Can it be a self-portrait if it doesn't look like me?

The answer is "YES" because when you're the artist, you can do whatever you want! Artistic liberty is a fantastic thing--something that, as I'm experimenting with different mediums and styles, all while trying to drop perfectionistic tendencies or expectations of greatness for myself, I'm finding freedom like I didn't know existed.
This image came to me as I was playing around with collage. Slowly, in my mind I began to see a person, then I created the leaves by painting around the papers glued underneath. The face was such a joy to paint, even though I had no idea what I was doing! I just knew I wanted her to have the feel of this drawing of a woman by Leonardo Da Vinci but with a modern look.  Mixing the colors to create flesh tones and highlights and shading was such a fun experiment! She doesn't look this jaundiced in person, thankfully. I enjoyed flowing with ideas as they came. I also liked that it turned out looking folk-artsy.
The idea of painting a crow came from being inspired by Edgar Allan Poe and the imagery of his taunting, visiting blackbird on his mantle, crying out, "nevermore", to the distress of the character in his story. Often, I feel like this character, trying to block out the taunting negative messages in our world--i.e.--The CROW. Only when I can learn to ignore the crow's voice, can I be free to live fully alive. 

The song that inspired this painting--while it was in formation:
Blackbird, by the Beatles (sung by Sarah McLaughlin):
Blackbird singing in the dead of nightTake these broken wings and learn to flyAll your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to arise
Blackbird singing in the dead of nightTake these sunken eyes and learn to seeAll your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, blackbird flyInto the light of the dark black night
Blackbird fly, blackbird flyInto the light of the dark black night
Blackbird singing in the dead of nightTake these broken wings and learn to flyAll your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to ariseYou were only waiting for this moment to ariseYou were only waiting for this moment to arise

Beginning My Art Collection

I just bought my first original painting by an artist, Michele Maule, who I've admired on etsy for a couple years! She does a lot of collage and oil painting, but I felt this watercolor was made for me. I have a fascination with flocks of geese. When they fly overhead I feel like I've been graced by something magical. As an animal, a goose is feisty and I'm a little afraid of them, but in flight they're ethereal.

I love the pen detail in this piece and the way the clouds are blotchy and stylized. Clouds make me happy too, and we've got this blue-gray-white scheme in our house, so really, I couldn't have made a better choice with this one to start my art collection!

Check out Michele's other works here! http://www.etsy.com/shop/michelemaule

Painting. A Year Late

This week I took a painting class with Wendy Brightbill, a local mixed-media artist, and had so much fun! This was a goal from 2011, and even though accomplished late, it's directed me unexpectedly in my goal setting for this year. Okay, "a bit", is understating it--novel work is pushed aside (for now) and I'm ready to PAINT!! Though writing brings me serious happiness on an ontological level, visual art does the same, yet it feels more do-able on a daily basis at this stage in life. Also, I'm loving that I can invite my kids to join in the mess with me!

First up--I'm doing an art journal! This idea has been around for a while, but I'm just now learning about it and it seems perfect for learning and growing as an artist.

I'm doing the journal in the form of an "altered book"--a recycled, hardcover children's book transformed into my own original work. Each page or spread will be a practice in a different mixed-media technique, but really personal to whatever is on my heart and mind that day or season. I looked through several of Wendy's books at the class, and I was moved by them in such a way, all I could say was,

"Wow--these are like, an experience!!"

 Art. Journal.

Perfect for someone who likes words and color at the same time--me! Happiness. Ontologically. :)

Hopefully the Last Post About Packing, Ever

I am DOG tired. Dog tired as in--I want to lay on my kitchen floor with my legs curled under me and my head on the floor and fall asleep in the sunshine.

This move has been wrecking me. In the past, Jon and I get all macho-tough-guy about moving and we're like, "We're going to ROCK this packing!" We get prideful, like packing snobs, because we think we are so good at packing. We have phases, systems, detailed labeling of boxes. And we're fast. We make the boxes our biatch, yo.

Not this time. This time I'm a sniveling little baby, who half the time is living in denial that packing is even an activity to do, and the other half I'm blatantly procrastinating by checking facebook 100 times a day and overdosing on TV in the evenings. I've been in some existential crisis over this moment in our lives. I won't go into it all, because I'd rather be laying on the floor, but for a while I was stumped about why I felt so crazy about this move. Stumped because we have really wanted this move to happen. Selling our house is good for so many reasons. Yes, packing and moving stinks for anyone, but still, why the existential crazy-crisis? I think I've figured it out.

I had been working so hard to order my life to make room for art and writing, yet still play with my family and friends, all while having a clean house. I was fighting for it, and succeeding sometimes. To me, it was all about order, and packing up a house to move to a yet-to-be-discovered location, screamed loudly in my ears, disorder. I'm afraid our fuzzy future and chaos is going to steal my creativity and my time to invest into that part of myself.

Somehow, just by recognizing this fear, I've been able to release it a bit. I have to stop being so dependent on order and comfort and predictability. I guess I thought I had a handle on that because of the nature of Jon's work, but apparently I'm not at the master level of openness yet. My friend Michele reminded me of Ann Voskamp's physical motion that helps in the act of letting go. Clenched fist, opening and releasing that which we hold tightly. I may or may not have paced around my house doing this over and over. Okay, yes I did. While deep-breathing like a bulldog. :)

Now I'm going back downstairs to finish packing the kitchen. I'm still going to keep my labeling system:

All-caps in the upper left hand corner of the box. KITCHEN.
Listed below it in small-caps, all the contents in the box.

Don't make me let go of that!


***Bulldog Illustration

Freedom of Routine

You know how we all tend to cling to a false-belief or beliefs that can spread into our way of living and behaving? We carry on without even noticing and our lives are shaped by the belief. Big or small, they have power to create patterns in our lives. A big one I've been working through lately is:

"Routine will suck the life out of my creativity and be a vicious death of any potential spontaneity and fun in our schedule." Dramatic, I know, but that's really how I feel/felt about "routine". 

Since I've recognized this as a false belief, my new theory is this: 

If I can create effective routine to accomplish the mundane (the stuff I'd rather be in denial of its existence--like bathroom cleaning) my time for creativity and spontaneity will actually be more free.

I've been wanting to write about this for a while but each time I start, I have visions of the post plummeting quickly into dark depths of boredom on levels never before seen. But this is pretty huge in my life right now, so I'm going to take the risk and write about it anyway.

I've been testing my theory, these past couple weeks, through what I've named a "Housewifery Bootcamp". You have to pronounce "housewifery" like this {house-wiff-ery} in order for it to be effective.

I have a schedule of housecleaning jobs and I've stuck to them (mostly) and it's been amazing. I won't go into the details for fear of boring myself to sleep on the keyboard, but I'm now a believer in the benefit of a healthy routine, even though it's still majorly a work in process.

This week I'm testing out part two of my theory--the creative part. The idea that my head will be clear enough of the necessary mundane that I can write and paint without feeling like I'm neglecting my home or my family. I've designated this week as "make progress on my creative projects week". Okay, so I don't have a creative title for the week, but that's the idea. I want to work on my novel and finish an art project.

Since it sounds like my little one is actually going to nap, and my coffee is done brewing, I'm going to stop writing ABOUT it, and actually DO it. Off to be creative...

Next up in my false-belief bashing process: "I have to have a gym membership to work out". 

One false belief I will not give up: "Each time I kiss my kids' foreheads and stroke their hair, it slows time a little bit."

*****************

Mental Grooves

This morning I was bouncing around everywhere but in the groove. My mental wheels were about to pop off from all the jumbling and jiggling. And I was not doing aerobics; I was just trying to get us ready for the day.

I learned from one of Jack's books on trains that the inspiration for train rails came from observing how a cart could travel easily through grooves worn into the road from carts who went before it. If it came out of the grooves, the trip would take longer and the cart would be more prone to damage from the rougher ride.

My rough ride today is due in part to the paradox of need. I've been thinking about paradoxes lately--I'm always so intrigued by them. In my motherly opinion, "NEED" is one of them--how amazing it feels to be needed, and how suffocating it can be sometimes.

Today my kids have been "needing" something at every turn--way more than usual. (Is it a full moon?) Sometimes I embrace the reality and love it--hello--I am their mommy. Other times, like today, I  feel unceasingly interrupted and it throws me from my happy groove of how I want to move through life.

My nice spiral of thought, purpose and plans are all jumbled and broken. I can't THINK. I want to have a complete thought, but instead I fill another sippy cup, or answer another a question, or help someone pee.

This afternoon God helped my mental wheels get back into the smooth path. After school drop off, Nora and I went to the World Prayer Center to walk around. We've never done this together before, but today it suddenly occurred to me how lovely that would be to do with Nora. The sidewalk around the building is surrounded both by stunning front-range views and nice little places to sit and BE. We slowly walked, chatted, enjoyed the sunshine, and prayed. I prayed for our state, our country, the people suffering in Somalia. We went inside and read beautifully displayed scripture on prayer, listened to a guy playing piano, looked at flags from around the world and prayed for several countries.

This is my groove. Remembering to pray and worship, slow down and BE.

As I'm finishing writing this my kids are happily playing with each other and not needing anything from me. I think when they ask me for something in a few minutes, my peaceful, in-the-groove self will jump at the opportunity to be needed.

Psalm 23:3--He refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for His name's sake. 

**********************************