The theme for the March art walk in LaJolla is luck.

Luck because it’s St Patrick’s Day month.

Hmmm luck…

I’m feeling pretty lucky that I’ll have another chance to be part of things there. Lucky to be enjoying early Spring in San Diego. Lucky to be sitting here thinking about printing the names and sizes of my paintings and figuring out prices, typing away while gazing out through Palm trees at the ocean.

I actually used to feel kinda guilty for being lucky. I often would think of my luckiness, (happily), then talk to someone having a less lucky time, and feel bad. In fact, I stopped thinking of myself as lucky and just tried to be grateful, which is maybe the more mature thing to be.

This is a little funny to me because really, it was just the way I spun my own story. Some people tell a sad tale, (I could do that too) but why?

I learned somewhere along the way that casting myself in the victim role, didn’t really make me feel good, but the happy-go-lucky role could be a little fun. At least until I felt the angst of someone else. I didn’t do Facebook for years because I didn’t want anyone to feel jealous (of me). As if I had the power to make someone feel a certain way. Hand slap to my forehead. Oh right…

I would sometimes be the lucky underdog. People usually like an underdog, but again, why? Why spend any more time trying to buffer everyone’s feelings? It doesn’t work. Did I think I could be more likable if I did? That’s crazy. I might finally get that I have no control over how others feel.

I think, starting right now, I’m going to go back to calling myself lucky. Only minus the guilt. I’m going to trade out fortunate for feeling lucky. Why not? I’ll still be super appreciative and grateful for my luckiness. How could I not be?

Being lucky is fun. It’s fun for me and it’s fun for anyone caught up in it with me. Let’s be lucky together.

The art walk is coming up, luckily. And luckily I have plenty of time to get some things ready for it. I’ll be using my blog and my website to print out and copy from. Just a little heads up that you might be along, luckily, for a preview of the upcoming show themed around luck.

This is a folk story from the North western Canadian indigenous people that tells about darkness and light. They call it The Raven that Steals the Light. (but I think it was the old man)

All the light in the world has been hidden by an old man so there is only darkness. (Think of winter in the polar north). Then one day a raven decides to trick the old man into letting the light out. (he has hidden it in a box inside a box inside a box inside a box…) The raven has a whole long plan to get the man to set the light free. The reason the man has hidden the light is because he has a fear of seeing something he has never seen. What if his daughter is or isn’t beautiful?

I liked this story for all the metaphors. Who hasn’t tried to stay in the dark about a subject? Who hasn’t been afraid of something coming to light? At the same time light is so important and nessesary. Seeing the truth IS better in the long run. I love that the old man had to be tricked out of his denial by a savy raven and when he was, the whole world benifitted.

You probably guessed that this is a solstice story. One of those fables that explains why there is datkness during the long winter months in the north. A tell around the fire sort of tale about a fictional clever raven, an overly fearful man, his daughter and everyone human and animal forced to live in the darkness.

I painted this because I like the story. I like the solstice, I appreciate the sentiment of telling a story about fear of the light to take the fear out of the darkness.

After a stint of feeling like a fish out of water, I painted this to remember that I’m not really a fish at all. And sometimes that feeling of not fitting in, is just a passing feeling on the way to some different adventures. Maybe everyone feels a little out of sorts as they get used to newness.

Life force, (energy), is in spaces all around . It takes up space inside cells. Energy seeps from our pores, flashes from our eyes, hovers around our being. Our aliveness is felt. This painting is a reminder that what is invisible to our human eyes, is unmistakably there. The raven in the corner is from the story of when all the light in the world was hidden. Even without being able to see, energy can be felt and known.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved peace. Growing up, my parents probably fought more than they didn’t. When they weren’t yelling at each other they were yelling at us kids, if they weren’t yelling, then they were telling us to do stuff and we would, of course, do everything wrong. Contention. There was that. One of my favorite songs was Helen Reddy singing about how peaceful it is here. ‘No one bending over my shoulder…’

I have always have been, a true lover of peace. I look for it and enjoy it and appreciate it in all its forms.

This painting is about a peace-bringing dove making its nest on the world. I see a nest as a symbol of a nurturing home and because the dove is a symbol of peace, she is making herself a peaceful home in the world. From a peaceful home or a peaceful heart, peace can spiral out into the world. Not only do I love peace in my own life, but world peace and peace for everyone is my constant wish.

Peaceful World’ by John (Cougar) Mellencamp, if there was a song about it, I loved that song. Anyone else LOVE peace? My mother seemed to enjoy stirring up its opposite. We are all different.

I only used the middle of this for the painting explanation, but I think it’s interesting how a value becomes a value. I was probably born with this personality, but even at a very young age I knew my preference. Luckily I was able to spend most of my seventies childhood outside, much of it in the ultimate peace of nature.

This is a painting that shows how pliable and moldable a heart can be. Sometimes love has to stretch and expand and push into different shapes to fill a space. Sometimes we have to let our own hearts be squished around a little in order to orchestrate growth. I think this painting was for me to remember that my heart is not a rigid thing that stays the same, but instead a maluble, changing organ and energy center that stays healthy by adapting to its ever changing environment. Both energetically and physically, I feel like my heart has benefited from its own squishy nature.

This heart is a contented growing heart. It’s big and getting bigger and sending out Fibonacci spirals of love into the atmosphere. It represents how anyone’s heart can grow and become bigger (in the metaphorical sense that anyone can feel and show love in bigger ways). Which makes the energy around us feel more loving and easeful and expansive.

Sea turtles don’t mate for life I found this out while doing research for a commission I did a few years ago. My surfer son had just moved his family to Oahu, so I was lucky to spend a month or so there hanging out with his adorable beach babies. There was a whole thing with quarantine for their dog, so we kept our favorite grand dog.until he and I flew to Hawaii together. G joined us later. (At the time my daughter was living on the Big Island, her husband was finishing school in Seattle when they found out they had to move due to a devastating lava situation, it later wiped out their town. So I spent time there helping her pack up a get ready to join her husband.)

I saw a lot of turtles on that trip. Reading up on them, I learned a handful of facts. One of those I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life moments.

Sea Turtles have friendly relationships with each other. They seem to have many different friendships. This painting is about friendship. Sea turtles are gentle, calm and friendly. They hang out together in small groups, sometimes they will even befriend a human swimming by. I guess they aren’t romantic and unlike penguins, don’t need to pair up. I like the casual friendly calmness of sea turtle friendship, it’s sweet.

This painting is about speaking words with love. Talking through our hearts, as in putting our heart where our words come out. Gentle words inform our environment. I think even plants, flourish when spoken to kindly.

If you know the song Bridge Over Troubled Water, you might remember the third verse. It starts out : “Sail on Silver Girl…”

I did a handful of paintings with the theme of a bridge over troubled water. People can be the metaphorical ‘bridge’ over the ‘troubled water’ of another’s life circumstances. There seems to be a lot of trouble going on out in the world, and whoever is showing up, compassionately trying to help, is often the best answer. There seems to be no fixing things, but the power of helpfulness, is significant.

The Silver girl verse is like a pep talk. Sail on by, you can shine, all your dreams are on their way. Its a beautiful upbeat ending to a most compassionate song.

I love the Elvis Presley version.