On My Nightstand, on My Easel (13)

On my nightstand

Become willing to press 
against the bruise—
it's there anyway—
and see what it yields.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

hahaha!—pressing against the bruise!
work in regress, 32 days in, 5/20/20
24 x 48" canvas

Five Bob's Worth of Roman Candles

'B-but, Mr. Jimson, I w-want to be an artist.'

'Of course you do,' I said, 'everybody does once. But they get over it, thank God, like the measles and the chickenpox. Go home and go to bed and take some hot lemonade and put on three blankets and sweat it out.'

'But, Mr. J-jimson, there must be artists.'

'Yes, and lunatics and lepers, but why go and live in an asylum before you're sent for? If you find life a bit dull at home,' I said, 'and want to amuse yourself, put a stick of dynamite in the kitchen fire, or shoot a policeman. Volunteer for a test pilot, or dive off Tower Bridge with five bob's worth of roman candles in each pocket. You'd get twice the fun at about one-tenth the risk.'
                                                                                                                                             
                                                                                                                          —Joyce Cary

Why Go and Live in an Asylum Before You're Sent For?
6 x 6"; acrylic, pastel, and collage on gessobord
abstract
2019

Dissipation

Yesterday's stories are yesterday's stories—breaking up into little pieces, spreading thin, scattering, blowing away in the least bit of breeze like so much dandelion fluff.

work in progress

Slapstick 12/26/17

I've posted dozens of painting experiments over the past few years, and mostly I've liked them—in large part because it's hard for me to let go of a painting and consider it 'finished' until I like it!

This one doesn't call out to me but, what the heck, I'm posting it anyway.

Internal success: slap it down, let it stick >>> slapstick!

Truth to tell, there are two bits here that appeal to me visually: pale blue scribbles on top of black, textural white lines that could be waves washing onto shore.

Even so, I might throw this one in the trash bin which is surprisingly difficult for me. It'll be a true letting go, if I do.

Started here:

Stopped here:

4x5"; acrylic, India ink, collage, and pastel on paper
abstract
2017

Now What?

I am grateful that my deepest purest self knows better than what my monkey mind offers up as truth.

That monkey-mind chatter is pretty darned convincing, though.

And loud? Oh my gosh, so loud.

And seemingly unremitting.

The chatter started up in full force yesterday when I messed up this work in progress which had been sweet and magical … up until it decidedly was not.

Big mistake. Big. Huge. 

Too bad I didn't think to watch the shopping scene from Pretty Woman yesterday—that video clip would have snapped me right out of the deep funk I fell into!

As it was, even in my pain, which acted as a lightning rod for every single blessed thing that didn't go the way I hoped it would yesterday, I was able to turn a deaf ear to monkey-mind's taunts for just enough moments to know that all was well, no matter the apparent evidence to the contrary.

Soon enough, I found myself at peace again, able to feel the excitement that comes from having a puzzle to solve and a what-if mindset. 

I returned to the spirit that artist Jacqui Beck so well embodies. She follows the ad-lib theater rule, which is, Always say yes. She gives the following example: 

Oh, man …  this black … I just painted so much black over this. 

Yes, I did. 

Now what?

My answer to now what was to set aside Big Mistake, pick up a second start from the same series, and start to play.

work in progress

12/24", Day 3

I don't know if I have any memories specific to my being three years old, but I channeled my three-year-old self today in my studio.

I let her pick up whatever paint/glue/stencil/marker/ink/brush/collage caught her eye, let her do whatever the heck she wanted on both canvases.

Once or twice she looked over her shoulder but no one stopped her so she just kept playing, getting wide-eyed at the surprises that appeared and disappeared.

12/24" #1 and #2, work in progress

Salle de Bain Galerie

A 5x7" panel currently resides in my en suite bathroom where it acts as a periodic visual reminder throughout the day to drop my shoulders down from holding up my ears. I see it just often enough for it to serve its purpose.

I come back to my breath.

The panel looked like this in June 2015.

Jonesport Geometry

Never liked it.

Grabbed it a couple of weeks ago and started using it as a 'throw-away' board, a panel on which I off-load the last bits of paint from my brush rather than wash that valuable commodity down the drain. I have no game-plan currently other than to reactivate the panel for some future painting.

Until then, I'll keep off-loading residual paint and returning to my breath.