Out of the Darkness, Germination

In December, it does help to remember that a lot of great things need no sunlight to germinate. I see seeds in some of my recent digital patterns, and so this is where I start the next 100 days.

Today I joined the "100 Day Project" creative community, lead by the lovely and lively Michigan artist, Cathy Benda. We met in July at the Grand Marais Art Colony. Last July proved to be one of my most productive art times, and now, I need some of the same mojo. In April,  the two-person exhibit, Threshold, that I share with Laura Grisamore is going up. There is a lot to do before the end of April.

I struggle with lack of sunlight during this time of the year, so when I read more information about the "Solstice to Equinox--Out of the Darkness Into the Light" project that started yesterday, I decided this is just what I need now! Taken from the100dayproject.com, this, right here, is what convinced me to commit:

"The 100DayProject is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days... Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment.  Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being."

Week 1, so far:
Maybe memories of summer get me through this time of year. The last few weeks, I have been really into and making more of the Summer Patterns series, digital designs made from portions of my painting Between Summer Warmth & Summer Quiet. 

December 20: I ordered two of my pattern designs from Spoonflower.com to be printed on wallpaper sample pieces. Who knows where that may lead, but we will see how they print.

December 22: Signed up for 100 Day Project, Out of the Darkness Into the Light, and now, writing a blogpost.

Between Warmth & Summer Quiet, 2016, acrylic paint, 30" x 24"

Grateful for My People

Last February, Carrie, Artist Strong blogger and artist interviewed me. Today, I am looking back at the response to the question, What inspires you?

"I need words and ideas. And trust. And stories with texture that follow childlike curiosities. And brave color. And subtle earthy scents. And the freedom to be in that space where I do not worry about money, or the history of art, or the legacy of my life, or pleasing anyone."

I was in that space in July when most of these recent paintings came out. Today, I want to add, I need people. I need my people, who understand and celebrate the things mentioned above. Yesterday and today I am especially grateful for the people who inspire me, and others who encourage and support. If you're lucky, you will have a few people who do all of that, and you will do the same for them. I am finally at the stage in life when I have learned to really appreciate those people, and not worry so much about the opinions of the rest.

My word for 2016 is FREE. Like I said in January, this one large word/idea, like a block of basswood, begins the new year with a promise. If I work at it with both wild abandon and careful hewning, something from within it (or me) will be set free. 

Especially grateful for this guy!

How to get ready for your own art reception

1. Dig out all of your black dresses. 

2. Stare at them. Ask, what would Georgia do?

3. Grab the one that has a retro vibe, not too mainstream, but won't scare your mother. 

4. Put it on. Tell yourself that it isn't edgy enough, but agree with yourself that being an artist AND a public school art teacher is your excuse. 

5. Make up, not too much like The Cure, but a little nod to the 80s is okay. Skip the lipstick. 

6. Hair, cannot look too coiffed, must look like you were distracted by other things. Absolutely do not look like someone Axl Rose would hit on. 

7. Step into dressy but comfy shoes. Wish you were close personal friends with Sarah Jessica Parker. 

8. Oops. Overdid it. Look like I am ready for parent/teacher conferences at a private school. 

Pushing Through the Web

"I came from a family of repairers. The spider is
a repairer. If you bash into the web of a spider, 
she doesn't get mad. She weaves and repairs it."
Louise Bourgeois

So Louise, what if I am stuck in your web? You
were brilliant and bold, but I am making my own
way during a different time, now. Or, what if I
bash into and destroy my own work, because I
do get mad?

This light orange and deep blue painting started
and then abruptly stopped. I sit and wait in the
space-in-between, telling myself to trust the
process. Today, I am looking to my nature
photos, old work, and new friend the Layout
app to push me forward.

Feeling caught in a space or content in a space
are often so close. But, I need to keep pushing
through. And, making. And, repairing. And,
knowing when to listen and learn from the art
masters. And, knowing when to blast through
into making my own history. 

When Wolves Enter

Recent 8"x 8" right panel of a diptych, in-progress.

Much to the excitement and agitation of our
dog, Wimpy "The Protector", we now have
wolves in our rural area. I mean, close! We can
hear them howling on our land. They are most
likely having a feast on the many deer who have 
been very comfortable here. For the 17 years we
have lived here, this is a first.

Knowing how the wolf population is increasing,
it isn't a surprise, but this is a synchronicity that
an artist can not ignore. Wolves entered my
work just a few months before they entered our
land.

Fox have been on our land and in my work for
many years, but the curious nature-intimating-
art and art-imitating-nature event is that the fox
left my work around the time that the wolf
entered. Coincidentally, the same thing happens
in nature, when the wolves move in the fox are
no longer around. Or to be more precise, the
coyotes often enter in-between the fox and
wolf, which did happen on our land, but not in
my work.
 
The coyote are in the space/time-in-between,
the ones pushed out by the wolves and then in
return push out the fox. And, in-between spaces
are a theme in my paintings recently. Maybe
coyotes need to be examined further in my
paintings. Or maybe I just need to shut up and
paint, and see what happens in our woods next.
  

Is Originality Free?

The act of viewing and reading art & poetry 
is usually pretty free and easy, but is making art 
so free? I don't mean the cost of supplies or the 
investment of time to make it, although those are 
issues. My poet friend and sometimes collaborator 
LouAnn Shepard Muhm's recent blog post has 
me thinking about the cost of putting your work 
out there.

Detail of recent painting in-progress.

No more free-bees, only details of my 

paintings before my August 2016 exhibit, 

'Spaces In Between' at Great River Arts in 

Little Falls, Mn. My word for 2016 is FREE, 

in its many implications...

Detail of recent painting in-progress.

To put truly new work out there is daunting,
and few do. In her post Muhm says, "And then 
you will go back to your comfortable life, to think 
your comfortable thoughts, to bite your tongue 
when you think it is prudent, and to answer 
your 'crazy' dream with silent admonitions to 
be realistic and to focus on achievable goals." 
Next, I cracked open the new book Originals:
How Non-Conformists Move the World, 
and Adam Grant states, "The last time you had 
an original idea, what did you do with it? 
Although America is a land of individuality and 
unique self-expression, in search of excellence 
and in fear of failure, most of us opt to fit in 
rather than stand out." Grant does go onto say 
that the most successful originals among us 
"know in their hearts that failing would yield 
less regret than failing to try." Are Muhm and 
Grant conspiring? Okay, okay. I will get to work, 
and free myself to make bigger messes. I won't 
be like the others who do not dare.

Both Muhm and Grant, pose a challenge. Have 
an idea or something to say? Do something 
about it, but do not expect it to be easy. One 
thing I know for sure is that when your art is 
shared, it really doesn't belong to only you 
anymore. It is out there, and people do with 
it what people do. 

In 2016 FREE us to not know, but trust anyway.

Choosing one word isn't an easy task, yet that is
what I assign myself to do every new year now.
BRAVE in 2014. COLOR in 2015. This one large
word/idea, like a block of raw basswood, begins
the new year with a promise. If I will work at it
with both wild abandon and careful hewning,
something from within it will be set free. 

Unfinished acrylic painting started in December. 24"x 30"
Free me to not know, but trust anyway.

I need words, and ideas. And trust. And stories
with texture that follow childlike curiosities.
And brave color. And subtle earthy scents. And
the freedom to be in the space where I do not
worry about money, or the history of art, or the
legacy of my life, or pleasing anyone.

So, you see, my word for 2016 has to be FREE.

That is the raw material I need right now. Free-
dom to push and pull, and dig out the weeds to
expose something new. I can not be afraid to get
these hands dirty and make a little mess. I know
that I can not be too afraid of what will be
excavated, because by now at age 45 soon and
after all the bravery of 2014 and the color of
2015, I know it is much scarier and messier to
hide or deny what is within us. Free us to trust
and not always know.

Thanks to the work and words of artist Kiyomi
Iwata in the article Always Unfolding by Joyce 
Lovelace in American Craft magazine, for 
jolting me out of a winter funk and shaking 
my 2016 word FREE free. 

Joyce Lovelace reports, "Curiosity, creativity, 
and optimism guide Kiyomi Iwata in the evolu-
tion of her life and her art... Her artmaking is
fluid and free."  "I am totally open," she 
[Iwata] says, "And because I'm open, I can
float. For me, that is an exciting process in
itself."