Love the craft

Mary’s open studio today. A well of inspiration. And the most inspiring thing? Her love of her practice.

Because, above all, what keeps an artist going - what keeps you and me going - is our love of a thing. First and foremost, before anything, you have to love it.

Dennis Palumbo:

“Inspiration, by its very nature, cannot be grasped or looked for, and certainly not commanded to show up. It emerges, I believe, in the deepening layers of craft…

The peaks of achievement, whether in the arts, sports, or any area of endeavor, come from a love of the day-to-day practice of the thing.

Because the truth is, in any consistent endeavor, you spend most of the time not on the peaks but on the level ground, where you rarely see any noticeable improvement. If you just live for, or get pleasure from, the peaks, you never grow.

Love the craft, the practice of your art, and the peaks will come.”

You are: creative

Spread from my mini-zine-love-letter, Dear Creative. I'll mail one to you for free, just go here 🖤

Two small sketches

Two small sketches. Something about where the water meets the sky. Something about being underwater and there being beauty there and the makings of something new beneath the surface.

Something about how being underwater makes being above water all the more bright and beautiful and makes you more able to bear and hold it all. Makes you more brave and fluid and flexible.

Trash/Treasure

Happy place: making mixed media at Mary’s. A bucket full of scraps and some glue.

It doesn’t take much to make me happy. And it’s part of the thrill of making: turning something one might think of as trash, into something else.

This kind of alchemy is important in life, in art.

Shit happens. But how do we respond to it? And can we stay open to the unfolding? Can we stay open to what beauty might appear from a pile of scraps?

It’s a lesson in expectation and our posture in life. Can we arrive to the pile without judgement, without expectation? Can we hold space for something more than meets the eye to emerge?

Something more expansive

I have a new print for you.

It’s called I Need Space. Shout out to Elon Musk! Just kidding. This print isn’t about that space.

It’s about the deluge of information we’re hit with daily and the need for something more expansive.

Something more peaceful.

Something that gives our hearts and minds space to breathe and be.

You know?

Check out more photos and info on this print in my store. Hope you love it.

“To the mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders.”

— Lao Tzu

The wild things we are

Thinking about my cat this morning. A realtor friend found her in the wall of a house she was selling. She couldn’t keep her because she was allergic.

I’m allergic, too, but we kept her. At least until I couldn’t keep her anymore. After which, she went to live with my parents, who found her one day in the garage, passed on.

Chimi was a wild thing. A fierce thing. Wanted to be outside. Wanted to be climbing trees and chasing birds.

As much as we wanted to keep her safe inside, we couldn’t change her.

You can’t change the nature of things.

And why should you try?

Reminded me of the poem, Famous by Naomi Shihab Nye. Set to film here.

She writes about our desire to be seen and recognized — in our own ways. In relation to what’s important to us.

As the wild things we are.

Have something to say

“Have something to say.” These were the words written on the table under the loom I was working on at Mary’s studio.

See them in the red?

Who has nothing to say, though?

The only thing that compels me to make is having something to say. Too much to say, maybe.

I’m like a blow up air mattress. I need a way to release the valve, to let some of this air out. We all do.

What are the things that help you express yourself and release the valve?

For me?

• Music

• Meditation

• Moving my body

• Making

Even if you have nothing to say, which I doubt is true, there is communication in the expression. Maybe the saying is in the doing.

Level up your mail game

Working on a batch of Patreon mail art. Every month I send art in the mail - usually small prints, like the ones pictured above, but sometimes other things. I love mail. Who doesn’t? Unless it’s a bill, which it usually is.

All the more reason for you to make sure there’s at least one good thing in that mailbox every month, right?

For $5/month you can join my Cool Kid Tier. And you know what? I’d love that. It helps to support my practice so I can keep making art. With the support over the last year, I was able to purchase my first “real” printer so I can make prints at home! It’s how I made these babies!

Full circle moment.

On change

Yesterday’s lunch from Marie’s barn. Overlooking Ojai Valley. A bird’s eye view. The orchard and oaks and the snow-capped mountains. And the big, blue sky.

A perfect day for painting, Marie said.

Marie is transforming an old barn into studio space. I love a transformation. The old made new again - there’s just something about it.

That’s us, too. Different people today than we were yesterday. Always changing, even on a cellular level.

The person who makes something today isn’t the same person who returns to the work tomorrow. — Rick Rubin

Change is the universal truth. If you don’t change, changes will definitely change you. — Rehman M

A way of being

I’m reading The Creative Act by Rick Rubin and so far yes. Yes to everything. I love the way he writes. Minimal. Poetic. Elegant. And from a place of wisdom.

There’s no need to guild a lily.

Wisdom has inherent beauty. You don’t need to make it pretty with flowery language or even illustrative stories. You just need to give it space to breathe.

I ran into my friend, Fran, at the market yesterday. “I haven’t been collaging lately”, she said. “Good,” I replied.

Gestation is a thing, too. There’s a time to create and there’s a time to rest. To take in. To synthesize. To buy your favorite wine. To savor.

Art isn’t a profession, it’s a way of being.

Making art is what makes you an artist

I majored in Art History in college. Since then I have never been under any delusion that making money at art makes you an artist. Or that, as artists, we’ve failed somehow if our main source of income isn’t from our art.

Too many artists have passed on before anyone at all valued their work in terms of money (hello, van Gogh).

The simple truth? Making art is what makes you an artist.

Be the joy

Pictured above is today’s office a.k.a. the studio of fellow artist, friend and mentor, Mary Neville! We’re taking a workshop together and I promise to share more about that later.

For now, let me say a thing about Mary.

Mary is awesome. Her art is wonderful and is what first drew me to her. As I get to know her, I’m discovering the heart behind the art. She’s a trove of wisdom. And her joy is her compass.

Mary reminds me that my joy is a thing to protect.

Some days, the negativity comes out of nowhere and gets the best of me. Other days, I seek it out. I feel compelled to help, to lighten a load or change a point of view.

But that’s not my job.

Not really anyway.

My job is to find my joy and protect it. To be the light and all that jazz - not hide it under a bushel or let someone else trample it out — no!

Pema says our wealth is our warmth and our brilliance. Let that sink in. She says, THIS is who we are.

WARM. BRILLIANT.

On the days the negativity gets in, may we remember our true wealth and reach for it.

May we exude warmth.

May we ooze brilliance.

May we be the fucking joy!

“We already have everything we need. There is no need for self-improvement. All these trips that we lay on ourselves—the heavy-duty fearing that we’re bad and hoping that we’re good, the identities that we so dearly cling to, the rage, the jealousy and the addictions of all kinds—never touch our basic wealth. They are like clouds that temporarily block the sun. But all the time our warmth and brilliance are right here. This is who we really are.”

— Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living Source

Spooky Things

Actually, we weren’t even dressed for Halloween. Just naturally Spooky? All credit goes to Jules at The Vortex for an amazing party and photo booth. I could have spent all night in there.

Two Things:

1.

Life is fragile.

Wednesday night I was at a meeting. When it let out, I got caught up chatting. I ended up being nearly the last person to leave.

I was walking to my car alone on a dark, gravel road. There wasn’t even a proper sidewalk. And I was walking fast because it was cold. That is, until, in an instant, I found myself in said gravel.

Of course it all happened in slow motion. And thankfully all I have is a badly bruised hand and a scraped up knee.

2.

We better enjoy today.

Tomorrow isn’t promised. And, I think, maybe living in the moment, today, right now, is the key to overcoming an anxious heart/mind.

Because right now, in this moment, everything is okay.

It really is. And maybe it wasn’t in that moment we fell. And maybe it won’t be tomorrow. But right now, as I sit here, typing with one swollen hand and the other scraped — it’s okay. I’m okay. And for right now, that’s all I need it to be.

Found art

I went on a walk today. Been trying to do more of that. It’s amazing how my mind fights this. As if a walk could harm me somehow. Don’t do it! it says.

The days I can override this ridiculous voice, I consider a victory. Not every day is like that.

I will tell you this: it helps me to have a mission of some sort. I live close to town so I can walk to run an errand. Or, like today, my mission was to see what I could find.

My neighborhood is an interesting one, so that helps. Often I find things labeled “free”. More times than not, it’s nothing I’d want, but once in a while I’ll find a treasure.

Today’s treasure? Nature. True confession: I picked the daisy. How could I not? The other two were on the ground as if no one wanted them anymore.

Some days you make art, other days you find it.

Your subconscious is talking to you

Recently I was watching the Sinead O’Connor documentary “Nothing Compares”. Full disclosure: I didn’t make it through to the end. It was heavy and intense and mostly if I’m watching tv I need a laugh or a warm fuzzy. But before I tapped out, I did catch this wisdom she shares as it relates to her songwriting process:

“You often hear artists say that they’re channeling something. I think actually you’re channeling yourself, your subconscious is talking to you. I just had these songs inside that had to come out.”

You know what’s been inside me? A voice saying, “Buy the printer.”

Yeah. I guess some of us have smash hit songs inside and some of us have to do lists?

Buy the printer, it said.

Yeah. For a while I’ve been thinking about making some bigger art. Most of my stuff is small. It would be fun to do large prints of drawings and photos and collage them, IT SAID. My HP-deskjet-100-that-is-so-ancient-it-can’t-even-connect-to-my-new-computer was not going to bring this dream to life.

Buyyy thaaa priiiinterrrr. (said in alien voice)

Hey I’m like any other human out there. I get analysis paralysis and it can hold me back. Instead of buying the printer I had researched and crowd sourced and knew that I wanted, I told myself lies - or the voice in my head did. It’s too expensive. You don’t really need it. Only real artists get real printers.

Uh, hi self-sabotage!

The other morning I went on a walk with a painter/friend/mentor. An intuitive artist like myself, she shared with me how there was a point awhile back when she had a toxic best friend (uh oh), a real energy vampire. Her paintings at the time were full of black—blocks and thick lines.

At one point, she stepped back and the work revealed itself to her, gave her a message. IT SAID: Girl, this black paint is the toxicity you feel in your relationship with your best friend. You feel trapped by this. GET OUT.

OH MY GOODNESS WHO IS THIS VOICE?

IT KNOWS THINGS.

It knows when we need to ditch the toxic friend and it knows when we need to buy the printer. It’s like a river rushing inside and all we need to do is dive in and take a little swim. I hear the water’s warm!

Ben Gibbard of Death Cab (an old celeb crush from way back) writes this in his song ‘I Was a Kaleidoscope’:

I put on my overcoat and walked into winter / my teeth chattered rhythms / And they were grouped in twos or threes / like a morse code message was sent from me to mec

A message sent from me to me. That’s it. Subconscious to conscious. You put on the coat and you walk outside. You pick up the pen and put it to paper. You grab the guitar and start to strum. And you see what’s there, what’s waiting. You tap into the kaleidoscope of you.

What do you have to say to you?

Anais Nin:

“Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.”

Listen to yourself. Trust yourself. Have the faith to step into whatever THE BIG IT is asking you to do. Be the bud in bloom. Dare to weave, to risk, to live the big, juicy, creative life that is exclusively yours to live!

What’s your word of the year?

What do I want more of in my life? Who inspires me and why? How do I want to feel? How do I want to show up in the world?

The other day, my good friend, Mike, asked me if I made any resolutions this year. Resolutions, goals — they’re a tricky thing for me. There’s this thing in me that prefers to focus on BEING over DOING.

I’m much more interested in who I want to be/come vs what I want to do.

And I think when you focus on the intention, the doing follows.

For example: I want to be a more generous person.

An intention like that can play out in so many ways. I can be generous with my time, with my words, with my money.

What starts in the heart, translates to action, and almost without our knowing, can have so many expressions.

Here’s another: I want to be be healthier.

Again, this can look like so many things: taking time for morning pages, starting the day with a walk, finding a therapist, working on a better relationship with your partner? etc..

It starts in the heart. The action follows. The intention leads to the doing leads to the feeling. I wonder if you have a word of the year. And I wonder if you do, if you could give it some sort of shape in the real world - a sketch, an outfit, a poem? Maybe even a collection of items to set on altar; a set of reminders, in the physical, like a tangible prayer.

If you don’t have a word, you might ask yourself: What do I want more of in my life? Who inspires me and why? How do I want to feel? How do I want to show up in the world? The answers to these questions may hold some wisdom.

Fly on

I’m watching a flock of mourning doves outside my window. Across the street, my neighbor has bird feeders and the doves have made a home there — but they’re not feeding. They’re airing out their wings between a parade of California storms. They’ve taken to the sky while the sky is clear.

Welcome to 2023. “Out with the old” as they say. I’m feeling the need to spread my wings and shake the water loose like the doves. I want to shake loose everything I don’t need — the fears and heaviness and the toxic relationships and all that weighs me down.

How do you rise above it all and keep rising?

Embrace your softness like Seth.

Remind yourself that you’re not on anyone else’s schedule but yours like Gabrielle.

Buy flowers and create what feels good like Robin.

Follow your highest excitement like Agnes.

Count your blessings like Leo.

Today I woke up, changed from pajamas to sweats, made coffee, worked on a puzzle with my daughter, swept the kitchen floor. I grabbed a garbage bag and went room to room, filling it with trash, and then I walked the trash bag out to the bin and threw it in. When I came back to the house, I stopped at the front door, stomping - left, right, left - against the doormat. I shook loose the mud from the souls of my boots.

There’s a time to gather and store up and take in.

And there’s a time to empty and shake loose and fly!