Painted Shirts

Dorothy and Bruce came over to my studio today, to handpaint T-shirts. Here they are with two of their beautiful creations. They live down the street, and we always have fun together. Dorothy just turned eight, and Bruce is four. Aren't they adorable? The shirts they painted look great, too.

Grief and Loss

My brother's dog died yesterday, and I'm reminded of how difficult it is to lose an animal companion. In some ways I think it's more difficult than losing people we are close to, because animals offer us unconditional love in a way that people can't. Also because we have to make life and death decisions for the animal, and that's really hard.

I have three older cats, all about the same age, and I dread the day when they're no longer with me. I've been through it before with other cats, and I know how overwhelming the grief can be -- how empty life feels without them.

Grieve not,
nor think of me with tears
But laugh
and talk to me as if I were beside you . . .
I loved you so . . .
'Twas heaven here with you.
-Isla Paschal Richardson

Goodbye sweet Tessie. We'll miss you and remember you always.

"'Twas heaven here with you," Howie -- you gave her a wonderful life. And it's OK to grieve.

Just Say No to TV

People are always surprised when I tell them I don't have a television. I also don't have a microwave, nor do I subscribe to or read any newspapers. I'm not exactly a Luddite -- after all, I am typing this on a state-of-the-art computer -- but I am careful about what technology I bring into my life. In the case of television, I choose not to be influenced by the junk that's on TV. What we allow into our minds affects how we think, just like what we eat affects how we feel physically. I don't want a diet of TV.

I think not watching TV is part of the reason I'm able to get a lot done. I don't have the TV to distract me. I do read, write, and listen to non-commercial radio from time to time, but those activities aren't as hypnotic and addictive as TV.

There probably are some good shows on TV, but I suspect they're few and far between, and I think it's difficult to turn the TV off when the good show is over. For the most part, TV promotes violence, fear, and insecurity -- all attributes I can live without. Some say that I am burying my head in the sand. Perhaps, but I inevitably hear about the major news stories from friends or from Internet news flashes. And maybe what I don't know won't hurt me!

Adolescent Dreams

Lately I have become envious of people who are young and are just beginning their adult lives. My late teens and early twenties were a difficult time in my life, and I've never had a desire to return to those years. Yet when I hear about someone young on the brink of a promising new career or in graduate school, I am wild with envy.

Clearly this must say something about me -- perhaps that I need a fresh start in life? But is it possible for a middle-aged woman to start her life over again, and what would I do differently if I could?

I want to be 20 years old and just starting out, with no ties to anyone or any particular place. Not that I was like that when I was 20. I'd probably be better off living some place other than L.A. Big city life doesn't exactly suit me, but moving is daunting after having lived here my entire life.

I want to be a brilliant young something -- a blossoming prodigy. It doesn't matter what field, as long as it's something I'm passionate about. I was never a brilliant young anything, because I was too confused.

I want to be able to look at the world through inexperienced eyes. I don't find many things that excite me that way anymore. Maybe I know too much! There's nothing new under the sun now; I've seen or heard it all before.

I want to be foolishly optimistic and idealistic. It's becoming more difficult to be hopeful, although I don't think I'm cynical or bitter. I want to go back to the Summer of Love! Those words alone send chills down my spine and invoke visions of San Francisco in the late 1960s.

But there are also things that I don't envy about young people. I know myself a lot better than I did when I was 20. I am less fearful, and better able to negotiate the world. I'm able to take risks now that I never would have taken then.

I can't go back in time, but perhaps I can incorporate some freshness into my life. I'm not sure how. I'm going to have to give it some thought.

Weisman Collection of Art

I visited the Frederick R. Weisman Collection at Carolwood with my Art in Art Spaces class today. This is really a great class. We meet every Tuesday from about 10:00 - 1:00 and visit galleries and art museums all over town. That's Jim Murray on the far left in the picture above, our fearless leader, who does a fabulous job of arranging these weekly excursions. I've been a part of this class for about three-and-a-half years now, and I never get tired of it. There's so much art in this city, and there's always something new to see.

The Weisman collection is housed in a beautiful house in Holmby Hills -- the house that was his home before he died in 1994. The house is packed with art -- so much that it's overwhelming. There are paintings and sculptures by Picasso, Klee, Kandinsky, de Kooning, Warhol, Francis, Rothko, Frankenthaler, Moore, Oldenburg, Lichtenstein, Johns, Ruscha . . . the list goes on and on.

The Weisman Art Foundation offers docent-led tours of the home and the art to anyone who is interested -- groups or individuals -- by appointment only. It's well worth your time to check this out. No photography allowed inside the house, so I was only able to get this picture outside.

Timing

This evening I was interviewed about art, creativity and my creative process by Caneel Joyce, who is working on her Ph.D at UC Berkeley. She asked questions about how I decide which ideas to implement, and what happens to the ideas that are not pursued. I had never given much thought to that before.

I write down all of my ideas so I won't forget them, but I rarely go back and read my notes. I only ever want to work on my newest idea, because that's the one that I'm currently excited about. The old ideas are . . . well, they're OLD!

Caneel asked how I feel about the ideas that I don't pursue. Again, this is something I'd never thought about. If I stop and let myself feel, it feels a little sad that a lot of ideas get left behind simply because of timing. It's not that they aren't good ideas, but I was busy working on something else at the time they arrived, and when I have time for them, newer ideas have replaced them in my mind.

I wonder how much of the rest of life is like that -- all a matter of timing.

Today I put an opalescent glaze on my paintings, but there's not much to show you. Opalescence doesn't photograph well. The glaze is slow to dry, so I can't do much with them until late tomorrow or Wednesday.

The Grass is Always Greener

I've heard that some people think that artists lead glamorous and exiciting lives. AHAHAHAHAHA! The most exciting thing that happened to me recently was finding strawberries on sale at Whole Foods Market. And what's glamorous about permanently stained cuticles and paint splatters on all of my clothes?

It's not like I spend my time sitting in outdoor cafes, sipping wine, and discussing existentialism with fellow artists. Art is hard work! When I'm not in the studio, I'm marketing my work through mailings, followup e-mail, phone calls, my website, art consultants, shows, and galleries. I spend more time marketing my work than I spend making it.

Then there's the xtreme rollercoaster aspect of being an artist -- the high highs, and the low lows. One day I'll be on top of the world because XYZ Gallery has agreed to look at my work, and the next day I'll get three rejections in the mail. Sales will be great for a period of time, and then they suddenly drop off. I never know what to expect.

But I still think being an artist is the greatest job in the world. I like working alone and being my own boss. I am 100% responsible for my success or lack thereof. I like working with my hands and creating something from scratch. I like the challenge that each painting presents, prodding me to stretch the limits of my imagination. And I like sharing my creations with other people.

Painting is magic. One minute the canvas is white and unassuming, and the next minute it's evolving into something full of wonder.

Glamorous? Not really. But it is fun!

It's Dorothy's Birthday!

Happy Birthday, Dorothy! Eight years old tomorrow, and looking goooood girl in that new shirt! Dorothy and her younger brother, Bruce, live two doors down, and I sometimes babysit. We have a lot of fun together. Next Saturday they're coming to my studio to handpaint T-shirts. Maybe I can get some pics of that to show you.

Flexibility

Part of being an artist is learning to be flexible. My work never turns out exactly the way I want it to -- the way I envision it in my mind. I have to be flexible enough to work with what I have, rather than what I was expecting.

It seems like I have to relearn this every time I pick up a brush. I'll think that I have mastered a technique, that I have complete control over what I'm doing. But it doesn't work that way. There are too many variables for me to have control -- the size of the canvas, the viscosity of the paint, the intensity of each color and how the colors blend, the underpainting, and even the weather. Plus I keep changing things, because if I did the same thing all the time, it would be way too boring!

Painting is a metaphor for life -- learning to let go of expectations and dealing with the reality of what is.

I can almost always turn what I've got into something beautiful, but I can't follow a plan. I have to take a painting one step at a time, and figure out what the next layer should be after I see what the previous layers look like.

Here's a detail of one of the panels I did today. I thought you might like to see it in process. So far this piece has underpainting and the first layer of paint. Several more layers will follow. I thought I was painting "winter," but now I'm not so sure that's what it will be. Time will tell.

Cosmic Joke

Wait a minute . . . my site statistics show that people actually are reading this blog! Given that, maybe I should post about something pithy. How about purpose and meaning?

All of you working artists out there, do you ever wonder about the sanity of what you're doing? People all over the world are dying everyday from starvation, millions are homeless, species are becoming extinct, rainforests are disappearing, countries (my own country, nonetheless) are bombing other countries . . . and I feel compelled to make art? What kind of a meaningful career choice is that? It reminds me of the band playing while the Titantic went down. It's almost like a joke that God is playing on me -- giving me a calling that has no practical purpose.

I have heard it said that artists are visionaries -- that we lead the way in envisioning a new and better world. I hope that's true. I want to think that I'm contributing to making the world a better place and not just using up resources in the form of pigments, canvas and wood.

It's hard to see the forest for the trees. It's easier to look back and see what artists have contributed in the past than to get a handle on what our societal contribution might be right now.

Is it enough to create beautiful artwork, or would I be better off contributing more directly by doing something practical like feeding the homeless?

Current music: Andy White's "Out There" CD -- especially "Speechless." Can you tell?

Emotions

Now that I've established that no one is reading this blog, I'm free to say whatever I want! So let's get down and dirty. Let's talk about those nasty things called emotions.

I've studied and practiced meditation off and on for about twenty years, and I spent many years of long sessions with my friend Michael Benner trying to learn emotional control. Both Michael and meditation were attempting to teach me to detach from my emotions. But here's the thing . . . when I'm detached from my emotions I'm not creative. Maybe because I use creativity as an outlet for my emotions. When I'm feeling complacent, there's no motivation to create. The more intense the emotion, the more intense the creative work that comes out of it. There's nothing like anger to propel me into the studio and fuel my creativity. I can't create something from nothing. I have to FEEL something passionately in order to be creative. Otherwise my work becomes mechanical, and I'm just going through the motions.

Sorry, Michael.

So now I'm listening to early Bob Dylan, and feeling both angry and sad. I've heard it said that rock 'n roll is second chakra music -- it stirs up your emotions. In that case, bring it on!

I did the underpainting for the first big painting in my new series today. It's not BIG big. I decided to go with 36" x 48" for this first group. It's a size that's a little bigger than I usually work, but it will still fit in my car.

Me Me Me

It occurs to me that I'm writing a blog that's all about me. My thoughts, my ideas, my observations, my experiences, my work. Maybe no one's interested in me. So who am I writing this for -- myself, or someone else?

Even my best friend Ron says he doesn't have time to read blogs -- not even MY blog.

Writing posts for this blog reminds me of the days when I wrote letters. It fills a need to share myself with others, with the illusion that someone is on the other end reading.

Ultimately, who is this for? Is it for me, or for anyone out there who might be reading this? I think it's a little of both. The act of writing helps me to clarify my thoughts, and I also enjoy sharing what I'm thinking and doing with other people.

Maybe this truly is a soliloquy, and I'm only speaking to myself.

New Work

I spent some time in the studio today because I knew you'd be expecting to see new work from me. Have you seen my new studio? It's fabulous. I don't know how I got along without it before.



Like other artists, I go through productive periods and fallow periods. Sometimes I need time off from painting to let new ideas come in. At the moment I'm in an experimental period where I'm trying out new techniques and ideas. Here's what I did today:






I'm at the very beginning of creating a new body of work. I'm struggling with conceptual issues as well as practical issues, like size. I want to work big, but big becomes a problem when I have to take the paintings anywhere. Do I limit the size of my paintings to what will fit in my car? That seems kind of arbitrary. But I'm not keen on the idea of renting trucks, either.

Transition

I've been a vegetarian for twenty years, but recently I have become obsessed with meat. One of my cats was diagnosed with Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD), and being the fanatic that I am, I refused to put her on Prednisone. Instead I did some research on the Internet, and switched her to an all raw meat diet, which cleared up her symptoms right away. Now you will find me at Whole Foods Market buying five pounds of free range organic chicken at a time. I wasn't aware of how much meat my cats consume until I had to chop it all by hand. Bringing home a five-pound bag of kibble and pouring it into bowls isn't quite the same as slimy meat and chicken livers all over my vegetarian kitchen. I switched all three of my cats to raw meat, since they all eat each others' food. It's a lot of meat -- believe me.

Commercial pet foods have only been around since the 1960s. Before that Fido and Fluffy hunted their own prey, or ate table scraps. Grain is used as a primary ingredient in the foods, but grain isn't a natural part of a cat's diet. A lot of cats have trouble with grains, especially as they get older.

If you decide to try a raw meat diet for your cats, there are books and Internet sources to help you. You can't just feed raw meat, unless you're going to grind entire carcasses, head, organs, bones and all. You need to add some supplements.

My cats are adapting pretty well to a raw meat diet. Enzo and Sashi prefer it over kibble, but Cinnamon, the one with IBD, is more fussy. Her meat has to be fresh fresh fresh, or she won't touch it. She's also hooked on raw fish, which has a stronger flavor than chicken or turkey, and I'm trying to wean her off of that. Fish isn't good for cats. This is Cinnamon. You can ask my friend Ron why he decided to name her that!

Recommended Shows

I was out and about on the Westside yesterday with my Tuesday Art in Art Spaces class, and we saw some great shows. I highly recommend Fred Williams at LA Louver, Patricia Chidlaw at Terrence Rogers Fine Art, Richard Bruland at Gail Harvey Gallery, Glenn Brown at Patrick Painter, and Raymond Saunders at Hunsaker/Schlesinger.

Selling Work

I was at Hunsaker/Schlesinger Gallery at Bergamot Station yesterday, and they had a drawing by an artist who is a young graduate student at CSU Long Beach. Her work is very detailed, somewhat surrealistic drawings of animals done only with a carbon pencil. I wish I had a picture to show you. I'll have to remember to carry my digital camera with me, or least remember the artist's name for a link. The gallery owner said that she sells every piece that this artist brings her. What's that about?

The work is very beautiful, but so is other work that doesn't sell so easily. Is it that this artist is in the right place at the right time, figurative work being popular right now? Is this artist more talented than other artists? Does this artist have better connections? She was introduced to the gallery owner by well-known painter Peter Zokosky.

I always wonder about what art sells and what doesn't. It's a mystery to me.

New Eyes

This morning the bathroom tile jumped out at me. Does this ever happen to you -- where everyday objects are suddenly seen in a new light? It occurred to me that hexagons are the perfect shape. The length of each side is equal to the radius of the circle the points form, and it's the easiest angular geometric shape to draw with a compass. And I like the way they fit together, looking both linear and circular at the same time.

I want to try hexagons as an underpainting, maybe the outline of them stamped roughly onto canvas with texture and irregularity in the paint. I need to make a hexagonal stamp. Wood and string? Linoleum block? Where can I get a hexagonal block?