a room for evelyn

 finding inspiration 

for a fresh dreamy space

for my sweet girl.

the title of this book

(by catherynne valente)

sums it up pretty well:

"the girl who circumnavigated fairyland

in a ship of her own making"

there will be whimsy,

adventures, magic, cute critters,

warrior princess spunk,

and wonderful new worlds to explore.

 

1.gold star cloud mobile by baby jives co

2.hedgehog cutie by glad o art

3.paper mâché wolf by abigail brown

4.vintage vanity set at sadie olive

5.victorious print by the black spot books

6.little red mobile at acorn toy shop

7.vintage mirror and brush set at bluey loves cocoa

8.driftwood boat by yalos

9.mountain range cushions by acordion apparel

10.vintage marble globe at harmonicajane

11.white felt deer by two sad donkeys

12.falling star collage by sushipot

13.felted pillow sheepscape by dellalana

14.moon engraving astronomy print by the curators print

15.searching from neverland print by esther from the sticks

16.new france antique map print at maps and posters

 

out of hibernation

 hello, world!

i'm alive and well once again. 

"everything is blooming most recklessly"

and i'm inhaling the miracle of it all

in big gulps.

loads of life are blowing up all around me,

deep within,

my days are overflowing with loads of life.

isn't spring simply wonderful?

in this season when so much needs to be done,

i've been reflecting

on how to make the non-art work

meaningful, artful, poetic...

how to infuze every living moment

and every bit of work

with joy, creativity, beauty.

"you are worried and upset about many things"

jesus says to martha

"but few things are needed -

and indeed only one.

your sister has chosen

what is better

and it will not be taken away from her."

in reaching for the one thing,

i breathe through my work.

i take out the trash gratefully,

i do the dishes lovingly,

i grocery shop creatively,

i hold on to the joy of the studio

 as i go about the million little errands

that make up life.

back at my workbench,

i let go of what i think should be,

and play with textures,

keeping it light.

here is a glimpse at details

of a new work in progress.

"but listen to me for one moment.

quit being sad.

hear blessings

dropping their blossoms

around you."

-rumi

 

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

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?

playing with fire

  

'you will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms. the rim
of the sky will be the color of hard crimson,
and your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.'

- anna akhmatova

a longing.

silence & incense;

the murmur of tea

being poured

into clay bowls,

almost a prayer.

the smoke. the vapor.

breath.

days.

a sea of egg shells. an unfinished poem.

'went to bed with an unfinished poem

in my mouth

and could not kiss.'

-vera pavlova

this is what happens

when i have work in progress.

 taking a break from the egg shells

to work on this new piece. 

a thrifted framed canvas. 

bathed in layers of white.

texture hinting at original painting 

beneath. the minimalist in me

wants to leave it at that.

pure. simple.

pages from the journal

of a week without a tea pot

beg to join in.

the architect in me

wants to leave it at that.

what happens next?

vintage finds. progress.

thrift stores make me giddy

with the thrill of discovering

hidden treasures.

found this week:

large vintage ornate frames.

and a couple of perfectly weathered antique books.

the frames, complete with

good quality wrapped canvas,

tease me to start painting

right on top

right away.

progress on the art prize piece.

the overhead shot makes it easier

to see what needs to be shifted,

adjusted.

4 coats of paint

on each egg shell

yet to be done,

still, what makes me nervous

is the negative space.

no clear idea

of what needs to be done. 

oh, and i need more egg shells.

  

a day's work.

"but tomorrow, dawn will come the way i picture her, barefoot and disheveled, standing outside my window in one of the fragile cotton dresses of the poor. she will look in at me with her thin arms extended, offering a handful of birdsong and a small cup of light. 

-billy collins

“hello, sun in my face. 

hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields...

watch, now, how i start the day in happiness, in kindness.”

-mary oliver

sketch on my chalk board wall

from memory.  latest completed piece.

goings on in the studio

 beginnings of art prize piece. clearly

more egg shells are necessary.

omelet anyone?

 progress on 'irrational season' piece.

at least i hope it's progress.

hard to tell sometimes.

 

finally pleased with where this one's at. it took

a week of staring to figure out

what was needed.

mixed responses to this piece

make me wonder.

i fight fiercely

against the objectification of women.

is it possible

for my work to be interpreted

otherwise?

i would love your input!

playing with textures

out of work at my part time job

(painting/remodeling/construction)

(yep, when i'm not painting, 

i'm painting)

which means no money

and plenty of studio time.

large scale abstract textured work

beckons me.

a 4'x8' piece for grand rapids' art prize

is in the making.

i have been saving egg shells

for months for this one.

working on a couple of other pieces

to add to my as-of-late-neglected etsy shop

as well.

it has been fun experimenting

playing with acrylic, latex,

coffee, tissue paper, egg shells,

pulling paper off wet paint

to discover wondrous patterns,

embedding random objects,

dipping, stretching, dripping...

it has also been

a bumpy ride.

dabbling in doubt

and feelings of inadequacy.

stuck, staring at the canvas

for eternities.

for this too, i am grateful

for i have the privilege

of being an artist.

what excites you

and haunts you 

in your work today?

 

spring. space.

'everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.'

- rainer maria rilke

'it's spring fever. that is what the name of it is. and when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you *do* want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!'

- mark twain

 

 grateful.  for oh so many things.

sunshine pouring through wide open windows.

stolen apple blossoms on my table.

new beginnings. 

outpouring of life.

(even the snakes coming out to play)

most of all

this space.

to be

and to create from.

and you,

this crazy beautiful family

to share the journey with.

i propose a toast.

to yes!