july. part 2.

 countdown to eternity & waiting on forever.  a diptych.

a month's worth of work.  a pictorial.

anchor for my wondering soul 12"x24"

lost and found 20"x30"

all the king's men  18"x30"

love story 12"x24" custom piece

on fire  32"x24"  custom piece

more daily poetry

 “may my mind come alive today
to the invisible geography
that invites me to new frontiers,
to break the dead shell of yesterdays,
to risk being disturbed and changed.”

— john o’donohue, from “a morning offering"

all the secrets to the universe 24"x12" diptych

back in the studio and grace

echoes of spring. mending with sunshine.

it's been a season of taking it slowly,

of learning how to rest

and offering myself grace. accepting it too.

instead of pushing

when i come to the end of my strength,

napping.

instead of beating myself up

for not getting it all done,

books.

let me tell you,

there have been lots and lots of books.

and movies.

and long slow walks with a dear friend.

tea and art museums and more naps.

back in the studio today

i eased myself in

with some playful abstract work.

echoes of spring.  detail.

but the important work

is taking place on the inside

these days.

i just have to conspire with grace

to let it take its course.

something old. something new.

our lady of perpetual incertitude

something old.

an icon.

that familiar feeling.

being the person you've been growing into.

exploration on a beloved theme.

worn out, yellow pages.

comfortable in your own skin.

this and that and other secrets

 something new.

assemblage.

lost in play.

exploration of fresh materials.

the joy of discovery.

that fluttery new feeling.

the miracle of life. 

 

hearty apologies for such a severe

absence of updates in the past month.

we've had life altering news,

joy,

overwhelment,

extreme exhaustion,

overwhelming

joy.

i will do my darndest

in the next few months

to update regularly

with new work

in the midst of sequels of elation

as we prepare for the arrival

of little baby gray.

cheers!

and a wonderful - if belated- new year!

 

new painting, findings, studio notes

the days are flying by this gray season,

yet not without leaving a mark.

it has been a week of:

- painting, drawing, gluing, stitching, burning

8 paintings at once

- wearing big cozy sweaters

- finishing a novel in 24 hours

- adding whiskey to my tea

- hunting for treasure at the resale shop

(is there anything more wonderful than

digging up unique luxuries for under $10?)

- reflecting, journaling, dreaming & scheming

- making visual studio notes mapping out work in progress

(directly on the canvas,

using materials and tools rather than words)

- simplifying my closet

leaving only things i love wearing and wear to death

- ruthlessly slashing at the shoulds in my schedule

leaving only essential and life giving items

a season of no compromises. no half measures.

no kind of sort ofs.

only full-hearted work

and full-hearted rest.

savoring the luxury of simplicity.

cashmere sweater, rabbit fur scarf, 2 pairs antique leather gloves, vintage dress patterns - lovely lovely resale shop finds

like tissue paper but 1000 times better

visual notes for works in progress

 
 i leave you with a sparkle of rumi via

ode 314:

those who don't feel this love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,
let them sleep.

this love is beyond the study of theology,

that old trickery and hypocrisy.

if you want to improve your mind that way,

sleep on.

i've given up on my brain.

i've torn the cloth to shreds

and thrown it away.

if you're not completely naked,

wrap your beautiful robe of words

around you,

and sleep.

the ethereal quality of tea filters atop of black

autumn wonderings and lingerings

 crisp & mellow days are taking turns.

gray days weeping

with the melancholy of fleeting moments.

golden days dripping

with honey

and the fragrance of dying leaves.

only two ways to respond

to the miracle of these new days:

venture out

through the wonderland of golden arches

set against a silver sky,

the streets gilded under your foot steps,

until your heart explodes

of so much beauty.

or

venture in

through the wonderland of your heart

spilling its treasures 

on the crisp pages of your journal.

listen to what the rain has to say

over a cup of strong black tea.

eat golden foods

dripping with the sweet nectar

of the dying sun.

butter

maple

bourbon

caramel

pears

melting into

chewy oats.

sojourn.

meander.

dillydally.

7 steps to getting out of a painting funk

burning stuff once again

darlings,

it's real talk slash tough loving time.

you know those times

when you come out of studio

- having forgotten to eat and sleep for days -

utterly content

and completely spent?

this is not one of those times.

(if it is, how did you make it past the title? and

for crying out loud, pour yourself

a big glass of red, bask in

the glory of it, and enjoy

the fruit of your labor!)

oh, this is different.

you just checked your facebook page

for the 13th time today,

hit refresh on your etsy stats/inbox/twitter,

spent hours/days/weeks getting inspired by 

crying over breathtaking art on pinterest

and even more time staring in despair

at blank canvas.

read on, my friend.

 having come out of a 2, ok, 4 week studio funk

with one glorious full day of painting,

i'm feeling good. in fact,

i feel victorious enough

to impart the bits of wisdom

that really worked for me.

1.admit you have a problem

in the midst of the funk, your creative spirit

expresses itself

in one way only:

by making beautifully crafted excuses.

be honest with yourself.

do you really need more research

or inspiration?

more often than not i find

i'm just procrastinating,

overcome by fears.

2. give yourself a (guilt free) break

don't be tempted to skip this one.

sure you've spent a lot (too much) time

not getting essential work done,

but beating yourself up

doesn't exactly count as relaxing.

take some intentional time off

(a half an hour, even a day if you need).

and make it good!

you'll be much more motivated to get to work

in your newly found

good mood.

3.take a hike

go for a walk. breathe in the crisp air.

get your blood pumping. 

open your eyes. listen.

explore.

4. ease into the work with a bit of play

don't start off trying to paint the next masterpiece.

that buys you an express ticket

to overwhelm town.

instead, go non-committal. have some fun with it.

i tear some lovely papers to bits.

burn the edges.

glue random odds and ends to a failed canvas.

throw some paint.

explore a new way of making marks.

pretty geometry

5. meet self imposed deadlines

now that you've been quite nice to yourself,

it's time for some tough loving.

create some artificial deadlines.

push yourself to the limit.

find that you're made of steel

in addition to the ooey-gooey arty stuff.

surgery

6. turn your computer off and get to work

eliminate distractions.

also, literally,

turns your computer off and get to work.

just do it. 

7. celebrate the little victories

you know what to do.

for me, it's the sweet sweet vices:

whiskey & a nice cigar on the patio.

or working on a fun sewing project:

giving an old sweater

edgy & feminine new life.

cheers! you did it!

tell me your tales of painting victory

and beating studio funk!

beautiful decay

embracing the new season. easing into new work.

after spending every waking moment

for months

working on a single piece,

a welcomed break.

i stepped out and it was fall,

crisp air, turning leaves, and all.

it is quite daunting getting back into

regular work

after having your work cut out for you

for so very long.

so i embraced the new season instead.

took a little road trip to grand rapids

to see all the good, the bad, and the ugly

at the art prize opening.

i spiked my tea with whiskey,

lemon & honey too.

got cozy with my wool blanket,

journaling/list making/dreaming/scheeming.

listened to an entire book series

(book of the new sun by gene wolfe)

on audiobook.

baked

(german pacakes, muffins, breads, biscuits oh my).

caught up with friends.

had more tea.

the procrastinating can go on no longer,

yet the resistance

to staring a new piece

paralyzes.

the only thing to do is ease into the work,

taking small practical steps.

 

 going on a treasure hunt

(i found this wonderful water damaged dictionary -

it smells like a hundred years)

creating textured backgrounds.

painting monochromatic bases.

burning paper edges

and tea filters

with sticks of incense.

painting vintage frames.

drawing figures i connect with.

and slowly, i pick up momentum

and inspiration follows.

how about you?

do you run into this resistance to new work?

how do you push through?

art prize 2012 - my entry

'unfinished poem' mixed media on canvas 4ftx8ft

  

this time, a better reason

for having been m.i.a. 

'unfinished poem' is nearly finished.

as finished as it's going to be.

finally vertical

and ready to go, save for

a few subtle finishing touches.

building a crate

to transport it to the gallery on friday.

a strange feeling letting go of it

after being so intimately connected

12-14 hours every day for two months.

 

thrilled to discover

the wonderful curating at

calvin college's 106 gallery

where 'unfinished poem'

will be showing september 7 - october 7.

and ready for the epic ride

that will be art prize,

september 19 - october 7.

if you're anywhere near grand rapids

during that time,

don't miss it! 

 

 more detail shots coming soon.

in the meantime, i am ready

to start tackling the stacks and stacks

of blank canvas

and pretty frames

that have been collecting around the studio.

but first, a foray out into the world

of people and sunshine

via a 4-day trip to grand rapids.

have a lovely, artful, lifegiving,

and poetry-infused week, friends!

 

progress

 “all there is to thinking 

is seeing something noticeable 

which makes you see something you weren't noticing 

which makes you see something 

that isn't even visible.” 

“one of life's quiet excitements 

is to stand somewhat apart from yourself 

and watch yourself softly becoming 

the author of something beautiful 

even if it is only a floating ash.”

“my father was very sure about certain matters 

pertaining to the universe. to him 

all good things-trout as well as eternal salvation-

come by grace 

and grace comes by art 

and art does not come easy.” 

 

"on some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. 

under the rocks are the words, 

and some of the words are theirs.
i am haunted by waters.” 

all quotes by norman maclean