eyebrow at our antics, but somehow it has worked for us, so we keep on.

I was delighted to come across this article on how to be polite.  The author goes perhaps quite a bit further than my own family (for example, I might not bother to learn what the rules of etiquette are with prostitutes.  Not that I wouldn't want to be polite with a prostitute, just that I don't tend to run in the same circle of friends.  Of course, I've now become worried that I might have offended a prostitute or two, so please accept my apologies and perhaps we could have tea sometime), but I love the pure intention of mastering manners at the level of an art form.  And I learned something from reading this - how to really connect and engage with someone during fluffy social banter with one sentence.  And how to take connecting at social events to a competitive level in order to perhaps overcome some of my own introversion.

So as we continue this journey into the woods, I am going to work on perfecting my social manners just as suggested in the article.  I am wondering what the troll will say when he's talking about his line of work, and I respond with "wow.  That sounds hard".  

This piece is the first in a new series - "The Four Seasons."  One set of these has already been completed and sold as a private commission.  I liked them so well, I started another set!  Though I will post them one by one, let me know if you're interested in the four pieces as a set and I will bundle them on etsy, just for you!​