Book of Secrets

When I'm raw, exposure is the measure of healing. Is it wise to share everything, bleach out the infection with the light? Maybe I require a salve and bandage to smother and heal? The pendulum is maddening.

Balance is the key to finding the groove in time with the earth. I've learned some things this summer. I'm carrying them with me into the longer nights and am completely comforted by seeing my art, my collectors, my computer are all here. 

My daughters have secrets they need to keep too. I have to trust them to manage their internal lives and keep open to any opportunity to learn more. 

Next week school starts and I'll officially be out of my "residency" and moving into a new mode, online, in stores, at shows.

I'm looking forward to sharing and getting lost in it all over again. 

"Kitty Girl and Her Book of Secrets"
8" x 8"
Oil Acrylic Graphite on Canvas
Available to bid on eBay until August 27, 2016
Starting bid .99 with no reserve.

Less Talk, More Work

Trying to quiet my brain and quiet my nagging. The two are connected, taut as a lariat yanked in a panicked attempt at control.

Shhhh...let's sit on the ground and snuggle the dogs. We'll make art and cool ourselves on the paint splattered concrete.

Let's create a mess we can clean up and enjoy the day. 

Just Doing

Work.

Be.

Think.

Do. 

No plans, just show up. Quiet the story in my head. No one else is thinking about this.

It is safe spot.

"Just Do"
8" x 10"
Oil Acrylic Pastel Graphite on Canvas
Available Here

Insecurity in the Age of The Humble Brag

Is insecurity it’s own form of vanity? A Facebook Friend presented that concept and it felt like biting on tin foil; nerve struck. Could insecurity be the devilish end to an overblown ego? I considered my own. 

It manipulates me into thinking people actually care. It recommends ideas to manipulate others to prove it, concepts I try to consistently reject. It clutters my thinking regardless. It is an embarrassing funhouse mirror; try to appear so small you may slip through a storm drain. Look like a fool screaming "Save me! I'm Tiny!" 

"Tell me I’m big."

How about...

Tell yourself you are an average sized human and maybe quit standing in the gutter.

Finding the sweet spot of sharing creative life online hasn't become easier the more I do it. Practice makes cloying. I cringe at some of the things I wrote 6 years ago but they were honest at the time. I'm sure I'll do the same here, six years from now but I can't be honest writing for "Future Me".

Creating for posterity? That is just shameless ego. 

Sharing vulnerability isn't about size. It is about time and space. "Where I am?" not "Where do you think I am?"  On a true course, other travelers will recognize the honesty.

The humblebrag, is a burp. Bad manners born of insecurity and the inability to know when you're in a good location.  I know I'm in a good place but there is always a real tug at my ego. "I'm not there yet." Where's there anyway?

So yes, I'm insecure but I try not to use digital life as a salve for those paper cuts of perceived slights (hurts like a bitch but really quite shallow). Managing disappointment is a fundamental part of this job. If you don't have it checked, you're not successful.  

I am recalculating my position as I age, make art and parent my children, dropping a pin on the map.

I'm asking questions that don't need answers and just wondering if you are asking them too.

Disappearing Woman
8" x 10"
Oil Acrylic Graphite on Canvas
$180
Available in my store.
 

Two Months to See

Yesterday I posted about struggling with clarity. Last night I dreamt I was called into a room of specialists who had finally figured out what was wrong. It was serious.

I only had two months to see. My vision would be completely gone in a matter of weeks. I had to decide if I wanted to make the best art with the vision I still had or start figuring out how to paint without it. 

It was so real and terrifying. 

Perspective.

Also a good lesson for artists.

Invisible Woman
8" x 10"
Acrylic Oil Graphite on Canvas

Chip and Grind

I grind my teeth when I sleep. I chip at my ego to work.  I mine my head for ideas and calcium day and night. 

If I stop grinding will I ever sleep?

If I stop chipping will I ever work?

I need to relax but I'm afraid of it; afraid of the creamy swirl of country comforts, middle age, farmer's markets, and sunset date nights, where I'll disappear. 

Old ways are not serving me anymore. I've hit bedrock. I'm tired. I need a sunset date night.

I don't know how to be 45 and I have about 6 weeks to learn. My older friends will say I'm still young, my younger friends will stay I'm not that old. I feel a major transition though. No affirming meme with a grey-haired model will help.

I need to bite down on the unknown root, suck the medicinal bitterness from it and hope it does not poison me.

Artist Residency in Motherhood

This blog is part of my Artist Residency in Motherhood (June 16 - August 30 2016). The work I'm doing this summer includes improving my studio space, extended studio time and business focus. In order to support this effort, I have created a store and appreciate all direct sales.

I am also happy to report new relationships with retail stores and galleries which I will be featuring here this summer.  If you are interested in wholesale purchases or showing my work, please contact me directly.

"A self-directed, open-source artist residency to empower
and inspire artists who are also mothers."

To learn more and create your own, please visit
Artist Residency in Motherhood.