Rest my chemistry

Hey Folks. 

I am going to do something I haven't done in a while. I am simply going to share a bit of Interpol doing what they do best. Cheering me up and bringing the tunes. Here they are live on KEXP.

Until next week, you know what to do - keep fighting!

And if you are from the USA make a plan to vote in the midterms, vote early if you can, and if you are living abroad, get your ballot in the post as soon as possible!

The universe sings

New work, 30x30cm, 2026

Spread thin like water, stretched and open - elemental. 

Colours dance and move back and forth

It can be that simple. 

_______________________________

In other news, Leith is the best. 

Whether it's having chai and a long blether with a friend in a local cafe on Leith Walk, going to see the opening of a brilliant group exhibition at MOTE 102, or walking down the road to Coburg House to visit all the lovely artists in their studios, Leith is the place to be. 

I thank my lucky stars for the community I live in. I am so fortunate to be surrounded by such passionate, talented, kind, and solid people. Thank you for sharing your gifts. 

Go support these hard-working artists and inspiring venues.

Until next week, the project continues. 

Keep fighting.

You bloom in spring

my studio wall for my mother because she likes it

Spring has sprung! The light in the studio has been calling me. Even if I just sit and stare out the window or organise my materials, it's a better day. I love touching all the things - twine, hanging wires, screws, pencils, scissors, and all my various tools. I enjoy putting like with like and lining them up in order. I find it very satisfying. I found an Ikea peg board for £3 at a charity shop recently and was then able to source some 3-D printed hooks on Vinted very affordably that fit it. Good value and making things come together fills me with joy. The studio provides ample opportunity for this.

I hate tape but I have loads of it

This week I went through my painting rack and found at least nine canvases that I have decided no longer work. I asked a fellow painter to look over them as well to make sure I wasn't making any "rash decisions." I wrote that "one canvas might have a Lynchian promise, but many just feel unfinished - like forced thoughts that didn't materialise." I think they are all getting painted over and any photos of them removed from my archive. I haven't painted over anything in years - but now is the time again. Canvases don't grow on trees and I know I can paint something better or perhaps more meaningful than what is there currently.

I have been walking more this week and taking photos while enjoying the flowers and blooming trees. I also planted my garden - carrots, beets, radish, potatoes, onions, scallions, cabbage, broccoli, courgette, and loads of flowers. It's always a bit of an experiment. I don't worry about it much - I just see what works and what doesn't - no stress. Last year I was delighted with my potatoes and spinach. It's always a creative practice in my square foot garden. I'll keep you updated.

Yesterday, I had the unique opportunity of helping a friend and fellow artist deliver his and his partner's work to a prestigious exhibition. I really enjoyed the experience. It reminded me how comfortable I am around art - handling it with care and wanting it to look its best. Seeing all the work being unloaded from crates and packages in the gorgeous gallery space was a thrill and a comfort, and also a lot of work! It's a good feeling to be able to help someone and I got a lot out of it too. The experience reminded me of where I feel I belong and this is helpful so that I can compare it to the experiences where I feel I don't.

Princes street gardens

Later in the day, I met up with another artist and we enjoyed the sunshine in Princes Street Gardens which is bursting with Spring beauty. We had an important and good chat about art and life and made plans for an art adventure next week.

And on this gorgeous day, that's all I have for you. This post has been brought to you by the sun, a homemade blueberry Matcha, and one song on repeat.

Thanks for being here and please keep fighting for comfort and joy, for all.

Celebration, memory, and world building

I will make a new world with your rubbish

It's my Birthday weekend here at the Studio Blog. 

I think I started celebrating last Friday with my "Good Morning" painting as it was a wonderful gift to myself in action and result. I have enjoyed being greeted by my painting each morning since. 

On Tuesday I spent all day in my garden tackling an ancient vine because I was inspired by a piece of discarded fencing that had been catching my eye for months. I had a vision and knew what I needed to do. There is nothing I like more than finding something discarded and creating a new world and home for it. It is the ultimate thrill and mix of creativity and gumption. I ended up reworking my whole garden due to someone's rubbish. Both the day in the studio painting something full of joy for myself out of an "old bastard" of a painting and creating a pot stand out of someone's rubbish are examples of decisive action and world building. Two things that I thrive on and want more of. A great way to celebrate my life and understanding of how I best operate within it. 

Paul Gauguin, Vision of the Sermon (Jacob Wrestling with the Angel), 1888

Continuing on the themes of celebration and world building, I took myself out to the National Gallery of Scotland on a quiet Wednesday morning. I decided to take my time and scan several of the audio descriptions of the works around the gallery. I enjoyed being still and listening to various scholars tell me the hidden insights of the paintings in the collection over my earbuds. It was a luxurious treat to really look at the paintings with new purpose and fresh eyes. 

I especially enjoyed the audio descriptions of the following pieces: 

Leonardo da Vinci, The Madonna of the Yarnwinder, about 1501
Attributed to Grifo di Tancredi, The Death of St Ephraim and Scenes from the Lives of the Hermits, About 1280 - 1290

Diego Velázquez, An Old Woman Cooking Eggs, 1618

Sir Anthony van Dyck, The Lomellini Family, about 1625 - 1627
Vincent van Gogh, Orchard with Apricot Trees in Blossom, Arles, 1888

Paul Gauguin, Vision of the Sermon (Jacob Wrestling with the Angel), 1888

I highly recommend the self-guided audio tours. 

Later that day I was surprised with a lovely art opportunity (more on that later, but it felt like a birthday gift in itself.) 

Dad in the 1970s, Charcoal on cardboard

On Thursday, it was the one year anniversary of my father's death. I listened to Dave Bruebeck. I thought of my father and meditated on our relationship and it felt very meaningful and cathartic. I spent some time looking at photographs and studying his face and decided that I wanted to draw him. It was such a good and meaningful way to spend time together again. The tears and memories flowed. I love and miss you, Dad. 

54

For my birthday on Friday, I had a lovely day out with my dear friend Julia. There was sunshine and a lovely walk up Calton Hill to survey the city, followed by a delightful lunch of tacos. Then we were on the hunt for the best cake with a view which we found. Afterwards, as we walked on, we encountered a street scene featuring a brass band and spontaneous street singers. It really couldn't have been much better.

It was a beautiful day full of friendship, community, and a dash of magic. I went to sleep tired and grateful. 

Thank you for spending time with me as I continue to celebrate. I hope wherever you are that the flowers are blooming and there is music in the air. 

Until next week, keep fighting - the world needs you. 

Tend to the small fires

Awake in the dark, the screen illuminates my fingers as a cup of coffee balances on the arm of the sofa. Flames of dancing light from my electric fire pretend to lap the air. Kodomotachi by Susumu Yokota plays on my big headphones.

It's Friday morning; the work week is behind me once again. This is a strange way for me to think about time. When one is self-employed (as I have been for much of my life), the work week is never behind you. Time has been bending in on itself, forward and then back. I am somewhere in between - my dreams vivid, the subconscious hard at work.

I didn't "make art" this past Sunday but I reflected on it and discussed these thoughts with my mother. We felt that this counted as a "sunday session." I hope to return to making art this weekend.

Last Sunday, I attended a cultural event, which is perhaps even better than making art, due to the energy exchange that comes from being around like-minded people with a singular focus. 

I was fortunate to see Stewart Copeland (the brilliant drummer of The Police and a gifted composer) speak about his life and work at The Queen's Hall. He was always my favourite member of the band. I still vividly recall the pride I felt as I wore my new Ghost in the Machine Tour t-shirt (a gift from my brothers who had actually seen the tour) to elementary school when I was barely ten. Years later, I wore that same shirt to a Black Flag show in 1986; at fourteen, though, I remember feeling pretty square in it. Needless to say, I left that gig wearing a different band's name. 

Anyway, I loved The Police, and Stewart Copeland was the best, so seeing him tell his stories about it all was a delight. Beyond his obvious talents, he is funny, irreverent, whip smart, and is an expert storyteller. Laughing at his antics as part of an audience of his admirers felt good and warm. 

On Monday, I met up with my good pal, Ever Dundas for a return visit to the secret garden in the city centre. With our hot chocolates, we enjoyed talking about all things music while sitting in the garden on a bench in the sun. It was a lovely outing. Music and friends make the world go round. 

Before I met up with Ever, I popped into Edinburgh Central Library to visit the Art & Design Library housed upstairs. I was short on time, but it was good to peruse a few art books and to just see what they had on offer.

Tuesday was a grey day of rain and remembrance, tears, and smiles.

Wednesday and Thursday were filled with work and meetings, and now here we are.
I am not sure what this weekend and week ahead holds. 

I'll leave you with my cheeky visage just to show off my latest charity shop acquisition (the necklace) because I love it and finding such treasures brings me joy. And we can all use a bit more of that.

Thank you for spending some of your precious time with me. Until next week, keep fighting for good, take care, and stay warm.

Work well not hard

Small canvas work in progress

Hello Dear Readers,

I am not sure what is going on but my old studio blog is getting a lot of traction, especially in these last two months - the numbers suggest bots, but I will choose to hope there are real people behind the ever expanding view count. Hello! Thanks for joining me on this Friday ritual that has spanned over 18 years now. 

It's a gorgeous morning, a cool breeze rustles the leaves of the bay tree two doors down. I have a cup of Earl Grey (been off the matcha since having Covid) and I am listening to frequencies designed to help me focus.

The world continues to be "wild at heart and weird on top." The flood of information and outrage is really too much to bear by design. 

I have the privilege and deep need to focus on the breeze on the back of my neck, the way the sunlight makes patterns on the floor, and currently the ability to prioritise my relative peace. 

As I mentioned last week, I had Covid. I am now on the mend and grateful that I recovered as quickly and as easily as I did. Still not fun and quite worrisome at times of course, but I am glad to be feeling better (and grateful for vaccines and science).

You know that statement, "Do something your future self would thank you for?" I often struggle to know what statements like this actually mean, but I think I have figured it out. I just happened to feel inspired to batch cook and freeze portions of 3 different meals for myself before I got sick. It was incredible to have these tasty and wholesome lunches and dinners waiting for me each day that I was ill. I was struck by how smart, efficient, and caring it was to have done this small task that took maybe an hour and gave back so much more than the time I put in. This is something I will try to do more of in the future. I am a good cook (I think a lot of artists are) and it was such a gift to myself to be able to enjoy these meals. 

In other news, I was able to paint. I worked on two more new pieces in my Sunday series, just laying the ground work for what I will try to finish this Sunday. I seem to be developing more natural rhythms in my life that work with my brain rather than against it. It feels good to have these particular days, times, or hours for these specific activities. I have always mentioned that in painting, I find a limited palette more expansive. I think I am working toward creating a more "limited palette" for my whole life. You can do so much with four of your favourite colours, why mess with the ones that confuse, conflict, and muddy the waters? Seems like applying this to life could also be beneficial. 

canvas panel in progress

I will continue to take it easy this weekend, work more on my paintings, enjoy the light, music, and try to cook myself up some more care. I hope you can do something similar. You are worth the kindness you show yourself. You are worth the slowness, the time spent lost in your thoughts and dreams. These are gentle acts of resistance, joy, and love and are more important than you know. Please keep fighting. 

Tear it up

under the earth (there is a stone heart)

I am sitting in my favourite chair on a Friday so this can only mean one thing, we are here again. We are spending time together on the Studio Blog. 

The first thing I tend to do these days, is review my photos to remind me of the past week. Then I will flick through my brain waves and see if there were any major themes that I am willing to share. 

Last week's post proved strangely popular according to the numbers - perhaps everyone loves a bit of small furniture or perhaps it was the photos of the dark paintings on the easel. 

On Sunday, I went to the local car boot sale with a pal, and purchased mundane things that I needed - in other words, no vintage spoons, art books, or anything cool. There was matcha (of course) and many laughs were had. Sunday also brought the fifth week of my art discussion sessions with my mother. My mom continued to work on her bird sculpture and I worked to rectify the two darkest canvases. They became slightly surreal - other worlds. See above and below. 

separation state

This week, I also received a concept to explore further in my art. The conditions were right, so the idea felt comfortable enough to let itself be known. A bigger than usual concept, of the sort I haven't had in a long time. I am not quite ready to present it here. But there is something afoot, it's happening now, and it's showing up in my daily life. I hope to be able to explore it a bit more this weekend and roll around with it. Stay tuned.

In other news, I cut my hair even shorter than usual and that was a relief. It always is - the shorter my hair, the more I feel like myself. My street finding energy was strong this week - let's just say, I have a new cool shoe wardrobe and that brings me joy. 

Los Retumbes

Last night, I went to a Fringe gig featuring the Spanish band, Los Retumbes. It was a joy to be able to walk 3 minutes to see 3 bands (The Screamin Kick and The Bad Moods opened) along with my friends and neighbours and all for a good cause, benefiting the community. I had a smile on my face the whole time they played their high energy set. I bought a t-shirt to support the band. They are playing again at Elvis Shakespeare tomorrow (Saturday 9 Aug) at 2:30 (free show) for any locals reading this.

Speaking of other cool Leith Fringe happenings for the locals: Go check out Cyan Clayworks during their Fringe exhibition and open studio. Chris and Fiona are good people, and you need their work and their vision in your lives. They have prints and photos along with their stellar ceramic works for you to enjoy in their gorgeous studio. 

And that's all the news I have for you this week. The world seems impossibly tragic and difficult right now and if you are struggling, you are not alone. What gives me comfort are the various communities I am part of and giving myself permission to find and hold on to joy. Your joy and my joy may not look the same and the jerks of the world hate that - so have more of it. Silence their voices with your kindness, your sparkle, and your open heart. 

Keep fighting and I will too.

The Small Furniture

a collection of weeks

I can't believe it's already Friday (says every older person everywhere). Time slides past at a rapid pace. Why do the first 18 years of life go at a snail's pace and then pick up speed steadily thereafter? Do our developing brains perceive time differently?

Regardless, here I am sitting in my favourite chair by the open window. Today's song endlessly loops on my headphones as I write. A strong matcha over ice in a tall blue handblown glass from Terra Studios in Arkansas will light the fire within. 

I am going to take a page out of my friend Julia's wonderful blog this week, and perhaps just share a few flashes from my week. 

You can see the paintings (above) in progress on my easel from the weekly prompted sessions with my mother. Last Sunday, I didn't have much in me, but I did work on two pieces rather than just one even if it was mostly just painting things black. Progress, not perfection, and all that. 

But I have gotten ahead of myself. On Saturday there was the Stop Trump Rally and demonstrations at various locations across Scotland. I went along with my neighbours and it was good to see so many people out and outraged.

Scots give good signage

On the way home, after the protest, I took a photo of the St. Columba's Charity Shop window as they do a good job of their display. It is always full of colour, pattern, and a sense of nostalgia. I needed and enjoyed the visual relief.

Charity shop vibes

On Monday, I took a bright neighbourhood walk around some of my favourite parts of the Water of Leith. I have been dealing with a random hip injury and haven't been walking quite as much this past month. The sun was bright and lovely and the sky was blue. I went to visit my Scottish friend tree (my original friend tree, was my childhood touchstone back in Arkansas). I was unnerved to find my local tree had been cut back significantly by the council. I hate that it has been disturbed but I also know it was diseased in parts and they seem to be doing a very careful job trimming it. I must have faith that it is being cared for and not that it is about to be destroyed - that would be too much for me to bear. I told it that it was strong and resilient, and to root down and resist if needed. I kissed its knobbly bark and thanked it for its grounding presence in my life. I have two wee branches of it now in my home - I love it so.

water of leith

Scottish friend tree

On Tuesday, I met my pal Julia in the city centre for lunch and a blether. We met on the steps of the National Museum of Scotland on Chambers Street. It was a strange thrill to sit on the big steps and wait for my pal. I have always liked sitting on the sidewalks/pavements and I used to say that anywhere I could do that, I felt at home.

School children waited in a line with their minders to go in and have a big adventure. It brought to mind field trips of my youth, and how exciting it felt to be somewhere new as a group - wild, free, and out of the classroom! 

Waiting on a friend

this must be the place

During our outing, I spied some handmade dollhouse furniture in the window of a charity shop in Morningside. I exclaimed when I saw it and had that instant rush of being pretty sure that I needed it in my life. My palms tingled - the same way they do when I see art that I resonate with - that "got to have it" energy flooded my system, worried someone might beat me to it. But it was doll house furniture... Did I really need it... What would I do with it? Why did I love it so much and what did it really represent?

I took a picture of it in the window and looked at the picture the whole time we were browsing inside. Never one to make a rash decision, we left the shop to look at a few others nearby, but I was distracted, still itchy and worried someone might get it. We walked back up the street and looked in at it one more time, and the tears came. I had to have it. It didn't matter if it didn't make sense; it made sense to me. It represented something important to me - it reminded me of home, my mother, and my brothers. It reminded me of the dollhouses and the furniture that they made together late at night for me after my mom had worked all day. It reminded me of all the love and care that goes into the making. It deserved a good home that would understand and love it the right way. I needed my mother to see it and to know that I was thinking of her.

When I walked in to buy it, the relief was immediate. The shop volunteer called out for an assistant to come and retrieve the pieces from the window. I caught the eye of a man who smiled at me knowingly regarding the handcrafted treasure I would be taking home. I was excited to unveil it to my mother over a video call a couple of hours later. She understood and appreciated it just like I did. It was worth every penny.

On Wednesday and Thursday, I was busily back at work, but rest assured, the small furniture was set up nearby so I could steal glances at it.

I am thankful for the moments of joy and the crashing waves of sadness. I am grateful that I feel big emotions and that I have friends and trees that I can share them with. I am grateful for the family that created me and shaped the things I value.

Here’s to the things that bring us joy and tears. Until next week, keep fighting for all your small furniture moments.

My favourite place

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

I went to my favourite place in Edinburgh, Warriston Cemetery. This was a monumental day (no pun intended). Something shifted this week. I sat on a bench and looked over the cemetery and felt joy. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, everything was fresh, verdant, and overgrown. Perfectly disheveled and comforting, the sun was glorious and I felt reborn. Suddenly, I had ideas, goals, dreams, and most importantly some structure and support. 

You can read next week's post here.

The lightness

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

The weather was beautiful even while the politics of the world are horrid and my personal grief remains, so I try to get out in it as much as possible. Spring in Edinburgh is spectacular and feels well deserved, the lightness makes everyone a bit more friendly. 

I continue to draw some, investing in new materials (thanks to a dear friend sending me a gift certificate for my birthday). I buy 5 erasers among a few other things and this makes me laugh. In April I began working more hours with the Scottish Artists Union.

My dear friend Peikko from Finland arrives midweek and spends a few nights with me. What a joy to have her near. We laugh as we talk about the dark stuff of life and we go see art and enjoy the gorgeous Edinburgh weather.

Peikko

We both enjoyed Portia Zvavahera's exhibition at Fruitmarket Gallery. I must say this is probably the best painting exhibition I have seen at Fruitmarket. We had plenty to discuss and resonate with while surrounded by the colourful and meaningful large scale works. I could feel each and every one of them. 

Copyright Portia Zvavahera

Friends really do make the world go around. Haste ye back, Peikko!

You can read next week's post here.

My heart lives in two places

What a difference a few days make. 

I have on my cosy jumper while sitting under a blanket with the lamps turned on. It will be dark within 30 minutes. This can only mean one thing... I am back in bonny Scotland sitting in my flat. The window is speckled with rain drops. I do have my big headphones on though just like the last time I wrote, but the music has changed. I decided to listen to an old favourite on repeat. 

Thanks to everyone who read my last three blog posts written in Arkansas. If you missed them the first time here they are again. 

October 11th https://meganchapman.blogspot.com/2024/10/the-true-liminal-space-and-comfort-of.html

October 18th https://meganchapman.blogspot.com/2024/10/i-see-you-you-see-me-we-are-here.html

October 25th https://meganchapman.blogspot.com/2024/10/i-am-of-leaves-i-am-of-trees-i-am-of.html

Let's pick up where we left off, in the last few days I was with my parents, I did various projects around their house, enjoyed the sun and warmth as much as I could, did a bit of work, and ran some errands and just spent time with them. On Sunday, a dear family friend came to visit us with some lovely baked goods - we caught up on the weirdness of life around the table. Later that day, my mother and I enjoyed Fiber Fest down the road at Ozark Folkways. Again, I spontaneously ran into a couple of people I knew there and it was a delight.

On Monday, we took family photos against the orange backdrop of the maples and I said a tearful goodbye to my dad before I took my mom to an appointment in town. Afterwards we ran some errands together, where I ran into yet another person I was happy to see for a quick catch up over a shopping cart.

Afterwards, my mom and I had a mediocre but funny lunch, saw another dear friend for a bonus spontaneous visit, ran another errand, and then I was dropped off where I started, at the old house in town. I hugged my mother goodbye and she was on her way back to Winslow.

I organised my belongings, and then took my dear friend out for a delicious dinner at one of my favourite old spots - Thep Thai (it's still good Barbara - get the Pad Kee Mao with Tofu #35). On the way back I asked my pal to stop so I could take a photo of a dreamy Cadillac at dusk in the parking lot of the old muffler shop. Magic!

Once again at the old house, I just had a bit more organising to do before it was off to sleep. The next day would see the long journey back to Scotland that would start Tuesday morning Arkansas time and end Wednesday morning in Edinburgh. Three planes back and this time no missed connections. I even had time to enjoy the Prince store in Minneapolis - I saw one of his guitars and his hand written song notes. I was quite the fan back in the day and if you recall 1999 was mentioned in the blog post prior to this one, so again - there are no accidents.

After sitting next to a MAGA bro with some weird ideas on the first flight, I was rewarded on the next two with no one sitting next to me. On the overnight airbus, I was sat on the aisle at the end of a row of four, in the middle of the plane. The dutchman at the other end and I shared air high fives as no one was seated in the two middle seats between us. Yes! I love these spontaneous joyful interactions with strangers. I settled in and ate more delicious KLM food while watching a film, listening to music, and sleeping. Smooth as vegan butter. 

Later, I watched from the window on the last flight as Edinburgh came into view - a calm joy washed over me. I love making that bank over the Firth of Forth. I eased through the border with my U.K. passport, picked up my bag, and ordered a chai. Thanks to the insistence of my parents, I got a taxi back home. 

I enjoyed the banter with the taxi driver as we drove in the sideways morning light. Once dropped off, I rolled my suitcase into my garden and heard the familiar wail of the stray cat (wee bear as he is now known) that I have been feeding for over a year. All was well. My pals had been looking after him while I was away (thanks Alice, Ever, and Eleanor - it takes a village to feed a stray cat). Besides the hungry cat, fresh flowers greeted me along with a card once inside. My people are the best people. 

It was all still here. My heart lives in two places. 

I took a nap, a shower, a walk to visit my Scottish friend tree, and then I jumped into work meetings and again all was well. 

I dedicate this post and the previous three travel posts again to my communities near and far and to all the people who make this world a beautiful and kind place. Thank you. 

Oh, and to music - I dedicate most things to music! 

The album I listened to while flying

Dedication

 

Thank you. 

You bloom in spring

There is joy to be found in a good pencil and even more joy to be found in just the right paper. Spring is here. Thank you for being here. Don't give up.