Tag Archives: life

Promise of Spring

Promise of Spring

This painting I have titled Promise of Spring. The river starts to open up, and the days are longer amid the persistent chill in the air. I think of the song, Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most.  I am in my cocoon, recharging like a phone. promise of spring painting Scroll down to see my recent mono-prints. Not all is new, I have unfinished paintings that have been taking ever so long to complete. I think this one is done, Promise of Spring, Acrylic on gallery wrap canvas, sides painted, no need to frame, 16 x 20. My style is changing somewhat, while in this transition period, I have noticed the old tries to hang on and the new struggles to break through. When this happens, as always, it is time to trust the process. Reevaluating and regrouping are where my focus at the moment. Getting down to the core of things, back to my true essence, I will hang on to it this time. A progressed version of myself is likely to emerge, as many things have been incubating. So many distractions along the way can bury one’s voice.

Listen to the Heart

Finding my way back to hearing my own heart, I require plenty of solitude. Before that, I was experiencing too much interference in my field. My attention span isn’t what it used to be. A significant observation is that the environment we choose to be in influences our lives. Ideally, I can block out the noise; at least, I thought I could. These last two years have been a healing journey after leaving an environment that was detrimental to me. And yet, I chose to be there, so I take the lessons learned in stride. It was unfortunate because I loved my space. That lesson has been learned more than once.

Creative Process

  To restart my creative process, I have made a daily habit of sketching and have been experimenting with some gelli prints. Sometimes, when in turmoil, my art can only incubate and production slows down. Trying something different is an excellent way to inspire ourselves, find another point of view and freshen our creativity. The process of creation is ever-fluid, and results are unpredictable. Doing prints is unexpected; not all turnout, yet many pleasant surprises exist. Nevertheless, I feel a release, even if the results are not usable. One thing leads to another; I strive to spend every moment creating something new. It is a form of therapy for me. Before I know it, my creative juices start to flow, and I am in the zone.

In Real Life

Realization of life comes through creative expression. Oscar Wilde was right in his 1889 essay The Decay of Lying, when he said, “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life”. Art is the catalyst for a life well lived. Whether you are the artist, the art or the audience, you are part of the process.  So what are you creating? Dig deep and make it real.

Instinct & Evolution

blood moon

Pensive gradual descent into the cool mist, penumbra moon, encircled by a ring of light, colder weather to come. Floorboards creak underfoot with a groan.

The fog was thick the few nights surrounding the last full moon. And now the new moon has passed too and now it is full again.

It is hard to believe we are three quarters through November. The morning bright light seems too early, since the time change, and evening chill creeps in like a fox. Winter has arrived dry snow crunches loudly underfoot. It held off longer than I would have thought possible, so I will not complain. I got the bulbs dug out last Sunday and the rain barrel emptied just in time for winter to arrive Monday.

winter geese

These geese flew overhead this morning, complaining loudly.They were headed southeast. Can you blame them?

Though I do my best to bring light to the darkest moments, it does not seem sufficient at times.

I’ve had a glimpse, so I continue, though returning to my true nature turns out to be a taller order than I had ever imagined.

The journey back to wellness has been a steep climb, a treacherous path where it is easy to lose one’s footing.

home

Current state of affairs; I have not painted for six months. This has been my home for six years. I am looking for a new residence, as the owners are returning from abroad.

I will have many fond memories from this place. The cats and I have loved the neighbourhood, the yard, the garden, birds and the big trees.

Hope I can find something with as much character and with wonderful neighbours like I currently have. Another tall order.

Moving will help to shift the energy. Things cannot remain the same. I remind myself of the commitment to rewrite my story, unveiling authenticity. It is like untangling a ball of twine, allowing all to unfold. Evolution is inevitable.

I Have Seen

Johnston LakeI Have Seen

… yellow leaves scattered upon the ground already! And I have also seen beautiful scenery this past weekend which I spent in Canmore and Banff.

What a pleasure to have such beauty so close by.

I drove there in a vicious thunderstorm. Due to construction, I crawled the one lane out of Calgary traffic. Instead of counting license plates, my entertainment challenge was to try to snap pictures of the lightning. Really it has been the challenge of summer, my trying to get lightning shots to no avail. Knowing the degree of difficulty, when it comes to that phenomenon, I am appreciative of shots others have been fortunate enough to capture. Luck and timing plays a major role in that. Something like life.

HawkThe hot springs are not so hot this summer-excessive runoff perhaps. Nonetheless I enjoyed the rejuvenating benefits of the minerals. We took a hike the following day around Johnston Lake, which you see in the photo.

A light misty rain from clouds of gray didn’t dampen our appreciation for such a beautiful serene place. Nor did it stop the loons from calling while a hawk circled overhead. Seizing a bird in flight on one of it’s many circles around the lake seemed like ample opportunity. More than likely it was the bird’s opportunity for feeding time.

Now, the weekend behind me I am back to my own sort of reality. Once again thrown into the whirlwind of jobs to be done, schedules and material concerns. The fence builders are hard at work, and say our new fence will be done at the end of the week. Something tells me winter woollies are not far away, except that I wish it weren’t true.

Distance

I can still sense the mountains in the distance. Their energy has become a part of me once again. Drawing on their strength will carry me for a time, along the road my existence.

Bittersweet

Bittersweet

You never know what is in store for you on any given day. Friday night several of us were decorating the hall for a very special party, a friend’s sixtieth birthday party. Sadly, Patricia, the birthday girl, was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s), a motor neuron disease, fifteen months ago. I have watched this vibrant, clever, compassionate, loving, independent woman, as she succumbs to this vile paralysis which leaves the mind intact.

So many preparations went into planning this all so important party. While decorating, I spotted a piano. Upon investigating, I found it to be in tune. Not having touched a piano in five years, it felt strangely new, yet familiar at the same time. A great majority of my life has revolved around music, having come from a musical family. Awkwardly I stretched my mind to remember the music I had once known. I did not know it was an audition.

piano moiWell, you guessed it … yours truly was elected to play during dinner on Saturday night. At first I balked, “I am too rusty!” My dear friend, who only holds my best interests at heart, was not taking no for an answer. The look on her face said it all. My only recourse was to gather my courage and brave the inner storm I could feel washing over me.

Tripping, at times, over chord progressions and lost notes, I continued on. Mistakes melted away, mistakes no one even noticed. My contribution was well received by all, especially by the birthday girl. Unable to speak, she smiled as I told her afterwards, “I was playing for you Patricia. Thank you for the opportunity.” Then I kissed her on the cheek.

Besides sharing a priceless gift, that opportunity was to set aside fear, forging forward. A practice which I hope will overflow, into other areas of my life. Patricia once told me, “Keep your inner light burning bright. Keep it out there.” Those words will stay with me always, a legacy, left for me. Whenever I even entertain the idea of giving up, I shall recall those words and allow them to propel me forward.
Thank you Patricia. And it was a good party!

Patricia’s Blog (now closed)
Patricia is able to blog
using a wireless BINDHI head mouse
thanks to the
ALS Society


“Love the moment. Flowers grow out of dark moments. Therefore, each moment is vital. It affects the whole. Life is a succession of such moments and to live each, is to succeed.”
~Corita Kent

 

A Day in the Life

dayinlife

 

 

 

Just another day in the life … The minute I crawl out of bed, I put on a pot of the ‘Nectar of the Gods’. Brushing my teeth while computer boots up, the coffee is soon ready. I diddle around for far too long on the computer, until I am warmed up to paint.

I discover in my email an invitation to join someone’s blog community, so I check out his profile. He is in France(must be those translation tools again), looks to be about twenty something, and has four pictures of himself, shirtless, showing off a six pack, if indeed it is him. I look at his blog. He has five hundred and thirty five friends, with a tag someone has left him, asking “How many of them are close friends?”

I go off to the studio with another coffee and chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. I find it helpful to take breaks between painting sessions, and I usually pick up on my way through the house, a fragile attempt at housework. Sometimes I even cook something.

Paint some more, even though the housework is only half finished. I decide to take a bath. I book a couple of client appointments while I am in the bath. Usually I have a bath before I go to work, so the cats immediately start sulking, convinced I am going out, and they won’t get playtime in the yard.

I take them out, my hair dries in the sun, reading ‘Art and Fear’ in the garden, while they wait for me to drag a stick across the ground, so they can fight over who is going to get to chase it first.
I notice the sun is going down, spectacular with the smoky haze coming from the fires in Montana. It casts a golden glow.

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