I Love You

So, where do I go from here?

mixed media

12x12"

I have been doing a lot of writing, in my head. Composing wonderful internal conversations, that stagnate in my brain. Today I decided to give the conversation a page to rest upon.

Eternity is in love with the creations of time. William Blake

That uber intelligence that is all , loves us  because we have the ability to make their genius real. It's a sublime, symbiotic relationship. They are the muse, we are the vessel and together we create wonderful works of art, music, literature, architecture, gardens, delicious dishes, sublime wines, all the "things" that make our life in this dimension, wonderful and amazing. Without us, Eternity's genius would be swirling around the Universe,without form, just an idea, just a thought.

So this morning, my muse whispered me awake with the words, "I love you". Those three little words take up such a small space on the page, but oh my lord, they take up a universe of feeling. The expansiveness of the phrase, I love you. Can you feel it? How it makes you larger than your mere human frame and embraces you in a womb of wonder.

To answer Blake, I would say;

The creations of time are in love with Eternity. 

Since we  have a beginning and an end, Eternity allows us to live on, either through our works or through those we give birth to. So it's important to show up. To open up and only then, can Eternity  flow through us and make our genius real.

Uncovered

Uncovered #3
16" x 20"
Oil & Cold Wax

I wanted to crawl back into the womb.

My doctor asked me to sit and said, "The biopsy came back positive. I'm so sorry."

Tears, unwillingly, fell and licked my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away. And in a daze my husband and I began a new chapter in our relationship.

Through everything, what still chokes me up is remembering losing my hair. Once it started to go, I decided to have it shaved. As I sat on the outside deck of my friends home, surrounded by my husband, my mother and my friends, she took the electric clippers and began to shear. Spontaneously I began to cry, quietly. My mother said, "Oh Evelyn, don't cry."

"I can't help it." I whispered.

It took me a couple of weeks to really look at myself in the mirror. I gave myself passing glances and ignored what was looking back, but then I finally really looked and came to a place of acceptance. Which moved into a position of accepting with spirit. Instead of hiding my head under a cap or scarf I decided to go natural. I let the sun bronze me up and I wore my badge of survival with elegant honor. Strangers came up to me to tell me how beautiful I looked and wished me well. Many women said, "I wish I had the courage to just cut it all off."

I went through several emotional stages. One of the most difficult was coming to terms that my body was attacking me, and I felt a sense of betrayal. Silently this abnormal sleeper cell laid in wait, slowly gathering more like itself, to itself until it was finally large enough to be caught under the microscope of a mammogram.

Thank you, Lord of the Mammogram machine. How many times was I tempted to NOT get a mammogram that year. So there must have been a part of my body that was communicating with me, because I did get a mammogram in 2006 and today I am well into my 5th anniversary, as a survivor.

Art of 9; One, Group Show at McCord Gallery

Postcard designed by Michael Klaus Schmidt, promoting our first group show. Other award-wining artists in our group show are; Dianne Martia, Dennis Salaty, Vianne Korhorn, Tony Armendariz, Jerri Reimann, Cheryl Ann Spran, and Frank Tumino.

What makes this show interesting and unique is our way of communicating through diverse mediums, including pastel, oil, acrylic, watercolor, and pencil. What you'll see is 2D and 3D art work ranging from realism to assemblage, to the fine art of collage.

The exhibit is running through April 22 and we're hosting a free Artists' Reception March 23 from 6:30-8:30 pm.

Coming Home #5
Mixed Media

This is one of the seven pieces I'm exhibiting at the show. Hope to see you at the reception.

Addison Show

Uncovered 2; what is hidden is revealed
(16x20)
oil & cold wax

Just dropped off my piece for the Addison Show; "The Art of Collage: Celebrating the Masters". One hundred years ago, Picasso glued a piece of chair caning onto a canvas and the fine art of collage was born. In celebration of collage as a fine art media, our group, The Midwest Collage Society, decided to pick noted artists who wove collage into their creative repertoire. I chose Man Ray, http://www.manraytrust.com/, an American born artist who was a significant contributor to both the Dada and Surrealistic movements.

"I paint what cannot be photographed, that which comes from the imagination
or dreams or from unconscious drive.
I photograph the things I do not wish
to paint, the things which already
have an existence." Man Ray

The piece above is the second in a new series. The inspiration coming from post chemo-radiation therapy, when my husband and I decided to take a series of photographs celebrating my body and my spirit's ability to survive. Like an infant coming from the womb, I felt newly alive. This series will embody that spirit.

So far I have (6) 16x20 panels, 2 are finished, the other 4 in various stages of completion. I also finished a 4x6 study and have prepped (4) 8x10 panels. The 16 x 20 panels are oil and cold wax, the smaller panels are in acrylic.

Happiness is

the love of my life

When I first laid eyes on him 26 years ago, I felt as if my heart had suddenly decided to sing.

And miracles of miracles, the symphony is still playing.

What is missing in this picture (because I cropped them out) are the lines of red and white wine classes sitting in front of us. We were celebrating the beginning of 2012 and Fred's daughter snapped this at about 12:05 am, January 1. I think she captured the spirit, fun and hope for a new year.

Solutitude

The City We Thought We Knew
8x14 inches

I have been living in my head.
Instead of going into my studio, I have been creating and painting in my mind.
Instead of writing in my journal or posting on my blog, I have been conversing silently with myself.
Am I resting for the next chapter in my creative life?
Or am I stalling?

I finished the piece above a few weeks ago. I like it. It stirs a conundrum of emotions. There's a sweetness, mingled with sorrow. A feeling of desolation and solitude. It doesn't depress or sadden me, but there is something a bit sad about the lone horse, traveling silently past the empty horizon. But when I look at it, I feel a sense of peace. I like the quiet.

My favorite time of day is the quiet time, before the noise of living is heard, speeding past my windows, in a hurry to get somewhere. Every driver, every passenger, have their own stories to live. So before most wake, I wake and I listen to the silence. And I feel a sense of peace.

That sweet time is when I reflect on my blessings and send my gratitude out to the universe. I sense the presence of my husband and two dogs and relax into the safety of their love.

This year my resolution revolves around grace. Being more open, less critical, more loving. less judging. Living up and out, instead of in and down. Which means I need to get out of my head and into my studio. Take my hands off of the keyboard and get them into some paint!