To Reinvent or not to Reinvent

Last week there was no post as I was off in the woods contemplating the growth of moss on the north side of large trees and thinking about my next piece of artwork.

That is not true--last week I was more in the fits of a mild depression. My birthday was fast approaching and I could garner no sense of accomplishment in my world. My grandson was heading off to school and I was wondering where the last five years had gone and why I had not done more in that period of time. Clutter overwhelms me and "dirty eating" plus a  feeling of inertia slowed me to a turtles gait and left me slouched in a lawn chair--hoping at least to get a suntan.

Since I was a young child  I have reveled in the opportunities to reinvent myself periodically. When I was little it was to be a nun (I am not catholic) and another time it was Robin Hood. As I grew up some of my reinventions became slightly more realistic.  From a war protester to a wife and mother. From a stay-at-home mom to a college student to a school teacher. So once again and with the inspiration of former lives I drag out my "clean eating" cookbooks, books of spiritual guidance, an exercise chart, my most recent "O" magazine, sunscreen and sunglasses, a refreshing herbal tea with a sprig of mint from my herb garden, my journal, a psychedelic pen, and  I began to write. I have some art events coming up so I used these to cultivate a sense of empowerment. Someone said once that you need to have just about all of your basic needs met before you can engage in creativity. Unless of course in the case of creatively dealing with survival. At a time when not all of my needs were being met my creativity turned to the darker side--but I won't go into that here. I have learned the procedure for my timely reinvention of habits.

I designed a meal plan that utilizes fresh produce from the beautiful garden in my backyard(something during  the stage my bad habits I ignore and choose instead the frozen pizza). No more sugar and processed foods, more veggies, and less meat. The exercise chart is to be filled in daily and the repetitions increased as time passes. But most of all and this is different from previous sojourns into healthy living--being in the Zen of the moment. Summertime is a great opportunity to slow down and think about taking care of myself. When I lose sight of that I suffer and then the things around me suffer. It is a very significant cause and effect system.  From reading articles in "O" magazine I think about my financial plan and my health insurance. There are articles on how to declutter--I have another plan in place. I see some cute dresses I may have to order. From my books by Deepka Chopra I remember what is truly important in life and how to take the time to search for and listen to that still small voice. Did I mention the unbelievable sunglasses in the magazine too! I write in my journal--something when I get too busy I forget to do. And as time passes I am really sorry I didn't do. The mint rosemary tea is reinvention in a glass!

The better I take care of myself, the better I am at doing just about anything and everything that is important to me. When I am healthy my art is healthy. Everyday I get better my art gets better and that is what keeps "mild fits of depression at bay" and reinvention so compelling! 

 

 

If I sit down with no immediate agenda for a painting (this is not including the hours of mental searching and decision-making) I find I treat the canvas and the paints with an attitude bordering on carelessness. I choose colors for silly reasons and I let the brushes play with the thickness of the oil, pigment, and turpentine to fashion strokes with a certain "mooshyness" to them.

This carelessness evolves into better paintings on many occasions. Here is one such....a gift for my grandson's first day of school.

Charly Painting

Such sadness in Moore Oklahoma. One of the photos that really stands out in my mind is of a  woman sitting on the driveway holding her cat. The animal was wrapped in a blanket and the house was gone--gone except for a pile of rubble, and what I would assume was her car sitting on top of it. I have never felt that kind of paralysis due to a storm but I have come close a couple of times. Where do you begin? I guess the journey of a thousand miles that begins with one step really rings true. You pick up one item then another, then another.

I don't know what it says about me but I can watch movies or TV shows where people get killed and I am fairly unaffected but when I see an animal hurt or abused it is heart-wrenching and unbearable. Perhaps I have been desensitized to human pain but certainly not to animal pain.

The storm was terrible in Oklahoma, and not a couple of weeks before, my town of Granbury Texas was hit and partially destroyed. I don't live there anymore but my family is there and many memories of a beautiful little historic town.

It is tornado season and we all live in constant concern if not fear as the sky darkens and the wind blows. When the sirens fill the air with noise we think--we have been lucky so far.

I am thankful school is out for the summer--at least I don't have to worry about where to take the students--in order to save lives.

 

Last week I posted early pictures of a painting I am doing for a writing project.

I posted a photo of the first drawing on the board and a second photo of the first stages of applying color. Here is the  "pretty much finished" painting (because nothing is ever really finished). I decided to do a monochromatic color scheme and to leave the background obscure.

As I was working on the portrait of Charly I couldn't help thinking about all those lost animals in Oklahoma and Texas. Charly is well loved and well taken care of as a result of two people who were not intimidated by the bad rap pit bulls get from the media. Charly is loving and playful and a great companion.

He also has a great variety of expressions and moods--just enough to keep him a never-ending surprise.

I hope the painting is a good portrait for aspiring writers and helps them to find a self-expressing voice. I am looking for my next subject--maybe something playful or mysterious.







A small check is on it's way to Oklahoma to help take care of those homeless pets that have lost their owners. If you care to join me here is the address
Central Oklahoma Humane Society
9300 N. May Avenue
Ste.400-281
Oklahoma City, OK
73120

Mountains of New Mexico

School is about to end for this year and summer is three steps down the path. Cold weather has been lingering and over stayed its welcome. Spring  was here for a few days--long enough for the lilac, forsythia, and purple irises to all bloom gloriously--drop their blossoms and turn all green. And now it is hot. Humidity is 96% and the air so full of moisture you could wring it out like my grandmother's dishcloth.

The portrait of Charly is coming along nicely. I will not post a picture of it here because it is in it's "ugly" stage and very shy. I will post one next week regardless of it's condition--it will have to get over being shy. The portrait of Charly is the first in a small series I am doing in conjunctions with a group of writers. In July we will team up to show case visual arts and writing using some of my pet portraits as inspiration. I am trying to put together a group of paintings of especially ambiguous yet emotional animals that will invoke the writers imagination. Charly and I and the other 5 canvases are very excited.

There is a painting I would like to post. This is a painting done a few years ago in Red River New Mexico. We were staying at my sister's little cabin in the mountains above the town way up a gravel road. We were driving a Honda Insight (hybrid) which is very close to the ground. Not wanting to travel the gravel road overmuch we decided to walk to town. This was a jaunt of a little over a mile.--both ways. The walk was grand, the weather cool and fresh. There was a wonder at every turn in the road. But on one particular turn I took the time to tie my often untied boots when I saw this little stucture. I call it a structure because I didn't know exactly what it was--a cabin, a well-house, an old mining shed (ok that one is pretty far fetched, wrought from too many John Wayne movies as a child). But whatever it was I felt intriged and mystified. It sat all alone in a small openning in the woods--abandoned. Or was it? My imagination was running away with me but my upbringing told me it was private and to leave it that way. So I did--but I painted it, hoping to capture a little bit of it's charm and mystery.

I really never know if the things I end up painting are as special as I see them or if I tend to imbue some personal estimation into people, places, and pets.

A Happy Mother's Day

The very best Mother's Day present I have ever received was 36 years ago when my first child was born. She was born on Mother's Day 1977. The day before she was born I had picked a bouquet of wild daisies I found by the roadside. I picked them for my own mother who had come from Texas to be present at the birth of her 8th grandchild. Amanda came easily and with dark curls all over her head.

Three years later her brother was born and added smiles and laughter to our lives. Two sweeter children never existed. They have truely been a joy all of their lives and now I have a wonderful time enjoying their children. It was a great Mother's Day--one I shared with my children and my grandchildren. We planted gardens and built fairy houses and even had a little time for chicken chasing!

A little time in the evening I spent following my passion--painting. I have an exhibit coming up in July so I began a new painting.

This is the first stages of a painting of a rescued Pit Bull named Charly. Pit Bulls were once called "nanny dogs" because they helped  take care of children. They were and still are very protective of their families. Charly is very much like a little boy--playful and fun one moment and curled up in your lap the next--fast asleep.

He is alway ready to chase a ball.

 

This painting is oil on a wooden panel I prepared with gesso and sanded smooth.  I do a very rough sketch on the board just to block in some colors.

I am considering a monochromatic color scheme in a sepia tone -just for fun. But this could change at any moment. It is  good  to start with a value study even if I decide to add color later.

We will all be surprised at the outcome!

 

Summer Yearnings

School is about to wind down--12 days left. Everyone from students to teachers to janitors seem to be less engaged with the present and more speculative about the forthcoming vacation. The weather has been unseasonably cool and wet--it still feels like early spring. But I know just around the corner summer will make her appearance and no doubt rather abruptly. As the sidewalks heat up and the shade seems harder to find I wonder if the West is still as beautiful as I remember. I have been there a number of times but each time is a new experience. Things change. I travel west to collect images with my camera and   my spirit. Next year I will apply for the artist-in-residence program in one of the National Parks.

Colorado River

Many, many words have been spoken and written about Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, and Yosemite as well as many photographs and paintings have tried to capture their beauty. Ken Burns did a great job with his film on the National Parks. It is human nature to express how we feel about things that we connect with--a need to share.

I have Coyote Oldman playing in the Bose and it takes me right to that place where I smell the dust of the trails, the charred remains of the trees that burned years ago on the north rim, and the sound of the vastness that is everywhere.

A favorite experience I like to give  my students is the gift of visualization. It is a meditative practice I learned years ago in my college days. We all get comfortable, play Native American music, and close our eyes. I tell of a journey complete with sounds, smells, colors, temperature changes, and images. Many times they fall asleep they are so relaxed but they can tell me of the many things they saw and felt along the path. This, then transfers to the drawing paper or the canvas, and sometimes in the form of a sculpture. Here is a painting of Andy standing on a rock where the Colorado River and Tapeats Creek merge. It is a dangerous place, but I think he finds it magical--so do I. There are not enough years left to paint all the wild places I  would like to paint.

Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Kitchen

There is a famous painting by Georges Seurat that hangs in Chicago called Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. Many individuals and pets are lounging on the green grass of soft hills bordering a serene lake. Everyone seems contented and at ease, enjoying the outdoors and companionship. Everything is perfect. It could not be otherwise in a painting made up entirely of small dot-like brush strokes. When viewed from the proper distance the eye mixes the dots into areas of color, then into areas of form.

My Sunday afternoon today was made up of areas of color that transformed into shapes born of free flowing youthful minds, small hands, and smiles. I painted with my grandchildren.

Maddox is the older one with a great heart for things done properly. He is a thoughtful lad of five on the cusp of kindergarten. Reaching out with curiosity and exuberance he studies his paper, his paints, and his creativity before putting brush to paper. He is as careful as a five year old can be. He has confidence in his thought process but like the rest of us when doing creative work he noticed that the painting didn't turn out quite like he thought it would. I told him, "I know exactly how you feel". I don't remember having such insight when I was 20 let alone five. I think he will be a fine artist one day. He was a fine artist today.

 

The little blonde on the opposite side of the easel is a whole different set of standards. She is oblivious to rules, blind to advice, and beyond direction. Her painting was free-form and unbridled. She mixed colors, swirled the brush, and applied drips in thoughtful locations adding just the right touch of the Jackson Pollock influence. With Zoe behind the brush painting has no content and no critics--it is painting at is purest. She allowed the paint to flow from the brush to the paper of its own accord--she was only along for the ride. She and the paint and the paper had a great ride through reds and blues that turned into purple butterflies, to yellows and blues that turned into magical rivers of green. When she found how to make dots she turned into Suerat. And through it all she just smiled. I wish I could paint through Zoe's freedom.

Weimaraner named Greta

A recent painting of a beautiful Weimaraner named (a very German) "Greta".  This breed of dog is very loyal and has a sweet disposition. One could go further and say this particular dog is exceedingly loyal and exceptionally sweet! Greta had a promising litter of three puppies--all of which died shortly after birth. Greta was devastated. To assuage her grief she would arranged her stuffed toys around her, place her chin on her paws, and sigh.

Her owners didn't know if she understood about her puppies or she just knew something wasn't right. It is very hard not to attribute human characteristics to animals. Maybe doing so is what connects so many of us to our pets.

In truth, there are many animals I prefer to many humans.

On a happier note Greta is  now the proud mother of several little warm bundles of Weimaraners born a couple of weeks ago. Everyone is happy and healthy and they promise to grow up to be great hunting dogs like their mom.

Greta