About My Book

My Texan friend Jeanne Schedler (who I roomed with at Artfest) wants to know what my book is all about. Well, Jeanne, I was Blogless in Brampton yesterday because I was trying to finish writing one page in said book. Yes, just one page. Even though I write for a living, I still find it hard to do. In my opinion, writing is closer to thinking than speaking. Anyone who knows me is aware I have trouble keeping my thoughts on track. But when I talk, at least I can self-correct on the spot.
Anyway, back to my book. It’s designed to help artists and writers embrace their creativity and put it into practice. I actually wrote 70 pages of straight text before I realized I was on the wrong track. Now the book has evolved into a series of mini essays with graphics, which is what I was trying to do in the first place.
I’ve always been fascinated by creativity, and started making notes back in the 80s. But part of the problem I’ve had focusing on this project is that I’ve amassed too much information, and made too many notes. I don’t think I’m any closer to a theory of creativity than I was 20 years ago. However, I do have a better sense of what works, and what doesn’t. But I’ll have to let my readers be the judge of that when I’ve finished my book.

Reflecting on today

It’s always rewarding when I manage to forge ahead on my book. After struggling with this project for almost two years, I’ve finally found my rhythm. Curbing my tendency to run on and on (and on) seems to be working. My goal is to finish by the beginning of November, and now I’m beginning to believe this will actually happen.
While I’m writing, I’ve trained myself not to check my email, but it’s the first thing I head for when I finish what I’m doing. Today there was a treat…a lovely email from a really interesting woman called Karen Straatsma.
I met Karen and her friend Eva at King View recently, and we had a wonderful conversation about all sorts of things, including creativity – a topic I usually manage to bring up because it interests me so much. To make a long story short, Karen has always wanted to paint, and she told me today that I have inspired her to pull the out the canvases she’s been storing in her closet.
If I have a mission in life, it’s to encourage other people to express their creativity. So thank you, Karen…you’ve made my day.

Wonderful Wendy

The family birthdays (January to June) were held yesterday at Robin and Wendy’s and we had a gas. My sister-in-law Wendy is just the coolest. She gave everybody a loot bag with their picture on the outside. Each one was filled with musical instruments, hats, necklaces and bracelets from the dollar store...it was just like being at the kind of birthday party you wished you’d gone to as a kid, but never did. Everyone – including my dad and mum – got all decked out and then started playing with their toys – cymbals, clappers, tambourines, triangles and so on. Wendy took lots of pictures, so it will make a great family album.
John and I were trying to figure out what would be a good present for Robin and Wendy, and we decided that giving them each a gift certificate for a Biofield Analysis would be a great idea. When I was at King View last weekend, Joyti had hers done by one of the residents, Murray Hayes, and she was really enthusiastic about it, so I know it will be an interesting experience for Robin and Wendy.
Biofield Analysis is based on reading the color from your charkas and you actually get a printout afterwards. David and I are going to do this too, and then I’d like to do some paintings of how we vibrate!

Yet Another Journal

Beverly Dalton gave me a really nice journal a couple of years ago, and I really enjoyed working in it. But I’d totally forgotten about its existence – until tonight, that is. While hunting through boxes earlier, I found Bev’s journal (taken apart so I could work on the pages) in a large baggie. How could I have stopped working on it? There is a growing pile of half-done projects on my art table. This one will join the two altered books I’m working on, the paintings, the process journal, and so on, and so on. I’m actually afraid to take a head count because I don’t have a clue how I’ll ever get everything done.

I’m finished – but in a good way!

When it comes to our club projects, I usually finish them the day before…sometimes even the day of. The CD case is the first one I’ve managed to do in advance, and I can’t believe I’m a week early. The main reason for this is because I’m not very busy with work right now. It’s tempting to think that my tardiness is the result of circumstance, not because I tend to procrastinate.
I also think this particular project is more “me” than the other ones we’ve done…i.e. I didn’t have to think too much. Or more accurately, it dovetailed with what I’m working on right now and where I want to go.
When it comes to finishing an actual painting though, I’m continuing to dither. The solution to this seemed to be working on several paintings at once. But what happens when you really like the backgrounds you’ve done and you don’t want to add anything?
Speaking of adding, I’m thinking of the abstract impressionist and minimalist painter Ad Reinhardt right now. His thing was basically backgrounds. Although I’m sure he didn’t think of them that way, you can’t help feeling your job is to supply your own context when you’re looking at one of his paintings.

Painting

The last couple of nights I’ve been working on my project for Carmi’s art club a week this Friday, and there’s paint everywhere. When I cook I use every utensil in the kitchen, and I approach painting in the same way. It would be handy to have an assistant to clean up after me.
Apparently Chinese brush painters weren’t taken seriously as artists until they’d served an apprenticeship to a more experienced practitioner. For several years they’d have to grind paints, wash brushes, make tea, and keep the studio tidy. I sure could use someone like this because I’m such a slob.
I always have several things going at once, and things often degenerate into chaos. The other day I was right in the middle of painting when I realized that David would be taking my camera with him to the glass art conference he’s attending in St. Louis. I got the bright idea of photographing all the junk I’d collected over the last few months – old Styrofoam, shreds of plastic, dead flowers etc. – just in case inspiration struck while he was away. Bad move. Now my studio looks like a museum with no budget.
I wish I could focus on one project in a neat, orderly fashion. But I just can’t seem to do this. Would I ever finish anything if I didn’t have deadlines? It’s doubtful.

We have Bunnies!

I was working away on an article this morning when John came in to speak to me. He noticed a baby rabbit right outside the window, so I immediately grabbed the camera and started taking pictures. It turned out to be a Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail moment because there were three of them hopping around the garden.
Lily would have gone berserk if she’d seen them, but fortunately she was sleeping off second breakfast. I wish I’d been able to get all three bunnies together in a picture, but most of the photos didn’t turn out. I thought this one was adorable though.

The Magic of King View

I doubt I’ll ever really get into yoga, but I enjoyed Linda’s weekend retreat all the same. It was held at the King View Conference Centre outside Toronto, a place I’d love to go back to again. There’s a meditation waterfall and a labyrinth, as well as 86 acres of lush meadows and trees, and wonderful views too.
A group of residents live there year round and tend to the property. They are very spiritually minded people, and the care they give their home is especially evident in the way they look after their animals: goats, a pig, ponies, a beautiful mare and her foal, a lovely golden retriever and Jacqui the long-haired donkey pictured above. I spent some time communing with Jacqui…well, actually we just stood there and looked at each other for a while, and occasionally she would twitch her ears at me.
Jacqui was in bad shape when she arrived at King View, and terrified of humans. But because healing is an important part of what goes on at the centre, they nursed Jacqui back to health; this was done in part by attunement, a non-touching process of healing practiced by several of the residents. When I reluctantly left Jacqui to go to lunch, she became annoyed and started braying at me! I wanted to climb over the fence and give her a big hug.
I hadn’t met anyone who was attending the retreat before, but getting to know wonderful people like Karen, Eva, Joyti, Judy and Bibi was an unexpected treat for me. It never fails to amaze me how unique and interesting people really are. I know it’s easy to be cynical about things, but speaking as a bona fide aging hippy/failed yuppie, I think life is a lot more interesting for me now than it was back in the 70s.

The Mystery Flower

I seem to have a Georgia O’Keefe thing going on lately because I’ve been photographing flowers and playing with them in PhotoShop. I can’t remember what the name of this one is but it fascinates me because it closes its petals halfway through the day for some reason.
Tomorrow I’m going on a two-day yoga retreat run by my friend Linda. Lily knows I’m leaving her for the weekend, and she’s been dogging my footsteps all day. This morning she tried to claw down one of my paintings that was propped against a wall in the studio. Lily likes something of mine to sleep on in every room, but she’s never shown an interest in my artwork before, so it was hilarious. Maybe I’ll do her a special painting just for snoozing. In the meantime, she’ll have to make due with my nightgown this weekend. I always leave her something to remember me by, and it seems to keep her happy.

Process, Product and Poppies

For Christmas, Pam gave me Life, Paint and Passion: Reclaiming the Magic of Spontaneous Expression by Michele Cassou and Stewart Cubley, and I’ve just gotten around to reading it now. While the book is inspiring in many ways, I have to disagree with the authors’ belief that you can’t embrace product and process at the same time.
Isn’t product part of the process? For example, I took these photos of my poppies this morning. I could have just left it at that. But they didn’t really reflect what I actually saw. By playing with the images in Photoshop, I was able to get closer to what I’d experienced, and that satisfied me.
What I noticed about the paintings in Life, Paint and Passion is that most of them are quite similar to each other even though different students created them. The authors’ theory is that you must get right down to painting without thinking about it, or else you’re inhibiting your intuition. Makes sense. But then if intuition is an individual quality why do the “products” look so much alike? I can’t help thinking that either consciously or unconsciously Cassou and Cubley must have been pushing for certain results because I see way more variety and individuality expressed in our dollar store challenges. I don’t know how spontaneous each of one of us feels while doing them, but judging from the results, intuition is in full flower.

The Peonies are out

I love this time of year…trees rustling gently, birds darting and twittering, the peonies and poppies blooming in my garden, and of course it’s just the right temperature. While I was talking to Beverly Dalton on the phone yesterday, she saw a hummingbird in her garden and it actually took a rest on one of her trees. Neither of us had ever seen or heard of that before.
John saw a woodpecker yesterday too. A couple of years ago we watched one rat-a-tat-tatting on the trunk of our lilac, and it was hilarious. He (or she) was so totally focused on the task at hand.
I’m feeling pleased with myself today because I’m actually ahead on my book, and I’ve prepared two canvases to start working on this evening. Last night Susan Wilkie dropped over and we experimented with solvent inks and paint…not that successfully, but it was fun anyway. I also bought some dry pigment and I’m going to try making my own acrylic paints. The process sounds like a no-brainer, but I imagine I’ll have to get the feel of it first.

Great Aunt Molly

I love this cabinet card of my great aunt Molly. When I scanned it into Photoshop and enlarged it on screen, I could see that the photographer had lengthened her already long lashes. This must have been done using a very fine-tipped brush and a magnifying glass.
My dad remembers Molly as “beautiful but bossy.” As he explains it: “She was the only one of my aunties that ever took lumber to me.”
Molly was the fifth of my grandmother’s six sisters and six brothers. The eldest, Emily, was born 24 years before my grandmother so Nana had nieces and nephews older than she was. I can’t imagine bringing up thirteen children, let alone giving birth to them – and my great-grandmother Eliza Ivermee was less that five feet tall too! There were so many children in the house there weren’t enough chairs to go around, so the rule was that you stood to eat until you got a job. No wonder most of them – including Molly – immigrated to Canada.

Journaling at Second Cup

This afternoon I played hooky with David for a couple of hours. First we went to Michaels where I bought several tubes of half-priced acrylics, and an expensive Windsor & Newton watercolor set for John with my 40 percent off coupon. Then David and I went to Second Cup to work on our journals.
David had trouble settling in – probably because he was drinking tea. But I ordered some frosted and sugary espresso thing that acted like a shot of speed to my creative system. I wrote several pages in my metaphysical journal, then moved on to my ideas journal where I did some sketches for paintings, and finally finished up by working on my book.
John was thrilled with his watercolors. The paints are very good quality and he started playing with them right away. He’s been thinking of doing this for a while, so I thought I’d just give him a push. His grandfather was an architect and painted beautiful watercolors, so I think this is what appeals to John about working in the medium.
My dad’s father was a glass artist, and when David decided to become one himself, I couldn’t help thinking that there must be an affinity for certain mediums that’s built right into us. I don’t know where my constellation of affinities comes from though. Alpha Centauri maybe? John says that’s where I’m from and it’s as good an explanation as any, I guess.

Our Next Club Project

At our last club meeting, Karen Arts – yes, imagine having “Arts” as a last name when you’re an artist – brought along CD cases for us to alter as our June dollar store challenge. Cherri immediately said to me that she knew what she wanted to do with hers. But I, as usual, was clueless.
Debbie dropped by the next day, and when I showed her the CD case, she told me it reminded her of a tongue. John said much the same thing to me later, and I began to think it might make a great repository for quotes – speaking in tongues maybe? But then again, the case would be perfect for holding mandalas too. Back in the late 90s, I did a mandala a day for several weeks, and I really enjoyed confining my creativity to a particular format. (Carmi is doing a similar though more ambitious thing by promising herself that she’s going to do a collage a day until the end of June). Anyway, I looked at some of the flower mandala artistamps I’d done in Photoshop a year ago for a mail art call, and I’ve decided that I really don’t want to work in a circular format right now. I have an idea itching away in the back of my mind, but we’ll have to see whether or not it asserts itself. Whatever happens, I have a feeling that I’m going to find this challenge interesting.

Selling My Work

Since I’ve been working on my business plan I haven’t sold a thing. It’s getting to the point where it’s actually funny. Take today for instance. The women at the post office love my artistamps, and when I mentioned that I also sell digital prints they wanted to see them. So I took in about fifteen this morning to show them. Customers got involved too, and everyone was enthusiastic about what I’d done and picked out their favorites. Of course I mentioned that they were for sale, and the reaction? “You must design some stamps for Canada Post!” Good idea, but that’s a long-term project and frankly what I’m thinking about at the moment is the here and now, and selling what I’ve already done. Maybe context is everything. Perhaps it would have been better to take in sheets of my artistamps instead – or as well.
Randi Feuerhelm-Watts has a great story about the problem of selling in her Frida Kahlo Journaling Zine. Apparently Frida only had one exhibition of her paintings in Mexico and she was always short of money. When things got particularly bad, she would send one of her paintings to a friend who hadn’t asked for it and bill them for 10,000 pesos. If the friend didn’t respond – in Randi’s words – to “the mandatory art dealer thing,” Frida would quickly end the friendship.
I can’t imagine doing that to anyone I know, and I wouldn’t want to. But you have to admire Frida’s chutzpah – or whatever the Spanish equivalent of that word is.

The Muse in Hyper-drive

Lately the muse has been filling my head so full of ideas I’m getting nothing done. Well, that’s not exactly true – I’m just not accomplishing as much as I’d like to. But I’m sure if I had a realistic idea of how long things were going to take me, I’d probably be too overwhelmed to bother. Nothing like hope and possibilities to keep you going.
This afternoon John and David moved my perforator out to the garage. I want more room to paint and a 300 lb perforator takes up a lot of studio space. So I guess we have another satellite art room going again because David has a worktable and his glass-making supplies out there too. (To fit everyone in for Christmas lunch and dinner, I had to abandon the dining room a few months ago).
But I don’t want to leave my perforator in the garage over the winter. I would be really uncomfortable using it out there, and it might rust. My perforator is 137 years old and I feel like its steward (or stewardess), so this has given me the incentive to clear out a spot for it in the basement. But my heart quails at having to tidy up down in the black hole. I freak every time I look at all the stuff we have. To be honest, 80 per cent of the stuff is mine. Do I have the guts to get tough with myself? I guess I’ll have to…and pronto.

Claustrophobia

Yesterday afternoon I spent several hours trying to tidy up my workroom so I actually have space to paint. I wish I could just twitch my nose like Samantha in Bewitched and presto-change-o everything would be organized intelligently and ready to go. But how do you do that when you have way too much stuff in the first place?
On Friday night, Mary and Carmi were talking about the same problem. Carmi moved her studio space and it’s taken her way longer to get things together than she thought it would. She has my sympathy. Three and a half years ago I spent several months sorting everything out and getting rid of tons of things I didn’t need – just like Carmi. If I hadn’t bought any more supplies in the meantime, I’d be okay now. But of course that’s not what actually happened.
Instead I’ve continued to collect more stuff and to wedge it into whatever space is available. While I basically have a place for everything and I’ve trained myself to keep things reasonably tidy, I’m starting to feel claustrophobic…especially now that I’ve started piling stuff on the floor. (Someone told me recently that it’s not a good sign when you go the floor route…it has something to do with your mind being too cluttered). I could solve the problem by putting up more shelves, but then it would feel like I’m working in a storeroom. Yes, it’s definitely time for another big merge and purge, but I have too much to do right now. I’ll just have to grit my teeth and focus.

My Art Apron

Our art club is tonight and I can’t wait to see what everyone has done with the bottle bib. When I saw it, I didn’t have a clue what to do. But this challenge really proves that given a task and a deadline virtually anything can be transformed.
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, my idea for this project was fueled by a dream. It doesn’t look anything like the image I saw, but the basics are there: an apron on a torso. At first I was going to use a bottle, but then I remembered that I had this miniature dressmaker’s form and thought it might work.
What I was after with the bib was a kind of record of the mess you make when you’re painting something. A few years ago I took this great workshop at the Japanese Paper Place where we painted on washi. I had some leftover scraps that had a fabricy feel, and I decided to collage those onto the bib. But it looked too minimalist even for my tastes, so I added the painted head and wings.
Looking at it now, I can see this image is a kind of cross between Winged Victory and what I imagine to be the spirit behind the apron a Mason wears. I’ve always liked the idea that making art is like belonging to a secret society. You just keep working away at it and eventually everything starts to come into focus.

We’re Back!

I took this picture of John with the Atlantic Ocean as a backdrop and sandwiched it with a photo of one of the many amazing buildings we saw in Boston. It’s hard to get back into the groove after having such a great time together.
On the way down we hit a snag at U.S. Customs. They took our passports and John had to be fingerprinted and photographed because he’s still a British citizen. He’s says this experience has given him the incentive to finally become a Canadian.
Fortunately the rest of the trip went smoothly. Visiting the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum was one of the high points. Built around a courtyard, the museum is crammed with tapestries, sculptures, paintings, old letters, books and furniture. There’s so much to discover. The jumble of styles and artifacts is eccentric and overwhelming, not like the galleries we’re both used to that’s for sure.
I loved the Renaissance paintings in particular…Boticelli, Titan and Raphael, as well as several artists from that time period I’d never heard of. There was a spectacular Rembrandt self-portrait there too. I’ve never been a big fan of his paintings, even though I’d read that he used multiple layers of glazes to get his skin tones just right. But then again, I’d never actually seen a Rembrandt in the flesh so to speak. It’s not easy to describe how powerful this painting really is. The best I can do is to say that it just shimmered.
While waiting for the “T’ a couple of days later, we had another cool experience. A guy – well, more like a dude really with all his belongings in a shopping cart – started singing that old Smokey Robinson song Ain’t Too Proud To Beg, and he was just fantastic…really belting it out with plenty of soul. Everyone was ignoring him, but they couldn’t help hearing him. I kept waiting for someone to make a move and give him some money, so finally I walked on over and gave him a dollar. Fortunately this started the ball rolling and I think he did pretty well. I keep thinking about him though. He obviously had talent, but why was he homeless? I guess he took a wrong turn somewhere, but then again so many of us do.

Packing Angst

Nothing gets me gnarlier than packing for a trip. I think it all stems from those childhood summer vacations when I had to cut back on what I wanted to take because we were a family of six traveling in one car.
Here’s what really bugs me about packing:
Making decisions. How do I know what I’ll feel like wearing or reading when I get to where I’m going? For that matter, who knows what the weather will be like? (I learned this the hard way when I went to Vancouver in August – and it was freezing).
Finding clouds of dog hair in my suitcase. I know, I know, I should be a better housekeeper and give up my penchant for black.
Worrying about my dog. Lily has followed me around all day today. She knows something is up. In fact, she’s staring at me now with big haunted eyes. I’m waiting for her to start howling. That just wrenches my heart.
Looking for stuff. While I’m hunting around I come across all sorts of things that I haven’t finished, and I feel guilty about going away.
Losing stuff. I’ve been to Boston seven times. I have a fabulous map and all sorts of info. But where is it? Why did I set up a fancy cross-referenced filing system if I can’t even stick to it?
Housecleaning. Even though I’m a slob, I hate coming back to a messy house. Today this involved scrubbing the bathtub…the number one housecleaning job I hate. I keep hoping someone else will understand how much I loathe doing this and take over. But so far, no luck.
It’s not all bad though. This time I’m traveling with John and we’re driving. His philosophy is that we just fill up the car with whatever we want to take and stop when it’s full.