Life as an Artist

PVAC Closing Reception

3 from the Portals of Joy Series (showing in the PVAC Exhibit)

3 from the Portals of Joy Series (showing in the PVAC Exhibit)

The Members Exhibit of the Pajaro Valley Arts Center closes this Sunday, March 21st. So, there are a few more days to view the work online. To view the slide show of over 100 pieces of wonderful local artwork, CLICK HERE.

And there will be a Closing Reception via Zoom on Sunday, March 21st at 2pm Pacific Time. You are invited to attend. To access more information and the Zoom link, CLICK HERE.

A Process Story

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

“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

“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

“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

“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

“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

“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

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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.

2020 Reframed

“2020 Reframed" 24" x 24" Acrylic, cloth, papers, strings, and threads on canvas.

“2020 Reframed” has been accepted into the MAH’s upcoming exhibit.

Exhibit: In These Uncertain Times
at the Santa Cruz Museum of Art and History (MAH)
beginning on January 15, 2021

2020 is no ordinary year… filled with layers of challenges and unlike any we’ve experienced. Early in the year, I started to notice an unusual presence of RE-WORDS showing up in my life and in the world around me. I am referring to an abundance of words beginning with the letters RE. (Retreat, rediscover, recreate, reinvent, recover...) It’s been a year in which we’ve all had reasons to RE-vise our plans, RE-assess our priorities, and RE-define our lives. We have waited for businesses to RE-open and wondered if and when we might RE-turn to “normal.”

"2020 Reframed” in process

Back in May, I created a RE-WORDS concertina sketchbook, an eight page book built to highlight these words. Once it was completed, I felt a strong need to continue working on this project, but in a larger format. So I printed my collection of re-words in different fonts and sizes and began constructing a painting. “2020 Reframed” is loaded with words appearing on layers and strips of raw canvas. The prepared layers have been stitched together and are sewn onto a 24” x 24” stretched canvas. The loose threads and textures further represent a time in which our personal and societal threads have been laid bare.

Here are some details of the completed painting:

AND not long after the completion of this painting, a new word emerged: RE-population. It’s used when fire evacuees are returned to their homes. (Luckier than many, we are very thankful to have had a home to return to.)

My Interview: Turning Point Project

Back in February (when our world was so much different than it has become), I had the joy and privilege of sharing my turning point story with the fabulous Helen Rebello on the Turning Point Project podcast. And I’m excited to share that the interview is available to listen to! In this episode, I talk about the turning points that helped shape my life journey and how these steps set a new course within me, within my art, and within my creative expression. I'd love you to listen in and let me know what personal insights it sparks in you about your own turning points.

To listen: CLICK HERE to go directly to the interview page, and then scroll down. OR find it on one of these podcast apps... APPLE ... SPOTIFY ... STITCHER. (April 20th episode, Becoming a Blank Canvas)

And check out the many other episodes on the Turning Point Project. Helen has put together a great collection of interviews. It’s easy to see how much heart, insights, and passion she puts into her podcast and into everything she does. I feel grateful to have had the opportunity to meet her, to share our stories with one another, and to be able to reflect on the many turning points in my life.

Hearts in the Art

“Love Sound” 6” x 6” mixed media on canvas. (Available through the Hearts for the Arts fundraiser.)

“Love Sound” 6” x 6” mixed media on canvas. (Available through the Hearts for the Arts fundraiser.)

“Love Sound” in process.

“Love Sound” in process.

As young children, we are introduced to the shape of the heart. It is recognized throughout the world as a symbol for love. I’m not normally one who paints hearts or adds the heart shape in my artwork. But… somehow, in the past couple of months I have produced two paintings with cloth hearts sewn into the design. Now that Valentine’s Day is only days away, I thought I would share them here.

Both paintings are part of the series of Ancient Wisdom Minis, designed around a quote from Kabir that includes a heart reference. (Kabir was a 15th century poet and mystic.) The canvases in the series are small (6” x 6”) acrylic paintings featuring words of wisdom from the past. The first step in the process is to cut, fray, and prepare the raw canvas that will create texture and form the focal point for the painting.

“Lift the Veil” 6” x 6” mixed media on canvas. SOLD

“Lift the Veil” 6” x 6” mixed media on canvas. SOLD

“Love Sound” is currently part of the Hearts for the Arts fundraiser being held at Artisans Gallery, in downtown Santa Cruz (details below). It displays the following quote: “The flute of the infinite is played without ceasing, and it’s sound is love.” ~Kabir.

“Lift the Veil” features these words: “Lift the veil that obscures the heart, and there you will find what you are looking for.” ~Kabir

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The 2020 Hearts for the Arts fundraiser benefits the Santa Cruz Arts Council’s arts education programs (SPECTRA and Mariposa Arts). The donated works are currently on display at Artisans as part of a silent auction for the first 13 days in February (bidding begins on February 1st and closes on February 13th).

For those in the area: The auction will be part of the First Friday Art Tour on February 7th and the Arts Council will host an Artists’ Reception from 3-5 on Sunday, February 9th.

I plan to be there on Sunday. Maybe I’ll see you there!!

Painting Doesn’t Take a Holiday

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

"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" 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.

"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.

Not Every Week is About Painting

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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.

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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

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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

“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

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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.

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.

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

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

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