Inspiration Set in Stone

I have often said that inspiration can be found anywhere and everywhere… but I can now say that some places hold more creative offerings than others. Traveling down the Colorado River, through the Grand Canyon, was just that. In every moment, anywhere I looked there were visual WOW’s.

For 16 days, there was a continuous deluge of wonders to take in… of the sights, sounds, and experiences that the river and canyon offered up. It was a journey that can’t be compared to any I have ever experienced. It has been three weeks since returning home but the river and the magnificent rock walls have not left me (and may never leave). I now carry them with me, or maybe a piece of me is still in the Canyon. 

The greatest inspiration came from the massive rock walls. There was a constant and fascinating stream of intricate formations, textures, lines, cracks, and colors to be found in the stone. Their beauty often brought me to tears.

Looking at the rocks up close was mesmerizing… the shapes and details, and how one or more types of stone would be imbedded within another. Stunning!! Everywhere I looked I found inspiration. 

Having seen the Grand Canyon from it’s river view, I don’t know if I can ever return to the rim. It would only make me long to be on the river again.

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Finding Inspiration in the Majestic Presence of Trees

Experiencing Joy in the Unknown

For the past year, I have been in one of those special places as an artist. I’m referring to the experience of beginning something totally new and not knowing where it will lead. It’s very much like the beginning stages of falling in love and just getting to know one another. Every moment is special and you don’t know how the future will unfold but you are immersed in the delight and energy of what the relationship is right now.  

I have been in a state of wonder as I’ve explored a new process and a new way of working. It’s been exhilarating and something I’ve wanted to keep mostly private, with very little sharing, as I develop and settle into this creative flow without rushing it at all. 

And in the process of discovery, questions arise: Will any of the past creative methods overlap with the new? Is it possible for this joyful flow to end up as a short lived series or something so much more? Will this be shared more widely or will my artistic love affair remain a gift for me alone?

This is what I know: I don’t need to have any of the answers. The joy is in the process of the creative unfolding, and I have no need to rush it. It’s a journey to be present each step along this path of discovery. I’m interested in the process as it develops, not the results. Much of my delight is in the wonder of where it will take me and where I will take it. And most importantly, I’m in love with the exploration of the Creative Adventure I have found myself on.

One of the joys of creating art is to get an idea or concept and to bring it to life… to make something that was just a thought and breathe it into existence.

My Well Loved Easel

While in my studio this past week, I scanned the room, taking in all that surrounded me… paints, brushes, canvases and more. These are the things that not only fill the space but fill me up with such good feelings. Then my eyes fell on the easel, my easel, which has traveled with me through the years. It traveled cross country when I moved from New York to California, and has become a centerpiece in each studio space through the years.

I was young, not long out of college. I walked into a Salvation Army store and there before me sat the easel of my dreams. It was as if there was nothing else in the store. I held my breath when I asked how much it cost. At the time, similar easels could go for a few hundred dollars. The woman answered emphatically, “What is it!? You can have it for 15 dollars if you can get it out of here!” I paid her SO fast and although I don’t remember telling her what it was, I probably did. This was now my easel!! I had just been given an amazing gift from the Universe at a price I could easily afford!

This week was the first time since then that I began to think of the life the easel had before it became mine. It clearly had a well used history. The wood was worn and showed signs of wear. I’d like to believe it was as well loved then as it has been in all these years with me. And now I am asking myself… How and why did it find its way into a used furniture store? What happened to the artist who had it before me?… but wait! Was it even owned by an artist? It’s been so many years that I’m not sure what paint marks are mine and what was here from before me.

Here’s what I can be sure of: This easel has been loved and cherished for well over 40 years now. It is an important part of my art history and I am so very grateful to have it in my life. I am thankful to whomever chose to give it up and to the woman who didn’t know this great piece was an easel.

What has traveled with you for a good part of your life… something that shares a long history with you and is beautifully woven into the tapestry of this lifetime of yours?

My Painting Process - Part 4

Completion Stage: Putting the Pieces Together

This stage of the process is such a delight and so fulfilling. It usually begins by laying out all of the separate elements, together, on the stretched canvas background, finalizing their placement, and sewing the cloth layers in place. Any additional text is now adhered to the painting where ever it seems to fit best.

Once all of the parts are solidly in place, the painting is ready to be made whole. In other words, it’s time to cohesify the painting. Everything has been prepared and painted in parts, and now they need to come together as one cohesive painting, rather than a collection of disjointed elements.

It’s a joyful experience that feels like starting fresh but with a structure already in place. I become lit up with ways to tweak the color here or create a shadow there, determining, “What else is needed?” “What areas to darken or lighten.” and “What alterations to make.“ I am truly in my happy place as I watch the painting transform in bits, as little alterations add to the whole. 

From inception to completion, the process of creating a painting is a joyful experience. Every part of the process has it’s gifts and delights. One of the greatest gifts is being able to be present for each of the stages, moment by moment, along the way.

This was part 4 of a 4 part series. Links to the first 3 are below.

You may also be interested in…
Before I Begin - Part 1
The Beginning Stage - Part 2
The Development Stage - Part 3

My Painting Process - Part 3

The Development Stage…

The middle stages in developing a painting primarily involve adding paint, creating the text to be included, making any revisions in the prepared cloth pieces, and considering any other elements I might want to add to the painting.  

I can get lost in the joy of playing with paint on the stretched canvas… adding colors, lightening areas, darkening others, thinking of how I want the background to show up around the cloth elements. In some paintings I take my time with this painting stage, just to continue enjoying the process.

Once I feel clearer about how the cloth pieces will fit within the whole, I give them their first layer of paint. There are times I prefer the raw look, and will choose to leave them coated but unpainted. 

Although the background of stretched canvas and the layers of cloth develop separately, they keep coming together to help clarify what each one requires in order to fit within the whole. It’s during this stage when it becomes clear if the painting would be better served with a different cloth construction… and a new one is prepared.

Up until this point I’ve considered the words I’d like to include in the painting. The concept and meaning behind the painting has developed within my mind and I am ready to produce the text in different sizes and sometimes in a variety of fonts to be printed. The placement of text on the painting becomes a super enjoyable game. Since I print more text than I will use, I have a multitude of choices as I move the strips of words from place to place. Decisions on the placement of text may lead to adding new layers of cloth to house the text.

More to come. This is part 3 of a 4 part series. Links to the first 2 are below,

Next up… Completion Stage: Putting the Pieces Together - Part 4

You may also be interested in…
Before I Begin - Part 1
The Beginning Stage - Part 2

My Painting Process - Part 2

Beginning stages…

I often begin a painting by covering the blank canvas with color. There’s so much freedom and joy in the feeling of a paint filled brush on the stretched canvas. It never gets old. There’s a wonderful ebb and flow to the dance between the brush and canvas, a give and take. Part of the fun is in placing dabs of multiple paint colors on the canvas and mixing them right there with the movement of the brush. The first coat of paint is pure play, with a definite awareness that anything placed on the canvas can be covered up, so at this point, nothing feels precious.

Another early stage of the process is in the construction of raw canvas pieces to fit the paintings concept or focus. This involves cutting, fraying, and stringifying them to size. But before I can do all that, I have to have a sense, and something of a vision, of the layout of the pieces within the whole. The prepared piece(s) help me to get moving forward on the painting and get a feel for the whole. They act as a place holder within the painting as it develops, but may not be the final piece(s) that end up in that particular painting. Many cloth pieces, created for one painting, have ended up in another, or on the pieces in waiting pile.

I love the beginning stages of a new painting… the flow and freedom of creating the first layer of color on the canvas, the feel of the cloth’s texture between my fingers, the pile of strings that develop as I pull the threads from the cloth to create the fringes. It could be thought of as the best part of the creative process, but for me, there are many best parts that take place as the painting’s process develops.

More to come. This is part 2 of a 4 part series.

Next up… The Development Stage - Part 3

You may be interested in:
Before I Begin - Part 1
Completion Stage: Putting the Pieces Together - Part 4

My Painting Process - Part 1

I’m here to share my process in creating a painting. Although there can be similarities in the way other artists work, every artist has their own steps, details, and experiences in creating their very individual and original works of art. I’ve decided to share mine in a series of 4 blogposts, broken down into 4 stages, to be shared over the next several weeks. I’ll be focusing on the steps in developing a Canvas-on-Canvas painting.

This will be a general overview of the process, although one size doesn’t necessarily fit all of my paintings. I begin Part 1 of the series by describing what commonly takes place before I even begin a painting.

Before I Begin:

Before I put paint to canvas, I often get an idea… it could be a vision, a title, or concept of something that zings me. No matter what it is that jump starts the creative flow, I am sparked by a desire to express something I find meaningful. 

Often, once the concept begins to take up residence within my thoughts, I begin to get a feel for the colors to use in that painting. It’s not that I’m trying to come up with a palette, although that does happen occasionally. It’s more of a feeling sense of the colors that come to me. I guess it’s hard to explain how I might feel the colors but I do believe I feel them first and then get a subtle visual, as if I’m seeing the colors through a mist and from afar. However misty, there’s a sense of clarity on a specific color palette to begin with, and I am able to have the paints at the ready before I get to work.

There have been a few times in which I’ve used my collection of painted color swatches to choose the palette. Although I find it to be fun to play with the many choices, the process feels a bit clunky and awkward. The color flow ends up feeling a bit less natural.

This is the first part of a 4 part series. Links to the next 3 are below.

Next up: The Beginning Stage - Part 2

You may be interested in:
The Beginning Stage - Part 2
The Development Stage - Part 3
Completion Stage: Putting the Pieces Together - Part 4

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.

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Art as Meditation

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.

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Art: A Divine Connection
Morning Meditation Paintings
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.