In Process_4.2.15

 

This is a first in my series of "works in progress" with myself. A way to document and think about and share the process of painting. This work is an interesting piece. I started it actually with the large navy blue dark brush work about 2 years ago! It has been on my wall in my basement for that long just waiting and waiting to get worked on.

Last week, I went crazy with the patterned roller from The Painted House (Etsy shop)  which is so much fun to play with. And then my colors right now are out of the bottle copper, ochre, .......

This piece definitely has quite a bit to go but taking close ups of some of the work as it goes along is always a lot of fun. My favorite stages of a painting are these pre-middle-to-middle stages where layers are starting to overlap and play with each other. So much of this type of painting method relies on intuitive marks and the "accidental" or spontaneous, unplanned marks. It's a weird balance between initiating the layer but then knowing "when to stop!"

My favorite part of this painting too is that the paint just does what it wants too. The uncontrolled nature is what is exciting. You start the process but have no control of the final outcome. These drips and drops above exemplify the juiciness of this type of painting with lots of water (my background is watercolor). And of course you cannot deny the power of gravity with the drops dripping "down" because the piece is hanging on the wall. That seems pretty obvious, but nothing is "obvious" when it comes to painting. This is a decision I specifically made here. I could've not have drops, therefore not put that much water so it effectively drips down. I could've easily just put the whole thing on the ground and let the water "pool." So it is a deliberate decision, but how the water drips is out of my control! The middle right part of the painting is quite lovely now with the navy blue peeking through the copper drips as it's hard to tell which layer is which--this is quite intriguing. And as a viewer, that's all you want is to have the viewer stop and take a "double-take" because that's what's interesting to the eye.

TThis section you can see my brush strokes more distinctively because of the bright red, pink colors. But the same effect is also shown except you can tell that I've dipped into a couple different colors simultaneously with my large  brush and twirled it around in my hand to create "smeared" effect (especially in the middle with the red/hot pink turning into orange/copper.  There's a rhythm to this painting specifically as well. We shall see if it continues to the final look!

my favorite day

Today ended up being amazing. Another day where my 17-month old stayed home - yesterday was sick with some kind of stomach flu so we definitely took it easy. Today he felt way better but still stayed home to make sure. It ended up being a 77 degree, super squeaky sunny day, blue, cloudless sky. The first real warm sun of spring hinting of summer finally. I took Grant to our favorite park, Queeny, to walk the afternoon away. No schedule. No time commitments. No rush. All the time in the world. Grant immediately fell right asleep to the rhythm of the stroller and the birds chirping. Yummy quiet and solitude. I haven't felt this happy in months. My mind emptied and I finally am feeling the beginnings of a renewal, thawing my heart as well.

The past couple months have been a rollercoaster--a lot of hurt and pain caused by people closest to us. Closed doors have become a regular occurrence. And just in the prime of life where you feel kind of stagnant, the kind of questions unearthing major disturbances in your very core of the big why's - Why is this happening? Why now? What am I missing? Why the hurt? the confusion? How could I have seen this coming? (you never can of course). And how can those that you love hurt you and be so self-centered? (because we are all yearning for our happiness).

Today was bliss. Pure bliss. No work, no customers calling, no "must's," "should's" and "have to do's." No work fires to put out. No stress. No nothing but the luxury of the immediate moment, being grateful for the here and now. No worries but enjoying every precious moment with my little one in the bright sunshine.

I really, really needed this day. Definitely nostalgic in that I wish every day could be this laid back. Of course the response to this is that there's no way you'd appreciate it if every day was like this. But . . . you wonder, wouldn't I?

It truly is a walking meditation. All these ideas flood through me, the renewed inspired thought pours out, trickling, then streaming, then flooding me. But I am not overwhelmed yet with pure adulation for life again. That has slowly seeped out of me these past several months. I find it every day with my son, that has been my life-line. But I realize I have lost that special soul connection to life itself these past months. Lost a little faith in the Universe. Doubtful of Divine Love. These events lately hasn't left me destitute or devastated, but slowly emerging from a new awakening that either I slide into a depressive state, or grasp at these days to find renewal. Slowly re-evaluating my faith in Love, the Universe, and its abundance.

Today I can believe. And I thank the Universe for this precious day.

Carolyn Quartermaine

I recently discovered Carolyn Quartermaine, , an inspiring and talented British stylist and artist, and even though I realized I had recognized her gorgeous prints and fabrics in various home magazines, I didn't make the connection it her until over five years ago when working on my MFA thesis. She only has a couple books devoted to her work and it seems they are already out of print which is very frustrating. But I ended up finding a used copy of Carolyn Quartermaine Revealed by Kate Constable. The photographs are stunning and I love how the book is organized into her various practices: fabrics, paper, collage, color, painting, etc. When looking at her work I saw kindred spirit when it comes to process and attraction to the very act of painting and the materials of painting. Here are a few quotes from the book.

" . . . I always get a thrill when I first put my brush into the liquid and begin to paint. The process is so wonderful that hte actual result seems of little or no importance compared to the act of loading the brush with paint and moving it across the paper or fabric. Paint is so much about possibility, about creating worlds, about layering, texture, and surface. But mostly it is about that physical process of dipping your brush, or maybe, just your hands, into this pool of wet, dripping colour." (p. 101).

I've always been interested in painting on fabric and 5 years ago, I started painting on tablecloths bought at a local discount household store when in my MFA program. I have always loved to paint on chairs (like the chair collections in Restoration Hardware), Quartermaine paints on luxurious silks! And also paints beautiful chairs and finishes them, etc.

Quartermaine went through art school so her background is more of an "artist" than a traditional textile designer. Her approach is very art-based which also is very attractive to me about her work. But she moves so easily between art, design and even the "decorative" seamlessly, that it really doesn't matter to me the purpose of her work, it all has a fluidity and all about process that clearly evokes her love of color, texture, paint and layering. There is a delicate, soft texture to her work, it is careful but allows spontaneity and I can see that she admires the imperfect print or brushwork. It is much more careful then my own work (I just don't have that much patience!). But the watercolor look, the print and the experimentation with paint, ink and fabric is what has always attracted me to her work as an inspiration to my own.

"A good wall has the same spellbinding quality as a Twombly or a Rothko painting for me. I love the mottled marks, the mould, the flaking caused by pollution, the scratch marks of the graffiti. I am drawn to a feeling of time passing, of that feeling that paint has been built up over the years and then has been worn away again, either by chance, or by the weather, or by intent. What is revealed underneath the paint is as interesting as the texture of the paint that is left behind. I photograph walls like that endlessly. In fact, walking around Rome, I sometimes feel that I want to take the walls home and hang them in my apartment, like a painting." (p. 110-111).

You can definitely see the influences from Twombly and Rothko in her work (I'm obsessed with Twombly! I wrote my first MFA thesis on his work!). But the end of the quote struck me because I found I was drawn to these exquisite textures in Italy myself when I visited in 2009 (see a few of my photos). I mean, who isn't when they visit Rome? The inspiration is literally on every single wall in the ancient city.

PROCESS

"For [Quartermaine], the thrill comes in trying to controll the uncontrollable. All these paints behave differently. 'It is so exciting to have these jars and tubes of fabulous, intense colour around you. But what comes out of those jars of orange and blue or green is even more magical. The way the colours seep into each other, bleed into each other, is stunning. And you are always there watching, watching all the time, trying to control the wash of colour."' (p. 112).

"With paint, it's all about controlling accidents, knowing when to pull back and when to let the paint do what it wants to do." (p. 113).

I LOVE these quotes - putting into words exactly how I feel about the process of painting.

Here's a youtube video of an interview with Quartermaine.

Spring Collection 2015! Check me out on Pottery Barn.com

It's really fun, Pottery Barn has selected me for their Spring Collection - check me out!

feelings on time

Everytime I watch one of my favorite British tv series (Larkrise to Candleford is definitely one of my most favorite--I've literally watched the entire series at least 33 times or more!), I am overwhelmed with nostalgia. Living among a small community before the turn of the 20th century, yes life was much slower obviously then today (understatement). Yes, it's a tv show where there is conflict but it resolves. And life could have been harsh among the poorer folks who live in the tiny hamlet of Larkrise compared to the bustling little town of Candleford. But I find myself so torn. Where have those days gone when I was little and I could literally remember when I had nothing, absolutely nothing to do . . . and I got BORED. Remember that word? BORED. Amazing. Yes, I will tell my son someday that I grew up without digital phones, the internet, and special effects. I "remember" when all this phenomenal technology literally changed our lives. I lived through the dot com and where people actually would ask what is "www?" or email? What is that! And I remember when in 2003 Apple came out with the "mini" with black and white screens at first (I still have my original mini!) and all it did was play a list of songs . . . digitally!

It's so sad actually. My kid will not grow up so bored out of his mind that he has to figure out how to entertain himself. I remember days when I would be so bored I would literally just sit outside or stare out the window. I loved storms in the middle of the night and would wake up so excited when a wicked storm would thunder through our neighborhood like a train and watch the thrashing of the trees, bending to the will of powerful invisible wind whistling and rattling my window panes. It gave me a thrill to my bones to witness when I was little.

I would also skip an invitation to the movies to just lay in the middle of our living room when no one but myself was at home. And play my parents massive stereo (cause in the 90's we had massive speakers not small tiny things that hardly weight a pound!) full blast with my favorite classical/choral music, Henry V soundtrack by Patrick Doyle. Man did I love those powerful songs. If I ever felt low or depressed I would lay on the carpet floor and close my eyes and listen intently and also sing along when I felt like it! Then I would cry and cry, the emotions overwhelming me until I finally fell asleep exhausted.

I miss that time, literally. Time would pass slowly, patiently. Never frenzied and hectic. I truly did live in the moment. And I miss that so terribly it actually hurts in my gut. I hate how this past winter has was so hectic I hardly could breathe I felt the weird push and pull between the monotony of everyday life but how rapidly weeks would go by and I felt completely rushed all the time. . . "BEHIND" never catching up! Never!

Candleford is another favorite series of mine with Judi Dench and there would be scenes of letter-writing or reading for hours by candlelight. The time it took to make decisions was respected. Now yes, there were characters who loved each other for decades and finally made a "decision" to get married after years and years wasted. It was too much time. But the depiction of sitting with decisions, letting it percolate, meditate on the right and wrong and each time really trying to make the best decision (whatever that may be) was what the day was made of! An entire DAY or more perhaps, spent on making up one's mind about a particular issue or relationship problem, etc.

And that's definitely what I've felt this past Mercury Retrograde which was such a dousy for me. I felt major decisions taken out of my hands and made "overnight" has been one of the most frustrating processes of me to just sit back, sigh, let out all my immediate emotions over the matter, but settle into making the decision for myself. Time is such a weird mechanism in our lives - ESP our Western lives. We are slaves to the clock. Slaves. Envy those unique souls that can escape it.

And that's only one reason why I love my British tv series! I guess it's always good to be reminded of what was seemingly lost, to realize in that moment, you have always had it. Perhaps I should relish in my time spent even writing this post. Reflection is precious.

New beginnings: 3.11.15 - Process artwork

spring is here finally!

Today was exactly what I needed. The second day in a row here in St. Louis above 60 degrees. After a stretch of bitter cold for the past 5-6 weeks, obviously this is such a relief to know that spring is probably here - if not right around the corner. I was able to at least write in my journal for 15 minutes this afternoon and finally took my son on a walk at the local park. It's definiately not "beautiful" yet -- everything is still very brown with no promise of the new green peeking through the forests. The ponds still have ice frozen on them and the ground is extremely muddy and gray. BUt it didn't matter at all. Those few moments of reflection, space to think and try to gain a sense of centerness and newness. Spring . . . there's a reason why so many artists and musicians have been so inspired by this special season. New beginnings. Damn. New beginnings doesn't always bring this sweet, beauty of promise. Sometimes new beginnings are raw, gritty, vulnerable and scary.

Following a new year, it always feels like there is such optimistic, so much promise and expectation that this will be the best year of your life. I felt I needed that space to stop and reflect and I did. I realized, quite pessimistically, that last year was not great. Set aside the greatest achievement of my life (which is no small thing whatsoever!), the birth of my son and taking care of him in those precious first months of his life, everything else in my life was full of frustration, hurt and disappointment. I honestly felt realigning my thinking would help position me to embrace this coming year as "different."

Boy was I about to be rocked to my core just days after I thought I had hit some ground! In a matter of 2 weeks, my business aspirations, with one of my good friends that we had been "working on" for over 2 years, completely unraveled before my eyes. And I felt completely out of control the entire time--like I was on some roller-coaster and couldn't get off. My emotions overwhelmed me. It wasn't my decision - nothing had been my decision, I felt it was all her decision and her family's. It was extremely bewildering and I still am working through feeling hurt. But in this process--because it is a process--I am facing some core beliefs and weaknesses about myself that I have either ignored, or been in denial or perhaps did not see. And I am seeing myself face to face.

New beginnings. It sometimes is not pretty at all. Especially when you feel yourself most vulnerable. My husband, we have been together since we were 16 and we are facing another "new beginning" moment in our lives as well. Long talks and discussions between us over weeks and weeks, have peeled back many layers, revealing some truths but mostly shaking questions: are we still supposed to grow together? Is there enough love between us to get past these seemingly great obstacles to see what's more important about our lives? Or is there not? Do we feel like we missed out? Made the right choices? We are so different in our interests, can we grow older together and feel like we are still a part of each other's lives? Are we just together because we now have a son? Did we both "settle?"

Questions, questions, questions. I don't have answers at all right now. And that's ok. Right now, I just have these precious moments with my son to enjoy and a day like this - perhaps not a "perfect" day yet by any means--the breezes are still cool, the sun not warm enough, the scenery not pretty enough, still very much wintery. But the promise is there. I hold to that promise. And hope that I have the courage to become who I very much want to be.

new beginning

I hardly have any words to say what has happened over the past few days. (The aftermath of one hell of a Mercury Retrograde!!!). Your'e on a path, or you think you are on a path—you dream big, even huge sometimes and in your mind you can go to places you never dreamed of. But the reality is hard. You wait, wait, wait, wait and more waiting. You become bogged down by inertia, self-doubt and uber frustration. And you can stuff as many “positivisms” in your head to get you up out of the frustration but it pulls you back down in the muck—like black tar you can’t get rid of. And then after it all seems to be possibly put back in place and you have a high of “this is happening! this could happen! this could really be real - it feels great,”—suddenly there’s the last straw that broke the camel’s back and it completely crumbles, falls apart and unravels before your very eyes. And you think, “what the hell happened?" Over the past two years, one of my closest friends and I were trying to build a company together online. It was to be the foundation of a great partnership and it had a lot of high hopes. We envisioned big, then bigger, then even bigger until it became too scary. And it doesn’t wasn’t meant to be—at least right now in this form. And circumstances changed.

There are no hard feelings so to speak after this aftermath but we definitely both feel like we’ve gone through the ringer. I told my husband through tears of disbelief it’s like breaking up in a relationship! You plan and plan and plan your future together . . . and then one day without warning, one of the partner’s says this isn’t working and I’m done!

BUT. In the wake of a seeming crappy situation, the core ideas we shared are still gold. And if I can brush off the appearance of mud and wipe off and examine what I already know I have inside myself, I can see that this is just a realignment. The core ideas of our business was always to find a way to support a creative community and BE CREATIVE OURSELVES.

And after so much waiting and waiting and waiting on things to happen and get going, what has been crystal clear to me is that you can’t wait on anyone — YOU have to put your head down and DO THE WORK. YOURSELF. Rely on no one else but YOU. And if YOU have a passion, if YOU have a vision, if YOU have a feeling that you have a gift to give, then YOU have to DO IT. Step by step by step.

It seems SO freakin obvious. But you never learn until you go through it. I’m sick of waiting. I’m sick of waiting on other people who haven’t delivered and said they would and they never did. I’m scared to go out on my own. I loved the partnership and support. But this is awful wasting away thinking that you’ve done nothing and you feel like you have so much potential.

We both have learned a great deal — and most of it is what not to do, which is still extremely valuable. But now, with as little risk as possible, I start my own future one step at a time.

I’m a painter. I know I’m a painter, and I’m good at it. But I haven’t painted in almost 2 years since my son was born and efforts to start this business took priority. SO this blog post if of course for myself —get back in that studio and PAINT!! Find the time and paint! Even if it’s just 30 minutes at a time. And do the work. The work will pay off. The work will show promise and find opportunities. But it has to be the work otherwise you have nothing but ideas and dreams.

A new beginning.