Practicing

This from Yoga Journal:

Rather than “How am I doing?,” the real questions are “Where am I still shutting down in fear and self-protection?” and “Where do I meet my edge, beyond which I’m not ready to go?” Practice is about noticing and experiencing these places—not with heaviness or guilt but just as something to be worked with … Practice always involves seeing our edge and taking a small step beyond it into the unknown.

I'm going to post work in progress today. I met an edge beyond which I wasn't ready to go (and I also ran out of time).

Tomorrow, I'll take small steps beyond my edge into the unknown.

acrylic paint spread with palette knife 

on crumpled tissue paper glued to poster paper

more paint

ink lines

scene carved with brush using negative space

Surrender

In trying to set up an appointment with me a prospective client said this morning, "I'm pretty much available 9-230 every weekday."

I blurted out, "I don't know if I could even make myself say those words out loud if they were my lines in a play! I wake up every day thinking, 'OH MY GOSH, how will I get everything done?'"

The point isn't that this client has oodles of free time. She doesn't. She works, has children in middle school, has a husband, keeps a home, and probably does a million other things, too.

The point is that I have just as much discretionary time as she does, but I don't think I do.

Long way of saying, I gotta get me some surrender going here! Be in the moment.

Where better to practice than in my studio?

Before sitting to write this post, and after going wild with unstretched canvas, charcoal, acrylics, ink, wax pastels, watercolor pencils, and oil pastels—layer after scribble after scratch after brush stroke after finger smudge—I took a refresher look at the word yield. Fun to be reminded: it means not only to relinquish possession of, give way, or give something up, but also to produce, provide, or deliver.

Yup.

Relinquished possession of control.
Gave way to impulse.
Gave up the idea of a specific outcome.
Produced shapes.
Provided color.
Delivered myself a painting.

Late Autumn Yield
5x7", charcoal pencil, acrylic, ink, wax pastels,
watercolor pencils, and oil pastels on unstretched canvas
abstract
2015
[gifted]

in process

1. 
   

Performance Art

A year ago in July I snapped a photo of an ebb tide trickling into Manchester's inner harbor. Came home and painted up the scene.

Ebb and Shadow
24x18", acrylic on stretched canvas
landscape
2014
$430

Today, as has happened before, sunlight coming in from a skylight created a brief "performance painting" in concert with a plant that was willing to engage in shadow play. The show lasted only as long as it took for the earth to turn, and my home with it, such that the skylight no longer captured the afternoon sunlight.

Linda's Grandbaby

Christian James

Wednesday 25 November 2015
4:45 pm

7 pounds 9 ounces

19.5 inches

Welcome to the world, baby boy!

Welcome to the World!
4x6", acrylic, ink, and oil pastels on watercolor paper
abstract
2015
[not for sale]

Joy!

Thirty-one years ago on a cold almost-winter Wednesday at 845a: Jay Walter!

Joy then, joy now.

Happy birthday, Jayby Baby!

Jayby Baby
4x6", acrylic, ink, and oil pastels on watercolor paper
abstract
2015
[not for sale]

Itinerant Art

For Muth's 86th birthday painting I chose a red frame for its color, but its best feature turned out to be that it was about an inch deep front to back, making it stable when set on any flat surface. It traveled with Muth from room to room at home, and then from perch to perch in her room at Norway Center.

I'm hoping to get a similar frame for the painting I'm in the process of creating to give with our donation to Norway Center—I'd like that painting to rotate around to whomever might need a little extra attention or lift. Could be a resident. Could be folks at the front desk. Could go into the physical therapy room or in an office. Wherever it goes, it can be propped in place to provide someone a little something new and different to look at. And then, when the time is right, it can go to the next person.

I paint up another option to consider for Norway Center. I use acrylics, ink, and pastels. I play with soothing watery imagery, with softnesses, with colors that carry gentle energy, with space that allows me to go as deep as I want or to float on the surface.

A Soft Place to Land
5x7", acrylic, ink, wax pastels, and oil pastels on canvas paper
abstract
2015
available $35 as of 2/2016

Open Valve

All morning I feel as though anyone who looks at me will assume I've been crying for hours.

I have not, but I feel dammed up, swollen with floodwaters.

I go to my studio thinking, Notice where your attention is moment to moment. Just that.

I paint whatever my gut tells me to paint. Notice one thing and another that doesn't work.

I keep moving, adjusting, trying the next thing.

I apply paint. Scribble ink. Add oil pastel.

I wipe off oil pastel. Go in with more paint.

I sit outdoors on the front porch and add ink. Give a few more swipes with pastel.

Feel a shift.

Notice my attention moving to the tape holding my paper in place. Pull it off.

Weep.

Swimming Through Tears
5x7", acrylic, ink, oil pastels on poster paper
abstract
2015
$35