Alien Freaks aka Cute Li'l Guys

Alien Freaks aka Cute Li'l Guys

(all following) about 4" in diameter, felt, thread, rice.

designed by Gabriel, Ivy and me, sewed by me.

Here's a thought: Do we value the special unique qualities that make us who we are?

Or do we think those little quirks about us make us somehow wrong? Somehow not good enough? Freakish? Flawed? Ugly?

I made these beanbags, by hand, for Gabriel's 6th birthday party. The plan was to use them in a beanbag toss game and then let the kids take them home for a goody treat.

I had to squelch down my worries that they wouldn't want a dorky handmade goody treat. Or that my flubs in stitching would make these rejects. Or that no mom would want a kid to bring home a thing stuffed with rice. Or that the designs would not be cute enough.
But guess what? Every kid, from 4 to 11 snatched one of these little babies up. They picked the ones they liked best and those were owned.
Even the first attempts, the wonky little guys with wonky little eyes and wonky little tentacles.
And you want to know what? Even the one that was left over... I took it. Mine, I said, defending it greedily from six year old paws. Mine. I pinned it up over my desk. They didn't understand the delicate curlycues and the subtle color scheme, but that one was mine. The kids liked the wonky ones better. Go figure.
I'm even going to have to make replicas of some of the ones that went away for little girls who want friends for theirs.
What is this all about?

This is about trusting your own uniqueness, your own alien beingness, your own wonkiness. Someone out there will love you the way you are. Someone will love what you create with your own two wonky hands. And even if they don't, what you do is just the path towards you learning who you are, what you love, and how to make it.

Trust. Keep trying. Look with unbiased eyes at what you do. Look for the loveliness, not the flaw. Imagine your work was created by someone else and see it for what it is, without your own feelings of unworthiness and not-good-enough-ness getting in the way.

Loving yourself, is the key. Believing in yourself. Trusting in your vision and your process.

Saying yes to who you are and what you do.

What do you want to make of this world of yours?

colored gel pens, ink, sharpie marker, recycled menu

4x8"

What DO you want to make of this world of yours?

It is possible to make it, did you know that?

That's the first step to changing your world, to creating something new, to transforming yourself, to breaking out of your rut... believing that it is possible.

This is where art can help with transforming your very soul.

Art makes things possible. It creates them as a reality, even before they are a reality. As humans, when we imagine something, when we ponder how it could be created, when we mark down the boundaries of something, we are taking steps to make the ideas real.

Sorry to sound as if I am a text book, but I myself am trying to create something in my life. And I know the first step is to imagine it so clearly I can see the steps to take to make it real.

This very drawing/doodle/sketch I posted above is an exercise in creating what I want in the world.

Facing the empty page, I said, "what do I want to make in this world? what do I want to have? what do I want to see?"

What I wanted was positivity. What I wanted was energy. What I wanted was about giving, not taking. It was about belief and personal power. So I drew it.

And look at me here, today, the very next day, being positive, energetic (yes I washed the dishes before sitting down), sharing, and believing in the very possibilities I am creating.

Make the world you want.

Imagine it.

Believe it.

Take the steps towards it.

Live it.

It could be about a personal mindset, a zen belief in life, like here. It could be about creating an etsy shop. It could be about writing and publishing a novel. It could be about making an ice cream cake when you never have before.

See. I did that too. It was pretty tasty, although not perfect, and not without troubles in the execution. But I did it, and I could do it better next time.

Creating is about making the world you want to see, and it is about standing in your own power.

You can do it.

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)

Strangers in a Bar

This is my second post in my July photo challenge. And my second picture. The theme for this was "strangers."

It was a hot day. The air conditioning was nice. The cold beer was nice. Sometimes it's nice to just sit in a nearly empty bar by yourself and be a stranger. Yes, I think I was the stranger.

And in an attempt to not be a stranger to my blog readers, I am trying to get back to the habit of posting. Even if this is the July 4th weekend and everyone is out doing summery celebratory things and this isn't exactly an enlightening post.

The theme for today's picture will be "lunch". I might be able to manage this.

See you tomorrow and have a happy Independence Day. And if you don't celebrate Independence Day, have a happy Sunday.

Night. Street.

Night

I'm going to try to do this photo challenge, here. I've been such a bad blogger lately that I need a prod to get me going again, but I don't know if I'm up to doing any of my old painting a day things. I like to take little photographs and my camera is easy to carry around, so I thought this might help me blog better again.

This photo above is my first attempt to fit into the challenge. The theme is "Street". Is it kind of fudging the challenge if I take these moving-car-on-the-road pictures quite often? Oh, who cares. The challenge is the commitment, not each individual theme. Today is "Strangers" and that will be harder for me because I am a rather private person. I don't like to bother strangers. (Never mind the public blog, ok? I don't mean writing. Writing is not the same as being face to face with strangers.)
Rain. Green. Street.

watercolor on paper 5x8

In fitting with the theme, I did a watercolor sketch a few days ago, in my journal. More than the painting itself, I think it was important that I sat out side on my porch with my watercolor set and actually painted.

It was good to sit in the moment and focus on what the moment was about, not the future or to do lists or worries or things to do or any of that. Just the moment, the rain, the green and the gray, the paint, the paper.

Paying attention to the world you are living in. Paying attention to the moment that is happening right now. This is important.

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.

Tumbled, Four Self Portraits

Tumbled, Self Portraits. 1-4

Sharpie, Acrylic Paint, Recycled Chip Board

Yesterday, I had the urge to paint a self portrait. I actually painted one a few days ago that I was not pleased with. I thought, I don't really know what I want to paint... but really, I didn't know HOW I wanted to paint.

So I snapped a picture. This is it. I took my hair out of the bun, and it tumbled down. And I liked the motion in the tumbled hair, so I decided to use it as the basis for a quick drawing/painting.

Then I had some 3x4 pieces of chipboard that I had cut out, because I like to cut my recycling into useful bits. Then I took a sharpie and drew out a quick contour drawing. Moments, it took only moments, and that's the way I liked it.
Tumbled #1

Then I filled the face with titan buff, and outlined the features in black, colored in the hair, added some pink, shaded a bit with pink, buff and black, painted the background with cobalt turquoise and buff, then added the white hilights and shirt.

Tumbled #2

Then I took out another piece of chipboard and did it again. I was afraid to ruin the first one, because I liked the expressiveness of it. Thought maybe I couldn't do it again, it wouldn't be the same, I would lose whatever it was I liked. Except that didn't happen. The next painting, using the same techniques was different from the first, and in some ways better. Some things worked even better. I even went back and added some of the things I learned from the second piece into the first piece, taking from both sketches to improve the painting.

Tumbled #3

Each time I started over, I came to the painting with more to give. And I learned more from each painting. And each painting became it's own, important, individual thing, with something new to reveal about the subject. I like the swoopy feel given by the contour sketches. I like that the features don't stay the same, but there is still emphasis on the same things, the eyes, the cheekbones, the jaw and hairline. I like the way the hair changes shape each time, tumbling through the variations.

Tumbled #4

This is a great exercise to try, to lower your own expectations of yourself, to handle your own fear of not doing things right or not being perfect.

I spent twice as much time on that other portrait (which I'm not showing you) and like it have as much as each one of these. There is something to be said for loosening up, and not being so attached to a perfect outcome.

Try it yourself. Try to make small sketches of the same theme. Or take your recycling and turn it into something, without worrying that you are ruining something valuable. Or take an old story that you have given up on and chop it up, rearrange it, remove characters or throw in a plot twist. Take an old shirt that you no longer wear and make it into something for summer. Chop it up, stitch it back together, add something that is special, but not precious to it. Accept it for what it is, and then make it loved.

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?

Cells and Building Blocks

Cells and Building Blocks

pencil, pen, watercolor on paper

5/26

For the last six years, I have been struggling to remember who I am. Where I want to go. What I really want to do with my life. My art.

This is confusing, because I am who I am, even in this time of kids and jobs and housekeeping and normal every day living. I am living my life and I am thankful for the life that I have, but at the same time... it's really hard to maintain focus when there are so many things pulling on you.

This is a different way of living than it was when I was single and had all my free time to devote to writing, art and dreams. Now, half the time, I am still devoting time to writing, art and dreams... but it's the writing, art and dreams of my kids. I don't mean that metaphorically. Working with G on his school work and practicing writing. Setting up projects and helping the kids in their painting, plays, music performances and other creative outbursts (also cleaning up from said creative outbursts). And dealing with nightmares, midnight wakings, bedtime routines, as well as the kids adventures in discovering their own dreams for themselves.

A fully worthy focus.

Except I can't help feeling frustrated at my inability to keep up with my personal goals.

As usual, this blog is about recovering, maintaining and exploring my creative goals. Since the very beginning, when I was trying to get back to being creative after having two kids, this is what it was. But I am creative again. I've found my voice again. Now I want to be heard.

This is a different journey, although a continuation. And I am writing this while the back of my mind ruminates over the bad chapter that I am revising in my novel. I want this book done. I want to finish my synopsis and send it out with my query letters. I want to get OUT in the world.

You'd figure if I really wanted to have my voice heard, I would post more than once a week, but like I said, it is hard to keep my focus in this busy world of living. I guess it is for everyone. And the only way I know to reach for those seemingly unreachable and frustratingly close goals is to take baby steps.

To paint one journal entry.

To write one extra blog entry this week (this makes 2 this week!)

To spend an hour before work (or after or at bedtime or whenever) revising my novel

To carry my "How to Write a Synopsis" book with me and read it whenever I get 15 minutes

To add another print to my etsy shop

To crochet a granny square or two while watching SYTYCD (it's back on, yay!)

To slowly work on organizing my workspace

To take notes on my synopsis in those slow moments at work

To have an artist date with my daughter where we can both paint and draw

To take photos whenever the need strikes me

To never give up on those things I really want, even when my efforts seem useless and it seems I have been working on them for an eternity without much progress, to never give up

To believe and remember and commit even though it's not perfect or easy

To never give up.

I said that part a lot. Never give up. Maybe it's a midlife crisis, wondering if all these years of effort are worth it. But I guess I decided it is.

I'm still at it.

You don't give up, either.