Check It Off the Bucket List

   Coming from the hippie generation of large outdoor rock concerts and street festivals, I have always enjoyed browsing the offerings of other artists at art festivals. My favorites include the Tempe Festival of the Arts in Arizona, and the Anacortes Arts Festival in Washington among many others. And I have secretly envied the select group of artists chosen to participate. The selection process involves not only the application fee, but a sampling of your work, an artist statement and photos of your beautifully appointed booth. Add to that the contract the artist signs which promises to have inventory available throughout the duration of the festival. Needless to say, many artists are turned away and many never begin the process.
   Until recently, I fell into the latter group in spite of my desire to one day be one of those productive and brave artists. Imagine my surprise when I was chosen to participate in the Holiday Festival of the Arts here in Bellingham. In a community of gifted artists, this festival represents some of the best and is where I have purchased gifts each December.

   So come by the Honor Your Journey booth nestled near the center of the building. I'm offering affordably-priced, hand-painted, wire-bound journals, inspirational greeting cards and photo prints. And the ARTformations (Inspiration-in-a-Bag) are being offered for the first time. For those of you who have followed this blog have heard the idea, but now you can try them out.

Both Sets of ARTformations displayed at the Holiday Festival of the Arts

Close-up of ARTformations with suction hook

Celebrating Princess Be-Right-Back

Today the oldest of my younger nieces, Princess Be-Right-Back,  turned 18 years old. Happy birthday, precious girl!

I can still remember exactly where I was when my brother, Ironman, shared the news that he and Teacher were expecting a baby. I must confess, I don't remember the pregnancy announcements of any of the rest of my nieces or nephews, as much as I love them all. Weird how memory works. But I can clearly remember the excitement I felt standing in my office holding the telephone. I was so happy. And I couldn't wait to meet this new little addition to our family. And I can still remember the sense of  warmth and welcome I felt.

She is a gifted girl, woman now. She's many of the things I want to be when I grow up (if I ever really to do that)...
She's no push-over.
She's thinker whose strong convictions guide her behavior.
She's an artist with an eye for  powerful composition.
She's a fearlessly idealistic leader and a gentle servant to the needy.
She's unflaggingly persistent in her pursuit of excellence.

I'm excited to see where this next branch of life takes her.

  She's an athlete who's been kicking and pulling through life's waters most of her young life,

relying on her
strong  determination to finish any course before her

and an attitude of  kindness and grace. 

I flatter myself that in some ways I can see my younger self in her: a hopeful, strong and secure me.

If I could give her advice it would be to hold onto herself and her core of truth, regardless what life maight throw her way.

To glean wisdom from observation as well as experience.

Welcome to the adventure of being an adult.

Happy birthday to you, Be-Right-Back. 

With much love from Auntie Jen 

So Far So Good

This past week I finally finished the load of journals I had waiting for paper and binding. Not counting the ones that have already found new homes, I have completed 43. Some of them I really like and some of them I fear will go unloved by anyone unless I do a little something more to them. I have, however, decided to wait to do that. Figure I can always use them myself as I journal daily.

Someone asked me recently if I had plans to start a business. Funny thing is that while the answer to that question is actually no, it seems I have started one. I've gotten my Tax I.D. number and the Reseller's Permit required in my state. I have a logo. I have begun to purchase supplies wholesale. I have a web presence. Weird.

All this started simply because I believe every human being has the innate ability to create.  My personal study over the last decade and the research of others more knowing than I support that belief. My original plan was to simply honor my journey by providing tools for people to nurture their personal creativity. To honor my journey by sharing the path I used to get where I am right now. And, voila! A business was born before I realized what had happened.

And strangely, God (or the Universe or whatever name you use) has been supportive. The other week while wandering the Farmer's Market, I had a conversation with a woman who creates wonderful journals from old childrens' book covers. She asked if I would have a use for some cut matte that a photographer had given her. As that is what I use as the base for my journal covers, I was thrilled. I was, however, shocked when I picked it up the following week. A heavy box of perfectly-sized, pre-cut matte board enough board for 144 journals! SCORE!

Synchronicity? Oh, yeah. I think I'm on the right path. And the journey continues.

Playing in Photoshop

This certainly isn't new information for everyone, but I just realized that every piece of art I create can become a new piece through the magic of the computer. I had already figured out that every image captured with my camera was fair game to design with, but the concept of re-entering  art made from camera images back into the computer for artistic transformation has just hit me like a bag of hammers!

For example, let's begin with the following print

recreated to be a compilation of a fun, young couple's engagement photo session using hand-carved stamps and watercolor pencil.

With just a little bit of tweaking in Photoshop  it can be transformed into something like this:

And with an addition of one piece of hand-painted paper from my extensive paper stash,

which can also be altered by computer, multiplying my paper stash to  truly monumental size,

I am left with a new image..

...which could become countless other images with the a few simple mouse clicks.

The combinations are endless. Yikes! So many choices, if only I enjoyed making virtual messes as much as I enjoy getting my hands messy.  Did I mention I really enjoy getting my hands messy?
Ah, the limitations of my tactile and kinesthetic ways.

Replacing Mona Lisa

I went to visit my family this spring and while taking out the trash, I discovered a treasure. In the dumpster. Someone had either redecorated or possibly evicted someone with Pop Art tastes, disposing of his graphic interpretation of Mona Lisa done in oranges and poison greens. The canvas was probably 36x40. SCORE!! I was going to be in town 3 weeks and was beginning to miss studio messes. Unfortunately, no one I knew in town had any painting supplies. However, I did plan a visit to my friend, The Visionary, in a town 3 hours away and I thought she might at least have some house paint I could prept the canvas with. I dragged Mona Lisa along on the visit and returned a week later with a relatively covered canvas ready for my use. But if you look closely, you might be able to see the 4 famed faces I brushed over.

As I had no paints, I determined to work out a shape of a large butterfly using torn newspaper to fill in the negative space. Butterflies are my mother's passion and the final piece would stay behind and hang over the door to the patio.

Once a vague butterfly shape  had been collaged onto the prepared canvas, Mom and I went through her wrapping paper stash, pulling colors she prefers for her house. We also went to the craft store and purchased pack of tissue paper. From this found and purchased paper, a butterfly emerged.

The final touches included some stray tissue and a meandering flight line.

Life is Good

Abraham Lincoln said,
"Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be."

Saw this sign in a shop last week...

Preview

BE HAPPY TODAY

A Little Bit of Whimsey

Inspired by Giselle's shirt the other day, I decided to do a few covers with colorful flowers.

My first interpretation with a new medium, oil sticks, yielded  the above. And remembering that every piece of art has its ugly stage, I moved on, creating a couple of graphic floral covers and coordinating striped backs.

The oil sticks go on creamy and blend beautifully with fingers. The colors were rich and bright. I was in hog heaven!

I'm thinking this will be my new favorite medium, but who knows? Later this week I'll be working with glazes and molding paste. I do tend to be fickle and love whichever medium I'm with...

Studio Expansion

After the incident yesterday with oil paint sticks and the carpet, the Professor has decided to put down a canvas drop cloth in the living room to match its twin in the studio/dining-room. Seems he doesn't trust me not to drop oil sticks or their shavings onto the carpet again. He's usually right about these things anyway. I'm just grateful our carpet is nearly the same color as the drop cloth, at least initially. I suppose if we owned this place it wouldn't be such a big deal.

In preparation for both the Fire Belles Christmas and the Allied Arts Christmas Festival (yes, I got in!), my living-room has begun to look like a factory. A table liberated from storage has taken up residence behind a chair providing an extra surface above and storage beneath for the  mountains of paper needed to fill my ever-increasing collection of journals. A tower of 12x12 canvasses are snugged in under there as well.

Dining table now has a 2nd tier for drying created with an extra table top and glass vases.

 And I am daily gaining stamina by simply showing up and playing in said factory. I can't wait to get started each morning at the drafting table.

And I fall into bed and sleep like a baby every night.Life is good.

Journals

Thanks to Julia Cameron and The Artist's Way, I journal in bed with my coffee most mornings. If you haven't yet read this classic creativity-boosting book, I urge you to do so this summer. You should be able to find it online or in your local used bookstore. Reading it transformed my life and I'd be surprised if it didn't do the same for you.

Anyway I dutifully write 3 pages longhand while sipping my morning coffee. Due to this practice and my basically frugal nature, I've been making my own journals for years. Originally I covered unlined composition books with pretty paper or fabric. But they would only last about a month and would not open flat the way a spiral-bound book would. So when I discovered the  Zutter Bind It All, I was hooked.  I've been cranking these wire-bound journals out for myself ever since.

Anyway, along with Artformation Cards, I've been making one-of-a-kind journals in a variety of sizes for sale/gifts lately. It obviously makes more sense for me to work in these smaller formats considering the current size of my studio, but I refuse to be completely sensible. I keep at least one larger piece in progress as well.

So I plan to have some reasonably-priced journals in various sizes available for some of the Holiday Boutiques this year. I'm thinking they'd make a great gift. I'll keep you posted as to where I'll be. If you are interested in seeing more, let me know. In the meantime, I'm having a blast playing with them.

Growing Truth & Creativity

Maybe five years ago I got an idea for something to assist people in visualizing truth in their lives and birthing (or growing) their dormant creativity. The idea came from the countless sticky notes I had on my bathroom mirror. I believe  many of us spend  more time applying negative labels to ourselves than we do positive.  After spending a lot of time working to replace my own negative labels with truth, I thought perhaps others might be able to benefit from from using these little tools. I call them Artformation Cards.

A set consists of 52 drilled cards with original art on both sides and a small suction hook. The set is designed to focus on one card per week. The weekly card can be affixed wherever would be most helpful. Mine, of course, are affixed to the bathroom mirror, but they could go anywhere. On one side of the cards has affirmations on it, one for each week of the year to be used in any order desired.

On the reverse side is a different activity to improve creativity.  Again, one card for each week. The activities are aimed at the Not-Yet-Practicing or Undiscovered Artist, but can easily be adapted for the already functioning artist.

It is my belief that no one is exempt from the ability to function creatively. And any life will be enhanced through creative growth. Thinking outside-the-box is a highly valued skill no matter what your occupation. Thinking creatively is another name for thinking outside-the-box. Artformation Cards are a tool for assisting one to experience the world creatively.

Sets will be available soon.

Backwards Remembering

Another week has come and gone. For better or worse, it's over. So I'll joining the Gypsy Mama today with a Five Minute Friday posting.



You can join her too, easily. Just go on over to her site each Friday and get the prompt. Then finish what she gives you in 5 minutes. No editing,  it is what it is.  Post it to her site. That's it.
Oh, and let the person who told you about it know you're in. The prompt today is "Backwards."

Set the timer and...GO!
I've been doing a lot of looking backwards and remembering since I got my "commission" to honor my journey. Some of that has been enjoyable, such as seeing how much I have bloomed since I became willing to fearlessly (most of the time) move forward into the fresh life I have today. Looking at the difficult obstacles I have overcome and the lies I have replaced with truth has given me a sense of the possible. 

All that is a good and soothing kind of backward looking.

However, this week my experiences of looking backward have been accompanied with something new. A sorrow for the way I have been shaped. Perhaps the wondering of who I would have been if I had lived up to those idealistic ideas I had in my youth. Would I have been different? Perhaps a more judgmental than tolerant soul?

 I suppose only God can see that one clearly.

DING!!

Motherhood Should Come with...

I'm joining the Gypsy Mama today with a Five Minute Friday posting.

The rules are to finish the sentence she gives you in 5 minutes. No editing, just stream it out.  Post it to her site. That's it. Oh, and let the person who told you about it know you're in.

Set the timer and here we go.

      Motherhood should come with a time machine. That way a new mom could travel into the future and see the gifts and talents this precious baby will have and not waste a minute trying to get him to do interpretive dance. Not waste any time on requiring them to learn to do finite math when the basics will suffice. Going to the future would make it easy to know how to pick your battles.
     And speaking of battles, a time machine would reveal which friends were really a negative influence and which among them were truly worthy of spending time with that precious child you've been given to watch over, train and care for. You could go forward to the time that first person wounded your child and flatten them! Or you could see how harmful your current habits might actually be and stop them. Get help. Whatever it took. And sooner.
   And then, of course, with a time machine, you could also travel back into time to re-experience the wonder of them sleeping safely in your arms. Or the comfort of a hug from that tiny, trusting soul brings. Or remember his shining smile. His pride at tying his shoes. His first tuxedo. Those road trips, just the two of you, exploring. But then, perhaps that is what grandchildren are for?
Ding! Done.
Motherhood is holding on...

and letting go...

I love you, son.

Get On With the Rescued Life

I navigated my childhood, a world ruled by a steroid-powered, asthmatic mother and an um-medicated, bi-polar father. by becoming adept at reading body language. Becoming invisible at the twitch of impending "Roid Rage" or keeping an encouraging expression in the face of manic rantings became  well-honed skills. At the ripe old age of 25 months, I was painfully aware of the dangerous atmosphere of my household. So my little sister's arrival as a helpless infant gave my life a higher purpose. It catapulted me into the role of mentor and defender of the weak.

I became adept at monitoring her growing abilities and taught her what my young mind saw as the skills necessary to succeed in our household. For example, as soon as I saw she could do it, I taught her how to grasp bars of confinement and climb out of her crib. Years later I taught her to drive, sharing with her the power of automotive escape. Most of her life I parented her as my own and was given positive reinforcement for being a thoughtful and loving sister. I honestly thought loving someone meant parenting them.

Childhood survival skills shape our lives. They can become the stick  driving us to success or the chains keeping us anchored to failure. My toxic combination of skills kept me imprisoned until my fifties: the habit of using the smallest body language cue to guide my responses, the necessity of being aware of and defending the weak even at my own peril and pattern of denying my own needs in order to meet the perceived needs of others. These skills were what made me a much-desired team member, who was incapable of defend herself while also being an incredibly arrogant, pushy person.

I was in my fifties before I realized my helpful demeanor actually belittled others. Talk about a wake up call with a slap in the face! The parenting I was lavishly doling out to others was really really something I was sorely lacking. I had to realize that I am the weak who needs to lean on the strength of God. And much to my surprise, the God position was already occupied by One stronger and kinder than I!  I needed to pay attention to internal cues for my own defects and quit taking the inventory of others. (Ouch!) And that I needed to get on with the business of actually living this rescued life I've been given. Quit the blaming and making excuses and let the adventure begin!

Wasted Days and Wasted Nights

I'd be a remarkably accomplished woman if  I  had I gotten over  obsession with my weight earlier in life. It's amazing how much time I filled with worrying over how much I weighed, what size clothing I wore, or whether I looked fat. I bring this up to simply remind us all that how we spend our days is truly how we spend our lives.  If I had painted or drawn or sewed or danced or kayaked or walked or written or sung or basically done ANYTHING for the same number of years, I would be an expert. However, the time spent has left me with nothing. And I have no one but myself to blame. Bother.

I Feel the Most Loved When...

Today I'm joining Lisa-Jo aka gypsy mama, for her Friday project

She picks a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes. The requirements to play along with me on this are:

• Write for only 5 minutes. (I set a timer to keep me honest.)
• No editing. Simply let the words flow as they will. (This is my biggest challenge since only perfect words/sentences are normally permitted to survive.)
• Thank the person who inspired you to play along. (Thank you again, Sara.)

Here we go:

  I feel the most loved when the Professor comes home and  finds me working. There I am up to my elbows in paint, surrounded by piles of cut and torn painted papers, the table literally covered with jars, tubes, brushes and an assortment of mark makers, no dinner cooking in the kitchen, paint smock thrown over yesterday's paint splashed jeans and my hair knotted wildly on my head.  

And he stands at the door to the studio, smiling at my concentration until I notice him, and says " This makes me so happy. I love it when you're like this."


Ding!

Sketchbook on the Road

My sketchbook has left the Brooklyn Art Museum and is on it's way with just under 10,000 other fantastic sketchbooks. Any of you living in/near Austin, Texas can check out my sketchbook (and of course all the others) at:

Austin Museum of Art
March 12
Located in the Community Room
823 Congress Ave
Austin, TX

29th St Ballroom at Spider House
March 13
2906 Fruth St
Austin, TX 78705

Living Art

I read this line today over at The Gypsy Mama today "I am His art. And with Him we make art together. Living art. Life. And only because of His grace." And my heart sang. I was reminded that THIS is what my life is about. Being His art. I've often said that art saves lives. It did mine.

But the thought that we are ourselves art is an inspiration. Certainly makes me edit self talk. And causes me to remember to be true to the created me, the real me. Embrace the collection of unique, quirky qualities that together are me. A work of art.

You are, too. You are a work of art.

When I Look in the Mirror I See...

I realize I didn't post anything yesterday for Sara's YOU CREATE yesterday, but that's due to a super secret project I've been working on with The Model. Nevertheless, today is Friday and the new prompt for writing is up on The Gypsy Momma. The rule is no editing and write for 5 minutes. Did I say no editing? That said, here's the prompt: When I look in the mirror I see...

Here goes:

Wondering about honesty here... I used to be a woman who avoided mirrors except to put on the war paint that made venturing into the day a possibility. And when I looked, I never looked below the neck. Yep, I'm one of those girls who was pelted daily with that awful sentence, " You have such a pretty face..."

Of course, I always filled in the other part of the statement. The unspoken but understood part that was ..."if only you weren't so fat." Being fat colored my entire life with drab and gloom and hopelessness. I was not a girl who went on a diet and was successful. Instead I was the girl who lived her life on an eternal diet. Ask my friends. They'd tell you.

A few years ago, I realized that whatever I look like, whatever the number on the scale or the dress label, is pretty darn wonderful. Regardless of the opinion of others who continue to harshly judge the appearances of others, I refuse to participate. I have strength and health and practice daily telling myself how lovely I am.

Wow. That was uncomfortably honest. And I suppose that's the point of the exercise. The operative word in the last sentence is practice. Some days it feels painfully untrue. But I bet my brother, The Ironman, has days when he doesn't feel at the top of his game. And that hasn't stopped his daily habit of practice. So I keep on practicing, too.

Five Minute Fridays

My friend Sara, aka Gitzen Girl experimented with Lisa-Jo aka The Gypsy Mama's challenge to write, UNEDITED, for 5 minutes. Each Friday Lisa-Jo posts a prompt and you write whatever comes up from it for ONLY 5 minutes. This challenge, just like Sara's YOU CREATE challenge struck a chord with me.

Today's prompt is Five Years Ago.
The timer is set, so here goes:

Who could have imagined that life would look so different for me. Five years ago, my parents still lived within an easy drive. I had only two young grandchildren and I was working hard at my photography business. The Professor was unemployed and I was providing the small income we got by on. And I was slogging through therapy, having discovered my misery could be changed through hard work on myself.

I now have four lovely grandchildren and a new daughter-in-law. My parents are now in the loving care of my sister, the Fashionista, a long-ish plane ride away. I now spend most days making messes in my art studio since physical challenges brought my business to a screaming halt. And the Professor is, well, now --- The Professor.

RING-G-G-G

Yikes, that was more difficult than I imagined due to my challenges with the passing of time! Hopefully, next Friday will be easier.
Thanks for dropping by.

Despite Our Plans

Today is Thursday and again time to share with Sara over at Gitzen Girl what I've created this week. Although I've been working on a number of projects, the one I'm choosing to share happened quickly and without plan. Last weekend I thought I'd prepare a canvas while I was finishing my current piece. One way I like to add depth to my backgrounds is to add some black gesso in places without thinking too much about it. Once that layer is completely dry, I repeat the process with some Golden Titanium White and some Golden Titan Buff, allowing the canvas to dry completely between color application.

That said, the first coat, the black gesso, was drying on a canvas last Saturday when the Handsome Ginger and the Model stopped by. The Handsome Ginger stopped dead in his tracks in front of the drying canvas and declared it wonderful just as it was.


I disagreed strongly, explaining the plans I yet had for it. But, as usual, his opinion won out. As he stood there gazing at it, he did allow that I could throw a "sploosh" of blue and red ("primary colors only, thank you") across it. I lobbied for a dribble of yellow (primary, of course) as well. After the Professor and his visitors left the house, I set up a "throwing station" in the studio. Ringing the space with plastic, I had a lovely time making the final mess for him...


These days I truly love making messes, and this one now hangs happily in the their home. I called it Youth because it semed so certain of itself, so definitely black and white. Delightful how our creations take on personalities of their own despite of our well laid plans, isn't it?



How have you honored your own creative gift today? Go for it, my friend. You've got something in there just crying to be born!