Self-care

I made a painting for a friend's sons' birthday. It is of a boy in a hat he knit himself. My thoughts lately have been with friends who are facing life altering challenges. Illnesses, transitions, aging; no one escapes these things. Life is fraught and I am perpetually happy and sad together. Words fail me and sometimes I feel helpless, I keep my head down and work on controlling my own inner state. In the interim I listen to music, beautiful songs made by broken humans, and I sing along.  Sometimes I cry, sometimes I dance.

Handle with Care

Traveling Wilburys

 

Been beat up and battered 'round
Been sent up, and I've been shot down
You're the best thing that I've ever found
Handle me with care

 

Reputations changeable
Situations tolerable
Baby, you're adorable
Handle me with care

 

I'm so tired of being lonely
I still have some love to give
Won't you show me that you really care?

 

Everybody's got somebody to lean on
Put your body next to mine, and dream on

I've been fobbed off, and I've been fooled
I've been robbed and ridiculed
In daycare centers and night schools
Handle me with care

 

Been stuck in airports, terrorized
Sent to meetings, hypnotized
Overexposed, commercialized
Handle me with care

 

I'm so tired of being lonely
I still have some love to give
Won't you show me that you really care?

 

Everybody's got somebody to lean on
Put your body next to mine, and dream on

I've been uptight and made a mess 

But I'll clean it up myself, I guess
Oh, the sweet smell of success
Handle me with care

 

 

Songwriters: Bob Dylan / George Harrison / Jeff Lynne / Roy K Orbison / Tom Petty

Handle with Care lyrics © BMG Rights Management, The Bicycle Music Company

Portrait of the Artist Series, 2011/2012

2011

I  forget to be generous with myself about what I get done. I am just a messy bossy human hoping for a good kick at the can, I have a lot on my to-do list. Doing some reflecting this January, thought I'd revisit these paintings and prints after a trip to the Vancouver Art Gallery last week. I made the first one after watching The Royal Tennenbaums but then it became a little habit and selfies were huge suddenly as Facebook rose in popularity. I guess I was already feeling the ennui of social media. These represent my first step toward developing an art practice.

Something Nice

This came in the mail yesterday. It was sent to me via artist Jeanne Williamson Ostroff from another artist, Danielle Dimston. I first encountered Jeanne in a book called Uncommon Quilter. She was ostensibly a quilter but over the past few years I have watched her make the transition from craft to fine art. In the Uncommon Quilter she makes 52, 12 x 12 quilt blocks out of a variety of materials, one per week. It's fascinating to go through the book and see the artist emerge through the process of making studies on a common theme. Eventually Jeanne moved away from sewing and has been painting and printing images on fabric. What began as studies based around construction fence patterns has evolved into in a diverse body of work including painting, prints, installations and now garments. I began following Jeanne on Facebook and she's been a real inspiration to me. She shows her work a lot and continues to make books on craft. I am astounded by her energy but I have a theory. I think women gain more energy and clarity after 50.

I had an amazing dream last night about being pregnant. In the dream and when I woke up I felt exhilarated and positive. I felt powerful, something I have not felt in some time. I am two days away from my period starting and although I have that heaviness in my legs, I am also trying to listen to what other messages my body is giving my brain and how my brain is answering back. These dream images must rise up for a reason. For months I have not remembered anything from the murkiness of sleep and then there is this clear shining image of creative potential (I am of course speaking metaphorically here, I have no interest in a baby at my age).

I found painter,  Danielle Dimston via Jeanne's blog. She makes postcards as part of her practice and sends them off here and there. I like the simplicity of her paintings and her dedication to exploration. Jeanne asked her if she could send me a card and here it is. I am looking forward to sending her one in return, here is an example of one of the postcards I sent some time ago.

Our sunny streak ended last night with a modest thunder storm and it rained in the night. The sky was gray all day, the air felt slightly crisp and there are dry leaves accumulating at the side of my blessed road. I wore jeans for the first time in 6 weeks. The air was heavy where the road dips down at the creek and I got a few whiffs of something dead. It was a distinct scent just hanging there above the ditch. Today it rained hard and I didn't walk. I took my daughter on an outing and avoided work which has been feeling a little forced with so many projects to produce. I needed a down day and wanted to spend some time with her beyond the time we spend locked in domestic routine together.

Sketchbook Project Completed

 

The book is a journal of my daily walk. 

And what it feels like to be 49.

  

Thinking about the past.

Keeping an eye on nature.

 

Trying to stay grounded. 

What I think about when I walk.

And the things I see.  

 

And the way I have structured my life in an attempt to be creative. 

 

Front and back ready for packing. 

 

Ready for stamps!

Now that it is done, such as it is. I keep feeling like I want to look at it again and then I remember
it is packaged and going away. It's a strange sensation. Freeing perhaps. If you get a chance to
go and see it as it travels around the US, please let me know how it's behaving with the other
wee books.

Hiatus

Self Portrait July 2012

 

The thing is to not make excuses. Perhaps the thing is to turn off the TV and the computer and sit and listen. I do this sometimes and then I check FB on my phone and it feels so ludicrous but still I do it, like reaching for a drink when you know damn well you've had enough, or another cookie or a chip. I imagine myself, my self, in wrestling tights leaping at my best intentions, performing impressive efficient take downs of ideas and schemes and I rise and turn on the TV and obliterate my motivation to do anything. Then one day I stop thinking about the painting class and what She told me and I make one and I feel good but my busy mind gets ahead of me and asks why and what for and I don't have those answers. I don't have any answers and I wonder if I just want to lie down, close up and not compete with the rest of the burgeoning human race, human mess. I wish I could just stop wrestling and make and do without thought. Empty my mind completely, how peaceful that would be.

Begin again

The kid comes back today after about 2 weeks away. I've been sleeping well, not having the usual lost child dreams of days gone by. I am certain there will be a period of readjustment, there always was but it feels bigger this time. I have allowed, almost encouraged at times, an adversarial environment between the two homes she inhabits and it has given me nothing. My daughter has always been hip to everything in her world. She is observant and a little suspicious and she knows how to get what she wants and possibly needs. She doesn't need me to point out the flaws but rather be a sounding board when she sees the fallibility of things and people. In that vein I will attempt to close the door on the past and look ahead. She is a baby no more and neither am I.

Post solstice wrap-up

5 days into summer. The solstice came but I didn't celebrate on the day and instead I ambled next door and did it belatedly with some longtime friends on Friday. We sat around under my white — ever useful in many circumstances—farmers market canopy in folding chairs, while the rain poured with all it's might and we agreed that this was certainly the only way to welcome summer in the Pacific Northwest. The very next day I got caught out in a thunder and lightening storm that blew down trees around the county and soaked my jeans and shoes, and dog. Yesterday it was okay all day weather wise and I went to the Cone Sisters Show at VAG with my sister and seriously considered whether or not we should dedicate our lives to leisure and art. You know, make a name for yourself in better circles like those Cone Sisters did. My sister gave me change for transit because I had none and showed me where to catch the sky-train to visit our stepmother which I felt was terribly good of her. It felt exciting to be inside the Gallery. Matisse's Odelisques were inspiring and hopefully, affirming.

I started this painting. That is all I have to report. After I have made about 400 of these I will have more of an idea of what it is I am doing. I think I should spend some more time on this one and then make another one right away. You heard it here first. I saw my stepmother again today so that my dad could go freely to Walmart to replace a pair of pants for her. I rolled her out to the garden and we sat and she laughed out loud, almost hysterically at times at what was going on around her. She was lively for a time but then began to think that one of the men was her father. She said, "my father never wore white shoes". She looked lost and agitated. I reassured her that everything was going to be okay. "I feel mad with madness" she said. On the way home I got lost on United Boulevard amongst road construction and landfill traffic looking for the good fabric store. Mark wrote his final securities exam and we went for a walk in the late afternoon with the dog and it was hard to tell what day it was because we had not spent the whole weekend together.

I have been alone much of the last 10 days which has been somewhat novel and certainly rejuvenating. Initially I felt freaked out about releasing my death grip on my young charge but a cooler head prevailed and I took the time off willingly and I am glad I did. The growing pains we experienced a few weeks back are gone and a new phase is upon us. This parenting is a tricky game of push-me pull-you and I for one do not always see the changes in direction coming but clearly there is no stopping them and that as it turns out is a good thing. The process is much like painting, you start, the colors run, you try madly to see the shapes and values and then you wait, and when it's all dry it looks totally different to what you planned or imagined.

Painting Exercises

I've made a little book of a few of the exercises from my recent painting class. Beyond the paintings I really wanted to test drive issuu. Enjoy.

Juicy

Sketch, June 1/2012

Trish the teacher says make it juicy, and I do because I am obedient and crave acceptance. Some of the other students have trouble with the concept because they can actually paint but my total lack of experience enables me to hear what she is saying and follow it religiously and I don't care how it looks like some of the others because they have a point of reference which I do not. I step away from the painting—9 feet, our commander and chief says—and I am in love with what I see and I think I could do this everyday, I could live on this.

Layering

Painting detail 5/25/12

Last Thursday I burned the red beans I was cooking while a man was rumored to be holding his family hostage a few miles from my house. I imagined at gun-point. On Friday with my skin still smelling of the burned beans I melted down and spent the weekend puffy-eyed and pale while my family simultaneously stroked my hair and avoided me. As scary as my mood swings are to me they must be terrifying to those around me. On Sunday I confided to my dad that I had been having a rough week. He has these rough patches too, we all do. On the bright side I did not hurt myself or take anyone hostage, and after a few rounds of Bananagrams Friday night we were able to laugh about the debacle of the day, the misunderstandings, and I think we may have all experienced teachable moments. I slept so hard that night that I didn't know where I was and on Saturday morning when I visited my stepmother and suddenly found myself trying to hack up a lung like I had TB, my stepmother who is struggling to get her words organized easily uttered "pollen". I agreed because it felt too hard to say no, it's a chunk of grief passing through me, but I feel certain I am going to be okay.

During my painting class on Friday I could feel myself relaxing into the work. The technique seen here involves creating a quick and simple gestural layer followed by subsequent layers of warm and cool colors all applied with tons of water. It's pure magic watching the image emerge.

September Manifesto

Because I didn't have to, I spent the weekend working in my studio. Since January I have been working on a series of self portraits in an effort to give myself a vehicle for experimentation beyond my daily work. I began by taking photos of myself and then making paintings using water colors. In the beginning the paintings were small now they are bigger. I have never been adept with water color but I did it anyway. Each piece has resulted in a satisfying surprise. Needless to say the creative process or the process of making something is mysterious. You never know how things will turn out and often this uncertainty stops me from making anything and based on the number of self help books on the subject I am not the only one. I am still trying to keep connected to my morning pages and the self portrait series has given me some clearly defined parameters in which to make visual work. I bought a bunch of wood mounted Linonelum blocks a few months ago with a mind to create some lino-cuts but the mood never quite struck me until a few days ago. The pieces above are some of the results. I intend to add 2 more layers to the piece which will involve some type. I am not sure how I feel about the cartoon-ish nature of the drawing but I do like the authentically thoughtful facial expression. The main thing about these pieces is to not question them too heavily. I am trying to accept first that they are valid because of their mere existence and I will think more deeply about them once I have a lot of them to consider.

Painted

Because you have all been so good and have not stood too close to me, and have not been too needy in general, I have made a painting. I actually had a strategy with this one but it does not behoove me to explain it to you. Because you are wise enough, you might intuit it. Wise you are and good also. I am calming down nicely, doing some things around the house again, feeling less out of control, noticing how much I like order and putting things into an orderly state, engaging my hands. Whatever it is, a mania, an obsession. I never go too long doing things, allowing myself to be distracted away from my work and other commitments. I designed a whole book in 4 days. That has to count for something. The in-laws came to stay at the weekend and they are such good company I was really cheered up and I have been sewing again. Words are difficult just now and the stories are not stories, rather they are disconnected lines and I wonder if I should just stick to pictures. I swam in the lake yesterday while the dogs thrashed and barked and it felt like how I dream summer should be.

Self Portrait Saturday

Self Portrait, May 28, 2011

Of all the paintings so far, this one best captures my terminal attitude of concern. I generally pass myself off as a mostly laid-back smart alec but this is what the mask conceals. Oh well. Hey, I'm getting my hair cut today, it's way overdue. It's been a year since my last one and my hair has turned into straw in the interim due to the crappy Trader Joe's shampoo I use. I worked on the story today, have been reading Lydia Davis as well which is helpful because her stories are all over the map structurally so I find that helpful. I have never been so good at doing things the conventional way and I find it strange that I need some permission to be non-traditional in my writing. Anyway, it's worth saying that I couldn't pay for the therapeutic effect these paintings afford me. I wonder if the next paintings post hair cut will be sassier? I'll just have to wait and see.

New Sketchbook Cover

Self Portrait April 2011

I carry a notebook around with me all the time, it helps to keep me focused and to remember fleeting ideas. The books I have been using are the ones I was making to sell at the Bellingham Farmers Market several years ago. I had a few in reserve and every time I started a new one I would make a little collage on the inside front cover to sort of launch the whole thing. I am about to start a new one so I decided to make a painting on the cover. The photo is from the Clint Eastwood High Plains Drifter photo tribute I did one sunny afternoon in April. My dad gave me this very nice gray poncho shawl thing with fringe and it made me think of Clint, except with green grass and dandelions. What I am most excited about is seeing what happens to the painting as it gets worn out as the sketchbook gets used. Painting on the gray board was a challenge and I switched back to the old play set of watercolors. The weekend is over and I think we are back to rain on Monday. Osama Bin Laden has been killed and his body taken into American custody, a strange description. I am not jumping up and down. So much blood has been shed, so many dollars spent and we're still no closer to a peaceful society, maybe it just isn't in our nature.

Unfinished

Self Portrait in progress 04/14/11

Here's the latest self portrait I am working on. I have switched to larger paper and am taking a slower approach. In the beginning I would paint the thing in one sitting. This piece I drew last week with 2H lead which is harder and leaves less information on the paper. I finally sat down and started to paint this morning after I dropped Pearl at school. Hopefully I will be able to add more color to this one, baby steps. When I went to bed last night the moon was out, casting shadows in the yard and I slept well and had some good dreams which is always a pleasure. Today is sunny and cool a stark change from the snow we woke up to yesterday. I took the dog for a walk on the road and am now settling in to my office to do my client work. And so it goes another day.

Self Portrait Tuesday

Here's my painting for today. It's a bit wonky as I painted it from a photo taken with my phone. Generally I print these photos out but last night I just used my phone. It was challenging, the photo had almost no color and I am still struggling with the paint in tubes. I also need some new brushes. I still have those feelings as I drop off to sleep that I have forgotten to reset some kind of alarm that will prevent me from dying, and I wake feeling disoriented my lap covered in books, pen in hand. I am trying to break my bedtime TV habit choosing instead to make notes about the following day, further efforts to keep myself on task. It seems to be helping my generalized anxiety. This is a busy week culminating in a busy weekend, so off I go.

I am reminded of my mother who never slept in but at the end of her life in her methadone haze she would sleep late. I would look in on her and on one particularly sunny February morning she admitted to secretly enjoying the laziness of sleeping in. Today I admit to really enjoying being stripped bare by these paintings, making them and posting them and not worrying about what anyone thinks about them, it's delicious.

Covering my mouth

There's a message here but you'll have to figure it out for yourselves. The new proper water colors I bought are challenging and I seem to lean toward brown and black, too much color is difficult so I am sticking to just tones and shades. The paint is vibrant and a little goes a long way. My week is busy, meetings, work, commitments. Things are changing again in our domestic realm which seems appropriate as it is spring. I missed my mothers death anniversary this year but I did have a great dream about her now that I think about it and it was nice to see her. I worked outside all day yesterday so the yard looks a little better which makes it easier for me to work indoors all day, and as usual those closest to me continue to nourish and ground me.

It arrived!

Mail experiment #2 was a success. Mr Bothman shown here, received his postcard today. It all happened whilst I drank beer with the Americano pal Nick and his new paramour Suzee who I approve of highly (not that Nick needs my approval). All in all it was a Saturday to remember. Doesn't Mr Bothman look surprised and charmed?

Mail Experiment No. 2

Dear Mr. Bothman,
As it seems that my earlier postcard to you has not arrived I decided today to make you another one. I went to your Facebook page and stole a picture of you. Please don't be creeped out by this, it's not as if I snuck into your house and cut a lock of your hair. As far as I know you wear your hair quite short making this type of thing difficult. Lucky for me, you seem to favor pictures of yourself that feature your outfit more than your face. I am just learning to paint so this makes it easier on me. A plaid tie is so much easier to create than a nose. I have decided I will include your zip code and 4 digit helper number on this postcard in hopes that the hapless postal carrier can more easily direct the card to you. I honestly think my hand painted Frankfurter is magnet-ed to some civil servants fridge as I type this instead of yours, it makes me mad and sad too. With all this geo-locating and the like I had hoped the poorly addressed card would present a personal challenge to the faceless carrier who's route it ended up on. Apparently not. So here goes, I will post this portrait of you tomorrow and hopefully soon enough it will arrive at your domicile and you and your small dog can enjoy it together.

Yours sincerely,
RMS

Wood work

I burned one tank of gas on the first day, after the boys helped me get the saw started. It sputtered and smoked and we decided, the three of us, that the cause was old gas. I haven't used the saw for a year since I knocked the chain off new years day 2010. I never even tried to put it back on even though it's a simple task. I just threw up my trembling arms. I can't remember the last time I filled the gas can. So on Saturday I ran through one tank of gas which took about twenty minutes and that made enough wood to fill 3 wheelbarrows of split pieces which I stacked perpendicular to the other piles in the carport siting increased pile stability. I stacked carefully and thoughtfully thinking about how it will feel next fall to use this perfectly seasoned dry firewood. On Sunday I went through two tanks of gas and my arms felt less shakey but I did notice that I really screw my face up while I use the saw, concentrating takes brow furrowing and a little shoulder tension. I should wear chaps but I don't own any. I wear ear protection and glasses. I try to be careful, knowing the saw could rip through my jeans and into my flesh. I cut a lot of small limbs from the giant maples upper branches that are now accessible on the ground and started a new pile of boughs so I could move around more easily as I bucked up the logs. Stepping carefully, avoiding tripping on branches. The tops of the cedars are worst, they have tons of springy branches and they are tougher to spit, the maul bounces off them sometimes, wasting my efforts. My biceps and upper back are stiff but amazingly after splitting, loading and stacking about 5 wheelbarrow loads I feel a bit stronger today and so this is my plan. Today I will try to saw through 3 tanks of gas and load maybe 8 wheelbarrow loads. The work felt endless but I think as my strength increases it will feel less overwhelming. In between I made a few paintings.