Here’s a painting that has been stumping me. Sometimes when I’m this stumped, I abandon the project and start another one.

Success is flanked by fails in anything. I paint nearly every day so I start and finish paintings constantly. I abandon or take breaks all the time. Some paintings turn out better than I expect. Sometimes, I love a painting so much I don’t care at all if anyone else likes it. I can be a snobby art critic so this happens rarely. I am truly my hardest on me. I know when something works, usually, and I know when it doesn’t.

It’s a complicated balance/color/ depth/composition puzzle, which keeps me coming back, but always knowing the failure rate. It’s okay. I’m used to it.

Usually when I feel like something isn’t working, I do this hard to describe but simple thing.

I ask the painting.

Or, just listen without my ears because believe it or not they know better than I do what they are about.

Welcome to abstract expressionism. I personally love this part, but I know

Weird

I suddenly realized this morning that I was getting too caught up in color and composition details and had forgotten about wondering what it was all about. (Sounds like a metaphor for my life)

So today, I got the feeling that this painting is not as superficial as I’d thought, that there is a clear message for me, which I have been, I guess, ignoring.

Oh

Here’s another thing that I can’t say I’m thrilled with.

It’s about a subject I don’t like to talk about. Money.

Never have I painted any painting about money. I AVOID the subject as much as possible!

Like a mother protecting its young, I try to protect my art from commerce. I have a big metaphorical safety fence to keep the two separate.

As if money is a scary wolf and art is a weak helpless bunny.

Well, that’s a realization.

My art is not helpless And neither is money a big bad wolf

So ok

I’m paying attention.

What is something most people don’t understand?

I’ll take a jab at this, why not? I’m only just starting to comprehend a very tiny part.

Energy

Scientists have studyed it long before Einstein came along . This unseen, silent, tasteless, scentless, substance-less force that is everywhere.

We now know there is more energy space inside and around our cells than cell parts. They know this energy influences the cell to become whatever it becomes.

We now know it can be measured with scientific devices. We have formulas and laws to define it. It can’t be created or destroyed, once in motion it stays in motion… They learned to harness it. We have light. We have power. Our brains are made up of electricital reactions.

With my extremely limited experience, I know it can be influenced. I know it can be felt. I’ve walked into a room after an argument, I’ve seen and felt tears of joy, tears of grief. I’ve seen strong energy take over.

I’ve plugged in lamps and hair dryers and watched TV. I don’t know how it works but I know it’s does.

What I’m learning now is that I can harness and influence my personal energy and somehow by doing so I influence other energies around me on purpose!

I’m aware that I have this affect, that everyone does. We all affect the energy in the room just by being in it. Why or how this is, I can’t say, but I’ve witnessed it. I’ve noticed how a bad morning can get worse or change on a dime.

What I’m just starting to experiment with is intentionally using my own energy.

If we can power major cities with power from water or from splitting atoms, surely we can harness and affect our one person. How many people know about or understand all the energy we have at our fingertips. I know I don’t. (sometimes I wonder if media does)

There are many things that have changed art over the years. Technology is a big one for sure.

I used to have to hire a photographer friend to take pictures of my art for ads and flyers and my portfolio, I think my IPhone has a better camera then what some of my friends had in the beginning of digital. Granted my friends had a lot of talent and experience so the pics are still great.

I can do so much that I couldn’t do before, all by myself now.

Just between my two books what has happened in formatting is huge. My first crack at formatting could not be recognized from computer to computer. Dots per inch was a term I’ll never forget learning. DPI caused enough issues that I had to get my illustrations rephotograghed and start completely over. In the short time between, my publisher turned into a fully self publishing company.

Now there’s Amazon KDP and Canva. Websites? That was a thing only someone computer skilled could do. I’m practically my own graphic artist now.

It’s nice because I can get closer to what I like. I’m still limited by my own skill set, but gone are the days when I sit helplessly beside a computer design person trying to articulate what I want, when nothing on the computer screen looks right, and instead I’m told what I like isn’t possible. This was always expensive and disappointing. Setting up my art school business with online scheduling was a costly waste of time that never worked right. Now glitches have been worked out and anyone can set one up.

I’m glad for technology. It’s broadened my abilities and my horizons.

Like closing my heart

As in: no, I refuse to let this interfere with my life.

That’s the main goal really, being authentically, unapologetically, calmly, confidently aligned with a better me.

No I will not let the energy of discontent rule my day or ruin it.

Inwardly, I am saying no very often because by saying no to closing my heart, I am saying yes to openness, compassion and love. Enthusiasm. Fun. Ideas. I’m saying yes to how I want to feel, how I’ve chosen that I want feel. I choose every morning that I want to feel open, and stay open even if something or someone pushes my buttons. Especially when.

Sure things come up. Complications arise. Problems need to be solved. I guess I decided that I want to move through life’s glitches with love. Fear has not been completely helpful, anger isn’t always a good option. so I decided on this new approach.

Yesterday I got a text that I was scheduled to go into a third grade classroom to begin a collaborated art project. I’d had a couple of meetings, but they were general, I was still trying to comprehend what my client was hoping for. The project is intended to be auctioned at a fundraising event. It’s high end, there are many variables, many unknowns, I still have several questions. As unprepared as I was, I was going in…

I got the text Monday night that Tuesday at 10:20 was best time for the teacher. It was late.

This is reminiscent of my son waking me up one morning needing a costume right now. For history day. For school. Oh and can I bring snacks and attend a performance at ten o’clock. Today. Costume before 7:45, snacks made and me dressed to meet up with teachers and other parents by 10. Three other kids to get to two other schools. Yes that did happen, (I’m sure I’m not the only one)

So Monday night, I set the phone down and came up with a project.

Tuesday morning at 4am I was figuring out how best to involve twenty-three nine year olds. At 5:30 over coffee, I was mixing paint…

By 8:15 I had already met up with my kids whose kids attend the school, walked with them to drop off where I connected with the school liaison and was assured there were paint brushes.

By 8:45 I was on my way home from Home Depot with supplies., (no time to wait for Michael’s to open).

By 10:05 I was at the school, signed in with my volunteer badge searching for the paint brushes.

Two hours passed in a messy blur. Afterwards, I wiped down the tables and cleaned the brushes. I still had a whole day’s work to navigate. I wasn’t sure if the wet paintings were going to work themselves into something that my client would approve of. I was covered in paint and sort of exhausted.

Today, after washing my hands about a million times and showering, paint is still stuck to my fingernails. I am scheduled to help with another project at another school.

I have at least eight other pressing things to take care of today, but wow, did I just navigate the impossible yesterday!?

Can I tell you?

It fell together perfectly, seamlessly, and turned out to be pretty fun. (I was about to feel the tiniest bit guilty about how fun this crazy art life that Im living is, but stopped and relaxed my shoulders, took some long deep breaths, and let the utter gratitude for all of it wash over me

All because I’m saying no.

And yes

Do I have any?

Am I hiding some secret skills, you might be interested in?

I love this prompt question.

Because

Oh, I DO.

I am learning to conjure them when I want because like most super powers, they are all over the place, showing up, not showing up, causing concern, little measures of embarrassment, you know how it goes.

First I had to be surprised, then accepting, and now I’m dedicated to practice.

As I practice, I learn. And wonder, how will I use my power for good? You know, for all the world? Humanity, peace, love. What about saving lives?

For now I can barely use it for my own good, but I’m getting better. Stay tuned because I’m pretty sure I’m figuring it out.

Future blog post about secret abilities coming soon…

I went to Kenya on a whim. An opportunity presented itself, and I uncharacteristically said yes, when my new friend Jen asked, my answer was yes, I would like to go to Africa and paint a mural.

I surprised myself, and everyone close to me. Vaccinations, malaria pills, visas and plane tickets, I navigated all of it by myself on the East coast, without a car, while my fellow travelers got ready in CA. I rejoined the group eventually, and we all flew out of LA

Some choices change you. I didn’t go with that in mind. I went for reasons I am still not clear about. I went with an organization called Kids for Peace to help finish a school they had helped school children raise money for and then had built in a tiny remote town in Kenya.

I designed and painted a giant mural in five days for the multipurpose room. The entire village hung out in the one room while we worked. There was so much love, so much awe, so much going on, I still don’t have words to express the beauty of the experience. We then were taken to a locally run massi safari camp. From there I caught a small plane on a tiny airstrip in the middle of wilderbeast migration back to Nairobi. Stayed in a luxury hotel, kissed a giraffe, and flew back to Boston.

This was the beginning of my association with Jill and her non-profit, Kids for Peace. I delivered on deadline. I had a band of Kenyan kids helping me, hanging out for hours. I was a teacher back in CA, so art and kids were something I was comfortable with. Everything else was a crazy out of my comfort zone experience. I have stories!

All of these years later I still can’t believe I did that. G who at the time was furious with me, loves that I went, and then went a second time.

Jill is a maverick. She makes big things happen in the world. Being a part of anything Jill is doing is the biggest and best adventure anyone could ask for.

That’s how it started. Jill and I have since shared many fun experiences, who knew art would make me so adventurous!

In good ratio.

My greatest teacher all along turned out to be my life. It’s not the answer this prompt question might be looking for. Truly, I have had some great teachers who really impacted my scholastic self concept at key moments over the years.

But looking back over a full and busy life, it is experience that I’ve learned the most from.

Sorry to bore with all this artist talk.

Being an artist in this century is a constantly changing steep learning curve. Seeking a fulfilling beautiful life along side, provides continuous opportunities to learn. There are no clear rules. My friend once said “It’s like the Wild West out there! You just kind of make it up as you go along.”

Isn’t this true of life in general for some people? Art or no art, I think that I would always be outside the box, making it all up.

Life has taught me to be okay with this. I spent most of my younger days trying to be in a box, THE box, the one everyone seemed to want me in. I was often upset when it proved to be too hard. Life showed me gradually over time, that it was perfectly fine to be a person such as myself, even if it made others worry or uncomfortable.

My way, my approach, might seem strange, (hence all the well meaning advice) but life showed me that it’s really perfect for me to live intuitively. A younger me thought I had to change at a basic level, an experienced me understands that its so much easier to work with myself. To be on my own side.

When I finally accepted that I was an artist, like it or not, it wasn’t like everything fell seamlessly into place. Life didn’t play out that way. At some point I also had to also learn that I wasn’t a victim of any of it.

I learned this one lesson over and over and am still learning, I am not, and never have been a victim of my circumstances, of life. Life is a patient teacher, even though it marches on, hardly waiting for me to catch up. Life won’t give me lemonade. Lemons yes, but it’s true, what they say about what I make of it, another important lesson. (Knowing me, I want lemon squares instead, anyway).

Today I am surrounded by sold and favorite paintings of mine. A fleeting moment for me to take in.

Life is teaching me something about this part as well.

I wonder how this is going to work out (in my favor)?

Hmmm…I wonder… has become my latest response.

How will this new issue play out?

Because life hasn’t stopped tossing me challlenges. The other night, I had five separate concerns weighing heavily on my mind, making it of course impossible to sleep. My brain jumped around for hours as I tried to breathe and relax. I KNOW it doesn’t help me to ruminate. I KNOW to direct my thinking, I even know HOW to, but life man, it’s tricky.

I ended up watching comedy bits on my phone at 3am because that was the only way to distract myself and lighten my mood.

The next morning nothing had changed. I had those same complications and a full day. I did not feel like getting up. I managed to bribe myself out of bed with breakfast (which I rarely eat).

My thirty minute meditation yielded maybe two minutes of calm. Maybe.

In my hurry to my first appointment, I had somehow forgotten about the giant painting still not fitting in the back of the truck. Too big, heavy and awkward, I couldn’t remove it by myself, so there it still was, accompanying me on a slow journey across town. (no freeway today)

I probably forgot about the painting because of the first miracle. Which was tiny, but unexpected. The pending resolution of one of the five, the second biggest issue.

The next miracle had nothing to do with anything. Neither did the third.

Then, this unexpected thing happened.

I SOLD THE PAINTING!!

I was late for my lunch event, because of the painting and parking. I wasn’t hungry at all, thanks to breakfast, plus I’m pretty sure I arrived disheveled, my makeup a little cried off, (thank you, miracle number two), not to mention, no sleep.

Of course I was in an amazing frame of mind. I’d witnessed four miracles and it was barely noon.

I’m now wondering how it all happened. I was there, but I couldn’t tell you…

I was at a prestigious art gallery opening the other day and got the opportunity to chat with the artist. The show spanned years and obvious periods for this artist, probably twenty to thirty paintings altogether.

I asked him a handful of questions, but the one that I remember was:

How did he get all his paintings from Los Angeles to San Diego? His answer: he drove them himself, in his van.

He was an older artistic guy, not a mover. It’s not glamorous, but moving around art is part of it. I’m actually really enjoying having a little truck. It’s been very handy.

This giant painting however, does not fit! It’s a bit of a bummer. It doesn’t fit the house it was intended for, it’s too big for me to move by myself. It’s too big to drive across the country to my daughters (who would gladly take it). Its even too big for the gallery.

It’s actually one of my favorite paintings. One that I didn’t set out to paint, but seemed to announce itself. A swan. Such a perfect symbol.

So size.

That’s what’s wrong. I really feel this painting has a home somewhere, but where?!

I’m reluctant to put it back in storage, though I have to.

The less practical side of creating art feels like it’s breathing down my neck today. No one understands why I made such a large painting. I don’t. It just sort of happened. It’s done now, too late for the regret I’m feeling…

Again I get to practice keeping my heart open. (because a giant painting that doesn’t fit, is not worth closing over).

SO

Lots of deep breathing. And a tiny measure of wonder, as in, I wonder how this giant problem will play out…