what would happen if ...

Moving On. 20 x 20. Acrylic and mixed media on paper.

I can not force creativity to come. I can only quiet my mind and enter my studio with the spirit of play and the words "what would happen if..." on my lips.

Loreena McKennett "To Drive the Cold Winter Away."

keeping positive

Live Large. 36 x 36. Acrylic on cradled panel.

 

 

It's easy to get overwhelmed by all of the negativity in the news these days. Frequently, I find myself ready to give up or to scream and I know that I need to change the channel or/and unplug and relax my brain. After all, getting upset does not accomplish anything positive.

Even with my painting, I am changing channels and figuring out ways to relax and unplug from all of the stuff in my head. Music helps.

See if you feel better after you listen to Norah Jones singing "Sunrise."

non-Apron painting

The "Apron Stirrings" show continues to hang and draw positive and excited comments. But, now, for a break from Aprons!

Everywhere I look, the Spring flowers are filling the landscape with color and pollen. Timing is everything when you paint between sneezes.

Since my acrylic paints are still out, I continued with them for this subject. The painting sat on my easel for a couple of weeks, unfinished, and unsatisfactory, with no line work. Then, one day I saw it and thought about my India ink and decided to "wreck" it. The lines brought focus and depth to what were good shapes but a boring painting.

Spring? Oh, yes. Bring it on!



The Lumineers "Flowers in Your Hair."

from Notan to painting: acrylic

Here is an acrylic painting inspired by a Notan sketch, this time from my summer trip to the Columbia River Gorge.  Waterfalls are beautiful and powerful and are hard to resist as painting subjects.

20 x 16. Acrylic on paper.

thank you, Robert Burridge!

I came across this YouTube video of artist Robert Burridge painting pears.

And thought: why not?

Instead of pears, I used the beautiful Marilyn Woods vase you see in the photo. 

theater of life

Sometimes it seems the stage is crowded and the dialogue overlaps in ways incomprehensible. Then one character leaves and the rest adjust themselves to the hole left by the one. And then, another joins us. So it seems. With death and birth and marriage. So it has been in my life this year.

"All the World's a Stage" by William Shakespeare in "As You Like It"  (Act II:vii) read by Morgan Freeman.

sense of self

Gathering a Sense of Self, 22 x 22, acrylic

"Every autobiography is concerned with two characters,

a Don Quixote, the Ego, 

and a Sancho Panza, the Self."

W.H. Auden, Selected Essays

I can feel it happening. With each year, I feel the disparate parts of my life pulling together in a weird synthesis. My interests and areas of serious study form partnerships in my mind and come out in unexpected ways. Music (of course), Literature, Psychology, Seminary, and Art swirl together and make a new kind of sense. Sometimes, jibberish. Sometimes a beautiful language with familiar rhythms. 

While my physical eyes seem to weaken with age, I have increasing clarity about myself. Not just the seemly parts, the admirable qualities, but also the darker side, those shadow elements. I can not ignore them because they are sharply focused and obvious. Both seemly and unseemly, fitted together without apology.

It is a gathering of my sense of myself.

"With age comes wisdom, but sometimes age comes alone." Oscar Wilde

I am on the wisdom track.


Santana "She's Not There."

spectators

A Gathering of Spectators, 22 x 22, acrylic on paper

In some ways, I am a spectator. I look, study, watch and seek to understand. Then I think, think, think. And then, I express. It comes pouring out in my paintings.

Lately, I've been paying attention to how people gather. In this painting, it seems to me that just as these three spectators are watching me, I watch them, too. So, the gathering is really not just about them, it is about the viewers of the painting, too.  Them. Us. Back and forth. Watching. And gathering.

Probably because this notion disturbs me, this song comes to my mind. The Undisputed Truth. "Smiling Faces Sometimes."

at first sight

At First Sight, 22 x 22, acrylic on paper

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength,

while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

Lao Tzu

Leonard Cohen "Dance Me to the End of Love."

arrival

Arrival, 15 x 11, acrylic on BFK

Although I have stopped working on it for now, I am not certain that this piece is finished. It started as a figure sketch from life and then continued to change and shift. Today it reminds me that May is around the corner and the arrival of warmer weather in the Pacific Northwest. Warmer does not necessarily mean sunnier, however, and people joke that "real summer" starts after July 4th. For now I can celebrate the sun, the blooms, and the arrival of longer days and warmer weather.

Sarah McLachlan "Good Enough."

figures and Matisse

I am experimenting with figure painting and how I might turn a sketch from life drawing into a painting. This is a new piece and as I painted it, I was thinking of Matisse and his wild use of color and curved lines for figures.

22 x 30 acrylic on BFK

Here is an inspiring video showing many paintings of Henri Matisse. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I have!

doing differently

"Automatic marks are deadly to a painting or a drawing." Bill Park, 2013

These words continue to bounce around in my mind, days after the workshop. They stick with me because they apply so directly and uncomfortably to my work. Both with painting and with drawing, there are times when I stop observing and let my know-it-all rational brain take control. Instead of looking with fresh eyes, concentrating as if I'm completely unfamiliar with the subject, I start thinking things like, "the hip juts out here like this, the calf curves out like so" and my marks look different. Unconsidered. Boring. Deadly.

To hold the focus of mindfulness takes a lot of concentration and determination. And self-awareness.

From start to its current state, this painting has been an exercise in doing differently. I began with an intention to create texture within a blue/green/gold color field. My first orange figure marks started with a monoprint from another painting. I followed what interested me, and kept things moving with energy and excitement. No automatic marks.

One of the most exciting benefits of taking a good workshop is coming away with new ideas. The challenge is to not slip back to old habits and automatic ways of doing things.

Doing differently. I like it!

Melody Gardot does it with "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." That's what I'm talking about. I have never seen a cello played like a guitar before this!

kitchen's full

Company of Women, 22 x 30, acrylic

When I was growing up, holidays were bustling times with lots of people and lots of food.  Prior to sitting down at the table to eat, the group was often divided by sex. The men were out in the garage looking at the newest car, or in the den watching the football/baseball/basketball game.

The generations of women crowded in the kitchen. Sometimes there was room for little girls, too. We watched the rolling of dough, the snapping of beans, the give and take of advice and community. I loved those times when I got to wear an apron and help. Participating in the company of women made me feel grown up and special.

The grandmothers have long passed away. Some of the mothers, too. The little girls have grown up and some of us have families of our own. And I am a grandmother now.

But inside the heart of this grandmother is still the little girl with flour on her fingers, trying to pinch pinwheels from the leftover pie crust.

Cat Stevens "Oh Very Young."

unexpected gathering

"Gathering" finished, 22 x 30, acrylic on BFK

The final version of this painting came through a series of responses to this question:

what would happen in a gathering of aprons?

charcoal drawing with transparent acrylic

Since I love drawing, this stage of the painting was a joy. Loose charcoal lines laid out the placement of the aprons. The last apron became something more with the suggestion of the head and legs. I looked at the painting at this stage for a long time before doing anything else. For all of its interest, it lacked a stabilizing horizontal shape.

stabilizing the horizontal plane

How best to do that? A line would have worked. A horizontal block of color would have worked, too. Or, to continue with the idea, why not an apron?

comes forward, goes back

That feels better. Now I can play with pulling some of the shapes forward and pushing others back.

finished!

Sarah McLachlan "Building a Mystery."

stages of an idea

30 x 22, finished

Change up your painting process and unexpected things happen.

30 x 22, process

It takes the pressure off to think of the painting as an evolution of an idea. The process becomes the goal. To be willing and brave enough to act on the intuitive impulse presumes that I actually can recognize that impulse when it makes me itch to act. In this case, it's a good thing to scratch what itches.

Melody Gardot. "So We Meet Again."

sisters

22 x 30, acrylic on paper

Something special happens between sisters. I know. I am lucky to have two. Over the years we have been close in proximity and far apart emotionally. Now we are far apart in miles, but very close like some sisters are. As we age, we look and sound more and more alike. It's sweet. And weird. And very comforting.

The Andrew Sisters "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy."

the other hand

20 x 16, acrylic on panel

When the aprons become people, it's only natural that the strings become arms. One "Hand in My Pocket," Alanis Morissette.

The other hand can do something else altogether. What freedom!

act on the intuitive impulse

24 x 24, acrylic on board

Lay in paint. Respond to what the paint's doing by spraying, blotting, scraping. Stand back and look. No, don't look, SEE. Act on the intuitive impulse. And never worry that you will overwork the piece. 

New in the studio. And getting stronger with practice.

workshop with Bill Park: don't stop me now!

22 x 17, acrylic on sketch paper

I know I have been to a good workshop when I come home alive with energy to paint more.

After Bill Park's five day workshop, "Painting with Pleasure, Seriously," I want to paint and never stop. I am not sure how it happened, exactly, but during the course of the five days I felt a door open inside me and I not only stepped through, I have taken a few steps to the other side.

Words seem to limit the experience, so I'll just share a few images of my new work and let them speak their thousands of words.

30 x 24, acrylic on canvas

30 x 24, acrylic on canvas

Queen "Don't Stop Me Now."

give and take and the creative act

20 x 20, acrylic on cradled panel

More play with texture, this time with molding paste and Golden's Fiber Paste. I put down a thin layer of the molding and fiber pastes and then manipulated the surface with paper towels and plastic wrap. Once the textured surface was dry, I put down an acrylic underpainting with Quinacridone Crimson, Pyrrole Orange, Hansa Yellow Medium, and Titanium White. 

Each step of this process was an intuitive response to the previous step.

This kind of play reminds me of how I felt at some band rehearsals. With the right combination of musicians, an open and playful attitude, and trust and respect among the players, wonderful things can happen.

You can get a sense of that kind of energy, the give and take, the synergy of  the creative act, with this video. Yo-Yo Ma, Edgar Meyer, Chris Thile, and Stuart Duncan in NPR Tiny Desk Concert.