Saturday, 26 December 2015

to be continued

Tonight will find me in Paris. 
I will return in January, renewed, reconnected, wired in 
and with my creative fire roaring. 
See you then.

Friday, 18 December 2015


As solstice approaches, the new vision board takes shape. 
Pearls for twenty sixteen have been harvested throughout the year.  
Counting the things done well and cherishing successes, I feel 
that I am in a graceful place of unbound creativity, support and love.

The New Year will find me changing things that no longer serve 
my studio practice, including this blog. It's been an amazing vehicle, 
creating connections far beyond my website. Alas, time to morph has arrived.
Because my studio stories are read by collectors, students and perhaps 
a few curious souls, I will continue with them, though they will likely arrive in weekly (?)
packages here. The new stuff excites me as it will invite collaborations, celebrations of
my community and fuel for some good work.

This has been great fun. I can't wait to see this pet project mature 
into something more to chew on.

Monday, 14 December 2015

#regram as the cool kids say

5 year old sketch. How interesting. Often, when I review older work, the first thing I think of is how it differs from my current skills. Of course, that's a good thing and by no means do I buy into that "I wish this wasn't around cause I'm so much better now" thing. 

No. As predictable as it may sound, I like where I was, where I continued from there and where I arrived. These days, my studio is a smiling, eclectic mess of numerous disciplines. I no longer feel tied down to things "I should" make or am wanted to make. How delicious to taste a new something and find out I want to put my brushes aside in favour of assemblage - for example. And that cage in the garage, peeling with 50s green and rust is screaming for my attention. I know who I want to put inside (not crow, not hummingbird, perhaps flower, perhaps not).

Still, beautiful is the space which opens to gratitude. For this little sweetie, a young crow I met in Victoria, I am thankful. He was playful, graceful, full of life and joy. Just maybe, during all this exploration, I will set aside space for a good old-fashioned charcoal sketch.

Sunday, 13 December 2015

your beating heart

I get lost in your mind, body and soul

"Your Beating Heart", 6 x 6 inches, mixed media

Wednesday, 9 December 2015

her sweet words

About ten years ago, when I first began painting, I decided to include a story or a poem with each painting. Back then, this used to be done via a message tucked into the back of the works. 

As time passed, I started this blog. Though I still begin on paper (I find my thoughts are more fluid with a pen, I enjoy the scent of the sketchpad or scrap wrapping tissue and it simply feels delicious), having the final copy in an electronic form makes sense, especially in this social media age. Never had I used someone else's words to do this, the exceptions being Osho, Buddha and traditional Haiku masters in the form of a sentence woven in.

Until yesterday. Via another platform, a viewer was very moved by "Floating On Light". It reminded her of a poem she wrote. "Would I like to read it?", she asked. "I would love to", I posted as a reply. When I was finished, I felt like I was wrapped in a silk cover, transported by the story into a shimmering, light and ethereal space. I cried. A fulfilling, emotional cry that fed me. For the first time, another's story will marry my painting here. I am honoured that she permitted me. Here are her words: 

"This came to me in a dream vision and I wrote it down. 
Perhaps it doesn't fit with your painting but it reminded me 
of this wonderful painting of yours! No one else has seen this and I generally don't share my poetry but I thought maybe you'd like it.


(Karen Lipsett-Kidd)

I was promised
From so long ago
Before I was born
You sat to the right of him
He told you your time would come
That you would see
A cherry petal
That would not die when it fell
You would pick it up with reverence
Kiss it and hold it to your heart
The petal would transform you
As a stork you would fly
Ungainly first then with great wide wings
You'd journey to a distant shore. When you returned the following year and touched the ground you became a man and there waiting was a girl not old enough to know you but waiting still.
But you knew in time she would be yours and you were patient.
At the age of consent I was given and love of the greatest nature arose.
There was much celebration but the lovers only had eyes for each other.
Amidst the gaiety and noise
there was profound silence between the two as they stood
in awe of their combined souls union and they disappeared into one another.
Or so the story goes.

Tuesday, 8 December 2015

when you slow down

An indulgent moment in nothingness
An acceptance space in everything-ness

That brews inside and bubbles up to arrive
On the comforting pillow of a deep breath

Nourishing the wondering mind with calm
Feeding the spirited soul by a soft feather

Expecting nothing and needing no thing
Just being, breathing, seeing and listening

Monday, 7 December 2015

bare, from a woman's point of view

I love women. Yes, I find them beautiful, but there is so much more to it. The depth of feelings and emotional capacity (two vastly different qualities), the nurturing ability, the child-bearing, loving and raising-little-humans gift many of us have, the sensuality and luxuriousness in their physical softness are mere examples of what I cherish about them.

The aesthetic fascination is harder to explain, because I think of myself as a hot-blooded, crazily drunk on life, creative and beautiful woman. This doesn't come from a place of conceitedness. Quite the opposite. I've worked on self-worth and confidence for a long time. It's still work in progress. I just found myself being a better artist when I decided to see my accomplishments rather than measure myself against the follow-the-sheep mainstream trends. In turn, my examining abilities, friendship depths and personal goals have all soared. For me, it's all in one bucket. I like to feel good about the inner me first and the outside shell seems to mirror. It's a rewarding space to be in, full of light and shine.

The goddesses that turn my head and often set my artistic heart aflutter seem to float by on a healthy confidence pillow. In my experience, that kind of beauty is deeper, more raw and real than the gorgeous "sexy thing" kind.   This aplomb originates in an all-ness of compassion, ability, intelligence, humbleness and grace. I like a sprinkle of badass-ness on top. A well-rounded woman. One that is cognizant of her vulnerability yet capable of being strong. That is intoxicating to me.

There will be an exhibition to celebrate The Women. It's an encompassing and emotional project. It's also a big one as it'll be run by artists instead of a gallery and likely spark a lot of online attention and, hopefully and more importantly, plant seeds for good conversations. Logistics have scratched the possibility of spring off the calendar. I'll cross my fingers for the fall. If not, for whenever it's meant to be.

For now, I'm compiling material, journaling, researching, interviewing, sketching and painting to get my technical as well as thinking skills up to where I want them. Once in a while, inspiration can't wait and spills out of my brushes by itself. I do nothing but connect to my inner self. That's always been the best place to sink into.

    "Silk & Silver"
mixed media, 6 x 6 inches