Sunday, December 4, 2016
The Painting Spectrum - Filling In The Spaces
I came to a realization this week - I'm getting into full-blown Christmas mode. I'm finally done with Thanksgiving and all that goes with it; from all the gratitude to the leftovers neither my husband nor I could handle anymore. It's officially December; our Christmas tree is up and half the house is decorated. In a sense, my studio is sacred ground. All art, all the time. It keeps me focused. The painting I completed this week was started early Monday morning and was finished the next day. Since other holiday festivities and commitments fill my schedule, it was the only painting I did all week.
By Saturday, I started going through art withdrawals. To compensate for this, my husband, my only granddaughter, and I went to the monthly Art Lab at the Center for Maine Contemporary Art where we live in Rockland. We all became involved in a sculptural project, where the instructions were to create any part of the large museum and fill it with "art of your own making". We all started with two black "walls" and a "floor" that all made a kitty corner area that was made from thin foam board. The recreation objects included everything from paper, cardboard shapes, puff balls, baubles, trinkets, (everything from buttons to wire to safety pins), toothpicks, dowels, and plastic whimsies too numerous to mention.
My husband Dave made a very nice piece with geometric shapes using an assortment of objects ranging from wooden objects to tongue depressors. He did a colored pencil sketch and glued it to one of his "walls". He even cut some electrical wire that had connectors on the end and made "wall lights". He finished off his space with a statue in the corner. In the end, it was very symmetrical; but that's the way he is - he's used to balance as well as the "balance of three's" being a photographer. Our granddaughter actually recreated a garden scene complete with an elaborate water fountain. Very intricate but artistic for a 9-year old. She's kind of a combination of Dave and I.
Mine of course, was a little more of a rough journey. Sculpture is my weakest art form and I hardly dabble in it. This project however, was good for me because not only did it get me out of my head, but it got me out of my comfort zone. For me, it's good to get uncomfortable with art - that's how I learn and learn to grow. I began in the corner with a toothpick and a corrugated cardboard shape to act as a free floating sculpture. I used other toothpicks with flower-like beads for other standing sculptures. I crinkled paper for a 3rd sculpture, glued some puff balls and other trinkets on my "walls" and added some resemblance of human interaction by adding a wooden object that was in the shape of a bench. To be honest, I wasn't really happy with it... until I turned it completely upside down. Now everything was on the ceiling as well as the walls. The instructor raved - "...an inverted art gallery or space! That would be awesome!" I liked it; the instructor totally dug it; others just stared on in confusion. Mission accomplished!
Getting back to my painting; my non-artistic friends are starting to get a little leary of coming over to visit me while I'm in my studio. I keep asking them what they think of my latest abstract oil spill inspired works. This week I finished a 20x30 oil painting entitled "Catastrophe". It's almost like a sculpture within that space that has to be considered. In a space close to me or in an area that will be "pushed back", what colors do I use to portray distance?
Red hots allude to being up close where as pastel lavender recedes into the background creating the illusion of more than one plane or surface. That way, the painting doesn't come off as flat. The variety of colors draws the viewers eyes to roam the surface while their mind identifies with something it likes or is drawn to. The goal of the series is to have an eclectic experience of art. Art in its purest form. My expression of inner emotions - nothing more, nothing less. No story here; just unabashed, raw feelings filling in the spaces.
Until next time,
The Happy Painter,
Jill
Friday, November 25, 2016
The Painting Spectrum - Let's "Process" Art
It was a disappointing week for me. First off, I wasn't able to paint. For those of you who read my post from last week, may remember that I mentioned this future prediction; I mentioned Thanksgiving week was going to be a stretch to get any painting done. So, if I realized this fact almost a week ago, why am I still disappointed? I'm disappointed because I didn't paint - even though I realized in advanced there was a strong possibility of it not happening. Thus, is the cycle of the artist mindset.
My second disappointment was the fact that my two pumpkin pies I baked for Thanksgiving dinner turned out to be disasters. It turned out I didn't follow the baking directions properly and I was missing one or two ingredients. Why? I thought it wouldn't matter in the end. What does this have to do with art? Read on.
A good friend of mine reminded me that like art, many things have a certain process that needs to be followed, or the finished work will not be our best. Time tested procedures and directions must be followed. Shortcuts cannot be taken. If we do that, the finished work may even look somewhat decent, but under closer scrutiny, will show a great deal of flaws. My good friend also got together with me to help bake additional pies. We followed the process to the letter and all of them came out (and tasted) flawless.
After our pie-making excursion, I invited her to my studio to view my latest paintings. She is not fellow artist, nor an avid art lover. However, I was still surprised at what she had to say about my latest abstract paintings. At one point, she twisted her head sideways to get another view of them.
"This painting looks like a large bird," she pointed out to me. Then I held up the painting with one of the new frames my husband and I purchased recently. "Wow - it looks great in a frame. The colors really stand out." I put the frame and canvas down. She walked over to the painting and continued critiquing in her own way; "It looks like energy is coming in from outer space - and in this sky looking area - it looks like the energy is flowing to the ground."
This is one of the beautiful aspects about art. We don't always have to try and figure what the painting is about. We don't have to know what each line and/or object is. My friend looked at a painting and identified what she liked about it and what drew her to the painting. That equals why she can enjoy it. Consider it the process of viewing art. Just like there is a creative process to actually paint the painting, the same could be said for viewing it. Ditto for making great pies!
When I paint, I don't think in the logical sense. As crazy as that sounds, it works. I dance with my paint across the surface of the canvas. It's what I do naturally. This is part of my creative process and it comes to me easily.
We all have gifts and talents. This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for my husband, family, friends, and the talents we all have. By the way - here's a picture of my "perfect" pie. And it tasted just as good as it looks. Amazing what happens when you follow a process that works...
Until next time,
The Thankful Painter,
Jill
Sunday, November 20, 2016
The Painting Spectrum - Painting And Protests
I honestly thought I would not be using this phrase yet; "The Holiday Season". But we can't blink the fact that it's now right around the corner starting, in my book, on November 25th. With this fact on the table and space already being at a premium in my studio, I knew these past seven days would be a key week to paint daily as much as possible. I almost hit my mark - I was able to paint Monday through Thursday to just that goal. Those of you who follow my blog, know I rarely paint on weekends, so 4 outta 5 ain't bad. Each day, I painted for however long it took me to complete a painting. There were some evenings my arms and shoulders were more sore than others. However, the colors flowed onto the canvas easily and intuitively.
My emotions have been running high over the past 10 days or so; everything from the political scene, to the Super-moon last Monday, to a friend being on the receiving end of a racial incident. Another example of mans inhumanity to man. As corny as it may sound in these modern times, I keep hoping and praying there will be harmony and peace on this planet.
There are still blessings to be found in everyday life, regardless of how chaotic. For example, my husband and I had a chance to spend some time with our oldest grandkids this weekend, while our oldest daughter attended a peaceful protest march in her hometown. The sign she held during the march stated "Tolerance is Humanity". That slogan was good food for thought - what if, in the art world, we did not tolerate works that were "different than ours" or "that we don't understand", or works "we don't agree with". Zero tolerance for new art make a very dull world.
When my daughter came to pick up her kids, she found our first round of frames that had been delivered to our door for both mine and my husbands art shows that will be taking place next summer and autumn. We were pleased with the quality and how the frames looked. I also liked how the black frame looked against the bright colors of some of my latest oil-spill inspired abstract paintings. The works looked very dramatic, or as my husband and daughter mentioned, "it was so... me". I can't wait for the gallery to display these works. It also made me thankful that this gallery decided to display mine and my husbands works. They are very different than what's being displayed now. I'm glad they took a chance. While others may "protest" in some small way because the works being displayed are not a floral, or landscapes, or still life's (in which there is nothing wrong with these genres), the gallery wanted a change; to shake things up. For this, we're all for it.
Until next time,
The Protesting Painter,
Jill
My emotions have been running high over the past 10 days or so; everything from the political scene, to the Super-moon last Monday, to a friend being on the receiving end of a racial incident. Another example of mans inhumanity to man. As corny as it may sound in these modern times, I keep hoping and praying there will be harmony and peace on this planet.
There are still blessings to be found in everyday life, regardless of how chaotic. For example, my husband and I had a chance to spend some time with our oldest grandkids this weekend, while our oldest daughter attended a peaceful protest march in her hometown. The sign she held during the march stated "Tolerance is Humanity". That slogan was good food for thought - what if, in the art world, we did not tolerate works that were "different than ours" or "that we don't understand", or works "we don't agree with". Zero tolerance for new art make a very dull world.
When my daughter came to pick up her kids, she found our first round of frames that had been delivered to our door for both mine and my husbands art shows that will be taking place next summer and autumn. We were pleased with the quality and how the frames looked. I also liked how the black frame looked against the bright colors of some of my latest oil-spill inspired abstract paintings. The works looked very dramatic, or as my husband and daughter mentioned, "it was so... me". I can't wait for the gallery to display these works. It also made me thankful that this gallery decided to display mine and my husbands works. They are very different than what's being displayed now. I'm glad they took a chance. While others may "protest" in some small way because the works being displayed are not a floral, or landscapes, or still life's (in which there is nothing wrong with these genres), the gallery wanted a change; to shake things up. For this, we're all for it.
Until next time,
The Protesting Painter,
Jill
Sunday, November 13, 2016
The Painting Spectrum - Clean Slate, Clean Palette
It was another whirlwind week filled with voting (and that whole tense situation), making a trip to see my dentist, and a road trip to Massachusetts for a Veterans Day ceremony - and somewhere in all that I managed to finish another oil spill inspired painting. Part of my painting process is to maintain, to the best of my ability, an even emotional keel. My mantra is a desire to paint beauty. Beauty comes in many shapes, forms, and colors. My palette is a rainbow - one mindset I embrace is, if I can begin with happiness, I shall end with happiness.
This is one reason why for this campaign season (marathon?), I shut off the television and blocked all political posts from my Facebook feed. I stayed informed enough for my comfort level, but that was my personal boundary. This past week however, a heaviness still weighed the atmosphere. By Wednesday morning, it seemed almost all of America had a massive political hangover. I had to strictly regiment my time this past week to avoid negativity at all costs. This meant no media at all; radio, newspaper, TV, and the Internet. My husband burned a massive stack of new CD's, so that is what played almost all week. This is part of my creative process. I need a "clean slate and clean palette" emotionally and mentally in order to paint or I won't be able to focus on my work.
By midweek, I made my dentist appointment for a routine cleaning. In the hygienist's office, there was a cute stuffed purple dragon in the corner. He had green horns, a purple body, and big red dots on his face. He also had a set of false teeth and was holding an oversized toothbrush.
"The kids call him Fuzzy," Alice told me as she scraped my teeth. I felt great after I left the dentist and went home to paint.
One of the first order of operations was to remove the old palette sheet as the last remaining oil paint had dried up and replace it with a new one. On went the rainbow of new color - yellow, orange, red, green, blue and purple. Beginning with yellow, I laid in the design of the oil drip / spill I was going to paint. The other colors followed and their placement was wherever they felt "right" to me. After a few hours, I was satisfied with the finished work and called it done. I set it aside to let the paint start its drying process. As I stepped back, I could have sworn I saw Fuzzy, that happy purple dragon, in my painting... minus the false teeth and toothbrush of course.
Friday morning came early, but I was blessed with a beautiful sunrise. A short while later, my husband and I embarked on the 3 1/2 hour trek to central Massachusetts. One positive aspect about our trip through Maine and New Hampshire, were no school buses and the road construction workers had the day off. Not so in Massachusetts - we were held up twice by construction (read: huge traffic jams) and arrived with only a 20 minute window to spare before the ceremony started. We were greeted by other family members and made decisions on who was doing what and where we were all sitting. As humans, I guess we all need some sort of "process" regardless of the situation.
The ceremony was solemn but beautiful. There were the presentations of colors, veterans marching in, speeches (very short ones, thank God) made by local, state, and national (senate) officials. Afterward, there was the presentation of medals, certificates of appreciation, and a commemoration letter written by the President of the United States to over 120 Vietnam veterans. My brother and I accepted the honors in behalf of my deceased father. The ceremony closed with the singing of a few military favorites, the presentation of wreaths, and the playing of taps for all deceased soldiers.
Even with the massive crowd of almost 1,000 people, we manged to snap some family photos and were interviewed by two local newspaper reporters. One of the questions asked of my mother was how her late husband handled his return home. She told them he didn't talk about it much. The Vietnam war was filled with controversy. There were years of protests and many veterans did not receive a warm welcome home nor the recognition they deserved. My father and my family just did the best they could. It's possible that my father didn't talk about the conflict that much because he wanted to start over with a "clean slate and clean palette" with his young family. It's a shame that it's taken this country 50 years to honor these veterans in some formal way. However, even though it took a half a century, I'm grateful.
Most of my extended family joined us for a late lunch after the ceremony commenced. While waiting for our table at the restaurant we went to, there was another veteran who struck up a conversation with us. He thanked my father for his service. He didn't know me, my mother, or anyone else. However, there is a common thread of being human. We can all get along despite our opinions and differences. Because of this conversation with this stranger, I came away with a sense of pride, hope, and faith... in all of us. Maybe this is another example of a "clean slate" we all need to move forward in our lives.
Until next time,
The Happy Painter,
Jill
This is one reason why for this campaign season (marathon?), I shut off the television and blocked all political posts from my Facebook feed. I stayed informed enough for my comfort level, but that was my personal boundary. This past week however, a heaviness still weighed the atmosphere. By Wednesday morning, it seemed almost all of America had a massive political hangover. I had to strictly regiment my time this past week to avoid negativity at all costs. This meant no media at all; radio, newspaper, TV, and the Internet. My husband burned a massive stack of new CD's, so that is what played almost all week. This is part of my creative process. I need a "clean slate and clean palette" emotionally and mentally in order to paint or I won't be able to focus on my work.
By midweek, I made my dentist appointment for a routine cleaning. In the hygienist's office, there was a cute stuffed purple dragon in the corner. He had green horns, a purple body, and big red dots on his face. He also had a set of false teeth and was holding an oversized toothbrush.
"The kids call him Fuzzy," Alice told me as she scraped my teeth. I felt great after I left the dentist and went home to paint.
One of the first order of operations was to remove the old palette sheet as the last remaining oil paint had dried up and replace it with a new one. On went the rainbow of new color - yellow, orange, red, green, blue and purple. Beginning with yellow, I laid in the design of the oil drip / spill I was going to paint. The other colors followed and their placement was wherever they felt "right" to me. After a few hours, I was satisfied with the finished work and called it done. I set it aside to let the paint start its drying process. As I stepped back, I could have sworn I saw Fuzzy, that happy purple dragon, in my painting... minus the false teeth and toothbrush of course.Friday morning came early, but I was blessed with a beautiful sunrise. A short while later, my husband and I embarked on the 3 1/2 hour trek to central Massachusetts. One positive aspect about our trip through Maine and New Hampshire, were no school buses and the road construction workers had the day off. Not so in Massachusetts - we were held up twice by construction (read: huge traffic jams) and arrived with only a 20 minute window to spare before the ceremony started. We were greeted by other family members and made decisions on who was doing what and where we were all sitting. As humans, I guess we all need some sort of "process" regardless of the situation.
The ceremony was solemn but beautiful. There were the presentations of colors, veterans marching in, speeches (very short ones, thank God) made by local, state, and national (senate) officials. Afterward, there was the presentation of medals, certificates of appreciation, and a commemoration letter written by the President of the United States to over 120 Vietnam veterans. My brother and I accepted the honors in behalf of my deceased father. The ceremony closed with the singing of a few military favorites, the presentation of wreaths, and the playing of taps for all deceased soldiers.
Even with the massive crowd of almost 1,000 people, we manged to snap some family photos and were interviewed by two local newspaper reporters. One of the questions asked of my mother was how her late husband handled his return home. She told them he didn't talk about it much. The Vietnam war was filled with controversy. There were years of protests and many veterans did not receive a warm welcome home nor the recognition they deserved. My father and my family just did the best they could. It's possible that my father didn't talk about the conflict that much because he wanted to start over with a "clean slate and clean palette" with his young family. It's a shame that it's taken this country 50 years to honor these veterans in some formal way. However, even though it took a half a century, I'm grateful.
Most of my extended family joined us for a late lunch after the ceremony commenced. While waiting for our table at the restaurant we went to, there was another veteran who struck up a conversation with us. He thanked my father for his service. He didn't know me, my mother, or anyone else. However, there is a common thread of being human. We can all get along despite our opinions and differences. Because of this conversation with this stranger, I came away with a sense of pride, hope, and faith... in all of us. Maybe this is another example of a "clean slate" we all need to move forward in our lives.
Until next time,
The Happy Painter,
Jill
Sunday, November 6, 2016
The Painting Spectrum - Flights Of Fancy
This past week have been seven days of "priming the pump". This historical term came from a time when people used to have manual wells where they would have to pour a certain amount of water into the well first before it would operate properly. Once water was poured into the system, the well would pump more out to be gotten.
My "priming the pump" task was when I put the gesso to six canvases this week. The entire process took just over an hour and then drying time used up a few more. Ironically, this process used to fill me with fear. The thought of "...what do I paint?" used to encompass my mind. The process of letting that fear go was even easier this time as I know it will be another form of oil spill inspired abstract. I do still wonder, however, where my process will take me though...
I'll use the following as an example; I saw a young boy who was approximately 2-3 years old with his mother out at our local boardwalk one afternoon. As I walked, prior to meeting them, I noticed milkweed pods opened and seeds were everywhere. There was also a gentle breeze. As I came around the corner, I saw the boy stomping around, doing an odd dance - then stopping, smiling, and laughing - and then began doing the same ritual all over again. When I got closer, I saw other milkweed pods that had been opened and little seeds floating near him. He was totally enthralled in their flight. I smiled. It was good.
There's so much that I've come to "know" as an adult. But how often do I just stop and wonder about life? Or about the simple things like floating milkweed seeds? I'm currently reading a spiritual book entitled, "One Day My Soul Just Opened Up". There is one essay on creativity that blew my mind. It stated that a power greater than ourselves (whom I choose to call God), "... infuses us with the power to conceive, express, and enjoy our creative power. We create through thought, word, and deed."
Our expectations are self-fulfilling. Start each day by seeing it the way you would want it to be. See yourself moving through the day with a smile on your face and joy in your heart. I can do the same with my painting and creative process. I start this self-fulfillment with "priming my pump". I have to continue this process, via painting, as I want to see my finished work. Usually, I have just a concept, not an exact detailed vision, so my painting can go with the flow. I can paint without fear.
Another example came from my husband. He shared a story with me of a couple in their 90's who are regular customers at the auto repair shop where he works. They got back about a week or two ago from a 2400 mile round trip to Nova Scotia. They were good health (as far as 90+ year old's go) and have zero fear of traveling. I can take this same creativity process beyond my painting and into my everyday life. I can imagine a larger studio to solve my current space problem. I can imagine more gallery or even museum exhibits and my works selling for more money. And why not?
My goal is this, and while it does include being an artist, it goes beyond that. That all my fears of people, places, and things would dissolve as I courageously move through life conquering one fear after another. Life (and painting) is meant to be lived and enjoyed! May I be like that couple in their 90's and still filled with the wonder of a 2-3 year old.
Until next time,
The creative painter,
Jill
My "priming the pump" task was when I put the gesso to six canvases this week. The entire process took just over an hour and then drying time used up a few more. Ironically, this process used to fill me with fear. The thought of "...what do I paint?" used to encompass my mind. The process of letting that fear go was even easier this time as I know it will be another form of oil spill inspired abstract. I do still wonder, however, where my process will take me though...
I'll use the following as an example; I saw a young boy who was approximately 2-3 years old with his mother out at our local boardwalk one afternoon. As I walked, prior to meeting them, I noticed milkweed pods opened and seeds were everywhere. There was also a gentle breeze. As I came around the corner, I saw the boy stomping around, doing an odd dance - then stopping, smiling, and laughing - and then began doing the same ritual all over again. When I got closer, I saw other milkweed pods that had been opened and little seeds floating near him. He was totally enthralled in their flight. I smiled. It was good.
There's so much that I've come to "know" as an adult. But how often do I just stop and wonder about life? Or about the simple things like floating milkweed seeds? I'm currently reading a spiritual book entitled, "One Day My Soul Just Opened Up". There is one essay on creativity that blew my mind. It stated that a power greater than ourselves (whom I choose to call God), "... infuses us with the power to conceive, express, and enjoy our creative power. We create through thought, word, and deed."
Our expectations are self-fulfilling. Start each day by seeing it the way you would want it to be. See yourself moving through the day with a smile on your face and joy in your heart. I can do the same with my painting and creative process. I start this self-fulfillment with "priming my pump". I have to continue this process, via painting, as I want to see my finished work. Usually, I have just a concept, not an exact detailed vision, so my painting can go with the flow. I can paint without fear.
Another example came from my husband. He shared a story with me of a couple in their 90's who are regular customers at the auto repair shop where he works. They got back about a week or two ago from a 2400 mile round trip to Nova Scotia. They were good health (as far as 90+ year old's go) and have zero fear of traveling. I can take this same creativity process beyond my painting and into my everyday life. I can imagine a larger studio to solve my current space problem. I can imagine more gallery or even museum exhibits and my works selling for more money. And why not?
My goal is this, and while it does include being an artist, it goes beyond that. That all my fears of people, places, and things would dissolve as I courageously move through life conquering one fear after another. Life (and painting) is meant to be lived and enjoyed! May I be like that couple in their 90's and still filled with the wonder of a 2-3 year old.
Until next time,
The creative painter,
Jill
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Halloween Art... Or Sticking With What You Know
Part of any creative process is searching for ideas. In my experience, it doesn't matter if that idea comes from Mother Nature and the great outdoors, or a picture I see in a magazine or on someone's wall in their home, or on my computer. Since it was Halloween weekend, I took a break from painting to participate in some "spooky" events our friends had planned. This past Friday evening, my husband Dave and I were searching computer images for pumpkin carving ideas and stencils / templates. We found the number of categories to be almost overwhelming. Disney, scary, whimsical, x-rated, and highly unusual were just to name a few.
Since my husband is a car buff, his first choice was a classic VW bus, but unfortunately he wouldn't have enough time to fully finish the carving given the time frame we had this past Saturday afternoon. He settled on the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland. This was a good second choice since the pumpkin he was carving came from our youngest daughter who just happens to love cats and VW buses.
I scrolled on and on through well over 500 images of ghosts, cats, skulls, and who knows what else. I finally spotted one I really liked - a Tigger face. I had a small pumpkin to work with, so I needed a simple design. Dave printed out our templates and I traced the shapes onto our pumpkins with a Sharpie. We stopped at a local big-box store and purchased a pumpkin carving kit while on the way to a good friends house for her annual pumpkin carving party.
We were one of the first guests to arrive, chose our seating, and were given two large bowls; one for the seeds and one for the guts. Our hostess told us to help ourselves to some of the festive goodies she had put out. Dave and I also grabbed cups of coffee, sat down, and began carving in earnest.
Following some type of pumpkin carving protocol, I began at the top of the pumpkin with a large knife to cut the customary hole where the stem was. I began scooping out the seeds and guts with a large tablespoon as the hole was quite small. The regular scraper would not fit and neither would my hand. While scooping to the best of my ability, I noticed a growth (probably where a stem would have been), in the center of my pumpkin. I just kept working around it, because to me, it was no big deal.
Over the next 90 minutes, I used various carving tools making my design. During this time, at least a dozen other guests arrived and filled the other tables in the large living room. Despite everyone's best efforts, seeds and guts ended up in other places besides the bowls. But hey, I figured, this is another art form taking place. Sometimes art is messy.
Comments galore could be heard; everything from "Gooey", to "Yuck... slimy", to "This is so gross." In the end, I had a good facsimile of Tigger. Everyone guessed at what the design was, and they arrived at the correct answer on their first try. I was pleased. Others, including my husband, installed a candle in their creation and pictures were taken. It was at this juncture where events took a turn for the weird.
"Aren't you going to put a candle in your pumpkin?" the hostess asked me.
"I can't. There's a growth in the center of my pumpkin." I replied sheepishly.
"Let me see." She looked and was stunned. "Oh my God, it's got a pumpkin penis."
Everyone at the party put all carving on hold and came over to gaze at my unusual freak of Nature. One lady suggested I should take a knife and just cut it off. Of course, I couldn't - the center hole was too small. Another gentleman quipped that my pumpkin was "one happy Tigger."
What started as a family event turned into a PG-13 carving party with lots more male anatomy jokes and humor. For a brief moment I was a little embarrassed, but it was what it was - a go with the flow moment in the journey of life.
From now on, however, I'm leaving sculpting alone and sticking with my oil painting!
Until next time,
The CONFIRMED Painter,
Jill
Saturday, October 22, 2016
The Painting Spectrum - Art For Art's Sake
There is a great deal going on in the world today - I know I don't need to tell you that. We'll probably agree that people are preoccupied with making a living - or better yet - a survival. We feel we have little or no time available to just live, be, or explore. We sometimes believe that if we don't work 50-70 hours per week, we will go hungry, be poor, and homeless.
Whether you believe in this concept or not, that trusting the Divine to provide for all of our needs, seems to go untested. If I truly believed in the Divine's love for me, I would have no problem of putting this principle into practice.
For a number of years, I had a full time job while trying to "work" or "jump-start" my art. I almost went insane on the treadmill of my "regular" career. I ended up pushing and hurting myself physically and mentally to do all that was expected of me, which was an invisible bar I could never reach. In the end, I realized that no matter how hard or much I worked, it was never enough. The sad part was, I put so much effort into a job I was never made to do.
Up until approximately seven years ago, I never had the time to devote to what I should be doing in regards to my art, or even attempting to take it seriously. No matter how much I planned, wished, or otherwise, something else from my previous career always popped up. Now, since I'm pursuing my art full time, it seems the Divine has opened the doors - other artists are being put into my path, opportunities are presenting themselves, and things seem to be moving forward.
For example, I met a fellow artist named Dan last week, who was out painting on our town's Main Street. It was a beautiful sunny day, but also breezy, as he had his tripod weighed down with a rather large backpack full of extra supplies. We chatted - well okay - I did most of the talking. I was a little excited to see another one of our "tribe". I shared on my experience of outdoor painting - how the sea breeze came along and I got wet canvases blown onto me or onto the grass.
"That's why mine is weighted down," he interjected.
"I don't paint outdoors anymore - I've gone totally abstract," I continued.
"Well, there are abstract shapes in reality," he protested slightly as he added a lime green rectangle to a doorpost.
"Do you show anywhere?" I asked.
"Up and down the coast at foundations. They have juried shows. The foundation shows don't require so many pieces of your work, like galleries. You only need one piece and it gets a good deal of foot traffic," he added.
"I didn't know that - thanks. My husband and I are showing in two galleries next summer and we have a great deal of work to do. Lots of framing. They require about 25-30 pieces. I look into it. Thanks again," I said as I turned and left him to concentrate on his work.
The second artist, Jessie, I ran into that same evening. She is a new friend I met at church. She was ecstatic as she mentioned that she sold five paintings over the past two weeks. She is currently in a gallery further south down the coast in Damariscotta, and she has her own studio as well. We started discussing various topics of what we paint, sales, marketing, and more.
This week has had some down time from painting as I was waiting for more Gesso to arrive that I ordered on-line. The local art shops only seem to carry pints or quarts and they are always out of stock. I thought about cracking open the gallon bucket I received, but then realized I had to move some of my paintings that were drying in our main hallway (the joys of painting on large canvases in a small studio - sometimes I just run out of space). We have new appliances arriving on Monday and EVERYTHING needs to be out of this hallway in order to get to the kitchen. So, no - I'm not going to make more work for myself.
What I am doing is writing more and reading about spirituality. I must admit, I am grateful for the camaraderie of other artists in my life.
Until next time,
The Happy Abstract Painter,
Jill
Whether you believe in this concept or not, that trusting the Divine to provide for all of our needs, seems to go untested. If I truly believed in the Divine's love for me, I would have no problem of putting this principle into practice.
For a number of years, I had a full time job while trying to "work" or "jump-start" my art. I almost went insane on the treadmill of my "regular" career. I ended up pushing and hurting myself physically and mentally to do all that was expected of me, which was an invisible bar I could never reach. In the end, I realized that no matter how hard or much I worked, it was never enough. The sad part was, I put so much effort into a job I was never made to do.
Up until approximately seven years ago, I never had the time to devote to what I should be doing in regards to my art, or even attempting to take it seriously. No matter how much I planned, wished, or otherwise, something else from my previous career always popped up. Now, since I'm pursuing my art full time, it seems the Divine has opened the doors - other artists are being put into my path, opportunities are presenting themselves, and things seem to be moving forward.
For example, I met a fellow artist named Dan last week, who was out painting on our town's Main Street. It was a beautiful sunny day, but also breezy, as he had his tripod weighed down with a rather large backpack full of extra supplies. We chatted - well okay - I did most of the talking. I was a little excited to see another one of our "tribe". I shared on my experience of outdoor painting - how the sea breeze came along and I got wet canvases blown onto me or onto the grass.
"That's why mine is weighted down," he interjected.
"I don't paint outdoors anymore - I've gone totally abstract," I continued.
"Well, there are abstract shapes in reality," he protested slightly as he added a lime green rectangle to a doorpost.
"Do you show anywhere?" I asked.
"Up and down the coast at foundations. They have juried shows. The foundation shows don't require so many pieces of your work, like galleries. You only need one piece and it gets a good deal of foot traffic," he added.
"I didn't know that - thanks. My husband and I are showing in two galleries next summer and we have a great deal of work to do. Lots of framing. They require about 25-30 pieces. I look into it. Thanks again," I said as I turned and left him to concentrate on his work.
The second artist, Jessie, I ran into that same evening. She is a new friend I met at church. She was ecstatic as she mentioned that she sold five paintings over the past two weeks. She is currently in a gallery further south down the coast in Damariscotta, and she has her own studio as well. We started discussing various topics of what we paint, sales, marketing, and more.
This week has had some down time from painting as I was waiting for more Gesso to arrive that I ordered on-line. The local art shops only seem to carry pints or quarts and they are always out of stock. I thought about cracking open the gallon bucket I received, but then realized I had to move some of my paintings that were drying in our main hallway (the joys of painting on large canvases in a small studio - sometimes I just run out of space). We have new appliances arriving on Monday and EVERYTHING needs to be out of this hallway in order to get to the kitchen. So, no - I'm not going to make more work for myself.
What I am doing is writing more and reading about spirituality. I must admit, I am grateful for the camaraderie of other artists in my life.
Until next time,
The Happy Abstract Painter,
Jill
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