Infinity (and beyond)

stitchingtheworld

A few years ago, I took an online course on the Eastern Indian Wisdom Goddesses.  One of these Goddesses, Bhuvaneshwari by name, creates worlds.  And worlds within worlds.  An infinity of worlds.  Perhaps she stitches or weaves them.  As in this painting.  And then, maybe she flings them off into the vast universe(s).  What are they going to become?

I like the image of this…that some great Goddess is out there constantly creating worlds.  It’s as if she’s stretching her wild imagination to engage yet another possibility.  Isn’t that what we’re being called to do now.  In this time of Covid Virus, social unrest, political upheaval, planetary degradation–how can we recreate the world?  How can we recreate ourselves in this current world?  We have an opportunity.  When there is chaos, there is expanded possibility.

I was listening to a speaker yesterday…his name is Bayo Akomolafe.  Bayo is a wise thinker and activist for our times.  I liked this line, this idea, his suggestion:

“Let’s stay with the trouble of our becoming.  Let’s see what that does to us.”

I appreciate this thought because I notice how I, we, anyone wants things to return to “normal.”  To settle down and actually go backwards into what was, but no longer is.
To find an escape of some sort so we don’t have to deal with what is happening right now.  However, if we can stay with the trouble of our becoming, perhaps there is hope for something beyond that, some growth spurt of oneself and then the exponential factor can come into play–the growth spurt of many.  I hope so.

Following is a five-minute video clip of Bayo Akomolafe speaking on the “cultural myth that sets up man as central to the universe…”  I appreciate his way of perceiving and thinking outside of the boxes that we’ve accepted as the way it is.  I like to stretch my mind to think more broadly and to be more inclusive.

I hope that you take time to listen to this and let me hear what you think.

The Scroll

the scroll

These days, we rarely (if ever) see someone standing on a podium reading from a scroll.  At least, I don’t.  Decrees, notices, announcements, rules, regulations, messages.

This painting evolved from a class taught in Paint Your Heart and Soul.  The angel looks a bit worried.  As if she isn’t looking forward to reading the message on the scroll.  We all want good tidings.  Perhaps it’s time to write your own message and start sharing it with others.

When 911 happened, the soul plummeted.  A dear friend and I went for a walk in the forest.  He often recalled that was the best action to take at such a time.

Beyond that, what could we do–in the moment?  What did taking action at a time when we felt so helpless look like?  I opened my books of poetry and began searching for and finding hopeful verses.  I wrote them on postcards and sent them out anonymously to friends, old and new.  To family.

What message would you like to read from your scroll?  These difficult days, sending something good off into the world helps to counterbalance the barrage of challenging news. It’s an easy thing to do.  You don’t have to go anywhere (except to mail them) and  you don’t have to sign it unless you want to.

As I’ve noted before, we aren’t letter writers typically.  However, we can write a postcard.  Imagine what a surprise it would be for you to receive a postcard with a message of hope or support from someone you haven’t heard from in years!

Take Time to be Quiet

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Quieting the mind isn’t easy.  There’s so much news and noise!  And then, there’s our inner reaction to it all!  So much that fills our heads with blah, blah and blah!

She has found a cave, a refuge where she can rest and contemplate…away from the noise of the media.  At first her mind can’t slow down…there’s this, then that and on and on.  Yet she stays there, in her cave, until finally all the thoughts seem like passing clouds, not noteworthy, nothing to react to, attach to or address…shhh.

Within this quiet, she begins to become aware of her own deep knowing.  Ah, yes.  Something that looks like a truth glimmers and then rises to the surface of her awareness.  She softly lingers with it.  Watches it.  Lets it inform her.  So that when she goes back, out into the world, she has something of value to offer.  She almost doesn’t need to speak it…because, now, she emanates what she has learned.

Shhh, go and find your cave…go there again and again in these times.

 

The Dive

A couple of years ago, I was invited by a local art gallery to preview an art exhibit, choose a painting and write a poem referencing that painting.  The painting that spoke to me was of an adolescent girl wearing a swimsuit, standing at the end of a diving board, preparing to dive.  Her body looked rigid, almost like the diving board itself.  Shoulders were raised nearly to her ears; her mouth was tense and straight.  Below is the poem I wrote.

I am not there to read this poem to you.  I’d like you to read it quietly once.  And then, read it aloud to yourself or to someone else.  Feel the poem.  Pretend that you are the diver.

The Dive
©by Christine O’Brien

Feet plugged into the
sticky resin springboard,
I note the space between me and
the crushing water below.
The form I hold.
Buddha stillness.
The grace I invoke
as I design form
gliding through space.
The breath I hold.
The breath I take
like thunder in a canyon
fills my ears.
The shadow of fear
remains at the other end
of the platform
while I stand on the edge
in focused repose.

This is not my first dive
though my raised shoulders,
clamped mouth and clenched jaw
could be interpreted as fear.
There is always that
but with prayer and practice
it quickly transforms
as there is no turning back now.
The dive grooms the diver
in this conspiracy of grace, form and space.
Originally, it was a dare from friends
that sent me up the hot aluminum ladder
on that sweaty summer day.
Now, it’s a drive from within,
not towards perfection
or for judges’ scores.
There is no competition.

It is the ecstasy of flight
that sends me to this precipice.
Neither bird nor stone falling through space,
I am a wingless angel
who rejoices in
those few seconds of airtime.
Body imprinting space
air molecules conforming, buoyant.
I visualize the flex, fold, arc,
the straightening as
I neatly incise the water with my hands,
barely a splash.
I surface a few feet away,
victorious,
a different sort of Phoenix rising.

****
And then I made my own painting of another sort of dive by another sort of creature.

card27

 

Water, Water Everywhere…

Water,Water Everywhere

She does look a bit parched, doesn’t she?  This painting was exhibited in a local art show with the theme of WATER.  Water–not that long ago, living in San Francisco, we could drink tap water.  Bottled water was unheard of.  Now it’s commonplace.

Rather than root out and respond to the cause of impurities in our water, we bottle and ship water from sources that we hope are not contaminated.  We buy water!

I notice how we adapt to the changing circumstances that are caused by our improper use of the earth.

The way that we extract resources–detrimental to the earth and the inhabitants of that land.

The way that we dispose of waste…detrimental to the land and sea and its inhabitants.

The way we package products–detrimental to our health and the environment.

The way we ship products long distances–detrimental to air quality.

What is causing cancer rates to increase?  What is it in our external environment that contributes to this?  The way we eat, drink, the contaminants in our food, our clothing, the air?

STOP!  When do we begin to reverse what we’ve discovered is messing up our environment.  What animal trashes home the way that humans do?

As we tamper with our ecosystems, there is going to be less potable water and more saltwater, undrinkable.  I don’t understand the science of it…but things are heading in that direction.  Neither do I know the timeframe.  That premise is what informed this painting.  It doesn’t have to be this way…but it’s not going to change until human beings gather and stand together to change things for the better.

Earth wants to work with us.  Let’s not ignore the call.

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A few years ago, I watched a full-length video (it’s about twenty-one minutes long) on The Story of Stuff as presented by Annie Leonard.  Following is a two-minute segment that begins to give you an idea of how we make, distribute, use and dispose of stuff.  If you are interested in seeing the entire video, you can find it on YouTube.  I highly recommend it.

 

 

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.

 

Try Something New

landscapea

Being an artist who is committed to growth, it helps to try something new and different.  In this painting, I completely surrendered to Nicole Wikman’s process to paint a landscape.  I love the outcome.  Although it isn’t my style, I learned several very helpful techniques that I can apply elsewhere.

She reiterates the value of a horizon line.  She has a unique technique of laying down a colorful sky.  The brush dances between colors in the sky to reflections of those colors in the water.  The way in which the land and trees are placed establishes perspective and lends depth to the painting.  These are valuable techniques to practice and learn.

That said, I love this piece, and it doesn’t feel like me.

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Land and Sea are big themes for artists.  A contemporary artist, Janette Kerr is known as the “foul weather” painter.  It seems that she spends weeks on boats heading into storms.  There are so-called adrenaline junkies out there and while I’m not one, I applaud the curious nature that leads one into the eye of the storm.  Her work is phenomenal!

 

 

A Mythic Meaning

She Rises1

This painting (not finished  yet) was all about exploration.  I used a liquid masking fluid, played with creating a pool of water.  A Goddess (with uneven eyes) rising from the depths.  Symbolism.  A waterfall cave behind her face.  Her hair, a trellis for a climbing vine.  A butterfly above her eyebrow.  What’s it all mean?

One of these days, when I’m called to, I’ll return to it.  To see where it wants to go next.  For now, it sits behind my sofa in a suspended state.

It seems that artists have a lot of unfinished paintings.  I’m not the only one.  We reach a point of impasse with a piece.  I’m not sure why.  The question “Where do I go from here?” hovers in an air of suspense.  Because we just don’t know.

Being comfortable with the unknown is actually a great quality to have.  The other day, I was not happy with the state of affairs in the world.  Whether the virus or politics or human behavior, geez.  I walked down a road I don’t normally walk down.  Out of nowhere, my cellphone in my fanny pack began playing a song from the film, Frozen.  I don’t know how that song got on my phone!!  The words “I’m afraid of what I’m risking if I follow you into the unknown…” played loud and clear.  These words reflected what I was feeling about leaning into the uncertainty of life in these challenging times in which we are living.

Then, I rounded a curve in the road and someone had written graffiti on a metal gate…
it read “Normalcy is a paved road.  It’s comfortable to walk but no flowers grow on it.”

These two timely messages from the universe shifted my feelings from uncertainty and fear to a sense that I was being (we are being) looked after in ways that we can’t imagine.  That there is something beyond what we can see that is working with us.  And that it wants us to be aware of its presence, its offer to assist us.
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Idina Menzel singing “Into the Unknown” at the Academy Awards.

 

A Scene

Landscape drawing and painting is a whole other territory, no pun intended.  It is one area where I’ve only started to scratch the surface of what there is to know and put into practice.  There I was, on the McCloud River one sunny day.  The elephant ear plants, the rocks crowding the scene, the greenish color of the water–how on earth does an artist begin to capture this?

In a sense, making art is all about impression.  What is the feeling I get when I see this sight in nature?  How do I want to show a river, contained yet in motion?  So I play…with form, light, shadow, image, movement, whimsy.  And while it looks nothing like the original setting, it has an energy about it that I appreciate.

I framed this painting and it sat in a gift shop for at least one year.  Then, they gave it back to me as it hadn’t sold.  I stashed it…until a couple of months ago.

But WAIT!  It wasn’t done!

It went from this…to this.  I named her River Goddess.  When I put this piece in a members only art exhibit at a local gallery, it sold within one week!  I knew that she would sell.  A man, a lawyer, who’d never visited the gallery before purchased the painting.  He was on a tour of the gallery with his rotary club.

Any artist’s journey with a painting is a distinct experience.  It is a tender relationship. Something unique is brought forth through you.  It’s an honor to share in the creative process.  I really do believe that it’s accessible to everyone.

What are your thoughts…how do you invoke your creativity?

Ladder to Heaven

laddertoheaven

With the guidance of artist, Marie Ndolo, I continued to work on the human face.  So much to learn.  And hair, how to paint hair that looks sort of real.

She appears contemplative.  She is pondering the higher realms.  In this painting, the color red is an earthy color, keeping her grounded.  The blue is more ethereal and the image of the ladder floating in space is definitely other-worldly.

Tilting a face, drawing and painting the angle of a face is a challenge.  And, doesn’t a tilted head give a whole other tone to the painting.  Do you think so?  A tilted head is almost like floating a question in the air.  Or listening for an answer, perhaps.

I’ve always liked the image of a ladder floating in space.  Ladders, we climb them to get to something up higher, out of our reach.  It seems like a good symbol for this painting.  Sometimes a stairway suffices.  But no, I like ladders.

Like the one that Georgia O’Keeffe painted, Ladder to the Moon (1958).  The painting is of  a wooden ladder suspended in a turquoise sky.  I wondered what prompted her to paint that?

Here’s what I found out…

“A long, homemade ladder used to lean against Georgia’s house at Ghost Ranch so that she could climb up onto the roof and gaze out at the vast desert landscapes. Sometimes she would even climb up there several times a day. At night she would climb up on the roof if she wanted to gaze and fall asleep under the stars.”

 

john-loengard-georgia-o-keeffe-climbing-a-ladder-outside-ghost-ranch-her-desert-home_i-G-26-2694-3VTUD00Z
“In the picture, a large wooden ladder is leaned against an outer wall of a patio from where it rises up into the sky with the Pedernal Mountains in the background. Some say her immediate surroundings at Ghost Ranch were the inspiration of this piece of art. Others interpret the painting as a religious work. In Pueblo culture the ladder is used to symbolize the link between the Pueblos and cosmic forces. The fact that the ladder is pointed up in the sky may represent the link between nature and the cosmos”

She Stewards the Earth

SheStewardstheEarth.2

Do you upcycle your art?  Valuing her face, her direct look, her expression, I wanted to utilize her in a new painting.  This then became a mixed media piece.  I collaged her face, painted her dress with an earthy color and added symbols.  I did some texturing on the canvas prior to drawing and painting the buffalo.  I also used some “resist” to have the underpainting show through.

All of this to symbolize White Buffalo Calf Woman.

There are many tellings of this story.  Here is one.  (It’s one-and-a-half minutes long.)

I titled this piece “She Stewards the Earth,”
because I believe that women have a deep
connection to the earth.  That in some ways,
we are more deeply aligned with the earth
than men.  That perhaps we are an avenue of
communication between humankind and the earth.
I feel that our bodies are sensors to the disharmony
that the earth is experiencing due to our misuse.

What do you think?