Short term, Long term, Where are my memories?

Today was a very busy day.  I had 3 sunrises to deliver in a nearby town,  two here in my own town, make time to work on an outdoor mural, deliver a felted tapestry to Rolling Hills Wildlife Adventure and meet a new private art student at my gallery.  So I got the 2 sunrises delivered here in town, took the 3 elsewhere and then went to paint.  Got a call about how much the client loved the 2 but would I mind signing both of them!  I forgot to sign them!!!!  When I delivered the 3, I forgot that this client wanted to have them framed herself instead of having me do it.  How could I forget that when I don’t really even enjoy framing!!!  So when I got to the home to start painting, I reached in the back seat to get the new paint I’d just ordered…..No paint was there.  I left it at home.  Strike 3 and I should be out but there was more.  I went out to Rolling Hills and we unfolded the 8 foot long felt and one of the claws had disappeared!  We looked everywhere but it wasn’t there.  And the piece of velcro I bought to staple to the 8 ‘ board, which I thought was 6 yards long was only 6 feet long!  Of course it was too short.  Finally, we resolved this problem by finding pieces of velcro around the zoo.  So I started home and got a call from the mother of the girl I am suppose to teach today.  They understood we were to meet at 4pm.  I understood 7pm.  I’m sure they were probably right, but everything turned out OK.  And nothing catostrophic happened!  But I am constantly reminded of the journal pages I made for my Brain Blog book.  Life will never be quite as organized as it might have once been before brain tumors, but it certainly isn’t bad.

Addendum:  I found out last night that I put the wrong date on a sunrise commerrating the birth of a baby.  I put the date of the 10th wedding anniversary on it instead!  Where someone else might say, “Why did I get out of bed today?”, I respond with “I am so thankful I was able to get out of bed and able to make so many mistakes in one day!”

It is rewarding to get to teach art to others.   I’ve had the privilage to teach to groups of aspiring artists as well as to individuals.  There are benefits to both for the student.  In a group, there are each person gets to observe the skills of the others.  Everyone shares these differences.  When there are a number of people, someone will always ask a question another didn’t think about so we all get to hear information which otherwise might not have been addressed.  If there is  time when everyone receives a critique, it is so insightful to get to hear and observe what is said about each person’s work. The artist tends to be a solitary person, so groups can help make necessary  circles.

However when you teach an individual person, one on one, there are also many great advantages.  One of my objectives as a private teacher is to help the student find their voice through their art, their individuality and their style.  This can be hard to do in a group setting.  The critiques can be a little more intense, and more directed.  This is the praising as well as evaluating what could make it a better piece of art.  And there is always the time factor.  No one spends the same amount of time on their work.  When you’re working next to someone who is really fast and you’re not, it can make you feel inadequate.  It’s encouraging to be able to find an individual’s pace with acceptance.   Finally, in a private teaching situation, if there is a good chemistry, there is just that teacher/student relationship insisting on excellence catapulting the student into who they should be as an artist.

Just when I question doing the sunrise because it isn’t quite what I think it should be, I force myself to do it anyway.  This morning was very strange because I couldn’t tell if the sky was cloudy or clear.  It was so different.  So, at first, I didn’t paint it.  Then the sun began to rise and I saw that the sky above was actually pretty clear and the sun was coming up in a sort of monotone haze.  A very different sky.   What is interesting is that I had listened to the weatherman.  He said it was suppose to rain today so from my assumptions, I decided it was gray overcast.  Well, it did cloud up in late morning but if I had ignored the sky completely, I would have missed an unusual painting.  And then, this afternoon, a lovely client called and asked for today’s sunrise because it is her tenth wedding anniversary!

Sunrise, May 11, 2011

Debbie Wagner's 2-D work and Terri Horner's sculpture work

Debbie and Terri in front of their work

people gathered at the Lincoln Art Center

Others gathering to listen to us talk

The Lincoln Art Center

Anxiety always seems to find me right before an opening, yet so many people have commented on how social they think I am!  I have come to realize that once an event starts, I really do enjoy talking with others, and it is always incredibly exhilarating to discuss the purpose of my work.  However, when it is time for me to talk to a group, I am a fumbler!  In fact, I am such a fumbler, I can’t even remember what I said so that I could beat myself up later with what I could have said!  My husband usually insures me I did just fine and that my words made sense, but I just wish I could remember for myself!

So as I begin to work alone in my studio, I realized that I enjoy my own company.  I never get tired of creating and thinking about my work.  My studio is always quiet, no music, no distractions and that’s the way I prefer it.  It is actually when I feel the most comfortable, a big contrast to the opening nights.  After a day alone, I enjoy and appreciate a world full of others.

Today, I delivered 3 sunrises.  Two were celebrating the birth of grandchildren and the 3rd was for the confirmation of an 8 year old girl.  As I delivered each one, I sat and listened to the stories of each person.  And after I sat for around 1/2 hour with the 3rd person, I realized that even though these sunrises start out as my story, they end up in someone else’s home, representing a new story–a story in their lives.  My story is the reason they get painted.  Their story is the reason someone else buys a certain sunrise on a certain date!  It is a special blending of the lives of people who may or may not have known each other before but through these small paintings, there is suddenly a connection.  What a privilage it is to get to paint these sunrises.  It’s a special kind of socializing through art.

Sunrise

I enjoy painting landscapes.  When we are hiking or visiting someplace new or I see a beautiful vista, my thoughts circle around how I would paint this scene.  Colors I would use, what I would include in the painting and a desire to record what I am seeing in a visual way.  Even more exciting to me to paint are still life paintings.  From somewhere in my story telling mind, a still life painting emerges to tell a story from my personal life experiences.  This must feel something like the short story writer, the birthing of a story, and I really love painting still life.  But probably the most exciting subject to paint is the human figure.  Here is where I can connect to the human experience, those raw emotions we have all encountered.  Trying to capture the soul of people is a fabulous feat to work towards.  It’s where truth of our journey here on earth comes from.  I prefer to paint all my subjects from life, sunrises, still life and the human figure.  They all move me in different ways, but the human figure moves me the most; to paint and to view.  Because I’m so touched by every day occurences and because I can’t seem to turn my imagination off, I will paint the most dominant subject(s) occupying the cavities of my mind in the moment.

My major at the University of Kansas was Chinese.  And a minor in French.  I love learning language.  One of the most interesting part of learning another language is when you find a word in that language in which there is no translation into the English language to represent what that word means!  Even translating a word like Love or You, plural can sometimes be impossible.  When I create a piece of art, the same exciting feelings of speaking in another language come forth.  I’m not sure I could master speaking another verbal language, my hearing just doesn’t work well enough, but I do enjoy the chance to speak about issues important to me with my art.  I am really going to start examining what I want to say and how I can say it in a visual way.  This could be part of my sudden attraction to altering books and putting my own twist into it!  Here are two more pages from my Brain Blog book.

A page from my Brain Blog book

another Journal Page

Last night, I went to a collage workshop in Lindsborg, Kansas the home of art and many artists.  It’s a wonderful town and it is always so much fun to meet the artist’s in residence who come to stay at the Red Barn Studio.  Sandy Milroy from NC is there visiting now.  So we got to work with collage under her teaching.  I usually have a very difficult time creating if I’m not alone, especially working in an area I’m not too familiar with.  So my goal this time was to find that personal alone spot while in a group so I could actually work next to others.  I tried to keep it simple because that is how I communicate the best.  I worked on 2 pieces.  The first one had quite a bit more imagery than the 2nd.  I always think that is what I’m suppose to do with collage—-pile on the images.  So I slowed down for the 2nd one and I like the simplicity so much more.  It speaks to me without confusing me and leaving me wondering what to look at.   The first one is about art in Africa and how they use their art to tell stories and poems.  It has a rhythm to it like a song.  The 2nd piece is about the wars of ideas we have going on personally and globally.  My own personal debates as well as debates which the pictures seem to talk about:   Black vs White, a 3rd world nation vs the US, the difference in women and their role in society, materialism vs the reality of etching out a living.  I often ponder our luxurious life we have here in this country.  And I appreciate all I have available to me on a daily basis.

Visual Poets

Internal Wars: War of Ideas

I know many artists who can write one statement and use it for all their shows. Unfortunately, I am not one of them. My work is continually evolving and every show is so different than previous shows. My old statements never seem to fit. So, after painfully rewriting my statement for the Lincoln Art Center, this is what I ended up with:
“My life has always revolved around artistic endeavors . This journey manifested itself through the years in myriad forms, but was hampered by the urgency of motherhood and life’s distractions. Initial devotion to my career as a full time artist began in 2001 and intensified in 2002 when I had two brain tumors removed. While facing the uncertainty of recovery, I re-evaluated my life ambitions. I spent the next 9 years in a love affair with pastels, following all the rules recorded in the back of my mind like a mother’s voice: “For a landscape, always follow the divisions of thirds on your canvas.”; “Stick to one medium so you can master it and be recognized for that one process.”; “Stay with one style so people will understand who you are and will know what to expect from your work.”; “Don’t use too much color, it’s childlike.”; and “NEVER use words in your paintings.”
Although these rules have also been adversarial, my intellect wouldn’t let me wrestle with them until a couple of years ago. I had ideas which I just couldn’t find a voice for in pastel, so I began to explore fiber as an art medium, even though I struggled with residual guilt during the exploration period. I love color and I love works with words embedded in them, so while I was exploring the realm of fiber, I included both. It was a time of release from those limiting voices and changed my career as an artist. At the same time, I noticed the horizon line in my sunrises had become minimal. I was journeying beyond those rules which I had so faithfully followed.

The next change happened in the fall of 2010 when I began helping a young man, a brain tumor survivor, with his recuperation. For the first time, I began an art journal documenting my own recovery, something I had not been psychologically able to do. I have made so many discoveries about myself and my art through this personal journey. The joy I experience as these techniques merge is always a surprise, and my artistic processes have become more complex. This show, titled “Journey,” is a culmination of the past ten years and the freedom of superseding traditional rules. The next series of projects will evolve from this freedom to explore my inner voice and find my own path. This exhibition represents where I have come from as an artist and shows the beginning essence of where I am going.”

It often takes me as long to write the statement as it takes to prepare for the show. And my statements often change as I work, needing constant care and tweaking. Writing, in this sense seems to have many similarities to painting. You have to know that the last stroke is the finish.