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?

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?

5 Quotes on the Nature of Art

Rick Rubin quote

It has been a few months since I posted a series of Art Quotes. This group of 5 includes quotes on the relationship between art and nature, and on the very nature of art itself.

I’ve included quotes by:

Rick Rubin (record producer)
Scott Adams (Dilbert creator, cartoonist and author)
Neil Gaiman (author of novels, short stories, comic book series and more)
Anais Nin (diarist, writer of essays, short stories and more)
Saint Francis of Assisi, who needs no introduction (Italian Catholic friar)

“The power of nature is such that it’s what all art strives to be. The more we can get in tune with the harmony of the planet, the more our art can benefit from that relationship.”

~ Rick Rubin

Scott Adams quote

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep. ”

— Scott Adams

Neil Gaiman quote

“The world always seems brighter when you’ve just made something that wasn’t there before. ”

— Neil Gaiman

Anais Nin quote

“It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it. ”

— Anais Nin

Saint Francis of Assisi quote

“He who works with his hands is a laborer. He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman. He who works with his hands. his head, and his heart, is an artist.”

— Saint Francis of Assisi

NOTE: On the Anais Nin quote, I added (or artist).

You may also be interested in:
5 Art Quotes to Inspire
5 Quotes by Famous Artists
5 Art Quotes by Audrey Flack

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:

Art: A Divine Connection
Morning Meditation Paintings
Meditation on Rain

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.

Joy: a Morning Ritual

Imagine what it would feel like to begin your day by embracing your inner joy. What a great way to jump start a day. And it’s quite simple… you’ve just awakened, eyes may not yet be ready to open, and you focus your thoughts on something or someone that brings you joy, lights you up, and makes you feel expansive.

It could be anything… a thought of spending time with someone who makes you smile, a trip you have planned or a joy-filled memory, an activity you enjoy or an idea for a project you would love to tackle, or maybe something new you’ve been wanting to learn or experience. No matter what you choose for your focus, it’s a method of switching on that sense of delight.

Once you have your point of focus, experience the joy associated with it and let the feeling fill you up. Then imagine in your mind’s eye, doing a little inner dance and maybe you just can’t help physically moving to your inner rhythm.

This is exactly what I began doing, first thing in the morning, this summer. And I can’t help but think that in doing so, every cell in my being became lit up and infused with a smile. There’s an effervescence that comes with it and a feeling of expansion, as if I am filled with light bubbles. I’m finding this a great way to launch a day!

Have you ever danced for the pure joy of it in a given moment… just you, expressing your delight right then and there? If not, I highly recommend it. Your whole body gets into the act of feeling that joy and it becomes an active exuberance.

Don’t wait for someone or something to light up your life… do it for yourself.

You may also be interested in Love: a Morning Practice.

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.

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.