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. 

Capture the light

Morning Sun 1952 - painting Edward Hopper

I am stuck here wordless. 

I was videoless this week as well. 

After last week's activity comes this week's pause, this week's work, and this week's riding of the wave.

But there is a beam of sunshine on my hands and there is music in the air. I had a nice lunch and good snacks. I am wearing a new (to me) crisp white oversized button-up shirt from a charity shop. I can see clouds moving quickly from my window. I have packages coming my way and a stray cat who visits me. 

It's not bad or good - it's just life. 

When we look at a painting by Hopper we don't feel too bad about things. We don't judge the space in the room or the lone woman. We like the feeling. We celebrate it. Perhaps we can celebrate those days in real life too. Or just soak up the space, the light, the feeling. Celebrate is too strong. We can just be in the space without judgment and without wanting to move on too fast. 

Autumn is good for this, the need for hibernation is starting to filter in around the edges. It's okay to put on your shoes and go for a walk or just sit still and capture the light. 

Until next week, keep fighting and then take a nap. And if you live in Scotland sign this petition.

Thank you.  

Autumn is for dancing

A Closer Look: September 2023

Well hello, my beautiful readers,

It's Friday and I have had two cups of coffee and the sky is featureless and grey. I am listening to a fantastic old song on repeat (but of course). Later, I will walk over to the studio and hang out with my fellow artists in our exhibition, A Closer Look. You will know from previous blogs and social media posts that our show is ending on Saturday the 23rd at 5 p.m. So if you are a local reading this and even thinking about how you might like to see it in person - just get up and go (my blog can wait).

Oh, Autumn, I am mostly enjoying your rain, wind, grey, your dappled light through leaves still green but also turning yellow and falling. I am still jazzed about your autumn energy and of course the return to my beloved real coffee. It just tastes better in the fall.

I am not painting right now but I am working, learning, and dancing. Loads of dancing to the fantastic old songs. 

Autumn is for returning to our homes within.

I dreamt of a painting last night, a new painting that I might paint. A whole idea for a series in a dream. I love that when it happens - it is a rare gift.

So on that note, I will share one more promo video of the exhibition and get ready to go. Thank you for being here and for your support. Keep fighting.

The same old things

I don't want to talk about the same old things. 

I don't want to think about the same old things. 

I don't want to make the same old things. 

I just want to lose myself in the light. 

Oh and this is happening soon...

Until next week, go outside if you can.

Find inspiration (whatever that is)

As I write, I see the neighbour's sheets billowing in the wind as they hang on the line to dry. 

I went for an hour-long walk today - nowhere fancy just the usual paths. I didn't listen to music, just the wind in the trees and the birds, footsteps and breath. I felt the coolness in the air, watched over the ferns growing in an old wall and the dappled light filtering down into the old railway path. 

I have been down lately and my foundation, askew. 

So it's time to build the foundation back up, slowly, mindfully. Walking alone in nature is one way I can do this and as autumn approaches yet again, walking is a proven and tested remedy to the extra darkness that will come soon enough. 

I have been hard-pressed to find inspiration (whatever that is) and that makes it harder to create anything. 

So, I am taking creating anything off the table for now. My new goal (thanks to a friend) is to just make marks for a while each day. Inspiration is really a habit and so many of our habits have been challenged. I am no different. So I set a timer for 15 minutes and made marks and enjoyed it enough that I set the timer for another 15 and made more marks and then I went for my walk. And this is how I will return to something that I can depend on. I'll walk and make marks. 

The Abstractionistas have a couple of exhibitions planned for October and November and we are excited. But more on that next week.

For now, make marks, walk, rebuild (again). 

Keep fighting.

The work of Gregory Crewdson

Untitled ©2006 Gregory Crewdson
from the collection of the Nelson-Atkins Museum, Kansas City.

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One my favorite photographers.
To see his work in person is a whole new experience.