Being the Age that You Are

…and in the times that you live.  Right now, this feels very challenging.  With a pandemic, wildfires  around the earth, worldwide protests arising from ongoing social injustices, political instability, economic crashes, and more!  Who wouldn’t want to escape into the past or a perceived as better future?

How often do I retreat into the past or project into the future in my thoughts?  Often, I’m sure.  I remember thinking that “things would be better when I conquered some aspect of my personality…in the future” or how much more pleasant it is to linger over a rare soft spot in the past.  I do think that sometimes, it is good to recall a moment when I felt powerful in the past, or exceptionally healthy or positive and to draw on that feeling to bring it forward into a challenging time today.  However, idling there isn’t helpful.  And while it’s fine to imagine a better future, now is where the action happens to begin to shift energy.

On my last birthday…I rediscovered magic.  I woke on my birthday feeling unsettled and grumpy.  I felt like cancelling the gathering with three friends.  I had a flexible plan for them to come over around 5:00 p.m., depending on the heat.  We would sit outside, bring our own food and drink, sit socially distant and share carrot cake.  Contemplating cancelling, I thought about the last birthday, a big one, when I was sick.  I thought about how I deserved a party, a celebration of me.  I remembered when I was a girl and had given myself a few birthday parties…because no one else would.  Suddenly, I had the energy to create a special setting for myself and my friends in the backyard.  And the day unfolded from there into a lovely shared experience.

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“Let me stand in my age with all its waters flowing round me.
If they sometimes subdue, they must finally upbear me,  for I
seek the universal and that must be the best.”
Margaret Fuller

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I didn’t know who Margaret Fuller was.  Do you?  It’s amazing to me how many women of some notoriety in their times have slipped through the cracks of “his…story.”

Margaret Fuller was an American journalist, editor, critic, translator, and women’s rights activist (1810 to 1850).  In a brief forty years, she accomplished quite a bit!  She left behind a lot of her writings including a book entitled Woman in the Nineteenth Century.  I encourage you to google her and read a brief bio of her life.  She was a deep thinker of her times.  Anyone who has gone before (our ancestors) sets the stage for the next ones to enter.

Drawing Hands

dandelion

Drawing and painting hands can be one of the banes of an artist.  Urgh, she says, as she works intently to make a hand that looks like a hand.  Even drawing this very basic hand was challenging.  The fingers, in relation to one another, folded over the palm.  The palm, the wrist, the forearm.  Not so easy as it might appear in this photo.

I find it interesting that an artist, who draws portraits or any aspect of the human figure, does a study of a particular feature if she wants to improve her craft.  She could spend years, literally, and not have mastered the hand, the eye, the ear!  An artist can decide to render certain features of the face or aspects of the body in an abstract way.  And that’s acceptable too if it fits with the mood of a piece.

Or hands can disappear beneath a fold of fabric, into a pocket, overhead into the ethers or off the edge of the substrate, imagined.  If need be, you can resort to collaging them in if you can make it work.

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Really, though, an artist wants to gain some mastery of hands and that comes with making studies, giving them attention.  At this time, that’s not what I want to give my attention to.

At any given time, we are called, as artists, to sort of follow our bliss or in these precarious times, to sense what the need is.  Artists, poets, writers, musicians have a calling and that seems to be to tend to the times in which they live.  Sometimes, they hold the conscience and the consciousness for their particular generation(s).  In fact, we all do…but artists have a way of tapping into that which begs to be seen and heard.

 

What are you feeling?

Things are scrambled.  There is disorientation.  My brother in San Francisco doesn’t drive.  He relies on buses.  The buses are running but it’s always a risk.  Who else is going to be on the bus?  What are their personal habits of cleanliness and responsibility towards others?  He can’t get to his usual places to shop for the food he usually eats.  He is eating more canned food.  His health is suffering.  He isn’t getting the exercise he normally gets.  He lives alone, is a social being and feels cut off from his connections.  His lifestyle has been severely curtailed.  He lives minimally with a small carbon footprint.  Even with that, this is rough.

After a recent conversation with him, I felt sad.  I told him that he needed to eat healthy.  That much he could do for himself.  The stores where he usually shops are over-crowded making him less likely to shop there.  I told him he could have fresh produce delivered.  Regardless, he is down-hearted by everything that is going on right now.  Living in San Francisco, he feels the impact more than I do where I live.  Less freedom of motion.  His is one story among many…one good reason for kindness towards one another.

Expressive.1

This face came about from what I was feeling in the moment.  The words that I wrote  were:

There is so much that is going on that is challenging for many at this time.  I wouldn’t know where to begin.  An ongoing sadness and simultaneously, an awareness of the extreme beauty that surrounds us.  Concern for self and family and community, the world–the earth.  Humans haven’t lived softly on this planet.  Why have we distanced from the earth who sustains us?  There are so many questions hovering in the air.  I like to think that where there’s a question, nearby is an answer.  We have to pay attention–become conscious of the feedback that we are receiving from the earth and her other creatures.  We aren’t alone in this.  Why do we forget?

Then, yesterday, sitting in my tiny garden in the backyard, leaning into the uncertainty, a little hummingbird settled nearby, framed in a wire rectangle of the fenced enclosure.  It visited for an indeterminate time and we studied one another.  The rarity of such an experience always feels like an honoring.

This painting is a reminder to not run away from your feelings.  As they arise, do acknowledge them, embrace them, sit with them, be patient with yourself through them.  It is in this state of acceptance and bringing comfort to them that they are recognized and eased.  Have you noticed that?

In the midst of uncertainty, some things feel right with the world.  We look for those things.

Take good care.

She Has No Name

IntuitivePainting1When I began painting faces, I found it very challenging.  What I painted didn’t resemble the image I had in mind at all!  How my mind and hand translated a photo portrait onto a canvas was juvenile art.  Features–especially matching the eyes–were they the same size, at least close to the same size?  The same shape?  How much space between them? How far down on the face should they be?  Where is the nose in relation to the eyes? And the mouth?  Did I mention mixing a realistic skin tone?  And then, there is value contrast!  Yikes…the map of the face is an art that isn’t easy to master.

Several years of practice has improved my facility to draw a face with some degree of realism.  And, I can see that I need years more of practice before I feel accomplished in this area.  If ever.

And, so, I allow the whimsy that has been part of my artist’s signature.

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I do like the background in this painting.  The soft colors and images that sort of arise from the mist.  I also think about painting over the whole thing and discovering something else.  Remembering that it’s all part of the learning process, I have compassion for my newly formed artist self.  Compassion versus criticism.  Practice versus procrastination.  

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Remember the old adage “Patience is a virtue.”  It really is.  Making art–it can’t be rushed.  It can be…but the depth of what an artist gets from the creative process won’t be reached unless she is patient enough to be fully present with the work in process and with herself (himself).  Any work of art is always an inquiry.  With that, an answer won’t be forced but rather surfaces.

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These days, things are very serious.  I feel it in my body.  It’s easy to forget my body.  To relegate it to last place even though I have more time to tend it.  Yesterday, I came upon this little video by Elizabeth Gilbert.  What I love about it is that there are no words…

And now for something completely different,

LET’S DANCE!

https://www.facebook.com/GilbertLiz/videos/235717154471860/