Garden Girl and the Soft Place to Land, or Quiet Season

Garden Girl and the Soft Place to Land, or Quiet Season
88/100 in 100 days creative challenge, 8/31/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic

Me, I don't feel so well. Feel like drinking orange juice and eating chicken soup, so I hope you don't mind if I just post this timely painting which I started weeks ago.

I am on painting 88 and this is day 92 of our 100 in 100 days creative challenge. Today, I am working on my magic cat painting and I think I'd like to do an artjournal of lists and dreams and goals.

Okay, everyone take it easy. Be creative. Be happy. Keep on swimming... or go curl up on a sofa with your journal. Or a good movie. Life is for the living, and sometimes it's for the retreat and recuperate.

Bold

Right before it goes down

I don't have a painting today. Oops.

But I still wanted to post, because I've been doing a lot of internal work, and frankly, I need to get my head straight before I move on to the painting that the boy is bugging me for right now. He wants a magic cat. He keeps asking me why I'm not painting. And the girl doesn't want to take a nap.

Pushy kids.

Anyway, I've got lots of plans and dreams and hopes for my future, and yet, physically, I feel very stuck in stasis. It's an interesting dilemma. To want so much and start on the journey for it all and then have it moving oh-so-slowly.

But then I read this post about mondo beyondo goals and started to think about what it meant to be bold.

I have these bold dreams, you see, but before I can achieve them, I pull back. I get timid. I ask for less than I want because I am afraid to put what I really really want out there. Afraid I ask for too much. Afraid perhaps I'm not worth it all. Come to think of it, I was like that with boys when I was young. I never let them know that I really liked them so they never knew and I never got them. "Got" being not a very good term in this context, but you know what I mean.

Back to the present day. I still have that habit to ask for only small things. To whisper my desires. To NOT be bold.

Oh geez. You know what this means, right?

I just dared myself to shout my desires. Oh crap. If anyone else ever dares me to do something I just roll my eyes and ignore, but I can't accept the fear conquering me anymore. If I'm scared I have to face it. I have to give in to the taunting of the bold me, who doesn't usually get to be incharge.

So listen. Hey! You! Universe! I'm talking to you, and I'm putting my intentions out there.

And I'm putting my biggest dream first.

To have a creative compound where I can live happily with my family, and creative people can come and stay, for retreats or workshops, where I can have a cheerily running studio and gallery on an old farm with all of it's out buildings where all the magic can happen. For everyone. I want magic for everyone.

That's my big dream. It feels almost impossible from where I am now, but maybe if I work on my smaller dreams, it won't feel so outrageous.

To finish my trilogy and make wonderful and get a great agent and a great publishing contract that begins a substantial career as a professional novelist.

To teach online creative courses and be able to do what I love to do while still staying at home with my kids.

To go to Blogher in NYC.

To make a good living with my creativity, art, words, teaching.

To make really good friends and be a part of a vibrant, supportive creative community.

To write a book on creativity and have it published.

To grow my etsy shop into a self sustaining machine.

To paint large canvases (I've been small too long).

To show in galleries and sell my art.

To develop WE into a bicoastal business with my two friends.


Okay Kelly Rae? Are you happy now? I'm going to keep going. I'm going to tackle my goals boldly. And if I can't do it all right this minute, I'll tackle the ones I can. I will work on my etsy shop. I will talk to my two friends with whom I have been developing these WE workshops for YEARS. I will work on the material for the chapter in the creative book. I will GET BACK TO MY NOVEL.

And I'm going to keep from telling myself that it is all too much. I'm not going to overwhelm myself. I'm just going to take it one step at a time. And if I have to take a break for the living of life, I'm going to do that and then I will continue to take bold steps as life unfolds.

Now you.

What is your bold you daring you to do? Declare it to the universe.

everything is made of light and shadow

everything is made of light and shadow
87/100 in 100 days creative challenge, 8/26/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic on paper, 5x8" moleskine

Can it be that it is simultaneous? This light and shadow?

I'm pretty sure it is.

There is no light without shadow, is there? It's the same Earth, whether it is night or day. The same coin, whether heads or tails.

So why are we grasping so hard to every little bit of light and pushing away the dark? Why are we afraid of the dark?

Are we convinced that light is the only good, that dark is somehow evil?

I think I'm afraid of the dark. Afraid I won't be strong enough or that it will never end or that there really are monsters roaming in the night, ready to eat me.

What if I never come out of the dark?

But I've already proven that I can withstand the dark. I've already proven that in the darkness when my eyes are closed, I see true visions.

Maybe it's the embracing of the dark that helps us not only survive, but thrive. Maybe if we accept our own darkness (grief, sadness, loss, fear, poverty, constraint, hunger, anger, dissappointment, loneliness, exhaustion, ______ insert dark here) then we won't feel the need to hang on so tightly to the inevitable dying (and rebirth) of the light.

Maybe if we don't hang on to the light so tightly, then the natural cycle of day and night can continue. And in the dark, we can do what we need to do, unafraid. And in the light, we can enjoy it and not run from the deepest shadows in fear, even as the sun is still shining brightly.

Luck, Ladybug

Luck, Ladybug
86/100 in 100 creative challenge, 8/25/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic on paper, 8x5 moleskine


Oh lovely, lovely epiphanies. When the light seems to glow with a warmer touch and the moment is the perfect moment. A time to stop and say, "Yes, this is life and it is good."

And then the moment fades. You go on. You stumble a little. The dancing has worn you out so you snap and yell. Someone says a little something that makes you doubt yourself. Your back hurts. Bedtime is drawn out. The food is less than stellar. The phone doesn't ring when you want it to or it rings when you don't. You sit up wasting your time when you could be doing something productive or at least sleeping.

Oh, life moves on after epiphany.

And what I've decided is that is okay.

We're not here to be perfect or to have perfect days or perfect lives or be the perfect mom or the perfect blogger or the perfect artist or the perfect partner or the perfect anything. Perfection is the antithesis of living.

Imperfection is vital and messy and what we learn from, and what makes the beauty more breathtaking.

So if I woke up this morning to a ladybug on my bedside table, and an epiphany about moving and music and breakthroughs and I knew in the doing of it that this was a great day, but the day slowly slid into pissiness and mama's short temper, then I'm going to say, hey, that was a complex day. A complete day. A full spectrum of a day. And when I fell asleep at night, I'm not going to obsess over where I fell down that day, but remember the lady bug, and the moments, the yeses and the nos. The life. My life.

Here's a youtube video called Moments that was brought to my attention by Jena. I swear I'd been planning this post long before she posted this video. Hm. Some more synchronicity.

and if the clouds cover the moon i will continue on my travels

and if the clouds cover the moon i will continue on my travels
85/100 in 100 creative challenge, 8/24
Golden Fluid Acrylic

The world is broken open.

It's made of music. And dancing and colors and laughter and cinnamon muffins.

It's not all the way broken open. We haven't broken through our shell yet. We haven't gotten through this hard season. No, it's not done, but the colors are showing.

The music is leaking out.

Can you hear it?

The nature of the world is for the darkness to let go of it's hold and to allow the sun to rise.

The lost are found, or they find themselves where they are, and grow there.

Irony here. I start this post and on my soothing pandora station, up pops Cat Stevens' Moon Shadow.

Just another incidence of synchronicity.

I don't think I have anything else to add to this post.

The Flowers Grow, or A Little Rain... Time... Passes

The Flowers Grow, or A Little Rain... Time... Passes

84/100 in 100 Creative Challenge, 8/23/09

Golden Fluid Acrylic on Paper, moleskine, 5x8"

Life is a challenge.

The point of living is not to avoid pain or hardship, it is to experience them, as well as joy and ease, and to come out the other side with something new, something good, something that enables you, you crazy human, to be stronger, to survive, to grow into the next phase that you have coming to you.

I actually see a lot of avoidance of pain in American society. We think more money is better because it makes our lives "easier." We think upset and sadness should be taken away with drugs. We don't want to try to do things that are too difficult, because it feels bad to us when we fail. We are afraid of fear and afraid of pain and afraid of struggle.

But, if you look at nature, struggle is intrinsic to... well... nature.

A baby bird struggles to break free of his shell.

A lion struggles to bring down that wildebeast.

A dung beetle struggles to roll that big piece of shit up that steep hill. Pardon my French.

Humankind did not get where it is by lounging on it's perfect butt beside a terraformed pool in Palm Beach.

Ju know what I'm saying?

So what am I saying and why am I saying it attached to this painting?

Well, A glimpse of a botanical print online gave me the leggy, weedy shape and lemon-greeny color, but then I took off with my hatchmarks and patterning and as I went along, the only thing I could think of was rain drops. Rain drops that never ended, raindrops that took away Summer and made you have to sit inside for months on end, raindrops that caused floods and the walls to grow damp and leaks to start and the roof to threaten cave-in.

And then I thought...

Well, the rain ends. It always does. Even biblically, you know?

The sky clears. The land is fertilized and fed. The flowers grow.

Listen.

The flowers grow.

We Argue over the Flowers, or Laugh

We Argue over the Flowers, or Laugh
83/100 in 100 Creative Challenge 8/21/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic on paper, moleskine, 5x8"

Ivy wanted blue flowers, but I didn't think they'd go with the green background. They were white at first. She cried a lot. We compromised with pink.

But you know what I've really been thinking about?

Life.

Ha ha. No small issues for me, just small kiddoes, big issues.

No, but really, I've been thinking about those things that make life enjoyable. Because it isn't always roses and moonbeams, you know what I mean?

What is it in our perpective, in our living, that allows us to be happy?

I really do think it's just relaxing into the reality of life and accepting it for what it is. If I go about with my agenda, and life doesn't fall directly in line, whether it's a kid interrupting my my blog posting, or a delay in finding a good job, I end up being dissatisfied.

So it seems the best way to be is to just live in the moment, accept what is, enjoy the day.

HOWEVER...

There are also things I want to do in my life. When I allow my life to be taken over solely by immediate concerns, I find that I end up in a stasis of physical needs and no movement to life.

I recently realized that in ten years, I will be very close to 50... and there are so many things that I wanted to have done by 50. But if I don't get on the ball NOW, I won't have them done by 50.

I need to focus on my goals. I need to remember my dreams. I need to take the daily steps to get down that path.

There is a tricky balance that needs to be found between these two things, living in the moment and working for your dreams.

Taking steps towards what you really want without harboring an agenda for what you think it's all supposed to look like.

I believe this is called nonattachment.

I believe it is the part of Buddhism I have always had trouble with... but it makes more sense now than it did when I was a kid.

Maybe by the time I'm 50 I will have it all figured out. :)

How do you balance your daily life with your deeper goals? Got it figured out? Still struggling?

Orange Butterfly in a Terrarium, or Fly

Orange Butterfly in a Terrarium, or Fly
82/100 in 100 creative challenge, 8/20/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic on paper, 5x8"

I took yesterday off. Yes. I feel good about it. I did it on purpose.

This is what they mean when they talk about making peace with your life as it is. I could easily have kicked myself in the rear all day long, thinking about how I should post, how I needed to post, how I really OUGHT to post, and then not posting. Or even if I did post, think about all the misery as I browbeat myself into submission all day.

The truth is, I've been posting double pictures, I am doing fine on my 100 in 100 days challenge, I'm even a little ahead. I don't NEED to post every day. I am not bad because I skip a post every few days. But even if I don't need to, I often keep in the back of my mind all the things I should be doing if I were great, better, best, perfect.

Enough.

Here I am, imperfect, in my imperfect life. And I'm just trying to keep on going and be productive and care for my kids and paint and (er) write (er) and you know, enjoy my life. Well, the hardest thing (aside from writing) has proved to be enjoying my life.

Maybe that's why I'm painting these kid directed paintings of flowers and animals. Because these aren't about concepts, they just are. Just what we look out and see in the garden or on a PBS show or just what we like in that minute. I'm just looking to bloom where I am planted, even if I am imperfect.

Plus, this butterfly, I like to think she's just come out of her cocoon that has been inside this cozy, small terrarium. I like to think this butterfly, she's about to take off and live her brief, brilliant life to the fullest.

Transformation, you see.

Singing and Silver Skies

Sing...Yes, Large Red Flower

80/100 in 100 Creative Challenge

Golden Fluid Acrylic on paper, Moleskine 5x8"

I'm into the flowers lately. I think the conceptual nature of Flying Girls have made me tired. I feel like I have to try so hard to make them mean something. With the flowers, I get to explore color and paint texture and composition and pleasing shapes and patterns (which I'm really digging lately) and just let it be. The meaning might come later.

For instance, I showed my uncle this painting and he said, "well! that really sings!" and I said, "yeah." And that's what it became.

This isn't really so diaristic as the Flying Girls seem sometimes, an extension of my own personal journey. I am exploring letting go of my things, listing some of these things on etsy as original art, not prints. Things that I will release for others to enjoy. It's kind of hard, especially when they are documenting my personal journey.

Brown Earth and Silver Sky Traveling

81/100 in 100 creative challenge

Golden Fluid Acrylic on Paper, Moleskine, 5x8"

Like the traveling series. These are also an exercise in letting go. I'm putting all of them up for sale as originals, even if I love them. Sometimes it is easier for me to let them go if I use metallic paint on them, because it doesn't reproduce well, and I can't sell them as prints. I don't know what that reasoning is about.

But I do like the airiness of them. I like the horizon in the distance and the feeling of movement. The peace. Like sitting in a train and watching the landscape go by. Nothing t to do but listen to your thoughts and write in your journal. I used to love long train rides. :)

One of the things I think is interesting about this painting is that it was done with the paint that was leftover on the palette from painting the Sing flower. The bright, electric red and orange and green, and cream, when blended turned into a subtle earth color. So much richer than just using a single paint color. When I had the wash of beige on the paper, I thought, now what can I turn this into? A traveling painting would work, I decided, and the contrasting color that popped into my head was silver. I know it's strange, beige and silver, but... I've seen it. In clouds, in distance. So I went with it.

Sometimes letting go of your expectations, letting go of compartamental thinking, throwing things together and seeing what comes of it, sometimes that really works out.

Sometimes it fails miserably... but isn't it better to take the chance and try the new, scary thing and have the 50/50 chance of making something great, than to always play it safe and never really reach your own potential? Because we know that we are not trying, and that gets into us, sits on us, that knowledge that we aren't going for it.

Take the chance. Try the new thing. Fail. Fail better.

A Boy's Vision

Everything is Possible, or Whale in a Bowl
78/100 in 100 creative challenge
Acrylic on paper, 5x8

Another piece commissioned by my kids. He asked for a whale in an aquarium, and I thought I'd try round instead of square. And paint makes me feel like it's more finished. He's really into aquariums, terrariums and pets right now. He's moved on a little from making movies, but he may be back. Oh the obsessions these kids have.

Anyway, he picked these colors. I never would have picked them. But once I started, I could see how they would work. G, however thought the whale blue was too dark and he yelled at me to change it,(ah those tantrumming clients) however, I held him off until the colors were all in and he could see what they looked like together. I said I would change it if he didn't like it, but in the end, we were all satisfied. These colors remind me of a boy's outfit. Brown cords and a bright shirt. Actually, I think this would make a good tshirt.

The words are mine, of course.
B is for Blocks, or build.
79/100 in 100 creative challenge
Golden Fluid Acrylic and Pitt artist pen on paper, 5x8"

This was first a sketch of a block tower G did. I was impressed with the precarious tilted balance of it. (please no one mention the unfortunatel phallic appearance. I didn't notice until later, but I still like the colors and paint treatment.) Then G demanded that I paint it and these are the colors he chose... sort of. He wanted multicolored blocks, but I went ahead and did green.

Anyway. I've been thinking about my inspiration and about my self imposed constraints, lately.

When I first thought about getting back to art, after having my kids, I thought the only/best way to do it was to integrate my daily life (mothering) with the art, allowing my kids and my day to inspire my art. When I first got back to this blog, that's what I was doing.

When I started to paint every day, I carved out the time to commit to making art, but I created a limited theme to work with. That's when I started Flying Girl... or when I took her up again. She was an image I first painted in college. I limited myself to Flying Girl so that I didn't have to come up with new inspirations every day. It allowed me to get back into a routine and to explore my craft and to expand my definitions while not making me crazy trying to figure out what to paint every day.

I'm very thankful to Flying Girl even if I don't always paint her everyday.

I've kind of gotten off of the "limiting my creativity to one theme." I think I've broken into the painting habit and no longer need such tight constraints to feel comfortable. I have gotten used to being an artist. I can now do Flying Girls or Travlings or Flowers or sketches of my day or Child Inspired drawings. It feels good to expand, but there was a time when having that freedom would have frozen me up. There were too many choices for me to go deep.

Where in your life do you think it would serve you to have fewer choices, instead of more? Where could constraints allow you to go deeper into your life, your craft, your experience?