Dear Diary

Random 'pages'
from a visual diary
depicting the history
of a single painting
that expresses
my inner life
across several months
during a time
of intense
personal and global
not knowing …

4/19/20

5/8/20

detail, 5/21/20

detail, 5/26/20

detail, 6/4/20

The Smell of Freshly Cut Grass Itching at My Nose
24 x 48"; acrylic, charcoal, pencil, oil pastel, and collage on canvas
abstract landscape
2020

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (20)

 On my nightstand

If my nose were cut off 

I would have no memories. 

When I have lain awake all night 

and my eyes are finally closing 

I’ll get a whiff of something far off, 

from another year, 

another county ...

Sometimes there are only smells: 

the smell of chickens; 

the smell of Miss Finch’s stale breath 

and the hard candies by her bed, 

peppermint, 

all stuck together with the heat of her house; 

the smell of Matt’s math books 

where you crack the bindings, they’re so new; 

the smell of May in the kitchen 

frying the onions.

Jane Hamilton, The Book of Ruth

On my wall!

The Smell of Freshly Cut Grass Itching at My Nose
24 x 48"; acrylic, charcoal, pencil, oil pastel, and collage on canvas
abstract landscape
2020

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (19)

On my nightstand

Inside his head, 
questions 
like race cars 
shuddered in a row, 
waiting to roar off. 
Suddenly 
he let the first one go.

Ouida Sebestyen, I.O.U.'s


On my easel

work in progress, 85 days in (after a long break), 7/12/20
detail
playing with questions
24 x 48" canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (18)

On my nightstand

And then she moved 

from shock to grief 

the way she might 

enter another room. 

Anita Shreve, The Pilot's Wife

On my easel

work in progress, 47 days in, 6/4/20
24 x 48" canvas

On My Nightstand, On my Easel (11)

On my nightstand

I always think I should know more.
But really, I need to remind myself
that this not-knowing 
is at the heart
of the creative endeavor …  [is]
what often creates the energy,
portent, and momentum
in the piece of work itself.

It requires faith in the process.

The imagination has its own coherence.
There's always time for thinking
and shaping and restructuring later,
after we've allowed something
previously hidden
to emerge on the page.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

detail, with birthday card envelope collage
work in progress, 28 days in, 5/16/20
24 x 48" on canvas

detail, with birthday card envelope collage
work in progress, 28 days in, 5/16/20
24 x 48" on canvas

detail, with birthday card envelope collage
work in progress, 28 days in, 5/16/20
24 x 48" on canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (10)

On my nightstand

I've learned to be wary 
of those times
when I think I know 
what I'm doing.
I've discovered 
that my best work
comes from 
the uncomfortable
but fruitful
feeling of not having a clue—
of being worried,
secretly afraid,
even convinced
that I'm on the wrong
track.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

detail
work in progress, 20 days in, 5/8/20
24 x 48" on canvas

detail
work in progress, 20 days in, 5/8/20
24 x 48" on canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (9)

On my nightstand

Be willing to stand
at the base of a new mountain
and, with humility and grace,
bow to it.
Allow yourself to understand
that it's bigger than you,
or anything you can possibly imagine.
You're not sure of the path.
You're not even sure where 
the next step will take you.
When you begin,
whisper to yourself:
I don't know.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

work in progress, 20 days in, 5/8/20
24 x 48" canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (8)

On my nightstand

Think of a ballet dancer
at the barre.
Plié, 
elevé, 
battement tendu.
She is practicing,
because she knows
that there is no difference
between practice and art.
The practice
is
the art.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

detail with dictionary collage
work in progress, 18 days in, 5/6/20
24 x 48" canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (7)

On my nightstand

Straining to know the whole of the story before you set out 
is a bit like imagining great-grandchildren on a first date. 
But you can start with the smallest detail. 
Give us the gravel scattering along the highway 
as the pickup truck roars past. 
The crumb of food the wife wipes from her husband's beard. 
The ripped bottom of a girl's faded jeans. 
Anchor yourself somewhere—
anywhere—
on the page. 
You are committing, yes—
but the commitment is to this tiny corner. 
One word. 
One image. 
One detail. 
Go ahead. 
Then see what happens.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

detail
work in progress, 16 days in, 5/4/20
24 x 48" canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (4)

On my nightstand

                              Breathe
until you stop needing 
anything to be different                             

Julia Fehrenbacher, "The Cure for It All"



On my easel

work in progress, 11 days in, 4/29/20
24 x 48" on canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (3)

On my nightstand

We spend hours in our backyard playhouse. 
We play house,
we play store,
we play movie stars.
We play and play,
humming with summer.

Judy Goldman, Losing My Sister: A Memoir


On my easel

detail
work in progress, 11 days in, 4/29/20
24 x 48" canvas

24x48, Day 1

May my lived experience with Finding God boost my courage as I start fresh with a new piece. If nothing else, I've begun in the same impulsive impatient manner, by activating the canvas before fully pulling off the plastic wrap!

painting start, day 1, afternoon, 4/18/20
24 x 48" canvas

day1, detail