The Artists Life - The Game Of Life

   Who thought a classic board game that's been around (the modern versions anyways) since the early 1960's would be the source of this weeks blog? Our two oldest grandchildren expressed a deep interest for the game, so my husband Dave went to the local big-box and purchased the newest version of The Game Of Life for a mere $15 including tax. During the weekly grand-kiddo visit, we engaged in a wild, laughter-filled, sometimes stressed out, three hour jaunt into this board game. First off, this is not the same version I played as a child, nor even the one we played when our kids were young - not by a long shot. And what on earth does this have to do with art or being an artist?

   While some aspects were similar, like choosing our careers, numerous things were different. I was totally bummed that the profession of "Artist" was no longer available. What?? So, I became a doctor with a 130,000 dollar salary each pay day. Okay - not bad. For some reason, my husband Dave was a secret agent. Apparently, you now go to college for this. He also had a hot pink car, so he must sold Mary Kay products as a part-time job while in school. My grandson was an actor, until he got fired for bringing his cat to work, then became a singer. My granddaughter was a dancer, but also got fired (for sleeping on the job) and then became a professional softball player. Did you also know that when a player gets married, you have the option of choosing a same-sex or opposite-sex partner? Welcome to 2018.

   Throughout the game, we all went on vacations, paid for various things (besides houses and kids), but also did some pretty funky ventures. For example, my husband purchased a snail farm for $50,000, and I made $90,000 for cooking everyone's favorite pancakes without screwing them up. And this from a person who hates to cook. Glad it was worth ninety large for me. Another "venture" I had to participate in was telling jokes so an opponent would laugh. I found that I was seriously out of touch with funny jokes that I could tell an 11-year old and make her laugh. Between the cooking and the panic of not knowing any humorous bylines, I got seriously stressed. On the other side of the coin, I enjoyed a trip to France, made $50,000 from selling flowers from my garden and the home I purchased a "luxury" house. These turns during the game made me feel good.

   I realized something towards the end of the game - it really tapped into my likes and dislikes. My dreams as well as my fears. Either that, or I was being the artist that I am and taking this way too seriously and emotionally. But, as a professor once said, those last two attributes are what make you a good artist. My question is - why does life, the real thing or a family board game - have to be stressful, emotional, and competitive? Perhaps if it wasn't, and life was always massively easy and complacent, it would boring as fuck.

   The game ends when every player retires, sells all their assets, (including any and all houses, playing cards, and even the children!!) and then we all count up our funds. As usual, the person with the most money "wins". A deciding factor for a game, yes. But in real life, no. After the game concluded, my grandson inquired about my latest oil paintings I had completed and were in the process of drying. He asked what was the most money I had ever made form one of my paintings. I responded that to date, I sold a 24"x30" abstract for $1,850 dollars and one of my recent 8"x10" works (that was still drying) sold for $250 dollars this week. He was very surprised. This is one of the big differences between real life and a game. That dollar figure was very real. As a result, I told him I have to take my art very seriously. It's my "true and real" career. It's all fun to toss around play paper money that is supposedly worth $100,000 dollars, and basically engage in fantasy, but real life isn't like that. Lots of victories and challenges. Ups and downs.

   Painting is my life  - and while it's fun, it's also not a game.

   Until nest time,
   Jill

The Artists Life - Ambition 2018

   While cleaning out a cluttered corner of my studio this morning, I came across an issue of Professional Artist magazine and began perusing its pages. The first article I stopped at was all about ambition. The dictionary defines the term as a strong desire to do or achieve something, typically requiring determination and hard work as well as an ardent desire for rank, fame, or power. Ambitions roots can be tied to a striving politician hungering for votes and clawing for power which connotes stepping on others to achieve status or fame. It's no wonder we feel so horrid at times about our own ambitions. They don't feel associated to the creative process in which its purest forms involves opening, deepening, and letting go - not plotting your next power play. So basically, there's nothing wrong with ambition; we just need the right role model or mentor.

   Yet ambition can be a positive force... the reason we push through a creative project. It can be the fuel we need to market our work and to present it out into the world - and not at the expense of others. I consider ambition to be a projects life force that moves through me... an activated desire. I have clarity about what I want and the perseverance to pursue it. I know ambition to be a powerful motivating factor to seeing my projects completion. Ambition has definitely kept me active and pursuing opportunities. I keep applying myself to new goals and stretching for things that may still be far out of my reach in the hopes of getting my art out into the world.

   "What I love about ambition is that "success" is a mountain with no top. There are endless vistas along the way where we get to rest a bit and enjoy the view before trekking on to what will transform us and our work next," states the author of the article Sage Cohen.

   Another article I read in the same magazine was about teaching art online. Hmmm. My inner wheels are turning. This week has alerted me to the wants and needs of various people in my community. I received a phone call from a former student of mine wanting me to teach palette knife painting, as well as possibly some other mediums, at her center of living. Over the course of this past weekend, I spent some time with my only grand-daughter who, off the cuff while I was teaching her the craft of rug hooking, said that I should be an art teacher - that I was good at teaching. I flashed back to the days almost 20 years ago when I taught art briefly in the public school system. Like many school systems today, there were far too many students in one class and I had to assign a grade to each and every art project that came across my desk. I've always felt that art shouldn't be "graded", but each work appreciated for it's merits.

   Eighteen months ago, my husband Dave has procured himself a much better digital camera that also has the capability to take decent video. When I received the magazine I was currently re-reading two years ago, we did not have the skills nor the equipment to produce a quality video. Perhaps I didn't realize it then, but maybe a seed was planted. Last night, the wheels in my head started turning concepts into ideas and things were in high gear. My goal is produce at least ten videos of my paintings from beginning to completion. I will have to re-prefect my knife painting techniques as it has been quite a long time since I've used one on a daily basis. The small local class my former student inspired me on will hopefully come to fruition and that will also get my feet wet again in regards to teaching, as I have not taught a class in well over five years.

   With said ideas and wheels turning in my head, I can sometimes get ungrounded. I had to dig out some of my older supplies and I had Dave go through the huge closet that's in my studio. He was about five minutes into the job when he asked me if I was sure they weren't the corner that I would eventually clean out. I didn't think so, but lo and behold, he was right. This is why I enlist his help with so many aspects of my art business - he keeps me grounded.

   Happiness is discovering. In the end, after all the decluttering, I found I had all the supplies I need to begin on this ambitious adventure. Yes, I am still involved with my sketchbook project that's going to New York and that is ahead of schedule. I won't start filming these videos until March after the sketchbook project is done and off to Brooklyn. I can block out an hour or two each day or as needed. I need to practice my creative process and get used to talking about it - to myself - as I go; that's going to be the weird part.

   I have to remember to take all this one day at a time. First things first. As I finished the article, I put the magazine down and raised my mug to take a sip of my now luke-warm tea. The quote on my tea bag stated the following; "If you let yourself be successful, you shall be successful." Works for me!

   Until next time,
   Jill

The Artists Life - The Important Things

   A man lies dying in a hospital bed and says the following to his doctor; "I spent my entire life stepping on people in order to get where I wanted to be, and now there's no one left for me. It's only now that I realize it's so simple. It's who you love and how you love. As for the rest of it - the rest of it never mattered." This is a powerful lesson found in the latest book I am reading entitled, The NOW Effect by Elisha Goldstein, PhD.

   "It is not too uncommon for people to spend their whole life waiting to start living." Eckhart Tolle.

   Now that I've thrown two very heavy and thought provoking quotes your way, how about psychology story. Trust me - this has a lot to do with art and being an artist. A philosophy professor stood in front of his class holding a large, empty bell jar. She began filling the jar with golf balls and when the balls reached the top, she asked her class, "Is the jar full?" To this, they all agreed. Then the professor took a bag of pebbles and poured them into the jar. Naturally, they filled the spaces between the golf balls. Again, she asked her class if the jar was full, and again they all agreed.

   The sly professor who was most assuredly trying to make a point, then produced and bag of sand and poured that into her jar, thus filling up almost all the remaining space. "It's full now, correct?" The class believing nothing more could fit into the jar proudly stated, "Yes!" The professor took a sip of her coffee and then proceeded to pour the remaining amount into the jar, filling very small voids that no one thought were there. "So what does this mean?", the professor asked. A smart-ass student raised his coffee mug and replied, "There's always room for coffee!" The students as well as the professor shared in a good laugh.

   The professor pondered the concept further; "Imagine this jar represents the space in your life. The golf balls represent what's most important - family, children, health, friends, and things you're passionate about. It's about the things that, at the end of your life, you would be glad you paid attention to. The pebbles are essential but less important - such as your house, car, and job. The sand is all the small stuff in life that you're trying not to sweat. Finally, the coffee - well, you've already answered that one."

   The professor continued, "There's room for all of this, but only if you put the golf balls in first. If you put either the pebbles or the sand in first, there won't be any room for golf balls. The way we pay attention to our lives works the same way. If you spend your attention or mental space sweating the small stuff in our lives, you won't have the capacity to pay attention to what is most imp[ortant to you."

   This story speaks to becoming more mindful of what really matters. Paying attention to the things that make you value in life is fundamental to your happiness. Is it your relationship to your partner, paying attention to your children, taking care of your body, making room for play, or living with greater ease? Time to make a list of what's truly important to you and me. What do we value? For me, it's my immediate family; my husband Dave, my children and grand-children, close friends, and even extended family. Second, my health, followed by my art, my home, car, and employment.

   This past Friday, Dave and I went over to our youngest daughter's house and spent time with her and her two young boys. Her oldest son, was studying about birds, parrots in particular, in school. He loves to draw, so we drew me a nice sketch which took about 15 minutes. When completed, he handed it to me and said, "It's a grand-parrot." We all stifled our laughs. It's moments like these that happen in an instant that makes our lives worth living.

   In the painting aspect of my life - you probably thought I'd never get to this part - I have been asked to teach a senior citizen art class in addition to my busy schedule that involves writing, my art sketchbook project that's heading to New York in the Spring, along with another commissioned oil painting. While it would only be one day a week, it's amazing what the process involves, and the organizations activities director and I have still yet to meet. I've already completed a pros and cons list, but I'll need more information before I can make the decision that's right for me.

   Creating a way to be aware of our values can help us break out of autopilot and guide us back to what really matters. So here's what I want you to do; get a jar and some golf balls or if that's not your speed, maybe some nice stones that aren't very big. Label them with something that really matters in your life. If you don't have a jar, (or golf balls or stones), you can always draw one. Actions do speak louder than words, so check to see where in your life are you actions to your values. Are you taking your partner out to dinner? If you have kids, are you spending, that wonderful 80's term, quality time with them? Are we responding to people as well as yourself with greater kindness and compassion without being a doormat? Are you involved with something your passionate about?

   Not to sound like a cliche, it's your life - make the most of it.
   Until nest time,
   Jill

The Artists Life - Roses In Winter

   For well over several decades, my creativity has gone down a long, winding path. For the past 12 months, I've been meticulously working on a special project, and yesterday, my husband Dave, procured the last bit of supplies I would need to finish it; and it will be completed 2+ weeks ahead of the deadline. It's a good feeling. Those feelings carry over to when and how I create - it's like a big circle. For example, when I create, I almost always have to be in the right mood. When I'm in that state of mind, the muse accompanies me just about every time. When those two aspects come together, I'm most often pleased with the results, whether the work is finished or still in progress. When I'm pleased, it's a good feeling. See what I mean?

   For me, it takes the courage of Hercules for me to sit my butt down, by myself, and focus long enough to begin something new. In most cases, the inspiration comes from a story someone tells me that might spark a vision to follow. Other times, it comes from an abstract of some sorts from nature. A few times, it has come from the photographs my husband takes and then shows me on his computer. If any of my readers live in the eastern two-thirds of the United States, or even if you don't and you've been following the news, just about everyone knows how cold it has been since the day after Christmas. If the temperatures aren't below zero, it's snowing like hell. I'll admit - it's been difficult to doodle snow; all I get is a blank white page. With the frigid temperatures, there has been incredible amounts of sea smoke out on the ocean water and in the harbor which is two blocks from my house. Sea smoke is like fog, and while it hangs low near the water, it looks like a cloud. The farther out to sea you go, the more sea smoke there is. It occurs when very cold air meets much warmer water. But being who I am, and possibly a typical (or untypical) artist, the gray sea smoke lost it's novelty after about a week. Maybe because I knew how cold it was outside and was getting tired of it.

   Dave and I watched a good movie last night with Robert Di Nero and Anne Hathaway, called The Intern. I related to Di Nero's character Ben right off the bat. While I'm not 70 years old nor a widower, he had traveled, read all kinds of books, tried yoga, joined groups, etc., but felt like he needed something else to occupy his time. He wasn't ready to just roll over, be old, and eventually die. He gets hired as an intern as part of a "senior mentor" program and the experiences with along with all differences between him and a slew of millennial's that work for this internet company is amusing to downright hilarious. He ends up partnering with the owner and CEO of the company whose name is Jules, and is literally young enough to be his grand-daughter. Throughout the movie, the relationship between Ben and Jules grows from awkward, to professional, to friendship. By the end of the movie, it seems that Ben is the person who Jules not only trusts the most, but confides in frequently. Through him, she realizes that she doesn't believe in herself as much as she says she does, she doesn't know it all, she can't do it all, but with a little help from friends, family, and close co-workers, she can accomplish these challenges. It also shows that there's no substitute for experience. I related to Ben's character because, like him in the beginning, I sometimes feel lost and drifting through my days while my husband is at work. And yes, I've tried yoga, I do Zumba once a week, I read all kinds of books, I paint, I write, I crochet - and yet it feels like I don't "do enough".

   At times, I wonder about the value of my paintings, my writing, as well as my life, as silly as that sounds. While I've sold a good number of works over the years, I've still created more than I've sold. I need to examine and find new ways for them to be seen this year... and hopefully sold. The literary / art project I'm working on this winter will help curb the tide of canvases coming into my studio.

   However, I had a glimmer of hope after watching the movie. Say what you want - "Jill... it's just a Hollywood movie." Yes, I agree with you. However, there was a specific message throughout the film; You're never too old to learn new things, and you're never too old... period.

   Until next time,
   Jill

The Artists Life - Come Sail Away With Me

   As I write this, 2017 has officially come to a close and 2018 is almost twelve hours old. My blog this week was going to be about a completely different topic, but a few days ago, I found out that a dear friend of mine had also left this Earth. He loved me as a father dotes on his own child. I am forever grateful that he came into my life. As quirky as we were over the years, he accepted my husband, two daughters, and I without judgement. He taught me many life lessons - the foremost one being true simplicity.

   Looking back over the decades, I have to admit that he was an uncomplicated man. What you saw is what you got. His small home and furnishings were, by most societal standards, sparse. There were barely any pictures on the walls, as he didn't want anything to distract him from the view from his house that was right on a lake. One of the most prominent aspects of his life that he cherished was peace and quiet. While he worked hard and provided for his family, I always found it ironic that he worked with noisy, heavy machinery for a paving company for years.

   It was a brief, odd journey over a few days last week that led me to the news of his passing. He had a very small circle of friends that he always kept private about, and according to his oldest son, he did not want an obituary published in any newspaper. I guess you could say that he was humble and modest to the end. However, he always supported me in my artistic ventures, even though he never understood my art. He commissioned an art work of mine for a neighbor way back in the late 80's, when I was just getting started. While he always did his best to appreciate my works, I always found it humorous by the look on his face that somewhere in the back of his mind he must have thought that many of my works were just borderline crazy.

    I remember his small home on the lake, his motorboat, his sailboat, my attempts at water-skiing, as well as the cookouts at sunset. He surrounded himself with beauty, and even though life had it's ups and downs, he radiated contentment about his life as well as his concern for others. Along with my husband, he gave the push to "...live the life that was ahead of me. Search for tomorrow. To try the best I can and to carry on." Even with that thought process, my life seems so vastly different than his. Maybe that's just the way it should be. I oil paint - hence, many of my paintings adorn my living space. In fact, my art seems to take over my living space. In order to sell my art, I have to dress up and put on a "show" of sorts. It seems that at too many times, I have to persuade people that my art and art in general has great value in our lives. Can you tell I don't like selling?

   But, if I don't sell my works, even when I just feel like giving them all away to good homes, I feel like I'm not projecting my worth and thus selling out. Selling myself short in other words. I put a great number of hours into my work and I (as well as many of my artist friends) believe our worth of being paid a fair market value. An elderly gentleman once told me, "... a pieced of art isn't completed until it's in the hands of an admirer." This was at a time when I was attempting to "move" some of my older works at inexpensive prices to make room for more current work. That technique did work as an ends to a means even though it didn't put a great deal of money in my pocket.

   We all know life isn't fair. We're not handed a "life is fair" card or certificate at birth or at any other time in our life. So - what am I going to do about it? I got motivated last year and showed at three different galleries in 2017. However, this is a new year with new possibilities. I am making contacts with more galleries for upcoming shows, as well as getting reestablished on-line and through art licensing companies. A new year... new possibilities.

   I am still alive. "The art of life is to live in the present moment, and to make that moment as perfect as we can by the realization that we are the expression of God himself. The best way to prepare for tomorrow is to make today all that it should be." - Emmet Fox

   "Do what you love." In loving memory of Pete Jalbert.