6.11.2017

Life is Beautiful. Then, Messy. Then, Beautiful.








Life is beautiful. Then, messy. Then, beautiful. We cannot be so afraid of the next mess that we don't appreciate the beauty, now. Art is my response to the mess, and to the beauty.

Each of these doors was painted in memory of someone, and the color of each was selected by a loved one who knew them best, a color that reminds them of that person. I painted each vintage door the chosen color, and then with some information about each person, created a thoughtful, hopeful mixed-media painting, with most of the larger metaphorical imagery at eye-level and the painted surreal doors incorporated into the painting. Half way through the painting process, I took photos, created a digital pattern, and ordered the pattern to be printed on wall paper. Next, I continued to paint, when the wallpaper arrived it was attached and integrated into the overall painted design on the door, with some final painting on top of some of the wall paper. Since the pattern was created before the painting was finished, the wallpaper patterns are mysterious hidden images within the painting, resembling the painting, but hidden underneath the final layers of paint.

5.02.2017

THRESH. HOLD.


Currently, 7 of my paintings, 8 pattern designs on fabric, 1 pattern on wallpaper, 5 mixed-material paintings on vintage doors, and a video, are on display in the 2-person show THRESH. HOLD. at the Great River Arts Main Gallery in Little Falls, Minnesota. I am honored to share this show with friend and amazing photographer Laura Grisamore of Lauralee Photography, and pleased with how our work complements each other! 
Just after installing the the show.
Between Us and Morning Light painting, lower right.
Also, the two fabric designs that were created from that painting.

Sheila's Flames, mixed-materials on vintage door.
Right, Dream Dots pattern on wallpaper.

Just after installing the show.
Painting on bottom left, Between Summer Warmth & Quiet.
Top, Summer Strata pattern on fabric created from the painting.
Bottom right, Laura Grisamore's digital photo fusion.

Artist Statement, Tiffany Besonen

For me, creating metaphor is a process of rediscovering how everything and everyone is connected. My work for THRESH. HOLD. is diverse in materials, but all deeply connected.


Doors in my work began during a time of grieving for our family. As I photographed, drew, and began to paint doors and thresholds, I discovered that the 'space in between' of a threshold isn't inside or out, here or there, but a connection (or division) of the two. Later, I rediscovered a photo that our daughter had taken from behind my husband and me, as we overlooked a lake. All of the paintings on canvas in this exhibit began with this visual format, our silhouettes and the space in between. The watery shape in between us has intrigued me for years; like a threshold, that space connects us, yet reveals our differences. Repeating that visual format in all seven of these paintings, freed me to be more spontaneous with color, line, shape, and motion.


When the ‘space in between’ paintings were done, I photographed details, and digitally created patterns. Eight of these patterns have been printed on fabric and one on wallpaper by spoonflower.com for this exhibit. I have always wanted to design fabrics! There is something soothing about patterns, and something especially uplifting about colorful patterns on soft fabrics. Creating these patterns digitally has been a great lesson for me in giving up control; beauty is often revealed in the most spontaneous and unexpected ways. The short film Thresh. Hold. Release. became an extension of that lesson in spontaneity, with the contemplative and hopeful music of Mark Hartung (1971-2015) completing the film.

My THRESH. HOLD. work culminated with the five mixed-material, free-standing doors. I am giving each one of these doors to a different family, in memory of someone they have lost. Each door began when I asked the family to choose a color that reminded them of their loved one, and from there I began painting on the vintage doors without much of a plan, only positive thoughts and memories. Half way through the painting process, I took photos and made the digital patterns that became the patterned wallpaper on each door. For me, these doors have become celebrations. When we find ourselves on the threshold of loss or change, may we be kind to ourselves; may we accept what we can not control and somehow find freedom, beauty, and hope in that.

1.31.2017

Patterns of Curiosity


Dear relentless child, 
Stay curious. Keep questioning, everything. You are not bad; you
just need to find things out for yourself. Dogs will bite. The coffee
will burn. You will make messes, and some adults will frown. Still,
stay curious.

Recent digital patterns made from portions of a painting.


1.18.2017

What grows and what kills curiosity? Hint, you.


What kills my curiosity? 
  1. Being busy. Avoiding or not making time and space to think, practice, or play.
  2. Avoiding challenges.
  3. Only skimming and scanning, and not thinking about what I read and see.
  4. Worrying about the results and not enjoying the process.
  5. Not writing down my thoughts, reactions, and questions.
  6. Not sketching ideas.
  7. Not listening to or having time for interesting people.
  8. Keeping thoughts to myself. Or, wasting time with people who do not listen.
  9. Not trying anything new, or not looking at routines and habits in a new way.
  10. Not asking questions. Or, trying to find answers too quickly.
  11. Missing connections, or ignoring them.
  12. Repeatedly ignoring those fascinations that keep me wondering.
  13. Me.


What grows my curiosity? 
  1. Making time to think, and space to practice and play.
  2. Taking on new challenges.
  3. Reading and intensely observing, and then thinking about it.
  4. Wondering 'what if', and not worrying about the results.
  5. Writing down my thoughts, reactions, questions.
  6. Sketching thoughts, reactions, questions.
  7. Listening to inquisitive, curious people.
  8. Sharing ideas with people who really listen.
  9. Trying something new, or something old in a new way.
  10. Asking big and little questions, and then allowing time to ponder them.
  11. Making connections, and then making more.
  12. Repeatedly following those fascinations that keep me wondering.
  13. Me.




1.06.2017

In 2017, stay curious, my friends!






2014 BRAVE
2015 COLOR

2016 FREE


2017 CURIOUS


"What is creative living? Any life that is driven more strongly by curiosity than by fear." Elizabeth Gilbert

Stay curious, my friends! A fox crossed my path while driving home late on the 31st, a few miles from our home, in the same place where I found a dead fox a year and a half ago. Before that, I had been thinking about the importance of curiosity (and hope, and trust) in life and in the creative process. When the fox crossed my path, I wondered why. Why are there so many fox in that specific area? After the influx of coyote and wolf into our larger area, how do the fox survive in what appears to be a small protected zone? Maybe local farmers aren't protecting the fox, as much as the livestock. Is the food around there what the coyote and wolf do not want?

The metaphor of the fox (Resilient Fox) was important in my work for awhile, and then the wolf appeared (When Wolves Enter, Curious Wolf, for Avery). Now, the fox may be back. A fox crossing your path has many meanings, but what does it mean for me in a new year? With all these questions, my word for 2017 is CURIOUS. We are all passionate and fierce at times, but I think everyday curiosity is what really moves us along.

A year ago I said:
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. 


I don't know where my curiosity will lead this year, but I am convinced that admitting I do not know is the best way to stay curious and engaged, daily.




"We keep moving forward, opening new 
doors, and doing new things, because 
we're curious and curiosity 
keeps leading us down new paths." 
Walt Disney




12.22.2016

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"


9.18.2016

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!



9.17.2016

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. 

3.25.2016

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. 

2.29.2016

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.
  

2.08.2016

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. 


1.01.2016

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."


12.29.2015

Final 2015 post--dark, colder and older

In the final days of 2015, I want to post this work that
was also painted this month. I struggle this time of year
with the lack of sun as I get older (January birthday) and
the cold clamps down on the region. But, the sun will
shine a little longer each day now. The cold in Minnesota
is inevitable. And aging, well aging continues each day
too, and embracing it is the best option.

Call it gimmicky, but I am on the search for my word for
2016. It will come to me, just like COLOR did for 2015
and BRAVE for 2014. What is most needed now will
determine it.


12.18.2015

Working, Wishing & Looking Away

The two most recent paintings from this week are
lighter and brighter, and more simplified. COLOR
was my word for 2015, and it is feeling great to go
with more color, and not over-think it. As my daughter
Anna said this week while writing magnetic poetry
with her sister, "It doesn't turn out if you plan it."

Looking at these recent paintings I am wondering what
it all means, but as an artist it really doesn't matter at
the time of making. What matters is that I am making,
trusting as I go, and not worrying about what will sell,
or what will be exhibited, or how it will be received.
What matters is being present and knowing that I
am painting something that I wish existed. When that
wish, not plan, but when that wish becomes a reality
after some flow and some struggle, there is satisfaction.
At that moment, am knowing that all is well, and all 
will be okay, and I am in a hopeful state of being. 

Which brings me to something I wrote recently:
Some people will give you the message that no 
matter what you do, how kind or great you are, 
you are still not one of them. Or some people 
just want to point out flaws. Forgive them and 
look away, and find abundant beauty and 
blessings in places outside unhappy groups of 
people. Try not to be sad or bitter, but love, 
because you are loved and imperfect, and 
forgiven. Our time here is short and grace is 
new each minute.



















12.04.2015

Fresh Art Friday

In keeping with the same compositional format (see
posts below) on 24"x30" canvas, one painting was
finished this week. The other has just begun, and might
be a lighter, brighter painting--or not. Helps to have a
format for beginning (a close up of my shoulder next
to my husband's), and then freedom to explore the door/
wolf/water/space-in-between metaphors as I go. New
stories are forming, and it is feeling fresh.



11.03.2015

Beginning a Series of Spaces

With an exhibit coming Summer 2016, a series is beginning.
On October 12th, I posted this photo.


It is a zoomed-in detail of my husband and me overlooking
a lake in 2010, taken by our then 9 year-old daughter
without us realizing it. This photo has fascinated me since
then and recently I started to use the space in between us
from the photo as a take off point for two paintings, that I
hope will grow into more.  And, hello to the wolf, a new
metaphor that is developing.
acrylic painting, 30" x 24"

10.12.2015

The Spaces Between Us

At times the spaces in between us are too large and
gaping. Others times the space is small, confined, or
undefined, like where my kids used to share a small
bedroom without closets, or in the tight space of my
claustrophobia dreams crawling through dirt tunnels.

Around 30 years ago, my family went on a river-tubing
excursion in the Minnesota summer heat, my mom, dad,
three little bothers and me. (Now that I think about it, my
parents were young, still in their 30s.) My youngest brother,
Will, had tubes in his ears at the time, and wasn't supposed
to submerge his head. Just as we were about to float down
a rocky stretch of mini-rapids, Will slipped off his tube and
went under--and in went my mom after him. I remember
looking back and being terrified seeing the empty tubes
lightly bobbing toward me. And then, in went my dad to
retrieve both mom and Will. He pulled them up to shore as
the rest of us grabbed their tubes. Now these weren't wild
rapids, but my brothers were little (approx. 5, 7, and 9)
and I was 14. I remember looking at the small bleeding cut
on my mom's leg, and thinking if only the space between 
the tubes had been smaller, I could have prevented it.
(My brothers turned out to have a blast, especially Will.
Risk wasn't my thing then; I've gotten a little better at risk
and not feeling responsible for everything, since then.)

The space in between us is pretty small when raising
young children. It has to be, but now as our daughters are
growing, I am finding more space for myself, and more
space and time for my husband and me. Yesterday as we
walked through our Fall woods, I thought more about the
space in between us, especially with this man who has
walked with me for twenty-two years. Often the woods
are his space, but we walked it together yesterday.

My work has been exploring the spaces in-between, lately.
Below I am playing with the shapes of the shadows and
the space between us.

In our woods yesterday, October, 2015.

Bearhead Lake, 2010. Taken by our daughter, Anna, without us knowing.

9.23.2015

Self-Imposed Book Report, by Tiffany Besonen

Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth
Gilbert is a call for creative action, play, and trust.

Shut Fear Up
Written in her girlfriend-at-a-coffee-shop voice,
Gilbert gives many great examples of ordinary people
with "stubborn gladness" hammering out their creative
work despite insecurities and fears. Most memorable for
me is her note to fear, "Dearest Fear: Creativity and I
are about to go on a road trip together. I understand
you'll be joining us, because you always do... understand
this: Creativity and I are the only ones who will be 
making decisions along the way... You're not allowed
to touch the road maps; you're not allowed to fiddle
with the temperature. Dude, you're not even allowed
to touch the radio. But above all else, my dear old
familiar friend, you are absolutely forbidden to drive."
Yes! Fear may be present, but don't empower it.

Stop Complaining. Just Stop.
And here is another thing that shouldn't get much of
your time and attention, negativity and complaining.
Gilbert says, "Of course it's difficult to create things;
if it wasn't difficult everyone would be doing it, and it
wouldn't be special or interesting." She says by
complaining, "you are scaring away inspiration." Good
reminder that the tortured artist image is just an image
that will actually work against you. She who spends less
time with angst has more time to make art. And, art is
what I want to do, right? Yes. Also, EG has the audacity
to suggest that creating is pleasurable and fun, even
sensual. I happen to totally agree, and when it isn't so
fun, I know it will be soon. Complaining and having a
tortured-artist-fit, will prolong getting to the good part,
right? Do we really want things to be easy all the time?
Where is the challenge and reward in that?

Perseverance + Done Enough vs. Perfectionism
Gilbert starts to get to the core of why we make art.
Hint, not to get famous or make money. (Although
she is an example of someone who has gained both.)
She doesn't dig as deep as I'd like into the why of
creation, but most of her point is to not take it all
so seriously. Just do it. Don't worry about whether it
is good or important. Just get it "done enough", she
says, so it isn't just another inspired, but unfinished
creation hanging out there. Gilbert pretty convincingly
tells us that we owe it to ourselves and our inspiration to
follow through, or inspiration will not find us as often. 
Done enough vs. Perfectionism is always an issue with
creators, and probably the difference between the doers
and the quitters. The quitters/non-finishers always have
excuses, but mainly it is because they did not persevere
and allowed their perfectionism (expecting perfect
conditions, perfect materials, perfect timing, perfect
results) to stop them, end of story.

My MFA Dilemma 
I doubt Big Magic will be required reading in MFA
programs, especially since Gilbert says that most MFAs
are too expensive and  unnecessary to actually making
art. While this really is a great thing for me to hear right 
now while I don't have an MFA and probably won't be
in an MFA program in the near future, I have to disagree
with dismissing MFA programs completely. Obviously,
an MFA is required for some jobs (mainly fine arts
professors), but also I believe education (if it's the right
program for you) is an efficient avenue to growth and
transformation. As a teacher, I see evidence of this every
day when students are challenged out of their comfort
zones and then supported and encouraged to new heights.
As an artist, I also want to experience an atmosphere of
support and challenge, in ways that I could never do on
my own. That being said, I cannot sit around waiting for
an MFA to make art; artists always find a way to make
art, as well as find encouragement.

Playful Fox vs. Suffering Martyr
When Gilbert discusses how creativity should be more of
a playful trickster than a suffering martyr, I immediately
got  the image of the fox that keeps showing up in my work.
I imagine my fox playing and creating when Gilbert says,
"I believe that the original human impulse for creativity
was born out of pure trickster energy. Of course it was!
Creativity wants to flip the mundane world upside down
and turn it inside out." My fox has become my inner stinker,
the playful companion who bores easily with my self-pity,
and does not want to stop even when I run out of paint or
time or both. Obstacles like needing sleep or the high
cost of art supplies are nothing to this fox; there are always
ways around, under, or through them.

Curiosity, The Best Meat
Finally, toward the end of Big Magic: Creative Living  
Beyond Fear, Elizabeth Gilbert gets to what I consider
the really meaty stuff. My inner-fox devoured it up and
wanted more. EG says if you are fascinated by or have an
interest in something, pay attention. "It might seem like
nothing, but it's a clue. Trust it. See where curiosity will
lead you next. Then follow the next clue, and the next,
and the next." This is some of the how of making art. Life
is not boring, look around. "And since creativity is still the
most effective way to access wonder, I choose it."

Vulnerability & Fierce Trust 
Then it is time to let go of your work and share it with
others, and in my opinion it really isn't art if it isn't
shared, becoming more than just yours. It is scary and
there are no guarantees that it will be well received.
"Fierce trust demands that you put forth the work
anyhow, because fierce trust knows that the outcome
does not matter." If you truly want to make art, it does
not matter how it is received. IF I TRULY WANT TO
CREATE ART, THEN THE FOX MUST PLAY!

Unbound, 2015, acrylic (including metallic copper) on canvas

Tiffany Besonen is an artist and art teacher who lives in rural Northern
Minnesota on a century old farmstead with her family. She teaches 
grades 3-12 Art in the Nevis School District, and has exhibited her 
work throughout the Midwest and at the SOHO20 Gallery in New York 
City. She writes about the challenges and joys of art-making.

9.11.2015

Movement In Between

"In rivers, the water that you touch is the last of what has passed 
and the first of that which comes; so with present time."
Leonardo da Vinci


August 2015 Camping Trip. Rocks and lines of foam downstream from Gooseberry Falls, Mn:





8.07.2015

The Space In Between

Space In Between, diptych, acrylic paint and paint marker on canvas, 16" x 8"

My individual work seems to thrive best when I find 
places to observe the 'space in between', the space 
that connects. Doors in my work began when I was 
at a workshop at the Minneapolis College of Art and 
DesignWhile the aged doors and historic architecture 
of the MCAD campus was interesting, it wasn't until 
I opened the doors and sketched the thresholds that 
the spaces came alive. The 'space in between' of a 
threshold isn't inside or out, here or there, but a 
connection of the two. Undefined, unnamed spaces 
intrigue, yet scare me. Grief is also an in-between 
space like that, vague, scary, and confusing. At MCAD 
and later at home, parts of the elusive fox appeared 
in the open doorways, a tail here and a snout there. 
Sometimes the fox seems like my unseen and unheard 
self, sometimes kinetic energy, but always whispering 
for me to follow. 

Grief may be a thread through my recent work, but also 
the energy of hope and acceptance is present. Now, the 
negative 'spaces in between' the doors and foxes are 
yielding these colors, great abstract shapes, and active 
lines that speak to me. My new work seems to be 
especially saying something about joy, freedom, and 
hope.

6.30.2015

Summer of Awkward, In Progress

In progress, paint marker on acrylic painted canvas






















The painting above is in progress, one of those things
that can go in many directions yet. The vertebrae of the
fox tail is becoming exposed and that has me realizing
that my fox and crow are metamorphosing, somehow.

Also in progress is the 'Summer of Awkward'.
One of my favorite quotes of my daughter from
earlier this year:
Me, "So, what did you do before the game?"
Anna, "We just walked around being awkward."

She cracks me up, but it really is how we
walk through most of our lives, awkwardly doing
the best we can. While acquaintances think we are
predictable, the truth is that we are all slowly
changing and we could go in so many directions.

With a teen, a tween, and Dan and me in our 40s,
awkwardness prevails and today I decided it must be
embraced, not avoided. We do like to make fun of
ourselves, which makes it all the more bearable.
My family and friends inspire me to move forward
through my own awkwardness, try new things, and
laugh at myself as I go. It is most comfortable (and
least awkward) to do what I already know, but
constant comfort is very unsatisfying and
unproductive. Isn't it?



5.31.2015

Making Peasant Memories

Yes, peasant.  Although, pleasant too.

I am asking my family to make lists of free/inexpensive
things they want to do during the Summer of 2015.
While I'd love a family trip to to London and Finland,
we (and our budget) need to appreciate "nearby
subtleties--the everyday, heart-twinging beauty that
quietly begs to be heard". Yep, quoting my own about
page. In Northern Minnesota in the Summer, heart-
twinging beauty is easily found, but it is also a time to
learn the satisfaction of manual labor "passed down
from generations of farmers." Another quote of myself,
from a 2008 post about Spring. Am I getting too lazy
to write new stuff? My farmer ancestors would be so
disappointed. But, don't judge, just love. (Hey, I may
have just created a new quotable quote.)

There are a slew of well-intended lists on mommy
blogs, telling us how to be the perfect parents in 10 
Steps to an Enchanted Summer for Your Young 
Royalty. (Do not desperately look for that link--made
that up.) And how much like failures will most of those
parents feel come September? I clicked on something
yesterday and was lead to an online class (only $150)
for parents to learn how to have the best summer ever
with their kids. Really? Is there a formula? I should,
instead, sell giant cardboard boxes for $149 to those
parents, The Box of The Month Club.

Pulling weeds and picking rocks may not be
enchanting, but necessary lessons in earning fun
and relaxation, and experiencing the satisfaction of
seeing progress---and, understanding they are not
royalty. Although, a totally free walk through the
woods is pretty enchanting.

Landscaping, last Summer, and making peasant memories.