You Should Paint

Changes Underway Again

2010-05-22T08:11:00.002-05:00

In the next few days this website and blog will change over to WordPress and have a much different feel and function. It is part of an overall change in my business model, which has the goal of enabling me to have an income and paint, too. Not an easy feat these days. No guarantee it will work, either, but there's nothing to be done except to try.

The cookery has been successful to a back-breaking extent. Demand was such that I either had to expand the business and take on employees, more equipment, debt, and headaches, or to keep working for bupkes because of an inability to meet a greater demand. The doc said I basically had to get out of the kitchen because the heat is gonna do me in, literally. So I have stopped the catering side of things and am focusing on marketing my cinnamon buns, recipes, and even some art. The main site will be at cinnamonbunny.com and two associated blogs, this one and megsrecipes.com, the latter specifically for developing and marketing a recipe book.

Steve and I will be working on how to save most of the content on this site and blog during the transition to the new format. I look forward to being able to have a list of everyone's links and blogs and maybe even a means of purchasing my stuff right from this site. It takes time and persistence to get this done, but hopefully things will be in place by the next time you check in.

Knitting & Crochet Blog Week, Day 4

2010-04-29T19:29:00.002-05:00

A New Skill
Is there a skill related to your hobby that you hope to learn one day? maybe you’re a crocheter who’d also like to knit? Maybe you’d like to learn to knit continental, knit backwards, try cables or attempt stranded colourwork. TAGGING CODE: knitcroblo4

I know how to do a little bit of stranded colorwork, but would like to get better at it and create my own patterns reminiscent of needlepoint. Maybe next winter.

Knitting & Crochet Blog Week, Day 3

2010-04-29T19:16:00.002-05:00

One Great Knitter
Write about a knitter whose work (whether because of project choice, photography, styling, scale of projects, stash, etc) you enjoy. If they have an enjoyable blog, you might find it a good opportunity to send a smile their way. TAGGING CODE: knitcroblo3

Once again it would be my daughter in law Amy Maxwell. She comes up with the neatest ideas and patterns, and that in turn gets my own creativity flowing: Strand Over Fist

Knitting & Crochet Blog Week, Day 2

2010-04-29T19:08:00.002-05:00

An Inspirational Pattern

Blog about a pattern or project which you aspire to. Whether it happens to be because the skills needed are ones which you have not yet acquired, or just because it seems like a huge undertaking of time and dedication, most people feel they still have something to aspire to in their craft. If you don’t feel like you have any left of the mountain of learning yet to climb, say so! TAGGING CODE: knitcroblo2

I would love to do traditional Aran knitting, and create the kinds of sweaters and afghans in natural fibers that I find endlessly appealing. I also would like to learn to knit with cotton in such a way as to keep it from getting stretched out of shape.

The Knitting and Crochet Blog Week: 4/26-2/5 2010

2010-04-26T18:47:00.003-05:00

Thought this would be a fun thing to participate in. Here's the mother post, at eskimimi knits.

Day One Topic:

Starting Out

How and when did you begin knitting/crocheting? was it a skill passed down through generations of your family, or something you learned from Knitting For Dummies? What or who made you pick up the needles/hook for the first time? Was it the celebrity knitting ‘trend’ or your great aunt Hilda? TAGGING CODE: knitcroblo1

I sort of stumbled into the world of knitting and crocheting when I was about seven or eight years old. I came across a skinny pair of knitting needles and a ball of string in a box of my mother's old things and asked her if I could give it a go. She never did learn how to knit or crochet, even though she came from a family of fabulous needlewomen. One day not long after that my grandmother's sister came to visit and brought her knitting along. I was fascinated by the whole process of turning balls of yarn into things that were usable or wearable. My great-aunt gave me some instruction on the spot, and a ratty old how-to book. Every once in a while I'd get a skein of yarn from the dimestore and attempt to learn a new pattern or make something for my dolls. The book also had crocheting instructions. I had no crochet hook, so bent a bobby pin into one and taught myself how to crochet from the book's pictures. Got good enough to make potholders and such for selling at the school PTA bazaar. Stopped both knitting and crocheting for many years because I was inundated with crocheted fishnet vests and shawls from various aunts and ripple and granny square afghans from my grandmother. Picked it up again in college as a meditative hobby, and that's when I started making my first sweaters, big simple garter stitch sweaters without much shaping and in stripes of bright colors. Have pretty much never stopped knitting ever since. Crocheting fell by the wayside until this past winter, when I used it along with knitting in a great big free-form afghan. Most recently I crocheted a Market Bag designed by my daughter-in-law Amy Maxwell, a very talented professional crocheter and pattern designer. Her site is at Strand Over Fist. I used medium weight cotton twine from Ace hardware and the result is a bag sturdy enough for my laptop!

So It's Dawned on Me...

2010-04-11T22:03:00.002-05:00

...that I haven't painted for a bit, nor have I gardened, in spite of the unquestionably springlike weather of the past two weeks. These are passions I haven't been able to act upon because of the demands of the cookery. Yet I am not making enough money with the cookery to just coast a little. It is quite physically demanding, on my feet a lot, and stooped over counters and sinks and my hands and arms get tired from the chopping and stirring and lifting. I like the work, it's not bad as jobs go, but something's gotta give pretty soon. Consequently, I am in the process of thinking and planning, figuring out a way to restore some balance in my life and quite possibly improve all the elements, including health and income. More later....

A Tricky Commission

2010-03-06T22:39:00.002-06:00

Last spring a close friend wanted me to do a painting of her grandson in a manner similar to one I'd done of his big sister several years ago. A simple enough request, but it did present some challenges. The little girl's portrait came about after seeing her nearly on a daily basis for a long time. I had a sense of her and would also see her during the course of working on the painting.

Flash forward six years--a lot has changed. We moved away, my painting style has evolved, and I last saw the little boy when he was still an infant. My friend sent a cute picture of him, Steve took a photo of the original painting for me to work from, and I finally worked up the focus to give it a go. Then I forgot to take a photo of the finished painting before giving it to my friend. But it's done, and I am glad.

Free-Form Knittting--Meg Style

2010-01-20T15:43:00.007-06:00

I periodically go through times of retreat, when forces in the world around me cause mental, emotional, and/or physical turmoil, enough to render me very quiet. It was like that for the past couple of months. I won't go into it here, no point, really, but the sum total of everything made me not know what to say about anything at all. Or even to paint. Times like that do call for some sort of comfort, and knitting is mine.

Last winter I knitted like a madwoman, making sweaters for family and myself. This year, nobody needed another sweater, honestly. Plus buying more yarn is not part of the current budget. I did, however, have a big plastic storage box full of leftover yarn from the past 40 years. Nuts, I know. I toyed with the idea of a crazy quilt made of knitted and crocheted patches of leftover yarn, but knitting off from each section rather than sewing or joining pieces together. My daughter-in-law Amy, an avid crocheter, sent me links to free-form crochet sites, so then I knew there was a name for what I wanted to do. I started in November, and I'm still working on it. It's large enough now, though, to keep me warm while I work on it. Steve took some pics of what I've got so far:

Whimsical Paintings

2009-11-11T22:27:00.002-06:00

The nice thing about Twitter is the ease of following links put up by the people you follow, a kind of free-and-easy process that doesn't have any strings attached or demand more time than you have to give. The artist Justin Vining is one of those young, high-energy Twitterers who posts links to art-related things with a frequency I find amazing. I seldom have enough time to investigate them.

This morning, however, I got up at 5 a.m. in anticipation of an early morning meeting with customers in the cookery. Had time for my usual coffee and browsing the news on the laptop, but very little news was posted that early. So I went to Twitter and looked at all the recent links posted by the people I follow, and came across Justin's link to Whimsical Paintings . This site is very new, and so far consists of a partial page of thumbnail images which link to the artists' websites. Yet I recognized some kindred spirits there, and immediately made arrangements to list with it, the first time I have ever felt compelled to do this sort of thing. The organizer only asks for reciprocal linking or mention in a blog, which is what I am doing in this post.

But it is not the only purpose of this post. Something is happening in my artist-head over the past few weeks, which is the realization that my art is gaining its own identity. This is quite different than having one's own identity as an artist. I am experiencing a sort of wonderment at how different and yet natural it is. Looking forward to exploring more genre sites and seeing where it all leads....

Bird Watching

2009-11-10T09:11:00.003-06:00

This is a painting I'd started a year ago, then stopped because I wasn't quite sure what to do next with it. It remained in it's tentative, watercolory state. Lately I have been painting with stronger, surer intent, yet having more fun with composition, and decided treat this painting as if it were just the first layers of something I'd do now.

The original had the same odd perspective, but the pedestrians were originally a shadowy couple rendered in blues. I recalled the composition was actually something from a dream, so ran with it, and let color-play feed the painting process. The blues were intensified, the shapes simplified; I discovered a bird-like quality to the shapes, which I then emphasized. This painting got more fun to do as I worked.

On a Mission

2009-10-21T22:08:00.005-05:00

Have so many old canvases and panels with paintings that went nowhere or feel incomplete or unsatisfying on some level--so I am on a mission to repaint them. Some need editing &/or finishing, and some need total obliteration. This is the sort of project I relish, and it's been a long time since I have felt this comfortable with my art-brain and my art-space all at the same time. Will post them as I get them finished. Here's three florals of things that grow in the garden:

Coneflowers, sage, & yarrow

Tickseed, yarrow, & cranesbill

Sage, gaura, & yarrow

Studio Study

2009-10-21T22:05:00.001-05:00

...in which the old white chair makes a return...

Dream of My Old House

2009-10-21T22:04:00.000-05:00

...complete with my old cat...

Something Fishy

2009-10-21T22:03:00.000-05:00

This was so much fun to paint....

Harvest Moon & Night Birds

2009-10-21T22:01:00.000-05:00

I have weird dreams...

Orange Chair

2009-10-21T21:59:00.001-05:00

Bit by bit, I get some painting done...

First Day's Action

2009-10-07T17:28:00.001-05:00

Finished one painting, started another. Rinse, repeat. =;D

Breakfast in the Studio

2009-10-07T09:13:00.002-05:00

This is more like it! Rich cuppa black coffee on the trivet to my right, a bagel with cream cheese on a little plate to my left, a happy kitty cat, my feet warming over the register, and a view of a gloomy day that is gradually brightening. This is the first day of my new schedule, moving the cookery hours to the afternoon and using the mornings to paint, when I am at my freshest.

It does feel a little strange, though, not selecting recipes and apron and heading out to the cookery and turning on the oven. By now I am normally halfway through the day's order. But after nearly a solid year of cooking for the coffee shop, I've got the routine down pat and can do it even if I am feeling tired and flat. But I cannot paint or do anything new when I am tired and flat. It took a couple of days to double-cook and make the schedule shift, but it's done and Karen at the coffee shop has given me her full support. It helps that she likes my art.

The show that we had scheduled for November-December has been cancelled, due to some changes in the works at the coffee shop. I learned of this on the very day that I first moved back into this studio, which almost took the wind out of my sails. But enough people have asked me about my work and wanting to see it that I've perked back up.

Just finished the bagel, and thus fortified, turn to the easel!

Inventory of a Studio

2009-09-25T17:29:00.003-05:00

First, views of the empty 9 x 9 space:

Then, objects arrive, starting with the easel:

This is a nice sturdy metal easel which I've had for several years. Provenance: art supply store in the dunes.
Next in is the studio chair:
It was a very expensive and substantial chair at one time, but is missing a bolt or two, so got it used and for a song at the same art supply store in the dunes as the easel. The hydraulic lift still works great and it is very comfortable, if noisy.

Next come shelves, "floating" type shelving. Provenance: our old gallery. I save everything and schlep it from place to place, room to room as needed:

Next is the ratty old cart, a Cosco-type metal kitchen/pantry cart ca. 1982. Squeaky, rusty, and yet still usable:

Buckets of gesso and medium are great for ballast on the bottom shelf of the ratty old cart:

The palette is a butcher tray from Utrecht in Chicago; the paint bin is a red livestock pharmaceutical bin from a resale shop for 50 cents:

More crap: glass peanut butter and pasta sauce jars, old lint-free dishtowel, brushes both cheap and expensive:

Then a simple bookcase. Provenance: my son's room during his grade school years. There's another one like it in my husband's office. Ca 1990 from some long-departed discount store:

Old table with new printer. $8 side table from Goodwill a couple of years ago; printer is Canon MX310 which is probably the only printer I've ever owned that I've ever actually enjoyed using. 2-level table has enough room for paper and various Avery products, as well as a place to plug in the laptop for print jobs:

Small jute rug from some outlet store or other about 15 years ago:

Corner of rug has the word "sample" written on it, which is why i got it for $1.

Bullet can from son's old room during his high school years in his favorite color: black. Its a great can, tho, heavy plastic and sturdy and holds as much as a standard kitchen can:

The painting apron. Provenance: son's childhood cooking kit, ca 1991. Came with a chef's hat, too, which I still have, but don't wear when I paint.

Thinking Chair. Provenance: paternal great-grandmother, who gave it to grandma, who gave it to my mom, who then gave it to me when I was ready for a "big girl" bedroom ca 1962. It's been painted many colors, from white to pink to blue to yellow to black to white to yellow and then to a kind of faded green. Might paint it yellow again. Maybe.

Momcat on Thinking Chair. b. kliban cat pillow ca 1984. I like b. kliban cats. My current cat thinks it is a real cat:

Cat's Basket. Provenance: Crate and Barrel outlet, intended for magazines but co-opted by Tiger the cat ca 1999. Eventually co-opted by current cat Tabby.

Old table. Provenance: aunt and uncle. It's not a valuable antique, and can really use a paint job:

Beloved trivet. Provenance: son's kindergarten project, ca 1986. Have used it every day ever since:

Bunny Gates. View of the cookery garden from the new studio's window. Dad made the gates for me for my old house, and I couldn't leave them behind. Planted a pear tree out there this spring, but the little thing is hard to see in this pic:

In the next blog I'll show it all in action!

All Moved In

2009-09-22T16:12:00.003-05:00

I can hardly believe that I am back in my old studio, typing this entry in the window nook. It hasn't really sunk in that I've got a room of my own again, one where I can go to think, to paint, to write, and even to shut the door and sulk if I want. It's not exactly the same as it was, which is good, because previously it also served as office and dressing room. Now it is just studio and retreat, there isn't as much stuff jammed into the 9 x 9 space, and a lot of things have changed in my life since I used it before.

I've taken pictures of each thing as I moved it into the empty space, and will post it later as a sort of personal studio inventory. This is going to work out very well.

Getting My Old Studio Back!

2009-09-21T08:23:00.002-05:00

Finished a painting yesterday and started a new one while Steve was away at an art fair. I moved my easel and some paints up to the dining room for the day and felt so comfortable there that I was tempted to make it my new permanent studio, which would be disastrous for every other reason imaginable in this little house. After about an hour's discussion, Steve and I realized that it was time for me to have my old studio back, and I am so excited that my insides feel like a bunny dancing under a full moon.

I've tried and tried to work in the basement, and sometimes it was not too bad--there's room to spread out and have many projects on the go at once. But this summer it was always so cold down there, which is hell on the arthritis. And it is, after all, a basement, no daylight, no views, very isolated. If anything, I'm a treetops person and my first choice of a studio location would be a second-storey loft or attic. My second choice is right next to the garden. At the moment the cookery is the room right next to the garden, and it has to be there for health department regulations, unconnected to other living areas of the house. The next best room is the room I originally chose for an office/studio when we first moved here, a small back bedroom with a tiny window nook. I did some nice work in there, even though it could be a bit cramped.

I turned it over to Steve when his photography work expanded but his allergies and other health problems made working in the basement impossible for him. It is also next to his office where all the computers are, so it was a no-brainer to locate his digital photography space there. But now he has closed down his web development business and his office is more painting studio than anything else. He's also feeling much, much better than he did last year, in fact he is feeling better now than he has in the past six years. Swapping work spaces is reasonable now.

Can hardly wait to get it all set up!!! I love the little window nook and its tiny built-in desk. It's a warm and cozy room and I'm going to have my rocking chair and reading lamp in there, as well. It'll be a true "room of one's own."

Show Date is Set & Other Updates

2009-08-30T09:36:00.002-05:00

Since the last post I've done four paintings, not many but better than nothing. They are currently hanging in the coffee shop as "fillers" in a group show which Steve & I organized. The show opened Friday evening and we were more than pleased with the interest and turnout. It will run through Halloween, and then we will set up another show for November-New Year's. I have set my cap to have 15 new paintings for that show, and not all of them small, either. There is a large mass of painting welling up in me and screaming to get out, and I have the space and the materials ready to handle it.

The past month has had the extra work involved with taking on a booth every Thursday and Saturday mornings at the local farmer's market to sell my baked goods. Steve sets up and takes down the canopy for me and we have the routine down pretty good now, along with all the elements for display and serving and what is worth offering and what not to bother with. I've also been learning the ins and outs of online social networking in order to promote both the cookery and the art efforts.

At the same time, Steve has closed his web development business for health reasons. His art has blossomed and I do believe it is helping to heal him. He will be in two local art fairs and aims to apply for more art fairs for next year. His most recent work can be seen at www.artbystevejohnson.com .

Re-Testing the Studio

2009-06-17T12:09:00.002-05:00

In the winter months, the basement studio is actually pretty cozy--not too hot, not too cool, and brightly lit, at least compared to the quality of winter light at this latitude. But in the summer, with the a/c running almost constantly, the basement is almost cold, and the light seems weak by comparision with the summer light. The a/c unit runs at a different frequency than the furnace, and it is not as soothing a white noise. Nonetheless it is my space to sprawl out in as I please, and the coolness is a boon when hot flashes strike, which seems to be every hour on the hour these days.

Am about to tackle a new set of paintings, sans people and cats and other creatures, and allowing objects and rooms to be still lifes and interiors for their own sake. Valparaiso is a very different place than Miller Beach, and I've been here long enough to internalize a sense of being here rather than a sense of still being in transition. In that sense, I am also re-testing my sense of place, which has been the driving force of most of my creative efforts.

Steve is in the process of arranging a few group shows at Isabella Bean coffee shop in downtown Valparaiso. It will be interesting to see how they evolve. If I am satisfied with this next batch of work, I might be able to hang a few there myself.

At Long Last

2009-03-07T11:00:00.002-06:00

Hung the new still life and a large collage in the coffee shop yesterday afternoon. Steve helped, as the collage is in a glass frame and was a bit heavy for me to manage. When he gets a pic taken, I'll post it here.

There's nothing like having your work hanging in a public space to make it seem more real, somehow. The studio is little better than an extension of the inside of my head. Artwork collects there like stacks of memories. But once a piece makes it to the outside world, it is expressed to the outside world, takes on an existence different than the existence in the studio. Sometimes the expression connects well enough to be purchased and thus extend the expression even further.

I find that once a work is purchased and taken away to a place where I might well never see it again, I tend to forget about it. This was not true when I first started to sell artwork. After the first year, however, I had enough confidence in my ability to do good work consistently, that each painting or assemblage stopped feeling like precious, happy accidents and more like one part of an ongoing saga. It's a process not unlike publishing a serial novel--the story evolves, but you can't redo what's already been published. I'm fine with that.

Painting Again

2009-02-19T20:37:00.003-06:00

Most mornings are spent in the cookery, and the afternoons vary between running errands, housework, and resting. But it looks like weekends are pretty good for some painting. It's not much, but it is better than nothing, and I am infinitely grateful for the establishment of a routine after a long year of figuring out how to start and run the cookery.

The canvas for this latest, untitled, painting was sitting on the easel for several months, still wrapped in plastic. Got ten hours of sleep on Friday night, and woke up feeling pretty good and quite energetic. I tidied up the studio area from a household sewing project, and donned my painting apron. Didn't think about it too much. Just painted to the hum of the furnace. The vase and flower on a table in front of a window is an old theme of mine, but the painting is really just about painting. It feels good to be back.

It Took a Little Longer Than I Thought

2008-11-23T11:22:00.002-06:00

It is now Thanksgiving Week, and there is much to be thankful for. Since the last post, I spent nearly all of my time doing what needed to be done to make Cinnamon Bunny a licensed commercial kitchen--installing the grease trap, check valve for backflow, taking the food service manager's safety course, and endless research and development of recipes.

The day I got my license from the Health Department, a call came from a local coffeeshop, asking about supplying baked goods, soups, and casseroles. This was right before Halloween. Since then, the working relationship with Isabella Bean Coffeehouse has been very successful, and I have given them an exclusive on my baked goods in the downtown Valparaiso area.

Over the summer I tested recipes to the tune of an additional 35 pounds, and that's before the holidays! Of course now I look more like a mature woman than an aging cornstalk, and this necessitated an update of the old reliable wardrobe. It was a long-overdue series of shopping trips, and extremely enjoyable =;D

Also, I began treatment for my arthritis, and it is slowly making a difference, especially in my hands. I am a compulsive knitter, but couldn't knit at all for over a year. This fall I have been knitting up a storm, making an Einstein Coat, a Dr. Who scarf, and a striped sweater out of unraveled old projects. Tomorrow I will start on Einstein coats for Nick and Amy, who really liked the one I made for myself. Nick graduated from Law School in May and passed the bar exam on his first try! We are all thrilled that he is finally done with school. He is still looking for work with a firm, as hiring has screeched to a halt in this economy, but he is not letting the grass grow under him. He is also a musician and sound technician, and has developed a set of training videos which have been well-reviewed and are selling very well. He also has several other related projects going, and does some freelance legal work when it turns up.

Steve's own health has improved by leaps and bounds as he has gotten control over his allergies and sleep apnea. As a result, his own productivity has soared, he has a set of very good clients, and he's very much back to his old cheerful self. As anyone knows who has shared a spouse's struggles, when there is an upturn, an improvement, the whole world seems much brighter. He has been so supportive of my cookery (especially helping me test recipes!) and it is great that we can both work from home.

On the art side of things there is nothing to report because all my efforts have gone toward getting Cinnamon Bunny going. There are a couple more things yet to do, then after that it will just be a matter of a regular baking schedule. I think by the end of the year I will be painting again. Sometimes you just know.

We are all grateful at the outcome of the Presidential Election, as we were staunch Obama supporters from the get-go. There will be some rough economic times ahead, but I do think in the long run things will be better for the environment, for health care, and for economic equality.

Back on Earth

2008-07-12T13:45:00.002-05:00

It's been over four months since I last even looked at this blog, and it's been pretty intense. We sold our house in Miller, at long last, and I've thrown myself into projects at this house which I've been wanting to do since we moved here, plus working on refining just what sort of business I want Cinnamon Bunny to be.

But this is an art blog, so on the art front, I've moved everything and anything I've got related to art to our expansive basement. It's clean, dry, roomy, & well-lit. This is the first time I have ever had all my art supplies for painting, drawing, assemblages, and collages all on one level and in one room. It really helps. There is enough space for working on a large painting, and several assemblages, collages, or smaller paintings--all at the same time! There's a big double-basin laundry tub for washing brushes, etc. There are two worktables and two drafting tables, plenty of chairs, and if I want I can move our little bar fridge down there from the garage. All my power tools, including the table saw, are down there, and all the paints and miscellaneous hardware I've collected over the years. I can make messes to my heart's desire, and I don't have to hide it or move it out of the way when company comes. Plus I can multitask and take care of the laundry at the same time. There is also a bathroom of sorts under the stairs, complete with a shower. It needs a bit of fixing up to be useful, but I bet we'll get to that within the next few months.

It's such a terrific feeling to have just this one house to worry about. We have a separate kitchen for the bakery, the garage is now spotless and the floor is enameled with an epoxy paint. We'll insulate the ceiling this fall when it gets cooler outside. The best part may be the new garden off the new kitchen. Steve did a wonderful job with it, utilizing our collection of old street brick and mixing in square pavers and pea gravel. I moved nearly all the perennials from the north side of the house to this new sunny area, and they are flourishing. There is enough room for an umbrella and a couple of chairs, and thus I finally have a real flower garden to sit in.

When I moved my studio things to the basement, I encouraged Steve to take over my old studio space for his photography. It is right across the hall from his office, and since he does digital photography, it makes it simpler for him to have his computers nearby. This arrangement is working out superbly. He doesn't need as much space as I do, nor does his work make as much of a mess. I'm glad that we both have dedicated space for art and business now, even in this little house.

Cinnamon Bunny

2008-03-03T19:40:00.004-06:00

The cooking job has evolved a bit, and I've got a little cottage industry going, which I've named Cinnamon Bunny, in celebration of the cinnamon buns which I have developed and have been making several times per week for some time now. Other goodies are my various scones (cinnamon, cranberry/oatmeal, blueberry, chocolate chip, and plain with mock Devon Cream), cheesecake, and carrot cake. I also make quiches, chicken pecan salad, potato and pasta and tuna salad, and various casseroles and meat pasties. And of course cookies, particularly cinnamon sugar bunnies. Steve's got the home page up at www.cinnamonbunny.com and in the weeks to come I will add the content.

On the Good Ship Apple Pie

2008-03-03T19:32:00.003-06:00

After several months of cooking, I finally got things down to a routine. This in turn freed me up to paint a little, Even if it is about food!

I find myself regressing to my dream mode from about three years ago. It's looser, more playful, and makes a good escape from the tangibles and exactitudes of my current daily life.

Always Hoping It'll Get Better

2007-12-31T15:25:00.000-06:00

It's New Year's Eve and I've got my feet up, resting as much as I can. I love my job, but it does take its toll on my legs, so many hours on my feet. In the two months since I started working as a cook I haven't done a single painting. I often fall asleep on the sofa when I get home, then get up and deal with dinner, laundry, or groceries, or whatever or nothing if I am extra tired. Was supposed to do two small paintings for my parents' Christmas present, and only got as far as the studies. But I have created a new menu for the coffee shop, compiled and revised recipes for it, and created a cookbook out of it. Maybe in time I can delegate more and more of the work and not be so tired out from it.

We were supposed to go to a party tonight, but I am really not up for it and am grateful that Steve is being such a good sport about it, as I know he wanted to go. We will stay snuggled in tonight and watch movies and eat one last blast of fun food. The weather is very gloomy and my spirits aren't the best, but I'm always hoping it'll get better, with better health, better finances, and better prospects for us all.

Cooking and Cooking and Cooking

2007-11-24T11:39:00.000-06:00

It's been an interesting month, basically hit the ground running in the coffee shop kitchen, and am now in the midst of overhauling the menu and the entire approach to food preparation there.

The coffee shop is Espress Yourself, on Lincolnway next to Gil Drugs, just a couple of blocks from home. It makes for a great commute! They've had a fixed menu for quite some time now, but it was time for a change, and I was basically given carte blanche to come up with a new menu comprised exclusively of from-scratch ingredients. No more prefab ingredients, artificial ingredients, etc., or even purchased doughs or piecrusts. Every soup, muffin, pie, and quiche is made from scratch, short of grinding the flour and laying the eggs. It would be great to go organic, but the cost of organic food here is prohibitive, and the selection limited. We're still working out the kinks in this ambitious transition, but my premise is if the basic ingredients are fresh, you can make yummy food. By the end of this coming week everything should be in place and running as smoothly as a small kitchen can. I've been testing and adapting recipes and trying to figure out how much they cost per serving, etc. Now I'm also trying to figure out how many pounds of basic ingredients I need to buy and prep every week, such as flour, sugar, carrots, apples, eggs, cream, etc. We make the final decision on the new core menu this weekend.

Steve is doing a new website for them, as well, and it should be ready any day now. It's been interesting and fun and quite satisfying.

It's also time for me to get back to painting again, which I will do over the weekend. Painting will seem like such a refreshing change of pace now.

Got a Job!

2007-10-21T21:19:00.000-05:00

After months of looking for work, I have found a job at the coffee shop, and start the day after tomorrow. I'll be working in the kitchen doing the baking and food prepping for their small but lovely breakfast and sandwich menu. I will be joining the ranks of artists moonlighting in food service, of course, but this particular job looks like it could be great fun. Am looking forward to learning the ropes during the first week, and then seeing the extent to which I can make the job my own and turn out first-rate fare. The owner made me feel very comfortable during the interview, and I think she and I will work well as a team.

Perhaps I should worry that it will interfere with my art work, but I've a very strong intuitive feeling it will actually help it. It will help me have a place here in the downtown area, and I've been invited to bring my art there, as well. There must be some reason why I've an impulse to paint cooking and kitchen scenes....

Dinner Together

2007-10-21T21:01:00.000-05:00

Decided to do a scene of dinner with Nick and Amy, just to see if I could work with specific people in mind, yet in the same manner. Got a few other things I'd like to compose along these lines in the weeks to come.

Salad Day

2007-10-21T20:58:00.000-05:00

Painted over one of the Farmer's Market paintings from this summer, felt it was too heavy and blurry and blah. The idea for this one came to me while working on my Artist's Way morning pages.

A technical challenge was to do the salad and carrot tops with enough, but not too much, detail.

Tabby in the Yarn

2007-10-21T20:46:00.000-05:00

Here's my silly cat again, inspired after a few nights of trying to rescue my knitting yarn from her sneak attacks.

Dream Paintings, Cont'd

2007-10-21T20:41:00.001-05:00

Then I wanted to paint a rabbit, or rather, a hare, a bunny more lively than cuddly, the energetic rabbit of folk stories and myths--and my dreams.

Dream Paintings

2007-10-21T20:31:00.000-05:00

Have been painting a lot in the past month, in anticipation of our first show of sorts in Valparaiso and of a gallery in Marquette Perk back in Miller Beach. I like to do small Dream Paintings, vignettes with lots of blue. The first is "Night Bird." This was my donation to the silent auction at a showhouse benefit for Hilltop House, and it was purchased.

Long Hot Summer

2007-09-06T15:41:00.000-05:00

The heat and humidity of August was flattening. The a/c has been running nonstop and I have been struggling with everything, it seems. Have been trying to find a part-time clerical job in this town for several months now, to no avail. Had an interview set up with one of the temp agencies, but they called today and cancelled, saying they have too large of a pool of workers on hand, try us again in two weeks. Oh well. The library, too, has been a closed door to me so far, even though I know I have the chops for the work. Every single job seems to have answering the phone as a required element. It's ironic that I am banging my head against the same stubborn employment limitations in 2007 that I ran into in 1987.

In The Artist's Way, Cameron would say that this is synchronicity at work, the Great Creator's way of telling me I have no business trying to do work other than my art. On the other hand, she says it is important not to shirk fiscal responsibilities--and our double dose of property taxes is a fiscal responsibility in my book! If anyone has any opinion on this, please share it with me. I don't know what to think.

We took on a newspaper delivery route for a while, but neither one of us can handle the body clock thing. The work is actually kind of fun, zooming around Valparaiso in the middle of the night and flinging newspapers onto the appropriate porches. Unfortunately it kills us both on the creative side of things, leaving us decidedly NOT on best form during the working day, whether we get enough sleep or not. Steve is determined to take on another job in addition to his web development and photography and graphics work.

The Popcorn Festival is this weekend, and we are looking forward to the experience. I haven't been to it in twenty years, and now here I'm living two blocks from the center of it all. It's supposed to be a beautiful day weather-wise, a good start to Autumn.

Houses, Gardens, and The Farmer's Market

2007-07-18T20:08:00.000-05:00

Among the paintings I was working on during my birthday week is this one, Farmer's Market I. The second one is not quite finished. The third hasn't been started, since I decided to move on to a mixed media piece. There are many changes afoot in my art-thinking, many prompted by going through the Artist's Way program.

This past week I've been busy setting up the structure for the future Studio Garden, which is sited outside the back of the garage. The garage is as long as the house, and the back half would make an excellent studio. I hope to put in French doors that lead out to the new garden, and then little by little turn it into a good working space which clients can access without traipsing through the house. We have just put up a small gazebo, which will give me some shade while I develop the plantings. Quite a few of the plants and other things are from our Miller Beach house, so it's a bit like having moved my family over from the old country or something.

07/07/07

2007-07-18T19:48:00.000-05:00

Haven't been here for a bit, as I was painting and preparing for my 52nd birthday, which was on (I'm not kidding) 07/07/07. It called for a party, my first birthday party since I was 18. Had about 30 friends and my parents, son, and daughter-in-law, gourmet focaccias and antipasto trays, and instead of gifts almost everyone brought a division to share from their garden, to help me get my own new garden going. It also served as a sort of housewarming party. Started the day with a massage at a local spa, and a bottle of Veuve Cliqot to sample before the party began! The party lasted 7 hours on the nose, and I'm glad to have had this one nice big bash. It was a day full of lively chatter and fun.

She's Back in Town

2007-06-29T16:20:00.000-05:00

Here's a 4' x 4' painting I'd done the composition for before we moved, and returned to last week, after getting impatient with working on smaller surfaces. It was great fun to do and I love the freedom to add elements in larger paintings that just don't work well with my style in smaller paintings.

At the moment am working on collages and some more paintings. At some point will be doing a large mixed-media painting which has been simmering in my head for a long time. Sometimes I think I ought to combine the two approaches, sometimes I don't.

This third week of the Artist's Way continues to illuminate. The morning pages are a great way to start the day. I get up, make a cuppa black coffee, then go into the studio, shut the door, and work in the writing nook, usually with the window open and letting in the fresh air. Takes me between an hour and an hour and a half. I guess I write slow. Three full pages in longhand every single day. It's a great way to learn to listen to one's inner creator.

The Artist's Way: One Week Down, Eleven to Go

2007-06-18T13:26:00.000-05:00

While I don't have any conflict about being creative or an artist, I have not been happy with my slow output. There's always things getting in the way, and then once those things are resolved, there are other things. Obviously there is blocking and confict on some level, which is an issue for the vast majority of artists. A couple of weeks ago I was reading something online, can't even remember what it was, and it had a link to Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way. I'd read chunks of it in the past, but as it didn't "click" with me at the time, I never really gave it another thought until following the aforementioned link and reading excerpts from it, which in turn caused me to look up the book and readers' reviews of it on Amazon.com. It seemed promising enough, so checked out a copy from the local library to give it a go.

It grabbed me from the first page and I immersed myself in the whole recovery process, doing the morning pages, and even purchasing the workbook in order to get the most out of the twelve-week process. Not only is it helping me to unblock, it's reducing my overall stress levels. Steve has been incredibly supportive of this process, probably because Cameron's approach is Jungian, and much of what she says about creativity and identity and art echoes his own approach. My posts from last summer, dealing with the genius loci, fit in with this, also. Cameron is big on synchronicity, and I find myself increasingly on board with it.

Today is the beginning of the second week of the process, and I have added another element to it, which is the entire week is to be free of domestica--the only house and family thing I am obliged to do this week is the evening meal. We are going to see how this affects my sensibilities, as I often use housewifery to avoid working on art. Not good. At the moment I am letting 'er rip by resuming work on a very large (for me) canvas, an interior scene in a coffee shop. After several small paintings, it feels great to be working large again. Working large is also more conducive to working passionately.

I've several frames, many of them around 24 x 36 or larger, requiring masonite panels, so I took their measurements and went to the local lumber yard and ordered panels cut to size, which will give my hands a major break if I don't have to struggle with big sheets of masonite. Of course it costs more, but there are worse costs, such as pain and fatigue, which I am not willing to pay at all. I'm excited about having a bunch of good-sized panels ready to turn into paintings.

Then there is my assemblage work, which has been languishing badly. I am looking for a way to work on it, and will probably use the basement, which can be left a mess and won't crowd the painting room. I can set it up in a manner similar to a jigsaw puzzle, have all the pertinent bits scattered around the center, and cover it with a cloth when I am not working so Tabby doesn't decide to make off with some of it. It'll feel great to be working on a conceptual piece again.

Cat in the Kitchen

2007-05-28T17:41:00.000-05:00

Here is the painting whose composition was mentioned two posts ago. It's the first time I've tried to paint Tabby. I've got several good photos of her which will make for good future paintings.

We've been very lucky to have cats with such excellent temperament and presence as Tabby and her predecessor Tiger. Tiger was the epitome of self-possession, comfortable in crowds and known to chase dogs big and small. Tabby, on the other hand, is the reincarnation of B. Kliban's Cat--wide-eyed and goofy, given to kittenlike antics and strange upsidedown poses. She is actually more sociable and affectionate than any dog either of us has ever had. Go figure.

This is More Like It

2007-05-28T17:26:00.000-05:00

Not only was I not finished with The Green Sweater, I reworked it almost to death. But I felt the composition was worth saving, and redid it yet again. The end result is much more what I had in mind.

Have had a rough time with arthritis for the past few weeks, had to stay off my feet as much as possible. On the bright side, it made for a lot more painting time.

It's Memorial Day, and I was hoping for some inspiring local scenes--but there were absolutely none. Nothing is open downtown, and it's quieter than a Sunday around here. The next painting is simmering in the back of my head at the moment.

Got a modest assortment of red geraniums and dark purple petunias in pots, as well as a big pot with chives, rosemary, and Italian parsley. Divided and planted clumps of Carpathian Harebells which were from my old garden. Steve and I talked about planting areas around the new birch trees, and will act on the ideas next week. There are some really neat gardens in the neighborhood, overflowing with a crazy assortment of perennials, so I can still see flowers up close and personal.

Approaching the Six-Month Mark

2007-05-23T10:40:00.000-05:00

Each week brings more of a sense of settling in, more and more quietude. It's been a lovely spring, as far as being able to get out and walk everywhere. The farmer's market on the courthouse square has begun for the season, the ice cream places are open, most of the restaurants have al fresco dining on the sidewalks, the trees have fully leafed out, and everyone's gardens are coming alive. This is a great neighborhood for gardens.

We broke our vow and succombed to buying three small birch trees, which Steve planted for me. My parents gave us a major housewarming present of a new garage door and opener, and it certainly is easier to use. The somewhat shabby and plain side of the house now looks as good as the front. There is nothing that makes me feel at home as much as planting a tree. It's like staking a claim.

Not entirely sure I am finished with The Green Sweater, the painting mentioned in the previous post, but I've put it up here. Currently working on a small piece featuring Tabby, my kitchen utensil jar, and my red dutch oven. She's a dark gray cat and a challenge for me to paint after years of painting my old ginger cat Tiger. Now that the local gardens are coming alive, I will be taking frequent "research" walks to observe and photograph the flora. So far there appear to be daylilies and irises coming up in my own yard, and peonies and black eyed susans along the back fence. Am also itching to paint some of the al fresco dining scenes; it will be an interesting challenge compositionally.

Tonight we will meet Nick and Amy at Maria Elena's for a pleasant dinner out. We've recently enjoyed brunches at Jimmy's Cafe, coffees at Espress Yourself, and the first ice cream cone of the season at Valpo Velvet. It's a bit like living in the middle of a smorgasboard.

Quietly Working

2007-04-09T09:58:00.000-05:00

There's a new painting on the easel, about halfway finished, and at the moment it is definitely one of those problem-solving works. The composition consists of a woman reading at a table. There is a vase with branches in the foreground. The woman is wearing a green sweater. I have rarely worked with green as the central color, and it has been an interesting process.

In the meantime, during our fourth month in this new residence, we continue much as before, quietly working, with occasional small house-settling activities and visits with family. We celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary with a fabulous dinner out at one of the best restaurants in town, a very short walk from here. But we also celebrated with a conscious decision to not buy anything new for one year unless it was absolutely necessary. Occasional perks from secondhand shops are okay if very occasional and very cheap. When we do have to buy something new, we will get the best quality we can afford, in the hopes that it will last. So far so good. It's time and money-saving, certainly clutter-relieving, but not so draconian that we create more difficulties than we solve for ourselves.

In time, we will likely have just one vehicle instead of two, and when that happens we will get a new garage door and opener, but not before. We have a great new refrigerator but have no need for a dishwasher, and the little cookstove that came with this house has turned out to be just fine, even kind of fun to use. I miss my old garden an awful lot, miss it more than the old house, but this yard is just fine as it is for a year. No need to spend hundreds on trees and plants and hardscaping, when over time I might find myself acquiring plant divisions from friends, corn lilies from the farm, etc., and quite possibly some of the plants from my old garden, as the new owner has some ideas of her own and might want to eliminate some of the plants which are there at the moment. I told her I'd welcome her rejects with open arms. When I was a landscape designer it was important to have everything as finished and mature-looking as possible in my own garden, a process both expensive and exhausting. Don't need to do it that way anymore.

We did manage to retrieve our remaining possessions from the old garden and shed and one of those items was the big worktable that was once in my studio. It's in pieces in the basement here at the moment, and now that the Easter holiday is past, we will probably reassemble it today. Soon we will also be able to clear the garage of the piles of cardboard and empty boxes and items destined for the city recycling compound, after which I will be able to set up the table saw and other items from the garden shed. It will be good to have those things accessible again.

One important neglected activity is to correspond with friends, which I plan to remedy today. The move, with its change of lifestyle as well as environment, has left me with a slight identity crisis, making it difficult sometimes to know how to relate to others. At least that is true for me. It is getting easier as time goes on, and as I get more comfortable in this new place, I get more comfortable in my own skin.

The green sweater in my new painting is, in this case, a lot more than just a green sweater.

The Busy Corner

2007-03-01T10:31:00.000-06:00

One of the things essential to both my nature and my art is a sense of place, as I have written before in several posts. It helps me get my bearings. Evidently my deafness plays no small part in this trait, as research as proven that background sounds create orientation and comfort for hearing people. While I do hear a certain amount with hearing aids, especially digital ones, it takes me a long time to recognize sounds, and they never quite orient me in the same way as the "vibe" of a space, it's composition, light, texture, and of course the genius loci, if any, that I often rattle on about. But it also takes quite a while to really know a place.

We've lived here nearly three months now, and it is still the early stages of getting to know the place in the deeper sense. A friend once said that it always takes at least six months before a new house feels like home, no matter how much you like it to begin with. There might be something to that. I mean, I felt at home from day one in this house, but it's going to take a little longer for me to internalize it. In the meantime it is definitely challenging to paint despite not having a truly deep sense of place yet.

It is no surprise that my first painting features a house on a corner. A sense of whirling but without much detail pretty well sums up what I feel and the little I yet know about this place. It's a bit of a throwback in style, as I relied on familiar technique to express the (internally) unfamiliar setting. In time, especially when spring comes and I can learn about the yard and begin to do some gardening, I'll get more in touch with the elemental nature of my new home and studio. It's kind of fun, though, not yet knowing what will turn up!

Finally Working

2007-02-15T14:29:00.000-06:00

The unpacking has now progressed to the point where I can get at nearly all of my art and assemblage supplies, not to mention frames. The dining room was crying out for something on the wall, and I just happened to have a simple wood frame with non-glare glass and a modest matt just the right size. I wanted something with texture and composition, interesting but not in-your-face. If I did a painting for it, I would have done a still life. So for this space I did a still life in collage, which I think may be my first 2-D assemblage.

The materials included a scrap of canvas from college art classes (marked #220), handmade paper done by my friend, the late Elizabeth Hertel, scraps of copper from previous assemblages, and scraps of burlap and trim, including a red scrap which had covered the display of jewelry from Armenia that had once been in the gallery. The colors were autumnal and suddenly reminded me that I still had the four nearly perfect pressed sycamore leaves my mother had given me two or three years ago. It was a miracle that they not only survived the move intact, but that I remembered where I put them.

We were more or less snowed in yesterday, and I worked on this piece while giant snowflakes came down outside. It is a sort of valentine for the new house. I was surprised by my initial feelings of fear in the hours before starting it. It was likely because I was working with one-of-a-kind materials. My assemblage work will be collages like this or smaller, flatter works in the future, for ease of storage and transport.

A "Life is Good" Moment

2007-01-31T16:03:00.000-06:00

Well! I've learned how to connect to the 'net at the coffe shop around the corner, so now I can write and post on my blog while enjoying a scone, a white chocolate mocha, and wait for my son to join me when he gets out of class. There's even whipped cream on top of the mocha.

Steve managed to find the cable for the camera this morning, so now I can relearn how to use the darn thing and integrate it into my working life again. The goal is to not only take pics of compositions in the landscape and pics of finished work, but to take pics of whatever might suit a post here. Steve also tweaked the appearance of this blog to allow for easier scrolling.

Spent most of the day up to this point doing laundry plus small jobs which have accumulated, such as cleaning up the spill pans on the stove, positioning clocks more effectively, putting up a smoke/CO alarm, etc. The list is long but getting smaller one step at a time.

But now it is time to take a break and I haven't been able to talk to Nick on his own for a long time.

Decisions, Decisions

2007-01-29T08:49:00.000-06:00

Hello everybody. It's been an interesting month, or at least a week and a half of it was, with the other two and a half weeks spent either in bed or on the sofa and hacking my head off. The malaise set in on the day I started setting up my new studio. Talk about frustration! It also set back my plans for a new blog format, as I am having a little bit of difficulty learning how to administer it. I don't want to use it until I feel comfortable with it. In the meantime I also need to keep on blogging, as writing this has become an essential part of my life as a working artist.

Finally started a small painting the other day and it felt really strange yet really familiar. The first painting (or several) after a long nonpainting spell are usually awkward ones while the brain readjusts to working in that special mode again. I'm interested in seeing what comes out as a result of moving to a new house in a city from my past. I want to try to post pics of the process, as soon as I can find the cable for my camera. It's in a box in the basement. I think. I hope. If you could see the vast number of boxes in the basement you would understand my tentativeness.

In a short while I will need to break off and clean out the refrigerator and defrost it, because a new one will be arriving mid-day. The existing fridge is an older model, about two steps over an ice box. It has been freezing gallons of milk solid on the main shelf and not keeping produce cold enough on the lower shelves. And everything in the freezer has freezer burn. It worries me. The shelves are not adjustable and the light is barely adequate when it decides to work. I'm sure it's an electricity hog, as well. It is perched about 7 inches up off the floor inside what must have been a pantry, a cubby hole just big enough for a not-too-deep refrigerator. It took a bit of shopping around to find a new one with the right dimensions without getting into the pricey counter-depth models. I am SO looking forward to a modern fridge with gallon jug storage in the door, lots of light, humidity controls on the crispers, a meat drawer, and a frost-free freezer on the bottom with a pull-out bin. A nice fridge is the one thing I really miss from my old kitchen, so now that is being remedied.

It has nothing directly to do with art, unless you consider it a quality-of-life issue, particularly the downtime one could get from food poisoning!

Here I Am!

2006-12-31T20:21:00.000-06:00

Well, we are finally moved, mostly unpacked, the kitchen and bathroom are fixed up, and it's time to come out of the nesting mode and return to participating in the world around me. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and Happy Birthday to Karen McConnell.

Two days ago Steve asked if I got an email he forwarded to me, and I hadn't. After a bit I started wondering about it, and decided to check that email address at the source...only to discover...get this...300 emails that hadn't made their way from the server to my inbox since October 31st. So if you are wondering where the hell I've been and why I haven't answered my emails, that's why. Many many apologies and I vow to rectify this problem in the coming week.

Another element which will be changing is this blog. Essentially it will be eliminated, and then replaced with a new, improved blog structure which is better suited for multiple users. So watch this space in the next week or two.

Another big reason for being incommunicado is a vow I have made to myself re Projects, particularly Domestic Projects. I love this new house, but the bathroom and kitchen both required customization and/or cosmetic changes. I wanted to treat the changes as part of the move, and gave myself the month of December to take care it. 2007 will not feature such projects, so help me god. 2007 will be about my work and my family and my well-being. So now, with the most important fixup jobs done and suitable for at least a year, if not longer, I don't have any excuses lurking in the form of cringe-worthy areas of the house. Just trying to be my own best parent here =;D Or my own best shrink, take your pick.

My parents and son and daughter-in-law are all very happy to have us much closer by. Steve and I are thrilled to have a smaller house in a lively commercial/residential area. We walk to restaurants, the bank, the drugstore, and walked to do our Christmas shopping. I was out doing my own shopping when who should come around the corner but Nick, cell phone in one hand, and legal documents in the other. He was delivering the papers to another legal office for his boss, and talking to Amy about where to meet for lunch. It was great--yet strange--to have the experience of running into my grown up son like this in the town where we last lived together when he was 9 years old.

I admit to some nervousness about running into people I haven't seen in over fifteen years. In my head they still look like they did back then, and I wonder if I will recognize them now. Will they recognize me? Will there be mutual shock at the changes aging brings? Then the nervousness passes, and I resume my usual mode of not really caring about it one way or the other, just gonna keep on keeping on.

Until the next blog is set up, this is likely to be the last post, so see you as soon as Steve and I can get the new blog up and running!

Amid Further Detritus

2006-12-05T08:55:00.001-06:00

In 48 hours we'll be sitting in the title office, closing on the new house. Enormous sums of money will exchange hands, sets of keys will be turned over, and life itself will undergo a seismic shift.

The past weekend was wall-to-wall people, what with the very final day of the gallery on Saturday afternoon and artists going back and forth collecting their remaining work on Sunday. I consumed quite a bit of bubbly, as we had a bottle on hand from the last reception and a couple more were brought over in the course of the day. We actually had a good time, although now we are both battling colds.

In spite of physical weariness, I managed to clear out 80% of the basement, and Steve brought up ten boxes of books and other heavy items. There's a few more things to go, but all of it is manageable. We need to keep enough space up here clear so the movers can deal with our larger items.

I am peopled-out from the weekend and just want to get on with the move. But it isn't only that which puts me in an introspective mood. Uncovering so many things long in storage can do that to anyone. At this moment I am witnessing the city sanitation guys emptying our giant trash bin, which includes all my old client files and other folders of once-relevant information. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to all that! There's still too much stuff being moved as it is, and I know at some point I will probably unload a great deal of it, too.

The real difference between now and the past (to which I've just said bye-bye as it was consumed by the garbage truck) is in the meaning of "get on with the move." In the past, it would mean a rush to get set up in the new place and start living that chapter of my life. But it doesn't mean that now. I'm "getting on with the move" right here, right now, even as I am writing this blog at a table surrounded by towering stacks of boxes. It's the process that absorbs me more than the goal. In middle age I am finally settling down enough to get more out of everything, even the awkward, in-between, messy times. I'm in a flux, but not particularly flux-tered.

This has a direct parallel in the process of art. The more I've painted and assembled and witnessed the connection between the public and my work, the easier it gets to work directly from essential state of being, from the present, from the solar plexus, in the moment. The more I do that, the less neurotic I become. And now the less neurotic I am, the more that I am able to live everyday life in the moment and not sweat the little things or become distressed by disorder. The cool thing is if it comes full circle and the lack of distress over disorder in everyday life leads to more good working time for art.

I'm curious to see if that is how it will play out. I'm also curious to see how my sense of the genius loci will play out.

The mover has just called and will start several hours earlier on Friday, but will be able to take more than originally planned. This should work out pretty well.

One Week to Go!

2006-11-30T11:04:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow someone else will be moving into my now former studio. The day after that is the last open house for the gallery, the final day for gathering artists and making sales. The day after that we start packing clothes, dishes, and bringing up anything that remains, cramming them into the dining room and lower gallery level to save on the movers' hourly rate. One week from today we start moving into our new place. And after that the buyers will start moving in here.

The past few days have been full of goodbyes to people, and while it is sorta sad, it's mostly a happy time for us. There are so many things that can go wrong with this entire deal, and yet I'm not bothered by it, the conviction that we are doing the right thing is so strong.

I've been feeling quite a bit better lately, at least in terms of ability to focus. It's not adrenaline. It's more a sense of command of my situation. People who do not have physical limitations tend to think only in terms of mental or emotional limitations. Believe me, the physical ones can indeed impact mental acuity and one's state of mind. In my case, the knowledge that I am going into a situation much more suited to me physically and temperamentally has taken away that sense of always trying to catch up or stay on top of everything. I am going to be functioning at what is my actual optimum level instead of trying to call on inner resources to operate higher than that. I can do a lot of things, but it doesn't mean that I should do them. I can deal with people, artists, customers, the public at large, but it is technically difficult and exhausting for me as a deaf person, and stressful for me as someone who greatly prefers to work alone. Likewise, this big house and garden with it's stairs and hills, and the gallery with its own physical demands has become increasingly daunting for my knees and feet and hands and neck. As much as I love it, it's getting the best of me.

The age/time factor is another element: the driving distance to my parents' house isn't going to get any shorter the older any of us get. It will take a lot off my mind. Mom and Dad seem almost as excited about our move as we are. The past week was full of sunny, 60 degree days, and they went out and prepped one of the storage bins on the farm for any extra stuff I don't don't have room for in the new house, and are loaning us the pickup truck to haul my table saw and assortment of lumber and tools and such.

Yesterday I went through several boxes of old files, covering the early days after I moved here, and client files from when I first started my landscape design business. Saw all the names and the drawings and expenses. Some names made me smile with fondness. Others made me shudder or roll my eyes. Then I chucked them all. Ancient history. Reduced inventory of baggage. I've still got the original blueprints, but the rest is irrelevant.

Speaking of irrelevancy, it's time to update the very nature of this blog. For the past year, it's been a great tool for me, adding another dimension to my studio life and helping me to chart my progress, particularly the mental progress. Now, even in spite of the chaos and inaccessibility of art materials and time, the artist mindset is still very much there and very excited about the circumstantial improvements and their impact on my working life. The blog doesn't need to be quite so inward-looking or exclusively from my point of view. To this end, I am inviting other women artists to become members of this blog and to post their own issues, experiences, and thoughts. Steve has offered to handle the technical side of things, thank heavens. Who knows where this will all lead?

Amid the Detritus

2006-11-16T10:26:00.000-06:00

It's been several gloomy days in a row, and this is yet another one--chilly, dreary, and damp. Outside the studio window the leaves are all down from the trees, even the ones in the ravine which are normally not down until December. The sculpture garden is a complete mess of brown leaves, just like this studio is a complete mess of brown and gray boxes and piles of old papers and miscellany waiting to be taken up to the trash bin.

All my art supplies are now in big labeled boxes and stacked three boxes high. The easel stands forlorn. This desk is still cluttered, with about twelve stacks of papers and notebooks and file folders, and the relationship between stacks is incoherent. About the only thing that makes sense is this computer, and perhaps also my mug of coffee. It's probably the last day I will work here at this desk, in front of this window, with this computer, and I want to savor it, gloomy day or no.

During this packing and sorting foray I've come across things which I'd brought here 15 years ago, from the last time I'd lived in Valparaiso, drawings and papers and items intended for assemblages and then forgotten as life turned out to have demands I never could have anticipated. If you have children, you will do the most direct thing for their benefit, even if it leads you well off the path you thought you were on. Of course it takes a while to correct the course.

Fortunately the conviction that I'm making changes to ease the demands on my time and body and wallet keeps my spirits up. I've only been in this studio for just over a year and sometimes I just can't believe that I'm packing everything up and making changes in my working space again. And there's the house and the garden, as well: I know every tree, every shrub, every brick, every object that I see from the window. I look down at the desk, a big door I'd stained an oak color and stenciled with a green diamond border when I first moved here. It sat atop a pair of green file cabinets and was my first dining room table. My entire family at that time sat around it for our first Thanksgiving dinner here. Except for Nick and my parents, everyone has passed away. The little boy who trimmed radishes in the kitchen that day is grown and married and has a kitchen of his own. Life is not now what it was then, and I've lived here during all those changes. I grew up here, to be honest, in the sense I'd learned to stand on my own two feet mentally, fiscally, and emotionally.

Nonetheless, the investment in this place is portable. People talk about sweat equity and attachment to a place or to the land or history, and use that as part of their strong reasons for wanting to stay put in spite of compelling reasons to pull up stakes and leave. But I've put in so much hands-on effort into every place I've ever lived, and if there is one thing I know to be true, is that the effort is part of my own inherent way of being in the world, that I couldn't not do it. So nothing, really, is wasted. It's all gone to imparting my existence upon the world, and the effort has shaped me into what I am now. It's all transient, yet it's all permanent, in the sense that I live permanently in the present, the sum total of every moment past, and thus am already contributing to the future.

So "home" is actually any place I choose it to be. Steve is the same way, and since we choose to be together, it follows that home is where each other is at and we'll imprint our presence upon the space we find ourselves in.

Of course that doesn't mean that I am not nearly overwhelmed by the demands of moving house and studio, and can't wait to get settled in!

Is it a "ta da"?

2006-11-13T16:28:00.000-06:00

Did I do good?

The Lull Before the Storm, As it Were

2006-11-12T12:36:00.000-06:00

It's a lovely, peaceful, sunny Sunday, probably one of the last in a while. This week I start taking down my office and studio, and packing things up steadily and methodically. One thing I've learned the hard way is that working in intense short bursts as was my wont in the past is a very bad idea. The consequences are painful and exhausting and even depressing. So getting started 3 1/2 weeks in advance is not a bit too soon.

I've basically put everything of import on the laptop, so I can call just about anywhere my "office" now. I'll leave the easel and paints and brushes set up, they don't take over the space too badly, but the assemblage materials and gallery supplies are going to have to go. That's fine with me. Nick & Amy have loaned me their cache of big plastic storage tubs with locking lids, which I can have for as long as a year, so I will use them and label them and if it takes me months to get my new workshop area set up, so be it.

It looks as if the young couple who want this house, Justin and Dana, are going to be able to buy it, so now we are hammering out the details, and will await the financial approval. It would be great to have another art-and-gardening family here! I've a deep conviction it is going to work out just fine, that it's part of the larger story that seems to be evolving. The genius loci is strong here, and seems to be looking out for itself quite well. I don't mean to sound all Star-Warsy about it, but there it is.

Both Steve and I picked up on the sense of the place at the new house, too. My mother did, as well, and a couple other friends did from just seeing the picture of it, including my friend Euphine, who has been a guardian angel on earth for me many times. So I do think that little house wants us there as much as we want to be there. It's a good fit. In her most recent email my mother said not to worry about Thanksgiving as she was taking care of it, but I can have Christmas at the new place, so to keep my decorations where I can get my hands on them. It's nice to have my parents as enthusiastic about our move as we are. And Nick of course is still shaking his head in disbelief, as he never thought I'd move back to Valparaiso again.

Everyone we run into asks us if we are going to have the gallery in Valpo, and seem disappointed that we have no immediate plans to do so. Maybe someday. Maybe someday we will buy a condo to live in and keep the house to use for office and gallery space. But that is a bridge to cross if and when we ever come to it. At this time my calling is to paint.

Any time now Dana will arrive with her parents, who want to see the house. I hope for her sake they like it, too.

New Site, New Look, & New Life

2006-11-06T18:36:00.000-06:00

Steve has been designing a new website for me, and if you are reading this you have already seen what he's done. I love it. He has managed to capture my whole p.o.v. and style, and seeing it on the screen is an incredible experience. I love the new logo he made out of my name, and now I want it on all sorts of printed material--business cards, brochures, a sign for my future art fair canopy, a t-shirt! I've always known in theory how good graphic design contributes to a company's image and marketing, but have never been on the receiving end of it. Let me tell you something--it's powerful. It "gels" so many intangibles, sensibilities you never realized you felt until this happens.

Tonight I need to dredge up my resume and update it. Steve will upload it to the website and it will thus be available to future collectors and employers. This is such a huge step forward, and comes at such a fortuitous time. Thank you, Steve!

A Halloween Afternoon

2006-10-31T15:05:00.000-06:00

This was, and remains, my favorite holiday, sort of the culmination of my favorite month. It was cold today but sunny and there is still much foliage and color. I will not be decorating or giving out treats this year, but that's okay. Next year we will be in Valparaiso and in an area that has tons of children and many of the houses go all out for the season. It'll be fun.

We had a marvelous time on Sunday, as we were able to get into the new house for the afternoon to do measurements and to just get the feel of the place some more. We have a pretty good idea of what room will serve which function, where our existing furniture will fit, who gets what closet, etc., and how to deal with the kitchen in its current state, as doing an overhaul is out of the question until this house sells. But the energy of the location and the layout of the place is so encouraging. Even on a Sunday afternoon it had the feeling of a "real town", in Steve's words, cars and pedestrians with places to go, and people of all ages. Afterwards we met up with Nick and Amy and we all went out for Chinese food. Nick did the driving and it was so cool to be gadding about in town on a Sunday night, where there were many window-shoppers amongst people coming and going to restaurants and the ice cream parlor, and all of it within the same neighborhood. The kids live and work within walking distance of our new house. It amazes me that this is happening, soon to be everyday life in a mere five weeks!

Today was nonetheless a good Halloween. I've been in touch with my pals from 'way back, and negotiating with a favorite young artist about buying this house. If he and his wife are able to do it, it will make us feel that this place will be in good hands, and what we've done here will continue on, a sort of legacy of art and gardens. I hope it does indeed work out.

Things are Taking Shape

2006-10-26T09:46:00.000-05:00

The day after the previous post we had an appointment with the bank to talk finances, both of us expecting very little in the way of room to maneuver. To our surprise we had room indeed, so we have gone ahead and set the date for closing on the new house, regardless of the selling status on this one. It will be difficult to make ends meet, granted, but it will also be easier physically. My legs have had it with all of these stairs and the hill, and trying to live and work in this place while keeping it show-ready is just too much. Steve is ready to get back into the swing of things, and he can take advantage of moving and setting up during the holiday season, when nothing much happens in the way of work and be ready to go in January.

I am trying to land a part-time job somewhere, in order to have a little extra income during the time we have both houses. This means really working my list of contacts for all its worth, but of course I know there are no guarantees because of my deafness. I do know that I will do some paintings during the coming month, mid-size paintings that most people can afford and are able to fit on their limited wall space. We have set the final day for the gallery forward a week, to the 2nd of December, now that we know we will be moving during the weekend of the 9th. I might actually be able to sell a few more things, which will greatly help matters. Every job-advice article and website I've read tries to give a positive spin on deaf employment prospects, and "artist" is always in the list of "things the deaf can do." Sigh. As we all know, work does not necessarily equal making a good living.

How much should one rely on faith and confidence, and at what point is it self-delusion? I know I'm not completely deluded because I sell faster than I can paint, but I also know a lot of that is because my prices are attractive and accessible. People will part with their money for art that they like, but most of them don't have much money to part with in the first place. It's called the Market. But as a deaf person who has done everything possible to be employable in a manner suitable to my skills and temperament, I also need to place myself in the hands of Life itself. I indulge in thinking that God will help me realize my God-given talent and to survive, because God also made me deaf, limiting my options to do otherwise. Yet I've seen time and again how others go about thinking the same thing and come to very bad ends.

Somewhere in here I am being stupid or uninformed or not thorough enough, a sensation similar to "not being able to put one's finger on it." I'm sure I am meant to be doing this, the art thing and the house thing, but both are sort of on a wing and a prayer. But hey, I got together with Steve in much the same way, and I have learned to trust that gut feeling because it hasn't failed me yet. So I go forward with it because it is what I can do, and there is no point in freezing in place out of fear. I spent far too many years in fear of this and fear of that and lost much valuable time for both art and just plain living. I'll do what I can to minimize the risk, but taking the risk is critical.

That's How Long It's Been?

2006-10-23T12:27:00.000-05:00

Hello, Blog. Still here in the old house, haven't sold it yet, not getting the house described in the last post, but found an even better one and our offer was accepted on contingency of selling this one first. It's on a corner lot, very close to the downtown area and in the historical district. Built in 1920, it's a one-story classic revival that has been completely updated except for the plumbing, which we'll sort out when we get there. It is zoned both commercial and residential, so Steve can hang a sign for his work. It's even within walking distance of Nick and Amy's place. It's in Valparaiso, a thriving community, and very supportive of small businesses like ours.

This past weekend we held the final opening reception for the gallery. When people first started to arrive, it suddenly hit me very hard that this was the last time, and I cried like a baby. Quite a few others cried, too. The gallery will be missed. But it was a good show, a good party, and we even made a small profit. It was good to go out with a bang. The last business day for the gallery will be December 9th, after which all the art goes back to the artists and we shut down the credit card service. I am hoping, however, that we will be out of here and in the new house by then.

It has been impossible to paint. There have been so many little things to replace and repair and so much sorting and tossing and cleaning during the past six weeks, plus setting up the last show (over 120 pieces of art to display and label), that I haven't had the time or energy or spirit left to paint. I wanted so badly to have something done for the last show, but it was not going to happen. Not painting is getting to me, and making me feel seriously out of whack, even more than this limbo of waiting for a buyer.

However, we have gone just about as far as we can with fixing up the house and sorting through 15 years' worth of accumulated stuff. Now it is just maintaining its show-worthy appearance, which we've got down to a science. I think I might actually be able to get lost in a canvas quite soon. Even if all I end up painting is a series of "limbo" images, that's okay. It's October, and the leaves are still turning in the ravine and the light is golden even on an overcast day. I love to paint in October.

Last year I participated in the National Novel Writing Month, which is November, and was planning to do it again this year. I still want to, but am not likely to. I think I will stick to painting and drawing this time, to build up my stock for next year.

We each have new websites, as Steve has changed his business name and I have one under my own name for my art, since we will be shutting down the gallery site. I am seriously thinking of adding a link to this blog on the new website. An artist's site can afford to be more personal than a business or gallery site, and it seems like a natural thing to do in this day and age.

My parents are going to need me more and more, so moving to Valparaiso will bring me much closer to them. Smaller house, fewer rings in the circus--it's exactly what is needed at this time of changes. I'm going to miss this place, where I raised my son and started out with Steve, the gardens and the gallery, the beach and the people, but I'm also looking forward to the things I'm going to have when we move.

If nothing else, it's going to be interesting!

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

2006-09-07T15:06:00.000-05:00

We have to move. After fifteen years in this house and beach town, I need to relocate closer to my rapidly aging parents. So we have put this house up for sale and have made an offer on a place half this size. So I have not only shucked off the art fair and the gallery, I am shucking off the care of this huge house and huge lot, and will likely move into a one-level home. Drastic change? Yes. Improvement? Absolutely. It has really hit home as we try to get this place ready to show--it seems like we are chasing the housework and the other maintenance work, by the time we get done with all the jobs they need doing again. The house we are hoping to get has a dedicated office area for Steve, and a large room near the kitchen for a studio. There is a two-car detached garage and much less yard and garden space, but nothing problematic. It's very airy and completely remodeled. And it's in a gorgeous neighborhood in a pretty town.

I'm going to try to keep painting through all of this--we still have one more show scheduled for October to December. But something could suddenly change those plans, just like the situation which suddenly made changing plans necessary in the first place.

Further Adventures in Decluttering

2006-08-17T17:27:00.000-05:00

The actual surface of my worktable/desk is now visible, for the first time in several moons. In the course of sorting the papers I updated the contacts list, filed away anything to do with the art fair and the gallery, plus other filing for household and medical. Once the gallery closes in January, it's gonna be so much simpler around here. It already is with the sense of finality that I filed the art fair papers. I will no doubt have to get a couple of boxes to hold files from old jobs. The most important thing to keep at hand is the contact list, which is digital to start with. The rest of it is done done done! I do look with a bit of sadness on the gallery-related things, especially the business cards. But Steve is increasing his workload by leaps and bounds and it won't do to have his workspace interrupted anymore. I am so ready to move on to just painting.

There is a Curves exercise joint just around the block from here, and I've decided I can face joining it. My weight is where I want it, but my strength is kaput. It seems like a gentle enough program, it's nearby, and it is not expensive. The 70-something woman who was showing me how the machines work could do the workout in 30 minutes without strain. I could barely do 1/3 of it and was almost sick from the effort afterwards. So Very Slow will be my motto for the first few weeks. Steve is amazed that I actually did it. Actually, so am I. I really want to have more strength in my legs and arms, protect my joints, and maybe have a little more stamina. We'll see.

Sorting Out Approaches

2006-08-17T09:26:00.000-05:00

I've spent a lot of time lately researching different approaches to painting careers, and taking stock of just what kind of art I am doing and which direction best suits it. My academic background started me off on an academic approach, one I didn't question until Steve came into my life. The academic approach was rife with angst and difficulties on many levels, and was rarely, if ever, satisfying because it only works if you are working and showing in areas which support that approach. An academic approach in isolation only feeds one's sense of alienation.

Now, my first love was music. I still love it, insofar as I am still able to hear it. I have a strong intuitive, visceral response to it, and to this day a synaesthetic response, as color and light make me hear music in my head and vice-versa. When I paint from the solar plexus, I paint muscially. Compositions are determined as muscially as they are visually. I don't do this in an academic approach, because it requires that I approach from the head, from an analytical point of view rather than from intuitive knowledge. It is much more difficult to "know" when the work is going well or has the "it" factor, and thus, for me, the process is much less satisfying.

Steve got me to shake off the academic approach and paint from a pure art-element approach. Over time it looks less and less like his work and more and more decidedly like my own as I tap into the intuitive knowledge I have rather than the academic blather and its attendant negativity from my past. Thus, the things I've been painting are completely me.

The most amazing thing about all of this is the fact that so many different kinds of people really like my work and buy it. This is the best thing that has come out of the gallery and the art fair--given a wide range of art to choose from, more people have purchased my work than any other single artist's. Of course my prices are not overly high, but I've topped $400 for a 24 x 36, and the market around here is not particularly wealthy. Thus I have gained the confidence to keep painting and to start planning to enter art fairs and other venues where art in my price range and style is likely to sell. They haven't bought my art because they feel sorry for me.

That last sentence isn't a joke. On and off over the course of my life I have been treated like the village idiot because of my deafness, and to this day there are many people who are either nervous around me or who want to patronize me, treat me like a charity case. Nick and I were talking about this yesterday, as certain parties of our mutual acquaintance are unquestionably freaked out by my communication difficulty. I can see why such a provincial attitude was prevalent in rural areas in the 50's and 60's, but in the 21st century with everyone and everything out there and in your face, it seems ridiculous. Yet there it is, and thus I still have good reason to look gift horses in the mouth.

Anyway, the musical and intuitive connection is important, and I'm trying to work it into an artist's statement, which is sadly lacking on both my resume and website. So I am going to stop researching grants and such and just focus on painting and expanding real-world connections to art fairs and galleries. Our friend Dennis Davis, who is himself a well-established artist who sells his work at the larger art fairs for thousands of dollars, has said repeatedly that my work would do well at the fairs. He's a good businessman and hard-headed about markets. If this is the art that suits me best to paint, then I'd best take it to where it's likely to be most appreciated.

Under the Big Top

2006-08-14T08:56:00.000-05:00

Having my second cuppa coffee this morning and looking over my calendar and to-do lists, and it's suddenly hit me just how far-reaching strategic decisions can be. In this case, not worrying about the gallery or art fair anymore is going to greatly cut back the time I have spent on record-keeping and bookkeeping and filing. Many artists find it hard going to keep track of their own contact lists and records, and I've been doing this not only for myself, but for Steve's design business, for the gallery, for the art fair, and for our general household. I've put as much on the computer as humanly possible, but I'm still drowning in stacks of paper every week which much be sorted, then ditched or filed. There's a mess on the top of my desk even now. Combine this with keeping the house more or less ready to show at a short notice, keeping the garden and the exterior weeded and presentable, and keeping on top of our medical needs and dietary needs, running all the errands and budget shopping, all on top of communication difficulties and frequent days of limited mobility and energy, and no it's wonder I am burned out. I just don't have the space in my head-circus anymore for so many different rings of activity.

All this activity has only been marginally profitable, so the Big Top hasn't been giving enough back to us either in terms of money or good will. So no, the Show doesn't need to Go On, not in that fashion. It's silly. Many good things have come out of it, have laid the foundation for the next phase, but it is time now to work smarter instead of harder, and I just know this is going to pay off.

Feeling the Weight Lifting & Flying Away

2006-08-13T15:17:00.000-05:00

So we had the talk about the art fair and gallery, an honest but friendly exchange of ideas and feelings. Steve was more than happy to shut down the gallery, less so about the art fair, much as I predicted. But we kept talking and rolling around some ideas, and in fairly short order we had it all sorted out: we will keep the online shop, have the one final scheduled gallery opening reception at the end of October, and announce that we are taking a year off from doing the art fair. We both need to cut back on the range of our activities, and it is clear that we must concentrate on the efforts that will help us most financially. If someone comes along and wants to take up the art fair from us, that is just fine with us. We will offer only our own art online plus just that of a few others, basically acting as dealers rather than gallery owners, which is fine, as that part keeps us networking but doesn't require quite the same time & space commitments.

Just as we came to this conclusion our friend Jack stopped by and was the first recipient of the news. He wasn't the least bit surprised, and had been wondering when we would finally burn out!

So now I am almost delirious with the freedom, knowing that I no longer have to worry about getting enough people to participate in and come to the art fair, nor do I have to worry about lining up shows for the gallery or all the expenses. I can paint! Just paint! And I am free to take on a writing assignment here and there. It's going to be easier than ever to live thoroughly in the moment.

Steve, too, feels relief that after the next show he doesn't have to disrupt his working space or schedule anymore. He can now spread out as much as he wants and needs, and is already contemplating another workstation. And he also likes the idea that we can now have more room in our lives for things that aren't art- or work-related. Jack was talking about a group of us forming a monthly Game Night and we are actually looking forward to this, where we would otherwise have been thinking it's Something Else we need to make time & energy for.

Trying to Pinpoint What's Bugging Me

2006-08-13T11:59:00.000-05:00

It's not often I get into this particular mood, a sort of unease caused by being conflicted, but when I do, it's a dilly. Basically, the conflict is that my head says to keep going with the art fair and gallery, and my heart says "no more." I did some numbers-crunching when updating the bookkeeping, and my art is more profitable than either of the other activities. However, those sales would not have happened without the other activities, particularly the art fair. But that is just the local market. The local market is small and easily saturated. A wider market is necessary, and this means more paintings need to be painted, and more time needs to be spent on getting them into areas that are not part of the local market. I only have so much time and energy, which doesn't improve with age. At this point the head and heart agree--"you should paint."

The issue is at the forefront because if we keep on with the art fair, which Steve wants to do because he feels it keeps us in the local public eye, and thus is the cheapest yet most effective means of advertising while doing some public good, we need to establish the date of the next one and start making it official and generally known. The garden club meeting is coming up next weekend, and it would be necessary to announce our intentions for next year's fair, whether we will continue to hold it at the same time/place as the garden walk, if we are changing the date or venue, or if we are even having it at all.

The conflict is bugging me, which is not good for my painting. Steve & I are going to sit down later today and talk about it some more, and I hope we can agree on something that will ease this sense of conflict.

In the meantime Nick and Amy are back from their trip and trying to settle into some kind of comfortable routine, but as he has dental surgery tomorrow and law school starting up the week after this, it might be a while yet before they know any sort of equilibrium. We are all such creatures of habit.

The Dust is Settling

2006-08-09T15:02:00.000-05:00

As it turned out, I sold 5 of the 8 new paintings and could have sold two of them several times. So any doubts about the appeal of the new work can rest. I've started on a new one, quite large, but it had to be interrupted because of a wedding in the family.

Nick and his Amy got married last Friday and it was a wonderful wedding, not too large, not too small, both traditional and yet laid back. I saw people I haven't seen in fifteen or twenty years, especially Nick's friends from childhood. Our own group was small, just my parents and our friends Al and Alice and Jack and Paul, but we had a good time. I got all dressed up and felt I looked my best, and I got to dance with the groom--for the first time ever, actually, as neither one of us is a dancer in the traditional sense. It was all very exciting and very emotional, and so painting was not going to happen until my brain settled down and my body recovered from the running around and the high-heeled shoes.

Just as the SUV broke down right before the art fair, the car broke down right before the wedding. It is ironic that we had to use the car for hauling things for the art fair and the truck to drive in formal clothes to the wedding, but that's the way it went. I think the vehicles were experiencing sibling rivalry. Anyway, we just got the car back today, and both vehicles are running well. The expense was huge for both and I've decided to put off getting a new pair of glasses for a while.

Apart from that, I feel quite content and optimistic, probably because I'm painting directly from my heart, because Nick has grown into a wonderful young man, and even my parents can see that all really is well in terms of the fundamentals. A big part of me wants to lose the gallery and the art fair, in order to keep things as simple as possible, but I might have to compromise on that. We'll see how things go.

That Was Then, This is Now

2006-07-20T16:12:00.000-05:00

Hard to believe it's been over a month since posting here, but it's been jam-packed with art-related activities. The Art Fair was this past weekend, and in the end I produced eight new paintings, the last of which I finished at 8 p.m. the night before the fair opened. We did the best we could to minimize the fair's impact on our time and energy, particularly by reducing the size of our own booth and offering only our own new art instead of others' and our larger things. Instead of our previous pegboard walls I created lightweight mesh ones out of hardware cloth and poplar 1 x 2's. Each wall panel was 3' wide, which turned out to be a blessing, because the transmission went out on our SUV three days before the fair, and we were forced to haul everything in the trunk of the car. The old 4' wide pegboard panels would not have been possible to transport.

The rest of the fair still demanded a lot of attention, the publicity, the updating of the artists, the security and parking and facility maintenance, just everything. Both our food vendors pulled out the night before the event, one from a death in the family, the other because he had just opened his restaurant and was short-handed, and could only provide an ice-cream cart at best. I persuaded him to at least provide hot dogs and he complied, rustling up whatever help he could find and bringing over grills and hot dogs and buns, so it wasn't a total fiasco.

I sold two out of my eight paintings, so that wasn't bad, especially considering only half the people were there that we had go through last year. The heat and humidity was at dangerous levels both days. Even the long-established art fair the next town over had far less traffic and sales. So sales-wise I did well, and the comments were incredibly encouraging. I'm touching a nerve with quite a few people, even if they cannot afford to buy any art. Steve was impressed at the reception my work got, but not surprised.

It looks as if a gallery in Indianapolis is considering selling my work, based on a visit last night from a fellow who had seen my work at the fair. It will be interesting to see what comes of this, and what the terms are. Of course I am excited that others like my work enough to carry it in their gallery, not to mention flattered as hell. He even went through my archives and looked at my old work, just to get a sense of where I'm coming from and how my work evolved. Looks like I will soon need to get back to the easel, as at least two more paintings are spoken for and I'm running low on new "stock." It seems so strange that I might actually be on the road to making a go of it.

Funny How Things Sort Themselves Out

2006-06-18T09:50:00.000-05:00

There were a few days in the last week when I attempted to work on some small garden-friendly sculptures for the art fair. I have this idea for garden totems, first conceived when writing my novel last fall. But while I am convinced the concept is good, the execution was a different matter altogether. Not only do I not have the strength and lack of discomfort to wield hammer and chisel, I don't even have it with power tools. There may be tools out there I could use, but they seem to be very expensive, costing more than I am likely to make even with 100% sales. So there I was, with a concept stuck in my head and wanting to come out, and the materials at hand, but without the physical ability to accomplish it. Kinda like the time in college and after, when my hearing loss went from severe to profound, that dividing line between being able to use a telephone with amplification and not being able to use it at all.

Today is Father's Day and we will be visiting my parents and having steaks on the grill. Nick will be going with us, so we can also visit with him on the drive there and back. While at the farm I will rummage around for assemblage bits (at Mom and Dad's invitation) and perhaps try out Dad's bandsaw, a tool suggested by a clerk at Lowe's who was trying to figure out what I could use to at least do the rough cutting on the wood posts I am using as the core of the totems. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, it doesn't. The only reason I am pushing this is because the art fair isn't far off and I have the complete ideas for them in my head, plus nearly all of the materials at hand. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother. Honestly.

I brought this up to Steve a couple of days ago during one of our pleasant coffee breaks on the deck. It is as if my brain, adjusting to a new sort of way of being (must everything be labeled a "handicap?"), is allowing me to settle down enough to specialize--and in this case to specialize in painting. My 3-dimensional urges seem to be satisfied by my gardening hobby. When I try to do more, the pain and fatigue set in. Steve not only agreed that this was happening, but gave me examples of others this happened to, such as Charles Darwin and Marcel Proust. While I certainly do not for a moment consider myself a genius, I do feel the utter truth of the syndrome in my own modest life.

And talk about confirmation: I sent the attached image in an email to my parents to give them an idea of the sort of thing I have been painting lately. They are not particular fans of my work in the past, so I only sent it as a way of staying in touch. To my surprise, mom liked it so much she asked if I could do a portrait of Dad and his tractor in this manner. I am flabbergasted!

The Bottom Line

2006-06-02T10:36:00.000-05:00

My top priority right now is getting art done for the art fair. Everything, including the fair itself, takes a back seat to that. If I can just keep my mind and effort focused on that for the next six weeks, I will have a nice body of work for that event and beyond. So I set my goals: seven garden-friendly assemblages and seven paintings, all of various sizes. I hope to have more, but that will be enough, seven new works in each medium. I have three paintings so far, although two need further work. No assemblages as of yet, but we will see. If my body and mind balk at doing assemblages, why then I will keep painting.

I do not currently spend enough concentrated time on production, so that is one thing that has to change. If I simply make the decision to not get involved in busywork, dinner parties, and large house and garden projects, it should be possible for me to have a decent production of work. Non-working time can still be working time if I am thinking or reading something relevant to work. Working in the garden or driving to the grocery store is inane enough to allow me to think about compositions.

No matter what I read or think or learn about other artists and things going on in the area, what I would like to achieve or do, it is irrelevant unless I have product to show for my time and intent. And that’s the bottom line. It doesn’t get any more real than that. The sales and the resume cannot happen without first having the product. This needs to be the summer of the product.

Ideally, I’d like it to be the year of the product, but we will see how things pan out at the end of summer. If I focus on product now, however, it increases the likelihood that the rest of the year can be about product, too. And after that, I'd stand a good chance of actually achieving something.

Sometimes the Little Things are Really Big Things

2006-06-01T09:35:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I needed to stop at the local Hobby Lobby for a tube of Cadmium Yellow Medium and was pleasantly surprised to see that the store now stocks Daler-Rowney paints. Steve brought a few tubes of this brand with him from England, and they had a lightness and fluidity which reminded me of painting with oils. But he prefers to work with jars of paint and the only way we could get that brand in jars was online for high prices plus shipping, so we never replenished the Daler-Rowneys. I grabbed their Cad yellow plus tubes of Process Yellow, Cyan, and Magenta, and used them to finish and glaze the painting I was working on. I completely fell in love with them, and Steve encouraged me to replace all my paints with the Daler-Rowneys. He didn't have to twist my arm to get that done!

The change is thrilling. It's easier than ever to get the happy colours I love, and the process of painting with these acrylics is the closest I've ever come to the musicality of painting with oils. There is much less drag on the brush and colour depth is much easier to control, preventing "dead" paint areas, even with the earth tones. I'm going to rework a painting from a couple of months ago, gessoing over the dead areas and redoing them with the new paints. The painting's composition is excellent and thus worth rescuing.

Funny how something so minor as metal tubes of paint can impact the larger art process. They appeal to my frugality, as it is easier to squeeze out the last bits from a metal tube as opposed to the vinyl ones. The intensity of the pigment means a little can go a long way, especially the way I paint.

We went to the library yesterday afternoon to get a change of reading material and the librarian suddenly looked up at me and said, "I saw one of your paintings at my sister-in-law's." Small world! But as we chatted I recalled the painting and the buyer. Bit by bit I will achieve World Domination, huh? The aforementioned painting is in the owner's bathroom, incidentally. My art as a special sort of contemplative device....gotta love it!

The local resale shop beckons me every now and again because they offer lots of craft castoffs and leftover bits at prices like ten cents a bundle, plus homemade knicknack shelves every now and again. It's a gold mine for assemblage material. Last week's foray produced large and small wood boxes, frames, a needlepoint frame, office trays, several doll and craft bits, boxes of test tubes and microscope slides, and a bundle of strange red plastic threads which surely will find their way into something equally strange from my imagination. $18 bought all of this plus two like-new sleeveless summer tops. Working from already-made boxes and framing devices saves a lot of wear and tear on my hands, not to mention time and money. And what I do spend goes to charity, which is an extra bonus.

The Art Fair is shaping up and we already have enough participants to make for a nice event. Steve and I have agreed that this year we will only set up one tent and display only our own art, to cut down on our workload and increase our chances of making some money. He has suddenly started painting again, and has produced several true abstracts, of a lightness of spirit that is appealing. We have both agreed that we are going to paint what we like, but also what we like to look at, and sell them for reasonable prices. There is a time and place for the political and the dark, but there is also a time and place for the joyful and beautiful and fun.

Knowing That I'm On To Something

2006-05-23T07:32:00.000-05:00

We had an Open House Sunday for the gallery this past weekend, and during the week before the preparations were steady but also quite manageable--I actually did a new painting during all of this, and a good one, at that. Steve worked and also did ALL of the housework. He has always done a lot of the housework, but this time he was very quick yet thorough and it was clear that his diet and exercise routine are having a positive impact. The vibe around here is palpably more energetic and yet more relaxed.

It was a good Open House, started off slow and then built up as the afternoon progressed. Of course the best part for me was selling one of my paintings ("White Carnations") and getting rave reviews for the new one, plus interest in my assemblages. The new painting is a balance between my pre-Steve style and the style I've been working in as a result of his suggestions to help me break out of my academic rut. This is a common occurence for artists, to muddle along in one way, become frustrated with it, suddenly work in a different style altogether, and then ultimately find the most confidence and appeal in a merging of the two.

This is where the genius loci comes back in, because that's the point from which I am working. There's much beauty and love in the world as well as ideas and ugliness, but ideas and ugliness are not the only things to depict in art. I am a domestic creature and my life has finally enabled me to be a happy soul. Who knows how long it will last? But while it lasts, that is the point from which I am working.

Keeping One's Nerve

2006-05-06T09:26:00.000-05:00

It's one of those times after a change in the modus operandi when you catch yourself worrying about things as you would have done before the change. In this instance I'm worrying about not being efficient or agrressive enough about the gallery and the art fair, and then it takes me a few moments to get back into the new mode, which is to pull back from them a bit and stay focused on my own work. My previous sources of income are now eliminated: apartment rental income & landscape design income. But I still want to see if I can make a go of it as an artist.

I do take responsibility for a lot of intangibles, such as contributing to the general flavor of life around here. I'm aware that my attitudes and preferences often make or break seeing opportunities, following up on possibilities, staying focused, or being scattered, all of which have an impact on Steve and his own work. We are a team, even when we are working separately, picking up on one another's unspoken inclinations. During times like these it is important that I stay focused and strong and clear and minimally ambivalent about what I want and what is most important. Crumpling into worrying and dithering isn't going to do either one of us any good. Onwards and upwards!

A Green and Rainy Glade

2006-04-25T09:02:00.000-05:00

It's finally raining, which is good for the garden and good for me, as I'm forced to be back indoors and catching up with indoor things--emails, blogs, bookkeeping, housework, and maybe even some reading. Ordered a couple of guides to surviving as an artist, don't know if they are worth it yet. In the midst of working in the garden I also made an assemblage, another bunny, this time an Art Bunny, and it is sitting on the front porch by the sign for the gallery. For some reason I had saved the big fat round brushes I'd used in college, and one of them is too stiff to rescue. The "bunny" is now "wielding" it in one paw, and holding a large ancient tube of Liquitex Titanium White in the other.

The arbor over the deck is now finished, and the lattice panels on the top are in place. I'm learning to tread that balance between under-activity and over-activity. Painting lattice is something I always used to do by hand, very precisely and wasting little paint. But this time I accepted even before starting that neither my hand nor my back--nor my schedule--would be happy this way, and thus I spread several old painting tarps over the back yard, lay the five 2 x 8 lattice panels on the tarps, and whitewashed them with a long-handled roller brush, as I would a floor. And just one good coat. And on just one side, the side you see when you're sitting in the arbor. If I feel like it, I'll do the "roof" side next spring. So for once I've come out of a project intact and still doing art and not crippling myself in the process. And it looks just fine. Yes, one could quibble over the details, but I have no more room in my life for quibbling. It's more important to get on with the essence of things. Easing up and allowing imperfections is friendlier, as long as they are doing no harm, of course. I think the trendy term for it from a few years ago was Wabi Sabi, although I don't recall how it translates.

Anyway, in the middle of all of this I sold one of my conceptual assemblages, the "War Piece." It was a thrill, of course, as it was one of my serious pieces as opposed to a fun/funky one. It's gone to a good home, the office of a grant writer who is also an antiwar activist. Another important development is Steve taking up on my recent idea to have an Online Shop for both ourselves and the gallery. He has been setting up one for one of his clients, and it occurred to me that if he did one for us, he could use it as part of his web design portfolio. The more we brainstormed it, the more we liked the idea and the idea of bringing on board some of the artists we are happiest working with. We will also carry some high-end crafts on it, more than we would in the gallery itself, things suitable for a shop. We've taken the plunge and signed on with a secure server for a year, at the cost of $250. We've already got a merchant service setup for credit cards, so the extra $20 per month to hopefully increase sales and commissions seems like a good idea.

While making the bunny for the front porch I realized that I'm actually beginning to run out of "junque" for my assemblages. So I've put out word among friends at the coffee shop that I'm willing to take some of their broken and discarded bits of miscellany, especially the smaller things. I'm going to be making several smaller funky assemblages for the Art Fair, in the under $100 range. Serious art doesn't do as well as the funky in this art fair, and that's fine by me. I really enjoy making these things and they are still very much identifiably my style. My friend Alice is retiring from her stained glass business and is in the process of moving things out of the shop. She gave me a small box of wonderful brass and copper bits, including antique doorplates and also a deep orange glass ball. They were things she was saving for herself, but she doesn't think she will ever have the time to do anything with them. It's bittersweet, in a way. She's been fighting breast cancer for several years now.

Since the last post the ravine has gone from bare to completely green. In the rainy light it looks magical as opposed to gloomy, as if the new green leaves hold a slight phosphorescent quality. It is supposed to get to nearly freezing tonight, then warm up again, providing some pleasant weather for working on the assemblages. But today is today, and now I must do today's things.

The Genius Loci, Step 2

2006-04-17T09:17:00.000-05:00

This is the day after Easter, and in the past ten days we have had fabulous weather, inspiring not only my own expected urges to work in the garden, but Steve's as well. The model home developers had a pile of leftover lightly-used lumber, and told us to take as much as we wanted. So we did and thus we came into possession of several 16', 12', 10', and 8' boards of various dimensions, both treated and cedar. My mind immediately went to "ARBORS!" and Steve, who pays attention more than most men, also thought along those lines, knowing that I've wanted an arbor over the deck for many years.

He has been losing weight steadily, and has been going on almost-daily five-mile vigorous walks up and down the dunes along the lake. The weather was so nice and it made him feel even better to be working outside, so we put up the arbor over the deck, and made a smaller one for the end of the path to the mailbox. He also took it on himself to wash the front of the house, which was still grubby from the dust from our neighbor's earth-moving project last year. He is currently working on refashioning the sections of lattice screening that used to be on the deck into a screen for the trash and recycling bins, which have been moved from one side of the property to the other. The bins have been next to the office and gallery entry, which just isn't professional, and he is very happy to have them out of there.

I fixed dinner for my parents and Nick and Amy yesterday, and everything tasted good in spite of some scheduling screw-ups on my part. I made a ham, our first in months and months, and made scalloped potatoes in the new slow cooker. Mom brought a big vanilla pudding for dessert, which made such a nice light change from the usual pie. The conversation was lively the whole time, and we got some more details about the plans for the wedding. Everyone left by 3 p.m., and we were able to sit together and watch the first two episodes of "Tales of the City" on dvd, a program that Steve and our friends said I would really like, but which I hadn't seen before. They were right.

Today is an art day, and I plan to make one of my garden sculptures. There were several 4 x 4 pieces in the aforementioned lumber pile, and I'm going to make several small and medium-size pieces for the Art Fair. This first one, though, will be fairly large, as it is going to go on the front porch where the rocking chair used to be (the rocker is now on the main deck under the arbor, with the rest of the deck chairs).

This, finally, gets to the part about the genius loci. The spirit of the place is working through us both, and the results have been immediately evident, and completely positive. It's also drawing people here like a magnet, and on several occasions (already!) there have been groups of people spontaneously gathered under the arbor sipping coffee and debating current politics. And I'm talking about businessmen, not slackers or hippies or eccentrics. Imagine that--businessmen spontaneously gathered under an arbor in a cottage garden and feeling completely at ease. Something is Afoot!

Post-Opening Exhaustion

2006-04-03T09:58:00.000-05:00

The past 2 1/2 weeks have been dedicated to--no, I take that back, they were consumed by preparations for the gallery's Spring Show opening reception this past Saturday. It was a very successful show in the sense that I did a good job with the hanging, Steve and I got through it without fighting, Jack and Paul and their friend Tom did a knockout job with the food and flowers, we had an excellent turnout in spite of other popular events going on in the area at the same time, and we sold over 20 pieces of art. The downside is that we are both exhausted, I can barely walk or hold my coffee cup, and we have a profit of $7.58. But it is over with and we don't have another one scheduled until October 28th, which is a relief beyond words.

The exhaustion was not strictly caused by the gallery prep but by the additional activities we took on--replacing the old cheap vinyl miniblinds with heavy plantation blinds in the gallery and the "library" and lavatory, moving a heavy armoire out of the dining room and up the stair to the dressing room, bringing up my gardening books from storage in the basement to the library, and then, to top it off, hanging a large number of works in the show in a $550,000 model home in time for it to be photographed for a national publication, then taking them down and putting them back up in time for our opening reception. Today they need to go back to the model home for the next several months. It's good advertising, good public relations, but boy we are pooped. In between all of this we have had to write a lot of new copy for press releases, general information, design fliers and posters and print them, and at the moment I am between coffees as I try to clear the mental fog enough to write the price list for the paintings going back to the model home. It's not something I want to make a mistake with.

Nick and Amy have decided to go ahead and get married this summer, and have picked August 4th for the date. Thank god we decided to not have so many opening receptions any more. As it is, their wedding is only three weeks after the Art Fair. But we are scaling back our personal involvement in the art fair this summer, bringing only half as much as in previous years and lining up a lot more physical help, so that should keep things a little less overwhelming. Of course thinking about all of it at this moment when I am wiped out from the past half month is bound to make things look more challenging than they will actually be when the time comes. You can tell from that last sentence that I am already trying to implement Mind Over Matter techniques.

I did get a couple of hours in the front garden during one warm afternoon, clearing out the decomposed stalks and leaves that had blown in from other yards, and was encouraged to see so many of my transplants coming back to life in their new home. I don't think I have ever looked forward to spring as much as I have this year. All I want to do is be quiet and garden and paint and feel the sun in my face.

But obligations call and before I do anything more I must get that list written up for the model home artwork. More coffee!

An Epiphany?

2006-03-18T17:55:00.000-06:00

Spent a couple of days flat on my back with a cold this past week, which had the not-unwelcome benefit of giving me more time to think than do, so I got a lot of thinking done, along with the fun of immersing myself in a ton of gardening magazines. This diet doesn't allow for the various comfort foods that I'd normally indulge in when I'm not feeling well, so I padded out the herb tea and orange juice with magazines, and it worked just fine.

Anyway, all the thinking led to the realization that everything I'm doing is tied together, that there is no separating my art from my garden or from my other life elements, and I mean this not only in the sense of the origins of the art, but in the very fact of being an artist. And to this effect I realize that I no longer aspire to be a certain sort of artist, in the manner that I would make someone's landscape look like a certain kind of landscape. Instead, I'm an artist of whatever organically emerges from me and my efforts, the same way that my garden is emerging organically from the site and the genius loci.

I no longer care whether my art is Serious or Whimsical, Disturbing or Cute. I don't give a hoot. What comes out comes out, be it craft or painting or flower. In this way I'm most fully who and what I am, and that, of course, is what being 50 is all about--others' expectations of you no longer seem to have quite the same weight, the same impact. I can, and have done, all manner of work and art (and decorating, and dressing, and cooking, and mothering, and studying), but these days things are shaking out into their essentials.

And that is both liberating and satisfying.

Brain-Shifting

2006-03-07T12:14:00.000-06:00

No art work to report since the last post, but with fairly good reason: I ordered the tax software for both business and personal, learned to use them, and did both state and federal sets. Took the whole lot to my accountant for her perusal, and she was stunned, not only that I'd finally took the initiative to learn how to do all our taxes, but that I'd also done them right. She was very proud of me. We also covered some things which will change as far as expenses and deductions go for this year, and so here I am, ready to mail off the 2005 taxes, and with the 2006 books and files ready for action.

March is the National Novel Editing Month, so I've begun to read the novel I wrote back in November, and to see if I have the chops to edit it into something worth others' time to read. I don't know if I can detach enough from it, because when I read it I know exactly what I'm trying to convey, and I honestly can't say if it will make sense to anyone else. I'm halfway through it, will probably read the other half this afternoon. There are some sections which obviously need rewriting, places where I summarize rather than show, which makes for dry reading. Then I'll foist it on Steve and brace myself for his reaction.

We've had some interesting conversations lately. Last weekend we laid the groundwork for a mid-September event here at the gallery, something very different than the usual opening receptions. Then today I expressed my disappointment in myself for not getting more art done and feeling as if all my other chores and jobs just snowball and never seem to become stable or routine. It seems like every time I turn around we have had to change this, change that, whether it is the house or the garden or the work or the studio or the pots and pans! I really like having very set parameters in my life, inside which I can do my own thing--i.e., my artwork. But the parameters are always in a flux. I guess I'd like to have LESS change in the framework of everyday life so that it doesn't drain so much mental or physical energy from me. He agreed that the past four years have been a time of constant change, but that it does seem to be coming to a natural end--we have finally gotten the house laid out to its best advantage for us and our work, and it's hard to imagine what other major changes could be made.

In the past two months, I've changed the way I cook, the way we eat, the way I bank, the way I bookkeep, the way I pay bills, the way I shop, and the way I do laundry and generally darn near everything. So we think it's a good idea if I just coast a while and live in the moment. If I feel like painting, I'll paint, if I feel like cleaning the stove, I'll clean the stove. It takes a little longer to adapt to change than we sometimes give ourselves credit for.

Surveying My Domain

2006-02-12T10:59:00.000-06:00

It's Sunday morning, the day after the annual Valentine's Dance at the pavillion. It's normally a fun time, but this year the band was freaking awful and the food was even worse and scantier than usual. The organizers are going to have to do some serious rethinking about this event. The pre-set at our friends' house was good, though, as always.

At the moment I'm enjoying my second coffee and the view of the snow-covered back garden, and writing this on my big computer, not the laptop. I've spent the past couple of days moving my office from its top-floor location in my son's old room to down here in the studio, along with all the attendant files, paper, software, bills, and anything and everything to do with household and gallery bookkeeping. My legs just couldn't take the constant up and down three stories between studio and and office. There is just no getting away from the need to multitask in my life and in my brain. I might as well make it more convenient.

So far it is working out just fine. My parents have a favorite story about my childhood defining trait, which was to sit on the floor in the middle of the room and have ALL of my toys around me in a circle. I'd play with this one for a bit, then turn and play with that one, and often mixed them up in a complex activity which seemed to make perfect sense to my little head, if not to anyone else's. It looks as if I have not outgrown this tendency. Now I am about to plot how to find an affordable way to have my piano moved down here from the gallery. With that, my Domain will be Compleat. I miss my piano. Up there in the gallery it is right under the stairs to Steve's office. I really only play for myself, after all, and some days I play better than others, depending on how my hands feel. So if it is down here with me I can tickle the keys without self-consciousness or worry about disturbing Steve or anyone else, especially when he is on the phone. It's always been an essential part of my creative process.

The old office is now given over to extra clothing storage, laundry sorting, ironing, and sewing machine/mending, a sort of walk-in closet/utility area. It is desperately needed, as our closets are miniscule and our bedroom not much bigger. These changes have caused some differences in the flow of my routine, but I'm getting used to it, as is Steve. It's good to have every bit of space in this house fully functional and not crammed to the gills.

I've also decided to be a brave soul and attempt to do our taxes, using software which will interface well with my bookkeeping program. I love my CPA but we really can't afford her this year. I will do the best I can with the taxes and then turn over the business one for her perusal. This way her fee is more manageable for us. Most businesses do this, anyway. I have come a long way from my receipts-in-a-shoebox days!

Taking No Prisoners

2006-02-05T10:17:00.000-06:00

Woke up in a grim mood this morning. Brushed teeth, washed face, startled myself when I looked in the mirror, and saw I had one of those if-looks-could-kill faces going on. I don't even know why, unless perhaps it is the Bad Ovary acting up. The other one is pretty easy-going, never makes waves, wouldn't even know it was there, barely shows up on xrays and sonograms. But the Bad Ovary is another kettle of hormones altogether. Most of the time HRT keeps it from wigging out, but in these days of swinging hormonal balances....

This might sound like something out of Woo-Woo Land, but I think the ovaries are now shutting down for good and I'm entering proper dowagerhood. It could explain all the fatigue and dry mouth and eyes and skin, going through an adjustment period of sorts. It's just a feeling I have.

Nick announced his engagement to Amy yesterday. It comes as no surprise since they have been together longer than Steve and me. But it's a bittersweet moment. Time flies, and all that. I wonder how my parents are going to react to the news. I do know that I am happy Nick does not seem to be troubled by the idea of marriage, especially after my fiasco years with his father.

Had another small project to tackle today--an electric outlet in the kitchen went on the blink and had to be replaced. Given the ancient and eccentric wiring in this house, a grim mood is exactly what was needed to tackle it. So far so good.

Yesterday one of the artists came by to pick up his work, and another is coming later today to take down his installation. Then it will be time to line up the publicity for the next show, which will open on April Fool's Day. At the moment Steve is returning the gallery to it's original casual "beachy" feel, a happy jumble of works by a variety of artists mixed together with our own work and even work in progress. I'm leaving him to it, and looking forward to the results.

I told him that I think I'm entering my dowagerhood, and he readily agreed, as he has noticed a collection of subtle changes in me in the past few months, as if I have suddenly aged more quickly. There's nothing that can be done about it, it's all part of the circle of life. I guess I just wasn't expecting to have happen to me what didn't happen to my mother until she was past 60. But I'll get over it.

One Down, Innumerable to Go

2006-02-03T17:15:00.000-06:00

Feeling a little better about the art now that I've completed that first painting and gessoed the masonite for the second. Too tired to actually begin on the next painting, but I can at least do the pre-painting, the bit where I tap into the sensibility of this moment in time. That's always where the paintings come from, anyway.

Bought a fresh gallon of gesso and some slightly better quality paints yesterday, plus a new pad of good drawing paper. Stopped at the local Goodwill and found a simple weaving loom from the 70's. It's of course missing some parts, but I think I can work around that. I'm not looking to weave fabrics but to make bits and pieces for assemblages, so I actually want something that is more art than crafts. Having my own uniquely-jerryrigged loom ought to keep it that way.

Groundhog Day(s)

2006-02-03T12:21:00.000-06:00

Sometimes my life feels like the same day over and over and over again--caught up in the trivia that piles up and needs attention, and struggling to get it out of the way so that I can turn my back on everything and get down here in the studio to work. It's the same old story, isn't it? And now I've run out of art to sell....

The grant application was finished and sent off, after all, and while I do not expect to get it, I feel quite a lot of satisfaction at having done it. Steve's help was invaluable. He showed me the method he has used in the past and it is very similar to methods I've used with working in groups, so the logic of the process was immediately clear and after that I was able to do the rough draft fairly quickly, sleep on it, then refine it and do the budget and timelines and documention. It was a very simple application as grant applications go, so it was a good one for my maiden voyage.

The doctor called in the middle of all of this to tell me that my tests were the picture of health. While this was great news, it begged the question of just what in the world is going on with me. It isn't all in my head because Steve and our friends have seen it happen. So maybe it was a virus of some sort. The doctor wants me to take some supplements which help convert carbs into energy more efficiently. If this is still going on in a few weeks I might schedule a stress test.

I had planned to visit my parents today, but they told me to stay put and get some painting done. Yes Mom, yes Dad! As it turned out Dad had funerals to go to and Mom came down with a cold and just wants to rest.

I had a pleasant surprise the other night when we were on our way to a local business association gathering. The owner of the other gallery in town had purchased the Angel Bunny at the charity auction, and it was in her shop. Steve said she puts it out on the doorstep to the gallery every day and takes it in at night. It was flattering as hell, and I was glad to know what happened to it. It was a lot of fun to make.

First Time in 14 Months

2006-01-29T13:19:00.000-06:00

That's how long it's been since I last painted. I did three assemblages in 2005, but no paintings. I finally started one the other day, and it felt like coming home.

Of course, this being the way life goes, it was interrupted by a doctor's appointment on Friday which left me exhausted, since I had to fast for a range of blood tests. This weekend I'm experiencing dramatic ups and downs in energy levels. I'm working on the painting, it is going well, but my stamina is in the pits. The test results will come back in a day or two, and we are pretty sure the diagnosis will be definitive, as it is clear something is wrong. I am exhausted after mild exertion, to the point of going very pale and cold, and my skin, eyes, and mouth have been exceedingly dry for quite some time and getting worse. The diet has quieted the joint pain and eliminated a lot of water weight, but the other problems are still quite pronounced. So I am sort of in waiting mode.

Our friends called up this morning to invite us over for dinner tonight and I am grateful. Steve made dinner for us last night. Two days without worrying about meal prep helps me to get some painting done in spite of the fatigue.

Anyway, the painting seems to be taking up where I left off, which was compositions of somewhat abstracted people in somewhat less abstracted settings. I gravitate toward this method because it offers both familiarity and mystery, and allows me to depict the mundane without the sentimentality which often plagues domestic or simple themes. The scene in this current painting is also very different, being a street scene, as opposed to an interior or a dream space. As of this time it seems to be attempting some kind of comment on the desire for security among unknown variables.

I am also still trying to formulate a grant proposal, but so far not having much luck with it. It's my own fault, but I am not giving up yet. I've also been reading a lot of articles online about developing a career in art, and saving the ones I like in a folder. A computer in the studio is a wonderful thing. I've downloaded RealPlayer and can now play classical music for free from an online radio station while I paint. I can hear the treble pretty well if I crank up the volume, and it's very soothing.

Yesterday at the coffee shop an acquaintance who bought one of my paintings a couple of years ago said she is moving to a new apartment and wants to commission me to do a big painting for her new space! So that makes twice in one week people have expressed a desire for my work--it gives me that little extra confirmation at a time when money is tight and health is iffy.

Ars Interruptus

2006-01-23T14:25:00.000-06:00

The gessoed panel is still sitting there on the easel exactly where I left it at the last post, three weeks ago today. Two new things in the studio: an electric battery charger and a giant rosemary plant, both indicative of what's been going on around here.

I'm getting a little too heavy for my knees, and am determined to get this weight off before it gets any worse. I did a so-called arthritis diet a few years ago and it did help somewhat. Steve, too, wants to lose weight and so overhauling our cooking arrangements has been the project of the month. We've replaced suspect pots and pans with ones much safer to use, acquired a yogurt maker, joined an organic food co-op, and set up a nice-sized indoor herb garden. I've done this kind of thing before, when my son was little, even made his baby food from scratch, so it's a bit like going back 20-odd years in time. But the change has had a dramatic effect on both of us for the better.

In the meantime, though, little things started breaking or malfunctioning--parts on the stove, the fridge, both cars, etc. The cars have finally been sorted out, the part has come in for the stove, and all is manageable, except, of course, that it has all taken up a lot of time, time which I won't get back.

Thoughts on the passing of time have naturally occurred more frequently, as yesterday was my father's 80th birthday. Seems like yesterday that he was my age. He certainly doesn't look or act 80. But then at 50 he could run circles around me when I was only 20. My mother put together a nice surprise birthday party for him, and she reports that he was very pleased by the whole thing.

I have had art-related activities, though, the most significant being the state Art Association's grant-writing workshop for individual artists. I think I can put together something for my maiden grant-writing voyage. I've no great hopes of winning a grant, but I want to at least get started in the process of writing them. I did make some nice connections at the workshop, particularly with a rep from the state who does a lot of work with disabled artists.

Steve has put my portfolio on the gallery website. This move, long overdue, was triggered by a regional art event similar to the Cows on Parade in Chicago a few years ago. A portfolio was required for artists submitting their names for consideration by the committee and sponsors. We've both submitted our names. The selected artists will get a small stipend for their work.

We were recently contacted by a non-profit preschool for donations of art for a fund-raising auction. This is nothing new for us, as we frequently make such donations to various fundraisers, but this time was unusual for me because the organizer came to the gallery and studio and made a point of telling me that she is a fan of my work and has been following it for some time. While making a selection from what I made available for donation, she picked out one of mine and asked when it was done, and expressed familiarity with some of my other work from various "batches." This was quite a new experience for me and of course terribly flattering, to think that there is someone out there other than a friend or family member who is following my work.

If feels good to finally be back in the studio and thinking about art. Now I must actually start painting again. I know, I know....

While the Gesso Dries...

2006-01-02T14:13:00.000-06:00

Have had second thoughts about doing the January Novel Writing Month in an official capacity. Instead I will either write as time allows or write in this blog while in the studio. It may make for some rambling prose, but I don't really care. The November effort was totally worth it, but if I am to stay on course and consolidate my efforts, I'm better off continuing it in this fashion rather than taking on another project or commitment.

The gesso is lumpy and had to be diluted to be spreadable. It left behind random dried bits on the masonite, but that's okay, it suits the directness of intent. Outside the studio, my mood is very lighthearted and happy and content. In here, however, I feel very serious. There's a set of work in a serious tone, in the sense of not lighthearted, which is simmering inside of my head. I don't know what I am going to paint, other than using a certain set of colors and brushes. It's going to be different than my previous work.

So Happy it's a New Year

2006-01-02T12:07:00.000-06:00

The Holidays are finally over. December ended up going by in a blur of shopping, medical issues, and gatherings. We even ended up having a New Year's Eve potluck dessert party here, very spur of the moment. Today is for laundry and returning dishes and leftover desserts. We are committed to a better diet, and can't have all those sweets hanging around.

My New Year's resolution is the same as it has been nearly every year I can remember: do more art!

The More it Snows...

2005-12-21T16:02:00.000-06:00

Happy Winter Solstice! It's twenty minutes before sunset but still fairly bright outside after a sunny, blue-skies day. We bundled up and took a walk along the beach. It's hard to believe that the beach looks like frozen February on the first day of winter.

We had the Holiday Open House and Open Studio for the gallery on Sunday afternoon. For some reason my heart just wasn't in it. We got through it in the end, but we were both somewhat depressed and tired. But by Tuesday I was back on form and regained my focus.

So here I am, back in the studio, and planning out my next moves. I've subscribed to the Art Deadlines newsletter, I'll be participating in the January Novel Writing Month (inspired by NaNoWriMo), and I'm about to start on a new set of paintings. It's great to not have to worry about the gallery for a while.

Gettting Serious

2005-12-14T10:28:00.000-06:00

I can't believe it's been 2 1/2 weeks since I last posted--where did the time go? I am glad to say that I have been getting some studio time in, and have quite a few pastel and watercolor crayon drawings to show for it. I've been battling a chest cold, as well, which seems to be on the wane now. The gallery and website business accounts have been updated and reconciled, and Steve has updated and redesigned the gallery and Art Fair websites. We had a long talk about the 2006 Art Fair and made several work- and stress-reducing decisions, especially those involving our own booth and artwork.

I also finished setting up the storage room. This required installing several sections of coated-wire shelving at a little above mid-height so that there was double the stacking area for our paintings and off-the floor storage for others' artwork which is not currently on display in the gallery. This room is the former apartment bedroom. We ripped out the grotty carpeting, left the floor bare, and opened up the big closet for storing framing supplies and spare gallery shelving, etc.

Two things spurred this project: I needed to get at our supply of masonite panels, which was inaccessible thanks to so much other stuff piled in front of it, and we are having our Holiday Open House for the gallery on Sunday--and opening the studio and storage room to the public, as well. We used to do Open Studios quite frequently in the days before the gallery, and they were fun and casual and often resulted in good sales. People around here like that sort of thing, as opposed to overly formal gatherings.

There's nothing like being frugal. The shelving I installed was saved from remodeling projects--some were the shelves in my old kitchen, and the great big one was the closet shelf in the apartment which later became the gallery. I am very glad I save things! Likewise saving masonite, since I came across several hardwood frames marked down to $8 each one day--they are structurally sound but have surface scratches and dings. By cutting masonite to fit, I now have three 24 x 36 and one 20 x 26 future paintings with frames painted as part of the artwork for less than decent canvases of the same size.

Cutting masonite used to be such a hassle, as I had to do it with either a rickety circular saw or a saber saw. Gripping the saw for long lengths of cutting kills my hands and doesn't produce very nice cuts. Over the summer, though, we spotted a Craftsman table saw at a nearby garage sale for $35. The thing has been a godsend. There's just enough room in the shed to use it--and now that I've got my studio back, it's a very short walk to use it, with no stairs or hills to negotiate. If anyone had seen me yesterday afternoon, they would have seen a woman in a grey hooded sweatshirt and tan barn coat carrying cuts of masonite and grinning like a little kid who hit the jackpot under the Christmas tree.

Speaking of Christmas, that's the one thing I haven't spent much time on, at least not for me. At Thanksgiving dinner, my entire family ganged up on me and told me, "No More Projects!" I heartily agreed, and we laughed about my needing a Patch for my addiction to Big Domestic Projects. As the days went by, a time I am normally Doing the House for Christmas in a big way, Project-Style--outdoor lights in the crabapple trees, lighted garlands around the windows and doorways, and lighted garlands around all the indoor windows and doorways and multiple Christmas trees, plus the traditional baking and making up food gifts for friends and neighbors, and designing, printing, and sending out cards--I found myself uncharacteristically detached from the entire thing. My heart and brain both got with the No More Projects program.

Now this is not a bad thing. It's part of the same facing of reality that made us decide to scale back on the gallery openings. The weather turned very cold and snowy, I had a chest cold, and if I had any energy at all, it was going to be spent in the studio. And that was that. The results: lights around the potted spiral topiaries which flank the front door, and a fake evergreen spray with a tacky "Merry Christmas" light on it (which I made last year and saved), which took all of 10-15 minutes to set up, no ladders or frostbite required. Indoors I put up one big tree with a lot of lights, including a new bright cheerful lighted star topper I found for $1 at a resale shop, and just one box of red ornaments; a set of three small charliebrown trees, unlit and undecorated, but which are still cool grouped together; one big pinecone wreath in the dining room; a Christmas tablecloth on the big table; a small red basket in the foyer; three Santa Claus items handed down in my family, and our Christmas snowman coffee mugs. No cards or anything else. All of this took about 6 hours, and a minimum of dragging crap up and down the stairs, which means when it comes down after New Year's it won't be a big deal, either. Whew!

Friends are invited to the Open House, and I've made my giant batch of Chex Mix with Steve's help, and will have easy to make food and beverages for that event. It's festive and it's enough. We haven't done our Christmas shopping yet, but hope to do that tomorrow, and will be keeping the list to immediate family and our friends who have been doing the food for the openings. As the architect said: Less is More.

I Did It!

2005-11-30T10:40:00.000-06:00

In spite of domestic projects and an installation artist who needed way more time than I expected to set up his show (about 30 hours over three days/evenings), and the precision grid hanging for another artist that I did myself, and of course the loss of a setup day because of Thanksgiving, the show was set up with time to spare and we actually enjoyed ourselves at the reception.

I had 16,000 words to go with four days left in the NaNoWriMo event, but I knew that with a clear schedule, I could easily average 4,000 words per day. But a little something happened during the set up for the show which had a tremendous impact on not only the gallery, but the writing, our relationship, and just about everything you can think of--

There is nothing like confronting your own physical limitations to force realistic parameters in your life and work. During the hanging of the show, I was in a great mood, had a reasonable amount of energy and focus, but my knees, feet, and hands and neck were hurting worse and worse. This was to be expected after something like the giant hedge project, but handling several flights of stairs and carrying boxes and artwork of varying weight and awkwardness was doing the same thing, and had done so for the last several shows. I was ready to throw in the towel on the gallery altogether. We do not make much money on it unless we sell our own art, and the expenses of a show are considerable, not to mention the time factor and the physical work. My husband's office is in the upper level of the gallery, and the disruptions every month were becoming more and more frustrating.

I proposed that instead of doing six, or even four shows next year, we only do two. That we needn't give up the gallery, everyone knows we are here and knows to make an appointment or at least call first. We have a good relationship with the local press and an extensive emailing list. Steve could take over the entire upper level for his office, and we would do the two shows together, so that he had more control over when and how his space would be disrupted. I would be relieved of at least half the physical work, and also not be disrupted so often in my own art work (during the setup for shows, everything gets thrown into my office and studio and storage room, and it takes me days to sort it out afterwards). He was very enthusiastic. We were both so enthusiastic about this meeting of minds that it was like a big cloud over our heads finally passed by.

After the reception I felt completely liberated, so much so that I wrote 7,000 words on Sunday, and over 9,000 words on Monday, and enjoyed every minute of it. I "won" the Novel Writing contest and am now in possession of the first draft of a short novel about a middle-aged woman's experiences in becoming a professional artist. It is part "literary" novel and part science fiction/fantasy. I'm going to let it sit for a few days before reading it from beginning to end and deciding if there is anything in it worth salvaging and rewriting.

The experience was totally worth it, as I gained a lot of confidence and a lot of insight and in some ways reconnected, in a more mature fashion, with the creative energy I had in college. I've even figured out why I have to be an artist, no small feat.

They Warn You About This

2005-11-18T11:21:00.000-06:00

Still haven't cleared the 34,000 mark, and the NaNoWriMo gurus warn you about the treacherous 20 thousands, where many writers get bogged down and distracted. They say it gets easier after that, just slog through and you'll be okay.

The biggest distraction was an unplanned-for domestic project. Steve is allergic to certain aromatic oils, such as found in some candles. It became evident there was something in our immediate environment which was having the same effect. He tracked it down to my prize boxwood hedge in the front courtyard. When I first planted the hedge, the site was fairly shady and remained shady until early this summer. We had a large tree removed and our neighbor had several removed. The site is now full sun--and the sunlight sets off the oils in the boxwood. It's not a nice smell, either, and many people have often remarked that it smells like cat urine. There is a similar boxwood and sunny site at our doctor's office and Steve reacted the same way to that area, too. So it had to go.

It was a huge project which not only involved the physical removal of dozens of mature shrubs, but of shopping for, hauling, and planting of 40+ new privet shrubs, each averaging 5' tall. I got them for half price, and also got great deals on topsoil and mulch. It took about 3 solid days of work. There are still some details to take care of, such as replacing & expanding the irrigation system in the vincinity of the new privet hedge, but a bitter cold front came in and that will have to wait for a few days. Needless to say I was far too exhausted to do any art or writing or even housework.

I've been playing catch-up this week, getting the gallery website updated, the press releases out for the next show, the postcards stamped and mailed, the garden club website updated, a dozen batches of laundry done, taking in art for the new show and moving out art from the old show and this weekend will be spent hanging the next show. Somehow I have also been writing for the novel project, did over 3,500 words yesterday and will try for 5,000 today.

The best thing about the novel project is that in the course of writing about art and the process of art, I've done what amounts to an analysis of my own art up to the present day, and it's been quite revealing. I will write more about this in a future post, after I am able to articulate it more concisely. The novel writing project does reward quantity over quality, so it would not pay to quote it here!

Almost One Week Down

2005-11-06T21:31:00.000-06:00

Word count as of today: 14,128. Today was the best day yet, because the narrative is starting to flow rather than coming in fits and starts. The more I write, the easier it gets. I've experienced the same phenomenon with painting. The first rule is to trust the process, not worrying about the result as much as the doing. After a while things will fall into place on their own. Or at least they can.

In real-time application there is a physical & mental impact, and so far it is positive. The act of doing so much creative writing so intensely and on schedule is waking up parts of my brain that have been idle for years and years. It's like coming out of a fog. I find myself remembering things better and staying on top of both the gallery and domestic matters.

It is unclear to me at this point if I am on a high from this project or if it is simply a reawakening. If it is just a high, it might pose the problem of crashing emotionally at the end of it. I am hoping, however, that the discipline of this project carries over to studio work. Now that the pace of the writing is going more quickly, and that I have determined that my best writing times are in the afternoon, I'm going to attempt studio work in the morning hours, and to keep to that schedule if it seems to work.

I do not plan to do this seven days a week. There are days I will not be able to write or paint at all, for gallery or social obligations, or for taking care of house repairs or doctor appointments. The goal of 3,000 words per day will be sufficient to achieve the 17,000 words per week needed to clear 50,000 words in three weeks, all figures approximate. Building in fail-safes takes a lot of the pressure off.

So Far So Good

2005-11-02T16:54:00.000-06:00

It's almost the end of the second day of the new project. So far I've written 4,000 words, and am likely to hit 5,000 before the night is over. That would make 10% of the NaNoWriMo goal. I'm writing it like I would do an assemblage, starting out with the central notion that the most important part of creativity is actually producing something, regardless of refinement. The refinement can come later, and it's a process which gets better with practice. It's hard to refine nothing, however.

The novel is now showing those eerie signs of interconnectivity that build up in my assemblages as I work on them. The various sections start to tie themselves together in ways I cannot imagine when I begin to write them. The serendipitous moments of recognition of the relationship of one section to another is like witnessing magic. It keeps me going, in anticipation of what might happen next.

The Game's Afoot!

2005-11-01T14:06:00.000-06:00

Okay, okay, it's an overused phrase, but I love Sherlock Holmes, and it's my blog, so I'll use it if I want to.

I've started the novel-writing portion of the next project, and wrote over 1,000 words in about two hours. The words actually bear some relationship with one another, which is amazing. The working title is "ampersand." My goal is around 3,000 words per writing day, figuring I've got 20 good writing days this month, allowing for the next gallery opening and Thanksgiving, and whatever other time-consuming obligations that will inevitably crop up.

The office cleanup was wrapped up yesterday, and it is so empowering to be able to get my hands on things I'm looking for, and to have a system of controlling paperwork and the various elements of business and household which is easily maintained.

Steve and I talked about our workloads, and we agreed that the second job he has been holding down may actually be holding him back from his main work, which is website development. My gut feeling is that he should focus on his main work, which is not only what he wants to do, but it will pay off in the long run and give us more time for each other in the short run. We've got this precious one moment in time where we can both be happy campers.

The weather is incredibly beautiful, a very late Indian Summer. I plan to take advantage of it to make an assemblage as part of The November Project. Thus, I'm off to the shed to look for various bits with potential....

Busy With the Gallery

2005-10-30T21:23:00.000-06:00

The next big art project starts on Tuesday, and in anticipation of that I've spent some time streamlining gallery operations, which is a fancy way of saying I've updated the mailing list, paid the quarterly taxes, and finally (FINALLY) created an email list. We had an Open House scheduled for this afternoon, so I tried out the email list a few days ago. There was some positive response to it, and I had a feeling that we would get more people than usual for this Open House. We got nearly three times as many, and actually sold several things, plus connected one of our featured artists with a local newspaper columnist. So I am very happy about this and it gives me the satisfaction of having an easy and efficient method of publicizing gallery doings without having to rely on posters or newspapers.

The prep work for the open house involved some cooking and a lot of cleaning, and I could not have done it without a lot of help from Steve. Despite my best efforts, this house gets so grotty so quickly, even with just two people and one sociable cat. In the midst of the cleaning fury we agreed to sit down soon and create a maintenance plan and/or schedule, so things do not ever get quite so out of hand. I have been handling all of the shopping, cooking, laundry, errands, yard work, car care, bookkeeping for both ourselves and the business, the home maintenance & repairs, and the bulk of the housework, and it's more than I can handle on my own and still handle the gallery and do my art full-time. So the re-allocation of domestic jobs is both necessary and welcome. When I was younger I did all of the above and more, as a divorced custodial parent plus full-time landscape designer, but those days are long gone.

A Project Takes Shape

2005-10-24T17:29:00.000-05:00

I majored in both English and Art, and in fact was a writer for 10 years and taught at the university level for two or three years. I did three drafts of a novel and then lost it in a flood. During one of the resulting home repair projects I took a break and drew the hammer I had been using. I still have that drawing--it was the moment I realized that I needed art more than writing, and was in fact a better artist than writer (could be the deaf thing at work again). Never did try to rewrite that novel, and cannot for the life of me remember what it was about.

Flash forward about 20 years to the present, where the focus is art, and a large chunk of the art so far involves words, writing, fonts--the presence of language is one of my trademarks, so to speak. I'm always considering ways to take that element to another level.

I was going through our local email network and came across a link to some silly thing or other that involved 50,000 words in a month, and clicked on it because it sounded like some sort of online game. It turned out to be something called the National Novel Writing Month, an actually international yearly event where participants start writing on November 1st with the goal of writing 50,000 words by November 30th. This would be the equivalent of 175 pages, or a short novel. The event grabbed my interest because it is very process-oriented, in spite of the stated 50,000-word goal, very un-precious in attitude. In fact, it felt very much like what I'd like to achieve as a newly full-time artist--regular output without getting hung up on preciousness or quality or saleability. The fact that it involves language in a sort of free-wheeling way appeals to the artist in me as opposed to the former academic.

So I signed up and that is what I'm going to do for the month of November: write a short novel as part of an international marathon, and both the process of writing it and the content are part of the artwork I will do that month. I'd like to see if I can do a sort of interchangeable work. I'm not too worried about whether it is original or even any good. The doing itself seems like an exciting and worthwhile project for me, and I'm curious to see what does come out of the experience.

The NaNoWriMo organizers say that 50,000 words in a month is challenging, but still doable, by someone with a full-time job. They also have regional networks and support groups that look like fun. The founder has a handbook that many recommended to read before and during the event, a sort of how-to-be-a-novelist book, but I have a particular sort of approach in mind and I think I will work intuitively and in the moment. Needless to say, I have no intent of rewriting that long-ago lost novel! How boring!

Examining the Urge

2005-10-21T14:00:00.000-05:00

Got the Angel Bunny done, sealed, and delivered. Have no idea if it brought any money to the orphanage, but it looked nice in its display setting. Steve also donated one of his medium-sized pieces, the one I think looks like our friend Paul. He had to teach last night, so we did not go to the gala. Maybe next year.

The entire day was about running errands in opposite directions, so I had a lot of time to think about art and its place in my life, which is really what this blog is about. I have a very keen sense of the brevity of life. I also have a very keen sense of one's essential solitude. So out of a sense of needing to make the most out of my existence, yet somewhat disconnected from the outside world (deafness will do that), creating and expressing is a powerful drive. It's almost as if I don't sufficiently exist unless I'm impacting my will or self upon my surroundings or an object or a painting.

Some people I've known wish to leave their mark on the world, to leave behind proof of their existence (or their greatness, deserved or not). That isn't what drives me. If my body of work is suddenly valuable after my death--or not--it doesn't matter to me one way or another. What matters is the process, the doing of it, the living of it. I'd rather be fully alive while I am alive and not worry about afterwards.

So I may not be any good as an artist, but I have to be an artist.

On Space

2005-10-18T17:22:00.000-05:00

The biggest difference between the studio now and the way it was a year and a half ago is that it is now set up primarily for my work, rather than shared regularly with Steve. He tends to paint in bursts, and is almost exclusively a painter. He is also much less particular about his painting environment, and often just paints giant canvases right on the floor. I paint and do sculptural assemblages, and will no doubt be continuing with mixed media. I need a lot of light to see, and tables and other furnishings for physical comfort. It's just plain easier to get lost in the process if I'm not struggling to move around. That's the first element.

The second element is the psychological space. We shared studio space our first two years together, and it generally wasn't too bad. His style was so strong and assertive, however, that it had a great influence on my own style. I learned a lot from the proximity, and perhaps the greatest benefit was shaking off the academic approach which was strangling me. I learned to paint on demand and sold quite a few paintings. I am ready to see what develops from that experience now that I am down here on my own.

Thinking About It

2005-10-18T17:00:00.000-05:00

Not too bad for the first day. Found parts for the assemblage, did a lot of sanding and put the basic figure together. The one thing I've noted is the fatigue--my assemblages tend to be heavy and between that and the oomph needed to cut and drive long screws (even with power tools), the physical impact is considerable. I move so slowly compared to the speed at which my mind works. Even with breaks I find myself quite tired out, and unlikely to work in here tonight.

In time I will likely be getting away from processes which are too physically demanding on my joints so that I don't get worn out in the middle of working. I don't see well enough to do small things, nor are my hands facile enough for working small. But I've had this assemblage in my head all summer and knew I had useful components on the premises, so it made sense to make it given the short time frame in which it needs to be completed.

It should also be easier, in time, to stay on top of domestic and gallery chores, now that there is more room in my office and in the basement and cellar areas. No more acrobatic stretches to reach things or having to move great heavy boxes and furniture in order to get at something that was supposed to be in a box behind a box (and of course turned out to be in a different place altogether). It won't be such hard work to do everyday things, and the prospect of being able to find most of my supplies is such a luxury after the past year and a half.

Commencement

2005-10-18T11:18:00.000-05:00

Most things are now moved in and I'm sitting at the workbench for the first time, having just finished scrubbing it with a bleach solution. A large mug of cinnamon tea gives off a curl of steam in the sunshine. It is the second half of October, but everything in the garden is still green and the trees have not yet dropped leaves.

Steve has posed the question of whether I am even capable of being a professional artist, although I have certainly been a good amateur one. Says it's a mindset--the professional artist really doesn't think about much else, and is not likely to let other things distract from working on the art.

I started my day about three hours ago, after breakfast and the newspaper, getting laundry started, emailing my mother, paying bills, bringing in the trash and recycling cans, and general cleaning here in the studio. A tea break was needed. I am still learning to pace myself in a manner appropriate to my age and health.

The first art project isn't seriously art, but is something fun and for a good cause. I make garden pieces out of wood, metal, and sundry found objects and bits leftover from home repair projects. I don't change the nature of the bits, but assemble them in ways that seem fun. I've sold a few and am making one for a charity auction. Now that the studio is on the same ground level as the shed, it is so much easier to work. The saws and heavy bits are in the shed, the paints and detail bits are here in the studio. In between is a pleasant garden. No hills or stairs to climb. My creaky legs are grateful.

Some Background on This Challenge

2005-10-17T20:50:00.000-05:00

The place: an overgrown 1930's dunetop cottage about two blocks back from Lake Michigan. It's been remodeled and remuddled into apartments, then gradually back into a single-family home with an art gallery and a studio. The studio is a former apartment on the lowest level and walks out into a sculpture garden with a meditative labyrinth and a large, slowly decaying shed.

The people: me, deaf since childhood, somewhat arthritic, easily distracted by a never-ending cycle of chores, and Steve, my husband of 3 1/2 years, an artist and website developer from England. I have one son, Nick, who is a musician and law student; he lives about a half an hour away.

The challenge: now that I have retired from my "day" job as a landscape designer, I have the opportunity to work at my art full time. The decision was both liberating and scary. I've sold quite a bit of my work in the past three years, but now I want to push the envelope and do the best work I can. Will I be able to resist the old habit of treating my art as a hobby, and put it first the way I've put jobs and housework first all these years?