Bursting

(birdies say what??)


I don't really even want to talk about it at length, for fear of jinxing whatever Energy Spell I'm currently under, but holy crap I've been getting a lot done lately.

There's not really a direct reason for it, I still don't sleep very well, but after I shake myself out of exhaustion around 8am every day I am zoomin' around. Even on weekends.

And I don't even drink coffee!

It feels good, whatever it is, and I don't expect it to last, because these spells never do, but part of me holds onto the lofty notion that this is just who I am now. ♥

I reorganized my whole bloody studio last weekend. We added an additional art table to the mix, and devoted a larger portion of our home to art stuff, basically our entire downstairs. More room for art, more room to grow an art business.

I also cooked a bunch of veggies that we overbought for freezing, because hey! Savings! And I did our taxes! And I finished writing my column early! And I finished reading Lord of The Rings! :oO

I'm not even sure anymore that it's energy. I think I'm just in a really great mood.

Maybe all this exercising is finally catching up with me. For three months we went to Krav Maga class once a week, and for the last eight weeks we've been going twice a week, and now we're gonna jump it up to three. Three classes per week. I still don't have a six-pack yet, but I've been feeling really wonderful.

I've also started meditating every day, which I decided to do for 40 days. I'm on day 15 now. At this point, I have no intention of stopping. I love it.

Is it all connected? I have no idea. I know that this week is one I haven't been looking forward to all year. I am usually depressed on the anniversary of my grandfather's death (in 2001), and this year I get to add in the anniversary of Joey's death. In the same freaking week. Thanks, Universe.

But I'm strangely filled with Joy. Maybe Joey's incredible spirit is coming back around. Maybe that's what he has ultimately given me. I knew before he died that his sweet, energetic, every-day-is-the-best-day-of-my-life personality was the thing I wanted to hold onto most.

Maybe now it's within me. Maybe I'm that person. Is it possible that Joey has turned the week I've always loathed into something wonderful, something to be happy over? Is he protecting me from myself? He would do that. Crazy, wonderful, perfect dog.

Either way, I am straight up bursting with life right now and I'm just gonna ride this as long as I can.


Here, There and Everywhere . 30x90 inches . 2012

New painting. :)


 

1. natural light 
2. interior light
3. mixed uv and interior light 
4. uv (black) light 
5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, candle wax, crushed glass, phosphorescent pigments, water & light on canvas.

So a friend that I've known since I was 5 moved into a beautiful big new house with beautiful empty walls and asked me to create original artwork for their living room.

::panic::

Not really.

Actually, I love doing commissions, especially when I know the person in question well (meaning their style) and I can see the house it will be hanging in frequently before starting the work. I remember once it was decided, I began looking at all the details around the house, trying to absorb absolutely everything about it. The windows, the ceiling, the accent colors, the floor, the rooms down the hallway, the kitchen, the backyard. It was all important.

I'm very intuitive in that way. It's one of my favorite things to do. I wanted to work with the space it would live in, as well as the family that would view it. Kristen & Greg have a lot of warm colors in their home, with certain rooms having red walls, certain rooms with buttery yellow walls, and all with beautiful hardwood floors. There were little accents of teal throughout the house, which stood out to me most. It seemed natural to work with that color to balance the rest, and to fill an otherwise empty pale yellow wall with a truly explosive color.

Most importantly, I wanted them to like it, and I wanted to feel proud of it since I would be seeing it fairly often. Although this did create an intense pressure to work under, I feel it brings out my best abilities. There's no way I would have given it to them if I didn't think I'd met all of my personally strict criteria in creating it.

I think it's one of the most unique pieces I've made in my entire career.

Oh. And here's what I wrote on the canvas beneath the paint: :)




I haven't even told them it's there yet. And no one will ever see it, but I just love knowing that little details like that exist. 

♥

[new column] The Shower Scene - A Gallery Story


New column up at Art & Musings, in which I recall my very first, very awkward gallery experience.



"We left the night on as best a note as possible, and I was just happy that for the most part, and for appearances’ sake, it was a downright successful opening for me. The hard part was over, I debuted well, I sold work, and now my art would hang in a gallery for the next month for more people to see.

Or so I thought."

More at Art & Musings!

Remnant . 20x20 inches . 2012







1. natural light
2. interior/artificial light
3. interior and uv/blacklight combined
4. uv light only
5. no light

Ingredients: acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, crushed seashells, varnish, water & light on canvas.

I have used seashells in paintings before, but in this situation, I wanted to highlight them for their own beauty. So I sprinkled some on top, at the very last stage. They are not painted over. I wanted the seashells to show their own color and texture, and not compete with the rest of the painting.

These crushed pieces were taken from an abalone shell that I once collected from Moonstone Beach in Cambria, on the Central California coast. Cambria is a special place for me. My grandparents often took me there as a child, where my Grandpa and I spent hours combing the beach for interesting shells, rocks, and driftwood. He collected such things, and his collections remain largely untouched at my grandmother's house since his death in 2001.

Later, Colin proposed to me on the very same beach.

I have many different items I've collected from that beach over the course of my lifetime. Using some of it to be commemorated permanently in paintings is fitting. :)

This painting is $1000, and the last in a series of three 20x20 inches pieces I'm making this year. If you're interested in collecting it, feel free to email me or purchase it in my Etsy shop.

The Skirt


I've had this skirt in my possession for about 10 years now, and I've adored it without ceasing though it's certainly not in my wardrobe rotation. The fabric is... well, basically it's Light Reactive. The color changes from purple to teal and it looks like a mermaid would wear it if mermaids wore skirts.

I think I wore it one time to an Easter/Spring/Fertility type festival we did with Immersion one year, based on the movie Chocolat. There was chocolate and wine and rave lights and art tables and prayer stations. Basically the type of thing that would peeve a number of people (whom I have no interest in associating) and feel like a refreshing waterfall of awesome to others.

Immersion was rad like that.



Anyhoo, since Immersion is now a personal journey and I haven't been to a rave in 8 years, this skirt has lost any hope of use, and before I end up ditching it in a fit of spontaneous decluttering or chopping it into a scarf, Colin thought photographing the wonder of it in all its glory would be a mutually beneficial solution.

I truly hadn't intended the nakedness for nakedness' sake, but honestly, what do I own anymore that goes with this skirt? Nothing. So, we went with what works. And I think it's freaking awesome. And good for me, by the way. Go bold or go home. Or, at least, that's what I'm on a mission to learn.

But this isn't about me.

It's about THE SKIRT.


Serenity . 30x40 inches . 2012






1. natural light
2. interior light
3. mixed interior and uv/black light
4. uv light only
5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, varnish, water & light on canvas. 

I've said it before, but it keeps becoming true in new ways. This is the biggest full moon I've ever done.  It's huge. It's like you're standing right in front of the MOON. 

It's funny how from a scientific standpoint, the moon is a cold, dusty, barren environment, but we take such warmth and comfort in its presence. The moon is romantic. It's peaceful. Serene. 

The glorious full moon is one of the most beautiful sights we humans will ever experience. I suppose only astronauts have the advantage on beautiful heavenly scenes. 

It only makes sense that this moon glows brightly and blue for the entire night. It will always be there to watch over the home in which it's hung, even literally guiding its owner by light in the blackness.

As someone who wakes up often throughout the night, I absolutely require this in my life nowadays. I keep a painting in the bedroom for this reason, and I'm known to walk downstairs to my studio in the darkness just to see everything I'm working on glowing in the dark. At this point in my life and career, my relationship to light within my work has become part of my soul. I can't imagine not having it around. Without it, I can only envision life to be a little bit darker and more depressing. 

Light is hopeful.

May it bring clarity and serenity to all who see it in its new home.

The following images show its iridescence:


Viewed standing on the right.


Viewed from the left.

New at Art & Musings: The Artist's Drug of Choice


Head over to Art & Musings to read my latest column: The Artist's Drug of Choice

"We can be addicted to all sorts of emotions, good and bad. Sometimes a simple bad habit (like laziness) can move so far down the rabbit hole that it becomes its own beast. We can’t see the obvious trajectory of chaos we’re in, even if we’re not enjoying it. We are addicted to the problem because we’ve been doing it for too long. We lose control."

Ready For What's Next



Normally I'm anti-New-Year's-resolutions, not because I don't believe in resolutions (I very much do) but because I've always thought that resolutions happen all year, not in January, and if you wait until January, you're not really resolving to change anything anyway.

However.

My birthday happens to be in January, so I get to go against all of that, because I do like to meditate on what I want for each new year of my life, and check myself against where I hope to be one day. I've always sort of thought that one should imagine their life at a certain point in the future, not too far ahead, and then work backwards to determine what steps must be taken in order to accomplish that image of yourself.

In my late 20s, I saw 30 as a distinct marking point along my path in life. I did not fear it as some around me seemed to, but instead used it as a goal to give myself direction. I felt there were aspects of my life that I wanted to be a certain way when I turned 30, and if those things were met or close to being met, then I was on the right track. It gave me positive pressure to work under. If my life was clearly moving along the direction I wanted it to be, what did I have to fear about any age?

I think because of this, I have adored my 30s. I'm much happier in this decade than any one before it. Granted, I'm only two years into it, but so far, so good. It's only just begun and I've already accomplished so much.

In this last year alone, I've gone to Japan and Kauai, had a very successful sold out show in Los Angeles that I put on myself, tripled my income, begun writing with true intention and regularity, paid off all our consumer debt, started saving money, am more fit than I've ever been in my life and have conquered a 16 year old dream to be a fighter and an athlete by taking up martial arts.

I also said goodbye to my best friend, which was certainly not the highlight of my year, but I'm incredibly proud of how we handled the situation and I'm eternally grateful that he stuck with me for as long as he did. I can't express that enough. His death was difficult, but his life was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

It's been a pretty significant year.

And I have to wonder how much more I will accomplish this year than last. There's nothing but fear and doubt to tell me otherwise, and I'm not really interested in paying that attention right now. At least not for my birthday. For my birthday, I give myself the freedom to know that this year will be awesome in ways I could never have imagined and that I will grow to be even closer to my ideal.

I have some pretty giant goals in mind for the next phase of my life.

I'm really looking forward to it.

Newest Art & Musings! The Highs and Lows (of making art)


(This picture is simply the shadows of the outside trees on a blank canvas in my studio. Neat, right?)


"In my art, I like to risk ruining everything, only to eventually save it. I’ll often do something drastic, like throw blue paint where it wasn’t intended, and suffer the repercussions of doing so as though it were a surprise. I’m sure there’s a very obvious psychological reflection of what that means in my own personal life, but hey. That’s why I’m an artist."



Reverie . 20x20 inches . 2012

Clouds! :oO






1. natural light
2. artificial interior light
3. artificial and UV light combined
4. UV light alone
5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, glass beads, varnish, water & light on canvas.

I sort of became obsessed with making clouds after painting The Shire last year. This started out as just a test run for a bigger cloud painting, but then I couldn't figure out why not to make it a cloud painting in its own right. So it was.

As usual with the little glass beads used in these clouds, it's impossible to show the true effect with a camera lens. There's something magical about how the sunlight gets in behind the beads and makes it look all fairy dusty and 3D. I sit there taking pictures at all angles trying to get the photo to match what I see with my eyes, but it's just not going to happen. I'm sure at some point camera technology will catch up with my artistic needs.

Actually, what I really loved most about this design isn't even the clouds, but the way the circle/sun/moon floats perfectly in the sky, hovering above the clouds, like a moment caught in time. It's happily content there, suspended in blue and allowing the viewer to pause and gaze at the whole moment without going blind. When can you do that in real life?

And who doesn't love to sit and stare and dream up stories about the clouds?

Reverie is $1000 and available now in my Etsy shop, or feel free to email me. Payment plans accepted.

Reverie, Echo, and one other piece I haven't quite finished yet are the smallest paintings I'm planning for the year so far. Just FYI.

I really do stress over crap like this.

 

Generally each year I come up with a new "collection" of work to be released, a bunch of paintings usually relating to each other, but occasionally with random bits and pieces thrown in from work I hadn't previously finished, or ideas that I want to play around with.

I sketch everything down together in my sketchbook so I can see how it looks as a whole.

Inevitably, I take so long getting around to starting certain pieces within a collection that I've lost the inspiration for it. So then the question is, do I push forward anyway? Or change direction and follow the new burst of creativity?

There are pros and cons to both. For one thing, as I'm facing today, I've already marked the hell out of a canvas with black, permanent paint pen in a design I once thought was genius but now see as trite and boring.

I could just paint over it in white. Like it never happened.

It really screws up my ability to produce massive amounts of work though, which just happens to be one of my major goals this year. Producing massive amounts of work. If I keep changing my mind, I'll never reach the amounts I'm aiming for.

And hey, with all that black paint pen, I'm already started! I can just start painting right now!

But dammit, I'm not feeling it. If I'm not feeling it now, the risk is hating the art more as it goes on, and having to switch direction WAY down the line after it's a goopy sloppy impossible mess.

In this case, I've decided to change it. No one but me will ever know what crazy magic design lies underneath the new painting. HA! I win. At least until paint pen x-ray technology is perfected.


I'm Thinking of Giving Up Cable (and other signs the apocalypse is nigh)


New column up at Art & Musings!



"I feel the need to clarify that I am, in no way, one of those anti-TV people. In fact, the staunchly anti-TV people I know don’t seem to be anti-video-game or anti-crappy-movie, and spend equally if not significantly more time in front of the screen watching nonsense than anyone I know who “watches” TV."

Brain Stretching

I've said it before and I'll say it again, the best advice I've ever received about art was "Don't make it good." Occasionally I have to remind myself exactly what this means. I get comfortable perfecting my same techniques and materials day in and day out, and rarely do I have time anymore to make anything craftsy, anything that wouldn't be considered part of my body of work.

It doesn't always have to be meaningful, or part of the whole. It doesn't have to have a message. It doesn't have to be good. Sometimes it's just coloring in a coloring book.

For some reason I was inspired to start the new year testing the limits of my abilities. I decided to paint, but in a way I never do, or at least haven't in over 10 years.

The two tests were as follows: One landscape done with acrylic, in 20 minutes or less, start to finish. The second was another landscape, in oil paints. I never, ever use oil paint.

I figured the time limits and difficulty using materials I'm totally unfamiliar with should put me in "the child zone," a place where I'm inexperienced, immature, and without practice. 


(experiment with acrylic)



(experiment with oil)

Man, that was hard. Oils are crazy, by the way. And acrylic, used like this, might as well have been a new material for me.

Now, they're not very good, and I'm definitely not going to start a new career in this. But that's not the point. The point is, I sat myself down to make something that I knew beforehand I wouldn't be good at. I wanted all my skills removed. I wanted there to be nothing left but pushing paint around a canvas and that spark of creativity only a child has. And having a time limit adds to the panic, which requires a lot more of my brain.

I think everyone should test their minds like this every so often. For artists, working in a different medium or with different subjects might be enough to "reset" your creative brain into not relying on your skill set, which in turn floods you with creativity for the art you are passionate about. 

Or, you could do something really crazy and write a book if you're a sculptor, or write a song if you're an author. Anything that requires new skills is guaranteed education. Don't make it good. That's the whole point.

I think I want to spend more time in 2012 being openminded and courageous with my art. 

Lights and Art

"Light is more than watts and footcandles; Light is metaphor."


One of my favorite scenes in TV history. 

(For context, this scene took place during the time in Alaska when it's dark 24/7 and the lack of daylight was starting to wear people down.)

Chris-in-the-morning's art projects were always bizarrely inspiring and in retrospect I know that they influenced my own work. In fact, a few of my early installation pieces (back when I did those) were inspired by him.

Northern Exposure was a great show, it's a shame so few people my age watched it. 

This scene never fails to make me happy. :)

Tidings



Good news, I think we're going to live.

Colin is doing much better thanks to antibiotics, and I have finally crested as well, after days of eating raw garlic and doing lavender apple cider vinegar gargles. Yeah, it was awesome.

I get really angry when I'm sick. I feel caged in.

Now that I'm not writhing around uncomfortably in bed, I'm going to focus on some positive thoughts. It was a little scary there for a bit with Colin, and I should be grateful that we're both alive and coming through this, and hey, apparently I never got sick enough to require Western medicine. Nice!

Being sick is not the time to philosophize about life. I realized this yesterday when every outlook I had was bleak and depressing.

I always feel like I'm missing out. There are social engagements either missed or jeopardized, and I'm convinced somehow that we're going to fall so far behind in Krav Maga class that we might as well give up.

It's not the healthiest emotion I could have while trying to recover. I start listing all the things I'm not doing and then I convince myself that I won't catch up, and suddenly all my plans for the next few years become impossible because I was out sick for a week.

But enough of that. We're alive. And getting better.

1. Christmas isn't lost.
2. Our muscles had a week of renewal after three major Krav Maga sessions last week.
3. We have now seen every single episode of Fringe.
4. We got to be sick-buddies!
5. We did a lot in the last year. No wonder we needed more rest.

I'm actually really looking forward to 2012. Wow, it's almost 2012. Snap.

Blocked



Colin has had a fever for two days and I've had writer's block.

I'm envious of bloggers who can just write out their lives freely, daily, and it doesn't seem to give them hiccups to talk about anything and everything from their emotional issues to breakfast recipes. I open a page and stare blankly at nothingness and panic myself further into total block. Common, I know.

And hey, I write more than most.

But I still long to be one of those people that has an ongoing and sincere dialogue about myself with others, with whomever is reading, without fretting endlessly over what I'm saying.

I started writing for Art & Musings, in part because it was (is) a great opportunity, but most importantly I knew that if I had a commitment to someone else, a whole new audience of readers, I would find it easier to rise to the task of regular communication.

Which I have.

And to be honest, it's much easier for me to write a column that isn't for myself. It's definitely something I'm enjoying thoroughly, and causes me to think harder about who I am and what I want to say at all.

Ideally, my own blog would serve as a more casual venue for my ongoing thoughts, as well as my own personal artsy stuff, and a place to show you my new work.

But I just can't seem to get there. Well, past the artsy stuff anyway.

I don't know why I would feel awkward and obsessively anxious to discuss what I eat for breakfast, but I do. Other bloggers don't seem to have this problem, and I both judge them for talking about "boring" topics and feel jealous that they have the confidence to do so.

Because the truth is, I don't find it boring, and I am interested in what they have for breakfast, because we're all people and I'm interested in who other people are, and how their minds operate, and what their daily lives are like. Obviously I'm more interested to read about people's various personal struggles, emotional issues, and life victories, but I eat breakfast too, and I'm interested in all of it.

I have this awkward habit of vacillating between being too blunt and forward with people and then pulling back entirely so that I don't risk anyone knowing too much about anything in my life. The extremes are a sign of discord, and somewhere balanced in the middle would be ideal. I'm pretty sure half the people in the world think I'm confident and together and the other half think I'm crazy.

I'd like to say that I plan on getting better at succeeding at all of this, but I'm not going to. I'm not actually sure that I will finish what I'm writing now, or feel it's worthy of sharing once I'm done. Really, I just opened the page and started blathering.

On the other hand, I guess that was the whole point.

Echo . 20x20 inches . 2011

oh hey! new art!






1. natural light
2. interior light
3. interior light and blacklight combined
4. blacklight only
5. no light (glow in the dark)

This is one of those paintings that glows in a fascinating, bizarre way that I just adore. When you first turn off the lights, it's almost like your eyes have to adjust, and then the glow just gets brighter and brighter and brighter right in front of you. I came downstairs in the dark a few nights ago and it was like a beacon of light, I was impressed myself with how bright it looked. (I generally don't have time to sit in front of my artwork in the dark for hours at a time just staring at it to see what will happen, so I often am surprised with things like this by accident. It's actually awesome that way, and makes me feel like a kid at Christmas!)

It's a wonderful thing to be excited at your own art. :)

This piece is the first in what I'm casually (and affectionately) referring to as my "teal collection" because... well, a lot of it is based around the color Teal. (Or turquoise, or aqua, or however you might refer to the myriad of shades between blue and green.) My favorite color. :)

Echo is $1000, available either in my Etsy shop, or email me if you'd like to purchase it another way. :)