Living on the fault line

A new painting from this week

I can feel the sun as it shines on my legs, the doors are open onto the yard of the studio on this, the third week of my lucky artist's residency. It's been raining like cats and dogs and angry ones at that, with the weather being more like Arkansas than Scotland this past week.

I am listening to REM's album Murmer as this place reminds me of it and takes me back again to my youthful summers spent dreaming of somewhere else. I watch the swallows dart in and around as the buddleia sprouts from the corners of the slate roof. Faded blue and green painted arched wooden doors come into view as this morning's rain puddles reflect the light.

I sit and write and breathe and feel content even when the world is going to shit. This morning I cried and then meditated (some call it prayer) for the children in cages and now the new ones left without parents in Mississippi. I know my meditations can't help them and I cry over the trauma that they will be left with. I am half a world away, sitting in the sun thinking about institutional racism and I am thinking about painting. I can think about both and I can choose to think about one more than the other because of my white privilege. This troubles me but not like it troubles those without this skin.

In my privileged world, I am learning to be okay with being happy and sad, civil and angry, content and yet aware of the world and its injustice. I wade into these grey murky waters, this muddled way of being, the dark and light within and the imperfection and humanity of us all.

I walk each step learning that nothing has to be "good" or "perfect" and I keep painting.

Living on the fault line

If you missed Tuesday's Studio Video Visit, you can see it again here.
Until next week, keep fighting.

May all beings have happiness and the causes of happiness.
May all beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
May all beings rejoice in the wellbeing of others
May all beings live in peace, free from greed and hatred.

Consider making a donation to the Mississippi Immigrants Rights Alliance. "MIRA envisions a Mississippi that supports, protects, and welcomes immigrants from across the globe working hand-in-hand to create a thriving community called home." If you donate directly to them they have access to the money quickly so they can help these families hit hardest by the latest ICE raids. Donate here.

Thank you. 

Something real and true, aged and worn

It is week two of my artist's residency. I am sitting outside the studio door listening to music and the sounds of the traffic on the road just outside the gate as I type this. This week went by so fast. I painted Monday, laying the grounds/underpaintings for two new 16x20"/41x51cm pieces. I hadn't painted on that sized canvas in a while and I really enjoyed it. On Tuesday, I finished those two pieces off and filmed my Tuesday Studio Video Visit. If you missed it, here it is again. I show you the progress of the space and the series of works.



I took a few phone shots of my work and space as well. Here are the two pieces I completed this week. I am especially pleased with the first piece. You can see the whole dark series as it is progressing here.

On Wednesday, I spent time in the studio, writing rather than painting, just getting some of my ideas clear. I enjoyed spending time in the space, getting used to the light, the birds, butterflies, and outside sounds. A change in scenery and routine are so beneficial. Yesterday, I stayed at home, waiting for deliveries. And today, I was back in the studio, with my massive roll of canvas that had arrived. Who knows what will happen with it. I need to set up a large smooth painting wall before I can really go big. I always paint on pre-stretched canvas as well, so this will present a fun challenge. I am just looking to experiment and explore and that is a relief. To simply work for the sake of it, to be excited and inspired is a gift, as is this space.

I took this photo of the canvas roll in my studio today - I love it. I love the feeling the photo evokes. The old walls, the sculptural roll of canvas, the possibilities. What a thrill.

I cut off a good-sized piece and stapled it to a low long part of the wall and started a large painting today. Another ground/underpainting. Something for me to react against in my next session. I will probably use some of this canvas for my scroll series as well, it's slightly odd canvas but like everything else, I like it's slightly strange qualities. It fits the space, the time and my attitude of exploration and openness.

There is something about this place tucked away behind the gate - the old stables are filled with nothing but possibility. I can make something here, something rough and dirty - something real and true, aged and worn. My heart is wrapped in the dust of the past. I imagined this type of place when I was a teenager while sitting and smoking under the old railroad bridge back home. With music in my ears, old beer cans at my feet, surrounded by graffiti, I watched for the slow-moving freight trains. It was poetic, nostalgic, and a dream of my own creation with every new song. I am grateful to be here again. 

It's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)

What a difference a few days make... Thanks to everyone who read my studio blog (posted this Monday for last Friday). I really appreciate the comments and private messages - I still owe a couple of you replies. Thank you for reading and for your concern, suggestions, and support. You are beautiful people and artists that give and give and give. I see you.

So... I spent most of the day on Monday writing that blog and I felt much better afterward. Thanks to some of the feedback I received, I was planning to take it easy for a spell and spend some time on the wee beach across from the house after I filmed the Tuesday Studio Video Visit. I was getting ready to head out to my studio at the Drill Hall with every intention of filming from the 25th Anniversary exhibition there, but then something else happened. 

I was invited to pop by a fellow artist's studio and have a wee cuppa and a blether. I thought that sounded grand, so off I went, putting my plans for the day on the back burner. I had just purchased a lovely piece of work by this artist about 2 weeks prior. That is when we met for the first time and I was looking forward to saying hello and getting to know this artist better. As luck would have it, her studio was just down the road - a few minutes walk. I had passed the area many times before without notice due to a large gate, this time I entered through a wee door and into a fabulous old complex of stables built around the 1840s. It was a hot and sunny morning and all the doors were open to allow the old space some sun and air. I met my new friend and her beauty of a dog and was shown around the charming place before we stopped for our coffee chat. I exclaimed as we entered every room -excited and inspired at once. Ferns growing in a pocket of damp, the old cobbled floors, and ivy trailing through the ceiling in parts made the place feel like a country dream. The curved rock wall and solid old beauty just made my heart sing. As I think you know, I love the old crumbling things and have wanted for a long time to stage an exhibition in a space like this. Possibilities were screaming out from every corner with photos to be taken, art to be made, and secrets lost to history to be heard anew. But, I was just there for coffee and was happy that my new friend had such an inspiring place to make her art. 

We chatted in the sun and at some point, she asked if I would like to sketch in the courtyard. Very generous and kind, she had read my last blog. Perhaps a change of scenery would help. I already felt more inspired just by walking through the place. There was one room in particular that jumped out at me, and somehow I asked if I might be able to paint in there sometime. I was thinking for a day or two... she was keen on having me work there for longer than that. In fact, on the spot, she gave me a big broom, dustpan, coveralls, bin bags, and a bucket of soapy water. A plan was hatched! I spent the rest of the day there sweeping until I had blisters on my hands - propelled by her generosity, the wonder of the place, and a head full of possibility. As I was sweeping, I found the word "freedom" on the floor. 

I filmed my Tuesday Studio Video Visit from the space, red-faced and shocked with joy. 

On Wednesday morning, I was given my own key - putting it on my keyring felt important. I am thinking of this opportunity as an artist residency of sorts to help me gain a new perspective and to focus differently on my work. I have wanted to paint larger for quite a while and this space will allow me to explore the possibilities. I went to my studio at the out of the blue and packed up some essentials - paint, charcoal, paper, brushes, canvases, and called a pal to help me transport it. I also ordered a couple of large canvas/twill drop cloths to protect the old floor and a 5x33ft. roll of primed canvas! I spent the rest of Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning sorting things out and by the end of Thursday I had a completed a painting from my new dark series and worked on several small book works. 

Newly completed painting

Today, I worked on another dark series piece. I, of course, love everything about this experience - how it came about, the generosity, vulnerability, and trust involved. I am thankful for this more than you can know and I am excited to see what comes from this time.

In March I wrote these words, "you'll find me standing against the decaying and water-damaged walls of abandoned houses listening." Well, that's where you'll find me...

With gratitude from my heart to yours, keep fighting and keep giving. Beauty is where you find it. Thank you.