lessons in abstraction ...

Before you speak consider: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it an improvement over silence?

- Swami Kripalu 

 I am not a quiet person and rarely am I silent. But these past few months I have found my mouth starting to open or my fingers on the keyboard and then suddenly poof! I sit back and sink back into my thoughts, my daydream, my internal monologue.

I feel rudderless, which is not unusual for me in the summer months. Heat and I have never coexisted happily together and the lack of structure that happens when school is on break fuels my dazed meandering. I think this is okay, this is natural, this is how I spiral through my life learning, testing, integrating, evolving. The process of feeding my roots isn't flashy, isn't a grand gesture but quiet and slow moving. Often I don't even realize this is what I am doing ... this nourishing my heart and soul. 

 

It is getting up every morning early before the temperature rises and spending time in my garden in prayer. Connecting with the life around me and which I am a part of and feeding gratitude, feeding reverence and joy.

It is trying on new ways of creating, remembering play and curiosity are core values for how I wish to show up in this life. With that in mind, I signed up for a class on abstraction by Wendy Brightbill enticingly called Letting Go: An Exploration of Abstract Painting offered through Jeanne Oliver's wonderful platform for online art classes. (Seriously, if art videos are your kind of porn, the offerings on this site abound with hours of video content; artworks being birthed before my eyes always leaves me breathless and eager for more!) 

I figured my lack of coherent thoughts, ideas, projects is a perfect state in which to steep myself in abstract painting, right?  The more I thought about it, the more abstraction seemed perfect for me as my life right now feels diffused, random, and open to multiple interpretations.

I have quickly discovered the fly in the ointment ... I am more grounded than I had previously understood. Now, to be fair, I have only a handful of painting sessions under my belt and quality of ease in Ms. Brightbill's creations (let go! play with colors, shapes, patterns and  have fun!) is definitely the result of much practice, more practice and heaping doses of practice and commitment to this process. 

But what draws me into deep engagement is examining the patterning in the feathers of a hawk's wing or the subtly of colors in a snowy owl's plumage.  While I admire the variety, the beauty, the poetic display of colors, lines, and forms in an abstract piece ultimately my love is for art that assists me in opening wide my eyes to life around me rather than life within me. What fascinates me is the natural world around me and understanding myself within that creative pattern and play. 

Oh, I will keep on with abstraction. I know there is something there for me to learn and use. And the practice is not wasted as I am crafting cards out of my experiments. 

On this path effort never goes to waste, and there is no failure. Even a little effort toward spiritual awareness will protect you from the greatest fear. 

Bhagavad Gita 2:40, translation by Eknath Easwaran)

It comes back to intention, always. What drives me to pick up my pencil or paintbrush and hazhard to create chaotic messes? Lovely images are nice, they can be inspiring and uplifting but that will not sustain me through the frustrations of quieting my monkey mind and surrendering to the process of discovery and creating. What does keep me returning are the aha moments of seeing with my heart and understanding in my gut and in my bones.  

Trying on abstraction, I realize is my true passion and gift: beholding, understanding and celebrating the artistry of mama Earth and her infinitely inventive creations. Abstraction could offer me a process to express  that wonderment in ways that bypass representation. I don't know. I may not get there. But rather than focus upon it as a goal, I embrace my attempts as yet another way I can meander into new places of knowing, connection and wonder.

I think it's so foolish for people to want to be happy. Happy is so momentary -- you're happy for an instant and then you start thinking again. Interest is the most important thing in life; happiness is temporary, but interest is continuous.

I can't live where I want to, I can't go where I want to go, I can't do what I want to, I can't even say what I want to. I decided I was a very stupid fool not to at least paint as I wanted to.

- Georgia O'Keeffe 

[I recently was contacted by an online art education and image database resource, Artsy, and asked to introduce their site here for interested readers. Having worked for over a decade as a Slide Librarian, I can truly appreciate the mission of Artsy: "We strive to make all of the world's art accessible to anyone online." In addition to a growing database of artwork, there are articles, exhibition listings, suggested contemporary artists based upon your search and other educational resources which make browsing the site a wonderful down the rabbit hole experience for any art lover.  Seeking some creative juice, I landed on their Georgia O'Keeffe page and from there discovered a painter new and very relevant to me, Eleanor Hubbard. Happy inspiration hunting!]

 

grounding (spring fever & link love)

It's like a switch was flipped and suddenly, it feels like Spring is goosing Winter to get out of the way. Temperatures shifted from single digits to mid-sixties in days and right now strong winds put me in mind of Van Gogh's mistral or "the devil" as he referred to it and its challenges to his working outside. (He resorted to  lashing his easel down: "My easel was fixed in the ground with iron pegs, a method that I recommend to you. You shove the feet of the easel in and then you push a 50-centimeter-long iron peg in beside them. You tie everything together with ropes; that way you can work in the wind.")

In addition to the winds disrupting everything and everyone (I was awoken in the middle of the night by the rattling and blowing) there is the matter of mud. Everywhere.

So besides finding it difficult to think or focus  it is also impossible to move!  

This is the time of year (any period of transition is tricky) when I lean into practice to help carry me forward. I've been neglecting this space because I am consumed by another. Year after year I seem to forget that running an online offering is hard work. I have to show up daily, pay attention to what is happening, think and write. But it is the very best way for me to get unstuck. 

Taking action, applying effort and exercising discipline ... it is what the Yogis call Tapas which translates as"heat" or "fiery disciplines that burn away impurities."  Tapas is balanced by introspection and surrender ... applying that discipline towards self understanding, development and growth.

My discipline these days centers upon study. Or rather, curiosity. (If you haven't watch it yet, this talk by Elizabeth Gilbert on living a life driven by curiosity speaks to the multi-passionate soul.)  My focus this year is upon learning new techniques and  ways of working with favorite mediums (watercolors, drawing, pen and ink, mixed media) which afford me a broader creative vocabulary. I am loving these online courses:

 Scribble Art which is way harder than it sounds! I have a long way to go in terms of really working with shading and creating a wider range of values using the scribble to express volume and the sense of an object in space. Being loose and making meaningful marks takes loads of practice.

Then there is this course on watercolor and mixed media called Creative Girl: Land of Light and Shadows.  

I am eyeballing a few more (but not until I finish what I have started!) including Reflections: An Art Journaling Workshop  (this bit caught my eye:
"unraveling your own story and creating authentic art that only you can tell") and All Creatures Small and Lovely (hello? Watercolor AND animals?!)

Not that I am lacking in things to keep my head and heart busy. There is a pile of books by my bedside. Currently immersed in Dreaming the Eagle by Manda Scott, the first book in her trilogy on the Celtic Warrior Queen Boudica.  The Tao of Equus: A Woman's Journey of Healing and Transformation through the Way of the Horse was recommended to me by several wise friends. And then I won this new title The Other Side of the River by Eila Carrico which I've started and realize is a book to be slowly savored and enjoyed. 

Oh, and then there is this fun and insightful course on developing a personal approach towards working with and interpreting the Tarot ... which had me adding to my Tarot collection with these lovely cards (The Anna K Tarot)

It seems staying stuck may not be in the cards for me ... as long as I find my footing with all this creative study and keep moving forward in practice. Action grounded by consistency and regularity is what supports and anchors me when both the winds and the mud threaten to upend me.

  
Meanwhile, fundraising for the therapy horses of Hetra.org continues. To date, my creative communities both online and at home have rallied in support and close to $800 has been raised for Team Star.  It is pimping I do willingly as the horses deserve every dollar, every oat for the incredible work they do week in and week out.

 

happiness is ...

Finding my way back ...

Appreciative for the detour, but glad to making my way out of the woods' darkness  ...

I am grateful for the lessons and inspiration of Katherine Dunn, especially her offering Capturing the Essence. One lesson there was to explore a memory of loss, and painting the passing of my mother has been an important stage in my grief.  I painted the above piece with her wearing her Cowgirl garb.  My sense - my hope? - is that she is reconnecting with the parts of herself lost over the years.  As she is reunited with her loved ones, I envision her being reunited with her full self.  I can't help but think of the lyrics Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars ... (HERE is an amazing cover by an 8 year-old Norwegian singer)

I finally made my way back to this piece ... 

 

My study of Van Gogh's portrait of the Postmaster Roulin

Looking forward to continuing with Studying Under the Masters ... it took me 2 months to work through week one's content and there are six weeks total.  So I have months of painting play to look forward to as Winter's cold embrace settles in for a stay. 

Happiness is:  a paint brush and ideas/emotions I am ready to explore

quiet times?

My summer days just keep on rolling.  The husband will be out of town for work, so needed was a lesson in running the riding lawn mower.  Alas, no photos of what was akin to Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (and probably more appropriate for America's Funniest Home Videos - did you know you can make a riding mower buck like a bronco?  Well, I did!)

Then there was my day as a chaperone for Cowgirl's play date with her BFF, who happens to be a boy and sadly is moving out of state come next week.  So it was their last day together and we did it in style, beginning with fine dining at Taco Bell. (It is a real challenge to eat one's burrito and not be listening to the conversation which was baffling anyway - something about Mind Craft?  Diamond armor being harder than gold but not as strong as obsidian - duh! Any reaction on my part elicited fury from Cowgirl "Mommmmm!  Stop listening!) Palate cleanser of some Wii Mario Cart, followed bya movie and then (yes, more!) the Aquatic center.  I let two 8-year-olds pressure me into the platform waterslide.  Oh yeah, this 50-year-old screamed her entire way down (no surprise to you, eh Diana?)  but at least I kept my legs together and didn't go bottom up, especially since my swimsuit wedged all up around - or is that in? - my bum. (But I went three times and only screamed twice.  I let Cowgirl know I was very proud of myself.)

No photos of that event either. 

But amid the craziness I am snatching bits of quiet time for myself.  It has been an unusually mild summer here, so whenever I can I head outside with my notebooks and pencils and paints which is my way of meditating these days.

Amazing what we discover when we give ourselves time to look and see and receive.

 
My yoga teacher once said "A little bit of practice is freedom from fear."  My practice is to show up on a daily basis for my life.  I also read  - in some magazine at the dentist's office which is proof wisdom can be found anywhere, anytime - that we tend to overestimate what we can accomplish in a day and underestimate the results  of small actions performed regularly.

So I am practicing regularly in whatever form practice chooses to assume each day and trusting those efforts will meld together some kind of wonderful and certainly crazy colorful result.  

Or a manifestation of magical crop circles/ley lines in my yard, reminding me that I am always in exactly my right place for growth and discovery.  Time to paint ...

How is your summer rolling?

reframing "significant"

I found myself writing to some friends:

Life inside a mix master blender: the Universe hits puree randomly and unexpectedly.  Such is my life! 

I admit, I foolishly imagined this summer - and my time unencumbered by a day job - as a fertile period of creative work bursting the seams of my life.  Today I realized I needed to let go of the notion that any significant work would take place while home with husband and child underfoot (the dog at least sleeps quietly and comfortingly at my feet.)

But maybe my attitude is wrong; perhaps a chance of perspective is all that is required.  Summer time is crazy with spontaneity: lady bugs hatching, fire flies beckoning, swimming pools, bike rides and patio time all vying for attention.  Much of significance is happening, just not in the manner that I had expected which is par for the course and far more exciting, enlightening and nourishing when I can remember to adopt a more spacious attitude.  

One thing that keeps me riding the waves of my life is the structure of practice.  It is a huge concept for me.  It began with my yoga practice and has spilled out into life off the mat.  It is how I connect with growth, learning, change and insight.  Practice frames my relationship with living:  I want to be learning, expanding, connecting and embracing my life and I see all my action as effort expended towards that intention.  I don't think it is so much about Practice make Perfect; I think it is Practice makes me more attention and aware.  Practice makes me more flexible, and not just bendy in body but in mind, attitude, heart and soul.

I am working on an offering to share this fall entitled The Gift of Practice: Nurturing & Nourishing Creativity. I am curious to delve into the role of practice in creative expression and a significant part of what I want to explore is the way practice is experienced by other creatives in various expressive forms. (There is significant again!) Of course my hidden agenda is to strengthen my own unique expression of creative practice!

I am excited that one of my favorite creative lights -  mentor, sister, guide and friend - Pixie Campbell has created an online version of her Shamanic Painting Program to launch July 29.  Visual Quest is a five week course running through August 31 although course content will remain available until March 20, 2014 (yeah!) so while it is perfectly timed to coincide with the fiery energy of summer, inspiration and action, there will be plenty of time to snuggle in with the material and squeeze all the juicy goodness that Pixie always provides in any of her programs.

Visual Quest is a five-week online art workshop that integrates
the creative process with profound spiritual discovery
and healing through the unique, holistic and shamanic approach
developed by artist and modern medicine woman,
Pixie Campbell.

Imagine a painting class that goes far beyond teaching mere
technique, delving into the inner realms of the psyche to
forge powerful links between you and the canvas—and then
imagine that intuitive richness spilling out to transform and
enhance every aspect of your life. This wild, transcendent
creativity is at the heart of Visual Quest. Utilizing the millennia-
old practice of shamanism, Pixie will guide you on a journey
into your deepest Self, enabling you to connect with the
Source of Creation within you, and interpret it artistically.

Visual Quest is a sacred, nurturing space where you can
meet yourself—and be met—where you are right now. It is
authentic growth and revelation, the convergence of passion,
art, and the divine feminine. Allow Pixie to show you how to
access Nature’s symbolic teachings and gain a deeper understanding
of the song within you as you explore artistic
mediums and express your soul’s truth
 

Once again, the Universe shakes me up so I can see with fresh eyes the gifts and opportunities extended towards me.  I asked to do significant work and fertile ground appears. My brushes are ready, how about yours?  

 

Visual Quest: An Online Shamanic Painting Exploration from Pixie Campbell on Vimeo.

heart mantra

  

 

What words do you need to hear today?

Can you offer them to yourself?

♥

unfamiliar feeling ...

I've been feeling odd lately ... strangely contented, my days more or less puttering along at a comfort pace with a blanket of ease warming all that I do.  Recognizing there have been projects long on hold - stacks of paintings started and now marinating; files in blurb and shutterfly accounts awaiting my attention; art journals in progress (one for Cowgirl that has languished for over a year now) - all that sits piled around the edges of my awareness and still I feel relaxed and at peace with the status quo.

Shifting gears doesn't feel likely at the moment.  I've been enjoying what are for me the leisurely arts - knitting, sewing, slapping bits torn from magazines and catalogs into my Smash journal. Perhaps I am connecting with a previous life as an educated lady awaiting my turn for the grand tour? (oh, how I wish!) 

one sleeve still to go ...

 

The continued cold weather actually excites me because I keep bookmarking new knitting projects while busily finishing up current ones.  There is only so much wool one person can wear, but I am determined to push the envelope on that front.  Possibilities ... ah yes, my word for 2013 ... possibilities and enticements keep popping up in front of me.  

In the spirit of encouraging more cultured practices, Cowgirl has been keeping up some penpal activities and so I made her this pouch to store the mail bounty that comes her way.  

 

I made a second one for her buddy and have fabric awaiting a third creation (spoiler alert for one reader - shhhh ... don't spill the beans!) 

the directions for these "satchels" came from the book Handmade Home

 Meanwhile, we've (well, okay, me) have begun what I hope will become a regular practice: a family journal.  

In years past Cowgirl and I would spend long drives home discussing our top 5 or 10 moments from our days.  Low or challenging moments where also shared and it was a lovely way to capture the moments that might otherwise slip away.  Now Cowgirl's school is a mile away and the habit vanished.  Hence a journal which I intend to pull out after dinner and in it record the stories of our days.  The Husband has already predicted this will last a few weeks (he's seen all my journals scattered about) but he forgets my stubborn streak (I know, me?!) and determination to prove him wrong (hey, I will admit when I'm wrong ... when it happens ...)

Perhaps I will soon record in our journal a leisurely and luxurious painting session?  So far the only thing I've worked on in recent months is this piece attempting to capture the moment when our cat, Frida, left her body and flew (yes, I felt it!) into her next adventure.  

That was almost 4 years ago (her passing, not the painting), but the memory is vivid and I want to honor the teachings she shared with all of us about life, determination (no is not a possibility) and -  ah, yes! - contentment.  (Our previous dog, Bandit, has been nosing his way into my consciousness and perhaps his will be the next memorial?)

So that is where I am ... for the moment.  I know from experience that this place is the top of the wheel (much like reaching the top of a hill on a bike) and I am enjoying the coasting feeling which I know all too soon will hit a bottom and require mad pedaling for the hill up climb.

But by then, perhaps I will have a newly knitted shawl to comfort me as I go ...

I think the difference is maybe I'm busy doing and not indulging in excessive thinking or worrying.  Taking the compulsive navel-gazing out and leaving the fun in.  I am getting wiser in my old age? Or just tired and better able to let things go?

remember?

I seem to find myself drawn to revisiting the past as the school year draws to a close and summer plans begin to take shape.  As I shift through possible fun projects for more spacious days, this memory presented itself in response to this interview with Maya Donenfeld whose Story Scarves class I will be attending this coming fall at Squam.

still having lots of fun painting these colorful girls from Paint Your Story

Remember when adulthood hovered

an exciting castle in the air of our expectations?

I imagined it to be a magical transformation into something fuller,

more complete and self-contained

When I was a teen the rite of passage was a hippy denim skirt.

I took a pair of old levi’s

and painstakingly ripped out the inseams

each stitch another childhood worry released

and my teenage self liberated one golden thread at a time

from who I had been

who I no longer could bear to be

Harder though

was the reshaping something new

from stiff and worn denim,

floral print fabric used to fill in the gaps

pushing needle through dense layers - miles of hand sewing!

A thimble used when fingertips became sore

It was an act of determination to complete the thing

I remember the toll

but also the thrill

skinny girl legs stepping into maidenhood

adorned with Love’s lemon fresh

Bonnie Bell lips

Covergirl and

Dr.Scholl’s

New armor and allies

And I remember the surprise -

a floor length denim skirt being very heavy,

cumbersome

and hot to wear

I may had shed some childhood fears,

but I was unprepared for the weight of new ones

Still, I wore that skirt triumphantly,

my badge of adulthood

independence declared one painful stitch at a time.

 

 Happy summer dreaming. It's almost here ...

 

playtime ✻

 

On the last day of Flora Bowley's Bloom True workshop, she asked us to re-word a thought loop or critical chatter that may have been plaguing us during our painting process.  She suggests a similar practice in her new book Brave Intuitive Painting in the section titled Recreating Your Story. If every action has its ancestor in a thought, then I've been recreating a whole family of new thoughts -  new realities -  for myself.    Here is the freshened up speech I wrote while sitting on the lawn at the Chautauqua Institute and I've playing in my head every since: 

I joyfully and playfully embrace the unknown as an exciting adventure ...

filled with endless possibilities ...

 

 Today I pulled out all of my favorite art toys and played.  I made some lovely messes and met some new friends who have been patiently awaiting their time to shine on the page.

having The Best time in Mindy Lacefield's Paint Your Story ecourse

  I got paint up my arms, in my hair, and I even got paint on my toes ...

two layers of paint a la Flora-style ... more layers to come

After such undiluted fun, the only way to conclude this day was to honor the spirit of a   true Joy Warrior ...

 and enjoy a sonic fruit slushy with my favorite girl. 

 It was a very good day. 


After many years of following my heart, I now understand that the very act of pure expression does change the world.


It changes the world by changing each and every person who is brave enough to pick up a paintbrush, open themselves up to the unknown, and express themselves honestly and intuitively. It is through this kind of heartfelt expression that truths are revealed, lives transform, and new worlds are born. - Flora Bowley, Introduction, Brave Intuitive Painting

What new worlds lie waiting within your thoughts?  Do we dare to see what lies behind those doors?  Why would we ever say no?