a work in progress

Isn’t that beautiful?

See the little hole?

That’s where the rock hit. It was flung by one of my godson’s friends.

He burst into tears and apologized a million times. It was a total accident, but if I were meaner I could have arranged to get all my digging done this summer!

After calming the child and making a few jokes, the boys ran to play in the ravine. I listened to the crackling noises and watched the pattern develop.

It bulged a little bit near the entry hole and when I opened the sliding door the whole window did a wave-like motion. I did that a couple times before calling the kids and setting up a tarp to catch the pieces.

The boys threw small pebbles, this time on purpose, coaxing the glass to fall. A section would pop out in slow motion and crumble before hitting the ground.

I am almost done with my database. It almost karaoke time again! I hope to be back at the easel soon and to have a new painting to share soon.

Right after blogging about simplicity and beautiful solutions I discovered that the basement is flooded. It seems the danger is pretty much over, now that the fumes from the upturned gas can, lawn mower, and god knows what all have been aired out. I called a friend of mine who has told me his nightmare stories about his flooding basement back in Kentucky and he offered his pump. Within 20 minutes, I had picked up the pump, hooked it up, and was enjoying seeing the water shoot down the back of the hill. It’s still pumping away and I am eagerly waiting for the chance to get in there and see if the hot water heater can be put back to work. Okay, although the clean up is anything but elegant, there is something beautiful in this flood for me. I have it confirmed that I want that water heater brought up into the closet by the bathroom.

Happiness, 30″ x 40″
A woman came into my booth at the Eureka Springs Fall Art show looking at my paintings of the girls with big eyes. She said something to me about them looking like hybrid children and asked me something like whether I had painted them of hybrid children or if they just happened to resemble them. I said, “Huh? I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” She said “Google it, hybrid children” and something about alien abductions.Some other people came into the booth and I got distracted and when I looked back she was gone. Alien abduction?

Anyway, I took her advice and googled it and here’s the best thing I came up with:
Question:Should I baptize my alien hybrid children?  I also saw drawings of big eyed aliens  inseminating women. Is it interesting to note that when I  first began the Happiness painting (without a plan or end in mind), we all thought she was going to be an alien?
A little later that same day, a brilliant eleven year old friend of mine came into my booth and talked about life forms found around the vents deep in the oceans and how different it is from any other life forms we have known. She told me that she is surprised life has not been found on Mars and that she fully expects the exploration of Jupiter to lead to the discovery of life. That would be exciting news, but when would I think about that? I cannot imagine there being time enough in my life to marvel at and begin to unravel the mysterious and persistent life here on earth.

BTW, the girls have big eyes because they are observers.

A few weeks ago I wrote about my love of the artist collective. Well, I have now found out what one of the downfalls of the collective can be. It seems that a set of policies or guidelines is essential to handle situations like the one in which I found myself last week. I went into the gallery for a meeting with a handful of members who also showed up. Before the meeting, one of the members said she did not jury me in for paintings in any style other than the architectural pieces and that she felt that should be the only work in my booth. I agreed to remove all other work, since I had been planning to bring in some new work and remove other pieces in the interest of a more cohesive presentation. I had planned to handle this change on my next work day which was to fall just a couple weeks before my show at EurekaThyme opens. So, brief conversation with member unhappy with my booth (which by the way, I paid for) and then I am rushing to get the stuff down and into my car before the meeting and other members begin asking why, oh why? They preferred the work being taken down to what was left in the booth. Meeting begins, official business is covered and floor is opened to member issues. I present the dilemma which I am faced with and the group begins offering comments as to which of my work they like and think should be in my booth. Of course, none of them agree and I become very confused as to what is happening and I begin to cry. Yes, cry. I do that a lot. I assure everyone that I cry, I’m fine, it’s my way to deal with stress but all are clearly uncomfortable. And my stress level rises with them all trying to get in their two cents and all staring at me. The lovely folks who began this coop venture take turns trying to sum up the situation, and one follows me with a load to my car and tells me it is good the members are uncomfortable about this situation and that they should be since it needs to be addressed. The member who started this process finally makes eye contact with me, but it’s only to attack me. She rather fiercely states that as an artist I should be able to handle criticism of my work. I tell her she offered me no criticism of my work, there was no critique of any of the pieces. She does not reply. I continue to load the stuff out and cool artist guy is trying to find a solution. He suggests that I share my space with an incoming artist until I have more to bring in to the space that is like the five architectural pieces which remain. I point out that this would not make for a more united display which seems to be what would serve us all best. I made a statement to the group that most members are not present and that it is not acceptable to me that each painting be juried into my space and that if that is how they want it to be I will not be able to participate. Not to mention, none of the members present even agree as to which of my paintings are the best. The offended member offers to email the group. I offer to leave the gallery and do so. One of the organizers follows me out with an offer to return to participate in the future. I like these people and their concept a lot. I’d love to be a member of such a cooperative venture, but as long as there are no guidelines or policies in place, the group will be run by whichever member is the most agressive at the time and that will seldom be someone who has a clear agenda. It was a very interesting day and I have thought a lot about why I was crying in there. I realize that I went into that gallery with nothing but positive and warm expectations and was taken by surprise when I encountered the abrupt and confrontational attitude of this member who sought to remove my landscapes and abstract pieces. I regret not having the clarity of my little godson who said, “What? She doesn’t get to decide!” I am glad not to participate until there is a policy in place. It could be as simple as it is for other jury processed shows, jury in for painting, show paintings, period.

I’ve been thinking about how groups can function to create benefit for all members and found it interesting to attend a gathering of artists and gallery owners in my town who are working to create a directory. This meeting did provide an agenda and some reference to rules of order, but was still very informal. In that setting, once again, whoever is the most assertive takes over and that is typically the individual who has the most invested in a particular outcome. The all inclusive directory which was the vision of the individuals who gathered this group has shifted to a directory of any artist or gallery who wishes to purchase ad space. I find it disheartening that the good will and hard work of those who have the vision to create what could be a phenomonally powerful statement about the vitality of the arts in town has been taken to produce another advertising piece which will not be inclusive. On the other hand, there will be other projects which have been spurred by this activity and all of the results, scattered or not, will help promote our town as an arts destination. It is a mistake in my opinion, for a vendor to sit on a committee and to take over the handling of the meeting. And I keep wondering what happened to the bidding process. I feel grateful to Robert for those Rules of Order and want to see at least a little more attention to protocol at meetings. Those pesky little things like officers, mission statements and bylaws keep groups functioning cohesively. Informal is nice and seems to work fine for groups of four or five, but anything larger is much more easily managed with structure.

The rolls of canvas finally arrived and I had to stretch it. Each roll was 63″ wide and 9 yards long. I lay the canvas on the floor, reminded myself to measure twice, cut once, and cut the panels. I used a staple gun to attach them to the canvas. After three of the 8 foot panels were stretched, nice and tightly, my hands were hurting a lot. I took lots of little breaks, tried wearing gloves, but there was nothing to do but carry on. Robin helped me with the smaller canvasses when she got in since it looked like my fingertips were going to start bleeding from the rough texture of the canvas. All were done after midnight and I did a little dance and tried to clap, but ouch, no clapping. I woke up early today with my hands swollen to twice their normal size, unable to move my fingers and my right forearm enlarged and tight. After about an hour of massaging my arm and icing my hands a bit, I can type, but even that hurts. I need to invest in a power staple/nail gun before I take on another painting on this scale. The panels look great and I am eager to paint but my hands cannot do it today.

Well, I had a melt down at the Eureka Sunday Market a week ago Sunday when the extreme wind knocked over everything in my booth for the kajillionth time and sucked the canopy cover inside out and bent the frame. I had not been feeling well all day and was really run down and then beaten by the weather. I ran off at the mouth about how much I despise outdoor shows when talking with one of the fabulously energetic organizers and I later found out she took that to be my official withdrawal from the market. Oh well, I’ll leave it that way, besides I can use the time to work on the commission.
Saturday was a wonderful day with my godson. He went with me to look at the site for a huge commissioned painting I am working on and then to the Rogers Art Guild Show, where I took third place for Monterrico, the painting pictured below in the entry titled the air is full of gold dust. He and I also went to a store called Vintage Stock and he bought some trading cards and laughed about the grown ups he saw trading Pokemon cards. We had a nice dinner out and washed the car like it has not been done in years. I stayed up late working on preliminary ideas for the commissioned piece.

This week I have been planning the new painting. The wall is unusually shaped and is viewed from three levels. The art will be vertical and it will actually consist of an arrangement of many panels. I am trying to determine if I will use canvas or wood. This piece will be over 9′ wide and 14′ high and hanging weight is a concern, as are dimensions for transport and a very rushed completion date. Back to the graph paper! Photos for next post, I hope.

They’re waiting over there for their grammar lesson.

Happiness. Staring you in the face. Yours for the taking.
I was at an art show and a friend I hadn’t seen in a while came by and told me I looked unhappy. I said I was doing okay. He said I wasn’t smiling all the time and I told him I hadn’t been as happy but that I felt okay and that life was moving alone just fine for me. It didn’t seem to be good enough for him. I was annoyed that he could not accept my being less than chipper as okay for me. Sometimes I feel like there is a happiness mafia in this tiny town that throws a parade nearly every weekend of the summer. Then I turn on the tv and remember it is not just this town, it is our country. Take a pill and those annoying periods of unhappiness will go away. Take a pill and you’ll be able to focus. Take a pill and you’ll be able to make friends. Take a pill and you’ll have amazing long lasting erections. Jeez! Okay, I confess, I want the pill that makes you feel like you’re in a large tub on the top of a mountain at sunset, not sure what it cures, but I saw the commercial and I must have that condition, doc. Anyway, that’s a different rant of mine.

When I moved to this town from Texas, I did not like the winter and saw the fall as the decline into darkness. I listened to others talk about being able to see the lay of the land and enjoying the falling of the leaves. I did not get it. I was so happy back then, centered, smiling, eager, helpful, open, all that good stuff. I felt lucky everyday just to be me and therefore had boundless energy to share with others. I volunteered and met new people every day and had a grand old time. My problems were there but I felt they were the perfect problems for me to have and knew I would handle them gracefully. People really liked me then.

Things have changed and I have gotten a bit darker, less social. I’m feeling like I do alright. I’m after contentment at this point in my life and remembering that excitement does not equal happiness. Happiness is quieter.  It’s just winter. The leaves have fallen and I can see the skeltons more clearly now. It’s a more introspective period and a necessary part of my happiness. Summer is coming. I’m going to swim naked in the lake. I will dance in the streets, play with the kids, smile everyday and make my dreams come true. Right now, I’m just looking at it coming and figuring out how to joyfully live the next chapter with all that I learned this winter.

My favorite book about happiness is by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and if a dozen people buy it through this link to Amazon.com, I’ll get a gift certicate from them so I can buy the book. Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience (Paperback)

If you want to go to a week long group therapy type thing led by people who choose to be happy, visit option.org and schedule a session at the Option Institute. It’s a gorgeous place and a fun environment and they help a lot of people overcome debilitating beliefs. I went to a week long session about 7 years ago thanks to a scholarship from them, a good friend, and my little plastic card that deducts from my future. It was cool, I came home invigorated. The founders originally developed Son-Rise, a program based on acceptance, for working with their son when he developed autism. It is an incredible program and I heartily recommend this program to families of children with disabilities of all types. Here’s my Amazon link for Books by Barry Neil Kaufman.

This painting is big- 30″ x 40″ on a gallery wrap canvas. The painting continues around the edges and it is ready to hang. I placed my initials on one edge and it is signed, titled and dated on the back. I have had a great response to this painting and I had such an interesting time painting it that I plan to continue painting big eyed girls in their worlds.