How To Reappear

How To Reappear: Listen To Your Heart Beating, by Rowena Murillo

The process of coming back from a fallow creative period can be very difficult.

Uhm, like, REALLY difficult.

I think we do a lot of self flagellation over not being able to create. Hand wringing, hair pulling, shirt rending. Metaphorically, I hope.

If you're an artist, shouldn't it be EASY to create? Shouldn't it come naturally? Shouldn't it be something you want to do and like doing? Shouldn't it be fun?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. It should.

Except for when it isn't. Because sometimes creating is hard and it's like pulling teeth and you want to avoid it because it is facing things you really don't want to confront and it's not fun at all because, goshdarnit, it is hard work! And that is just as it should be, too.

So, yeah. I've been in a deep creative funk, at this point for a couple of years. I'm always trying to get it back, I'm often doing projects and writing novels and snapping photos and writing in my journal and taking workshops  and doing challenges and these are all good ways to get your mojo back, but in some ways, I've lost my direction.

At some point, I have to pull all my little projects together and make it mean something. Something for myself, give it a purpose.

But what happens if I don't know what purpose I want to have?

I wonder, maybe, if this is the reason for my creative slump.

Maybe instead of spending my time with figuring out what projects I want to do, or how I want to do them or when I have time to squeeze them in, perhaps I need to spend some time working on WHY I want to be creative.

Why? What is my purpose? What fills my life with meaning? What is that something that keeps me going?

Another problem.

How the heck are you supposed to figure out that?

To answer that, I refer back to the drawing. Follow the things you love. Follow the things that fill your heart with gladness. Follow the things that make your heart say "yes." Just keep following them.

Take real steps to make those things a part of your life. Find the "yes," say "yes" to it. Do.  Don't imagine it, don't say "oh that's really nice, I should try that, what's playing on netflix?" (btdt)

Do.

Create.

Write. Just Do It.

Write, or Pink Smith Corona

To reach your dream, you have to make a commitment, a real, solid, painful commitment, much like a marriage. It's a better or worse kind of scenario. It's the kind of commitment where you forsake all others, and give up other things to stay true to the dream. If for instance, you dream of being a writer, you may think only of the wild and alive story that you have brought into the world, the glories of publishing, the swagger of being that writer with the pen in hand and the journal, sitting at the cafe like some Parisian bohemian, drinking strong black coffee and pouring his soul out onto the page. But being a writer is often a lot uglier than that. It's struggling with the days when the words don't come. It's a deadly dull day job or grinding financial struggle. It's rejection letters. It's fear and insecurity. It's isolating. It's the hundreds of pages that you have to delete because you were just going down the wrong track. It's your laptop dying when you didn't save, when you had finally figured it out, and were *that* close to the masterpiece of your dreams. It's that moment when you say, "Forget it. I give up. It's too hard."

A lot of the time, when we think about our dreams, we only see the hilights, the pretty pictures, the golden light streaming through the windows and the joy of achieving what you have worked for all that time.

But the truth is, dreams are hard work and they have shadows, too. They are full of struggles, confusion, failure, drudgery, dust bunnies, neglected children, neglected health, being broke, lonely days, detours, breakdowns of many varieties, long stretches of silence, block and giving up.

But if this dream is really your dream, if you love the journey, not just the idea of accomplishment, if you love the work, then trust yourself, trust that when you come back, your dream will be waiting for you and you can climb your way back onto the path. But, it's hard. Don't think it will be easy. If you really want this, and you have lost your way, you will have to claw your way back, regain the ground that you lost inch by inch. But believe in your dream and believe in yourself, because it's that belief that makes the dream possible, even when it seems like it isn't.

PS  This is my 1000th post. I think that is why I've had such a bloggers block this year. I knew this momentous post was coming up and I wanted to make it a landmark, important. I made the stakes too high and it kept me from writing. One Thousand blog posts. ONE THOUSAND. Even thinking about it kind of blows my mind. So perhaps, instead of making this a special post, I will just quietly go back to writing my blog, one post at a time, the way I wrote every one of those thousand entries, without trying to make it momentous. Maybe I'll reward myself with a new sweater. Or a cake. Cake is good.

PPS I'm also doing nanowrimo this year. Is anyone else taking the challenge? I am rosymamacita over on nanowrimo if you want to buddy up.

PPPS I have prints of Write or Pink Smith Corona up for sale in my shop. You notice it says "Write" not, "Hey, why don't you think about writing and avoid the blank page until you are absolutely 100% sure you have it all perfectly down and will not make any mistakes and really really know what you're doing and are totally confident and the circumstances are just perfect and you're not tired or stressed out or don't have to go deep clean the kitchen." Just write. Do it.

PPPPS Yay me for sitting down and writing this blog entry instead of just thinking about it for more weeks on end. 

Reintegration and finding yourself not lost

Reintegration by Rowena Murillo

There are times on our journey where we might find ourselves lost.

The answers that we are accustomed to do not address the questions that we are being asked.

We might find ourselves confused, and aimless, at a loss.

What now?

Here's something that I have learned over my long journey.

These times of crisis are not a failure, they are part of the process.

The important questions will be asked again. The important answers will have meaning again. And the important paths are the ones we are still walking, even though the signposts no longer show us the way.

Keep going.

You will find yourself again.

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.

Hush or Keeping It Inside

Hush, or Alice Keeps It Inside
4 3/4 x 7 1/2"
ink and acrylic on vintage Alice in Wonderland book page

I've taken a little blog break. You see, I've had a lot going on.

I know I was blogging last year when I was in the midst of a move and I was blogging all my art from my 100 days challenge but I think that I had a moment to stop and think about where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do... and in order to think about that with my blog, I had to stop.

What I've thought about doing lately is making my blog more intentional, and I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to do it yet.

Sometimes there is virtue in being quiet.

In quiet, we can start listening to our internal voices, and these voices can whisper very silently sometimes. We have to stop talking, stop declaring ourselves, stop shouting to the world, just so that we can hear the whispers of intuition, emotion, idea, belief, desire, fear, hope, story, inspiration.

I know that it can be hard to be quiet and still, to not jump right in to actions or decisions. Sometimes, when you get that initial idea, it can be so exciting that you want to race to the finish line and go all in.

But the truth is, very often, the initial idea, or even not so initial, needs care and silence and darkness in order to grow to fruition. I've seen it with story ideas, for sure. I get a great idea and I want to start writing, but something in me tells me to hold on, let the idea germinate, let it grow and become stronger, let it feed on different thoughts and experiences, mull it over in the darkness. I sit with it deliberately, jot down a few notes, go to sleep with the idea in my head, throw in another intriguing concept, stir them up a bit and still... still hold on to it, silently.

There is no need to rush to speak it.

Not yet.

Hush. There is time to let it grow.

Head of a Girl 14 or Marilyn in Rose and Dreaming

Head of a Girl 14, or Marilyn in Rose
ink wash on watercolor paper
4.5" x 6"
1/6/13

I've been thinking about dreams lately... not the close your eyes at night kind, the big kind, the kind that get you up in the morning and get you moving. The kind where you envision a life that you'd love living. The kind that are about goals and wishes. Those kind of dreams.

Marilyn Monroe was a dreamer. She put herself out there and she was hurt. She never stopped being vulnerable and I think she achieved her dreams... although perhaps sometimes those dreams ended up being painful and sometimes she had to sacrifice for them and she definitely experienced loss in their pursuit.

When you commit to your dreams... what happens?

When you take steps to achieve your dearest goals... how does your life change?

When you accept that this is the risk you are willing to take and this is the cliff you are willing to leap from... how do you learn how to fly?

btw Marilyn is for sale in my etsy shop
https://www.etsy.com/listing/119788654/head-of-a-girl-14-marilyn-in-rose-ooak

Girl of Freaks: a novel of not werewolves (pending)

Girl Of Freaks: a novel of not werewolves by Rowena Murillo (cover mock up)
ink, acrylic and pencil on paper

This year, I am going to do my damnedest to get my novel published. It's ready, now it's just up to me to put it out there.

When I told Jen Lemen of this goal, she gave me an assignment to create a mock up of my novel cover.

Immediately, the impulse is for me to say, "no, that's not what I had planned for the day," but considering that I say "no" too often, and my word for the year is...

yes
sharpie, tape residue, and "vintage" foam core board.

..."YES" it was time for me to try the challenge. I took out my ink and my journal and searched for a likely photo reference (my first instinct was to use one of myself, but I really didn't want to paint myself for my book cover as the mc is not me) and got going.

This is what I did. Of course, when I get published, this will not by the cover. I'm not even sure it's the best cover for the book, but putting it out there, visualizing it, making it a real thing helps me to focus on my goals.

Thank you Jen for the good assignment and giving me a leaping off point for the rest of my year.

Abundance and 96-100 in the 100 days creative challenge,

 Branched
gold acrylic paint and pen on paper
96/100

Yesterday was my 100th day of my 100 creative works in 100 days challenge.

Woo hoo.

I actually did it. I didn't even cheat. I missed two months of painting and drawing because of my move, but I was able to get my grove back and restart my creativity. Maybe it's a good idea that I did commit to finishing this task, against the odds, because it meant my creativity didn't get lost in the many duties of moving. And life. Don't forget life.

This is a painting of a branch. In gold. I had extra gold paint on my palette from painting another picture, so i wanted to use the last of it, and I've always loved those twisty branches, so... No special meaning behind it.

Monster Plans
watercolor, pencil, pen on paper
97/100

These are plans for a horde of monsters I am going to make my son for Christmas. A kraken looks an awful lot like an octopus, and godzilla looks an awful lot like a T-rex. Interesting. The plan here is to use felt and cotton knit and buttons and embroidery floss.

I need to do less planning and more sewing though.

 this bowl is full of abundance
pencil, water color, ink wash and acrylic on paper
98/100

This is another empty/full bowl. This one  I designed with gold leaves and pomegranates to symbolize abundance. The bowl is marked with hatches, which to me always represents time. The background is a dark, deep brown, like fertile earth.

An incomplete symbology

ink and watercolor on paper

99/100

Speaking of symbols, here I drew out my own study sheet. I was just thinking about some of the symbols I seem to use over and over again. Sometimes when I paint, it's a kind of language, I paint stories... or parts of stories, and the symbols are part of the meaning making. 

Too many years reading and writing poetry. :)

Miniature doll in progress
paper clay, silver wire
100/100

And for my 100th work of art, I am posting a paperclay doll that I started. She's not done in the slightest, but I don't feel bad about using a WIP for my last entry. It's a new challenge for me and I have been wanting to try it for ages. Plus, I think it looks kind of cool unfinished, just the white paper clay and the silver wire.

It was even better before I dropped it while the clay was still damp and it landed face down on the floor. She got a little smooshed. Oops. I tried to fix her the best I could. I think when she's dry all the way, the paint will go a long way to making her look better. What I've seen of the tiny dolls people make, they don't have to have all the details in the clay. You can just give suggestions of the features, then when you paint her face, she gets her personality.

I intend to give her hands and feet attached to the wire, then wrap the exposed wire with florist tape, then make tiny clothes out of fabric. I do not know who she will be. She might be a woman from the 30s or 40s... as I think about the hair style that I kind of molded a bit already. We shall see. Whatever she develops into, that's part of the fun.

And I guess that's why I picked this piece for my last entry, instead of another piece that I completed... because where I'm going in my creativity is still unwritten.

I think I've entered some territory that is new to me, and have developed some techniques and ideas that are rather interesting. That's one of the best things about doing this challenge, watching how you develop as you go. It's such an extended project, one of small babysteps, that you can actually see the journey you make and you can see how one thing leads to the next.

And so now I'm done and I can relax on the posting, but I do hope that I can continue with my art work and see where it takes me next.

I do recommend this as a challenge for anyone. It is a challenging journey, but if you keep your daily goals small enough, it is not impossible. You'll notice that whenever I got behind in my count, my art work would get smaller and simpler, and that's okay, it still moves you forward. If 100 days is too long a challenge, you can do a month of art works, or  43 days. Or whatever number suits your life. It's committing to the creating that makes it worthwhile.

Re-Vision and the Past 93-95/100

 re-vision
acrylic on paper
93/100

I spent all morning and afternoon painting yesterday and then ran out of time to post. I am slowly catching up to my 100 works in 100 days goal. Of course, I've been neglecting other things. Well, life is about sacrifices isn't it?

I feel like today's post shows a departure for me. I'm not quite sure where it's going. Maybe it is more intentional and less improvisational. I'm okay with that, although it takes a lot longer to do. Thus all day painting and running out of time.

I did start with a symbol, the eye, one that has been a common refrain through out my artistic life. Mostly doodled on notebooks when I was a kid. I read somewhere that it was something about "being seen." I don't know. Maybe that's go something to do with where my head is at nowadays.

I know when I got intentional with it, I began to think about what I KNOW my life is about nowadays, and that is reviewing my life, my work and my goals, and revising and re-visioning it all. I kind of like that I am taking symbols from the past and rethinking them again. Or art supplies from the past and seeing what I can do with them. Or vintage photos from the past and recreating them from my perspective. (I found piles of photo albums from my own family, my ancestors. I should really try to incorporate them.)

this bowl is full of hope
acrylic and graphite on paper
94/100

I saw an illustration of a bowl somewhere and since then, I have been slightly obsessed with the symbolism of the bowl.

It is an empty receptacle. It holds whatever it is you put in it. It is also used to hold offerings, to other people, to the gods, to yourself. You can not fill the bowl unless it starts out empty. The emptiness of the bowl is what allows it to hold the gift, the sustenance.

I drew it in pencil and painted half of it. It is not unfinished. That was intentional. There's something about the bare bones of pencil drawing that I like. As if it is being created. It is also without color. It is work a day, functional, not really meant to be shown. It is what belongs underneath the surface.

I also wanted to show the marking lines for the words. This bowl is laid down to it's essence, this is what it is made of.

The inside of the bowl is the color of a spring sky. Hope. The outside is a pattern of pencil circles that remind me of stones.

The background is half painted with the swirls, kind of reminiscent of steam, or vines. Something growing, something rising. I painted it with titan buff, because I wanted it to still be white, but a white with color, as if it was hope alone that changed the plain white paper of the table to the color.

head of a girl 13 (tori amos)
ink wash on paper
95/100

I saw a High School picture of Tori Amos, and although she was not "quite" as vintage as the other photo sources I've been using, there was something about the loveliness, the imperfections, the romantic curly hair, the youth and hope of a girl who would become something powerful and darker as she grew... I just wanted to paint it.

And I wanted it to be pink and girly and dreamy.

She doesn't really look like her, but I wasn't really trying to make her look like Tori Amos. It was the feel that got me and the feel I was trying to convey. I thought a too-close portrait of Tori would be distracting.

Well that's what I did yesterday. Hopefully I will be able to paint some more today so I can keep my momentum going. I have four more days of my self imposed challenge, and only five more pieces to do.

I CAN DO IT!

But Wait, There's More, 85-92/100

 There's a light
acrylic and gel pen on paper
85/100

Spent yesterday and this morning trying some stuff. I had this page of dark blue, awaiting something or other. I think I managed something or other.

Be Present
acrylic on paper
86/100

Then I thought I'd try painting a bit of something around me. Sometimes, when I don't know what to paint, I remember that I can look outside of me and paint something in the real world, not just in my imagination.

But I added some imagination anyway. Scallops take a long time to paint, did you know that? They take a bit of attention. Sometimes painting almost feels like meditation.

Green Hand
acrylic on paper
87/100

 More scallops. Smaller. More attention. More hands.

Blue Chair
acrylic on paper
88/100

 Back to real life. Sometimes I like to practice my visual acuity, paint what I see. This turned out pretty well except I did not judge my paper very well and the chair ran off the edge of the page. :( Oh well. That's part of what you do when you paint. Composition. Maybe I'll try painting this lovely antique desk chair again, and this time have it stay on the page. I did like how I managed the cane back, though. And the dark and light of the shadows, that was nice. I love to watch the paint bleed into the water, I like the spontaneity it gives. It's lively.

one step at a time
acrylic on paper
89/100

One of the things I do when I paint is try to use all of my paint. I had a whole bunch on my palette, was I supposed to let it dry up and go on to the rest of my day?  I refused. Still didn't know what to paint though, so I wrote myself a message.

Upon retrospect, I think I should have tried the chair again, just to see what came of it.

but wait there's more
acrylic on paper
90/100

Maybe this is because of the extra paint I was still trying to get rid of.  Or maybe it's a message. Transitions are hard. Very often they feel like endings, deaths, losses. But there's always something beginning, being born, and gained. Kind of like that whole Aztec calendar thing. The world might end. Then it will begin again.

 Revel
acrylic on paper
91/100

Or maybe because there was actually more painting coming. I'm feeling the scallops, and decided to go back to some past imagery from my 100 days. The silhouette.

Aloft
acrylic on paper
92/100

And here was a tiny sketch that I started and never managed to finish. So I went back and painted it in and gave it some scallops, because why not? and I was feeling the scallops. It took most of the morning to do a lot of these paintings, although a couple of them were finished last night.

I am working hard on catching up. I have 4 more days and 8 more pieces to go. Almost there. I'd love to get back to the place where I can just post one piece a day. And I need to get started on Christmas, too. Phew.

Well like the drawing said, but wait, there's more. There's always more.

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.

Pulling it Together 67-71/100

 Head of a Girl 8 (Tilly Losch)
ink on vintage Alice in Wonderland Page
67/100

Like I said before, I am trying to put my house together, trying to pull together all the pieces of myself and my art and make it whole again.

It's remarkable how confusing and disorganized things can get. Or sometimes maybe we just need a break. Maybe we just need to step back and get some distance so that we can look at things and say "yes, this is what I want," or "no, this is not where I want to go."

So sometimes it helps to stop the go go going and be silent, to see what once was there, what is there now, and what you want to be there.

Found Still Life
(flowers, pencil, miniature houses, toy leash, and vintage contact paper on the counter)
68/100

This one is a case of looking and seeing what is already there.

I looked down at the corner of my craft cabinet counter, and saw this little still life, just sitting there. I gasped and grabbed my camera and started snapping away. It's where I'd tossed a few things that I was done with, the little houses from yesterday, the handful of garden flowers that my daughter gave me, whose stems were too short for a vase, the yellow pencil, and the broken purple toy leash that I told my daughter I'd fix.

It's interesting, because although it took me a few tries to frame it right, and I did remove extraneous items away from the composition, when I tried to "make it right", when I took away the junky purple toy leash, the composition went flat.

It was there. And I needed to pay attention to it, to see it for what it was, a snap shot of life, color, line and texture. Movement in stillness and discards. There's something about those bleeding heart flowers that seem to me to be always moving, even when they are just sitting there, wilting.

"Day" Flying Girl Articulated Paper Doll
acrylic on paper, metal brads
69/100

And then, sometimes, you have to work and think about something, plan it out and put it together.

I've been thinking about making a Flying Girl Paper Doll for a while, but never got around to it, because I knew it would be a bit of work and commitment.  Sometimes life is like that. You take ideas from the past and finally sit down to work on them, make them into something, even if you're not sure that they really will work out.

 Reveal
Pen and watercolor on paper
70/100

Here's a sketch I made, without real plans, just allowing it to come to be, although, again, I am pulling on past sketches and motifs.  I don't think that everything is actually revealed, here, even though it's called reveal. Perhaps time will be the big reveal.

Belated Bunny with Big Legs
Repurposed velour, cotton knit, buttons, thread, polyfill
71/100

And here's the stuffed bunny I started almost three years ago and never got around to finishing. It went three years without eyes or legs.

Even now, my daughter tells me that the legs are wrong and I need to make them smaller. I guess she's right, they don't really fit this bunny.

Belated Bunny (detail)

But she's kinda cute anyway.

Well, I continue to try to pull together my house, and my art and my writing. I'm working on my synopsis for my novel and my query letter... something that has needed to be done for quite some time.

Like I said, sometimes it takes a commitment to pull together all the disparate efforts, all the history and the knowledge and the ideas. And sometimes it takes a re-commitment, after a period of silence.

We shall see.

Experimenting. 49-60/100 in 100 days

Pout

ink on paper

49/100

I stopped pouting about being overwhelmed and behind and having so much to do and etcetera, and decided to pick up a paintbrush and dip it into some ink and paint on whatever came to hand... mostly old papers that I found in my boxes from three years ago.  

Imaginary Face 1

ink on paper

50/100

Experimenting with ink and brush. I found this too dark. The face was... well, an experiment.

Imaginary Face 2
ink on paper
51/100

Still too dark. Meh.

Face 3
ink on paper
52/100

Liking the light wash much better.

 Head of a Girl 1
ink on paper
53/100

Found a vintage painting by Martiros Saryan, to use as a reference. Liked the head tilt and the shadows. Continued experimenting.

 Head of a Girl 2
ink on paper
54/100

Found a photo reference (lost alas) for this head of a girl

 Head of a Girl 3
ink on vintage book paper
55/100

Really wanted to paint more of the first girl. Ran out of scrap grid papers though. Moved on to pieces torn from a book I altered, many years ago (10 years?). I do so love vintage book pages. And they go with the vintage image inspiration. And the sepia toned ink that is from a vintage circa 10 years ago.

Head of a Girl 4
ink on vintage book paper
56/100

Still loving her head tilt, and the line of the neck and the shoulder. Kind of like how each painting has her looking a little bit different.

 Head of a Girl 5
ink on vintage book paper
57/100

Wanted to try it with a different reference photo. Tried this one. Her name is Nita Naldi. You might recognize her from here. She's a femme fatale. Do you notice the title of the page is "Death?" Unintentional. It was just the scrap paper I had left over.

Man Reading on the Subway
ink on vintage paper
58/100

Saw another vintage photo source. Thought I'd try something different, something less girl-y. Shoot lost my photo source. Darn it.

Head of a Girl 6
acrylic and ink on paper
59/100

Back to my Head of a Girl. This time, I wondered what would happen if I played with some things. Color. Shape. Tilt of head remains, neck, shoulder, and the shadows. A little bit of the Leonor Fini influence.

Head of a Girl 7
acrylic and ink on paper
60/100

Another version of my head of a girl. I like her. She looks more fifties than thirties style. And reminds me also of this girl.

Here are a couple days of experimentation. I was having fun and I liked the way some of these turn out. I think sometimes you have to delve into an idea and see where it goes. Although, sometimes you also just have to lower stakes and try new things.  A little bit of both, maybe.

Let's see what I come up with next. I am not as far behind as I was last week. And I still have a few more days to catch up. Gotta keep moving.