Moving forward

The last couple of months have gone by so incredibly fast.

In mid August my website hit a couple of snags and this catalyst began a journey of introspection and change that I couldn’t have forecast, and don’t regret. What a domino effect it began.

I went to Willow Folk Festival and began a sequence of life-motions that built inertia, pushing now well into October. I saw a month ahead of me at that point that was solidly booked for every weekend with living history events, an art show, a website revamp, and several other obligations. Clearly, I over committed.

The first living history event was scheduled right after Labor Day. It was canceled due to covid concerns and for me, it was a blessing. It gave me a free weekend. Preparation for the next event, an art show, can take weeks – especially when you’re working full time and the time you can spend on it is nights and weekends. I leaned into final framing preparation for the art show.

By mid September I was setting up for the Greenwich Village art fair. It was a wonderful event and a first time for me doing an outdoor art fair like this in the town where I live. The audience, too, was a huge change since it was to the general public as opposed to the living history community that knew me. I saw such a variety of people from my various careers here in Rockford and felt like it was the perfect intersection.

So many people didn’t know I was an artist, or only remembered me in the graphic arts industry. Then there were those who only know me as a librarian. Amazing – and I even won an honorable mention ribbon and award for my body of work.

I didn’t get to rest on my laurels for long because within 4 days I was heading to Minnesota with my husband for a living history event he was contracted for. I had a great deal of fun there too but the speed and strain on this introvert for an extended period was difficult.

The evolution is now fully in motion. The new sales gallery is running online, things are unpacked and stowed, and I’m back into routines. The bottom line, however, is I hadn’t painted since the 2nd week in August when I was at the folk festival.

I’ve had people contact me for commissions that I haven’t been able to start and I have needed to let my emotional processing catch up with my schedule. Now my day work is settling back into a good pattern and knew I needed to sit down at the board again.

It feels good to once again be started down the path to a new adventure. Or perhaps not a new adventure, but a revitalization of my prescribed life path. I can’t predict where I’m going to go, or how I will evolve, but I am truly excited now at the prospect of the motion and what new discoveries they will afford.

While at Willow I enjoyed watching a man create huge soap bubbles that floated slowly over the camps of the musicians. True to my lifetime love of bubbles, I was both enamored and renewed at the magic of them. Today’s painting, close to being done perhaps, is a 20″ x 20″ oil on canvas of a “Bubble Rising”.

Join me if you will. I’m sure we will have great fun together.

Choosing your response to change.

Change is inevitable. Good or bad, it will occur. We rarely have the ability to deter the change but we may have the power to lessen the negative impact to some degree by our reaction to it. How it affects us longterm is most assuredly affected by choices we make.

We can either be agile enough to move with it like the colored leaf on the surface of a tumbling creek, or we can choose to be the rock and spend our energy holding fast against the water in a Scissorphean stance and let the water ravage us until we break or wear down. To stubbornly resist change is exhausting and relatively pointless.

I propose to you – decide which you will be before change is upon you. What if you choose to be the leaf? Choose to be agile and take the proactive, optimistic perspective before you land on the surface of the water? As that leaf, what if you choose instead to enjoy the breeze blowing you through the air? What if you choose to enjoy the perspective of the sun on your surroundings in an ever changing view as you fall? What if you enjoy the delightful change in temperature as you approach the water? What if you celebrate the fun and rapid movement once you’ve landed and you swirl away down the creek to new adventures and new beginnings?

The paintings that I’ve been doing lately have been reflections of my inner thought process – sitting and thinking about my next steps and my reactions to change. I have also been thinking of people that I know who live in a spirit of positive reaction. Living with an optimistic perspective has an absolutely evidentiary impact on our life; our reaction to change, our stress levels, our potential for happiness in the face of challenge, and our ability to spin our futures in a positive direction.

I am blessed to know many positive souls and am grateful for it.

The painting above is of a young woman that I admire. I have watched her grow into a most lovely woman, both inside and out, and her beauty comes from the joy that emanates from her face and is reflected in her smile. It is one of my strongest opinions that people are the most beautiful and/or handsome when they smile. That joy is a powerful force that affects both herself, and those around her. It can become a driving force that is cyclical and self escalating.

No, I don’t think she actually owns chickens but chickens somehow make me happy and make me feel a connection to simpler times. Thanks to my model, Hannah, for your infectious joy.

This painting is a 16″ x 20″ oil on canvas called, “Hannah’s Heart”.

Are you OK? Yes, I believe I am.

That’s a question that I would never again answer flippantly. If I have learned nothing else from the past year and a half it would be that no one can predict what will happen next, and speaking thoughtfully and truthfully has value beyond measure. It has been incredibly hard, even debilitating and life changing for so very many people. It is not easy to find anything good to say about the affect of a worldwide health crises, but despite all of the negative aspects, I must say that I am now being able to identify some positive effects it has had on me.

Knowing that I had to think about all of my actions, all of my words, and all of my intents, made me a more careful and thoughtful person. I may not have taken the time or I may have procrastinated making the changes that I was forced to make. Yes, we had to wear masks to keep from infecting each other with this evil virus. Yes, the restrictions affected our ability to move freely in society as we worked collectively and selflessly to control the spread. It also slowed me down and made me take the time to evaluate myself, my aspirations, my selfishness, and the impact that I have on everyone around me through my opinions and my actions. I also became more aware of these impacts from others.

This time has helped me take my relationship with my sweetheart to a deeper level, and I am heartwarmed and grateful. We have played together and talked together and dreamed together like new lovers. The painting above is just one of dozens I have captured of places from our driving adventures.

My art has also become more important for me. I am painting more, maturing and evolving faster, and becoming better in a way I might not have been able to do if I hadn’t been slowed down drastically. I am painting broad subject matter, and experimenting with color, style, and method. I am always learning and growing now and increasingly optimistic that I will eventually be recognized. The painting below is an oil study I’ll call, “Breakfast”.

Later in the year I will be taking my art history knowledge to a public event (Platteville, Wisconsin) setting up original work at an outdoor art fair (Greenwich Villiage Art Fair in Rockford, Illinois), and showing at an Outlander Convention (Thru the Stones in Davenport, Iowa).

Are you OK? Yes, I believe I am. Am I different? Yes, I believe I am that as well and I am grateful for the good changes I am now undergoing. It’s been a tough year but it’s time to breathe, celebrate life’s riches, and move forward. I am OK and I believe I will just keep getting better.

Plein-aire as a part of my summer outings.

It’s that time of year, after being inside for the Winter, we can start getting outdoors and taking vacations and exploring again. Covid restrictions are letting up as people are getting vaccinated and being out and about in parks and it feels pretty normal. As for my husband and I, the semester has come to a close so we can find time for long camping and fishing weekends.

As we prepare for camping, in addition to the normal things that you would stow in the vehicle like lodging, bedding and food, we reach for the book to read, the walking sticks, and quiet entertainments. My husband will bring something to whittle, and I will bring my plein-air painting kit. Even in a camp spot with no exotic vistas or intriguing architecture, there are always ready subjects.

It rained off and on while we were camping but the one day was relatively clear and I sat just within the circle of our campsite and pointed in a couple different directions to paint. When I’m working like this these oil sketches are captures for pure fun. They also continue to hone both my powers of observation, quick problem solving and other skillsets.

For me, paintings like this are not large and not intended to be more than moments captured live with the simplest layer between the artist and the living view. I may select subject matter that’s as small as one of the many warblers flitting around the site, or the wild geraniums at the edge of the clearing, or anything else from small to large within my vision because it’s more about the capture and the practice.

These pictures show the two paintings, 5″ by 7″, oil on canvas board that I painted that day. The one I call, ‘Honeysuckle Blooms’ and the other one, ‘Our Path To The Lake’.

The Captured Memory.

I can get wound up on Fridays because I know it’s the weekend and I can play in my yard and I can play at my easel and do various other fun things. I get excited. Yesterday, I also had a pretty unusual Friday at work with projects, visitors, conversations and work challenges that left me in hyper think. I bring this up because when my mind is that stimulated I can guarantee I’ll awaken in the middle of the night with insomnia. When I do, sometimes I’ll paint to wind back down.

As an artist I may talk about painting short studies in the field or doing sketches live or looking at a photo but I don’t often admit how much I reference memory. I do, of course, even if it’s subliminally referencing known anatomy long after I’ve taken the photo or seen the animal or recall land similar to what I’m painting. I am actually mushing together what I have seen and what I know from memory.

So, at about 2:30 this morning I woke up thinking about a crow that I saw as I pulled into my parking space at work yesterday morning. He burst up out of the long weeds at the edge of the parking lot with a mouthful of nesting material, side-lit in morning sun and a blur of motion. I spent a bit more than an hour at the easel during the night trying to jot down what my dream image was and referencing my memory of that fleeting mental snapshot.

It all sounds more complex than it is, but sometimes studies are just about experimenting with pushing paint around and I happened to pick that crow, at that moment, as he fades into my memory.

I hope you enjoy an insight to my dream bridge as I share this 11″ x 14″ oil on canvas called “Collecting”.

Honoring those who we lose.

Mankind, by our very nature, has a tendency for various rituals and belief systems based on honoring those who have gone before. Over millennia, these have been based on our theology or cultural norms and personally, having been raised in a Christian based belief system that designates heaven as the hoped-for goal, I grew up with a pretty clear image of that place.

I suspect that every one of us has some variation on that eventual place of perfection in our minds that is rooted in our spiritual readings or stories and motivates us to stay the course and win the prize. I know I do. As a woman of faith, heaven is absolutely in my plan.

Now, the variations of what heaven is, exactly, or how one gains entry, and a number of other proprietary criteria tend to be the literal root of dissension among all of the various faith systems. Sadly, it becomes competitively discriminating and fearfully defended without regard, by self-appointed human bouncers.

I believe I will see my parents again, and dear relatives, and even people I have admired for their intellect or spirit or love. I rarely admire anyone for their status or material accumulation and have long since leaned into the ‘actions speak louder than words’ rubric with a sans-theatrical filter. Cons just don’t impress me, and rarely fool me anymore if I’m paying attention.

My thoughts today, however, are focused more on one small thread of who may or may not be deemed worthy of entry through the gates of heaven. I believe, and I do qualify this as my belief, that heaven is also populated by all of the other sweet creatures that God lovingly created here on Earth. Yes, I believe that all of these animals, birds, and delightful creatures are also living happily in heaven.

I believe that heaven is governed by God’s law, and is complete with His peace without regard to any of the human interpreted qualifiers. We suspect this in our hearts as we share stories of beloved pets walking the rainbow bridge ahead of us, of them running to greet us when we arrive, and of the peace between all of God’s creatures in the nirvana that it’s heaven.

I recently had a conversation with a friend who spoke about the eventual loss of his horses, who are quite aged. I understand. It made me think about some of the wonderful, loving cats I’ve had and how sincerely grief stricken I have felt when I lost them. My common voice assured me they were just pets but my spiritual voice said far more. People who have seen that unconditional love coming from the eyes of an animal can easily relate to the unconditional love our Father has for us. God doesn’t work through coincidences but instead, gives us tangible lessons, demonstrations to help us understand concepts at the edge of our comprehension. This world He created for us is for more than food and shelter, it is here for us to learn and prepare for heaven…. and believe me, He really is watching, and impossible to con.

Today’s painting is a 5″ x 7″ oil on canvas board called, ‘Warm welcome’.

What are the art rules, actually?

I have always had a tendency to follow the rules. I don’t say that with any embarrassment or boastfulness, it just happens to be my tendency. I believe that in order to be a fruitful member of society we all need to follow some rules.

When I was little I knew that I was supposed to come in right after dusk or the last red light green light game was over. I knew that I was supposed to have a bath on certain days. I knew that I was supposed to eat my peas and not hide them behind the curtain in the kitchen. I knew that I couldn’t stay home from school and say I was sick but then turn around and feel OK later in the day and want to play outside. Rules were simple then, but straightforward. I learned right from wrong, good from bad, and the basic rules for good behavior.

From our childhood we move on through life, learning more and more of the subtle nuances of rules of engagement and acceptance. We learn the dance that is interaction with peers through school. We learn how to navigate the very delicate rules of the workplace that involve everything from personal interaction with colleagues to political steps for career mobility. We have to quickly adapt and learn the rules of each unique environment.

In my particular case, because of my heart’s inclination, I chose the visual arts. It, like most other career paths, have their own set of rules and when it comes to making the art itself, that has its own as well.

Early on it was pretty easy. No one expected me to follow predetermined steps since they knew I was exploring. Creativity allows for fewer rules but as soon as I started demonstrating that this was a lifelong path, the rules began to emerge in earnest, shifting elusively. The message appeared to shift from mentor to mentor, art history lesson to art history lesson, and region to region. I was confused.

As I reached middle age I found myself more and more anxious to seek out the advice from mature artists. Having spent almost 25 years in the graphic design industry as an illustrator, I felt like I didn’t know the rules for the fine arts. I was in my mid forties when I was able to return to college to finish my bachelor’s degree and I was hoping for clear direction. The advice I got from the professors, however, was actually all over the board and I learned my 1st solid lesson in subjectivity. The rules depend on everyone’s opinion.

With great fervor I was told that there are definite rules! Mandates always began with “You must…”! I was told to …focus on one medium, …focus on one topic or subject, …focus on one style, …focus on one era or artist to emulate, and so on. The rules became equally endless and diverse, and accumulated fast. In no time I was completely frozen.

It’s my tendency, as I said before, to follow rules but I felt that I couldn’t possibly comply. I was awakening and realizing a rapidly expanding diversity of what I wanted to do; to sculpt, to paint, to draw, and so much more. I wanted to explore realism, pointillism, expressionism, impressionism, and photorealism. I could no more settle on a favorite style then I could choose a favorite color or a favorite food. It’s based on my mood and the day and my chemistry. I was told that I was truly impossible.

My peers who seemed to get it were on their way; recommended for the teaching positions in grad school, recommended for financial support, and assisted in establishing teaching career paths. As for me, my naivete and non conformity shut the door to any funding for a potential teaching career in the arts.

Now more than 25 years have passed and I am nearing retirement from a different career and focusing on reemerging as an artist. In anticipation I began seeking the counsel of other artists several years ago and discovered again they have rules for me. I’ve had them tell me they can still see my tight style from my pen and ink days as an illustrator and I must stop that. I am told that I’m too slow because of my attention to detail. They remind me of the art rules I have heard my whole life and finally begin to understand.

I am, and have always been, an artist. It is less about profession and more about who I am. I am older now. I am less inclined to try to please others above myself. I’m realizing that the rules that the other artists tried to help me find were the rules that they had chosen to adopt because they made sense for them. None of those artists or professors or peers acted with malicious intent. They were trying to help me find my way. In fact, I was so anxious to please by following the rules that I made my own barriers. Life aggregates what has gone before and we must pick up a piece here and a piece there of what’s right for us and fold them in to be our best selves.

I’m finally becoming who I am supposed to be. Practice and time have done what advice could not. I am faster and looser now and it makes me a better painter. I think and evaluate more quickly now because I have been doing it longer and improved over time. I have resolved to paint what I like more often then I paint to please others and my emotion reflects that. Perhaps I have merely started to find my compromise with the rules. What I must say most definitely is that there may not be rules, actually. In art, rules are recommendations, observations, and guidance but not a script. We must be true to our art and to ourselves.

Today’s painting is a reflection of my current mood and aggregation. It’s a little bit loose and a little bit tight and a whole lotta Kelly. This 16″ x 20″, oil on canvas titled “Contemplations”.

Long range planning.

We often use the term, “long range planning” as a way to establish a series of actions – a plan so to speak – that allows us to organize a sequence of events over time to achieve a goal. Strategic plans and project planning and project management are all part of that action terminology. I’m kind of a list maker anyway so making plans like that are always something that appeals to me, even if I don’t formally write it down.

When it comes to my personal life, that’s a little harder to do. If there is an identified goal I can work backwards to make a plan that involves saving for an item to buy or I can make a plan for how to pull off a vacation that involves making hotel reservations, or looking at maps and brochures. If it is something about the house I can look at a calendar and decide what chunk of time might be free to get some task done. These are all valid but are also things that are completely based on my control over the time and process.

What about the strategic planning for going after the elusive dream? We may start making a plan when we’re young that is no more structured than a wishlist but somehow we still find ourselves performing the corrections along the way to still keep that dream in sight. Because life is so unpredictable we rarely set down a hard-and-fast path toward that dream because we know that we can get derailed if it’s too structured. It’s the agility that allows the odds for success to go up.

No, I’m not talking about performing tasks for certification or getting degrees for a particular occupation. Things like that need preparation, planning, financial investment and more. If, however, your dream is to be a successful lawyer there are 2 parallel project plans. One entails the action steps going to school, paying for the degree, networking, and internships while you’re in school. All of those are necessary and wise planning steps. I’m talking about the 2nd more elusive plan that has to parallel it. That plan is the dream plan. That’s where you talk to people at various stages while becoming what you want to become. You get advice. You are mentored. You read things, listen to podcasts, talk over coffee, and you pick up lots of little kernels of information to make the plan. It is that bag of kernels that helps you be agile enough to achieve the long term goal.

I had an art professor tell me one time that he didn’t spend a lot of time mentoring me and in fact made my life pretty miserable because he knew I was “in it for the long haul”. That’s a double-edge sword. I was flattered that he knew I was serious and would not be deterred from my dream. I was also furious that he did not want to give me any advice or mentorship toward that goal. In hindsight I think he was actually threatened by me. That’s a whole other topic that I’ll address at some other time. Suffice to say I am out here still plugging away and I have stopped watching the chronology. The long haul can mean anything.

I have no idea anymore what time frame I’m working under. Periodically along the way I look into my little bag of kernels and realize how much I’ve learned. There are times when I’ve used some of them to adjust my path and be sure that I’m still headed for the dream. There are other times that I worry about them having an expiration date, but that’s just fretting. It’s my slow realization that the joy is the journey and the journey is the dream. So for today I’m going to celebrate and be thankful and keep on walking the dream. I’m going to plan strategically for tomorrow and the next day because I am, after all, in it for the long haul.

Enjoy your tomorrow. Celebrate your tomorrow. I hope you enjoy today’s painting -a quick oil sketch- of a Friesian horse.

Influences

No one, especially not an artist, can ever say that they have become who they are without the influence of everything and everyone around them. It is a continual evolution, and I have to say there are times when it’s more and less evident in my life, but it is always rewarding!

You have walked with me here lately and heard me talking about conversations with friends and fellow painters, going for drives, and feeling like I’m going through some growing pains. My life experiences, the people in my life, and the day to day challenges or joys, accumulate. Paintings are literally the tip of the iceberg of what is churning inside. When I am having a growth spurt my life can appear blurry, and as those iceberg tops that reveal some kind of inner movement pop up, they can leave a narrative that looks different and fractured and hard to explain. Let me simplify. It is just life. With visual artists, it just presents as evidentiary images of processing.

As a child I was influenced by illustrators like NC Wyeth and Wesley Dennis. As I grew up and explored the art world I admired artists like Monet and his muted pastels, and Kandinsky with his saturated color and they, too, added to growing influences. As each piece come together over passing years I could feel the collecting bits and could see the shifts and the aggregating. I’ve been admiring my plein-aire friend’s gestural and impressionist style recently, but know that it is his style. I have admired Andrew Wyeth’s loose illustrative work, but that’s his style as well. By admiring other artists I find bits that speak to me in that moment of my growth and it influences me. It is important for me to reach out and explore and play and let those influences fold in with all of the subtlety and nuance of a novice baker folding in new ingredients to the bowl.

Yesterday was an absolutely lovely day. I began the day by painting the cornfield in the studio, and then we went for a ride in the afternoon to fill the car with gas, visit friends, deliver a painting, and take pictures – both on the drive and at our friends house. There was so much inspiration. There will be so many images from yesterday that will emerge on canvas over time. This morning I sat in my studio listening to big band music blare on Pandora, thought about some of the wonderful horses, birds and scenes I had seen yesterday, and thought about how hard it is to photograph animals because they’re always in a blur of movement. One feral rooster seemed to follow us around, making all kinds of noise while we tried to have a conversation in the barns. I couldn’t help but think about an Aunt’s suggestion that I paint chickens and a friend who has done so recently. I had, afterall, painted my brother’s chicken, Porky, last year.

So while Ray was cooking breakfast, I painted. The relaxing day we had, influenced me. I found myself letting my recent conversations with Griffing, Brauer, Rodgers, and James further influence me. My own past watercolor sketches, Kandinsky’s raging color, Lon’s gestural energy and a whole slug of personal history influenced me. My work will continue to evolve, just as I will. For those who are concerned that my work is swinging all over, keep in mind that we are an aggregate of all kind of influences in everything we do and everything we are. It is whether we choose to keep anything, how much we choose to integrate, and if in fact we actively choose to reject that can be attributed to influence. The resulting person we find ourselves is directly influenced by our gift from God, that being, choice.

I encourage you to play some big band music, thank Kandinsky, and enjoy this playful painting – an 11″ x 14″ oil on canvas titled, The Feral Rooster Strut.