Coming to Life (8)

How wonderful to recognize the presence

of a mistaken idea as a mistaken idea!

Such notions have power

only if they are believed in

and only as long as the belief lasts.

Even before truth is realized,

guilt, blame, and bitterness 

begin to die, and inspired ideas

get born as we begin to see

what questionable ideas

we are living around.

—Polly Berrien Berends, Coming to Life

Before:

After:

Give Up Your Part in the Melodrama

3.5 x 5.5" postcard; acrylic, ink, and collage on cardstock
abstract
2020

Coming to Life (7)

Since most problems are by-products 
of erroneous survival-seeking thoughts,
it is very hard to give them up.
We dare not give them up for good
until we see that they are not necessary.
The secret is to give them up
for just one moment.
Just for one moment.

Polly Berends, Coming to Life


Before:

After:  

Try This: Sit Down, Get Still, Remember God
3.5 x 5.5" postcard; acrylic, ink, and collage on cardstock
abstract
2020

Coming to Life (6)

We tell each other stories,

baffling little anecdotes

from firsthand experience,

and then we look at them

in a spiritual light.

We try to see what ideas

are running our lives.

Then we look for truer,

spiritual ideas and consider

how to let them

take charge of us.

—Polly Berrien Berends, Coming to Life

Before:

After:

The Suspicion That We Aren't Seeing Straight
3.5 x 5.5" postcard; acrylic, ink, and collage on cardstock
abstract
2020

Coming to Life (5)

Every now and then, feeling along the wall,

one of us comes to a corner and discovers

another wall, feels along that wall,

comes to a door, opens it, and is confronted

by a much larger, brighter space

where he finds that he can see. The rest of us

see the light on him. When he steps outside,

we wonder where he has gone. 

Now by the light shining through 

the empty doorway we find our way as well.

Others have gone through the door for us.

Each of us goes through the door for others.

     —Polly Berrien Berends, Coming to Life

Before:

After:

The Whole World Wakes Up a Little
3.5 x 5.5" postcard; acrylic, ink, and collage on cardstock
abstract
2020

Coming to Life (3)

So for now

travel with me

on this journey

by train of thought.

Look out the window of your soul

and see for yourself

how the light strikes the ground—

from your particular vantage point,

at this now and that here.

I wish you a pleasant journey,

 a bon voyage,

a good seeing.

Polly Berends, Coming to Life

Before:

After:

Begin to Notice What Is Uppermost in Your Mind
3.5 x 5.5" postcard; acrylic, ink, and collage on cardstock
abstract
2020

Coming to Life (2)

The idea is 
to lose our life
to find it 
by losing our mind
to find it. 
For just this one moment,
live by and rely on the sufficiency
of the immediately available truth
as if you knew it was reliable.
That's when,
not before,
we feel this force beneath us.
We cannot feel its force
until we are relying on it utterly.

Polly Berrien Berends, Coming to Life


Before:

After:

God Is as Reliable as I Am Reliant
3.5 x 5.5" postcard; acrylic, ink, and collage on cardstock
abstract
2020

-----

Really had fun painting with collage here. The intuitive unfettered free-play exercised when creating the original sketch gave way to the satisfyingly focused detail-oriented color-matching and finishing I did just now, two years later. 

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (17)

On my nightstand

She didn’t think Jack 

had ever felt 

the coming and going 

in quite the same way 

she had. 

To leave, 

               after all, 

was not the same 

as being left.

Anita Shreve, The Pilot's Wife

On my easel

work in progress, 40 days in, 5/28/20
24 x 48" canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (16)

On my nightstand

She took careful steps 

across the floor, 

as if moving too fast 

might set something in motion 

that hadn’t yet begun.

Anita Shreve, The Pilot's Wife

On my easel

something in motion!
detail, work in progress, 36 days in, 5/24/20
24 x 48" canvas

Spot the Differences, Part 2

In the images below, spot the differences between the right-hand side of the original painting as it appeared when first cut (on left) and that same piece once completed (on right):

     

Spot the Differences, Part 1

Spot the Differences is a type of puzzle where players must find differences between two otherwise similar images. These puzzles are commonly found in activity books for children.

I flash back to sitting in a dentist's waiting room as a youngster, searching for such differences between two images in a Highlights for Children magazine.

You remember that You Need Not and You Need Only were originally part of one larger painting that I cut in half.

work in progress before the cut
early August 2019

In the images below, spot the differences between the left-hand side of the original painting as it appeared when first cut (on left) and that same piece once completed (on right):

     

Salt Marshes

Like estuaries, salt marshes are also located in the intertidal zone. In my neck of the woods, these dynamic biological communities are marked by salt-tolerant vegetation often found among a mosaic of meandering tidal creeks.

Glaciers scoured the Northern Massachusetts coast thousands of years ago and mud, silt, and clay sediments settled out of the water to form extensive mudflats in many of the protected areas of the coast. Twice a day at low tide, in what became a perpetually repeated process over millennia, portions of these mudflats were exposed to open air. Seeds from Spartina alterniflora and Spartina patens took root in the mud. As grasses sprouted and spread through underground rhizomes, the thick growth began to trap more sediments and organic matter which raised the level of the marsh. The organic matter and dead spartina grasses accumulated underneath the new growth as peat. Over time, rich, complex, interconnected living ecosystems evolved.

Um, is it just me, or does this sound like my painting process?!

You Need Only Breathe In, Breathe Out
10.5 x 13.5"; acrylic, latex, ink, collage, and oil pastel on drawing paper
abstract landscape
2019

Estuaries

Estuaries are ecosystems that can be found along both bay and ocean shores in what is known as the intertidal zone—any area that is regularly inundated by the tide where fresh water and sea water meet. 

Deriving from the Middle Dutch root brak, the term brackish is used for intertidal water which has more salinity than fresh water but not as much as sea water.

During the making of this painting, I was abundantly immersed in brackish water, with tides moving in and tides moving out as I went back-and-forth-back-and-forth between free intuitive expression and thoughtful intentional refinement, feeling at a core level how rich and abundant the multidirectional flow is, every part of the flux vital.

You Need Not Name the Inbreath, Nor The Out
10.5 x 13.5"; acrylic, latex, ink, collage, and oil pastel on drawing paper
abstract landscape
2019

Following My Nose

Eighteen months ago, in March 2018, I started playing with a huge sheet of foam core given to me by a friend when she moved to a new home previously owned by an artist who'd left some materials behind. I covered the foam core with a thin slapdash coat of gesso, penciled off a grid of 40 six-inch squares and various rectangles, adhered tissue and magazine collage randomly, and started playing. I considered the 'canvas' to be an erasable space, so to speak, where I could follow my nose to try out this and that.

activated canvas

After a few months, I ended up with a 'patchwork quilt' painting roughly 3 x 4 feet in size. 

close to completion

Fast forward to May of this year when I took a photo of one patch and used it to make an email birthday card for a friend. She asked if I still had the original painting and if it was available for sale.

Yes, I still had the original. 

Was it available for sale? Uh … sort of.

Well, you know me: I'm all about cutting up my paintings. Even, it turns out, my paintings on foam core! I pressed my husband and his skill saw into service and proceeded to keep on following my nose. 

The Song of the World So Often Rises
in Places We Had Not Thought to Look
5.75 x 6.5" in 9 x 9" frame
acrylic, ink, and collage
abstract floral
2019

detail
left to right: birch frame, green mat, cream mat,
whitewashed 1927-dictionary-page collage,
painted edge of half-inch-thick foam core, and
The Song of the World on surface of foam core

Portal

Another postcard—second one developed from a section of a larger start painted a year ago June in a cottage on Lake Champlain.

I am slack-jawed in wonder yet again by the mystery of creating a whole world in a plot of real estate that measures no more than four by six inches. I pick up brush, or pencil, or pastel, or collage, and find myself somewhere else entirely, in an expansive realm without boundaries.

Small Acts of Kindness Bond You Over a Lifetime
4x6" postcard; acrylic, ink, oil pastel, and collage on drawing paper, mounted on card stock
abstract landscape
2019

Noticing #7

noticing:

• how curious I am about life stories as I meet people on Deer Isle

• how lost I feel of late about ‘my’ ‘painting life’

• how I tighten when I think about packing to leave

• how drawn I am to folks’ stories of decisions and dreams

• how lost I can get in the creative act of painting

detail, work in progress

detail

detail

detail

The Height of Summer

Process: bouquets of freeplay, a whole mess of weeds to tease out, plenty of watering, a touch of fertilizer.

The sacred gift of a dormant seed's coming to life awes me every single time.

A Life in Which a Traffic Jam Is the Worst Thing That Will Happen to You
11x14"; acrylic, ink, oil pastel, and collage
abstract floral
2018

enlarged details:

Behind the Scenes

Behind the scenes, in the deep absorption and intuitive flow of making my bookmarks, I took sweet pleasure in many of the details:

• the LLBean packaging enclosure that was printed on cardstock in exactly the same color palette as the book jackets;

• the calendar Dave passed my way in February, with its offerings of print on various background colors;

• my own art printed in a 2017 Shutterfly calendar that provided collage material;

• the power outage that entertained me with many hilarious challenges as I worked;

• the personal power surge that resulted when Dave didn't have the energy to deal with some financial paperwork we were scheduled to undertake together, thereby leaving me free to play;

•  the cutting of the cardstock into two narrow strips halfway through the process and developing each separately; and

• the toss into our recycling bin of an older handpainted bookmark (of similar palette) that I've never liked.

Sure hope I like the two novels for which I've customized my new masterpieces!

book from library

This Road We Traveled
1.5x6"; acrylic, India ink, collage, and oil pastel on card stock
abstract
2018

perfect pair

Souvenirs

I just cannot tell you how completely engaging and satisfying it was to make two bookmarks recently—during a whopper nor'easter, no less!

In the kind of story you've heard from me before, with slight variations, when I woke up on that Friday, no bookmarks, and no intention of making any. Zero.

I got up, exercised, prepped some food, scrubbed the downstairs bathroom, met with friends for playgroup, went to the library to collect two books on reserve.

Two books: different authors, different genres, different settings, different cover artists.

Same color palette on their covers.

And me with no bookmarks in that color palette.

A day later, it was as though I'd invented two new countries and put them on the map. I certainly traveled somewhere wholly new while creating—I picked up the tools of my trade and a piece of 3x6" cardstock, started painting, and moved through that tiny 18-square-inch portal out of the universe in which I usually reside into a fully different universe just as vast.

And returned with souvenirs of startling beauty.

I'll feature one today, the other tomorrow.

book from library

Summer Hours
1.5x6"; acrylic, India ink, collage, and oil pastel on card stock
abstract
2018

match made in heaven