Wrapping Up

Soaking up stillness as 2018 wraps up and ties a bow around itself.

5 x 7" work in progress

A Certain Quietness of Mind
9 x 11.5"; acrylic, latex, and collage
abstract
2018

A Certain Quietness of Mind
matted and framed, 12 x 16"

Sleep Cycles

You know how you go through sleep cycles at night, moving from light to deep sleep and back again several times? Seems that I am going through similar sleep cycles in my hibernation.

A few days ago I rose up from deep sleep to light and came fully awake briefly. Just had to paint bookmarks for Caroline and Emmy to accompany the books that are gifts for Christmas. As ever, SOOO satisfying.

Then … zzzzzzz.

       An illuminated novel by Dana Kumerow with 
        illustrations by Brittany Tate and Jen Walls 

                                     House of Dreams: The Life of L. M. Montgomery
                                   by Liz Rosenberg, illustrated by Julie Morstad

Sure Enough

A poem from Ted Kooser's collection, Winter Morning Walks—

December 17

Clear and twenty-four at sunrise.

A cold wind out of the west all night.
Where our row of Norwegian pines
lines the road, there were lots of joined pairs
of needles this morning, blown over the grass
and onto the shoulder, every pair
an elongated V, coated with frost,
and each pointing east-southeast,
where, sure enough, the sun was waiting.

I wish to be still enough to notice joined pairs of Norwegian pine needles blown over grass, present enough to notice that each pair points to where the sun is waiting.

And so I am setting an intention to slow way down. My unfinished paintings and I plan to hibernate for a bit, to step back and see what unfolds.

Then, in the new year, sure enough, we'll stretch our limbs, shake our sleepy heads, and take stock.

naptime

Jumble

Jumble bells, jumble bells, jumble all the way.

Or something like that.

So much calling out for my attention, daylight hours diminishing by the day, tasks started but not completed, plans leapfrogging other plans, studio time disjointed—jumble all the way, I tell ya!

Apropos of nothing, and with unfinished paintings to the left of me, unfinished paintings to the right of me, here's what I started painting today, letting my inner jumble out onto a large sheet of paper.

marks, scribbles

leftover paint from previous projects

work in progress

Spinning a Yarn

I am fascinated recently by the stories we tell ourselves, the yarns we spin.

Today I literally told my paint story with yarn. Wanting a 'paintbrush' that would be loose, floppy, and unpredictable, I raided a basket of yarn, cut some short lengths, and taped them to the handle end of a paintbrush. Perfect.

paint knife, fan brush, homemade yarn brush

Continued playing with yesterday's WIP.

detail, work in progress

Speaking of yesterday, and speaking of stories, allow me to finish spinning my yarn about the online order gone wrong. Having belly-laughed at a proposed 209-minute wait to speak with a customer service representative, I hung up and got on with things. Good decision. Later in the day, customer service actually responded to the email I'd sent four days earlier; the company offered to print up my order and ship it to multiple addresses (for the third time!) for free (for the second time!), and provided me follow-these-easy-steps directions.

Directions were, of course, not so easy. But I prevailed!

Only thing left is for the order to be printed correctly and mailed. Fingers crossed!

Running on Empty

Not for the first time at this point in any given astronomical year, I find myself running on empty, yearning for a snug little cave in which to curl up for a month or two.

This feeling was especially strong yesterday when I called the customer service number for an order gone wrong and was informed by a recorded voice that the wait time to speak with a representative was 209 minutes.

209.

Really???

Good night.

In the absence of a suitable cave, I picked up a paint brush.

 WIP, first marks

WIP, layers of greens

WIP, more color and texture

WIP, scribbles

The Holidays

My prayer this afternoon: Let me live every day as a holy day.

Ha! I'm not there yet. Went to take a photo after painting today. Battery dead in my phone. Charged it. Went outside to catch some late afternoon sun for light. My phone had no storage left. Zero. Could not take a single photo. Waited for Dave to come home so I could use his phone. Sun had gone down.

All I could say was, Holy moly.

---

Sometime last week, I took the start that I first posted on November 29 and cut it into quadrants. I continued developing one of those quadrants today, and then played with putting it under a mat and into a frame. Right now it's perched on a dresser and each time I see it, I feel as though I'm looking out a window.

work in progress

An Afternoon in Early December

My insides feel crowded and frenetic. As though my mind got poked with pins, and my thoughts got loose and are now running roughshod throughout the entire all of me.

Well then.

Thank goodness my feet know to walk to my studio. It is no easy task to outrun thoughts but, while I paint? … inner stillness.

detail, work in progress

Leaving a Trail

Hansel and Gretel left a trail behind themselves so they could retrace their steps to the safety of home. In the past few weeks I left a knee-deep, tangled, piled-on-top-of-itself trail in my home such that home is the last place I want to be!

However, today I relocated work-in-progress started November 23rd and posted on the 29th. Plus, I remembered photos I took that show how I developed the piece a bit further sometime between the 29th and today.

Itchy to get going again.

Last Seen at the Paper Trimmer

Last seen at my paper trimmer, each member of this series developed with quick intuitive touches of paint, ink, and oil pastel.

I sat with each until a title fell into place, then framed them and snapped photos (photographing art that's under glass? oy).

You Know What Is So and What Is Not
8 x 10" in 12 x 16" birch frame; acrylic, ink, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Everything That Happens to You Is Your Teacher
8 x 10" in 12 x 16" birch frame; acrylic, ink, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Sit at the Feet of Your Own Life
8 x 10" in 12 x 16" birch frame; acrylic, ink, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

See for Yourself How the Light Strikes the Ground
8 x 10" in 12 x 16" birch frame; acrylic, ink, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Open Studio

Have to say it's kinda fun when my 'kids' and I have someplace special to go, and we run around excitedly getting ready—taking showers, styling our hair just so, putting on accessories, and preening in front of full-length mirrors.

On Saturday, some of the kids were so excited to get out that they decided not to return home!

my 'kids' all gussied up at Porter Mill Open Studios 12/1/18

All the World in a Few Square Inches

A few quiet moments of nourishing contentment and absorption this afternoon:

• rounding up a scrap of textured watercolor paper,
• swishing the decisive blade of my paper trimmer to cut the scrap in half,
• gathering paint markers and red gel pen,
• poking around for tidbits of a trimmed painting,
• grabbing a glue stick,
• folding, gluing, writing.

A tiny bit of prep for my Saturday gig at open studios at Porter Mill.

Scattered

I am going in multiple directions mentally and physically.

I am writing this post the day after Thanksgiving. It probably won't see the light of day at my blog until late next week.

I am grateful that I choose to paint, grateful for the moments of wordless expression, for the physicality of brush strokes, for the centering.

detail, new work in progress

detail, new work in progress

Walking Through Some of My Doors

I am always so grateful when I can take, and even welcome, life as it comes, when I can walk through some of my doors to see beyond what I have until then perceived as limitations.

The Ability to Respond Gratefully to Problems
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Blame and Battle No Longer Apply
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Others Have Gone Through the Door Before Us
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Each of Us Goes Through the Door for Others
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Whole New Way of Seeing

Early in my years of active parenting, a friend directed my attention to Whole Child, Whole Parent by Polly Berrien Berends.

I had no idea at the time that it was the gift of a turning point.

The Road That Leads to the Road
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

The Suspicion That I'm Not Seeing Straight
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Dying to Wake Up
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Please Tell Me What My Mistaken Idea Is
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, pencil, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Starting Point

Every feeling except love is not-love.

Love. Not-love.

Let's go with that as a starting point.

I Awake Under the Dome of Pre-Dawn
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, India ink, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Unmoving, I Yet Move with Everything on Earth
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, India ink, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Artist Friends

Painting is largely a solitary pursuit for me. I paint in space I've carved from a bedroom in my home. Only occasionally do I paint with others.

Nonetheless, I have many artist friends, mostly via the wonders of the world wide web.

An artist whom I know personally, however, is my 8-year-old granddaughter, Emmy!

When we last drove the 600 miles to visit in October, Emmy had painted a canvas for us. Whenever we visit, there it will be to dazzle us in the room where we sleep.

She's fearless—look at the energy in this piece! the color! the movement! the size of the canvas! the complete freedom of expression!

The sections in the center are for us: Papawi and Gma. Then, moving counterclockwise starting top left, we are held in the embrace of her dada, mama, sister, and Emmy herself!

A w e s o m e !

Emmy's painting
30 x 42"; acrylic on canvas
2018

All the Time

A moment of zen is mine for the living whenever long-time friend Sarah, now a dog coach, posts on Instagram.

Recently:

Every living thing is learning, all the time. You can teach crazy or you can teach calm. The choice is yours.

Oh.

Yeah.

Now I remember. 

The choice is mine, crazy or calm. I feel myself breathing more deeply already.

No Boundaries Between Me and the Ground and the Grass
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, India ink, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

No Boundaries Between Me and the Planets
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, India ink, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Perspective

I'm captivated lately by shifting perspective, those experiences of suddenly seeing through new eyes, whether spiritually, intellectually, emotionally, and/or—more literally—visually.

Today I start with stuff. Stuff in drawers and baskets, stuff in boxes and folders—a transparent acrylic skin made in October, a painting exercise from 2016, calendar posters from 2014, a black envelope that came in the mail who knows when and bearing who knows what.

Cut a snippet of the acrylic skin, cut the painting exercise, cut the envelope, cut the calendar pages.

Blink.

Through new eyes unrelated stuff becomes two elegant greeting cards, completing a quartet whose other members stepped out together yesterday.

I think [s]he saw art 
where other people
saw nothing,
but that's the nature
of the artist
in the first place,
isn't it?

-Elizabeth George, For the Sake of Elena

Moon Lifts, Sun Drops, Pines Pirouette
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, ink, and watercolor pastel
abstract
2018

Lasso the Flames and Sparks If You Can
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, ink, collage, and watercolor pastel
abstract
2018

Holiday Open Studios & Small Works Sale Saturday 1 December 2018

Take a look at what’s been keeping me busy for the past few weeks.

I will have four pieces in a Small Works Show at Porter Mill Studios and I will be hosting an open studio on the 4th floor for in-absentia artist @meredithgisness. Both her art and mine will be on display and available for sale in studio 4-5. I invite you to visit!

Enter the front door of the building, proceed to the elevator down the hall in an alcove on the left; when you exit the elevator on the 4th floor, turn left and go through a door to where the studios are located. 4-5 will be on the left, 2nd studio. 

I look forward to seeing you!

Explore Porter Mill!

Experience the Beverly arts scene at our historic downtown mill building. This holiday market will feature four floors of artist's studios, with offerings that include paintings, prints, ceramics, photography, graphic design, jewelry and so much more. Enjoy demonstrations, refreshments, and a fabulous selection of local art for purchase. What a great opportunity to meet the artists, learn about their craft, and purchase directly from them! 

Gallery 95 will present the return of our annual Small Works Show & Sale. This exhibition features juried works drawn from the North Shore and beyond! You will find smaller artworks perfect for gift giving or for decorating!

95 Rantoul St Beverly, MA 

Conveniently across the street from the MBTA garage.

Open Studios 11am-5pm.

FREE and Open to the Public!

Multiplication

To multi-ply is to many-fold and, starting at a young age, my son Scott took a shine to folding paper airplanes, which led me to get him a beginner's book of origami instructions and a package of paper, which in turn led him, at age six, to have an exhibit at our public library of origami figures he'd folded, an exhibit that included an 18-inch-long Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton made from 21 squares of paper, each of which had many, many, many folds.

So it is that when I go rag-picking today, I find origami paper among my odds and ends, providing the perfect backdrop to two found compositions extracted from a 2016 improv exercise. Together, these elements become mono-fold greeting cards.

The Sun So Bright It Bounces Off the Water
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, ink, collage, and watercolor pastel
abstract
2018
sold

The Moon Folds Over and Then Straightens Out Again
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, ink, and watercolor pastel
abstract
2018

Resuscitation

This trio started as an experiment on the front porch of a cottage on Beaver Harbor in New Brunswick, Canada.

June, two years ago. Bright blue skies. Fresh air. Early morning sunlight.

Played with acrylic and oil pastel on a long strip of canvas paper. Did some cutting up, fiddled with some superimposing. Brought it home in a pile of several such experiments.

Moved it from drawer to drawer.  Sighed more than once at its incompletion. Fell into some negative self-talk.

Then, a few weeks ago, a bookmark sneaked out of it.

Today, a triptych of greeting cards. Couldn't be more pleased.

You never know!

Just a Ferry Ride Away from Dulse
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Unexpected Port of Call
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Responding to the Prevailing Wind
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Ragman

Years ago I'd often head to a former factory in Cambridge, MA, with friend Anne. What we referred to as "Ragman" was a place that in post World War II years bought used clothes in bulk and cut them into rags for industrial customers. Then, in the late 1970's, the owner decided to separate out less-worn items from the raw materials and sell them on weekends for $1 a pound.

Craziest place ever. Big plastic garbage bags instead of shopping carts. Clothes heaped all over the old wooden floor. No changing rooms. Big scale for checking out at the end.

Initially paralyzed, I'd eventually pick a starting place and begin pawing through. My left brain had no option but to yield to my right brain. I found the best clothes clothes there! $23—new wardrobe!

My studio is a little less rough around the edges, though not much. I paw through piles of past paintings, let my right brain rummage through all that raw material. I find the best stuff there!

Another series of cards:

The In-Between Moments of Slack Tide
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, ink, and pastels
abstract
2018

The Sea-Rich Muddy Harbor Floor
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, ink, and pastels
abstract
2018

Redolent with Pungent Gurry
4.25 x 5.5" greeting card; acrylic, ink, and pastels
abstract
2018