Art: A Divine Connection

Mixed Media Painting in Process

Early this morning, I found myself writing much of this as I worked on a small painting on paper. This was my experience…

Art is a form of prayer. It is a profound connection to a greater sense of love, Divine Love. Through art, we tap into an expansive love that transcends boundaries and connects us to our deepest spiritual essence. It is a dialogue between ourselves, the piece we are working on, and the Divine.

I am never alone in the creative process. There is an open communication with spirit guidance and a trust in the flow of inspiration that comes through. This connection feeds my soul and fills me with a remarkable energy that fills me up and permeates the space that surrounds me.

When I align myself with this understanding, barriers to communication dissolve, and guidance flows more effortlessly. I begin to vibrate with the energy that is filling me up, an energy of love and oneness. Tears of gratitude flow as I am carried on a wave of creative momentum.

Creating art is an opportunity to be fully present in the moment. It allows us to immerse ourselves in the work before us, leaving behind thoughts of the past or worries about the future. Each brushstroke or pen stroke becomes an act of mindfulness, grounding us in the here and now. In this moment, we become both the creator and the Created, experiencing the power of creation firsthand.

The opportunity to create and to connect with Divine Love through art, is something to cherish. May your creative endeavors be filled with gratitude and serve as a gateway to deeper self-expression and spiritual growth.

What Would You Do Differently?

When you look back on your life, what one thing would you do differently? What comes to mind? I recently saw this question posed somewhere and when I pondered my response, I had my art career in mind. I immediately thought of the time, many years ago, when I bought way TOO MANY frames. And spent a ridiculous amount of money. 

It was sometime around the early 1990’s. I was producing quite a lot of art and it seemed like a good idea to begin buying frames. At the time, I lived on Long Island, New York, and there was a wholesale frame manufacturer that I could drive to in Queens. It wasn’t a terrible trek but something of a schlep.

So I began buying frames and attaching them to my completed work. I felt so very professional as I took those journeys to Queens. At some point, I decided to buy a quantity of frames in a variety of painting sizes so I wouldn’t have to make as many trips. It was not a feasible financial decision. Not at all. I spent way too much money and then had less need for the sizes and style I had purchased. In fact, all these years later, I still have too many of those metal frames hanging around the studio.

For years, I felt a sting when remembering that purchase. It’s probably one of the reasons I shy away from any real framing. I love the gallery wrapped canvases because I can paint the sides and avoid the framing. And if I really feel the need to frame a painting, I usually resort to the simple method I learned in High School… cutting wooden slats, sanding the ends, and nailing them to the stretched canvas.

It’s easy to look at a decision like that from my current vantage point and want to have chosen differently. But honestly, if I had it to do over again, I might end up doing the same exact thing (at that time). I remember my thought process back then and it seemed to be such a good decision.

What comes to mind when you think of one thing you would want to do differently?

Art-Full Gratitude

My days are filled with gratitude. Gratitude is a big part of every day, whether I’m spending my time in the studio or out. Recently, I decided to go on a gratitude rant about my life as an artist and generate a list of many of the reasons I feel so very thankful. I’m sharing 30 of those here today.

1. Thankful for the exhilarating joy and wonder in the amazing gift of being an artist in this lifetime.

2. So very grateful to have my own studio… a designated place to create.

3. So appreciate that I can leave the studio as it is, with anything in process at the end of the day and not have to clean it up.

4. Thankful for the art materials and supplies that surround me, accessible for my use at any moment.

5. Thankful that I saved some materials, years ago, that can now be used today.

6. Thankful for all the storage space to store all these materials.

7. Thankful for that “mistake” on the canvas that has led me to creating something I never would have created without that wonderful “blunder.”

8. Thankful for feeling this joy and delight in the process of creating.

9. Thankful for the gift of having the time to create.

10. Grateful for the clarity of how to proceed with any painting I’m currently working on.

11. Grateful for the continuous flow of ideas that light me up and call to me.

12. Grateful for the experience of being in the creative flow.

13. Thankful for the images that come to mind of a new painting to create

14. Thrilled and thankful for the idea of a new way to use the cloth in a painting… one that I had not thought of before.

15. So thankful for the funds to buy the paints and canvases I use in my paintings and to be able to replenish whatever I have used.

16. Gratitude for having mixed up yummy and luscious paint colors.

17. Thankful for the feeling I get just by walking into my studio, even before beginning to create.

18. Thankful for all the creativity that happens in my mind when I’m away from the studio.

19. Thankful for the tremendous world of inspiration that occurs anywhere and everywhere.

20. Thankful for the immense feeling of love that fills me up when I’m creating.

21. Thankful for the vibration of energy I feel throughout my arms as I write about my gratitude for all these creative gifts. 

22. Grateful for my hands and my ability to create through the use of my wonderful hands and fingers.

23. Grateful for the opportunities I have to show my work.

24. Grateful for the beautiful people that show up for the events when I am sharing my art and process.

25. Thankful for those who connect with my art and appreciate what I have created.

26. Grateful for those who choose to give one or more of my works a place in their homes and their hearts, or to give my work as a gift to another.

27. So thankful for the feeling of love that is present (between me and a buyer) when my art is purchased.

28. Thankful to still feel so good about the work I did years ago… even after much time has passed.

29. Grateful for the love and support I receive from my family around my work as an artist and for me being me.

30. And… always grateful for another day to create.

What are you grateful for in your life? Want to do your own gratitude rant? Let me know if you do. It’s an activity that leaves you feeling so very good!

Pondering Change

If we are always changing, why do we hold onto the expectations we held in the past? 

As an artist, it’s quite common to get to a point in working on a piece of artwork where it feels like the process is no longer flowing. The creative flow has ceased and its time to step aside. There’s reason to feel confident that when returning to it the next day or at some point in the future, with “fresh eyes,” a new flow will be generated.

It is my premise that we can see our work from a new perspective not just because we have given the creative process some space to incubate, but because we have changed (even if only slightly). We are constantly changing and evolving all the time, with new input from the world around us, new experiences, new inspirations, and influences.

It becomes quite clear to me that this is true when I shelve a painting for a longer period of time, maybe a few weeks or a few months. It’s harder to merge who and where I am now with what I had in mind at that time. I have changed. My perspectives on my life and art have been altered through the many moments of my life since I began the painting. I have been shaped and reshaped through time. When I look at this, I wonder why do we hold onto what we believed and wanted yesterday?

How can we not update our goals and aspirations on a regular basis. When we hold onto the expectations of the past, what are we denying in the present? What possibilities are we missing out on? And what do we miss out on when we continually focus on and cling to the past?

Art Podcast Interviews

Recently, I was a guest on two different art podcasts. Here, you will find a bit of information on each, along with links to access the interviews.

PODCAST: BEHIND THE ART INSPIRATION PODCAST
EPISODE: MAY 4, 2023

I had a thoroughly enjoyable experience, connecting with Caroline Karp on the Behind the Art Inspiration Podcast. This 20 minute episode began with a focus on my chapter in the Amazon best seller, The Creative Lifebook. I shared some of the background behind the process I wrote about, “Charting a New Path,” in my section of the book.

You have a choice of listening to our conversation on Spotify or watching it on YouTube. I feel like we covered a lot of ground in these 20 minutes.

PODCAST: ART infused Life PODCAST
EPISODE: 14

It was a joy to chat with Dawn Bove and Lynn Mazzoleni for the Art Infused Life Podcast. During this hour long conversation, I shared many details about my painting process, what inspires me, and how I get the ideas and concepts that make their way onto the canvas.

You can listen to the full chat, (Episode 14) on Spotify and Apple podcasts. In case you need to know the date the episode became available, it was on April 20th.

Dancing as Process

Reorganized studio gave me more space to dance!

Dancing had always been a part of my painting process… turning up the music, moving my body and flowing with paint on canvas… that was my process for years. But for the past few years dancing has been a thing of memories. Maybe it was effected by grief from loss of loved ones and then came Covid?

Painting, Music, and Joy… Gotta Dance!!

But as I write this, the music is up loud, there’s paint on my brush, and joy is welling up inside of me. And there’s nothing else to do but dance! Once again, this cherished part of my creative process is back in my life and present in the studio. I love the energy and flow that’s created when my whole body is engaged and I’m so happy to be reacquainted with the joy it brings me.

Earlier this summer, I spent time reorganizing the studio, with the goal of opening up the space. Not only did I get the space I was craving, but now there’s more space to dance while I paint. Yahoo!! And I feel like the external space has helped create more space within… more room for the light to shine.

Art as Meditation

A couple of years ago, I saw a thread of conversation between artists on instagram on the subject of meditation. Most of the comments were in the same vain… they spoke about having trouble meditating and the inability to get a meditation practice going, stating one reason or another. I didn’t engage in the conversation at the time but it seemed clear they had a limited idea of what meditation could be.

As a long time meditator, my initial thought was that creating art in itself is, or could be, a form of meditation. Many meditation practices involve following the breath in order to bring you into the present moment while observing and letting go of thoughts as they arise. Those thoughts generally tend to carry you on a visit to the past or a journey into the future.

But when we create art we are doing so in the moment. With every brush stroke, every choice of color, texture, and use of materials, we are in the present moment. You often hear that the big gifts can be found in the process, rather than the end results or finished product. When we focus on the process we are in the now and it’s in the now that we find our joy and delight as artists. It’s not the finished artwork that keeps drawing us back to the creative process, it’s the act of creating that keeps artists engaged.

The process of creating art is an experience in the moment. So, in effect, it can easily be a meditative practice. In every part of that process, we have a choice of being fully present with our materials, breathing into the experience, and letting go of the world outside our studio space. Each moment of the art process is a gift and opportunity to be present with our developing creations, to observe the feelings that arise with each stage of that development, whether it be joy and delight, or frustration and angst.

When we experience the messy middle, it’s likely that our minds have wandered away from the here and now and carried us to thoughts or concerns of the finished piece. We may want to hold onto a part, or all, of what we’ve accomplished so far, without messing it up. Although that can take us out of the moment, being present with those feelings and observing our flow of thoughts, without getting caught in them, can become part of our process. This offers us greater awareness of how we internally process our creative flow.

Back in the 1980’s I did a full week intensive class in meditation. We were taught to focus on our breath. When thoughts came into mind, to label them “thinking,” letting them go, and then returning to the breath. In any given moment, an artist can shift from wherever the mind has wandered to being with their creation in the now. It is a dance we can have with our tools and materials, shifting back to the current brushstroke, or pencil mark, ink splatter, sculpted element, etc. Art can so easily be your meditation practice. And many are already engaged in that practice whether they have labeled it so, or not.

You may also be interested in: Morning Meditation Paintings
or Meditation on Rain

A Process Story

“Ennobled” 12” x 12” acrylic, papers, pencil on canvas

The experience of working on “Ennobled,” the 5th canvas in the Portals of Joy series, was a bit like maneuvering a boulder up an incline. All the while, I was able to experience these challenges with confidence and determination. It became an excellent exercise in creating and recreating, making changes, letting go and moving on.

“Ennobled” in process; initial color palette

I began the painting with a color palette that I found attractive but, it just wasn’t quite me. Once on the canvas it seemed goofy, like a Halloween candy wrapper. So I kept altering colors, one at a time, and adding textured papers to cover up some of the colors and create new ones. I found the process enjoyable, without frustration. I was able to draw on my confidence that each alteration would bring me closer to feeling as if I had made it my own. What a time consuming process it was! If I hadn’t been as focused on the unfolding experience of the process, I would not have been able to remain in the joy of creating.

“Ennobled” in process; at the start

Occasionally, a painting doesn’t flow as smoothly. Each time I find myself in that space, I have the gift of letting go and immersing myself in the painting process. I allow it to take as long as it takes, with no expectations and the willingness to continue to apply layer over layer, repainting areas one moment at a time. And with each alteration, I come closer to an image that will look back at me and say, “Ahhh… this is it.”

“Integral Flow” 12” x 12” acrylic, papers, pencil on canvas

Once I had completed “Ennobled", I shifted my focus to the newly started 6th painting in the Portals of Joy series, titled “Integral Flow.” The experience of painting this one was nothing like the last one. The process flowed easily from beginning to end. Of course, I chose a color palette I was comfortable with from the start. And maybe that attributed to the feeling of lightness that surrounded the painting process.

I experienced joy as I created both of these two paintings but that experience was so very different… neither better than the other. And I am grateful for the wonderful diversity of both.

You may be interested in a recent post: New Series: Portals of Joy

Turning Points

“Silhouessence - Vista” 14” x 18” Oils and recessed photo on canvas and board, 2005

Last year during the 21 Days in My Art World challenge we were asked to share a Turning Point in our art life. I wrote the following:

How I became a blank canvas and birthed a new series…
I entered 2016 with the feeling of unlimited possibilities and the ability to create what I wanted... But first I had to figure out what that was. And it seemed, the best way to start was to clear out my inner closet of the creative ideas I'd been storing for years. During several days at home alone, I released all the creative projects, ideas, and expectations I was carrying around by brainstorming them onto the large newsprint sheets I had hung all over the living room... each sheet for a different category. I also had lists of successes and achievements, affirmations and more. That experience opened the door to new influences, experiences, and finding the yards of raw canvas I had bought and stored years before. It all came together for the creation of the Transcriptions series and a new way of working and creating. I am so grateful for those days back in February 2016.

But thoughts on the subject didn’t end with that challenge prompt… Shortly after, I had the good fortune of connecting with Helen Rebello who welcomed me to be a guest on her Turning Points Project podcast. That got me thinking of the many Turning Points in my life and the effects they have had on the trajectory of my art and life.

This week, as part of the current 21 Day challenge, I am sharing another Turning Point. I’ve chosen to write about the one that was probably the most difficult for me. One that many of you already know… the point in which I needed to give up oil painting after a decade’s long love affair with those luscious paints.

“Silhouessence - Vista” detail of recessed photo

In 2005, while preparing for the annual Santa Cruz County Open Studio Tour, it became increasingly difficult for me to breathe while working on a new series of paintings. I was in the process of developing the Silhouessence series, in which each painting displayed a photo of a silhouetted landscape recessed within the surface of the canvas. The outer painting became a reflection of the photo within. As I worked on them, my ability to breathe became more and more impacted. I tried moving from the studio into the dining room where I could open the windows in all four directions. That didn’t help and I began to feel sick. I was determined to finish the paintings, so I then moved the process outdoors and quickly learned that spending any more than twenty minutes at a time left me in bad shape. Of course, I was determined to get to a point where the paintings could look complete (and be photographed) even if I knew they were unfinished. I achieved my goal but the process left me physically recuperating for weeks, and emotionally processing the loss of oils for years. I had become a painter who could no longer paint.

Although I thoroughly disliked acrylics, eventually I gave in and began to play with soft body acrylics. I needed something I was passionate about to inspire a new series. Music was the key (pun intended). And it was with the Music Series that I got back into painting. I had fun with the series even though the acrylics were not as lovely to use as oils. But they did inspire a brighter and bolder palette.

Then later on, with the Transcriptions Series, I finally returned home to the feeling of flow, energy, and love for painting that I used to have years ago. And as a gift to my soul, I began finishing off an occasional painting by using oil pastels for the last touch of color.

Now I am enjoying the playful use of acrylics and mixed media on paper and on canvas. I’ve found a whole new level of joy in exploring new ideas on sketchbook pages with the paints. And I’m delighted when I find myself using similar techniques with the acrylics that I used years ago in my oil painting days.

The gift of gratitude: I’m sure that without the loss of oils, I never would have published The Gratitude Habit journals. I so appreciate the experience of producing these two books and the lessons learned along the way. It allowed me to take an idea and bring it to life in a manner so very different than with a painting and so much more public.

Life offers up twists and turns, bumps and jumps that alter our trajectory and become Turning Points in our lives. They take us to places we might not have travelled and open the door to lessons and new experiences that can enrich our journey. You may want to reflect on the Turning Points in your own life.

Working in a Series

I love to work in a series, to watch an idea or concept develop from one painting to the next as I explore the variations on a theme. It gives me a creative focus in which to grow my artwork and myself.

Not only do I find a theme to develop throughout the series, but I begin with a framework or recipe of elements that becomes the foundation for each of the pieces. As a series evolves, an organic process unfolds, with each painting being a stepping stone to the next as I explore new ways of expressing the blueprint they have in common.

Ancient Wisdom Minis - in process

The chosen focus needs to be something I want to immerse myself in and wish to elevate. In the Transcriptions series, it was ancient books and prayers. The Ancient Wisdom Minis, highlighted the words of Kabir, poet and mystic. The Windowframes series was a reflection of the beauty in aging. And now, the Portals of Joy series allows me to spend my days focused on shape and color as I elevate joy in a world that could use more joyful expressions.

Painting Doesn’t Take a Holiday

"Effervescence" 20" x 20" acrylic mixed media on canvas.

Tomorrow is the first day of February and I am spending time today, reflecting on the experience of painting during Thanksgiving week. Somehow I managed to shop, cook, entertain, and still complete a painting while also preparing for a studio show just one week later. On that Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving Day, I was busy in the kitchen preparing food for a small family feast. But while the veggies were sauteing and in between cooking the various dishes, I was in the studio adding paint to my latest creation. I managed to embed studio time in a day focused on cooking. By the end of the day, I felt nearer to actually being able to complete the painting I had begun more than a year before. Then, while other people spent Black Friday shopping, I was able to work on and finish up that painting.

"Effervescence" in process. Sewing the painted cloth onto the stretched canvas.

“Effervescence” was inspired by a vision I had of the mist created when opening up a bottle of carbonated water. Each mist particle represented one of us and we were all connected in this sea of bubbles, swirling around one another, playing our role in the whole of our shared existence. We were one, together, rather than individuals, separate from the whole.

I began working on “Effervescence” in the fall of 2018, almost immediately after the concept took shape in my mind. But soon after I painted the two cloth layers, I put it aside with too many ideas on how it might be developed. Over a year later, a friend encouraged me to return to the painting. And I’m so glad she did. It was only then that I had the idea for the background to mimic the cutouts in the top cloth. So I got busy cutting holes in paper before adhering the paper to the back canvas. That’s when I was finally able to move the painting forward towards completion.

"Effervescence" in process after adding the cut paper to the stretched canvas background.

I added the finishing touches with a quote from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe... "In nature we never see anything isolated, but everything in connection with something else which is before it, beside it, under it, and over it."

“Effervescence” and I took a journey together and I embrace the bond developed in the process. A relationship is created between the artist and his/her creation. When I’m working on a painting, it’s as if a dialog develops between us, with the painting sharing its needs, making suggestions, providing guidance. All I have to do is be open to listening. We spend time in the studio together. It’s a shared experience. And when a painting takes longer to complete, the opportunity is there to create a closer bond, just as in any relationship. “Effervescence” was signed and wired in time for the studio show and it was one of the first to be sold.

And…I have to just add: For an artist, any day is a day to create, whether it’s a weekend, vacation day, or even the week of a major holiday.

Becoming a Blank Canvas

I’ve been taking part in Tara Leaver’s Instagram Challenge… 21 Days in My Art World. Tomorrow is day 11 and the prompt is: Turning Point. I’ve decided to share the experience that placed me on the path of creating the Transcriptions Series. With this in mind, I thought it applicable to re-post an article I published a few years ago on the Shared Easel Newsletter. Here it is:

2016 was the year I "birthed" a new series and grew myself in the process. I believe it all began with the adventure of dismantling the old and opening the doorway to something new.

I entered the year believing it was a time of wonderful possibilities - that I could create anything I wanted and make anything happen. I had the power to create!... But the question was, "What did I want to create?"

I was determined to release any and all past creative goals and open to a new creative vision, unfettered by my prior ideas and expectations. I wanted to wipe the slate clean so I could see what I might create now. First I would need to clear away years of stuffed and stored creative project ideas. I have always had more ideas than the time and ability to create. Most have remained stored in my inner closet, occasionally reminding me they were still there. It was time to finally clear out that closet and release the old notions conceived by a no longer existing me.

Over the course of several days I converted our living room into a brainstorming space. I taped sheets of newsprint paper all over the windows, door, and furniture. With markers and pens, I generated lists of:

• old expectations and projects ideas

• creative ideas that were already begun

• my past successes and achievements

• my skills and abilities that I can draw upon in anything I choose to do moving forward

• my hopes and dreams

• positive affirmations to fuel the new

• I Am statements (examples: I Am Fearless, I Am Grateful... )

• some ideas of things I might consider getting involved in or find a passion for

• and more

"Transcriptions #1 - Lokah Samastah”
12" x 12" Mixed media on canvas.

The main goal was to make myself a blank canvas for what I might create in the year ahead (and allow new ideas and creations to unfold). I'd say it worked out pretty well and led to the development of the Transcriptions Series of paintings!

(This was originally published on April 2017 in the Shared Easel Newsletter.)

Note: In the months that followed my brainstorming days, a series of new experiences, ideas, and materials came together to form a new way of working and a new series. I ended up producing 30 paintings in that series, which has led to all the work that followed. I’m so very grateful for those days in February 2016 and going with my inner guidance to become a blank canvas at that time.

Not Every Week is About Painting

As artists, we would love to spend all our days in the studio, in creative mode. The tasks of promoting ourselves, looking at our art career as a business, and managing websites takes us away from what we would prefer to be focused on. But somehow I’ve begun to enjoy it.

This past week has been tremendously busy, highly productive, and filled with joy. It was a week of putting ideas, new and old, into action. Instead of sending an invitation for my upcoming studio show out to just locals, I decided to include additions that might be of interest to the entire mailing list. So, my focus was on developing the first Shared Easel Giveaway and setting up a new gallery of recent works that would only be available to subscribers.

To accomplish these tasks, I had to spend many, many hours of computer time and very long days (out of the studio). I was so focused on completing everything by a certain date that I kept forgetting to eat. The funny thing was, I found myself dancing around the house in joy, nonetheless. I was feeling good about my accomplishments, great about pulling off one idea after another (In some ways, not so unlike painting).

Once the invitations went out, I still needed another invitation for non-subscribers and then had to get busy ordering mats, prints, and frames to arrive in time for the show.

As I write this on Sunday morning, I am thankfully in the studio, with a bit of time to develop a few of the works in progress. The week was exhilarating but I wouldn’t want every week to replicate this type of activity. I’m ready for the opportunity to play with my paints before gearing up for the show. (Oh!! And once all of the mats, frames, and prints arrive I’ll have lots more to do!!!)

I’m so grateful to be able to experience life as an artist.

A Frustrating Day in the Studio

I don’t have too many frustrating days in the studio. I guess you can say, I am spoiled. I’m used to getting an idea and playing with it, getting into a flow and experiencing the process as the guidance comes easily and the joy of creating fills the studio. But I had a day that was unlike any other.

My first effort just didn’t come together at all! The focus was on a new way of working with canvas cloth. I was feeling excited and looking forward to waking up and exploring an idea I’ve thought about for a couple of years. This was going to be the day I finally brought it into physical form. (no great expectation there!!)

After a couple of hours of nothing happening, I moved onto a variation on the original idea (plan B). It too was a no go. I could not seem to get anything off the ground. So I let it all go and went for a whole new focus, working on paper rather than canvas. (Plan C?) But, still wrestling with the earlier goal, I soon found myself returning to try out another approach.

What a yo-yo experience!! Although I seemed to have moved the project a step forward, once again the idea had no traction. Luckily, it was time to meet a friend for a walk. That forced me to step aside and step out of the studio. In preparing to leave the house, I suddenly came up with an ideal alternative project. It became easy to drop all the plans I had for the day and turn my attention to a totally different focus.

“The Merge” - a painting in process

That night I prepared 5 canvases with cloth and was ready to begin painting the first in the series the next morning. It may have been a frustrating day but a new series was born and the steps I took and my willingness to keep trying became the stepping stones for work that will come together in the future.

On Letting Go

The concept of letting go has been in the forefront of my mind since this year began. Letting go is a process. It is likely to take place in stages rather than all at once. And it is up to us to allow or invite the process to work through us.

Doors to new experiences and discoveries can more easily open when we let go of expectations, ideas, or the replaying of our personal stories. We may find that our way of being in the world has been altered. Letting go is our way of releasing tightly held beliefs, goals, or even the hands of a loved one.

Years ago, I often visualized the letting go process based on my experiences sitting and meditating at the Esopus Creek, in Mt. Tremper, New York. I would envision myself laying in a narrow stream, holding onto a rock or log, trying to fight against the current. In doing so, all of the leaves, twigs, and debris being carried down the stream would build up against me. This added to my struggle as the increase in weight intensified my burden. But… By no longer fighting the current, I could float down the stream with ease, experiencing greater peace.

My Recent Experiences:
This year seems to be a year of letting go. On January 1st, I let go of my Dad, and the ability to ever hold his hand again. On January 8th, I watched my Mom slip away from life to join him. Throughout January, I let go of my goals and plans for the month to allow myself to begin the grieving process and be whatever I needed to be in each moment. In February, I let go of my creative expectations and embraced new ideas, changes in color palette, and a new approach to my paintings. In March, I had to let go of my parent’s belongings as I went through their home, packing their stuff to giveaway or donate. I shipped a small selection from New York to California and had to dig deep to let go when some of those things arrived damaged or destroyed.

All of this letting go, seems to be leading to new perspectives. And I must say, I am ready for these changes. I feel like I’m one of those spring blossoms about to burst open.

Now, in April, I have let go of the artwork I am accustomed to in order to create new artistic experiences. I plan to share much of this creative journey as it unfolds. In fact, since April 1st, I’ve been posting pieces of a new mini series on Instagram and on my Facebook artist page. I will also be sharing more, right here, in future blog-posts.

Managing Grief after Losing My Parents:
I am letting go of their physical presence in my life, but the rich memories, love, and growth that I experienced throughout the years remain very much alive within me. That’s what I will carry with me in each moment moving forward. I know that I am who I am because of their presence in my life.

Holding my Mom’s hand just hours before she died.

So each day, I let go of holding onto them. I let go of any need to perpetuate the grief, instead allowing the ebb and flow of emotions as they arise. (They definitely arise!) And regardless of any grief I will experience over the coming weeks, months, and years, I want to let them be fully present in whatever realm their spirits now reside. In turn, I allow myself to move into a new world of experiences, with curiosity in how the empty spaces created by their vacancy will be filled. I openly invite the changes that continue to take place.

Losing Both My Parents

My parents holding hands during one of my mom’s visits to my dad’s hospital room. The wonderful hospital staff helped make sure they visited one another every day.

Two months ago today, my dad died in a hospital room, at age 94. Exactly one week later my mom took her last breath in a similar room just a few rooms away. She would have celebrated her 90th birthday a few weeks later. After 70 years of marriage, they were still choosing to do everything together.

I’m finding that in order to move on and begin to share art related posts again on this blog, I have the need to first share this loss. The experience of watching both parents slip away was powerful and the loss is life altering. I can already see changes in the way I approach my paintings and my life. In recent weeks, I’ve needed time to hibernate and step back from “life as I knew it.” I’ve been taking one step at a time and easing myself back into the world. In writing this today, it is a step forward.

Helen and Ruby on their Wedding Day, 1949

I was so very fortunate to have both parents in my life for so many years. I so appreciate the abundance of love and support I always received from them. Their enthusiastic response, anytime we shared details of new ventures, accomplishments, possibilities, and experiences, was a continuous gift to the whole family. They made it easy and joyful to share anything and everything with them.

And how they loved each other!! I believe they lived as long as they did because of their commitment to one another. And being in their presence, you just could not help but be drawn into the vortex of love and gratitude vibrantly operating between the two of them. It’s no wonder they seemed to have fans wherever they went… and of course, they always went together.

For years, my brother and I hoped that our parents would somehow be able to leave this world at the same time or shortly after one another. We knew it would be too painful for either of them to be left behind without the other. They orchestrated their exit pretty well. They were miraculously admitted to the hospital on the very same day, for different reasons. During their final days, they were surrounded by loved ones and managed to visit one another each day. When they were able, they held hands, blew each other kisses, and continued to touch the lives of those around them.

We witnessed and experienced a whole lot in those weeks, including many precious moments. I know I will miss them deeply, but I am so glad that neither of them has to continue life without the other. Their love story continues.

What a gift it has been to have had so many years with my loving parents and to have been a witness to their love and commitment to one another!

Mom and Dad doing what they loved most - sharing a meal with their family. 2016