Head of a Girl from the Past, and Changing

Head of a Girl from the Past
ink on moleskine


I have lost count of what number "head of a girl" this is. I've decided to go with names form now on, rather than numbers. What started out as an exercise to see what I could do with ink wash portraits has begun to take on meaning on its own, it's begun to become something of its own.

I suppose that's the nature of a series. It serves as a way for you to grow. You keep going back to the same theme or technique and you develop it with each following piece.

I don't know where this series will go. It's led me back to portraits, which I've always enjoyed, so that's good, and also drawing from references again, instead of making things up wholesale in my head. That's not a bad thing either.

In this season of beginning of the year resolutions I've been thinking about change a lot.

I think sometimes we expect to be able to change, just like that, make a resolution and that's it, quit cigarettes, lose weight, get published, go back to school... whatever the goal. But I don't think that change, real change really works like that.

Change doesn't happen all at once, it happens in stages and baby steps. Change is more like growth, or evolution. Change is something that happens inside of you first, that makes you want to take that small step, and the small step is what helps you get to the next choice, and making that choice convinces you that this is where you want to go.

Maybe change begins with an idea, "I can do that..." or "I don't have to be this..." A possibility. An idea. A realization that the dream is possible, an opening of doors, a willingness to take a chance, a first step out on that long journey, the beginning attempts at an exercise, even if they fail at first, and the commitment to keep trying, even though it doesn't seem like you will ever see that desired, whole-sale change or growth.

Maybe life is all about change. We have the illusion that things won't change or we will always be where and what we are, but the truth is, nothing stays the same and we are always in flux.

Perhaps part of our issues with making lasting change in our life is that we don't expect to fail in our attempts. We think that we make up our mind to change and that's it, it should be smooth sailing from then on in. But change is such a all encompassing thing, from the inside out, that it doesn't make sense that it would be all that easy.

There are going to be set backs. There are going to be moments where you are just not living up to your high ideals. There are going to be moments when you are scared and don't think you can do it. There are going to be moments where the old fears and bad feelings rise up again. There are going to be external difficulties, time constraints, people who don't support us, physical difficulties, unexpected disasters, whatever.

But in our journey to truly change, to GROW and develop and transform, we have to trust that the path we've set out on is the right one. And if it isn't as easy as we thought, we are still moving forward, despite stumbles or road blocks or detours. Sometimes, our journey might lead us into places we didn't expect, places we didn't dare hope for. Sometimes we might find we have to rest on our journey, or stop not quite at the end, or re-evaluate our destination.

Keep going. Don't give up. Expect set backs. Trust yourself. Trust the process.

Change is hard. Growth is hard. Life is hard.  Yup. So we might as well just keep going through.

Belief is the Theme, 80-84/100

 Head of a Girl 12, red and sepia
ink on paper
80/100

I'm going backwards with this one. When I found my red ink, I started experimenting with it. I was not happy with my use of the medium until the last one I did, which was this one.

 "I draw my hand..."
ink on paper
text reads [I draw my hand to say to the world and myself, that I am the maker. I do. I create. In my hand I hold the power to guide my life. The hand is the tool of human agency. The hand allows us to create the the {sic} world that our big brains let us IMAGINE. That's right. The hand allows us to be human because it allows us to create. And because we can create, the mind is free to dream up all that is ever possible. Between the mind and the hand, we become creators, we become the heroes of our own stories-- Rowena Murillo]
81/100

Then I saw something where red was combined with black, and I said, aha. I will add my sepia ink to the red ink drawings and see what happens. It worked, with various levels of success. Here, adding the text gave meaning to the not very good sketch of the hand, turning a failing piece into a successful one.

believe
ink on paper
82/100

Believe is the current theme. I actually liked this one the best, so I left it the way it was, without sepia ink.

believe that you can figure it out. And if you can't figure it out, you can figure out a way out of the mess. And if you can't figure a way out of the mess, maybe it wasn't that important to begin with. -RM
red and sepia ink on  paper
83/100

I liked this one the least, even with sepia ink. I had the medium all wrong.  The red was too heavy. My brush was too thick for what I was attempting, and my vision of what I wanted was not clear enough for me to even get close to it.  Oh well. I take it as a learning experience. Thus the added words. This piece is the one that isn't "that important to begin with."

Trust In You
acrylic on paper
84/100

This is the same theme, but different style and medium and technique. I do not know where the animal mask idea came from. It just came upon me and demanded to be painted.

Still behind on my 100 in 100 days goal, but if I do three a day, I will make it. I can do three a day. I hope.

Wish me luck.

Oh, and if you have any insight into what the final piece, Trust In You, actually means, I'd love to hear your interpretation. I think it's a deer. It might be a fox. I am not sure. But why is it a mask? And why is it combined with the words? And why on a black background? Anyone want to analyze it?

Revisiting and Working, 78 and 79/100

This Shore
acrylic on paper, moleskine
78/100

This is a revisitation of an idea from the beginning of the challenge.(The Other Side of the River). I just thought I'd see what would happen if I did it again, after playing with the ideas and colors for the last few months. It seems a little deeper, if less spontaneous.

Selfie (revised) Blue and Gold
ink and acrylic on paper
79/100

Here's another revisitation. I didn't like the ink wash self portrait I did yesterday, so as I had nothing to lose, I thought I'd see what would happen if I added paint to it. I stuck with the color scheme of prussian blue and quinacridone gold. Adding a touch of titan buff. I like the painting better now. I think I fixed the flaws. I'm kind of hard on my self portraits though. It's hard to deal with your vanity, looks wise and painting wise, and see the ways you fall short. But whatever, it's an exercise, right?

It's interesting how these portraits have gotten more realistic. I haven't really done representational art for a while, going with the more abstract or illustrative styles, but I spent many years painting and drawing real life, and it is kind of like getting back to my roots.

Do I know where I will go with this? Nope.

It's enough to do it, right now. It's enough to step out on the creative journey. I don't need answers yet, I just need to keep working.

Still 21 pieces to go before I finish my self challenge. It's about 2 pieces a day. I've caught up a bit. Just got to keep working, though.

Learning How To Say Yes 72-77/100 in 100 days

Yes (gold and silver)

pencil and acrylic

72/100

One of the things I have to practice is saying yes to life. My first impulse is always to say no. The farther out of my comfort zone things are, the more likely I am to say no, or just clam up and hide.

I've learned to get around this impulse. I make myself little reminders, like this painting of YES. Or I try to change my automatic internal dialogue into something more positive. I ask myself, what's the worst that could happen? I join blog challenges to do one brave thing a day. Sometimes, I just hold my breath and jump in.

Another thing I do to help myself learn to take chances and try new things and go for my goals, is to take baby steps. For instance, I wanted to do more portraits, try something new, really get into it. So I started small. The earlier recent portraits are an example. The first ones were a bit over 3"x5.5". Note paper size. And then I moved up to vintage book pages at about 4.5"x7". The scrap paper and left over book pages are not only small, but because they are "scrap" the stakes are lowered for me. This enables me to take chances, to risk things not working out... because it's just experimenting.

 

 Head of a Girl 9
ink on vintage Alice in Wonderland Page
4.5"x7"
73/100
Here my experiments get a bit larger. Practicing with the same image, trying new things, learning the technique, branching out.

 Head of a Girl 10
ink on paper, moleskine
5"x8"
74/100
Now on plain paper. This is not watercolor paper and it absorbed the ink strangely. Something I actually thought was interesting, so I decided to try something a bit more challenging

Ivy
ink on paper, moleskine
5x8"
75/100

I painted my daughter. I always find painting kids to be very challenging, because the features are so soft and rounded. But after experimenting with these vintage portraits and the ink, I went for it anyway.

I decided that I like the stronger shadows better. Gives me something else to grab onto with the sepia ink, but all in all, I don't think this is a bad attempt, for a first attempt. Usually, when I do portraits, I do myself... since I am always there and I don't complain when I model. And since the advent of digital photography, I don't even need a mirror, I can just snap a picture and paint it from my camera.

 Selfie
ink on peper
5x8"
76/100

Like here. A painting of a snapshot. This is definitely not my best self portrait, but I'm okay with it. Remember, part of this whole series, aside from getting my numbers up on my 100 in 100 challenge, is to take baby steps towards the harder challenges. Experimenting. Trying new things. Lowering the stakes and the pressure that I put on myself to get things right, and be perfect.

The process of trying out new things with low stakes is also a process of being open to whatever comes... whether it is a surprising aspect of a medium or a new idea of what I might try next.

Head of a Girl 11
ink on paper
5.5"x8.5"
77/100

(does anyone else find it funny that my page sizes are going up in half inch increments?)

This last painting was done this morning when I had a brilliant idea to use acrylic on top of my ink paintings... except I liked how this turned out, with it's strong shadows and pretty girl, so much, that I didn't want to touch it with the experiment.

You see? I stopped the willingness to try new things because I got attached to this "perfection." Not that I think it's perfect, but that I didn't want to "ruin" it.

Luckily, with this series, I am gaining enough facility in the medium and style that I can paint another head of a girl and experiment with that one. Maybe I should go back to my usual head of a girl, so that I can feel more comfortable with trying something new without ruining the existing work.

Being an artist does not mean you are always confident in what you create. Taking chances is part of the territory. Every blank page is the chance to make a masterpiece or a disaster that will make you climb back into bed and hide under the covers.

Learning to get out there, becoming comfortable with the risk, trying things that you've never done before... facing your fears... this is part of being an artist. This is part of being a human, actually. It's a hard lesson, and sometimes you have to relearn it.

Catching Up, 33-42/100 in 100 Creative Challenge

first drawing with old ink

ink, pen and gouache 

33/100 in 100

I've decided it's time for me to document the things I have been making, painting, drawing and creating over the last month or so.

Before, during and after the move, it's been difficult to keep up with what I thought I should be doing, but one of the things about my 100 in 100 days creative challenge, is that it's supposed to be flexible enough to fit into the life of the creator.

So even if I did not paint one painting every day, I want to keep up with what I have done, not only to live up to my challenge, but also to take stock of the creativity I am living, even when I think I'm not being creative at all. Because of that, I need to value all of my creative output.

So this first one I'm showing is the first thing I did when I sat down in my new studio, in the corner I cleared out before unpacking any of my clothes or other living type of boxes. I was more eager to unpack some of the boxes I'd left behind three years ago. Boxes with things like art supplies, books, note pads etc.

I found a moleskine note pad and wanted to do something with it. Then I found some old ink bottles and an ink pen. I thought, "hey I wonder if it is still good?" so I opened it up and started drawing with it. It was still good.

ink and pen

ink and pen on paper

34/100 in 100

Here's a drawing of the old ink bottle and old pen. There's a nice little glass that I found in the room and filled with water (there's a sink in my studio, too).

Girl
ink and gouache on paper
 35/100 in 100

Here's another drawing/painting I did with my ink and pen and a brush. Then I found a box with some old tubes of paint, gouache and acrylic and watercolor. Not all of these tubes were good, but some were. I don't know if this drawing was successful, but I didn't care. The point was to get drawing again.

 Girl in Dark Stars
pen and ink on paper
36/100 in 100

Then I realized that my ink was bleeding through the thin paper from the moleskin book. Not really the heavy art kind of moleskine. So I thought I'd go with the bleed through. I took out the pen again and went over the ink that bled through. This made me think of stars.

Girl in Light Stars
bleed through, pen and ink and acrylic on paper
 37/100 in 100

This is the last page of bleed through and I thought this was the most interesting of all. Rather than drawing more ink on it, I just outlined it. Then I remembered the stars from the last one and needed to add white stars. The white is not paint from my old boxes, but was the acrylic I carried with me from Michigan.

remember your dreams
pen, ink, gouache and acrylic on paper
38/100 in 100

I liked the idea of using something from my past to make something new. I guess that's why I wrote this out. Then used the blue and white to make clouds. Simple, but still it's important.

(don't get lost)
pen and ink on paper
39/100 in100

Maybe a bit of overwhelm here, as I was getting lost in the unpacking and upheaval of moving.

Rain
acrylic on paper
40/100 in 100

More experiments with old materials to see if they are working. This was an old jar of paint that I bought from a hand made paint store in Brooklyn, Sarkana, many many years ago. I don't even know if the store is still open. The color is called "Overcast" and I loved this gray blue color. I guess it feeds into stormy skies.

Rocks
acrylic and ink on paper
41/100 in 100

I also experimented what would happen if I mixed the various media together. Stormy gray, almost muddy. But I liked this one.

Storm

acrylic and ink on paper

42/100 in 100

More storm. Am I remembering storms on the ocean? I always loved seeing them roll in across the sea.

Anyway, I have more things to post. Expect some art-heavy and thought-light posting, as I put more of my recent work up. Here's one reason why we should keep up with our goals, instead of procrastinating and leaving it all for later. It's kind of a bitch to catch up. 

Inside, Outside, Upside Down, 11-13/100 Days Creative Challenge

 The Other Side of the River
acrylic on paper, 9/10/12
moleskine
012/100 in 100 days creative challenge

Boy, I am having a challenge keeping up with my 100 in 100 days creativity challenge. I was doing really well with the painting/drawing portion, going off on binges of paint and ink, and then...I just got stopped. The chaos of life and necessities of things I have to do and unexpected twists and chores and the paying kind of work and kids and blah.

But I never said this challenge would be easy, or smooth, and while I have gone through periods of painting every night like clockwork, day after day in a routine that kept me productive and creative, that is never a guarantee and sometimes, it's really hard work to get to that point.

I know life can get in the way.

The point is not to do the challenge without ever being challenged, the point is to meet the challenges, and find a way around them.

 Inside (drawing)
ink on recycled menu, 9/10/12
4"x8"
011/100 in 100 days creative challenge

I'm doing a lot of examination of my life and my art I think, trying to figure out where I want to go with it. Trying not to have the answers. I suppose what I am painting now does have more questions than answers. Is more mysterious, less about illustrating a point. I don't know where it is going, but I am trusting myself to be able to continue on in my journey, to be able to handle whatever is thrown at me.

The things that I thought would be easy are not so easy. The things I thought would be the main struggle are not an issue at all.

the light inside
acrylic on paper
8.5"x 5"
013/100 in 100 days creative challenge

I think I am in a blue period, like Picasso's, just by chance, because those are the colors I pulled out of my paint bag, and those are the colors I have been using for the last two weeks.

The last few times I did this challenge, I would pull out three or four different paint tubes and let my nightly painting be inspired by the randomness of the color scheme. I was surprised and delighted by this painting prompt sometimes, and came up with some of my favorite paintings out of it. Of course, sometimes the painting sucked, but that's ok.

This way of going at it, using the same color scheme again and again with different emphasis on the colors, using some similar techniques, using a limited palette, well, I kind of like it. It feels more poetic and less illustrative to me. It goes deeper. I don't mind. I find myself picking up additional paint tubes or media to add to my three tubes of paint. I don't mind that. As an exercise, I like the ability to become fluid within my constraints.

I know a lot of people think that being an artist is about being free and having no boundaries, but I think the truth is, it's often about it's often about looking through that one inch frame and seeing how infinite you can make that tiny space.

Well, I've run out of time. I have to get ready for work. Before I go, I did want to tell you that I have gotten back to my novel. I am up to chapter three in the revision in my first week of working on it. I don't know how quickly it will go or how consistently I can manage it. I've already found it a challenge to get back to it. I guess we'll see if I can manage to juggle my life of kids and work and chaos and painting and writing. Perhaps the painting and writing can give structure to the chaos.  We shall see.

Swept Clean, and a new 100 in 100 Creative Challenge

Swept Clean
acrylic on paper, moleskine notebook
8.5"x 5, 1/100 in 100 days

Good morning and happy September.

I've been struggling with staying on track lately. I've been slacking in my creativity, getting lazy, not being productive when I know I have goals...one of those goals I had was to start a 100 in 100 days of creativity again.

I need to get back into the habit of painting every day. And on this happy new September Day, I've decided I'm just going to go to it and get started, even if I didn't prepare the way or start a movement on pinterest or whatever.

I need to do it for me. And that's what I'm going to do. Perhaps over the next week or so I will post something asking if other people want to join me. I already have the "rules" since I made them years ago when I first started playing this game.

I have been thinking about starting this 100 paintings in 100 days for a while, planning on September 1st as a start date, but I let town fairs and back to school and shopping and kids and cleaning and work all get in the way and just forgot.

Then this morning I remembered. "Oh! Today is September 1st! I wanted to start painting again!" And instead of saying, I can't, I didn't plan. I didn't make a log sheet. I didn't post about it on my blog, I just up and grabbed my paints and my journals and started painting.

And you know what happened?

It felt good.

I don't want to be stopped by what I haven't done right or am not ready for or the long list of to dos I have to take care of every single day of my life. I just want to paint.

And I want to stop saying no.

And I want to stop thinking about the negatives and how hard everything is and how nothing is ready or perfect or how it's all too scary to do everything.

No more "nos". Just "yes". Just "I'll try."

So I'm starting my 100 in 100 creative challenge.

I am going to paint 100 paintings in 100 days. I don't even know what day I will be done on, but I'm going to keep it up and I'm going to commit. Some days, it might be a tiny painting. Some days it might be a rough sketch. Somedays, I might hate it, but I'm going to do it.

Would you like to join me in a creative challenge wherein you create 100 things in 100 days?  Take a look over at the official rules, which are about bending the rules to fit your lifestyle and your creative needs, then leave a comment here, and I'll create a 100 in 100 sidebar of participants.   What the hell! I'll also create a 100 in 100 group board on pinterest and invite you to join so you can pin your challenge. Just leave your pinterest account in the comments.

Are you ready for a challenge? It's scary when you start out, but it's so satisfying. You can do it, you know.

What Can Be Found In Shadows (Be Happy)

What Can Be Found In Shadows (Be Happy)
acrylic on paper, moleskine notebook


It's all a mystery, to me, this process of creating.

I never know what I'm going to end up with, even though I have a plan and an idea. Even thought I think I know what is going to happen when I sit down to create, I never do.

So although creating is a mystery... I have become the detective, following the clues and searching out the next truth. Just like an episodic mystery show... I find the solution to this mystery, and another mystery is laid out before me, like a cliffhanger, hooking me into the next show.

I had the idea of a woman lost in flowers, or coming out of flowers. I remember seeing something on pinterest, and pinned it, but didn't go back to it when I started drawing.

 And then when I wanted to paint something this morning and took out my moleskine, there was this drawing ready to be drawn. It wasn't what I planned, but I followed the clue.

 Then I thought about an under painting. I wanted to use pink, but I also wanted to have blue shadows, but I wanted them to be subtle... so...

 And I knew I wanted to work with black, dark brown and cream, along with the pink of the flowers that I had planned. And this is also when I added the pink to the face, it echoes the flowers as well as giving that blushing look. For some reason, I made the skin around the eyes pink. Perhaps it was just a whim, or perhaps somewhere in my head, I wanted the tenderness of pink eyes, like white rabbits, or girls who have been crying.

 Then I started to add in the green for the foliage. Although I like a limited palette, I knew I wanted a lot of green, and wanted it to look loose and irregular.  I'll tell you a little secret here...instead of just randomly adding green for the leaves, I wrote words, very loosely all over the background. I wrote "be happy" in messy script, in many directions, overlapping the other words. You can't see it at all, I checked. It just looks like loosely painted foliage. And actually, I probably added more green than I would have if I hadn't written it on there. I also added another shade of rosy/browny pink to the roses for shadows and to the face, also.

This is also where I striped her shirt. I didn't want the foliage to take over her shirt, but I also didn't want it black. I'm really pleased with the stripe. It adds a graphic note, but still acts as camouflage. Most of the paintings that are in my moleskine right now have a lot of camouflage going on in them... and I'm not sure why. (A mystery for another day.)

 Then, I spent some time on the face, painting over the under painting with titan buff, mixing some with the brown for shadows. You can still see some of the pink under painting, but she no longer looks eerie.

 Then I added some more brown for emphasis. I'm not quite sure I don't prefer her without dark brown. I kind of like the baldness of the face without eyelashes and eyebrows, but I did it, so I went with it. Maybe I'll try another portrait sometime with a nice open face. But she does have brown/black hair, so it would make sense that her eyelashes and brows would be dark.

 But to tell the truth, I was feeling that she was a little fussy with all the tiny brushstrokes on her face, so I took a bigger brush and covered most of her face with more titan buff, leaving just the details on the features.  I love titan buff. I don't care if it's not really flesh colored. I also added in a tiny bit of white high lights. I wanted her to look a little moist, tears and tenderness and light.  I added some black to the hair, to give it a little depth, and added the black heart. The original sketch had the heart pendant and I wanted to keep it, but for some reason, I didn't want it to look like a pendant. I wanted it to look like writing. I suppose because of the writing that is camouflaged as rose bushes. These are details you would never know unless I told you. And look here, I just did.

The last step, I tried to make her hair look curlier, don't know why, just wanted to. And then I brought the curls out into the green, to integrate the two colors and make the girl more a part of the rose bush. I added brown curls all the way through the painting.

So there I've gone and demystified my painting process.

That's what happens when I have my camera sitting on my kitchen table on a sunny day, next to my painting

Flying Girl and the Wave, or I Am a Part of It All

Flying Girl and the Waves, or I Am a Part of It All (revised)
Acrylic Paint on Moleskine, 8"x5"


This painting is actually a revision of a previous painting, done almost three years ago. I was not comfortable with the original green in all those years, I'd look at the painting and then put it away again. There was something I liked, yes, but also something that I just didn't like.

Flying Girl and the Waves, or Go With the Flow

Oh, okay. Here it is. I didn't change that much except I painted over the green with various shades of blue. And then, all of a sudden, I was not only okay with it, but I really liked it.  The problem was the color scheme, I'm sure. It was all too hot, and too close, with the yellow green and the yellow gold and the goldy brown. There wasn't enough contrast, or something.

Sometimes I takes a while for me to get a handle on what is not exactly working. Sometimes I need to take a break from whatever it is, ignore it, put it away and just not bother with it.

There's nothing wrong with failures. Isn't that an odd thought?

It's okay to fail.

Getting things wrong is good.

I'm just trying to get a handle on this concept. But how? you say. How is it okay to fail? Failure is bad, isn't it? Failure means you can't do it, you messed up, you didn't live up to expectation, you got it all wrong, oh woe is me I'm just not good enough. Right?

But here's the thing... from failures, we learn. When we make a mistake, we learn what DOESN'T work. By understanding the not-no-negative, we can discover the outline of the positive. Just like you can draw a chair by focusing on what the chair is not, the air around it, the negative space. What isn't the negative space is, ta-da! The Chair.

And here's the other thing. Just because something doesn't turn out doesn't mean it's a dead end. Once you have something to work on, you have the ability to work on it. Sometimes a blank page is much harder to tackle. I took out this old painting and I had a place to start. I fixed it up and started to love it. If you can look at something old with new eyes, if you can objectively see the good in something, and also see what fails, then you can work on making it succeed. Sometimes the distance of time allows you to see things without all your old feelings and thoughts and preconceived notions attached. You can re-vision it. You can revise it.

I am comforted by the fact that I can look back on my archive, on my history, on my past and find things that I can use today. I can learn from past mistakes and bring those lessons into the present. I can also use what I've learned in the intervening years and improve on the failures of the past. I can go back to the things that I have done and bring them back. I can do it with an old painting or I can do it with an experience. For instance, I am not teaching High School anymore, but I learned so much from the experience, and I can pull on those skills I learned, in many, many areas of my life.

Think back in your life to an experience or project or lesson that did not work out the way you expected it to, something you gave up on or put away. Are there things that you can take from that and bring into today? Are there unfinished projects that you gave up on that are ready to see the light of day again? Any trunk novels or afghan squares that need to be crocheted into a blanket?  Are there "bad" projects that you can now give a new life to? Take some time and look at your own archive, your own history. Is anything ready for your re-vision?

Self Portrait, or I Am Made of Lessons

Self Portrait, or I Am Made of Lessons

gesso, torn vintage book pages with drawings, acrylic paint, moleskine notebook

Yesterday, while dinner was cooking, after blogging and browsing pinterest and planning and organizing, I had the sudden urge to paint. And then I laid out my stuff and painted. Just painted. No fuss, no talking, no worries, no self doubt, no questions. I just painted. 

I had an idea, which bubbled up after looking at this and this, after many weeks of thinking I wanted to give some interest to my grounds, but not really knowing what to do. After many weeks of letting the desire to take up painting again simmer on the back burner while I lived my life and went on organizing my thoughts and my work space and my supplies.  

I grabbed an old moleskine notebook, and opened, not to a blank page, but to one that had already been prepped with a wash of blue.  Then I went to my collection of scrap papers and found an old Alice in Wonderland page that I'd already started to draw on but had never been satisfied with.  Then I gessoed the painted page, and I ripped up the Alice in Wonderland altered page and fixed it to the gessoed, painted page, then I gessoed that. 

And then I took a quick snapshot of my face... which is often much easier than using a mirror... and started painting, quickly, almost carelessly. First the eye, then the other eye, then the hairline swooping around to the cheekbone, jaw, the other cheekbone. Place the nose, the lips, the hair. Adjust the eyes. Add some pink, some warmer colors, shadows, hilights. Touch ups. Done.

It went so fast and so easily that I never even thought to take process photos. It was done before dinner was ready. And voila. Almost effortless. As if it came out of nowhere.  But that is an illusion. 

I'm really happy with this painting and I impressed myself with the way it came out. Paying attention to only those few minutes when I was painting makes it look like magic. Looking at the end point only, as we do so often with things that are successful, makes it seem like these accomplishments are miraculous, the gift of genius, something that is unreachable for us lowly people here on the ground.

But the truth is, I didn't just paint this in 15 minutes. The act of painting, took 15 minutes, but so much went into this painting, it was actually 40 years in the making. Without even considering my last few weeks of thought and organizing and browsing and intending and wishing, there are years of observing and practicing and failures and struggles and art classes and photography and playing and doodling and self assessing and museum going and reading and sketching and finding out what I like and color matching and collaging and journaling and so on and so on. 

Anyone who achieves at anything has been working on it for a very long thing and putting into it the result of many different lessons learned. No one starts out knowing how to be a great artist or a great anything. 

You just keep at it and you get better and better the more you are willing to fail.

I show you this one successful painting, but you do not see the pages that failed, the sketches that were covered over, the drawings hidden in folders or deep in journals from years ago. You don't see the 10 years of self portrait practice in my twenties, where I could often be found with a mirror and some drawing tools. You don't see the other pages in that same moleskine where self portraits hide because they're just not right. Actually... sometimes you do see those, because I have a tendency to show even some of my failures here on my blog, because I believe in showing the man behind the curtain of the wizardry. I believe in transparency and process. I believe it helps us to know that no one is perfect and failure and struggle is part of the process... not just of art, but also of life.

We fall down. We make mistakes. We get up and keep trying until we figure it out. Until it starts to make sense. Until we start moving forward. Until we find success.

Just like this painting, we are made of the failures and successes that came before. The stories read, the extra paint that we didn't know what to do with. The discards and the yucks. They make us what we are. Just like this painting, you almost can't see what was on the original ground. You almost can't see what was behind the painting.... but it's there.

Putting On My Writing Hat

Put On My Writing Hat
acrylic, sharpie, on paper moleskine

Yesterday, I decided to do some sketching. I drew a self portrait from a quickly snapped digital picture. I know the chin is too prominent, but that's what happens when you use sharpie. You're stuck with it, more or less.

Sketching turns out to be a good way to start my day. I don't know if I will make it a habit, I only have so many minutes before I have to get going on my regular days, and there are always so many different things that I'd like to start off with. But this day, a day off of work, turned out to be a good one.

Getting ready to nano, I am starting to get my outline together. It's never as much time as I want, but it's what I have. I put my hat on, my "writing hat", before I got started. It kept my brains from wandering all over the place when I was trying to write. I know it's probably silly, but I also think that it might be a good sense memory-association to cultivate. Hat goes on: girl goes writing.

I took my hat, pulled together a writing folder, gathered up my index cards, collected my pens, printed out my previous notes, and headed to the cafe, where I stared out the window, drank a latte and ate coffee cake, and began a snowflake outline.

The funny thing is, I only had a couple of hours to write, but while I wasn't writing, I got so much else done. Cleaning and cooking and working with kids and painting and blogging.

It is so terribly hard to sit down and start writing when you haven't been writing and you are out of practice, but when you actually get started, the momentum can carry you forward in all sorts of productive ways.

And that's what I'm working on, getting a creative momentum going, building up those good writing habits, pulling together the supplies I need, getting out the ideas so that I am not stopped by "what do I do next." And staring out the window, mulling things over. That too.

What do you do to get your creative momentum going? Do you have creative habits? Talismans? Schedules?  Routines?

I Am Not Lost I Am Just In Camouflage

I Am Not Lost I Am Just In Camouflage

acrylic on paper, moleskine

5x7" 7/12/11

I did this yesterday. Took most of the day to paint and futz around with my art work. I did this one, and also, I've kind of been trying to figure out what style I want to paint portraits in. Sometimes it feels too cartoony, or not cartoony enough, too modeled, not modeled enough, too rough, too realistic, too pretty, too ugly.

I don't know if other artists have this sort of dilemma. Sometimes it feels like I am struggling with it because I am basically a weekend painter. Between the kids and the job and the house and the writing and the wasting time obsessions, I don't have enough time to dedicate to experimentation and creating and discovery-- the journey. But maybe that's just a story I tell. If you add together all the years I've been working on art, the moments after bedtime or the summers before kids, the painting sessions with my tiny watercolor set, the sketching while at work, the doodling while in meetings, the classes I've taken, the museums I've visited, the books I've read, the classes I've taught, the crafts I've concocted, the photos I've taken... this is the life of an artist.

Just because I don't do it as my full time job, or because I didn't get an MFA doesn't mean I'm not an artist. I've spent 35 years developing my art. I'm lucky because I was born to an artist and was encouraged even when I was very young, but I think we all have a tendency to devalue what we have achieved, our own personal journey, and only see what we do not have.

What makes us artists? I believe that all humans are inherently creative, an artist is simply someone who focuses their energy on developing that creativity, on growing and experimenting, on discovering who they are and what they have to say, and honing their skills.

We can be artists at any stage of development, and as artists, we might very well have different purposes for being artists. While one person wants to be the next Sally Mann or Kiki Smith or Chuck Close, another person might just want have an outlet for their personal self expression, with no desire to show or create a commodity at all. Me, I think I'm somewhere in between.

I would love to be able to make a career out of my art and writing, to not have a day job, but I also think that I would do it anyway, even if I never made any money at all. And more than making money for me, I want to be an artist who teaches and enlightens others.

I suppose that's what my blog has become. I share my journey, sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, but I do it so that I can shed a little light on the creative process, share with people who need inspiration, and perhaps find some sort of balance between living and creating. I don't know if I achieve that, but I try.

As for the painting, I am slowly developing a style of figurative work that pleases me. When I was painting the picture above, I went back to some old paintings that I wasn't satisfied with and adjusted the faces. Yes. What I thought was done, was not done. I might still continue to work on them. The process is never done. Or I suppose it is done sometimes, when you let go of a piece and send it out into the world or stuff it into a drawer... or maybe not, because you can revisit the images or ideas, they can continue on.

Oh just like life. Our process is ours. Our life is ours to develop, no matter what other people are doing. Just stay true to ourselves, try to be us, not someone else. Keep going. The journey is not over until we give up on it.

Keep on trucking.

(this painting inspired by this photo)

This is What I Would Do, Grounded Girl

What I Would Do, Grounded Girl

acrylic and gold paint pen on moleskine, 5x8"

I painted this one yesterday, inspired by this image. My addiction to pinterest DOES pay off.

Anyway, I've been very caught up in house hold duties. It is my first end of school as a parent, and I am making all sorts of plans to help my son get ready for first grade, since he was still struggling a little at the end of kindergarten. I've made a school alcove and project plans, and have started on some other things, like a paint chip alphabet set. I'll show those when I get a little farther along. I've got a star chart for overcoming challenges, finishing projects and chores and have even made a little box of treats for them when they've hit a certain number of stars.

A lot of work.

I have, however, been letting the novel writing slide. I was at a place in the rewrite where I realized I needed to delete another chapter, and it all seemed like it was going so slow, and I was realizing that I was not able to do this writing thing full time, seeing as I have a job and kids to take care of. For a while, I thought this meant that I should give up, that I would never get to the point I wanted to reach, never finish this book, never publish.

But I think that was part of the process.

When I stepped back a little and realized that this was a marathon, not a sprint, it helped. When I began to think about how everything in my life feeds into my dreams, where I want to go and what I need to do, I stopped thinking that "this" (being the life I am actually living) is blocking "that" (being the life that I dream of living).

So yesterday when I started painting, I was half way into the painting, with all it's layers and ticks and hatches, and I realized that THIS was what I would do. Remember the long term goals, and add up all those little seconds and small efforts and baby steps, and realize that these are what get me to my dreams. These are the things that build up and create the dream as a real thing, not a fantasy.

This one. This life. It's the same as that one. That dream.

What small things in your every day life are leading you, slowly, to your dreams. Honor them.

Not Knowing and Releasing Attachment

Not Knowing

acrylic and paper, moleskine

5x8"

Life is a mystery.

It is an unknown.

Even if you make plans and believe you know where everything is going, there never is a guarantee.

But you've got to keep trying. You have to have faith that everything is going to work out in the end, or if it doesn't work out, that you learn enough to make the failure worth while.

I like art when I don't know where it is going. Sometimes, when I get too secure in my artistic vision or technique, I feel like I am stifling. I like the questions that are embedded in my creating. I like the results of chance that happen when my brush goes over the page and changes a shadow or silhouette. I like how different colors react against each other. I like being able to consider whatever is happening on my page, taking it for what it is and working to make it more pleasing or more meaningful.

It is hard to do this with life sometimes, when you are expecting certain outcomes and then you don't get them.

I think this is the Buddhist concept of releasing attachment, and it has always been a difficult one.

We think we should have THIS result.

We don't get it.

We are dissatisfied.

What if instead, we live life in the way we go about creating a painting:

Have a rough idea or sketch in mind.

Pick up a brush and take action.

Step back and look at the results.

Decide if those results work for you.

Take action to either change or accept those results.

Move on to the next step.

No railing against fate. No fighting with other people about not getting what you want. No resentment or feelings of failure. Just acceptance of what is. Action without anguish. Moving forward.

It seems like a life lived without attachment, accepting the what-is, would be a much more peaceful kind of life.

But I do believe that releasing attachment requires that you have quite a bit of faith. You have to trust that in the end things will come out all right. That you will be all right. And even if you don't have a guarantee in the results, you need to have enough faith in yourself to believe that you will be able to handle whatever happens next.

Maybe that's why releasing that attachment is so hard, because it is hard to have that kind of faith in yourself.

Oh, and I know that being an artist is not as easy as all that, too. I know that it is hard to release attachment and have faith in our ability to create something beautiful and moving. I know that some artists will burn everything that they have ever created because they are so tortured. I know that when we create, we are also fighting all our demons at the same time. It's interesting to see how creating art can be such a mirror to living life. And I'm glad I get to practice living in my creating. It helps me see the living part with just a tiny bit more perspective.

Standing Still and Dreams

Standing Still/Porch Steps

I took out my camera to take a picture of Ivy riding her bike, and when I turned it on, this is the image I saw in the screen. I said, hells yeah, and snapped a picture. I loved all the textures, the different colors of gray, the leaves, the slippers, and then my constant companions, a journal and my big honking bag.

And then when I was looking for a work of art to post today, I was choosing between two paintings, (yes I have a back log of paintings) one of which I like better, and then this one

Standing Still/Flying Girl

acrylic on paper, 8x5"

I said, it's the same thing.

Standing still, grounding oneself, and still managing to fly.

This is the tension of life, my life, at least. Finding a way to be grounded in the every day living while still letting the imagination fly, while still being creative. A balance between ideas and reality. The dance of the dreams and the what-is.

I can't say I've mastered this dance. I'm still learning the steps. And these steps keep changing. Always new ones to learn.

How do you manage to balance the real world with your dreams?

Believe

Believe

acrylic, fabric sample remnant, paper

8x5"

Quick post while dinner is in the oven.

Sometimes, I get an idea that has to be done right then... but I don't have the materials that match my vision. So I search around until I find something that feels right and then I see what happens. This is one such case.

I think this girl looks a little more modern. I don't know what that means, except maybe in this modern world, we get caught up in the daily expectations and understandings and forget to believe in our pasts, our selves, our dreams.

I've also been thinking about National Poetry Month. I agreed to write a poem a day, but you know, I've been feeling these drawings and paintings are somewhat like poems. I've only written about 3 or 4 poems this month, but that's more than last month. So I'm good.

I am trying not to put myself to such a demanding challenge as a painting a day or a poem a day. I am thinking I'd like to revise five pages a day, but that's just because I want to finish this novel and stop putting it off. I'd like to do more than that, but I'll take 5 pages.

I don't want to burn out. I don't want to expect so much of myself that I can't help but fail. I want to allow myself a natural growth and exploration that might come with time to think about projects or down time or revisions.

So in that spirit, I've started writing poetry, I've done a half dozen or more paintings of a new journey. I've revised 33 or some pages. That's in only a couple of weeks. A little gentler on myself.

I'm trying not to equate my goodness with my production. I have a life to live, you know, not just a quota to make. I am not an art making machine.

I should draw that... an art making machine. That would be funny.

How are you managing your life/work/creating balance? Are you making yourself into a machine, or giving yourself a chance to live?

Projects and Creative Process

Sketch, unfinished

From The Sketchbook Project

Where oh where have I been?

I had a little bit of a breakdown, actually. Oh, not like that, but after working furiously this weekend, and marinating in angst over finishing my final draft and synopsis and query letters before November 1st so I could start nanowrimo, I realized that I needed another pass of revision, more research on agents, and more time to write a good query and synopsis.

I will not be able to send out my novel this week. Period.

Even though it is better for my book and for me, once I realized that, I got a little funky. I felt like I was trying so hard and working so hard but no matter how hard I tried, I was always left with nothing at the end.

Of course, that's not a true feeling. I am not nowhere now. I have worked hard, but my novel is there, all four drafts of it, and I am farther along in the process than I have ever been. And some time off from the first novel means I will be able to get more feedback from my readers, and have time to make a really good query letter, which is all important. And I will also be able to add another layer of meaning to the book, since I am writing the sequel. (Oh I know people say to sell it before you write the next book, but I would write it even if I didn't get it sold, I do it because I love it, so, thus my decision. And I don't want to miss nanowrimo.)

The truth is art is a process. And something huge like a novel is even more of a process. Or this sketchbook, which is not about one page, but about the whole thing.

I am starting my sketchbook project. My theme is "If you lived here..." It wasn't my first choice of theme, but I had technical difficulties and couldn't get the shopping cart to take my order (for weeks, seriously!) until I changed my subscription and when I finally ordered my journal, my favorite themes were taken.

But, I enjoy a challenge of theme and inspiration, and I thought it would be interesting to see what came up.

I did my first sketch while waiting for my son's school bus. And the second one, too a few days later. And then I realized how much I love some of these cool old houses here in my town. Wondering about what it's like to live there.... And whabam, I had my way in. Not sure what this project will look like when it's done, what it will be like to live there, in that project, but I'm giving it a shot.

But let me tell you, I don't intend to just sketch houses. Something is going to happen to these houses over the course of the next couple of months. I plan to sketch a bunch, fill the book, and then go back over it and add color, detail, print, collage... whatever feels right. I'm thinking Art Every Day Month can help me with getting this done before the deadline. I'll probably have to return to my post bedtime/primetime tv painting schedule to get this done. And I'm looking forward to seeing how the sketchbook project (which I won't get to keep) will affect my art in general.

So that's where I am. With not much final work to show you, but hip deep in process, and done with the angst (for now).