Good bye, my little friend

A sure sign of spring is when my friend and neighbor, Sid, comes back to this home from her winter home. 

About nine years ago, Sid and Henry came home with a cute cocker spaniel. Sam was just a puppy when Henry needed to have surgery. Sid asked if I could take care of Sam. Since we live right next to each other, she gave me a baby monitor, so I could listen to his antics in the  kitchen, while I wasn't there. Who can refuse spending time with a warm, cuddly, tail wagging, happy little puppy. Needless to say, I was over at Sid's a lot. 

That early bonding experience made a lasting impression on both of us. I didn't realize how strong, until that next winter, when Henry, Sid and Sam left for their winter home. When they came back that spring, as soon as Sam saw me, he ran over, smiling. Yes, smiling. I'll never forget it. And Sid said, "Oh look, he loves you so."

This happened every spring and throughout the summers. Whenever Sam would see me, he would, first run and as he grew older, trot, over, with this big smile, and kiss me and wait for that loving connection, as my hand would stroke his fur and I would whisper soothing words into his ears. Even after he went deaf, I still spoke to Sam.

We had an uncanny connection. As if we were spirits together in a past life. 

Sam grew into a handsome spaniel, with rich, glossy, dark chestnut fur. Always the gentleman, he would trot over to greet our cavaliers through the screen door, then he would either come in, or they would go out and have their special spaniel conversations. 

Sid came home a few days ago and I haven't seen Sam. I called her last night and she told me he passed away on March 6. What can I say. There are no words. We cried silently on the phone, together.

Sam was blessed with a home rich in love, belly rubs, play time, food and treats. Sid and Henry adored Sam. He had a good, good life, but for those left behind, a life too short.

Good bye, my little friend. We'll see you on the other side.

Creative exuberance

Sometime in the earliest of morning hours, I woke briefly to these words:

I entered this world with extreme care,

following on the heels of old poets.

I quickly scribbled them in the dark, on the pad next to my bed and fell down back into sleep. 

The muses are flying around, sprinkling words of wonder on the world, and sometimes we get lucky and happen to catch a few.

Progression. The piece below started off not exactly like this, the figure in the middle was more prominent and the colors were different. I wasn't happy with it so I flew towards the canvas and "attacked" it will new colors and swam them around with a squeegee. That's when the title came to me; Layer Cake.

Layer Cake

I let it sit, for weeks, not really sure what to do, but knowing, for me, it still wasn't done. This past weekend I finally got brave enough and "attacked" it again.

Layer Cake

I'm letting it sit, again. It's almost finished. I'm waiting for her to tell me what to do next.

 16 x 20 inches on 2 inch cradle board. Oil, wax, collage.

Thank you, Billy Collins

Envoy

Go, little book, 

out of this house and into the world,

carriage made of paper rolling toward town

bearing a single passenger

beyond the reach of this jittery pen

and far from the desk and the nosy gooseneck lamp.

It is time to decamp,

put on a jacket and venture outside,

time to be regarded by other eyes,

bound to be held in foreign hands.

So off you go, infants of the brain,

with a wave and some bits of fatherly advice:

stay out as late as you like,

don't bother to call or write,

and talk to as many strangers as you can.

Thank you, Billy Collins, for teaching me to pause at the commas of life and love poetry.

Thoughts about reading, writing and no arithmetic

As an artist, I have more than one artist pursuit. Along with painting I also like to write, and reading is like a glove to that pursuit.

I was listening to Terry Gross interview Penelope Lively (love that name) the other day. They were discussing her memoir; Dancing Fish And Ammonites, which she refers to as a "view from old age".

At one point Terry Gross shared that she has books all over the house, on tables, resting on the floors, everywhere and she asked Lively if she also had a lot of books and if so, why keep them all.

 Lively said she owns over 3,000 books and at one point she wanted to downsize and move into a smaller place, problem; she couldn't find a place that would hold her wealth of books.

She believes her books are a historical pathway toher way of thinking, her interests, mundane and erudite. A measure of her intellectual self.

As I thought about that, it occurred to me I would rather lose my wallet than my journal. I can replace the credit cards, insurance card, drivers license, but I can't replace my thoughts.

Gateway

Reflections Of Light

Acrylic with Mica

10 x 22.5"

 

It's common to say trees come from seeds. But how could a tiny seed create a huge tree? Seeds do not contain the resources needed to grow a tree. These must come from the  environment within which the tree grows. But the seed does provide something that is crucial: a place where the whole tree starts to form. As resources such as water and nutrients are drawn in, the seed organizes the process that generates growth. In a sense, the seed is a gateway through which the future possibility of the living tree emerges. Presence: Human Purpose and the Field of the Future.

I remember picking up this book, flipping open to the first page, and reading the above passage, I felt as if an electrical current had passed through my body and I knew I had to read this book.

The authors, Peter Senge, C.Otto Scharmer, Joseph Jaworksi and Betty Sue Flowers meet for a year and a half probing how a new theory about change can improve our world. 

 

Letting go is a big part of their conversations. Letting go of our own perceptions of how things should be, our invested egos, our desire to control. When we can do that we experience a shift of thinking, a collective consciousness, which allows us to become the gateway for the possibility of change. Tibetan Buddhism call this "wisdom awareness".

As I read these two words I realized, as children we were inherently wisdom aware. There was no separation between us and "them", no separation between us and our  environment. It was only as we grew and learned to speak that we were taught the labels of all things and we began to separate. 

 

As artists, we are naturally wisdom aware when we are in the midst of a creative session. All time stops and we are so unaware that we become supremely aware. It is in those magic moments when we become the gateway through which our art emerges.

What a lovely way

A muse, the muse, my muse,whispered me gently back to this world with these words:

Lucky to love

be in love

bursting with love

for you.

What a lovely way to wake up.

Behhind every great artist is another great artist

Hidden Gestures

10x22.5 inches

acrylic on watercolor paper

Artist and calligrapher, Yves Letterme, illustrates in his book, Thoughtful Gestures, how our own marks can be beautiful and mysterious.

Since reading his book I have been more courageous at experimenting with gestures in my work. 

At first, I thought I should learn basic calligraphy; HA! instead I learned I don't have the patience.

Reading Letterme's book and Gina Jonas's, Finding the Flow, I discovered the basics aren't essential if cultivating your own mark making is the goal. 

I've been writing since I was able to hold a pencil and have developed a distinctive style, Jonas and Letterme have shown me how I can take it a step farther.

I rediscovered my passion for painting and collage in 2007. What I didn't anticipate was all the creative artists, teachers, and mentors I would meet along the way.

The internet has proven to be a vital, dynamic resource for creative exchange,
and the breadth of art is almost infinite. If I'm not careful, I could end up being lured into a vortex of continuous observation instead of adding to the poetic inventory.

So I turn off my computer and turn into my studio. 

Inspiration and stepping beyond my comfort zone

She Had To Fight Her Way Out

15x30 inches

Mixed Media

"Where I create, there I am true". Rainer Maria Rilke

In two months I will be attending an Intensive Studies Seminar in NM. In preparation, the instructors have asked us to submit a statement of intention along with three examples of our current work. This assignment encouraged me dig deeper into my creative motivations. Will I have the courage to open to the point where I am creating, there I am true? It is my intention and every night I send out a prayer to the Universe asking for the courage to surrender.

I have an idea for a series which I want to develop at the seminar. The almost finished piece above is the first. Can you see the man's face? He appeared without my direct help. When I stepped away from the canvas, there he was, not looking extremely pleased. And as I saw him, the title floated into my head.

  
The series will explore the compromises women make to survive and enjoy success and happiness in this male dominated space. One title I am considering is Fee-Male. What fees, emotionally, physically and financially do we pay to be the yin to the male yang?

 

I want to explore this concept using abstract thought and verbalizing my thinking with color and texture. Titles are also important, as they represent the gateway to the artist's intention. So my challenge will be using paint, texture and an abbreviated sentence to convey my intention. If successful, these three elements will lead to thoughtful communication.

Jeane Myers http://www.jeanemyers.com/  an artist whose work I admire,

is very good at expressing her intentions on canvas. There are many contemporary artists who inspire and influence my work. What attracts me to Jeane's is her uncanny ability to make the entire canvas rich and interesting. Each line, each corner, has a secret that needs discovering. 

So, coming back to center, will I have the courage to be true? This question will be my beacon during the ISS. 

Why Do We Blog?

Mark Making #1

12 x 6 inches

Mixed Media on Chrome Substrate

Since I was a kid I've had a journal. I loved to write about "stuff". I still do. 

Today I make my own journals. I even learned coptic stitching so I could bind the papers together. Me, who hardly knows how to sew on a button. But I was drawn to coptic stitching due to its lovely, organic look and pages stitched together lie flat, so it's easier to fill them up without cramping into the margins.

Blogging is has become a natural extension of the diary. An unusual phenomenon that grew from the social media movement. Blogs have become cyber journals. They arch from political to personal. I would define mine as a goulash of information; social activism, art and biographical. 

On these cyber pages we are connecting with friends, family, acquaintances and also, total strangers. So how personal do you get? How much of your soul do you really reveal? How much do you want to reveal? How much should you reveal?

I believe there are three types of journals; the public blog, the journal or diary you write in with abandon, completely uncensored, pencil flying across the pages, recording your woes, your angers, your loves, your disappointments, your joys, because you believe no one will ever read those pages until after you're gone, and maybe not even then.

But where do we write our deepest, darkest secrets? I believe those are written on our hearts.

Gettin' The Joy Gene Back On

Out Of The Shadows

 Acrylic Collage

11" x 14"

I received an email from  a fellow artist  saying she was going through a creative withdrawal, wondering if her work was "good enough". I responded, "Is it in the air?" 

As flippant as this sounds, it made me reflect because I was also in a creative funk and emotionally detached. Where was this coming from and why?

 These feelings never just arrive, they sneak up and insidiously slither into your conscious.   It's not like flipping a switch from light to dark. It's more like going from clarity to fog, gradually realizing the landscape of your life is becoming more obscure. 

I began to think about what has been happening over the past months and
I realized the holidays were the catalyst. Christmas has always been a happy time for me, until this past  year. I just couldn't find the joy, which depressed me.  

Then I watched a  TED talk by psychologist Shawn Achor,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLJsdqxnZb0. 

This was the beginning of the healing.

For twelve insightful and funny minutes, he talked about how happiness leads to better productivity and, more importantly, how to get back to your natural, joyous state. 

He helped me remember, you don't find joy, you are the joy.

In my soul, I know this. And yet, because I am human, occasionally, I question my inner spiritual scout and stumble down an imposter's path. 

Perhaps this needs to happen. Perhaps we occasionally need to dig deep into the dungeons of our minds and excavate our emotional history, questioning it under the microscope of our sentient intelligence. Perhaps this is where the nebula of our future growth is born?

 Oasis

9 x 12

Mixed Media

Definition of a soul: a quintessential human organ whose purpose is to create meaning.

Dr. Seuss's definition of the authentic self:

Be who you are and say what you mean

because those that mind 

don't matter

and those that matter, 

don't mind.

 

Ethical Eating

I made a resolution on the eve of the beginning of 2013, only I didn't realize I had made it until now, which is probably why, out of the thousands I have made, this one stuck.

The resolution was to no longer eat meat. That was a conscious choice, not really a resolution. The part of the resolution that dawned on me while having a conversation with my mom last night, was the crusade to eat ethically.

What I have learned over the past year by reading books like John Robbins; The Food Revolution; not everything that makes it on our plates had a happy life before it ended between our forks and knives. 

I understand some people will always eat meat. As my husband, a carnivore, has said many times, "We didn't design the system. Everything on this planet is consumed at the expense of something else. Be it plant or animal." True.

But we can decide to buy a steak from a happy cow, that got to live it's life naturally, grazing and contently munching on the fields instead of a cow that is born in a pen, and tied there for it's entire life until it's led or in many cases, pushed and kicked, into the slaughter house.

So now we ask the butchers where they get their meat. And we read the labels on the egg cartons and dairy products, and even though they cost more, eating organic, farm raised, truly free range meat and eggs, feeds our souls in an intangible way.

So I am happy to share that I recently found free range eggs at Whole Foods Market.

Vital Pasture Raised Eggs

 

 

 

 

 

Free to be

Out For The Day

The freedom to be. The freedom to roam, to explore, to enjoy, is the oxygen of creativity. Physically and mentally, this need is the dream dimension where newness is born. Like the birth place of the stars, we all need to nurture our nebula. Our intersellar cloud of ideas.

Every once in awhile, life offers a profound link to something special. I recently came across a unique and beautiful person, Katherine Dunne. She wrote a small treasure of a book, Misfits of Love,

about her brood of animals, rescued from different places, and retired to her sanctuary, Apifera Farm. The book is filled with these lovable characters who finally have a safe place to roam, to explore, to be nutured and to nuture in return.  Katherine is one of those miracles that comes along in life and helps reset our reality as to what really matters; that success and richness have nothing to do with status or money, they have to do with empathy, love and kindness.To learn more about Katherine's work and her brood of misfits please follow this link and experience richness which will fill your heart with love, compassion and joy; http://www.apiferafarm.blogspot.com/

Love Heals

Graffiti Buddha

Have you ever had a dream within a dream? You're awake, barely, and you witness a scene and as you're drifting back down into sleep, somewhere a voice, yours I imagine, tells you, you were asleep, dreaming you were awake and for a split moment, you are awake, realizing you woke to a dream within a dream. 

 

Scientist now believe there are 11 dimensions, going on simultaneously, from the experience above, I felt I was living in three of those dimensions for just a moment.

 

If you were to ask an animal, "What time is it?" They would answer, "Now." They live in all 11 dimensions, at once. We, humans, somehow have gotten severed from the "moment". 

 

If you've been reading my recent posts, which I hope you have, you know I am on a journey to find ways to become a more responsible and educated steward. In John Robbins book, No Happy Cows, he listed a resource where you can find truly cage free,fully beaked, happy hens,that lay delicious, healthy, eggs,  www.localharvest.org. On this site you will find local farmers and co-ops,  where you can buy healthy, non-toxic food. And become a part of your local farm community.

 

http://www.humanesociety.org/issues/confinement_farm/facts/guide_egg_labels.html#.UqWiJeKvwxw 

Here is a link where you can take action. On this page you can urge your local U.S. Representatives and State Senators to cosponsor and support The Egg Products Inspection Act Amendments S. 820/H.R. 1731. The page includes the phone numbers of your representatives and senators, a letter you can sign and a script you can use when you call. It's so easy, and yet so powerful, because, one by one, we become many, and many become heard, and action occurs. 

We can speak for those who can not. Through our concern and love, we can heal.

Toothless Tiger

Holy Cow

I don't cry often, but yesterday morning, while reading The Food Revolution, by John Robbins, I could not stop the tears from forming and spilling down my face. A waterfall of sadness and anger.

One of the best things modern animal agriculture has going for it is that most people...haven't a clue how animals are raised and processed...If most urban meat-eaters were to visit an industrial broiler house, to see how the birds are raised, and could see the birds being "harvested" and then processed in a poultry processing plant, some, perhaps many of them, would swear off eating chicken and perhaps all meat. For modern animal agriculture, the less the consumer knows about what's happening before the meat hits the plate, the better.   Peter R. Cheeke, Professor of Animal Science, Oregon State University; Editorial Board Member, Journal of Animal Science.

 Is this how we want to get our nourishment? By the unethical, horrific, completely inhumane treatment of cows, baby cows, chickens, pigs, turkeys, goats, lambs and any other animal we farm for food. 

I read these books and am devastatingly astonished that we allow this behavior. I realize most of the population doesn't know what is going on and the meat and dairy councils want to keep it that way. That's why they show us pleasing pictures of "happy cows" and beautiful people with milk mustaches and warm family scenes of dinner where meat is the main event. If we knew the true horror these animals are subjected to we ALL would never allow another morsel of animal flesh to pass our lips.

Certified organic, humane treatment, grass fed, free range, are meaningless advertising adjectives that are put on the labels to make us "think" what we are about to eat went to its death willingly, peacefully and benignly. In reality, most of the meat in the grocery stores, which were sentient animasl before going to the slaughterhouse, lived in animal concentration camps.

Europe has already outlawed many of the inhumane practices U.S. farm factories practice. Our FDA is a toothless tiger. Influenced by the moneyed lobbyist for the meat and dairy council, they won't pass stricter laws (because it would increase the cost of meat to the consumer, which a pile of cow manure), they don't demand third party auditing for those farms which "swear" they are treating the animals ethically. Most factory farms are self audited.And the laws on the books are weak and almost never enforced.

 Do we really believe putting ammonia in the hamburger (pink sludge) is good for us?
Wonder why we have so many hamburger and chicken recalls?Why so many people are getting sick with salmonella and E.coli? It's because these gentle, beautiful creatures are kept in filthy, dank, highly stressful environments. Our country's food business is killing us, slowly, bite by bite.

We can no longer remain ignorant of what is happening around us. Thankfully there are books like Robbins The Food Revolution

These are hard books to read. They shed a light on a very dark corner of our humanity. But read we must, weep we will, then action and change will happen.

Art Transcends

The Architecture Of The Quilt

A few days ago I was at the home of a  friend who is an art consultant and curator, so her walls are a mosaic of beautiful paintings arcing from representational to surreal and abstract. 

This morning I woke to the image of her home, filled with all that creative energy and it made me think how art transcends.

Next spring I'll be taking an 8-day intensive studies seminar in Taos, NM (magical, I hear). One of the early assignments is to look at art  and begin cataloging what I like and don't like.

This has heightened my awareness of the art around me and one category that inspires me is quilts, especially the Quilts of Gee's Bend.

Gee's Bend, is an isolated area in Alabama, once a cotton plantation, owned by Joseph Gee, where slaves lived and their descendents still live today. Reading about the Quilts of Gees Bend (there are several beautiful books on the subject) I learned how and why quilts became to be. One practical, one artistic.

As part of her wedding trousseau, the soon to be bride was supposed to make a blanket which would keep her and her husband warm. To make their blankets, they used their worn out clothing. Here's where it gets beautiful.

 Slave owners did not allow artistic expression from their slaves. So the slaves used their discarded bits and pieces of cloth to express themselves. And because most slave owners didn't look beyond their blind belief that these people were less than human, they never saw the beauty they were creating.

In the twisted realm of slavery, for a slave owner to justify their treatment of slaves, he/she couldn't allow that person to also have a  spirit capable of creative expression. In fact, in many households, artistic expression was a punishable offense.

One of the most famous folk hymns, Amazing Grace, became the lyrical anthem against slavery. It was written by a former slave runner, English poet and clergyman, John Newton, after he had an epiphany on a ship during a storm, which was carrying slaves.  On the brink of drowning, he realized how inhumanly awful his occupation was. 

The music is haunting and the words are a testament to the creative power of the human soul to transcend darkness and be lifted into the light.

Amazing grace! (how sweet the sound)

That sav'd a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

 

Morning Muse

Morning Meditation

 

 

Something odd and wonderful has been happening. Several mornings ago, somewhere between dream and reality, I heard a distinctive voice say;

Grief!

Can't wait.

Not here.

Must go.

Waking up to a haiku is pretty special, even though the message did leave me with a sense of loss. 

 

Then today, at the wee hour of 3 am, I woke to this poem;

I am a paradox.

I am a conundrum.

I am not unusual,

           but I am unique.

I am a human,

 being.

I got up, made coffee, grabbed my journal and started to write. 

 

With so much time on my hands, I  finished reading The Mixed Media Artist by Seth Apter. Among the pages I saw some of my favorite artists; Geoffrey Gorman, Jeane Myers, Crystal Neubauer and Laura Lein-Svencner.

In the section, Beyond the Surface, Seth asked the artists in-depth questions regarding their inspirations and philosophies. I found that part most interesting. Of course the book is full of wonderful art, great tips and techniques. Each artist has a two page spread, with the artist in their studio and a featured work of art. They  also share their most inspiring art quote, 4 things in their studio and 3 things that inspire them (only 3!).

So I asked myself, what inspires me and I couldn't just think of 3, so I made 10 categories, with 3 inspirations per category. That was a lot of fun, and I could have gone beyond 10, but I stopped and took that creativity into my studio where I was able to get a couple of hours in before heading out to yoga.

Here are a few of my categories:

Category #1

* My eyes, they allow me to see the beauty around me.

* My feet, they carry me near and far.

* My spirit, which leads me to that mysterious place where creation and creativity reside.

Category # 3

* Love

* Touch

* Kindness

Category #6

* Baking bread

* Cooking

* Eating

I believe in engaging all my senses. They were given to us to explore, love and learn from.

Namaste.

An Authentic Artist

Louise Nevelson

If there have been complications

in my life,

the work was not

the complication;

the complication was

the world and its blindness

As artists, if we could always live and create with that phrase rumbling about in our minds, we would stop judging our efforts and begin to allow the flow of creativity to course through our bodies and express itself onto the surface of our choosing.

I recently bought three books which I hope will help me mature my creative vision:

 Nevelson, The way I think is collage;  

The Art of Collage, Contemporary Collage in Modern Art

Robert Motherwell, Early Collages

So far, I have only been through Nevelson's book which includes more than 30 years of her collages and incredibly fluid sculptures.  The book is scattered with her thoughts, this one particularly resonated with me:

You don't necessarily have to take a pencil or a pen or something and draw. There are many ways. Let's say collage. By using it meant that it already gives me my drawing. Because the nails and the holes in the nails, and all the different things. What would you say when a car goes over a piece of wood and it comes out with all sorts of things, dents and things in it? Well those are drawings. It is much more direct, doing it the way I do it, it's immediate, it's true and it's there.

Nevelson was born in Russia in 1899 and passed in 1988 in New York. She left a legacy for us to learn from.

It's Time to Stop Giving Time

Alchemy

Oil & Cold Wax with Collage

11 x 14 inches

Blame it on Netflix. We got hooked on, Orange Is The New Black, a new series about a young woman's year in prison. After we watched the last episode of the first season, I couldn't wait for season two, so I bought the book, which is a memoir written by Piper Kerman about her 13 months spent in Danbury minimum security prison.

 

I just finished her memoir this week and what impressed me, along with her story, was the appalling state of our penal system. It's a complete failure. It's an embarrassment. It's a travesty against human rights. Imagine, in 1980, 500,000 people where in prison. Twenty eight years later, 2008, there were 2.3 million people in prison , 7 million on parole, or probation or locked up.(2008 U.S. Bureau of Justice) Many of them for non-violent crimes. 

Today, we jail a higher percentage of our citizens than any other country, including China and Iran. And the price tag, about $80 billion a year.

How did this happen? Mandatory sentencing.  It began 40 years ago, in New York, because of a rapidly growing heroin problem. Republican Gov. Nelson Rockfeller created mandatory minimum sentences of 15 years to life for anyone caught with just 4 ounces of narcotics. Quickly other states followed suit, all wanting to appear tough on drugs. 

The war against drugs. Here's the problem, it's not working. The casualty count is enormous. Families torn apart, children left motherless, fatherless, disappearing into the void of child welfare, foster homes, group homes, ready to repeat the journey of their parents. The people in jail are mostly the users and the system isn't set up to rehabilitate, it's set up to de-humanize and punish. Over crowded, under educated, malnourished. That's our penal system.

Kerman has taken her experience and along with writing an interesting memoir, has chosen this journey as an educational platform to teach us what is really going on behind those bars and how hard it is for the majority of inmates to have the opportunity to learn from their mistakes and return to the outside ready to be embraced by society and make a meaningful contribution. No wonder the rate of recidivism is so high.