The Koala

koala61

What inspires you to paint an animal?  Especially one who isn’t native to your place on the planet?  Where does that inspiration come from?

Regarding this painting, the image of the Koala arose from creating a background first.  This painting was definitely intuitive.  I believe that when we are tuned in, things show themselves to us or want to be seen by us.  That is what I would say about this Koala Bear.  He literally showed himself to me, arising from the background and wanting to be seen and painted.

As an artist, it is my responsibility to respond to what is asked of me.  Yes, in this case, to paint a Koala Bear.  In one sense then, this little koala bear image floating out in the larger world beyond my art studio becomes an ambassador for all Koala Bears.  Whoever happens upon this painting is reminded that we share the planet with many other amazing creatures.

If I were to paint this again, with what I’ve learned since, I’d define the image of the Koala Bear by employing light and dark values.  This would give emphasis where it is needed.  I’d also probably paint over some of the background.

Regardless, I like imagining him in his Australian forest, likely in a Gum Tree.  As seems to be the case with many of our planet’s precious animals, the Koala Bear is considered to be vulnerable to extinction.  This is supposed to be one step above endangered.  Yikes!  The threats to their survival comes from habitat destruction, bushfires, dog attacks and accidents on the road.

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I wonder how many animals have to go extinct in our lifetime before we change our ways of harvesting and using resources.  When do we begin to value, through our actions, all of our relations and the earth herself?

Unintentional Creativity

In a way, I think of Intentional Creativity as a more logical (or masculine) approach to directing your creativity.  The artist affects the process by choosing an intention.  The intention propels the creative expression in a mindful way “to support growth and healing.”  In other words, the artist “creates around their intention.”

Of equal value is unintentional creativity which I consider a “feminine” or intuitive approach to initiating making art.  Making random marks on a fresh canvas, dripping or swiping colors over the canvas, paint doodling, intuitively choosing colors, layering, etc. could seem to be “going nowhere.”  However, what I’ve found is that this is an opportunity for the deeper psyche to express itself.  As I get to a certain stage in this free play process, I might begin to see shapes, images rising to the surface of my awareness.  Some of them I bring forth, others retreat into the background.  Some I paint or collage over, others I refine.

This is my preference for now.  That said, I notice that once I paint the “I don’t know where this is going random marks,” I get to the place of crafting a painting.  Then my marks become more intentional as I bring a piece into its final form.  I can’t say that I have chosen a specific intention for the painting even at this point.  I’m allowing the piece to show and tell me what wants to be revealed.

Truly, both styles of painting overlap and weave through any process.  However, when I try to “force” my painting to go a certain way, I find that I can be blocked.  Any piece has a sort of self-determination.

I painted the piece below to Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker.  For me, painting this felt like a wild ride that intensified as I went.  Painting is an energetic process.  There is the possibility of transformation both of the canvas and one’s own emotional state.

Tchaikovsky.2019

What if…

What if I’d been born a woman in a time and place where women weren’t allowed to read and write–illiterate.  It wasn’t that long ago, especially in the context of the whole of human literacy, that women were “granted the right” to get an education.  If you are interested, you can google the timeline of women’s education across the globe.  That it be debatable whether or not a woman should be allowed to get an education is mind-boggling for those of us who, in many ways, take education for women for granted.

I wonder if parts of myself would be permanently closed off, untapped because I couldn’t make this scratching on paper with a pen?  When I look back and recall how, at 27-years old, I started to write to save my life, I honestly couldn’t have had a better means to express what was going on inside of me and outside of me.  Or so it seemed.  Self-expression takes many forms.  I know that I’d have found another way.  However, writing has been so accessible, cathartic and freeing.  It has worked well for me in addition to other creative ventures.

Here’s another way to look at women and the advent of the alphabet.  According to author, Leonard Shlain in his book, The Alphabet Versus the Goddess, the alphabet has usurped women’s innate powers.  It has thrust women from an intuitive universe of imagery and symbolism into the masculine logic thereby making these feminine attributes less accessible, diminished and even superstitious.   Within myself, I can feel a deep desire and an inner-directed course towards reclaiming and re-valuing these women’s ways of knowing.  I make art and write poetry to foster the intuitive side of me.

In China, women developed their own secret language, NuShu, to communicate with one another across the miles.  Daughters sold off into marriage were taken distances away from their mothers and sisters.  They were strangers in their new village and sometimes not welcomed.  Many of them would never see their families of origin again.  They wrote their secret language on the folds of fans that were delivered to and from their families.

“The script [NuShu] was often used in embroidery, calligraphy and handicrafts created by women.  It is found written on paper (including letters, written poetry and on objects such as fans) and embroidered on fabric (including on quilts, aprons, scarves, handkerchiefs). Objects were often buried with women or were burned.”
by Jone Johnson Lewis
from NuShu, a Woman-Only Language of China

Stamping out women’s illiteracy across the globe isn’t complete.  Belinda Jack’s well-researched essay, The Right to Read:  Belinda Jack on the History of Women’s Literacy, concludes:

“For many women readers today it’s easy to think that the history of women’s reading as a distinct story has come to an end. But in some parts of the world women continue to risk their lives reading material which those in authority have forbidden.”

I’m grateful that I can read and write.  That said, the re-valuing of a woman’s deeper intuitive ways of being, seeing and knowing is likely the antidote to a world that is steeped in a masculine logic gone awry.

What do you think?

 

 

Tending a Blog

When I first began writing this blog nearly two years ago, I had a direction in mind.  It was to write and share inspirational vignettes that would prompt you, the reader, to write.  Then, for about three months, I blogged about the final years of my parents lives.  Presently, I am allowing the blog to decide which direction it wants to go in next.  At this time, I don’t want to assign a theme.  Rather, I want to let the blog morph, to be a bit eclectic and finally to choose its own direction.  When I paint intuitively, that is precisely how a piece evolves and settles on what it is going to be.  So I guess this is an experiment of sorts.

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Having not blogged for a couple of months has provided a much needed immersion into grieving.  I have followed the breadcrumbs of grief to witness how I grieve.  I have noted how I sit with irrevocable change.  I participated in a two-month long grief group.  I’ve felt the safe womb space that we were held in apart from the rest of the world.  I noticed how we bonded into the commonness of the experience of losing a loved one(s).  I experienced a feeling of family with relative strangers.  At the end of each session, we hesitated  to leave the little room where we met.  This was without a doubt a safe place for each one of us to feel what we were feeling without masking it for the benefit of others.  Sacred space and time apart.

Years ago, I remember being in the workplace.  A fellow worker lost her husband suddenly.  She was given three days off of work to make arrangements and to grieve this profound loss.  I remember thinking how ridiculous it was to expect that she return to work without having that necessary time to grieve and comprehend the changes to her world.  I considered that she was initially in shock.  It takes awhile to  sink into the recognition that things would never be as they once were.  That he wouldn’t be coming home after work.  That they wouldn’t discuss the education and challenges of rearing their four children or their future plans…all evaporated in a moment.  I remember how she seemed to put on a mask for the benefit of her co-workers–was it heroic or something that she felt forced into–to pretend that she wasn’t a crumbling mess inside?

How do we educate ourselves and others on the significance of allowing grief into our lives?  In some cultures, the mourner wears black for a year.  When people in the community see this person, they understand, “Ah, he/she is in mourning.”  They do not expect you to “Get over it” or “Put on a happy face.”  Grief is recognized and honored as a tender time.  In grief, there is a certain vulnerability that the mourner experiences.  Sometimes you might want to hide away; other times you crave company.  Often, you need to talk about the loved one or your feelings of loss.  But only if you feel safe enough to do so.

That said, I can see how grief is a unique experience for any individual.  How do you tend your losses?  How do you grieve?

Your comments are welcome.

A Woman’s Best Friend?

bestfriend

One day a few weeks ago,  I had a plan to paint a forest fairy.  What showed up on the canvas was the eye and snout of a dog!  I don’t paint dogs typically.  I was going to force it into a forest fairy!

Then I went out in the world and had three encounters of the strangest kind.

The first:
What do you do for recreation on a rainy day?  A friend and I went to the local museum to see two exhibits:  1) Mount Shasta: Mystery and Magic–Elevating the Human Spirit and 2) Tattooed and Tenacious: Inked Women In California’s History.  By the way, I highly recommend both exhibits.
As we stepped out into the parking lot, walking towards our vehicles, a young girl ran up to us.  Her message was urgent.
“Would you mind if our dog said hello to you?  He really wants to say hello.  It would make him so happy.”
Who could refuse?

The second:
Later on, the same rainy day, an acquaintance–one who seldom frequents the local cafe– stopped in to get a hot chocolate.
He explained, “I was taking my dog for a walk and it started raining.  He doesn’t like walking in the rain.”
I asked “What kind of dog?”
He answered “Everything. Would you like to meet him?”
Who could refuse?

I took both of these instances as a sign that I was to paint this dog.  I came home and started to bring him forward.  Then I got this text from my daughter.

The third:
“Just saw Isle of Dogs, Of course I liked it.”
I hadn’t heard of Isle of Dogs.  (I’ve seen it since and thought it was a work of artistic genius.)

As if I needed more confirmation.  I texted my daughter an image of the work in process.
She said:  “She/he is so cute.  Looks like a lil wolf dog and looks like a dog from the movie.”

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All of this to say, when the universe sends synchronicities, listen and follow them.  Paint the dog!

Creative Prompt:
Be alert to those messages, especially the ones that come in bunches.  Follow the intuitive hit, the creative impulse, the prompts that present themselves over the course of your day.