It’s a windy, rainy Sunday morning, the ground is covered in orange, sky grey. I am missing my studio, it’s been two weeks since I’ve worked in there. I’ve been so busy with my show and book, and tired, I haven’t had a chance and it’s starting to catch up on me. I’ve snuck down to my room to write; Jack and Fiona are upstairs watching a show and Alan just got up to have his own breakfast. They will be coming to look for me soon. I’m excited to start my new project, my new series of paintings, drawings, and writings for my next book. I have some interesting ideas now that I’ve had some experience in the book publishing/ book creating world. I want to work this time with a conversation between the stories/writings/essays and the artwork. A back and forth, in the same way when I started having a conversation between the two opposite pages in my notebooks. A written word/ visual play, like the way children’s books are put together. I also was thinking about writing some children’s books. There are stories not being told, the children’s books seem to rehash the same messages repeatedly. I have lots of ideas, but now I have no seed money! I’ve been obsessively wondering how many books sold over the weekend? And I am HOPING I sell a few paintings at my show! I need to make some cash for my next set of projects! I think I am going to take Billy on an adventure walk now in the storm, see what’s happening out there, get all wet and muddy and come home to take a hot shower!
To interact, that is one of the reasons I write and make art. To communicate. To express myself. The internet helps me connect with the world. People make fun of social media and call it dumb, but it allows me to share my thoughts, my paintings, myself, with the world. To find shared experiences. What would I be with out the books I’ve read, the people I’ve known, I’ve always wanted that. I’ve always searched for that connectedness. I listened to a woman on the news last night, talking about net neutrality, which is protecting the rights of peoples right to information. Keeping the internet equal for all, allowing everyone equal access no matter where they live and how much money they have. Free internet at the library. I just finished publishing my new book, “Nap Time Paintings, Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist”. I am so happy with the cover, it is beautiful. I am sure it will read beautifully now, after revising it so many times. And my art works shines in the book. I decided to really give my book its own identity, apart from my art career, I started a new Facebook page for my book and had to write about why people should click on my new link. I talked about what I’m writing, had to express why people should read what I’m writing. I though about why I like reading. I like hearing other people stories and experiences. I like being inspired to paint and to be a better mom and human being. I like feeling connected to people in that way. It makes me feel things I wouldn’t normally feel. It gives me hope. I love reading. I love looking at Art. By having my book accessible in places where there are no galleries or museums, or where cost prohibits people to go visit places with fine art, an art book, my book can allow more people to view abstract, contemporary, strong, interesting art. At the Fourth Wall Gallery we talk about the Democracy of Fine Art all the time. Fine Art should be accessible to more people. It shouldn’t all be outrageously priced. I guess the internet for me, sharing my work on line and in galleries, writing my blog, and self-publishing my book is about democracy. Net- Neutrality is a MUST! The book feels different than the painting. I started wondering the other day if writing about what I write about is self-indulgent? “Indulging one’s own desires, passions, whims., especially without restraint.” Dictionary.com. I am indulging in my desire to paint and write, it’s my passion, my whole art practice is about restraint vs. indulgence.
Myanmar Refugees, earthquake and hurricane victims stain my paper. Ghosts. Shadows illuminated by the sparkly Autumn light. The world is a cruel place. Studio, Children; sanctuaries; escapes into creativity. In the morning, while we are waiting for the bus, Fiona hands me a little cream-colored kitty cat. She has all her little stuffed animals. “let’s go to grandpas” she says. “O.K.” I say. We walk the teddies as we crawl across the driveway. Fiona’s tights get dried leaves all over them. Jacks upstairs, I get this moment alone with Fiona in our magical space. She sees her shadow, makes it grow and shrink. She gets on the bus for school, I wave good bye.
In my studio Ghosts grow. Marks, drips and drops. My time goes by way too fast. Studio days, gone for the week. Today I sat on the deck taking a break from the studio. I remember sitting in the same place, or in the back yard. Listening to Blue Jays and crows, just like today. Having the luxury of time, so much time for the studio. I could keep working non-stop. Now time is precious, both time in the studio and time with my family. It’s good to have restraints, balance. Responsibility.
Daisy Flowers. I love when Jack says those words. We went to hunt for wildflowers yesterday. Up a hill off Lucas Valley. Yellows covered the hillside like I’ve never seen before. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Wind blowing. “I’m cold” says Fiona. I dressed her in pants in the morning before school; she wanted to wear a little pair of white shorts with a pink bow we pulled out of the summer drawer last night for pajamas. “We’re going hiking, I don’t think you should, keep your pants on. “I say. But it’s too late, she already has her pants half off, trying to get them over her thick Keen sandals. “Let me help you” I say. On the hill, I hand her Jacks green and yellow thick plaid shirt from out of my backpack. She has me button it to the top; it’s so hip pared with her flower skorts, navy blue keens, beaded necklace, (she made herself) and short haircut. Which I often have to explain to the little boys at the park that she is a girl and girls have short haircuts too, in fact all the best super hero girls have short hair! Then I explain “What’s in her ears?” when they ask that next. “Her hearing aids” I say. I should add a fantastic story about them being part of her super hero status. I sit on the hillside watching the children, Jack, Fiona, and Valentina have the best time of their life. There is a small, trickling stream that turned into the softest, throwable, mud as the kids play in it. Jack and Fiona both say they want to go home and take a shower more than once, but immediately run back in the mud and stomp and laugh. “I love mud” Jack says. I take it all in. A dream come true. Heaven. Today I am able to work in my studio and go to yoga, where I find my pelvic floor. It is the strangest thing: I studied all about the pelvic floor, hip, internal organs, spine connection last night, then today I go to Yoga and the whole class is about what I had studied the night before. This made my yoga workout today extremely intense focusing on breath and proper alignment and which muscles to engage (instead of being on auto pilot). It was pure serendipity! Spring is bringing me a bounty of inspiration and intuition. My alone time is coming to an end now though. I certainly haven’t gotten enough of it lately. But I appreciate all the time I do get to be alone creating! Namaste.
Fan on, back and fourth, made it work. Can’t stop. Problem. When begin working on series, project for new show get obsessed. Forced myself to eat two hard boiled eggs, drink one red stripe and drink two cups of water. This is what happens. I have a lot to sell for $150. And I have my series almost complete. It includes various sizes on canvas, paper, and board. A variety of prices, a variety of materials. As well as collabs between me and Carl and Carls selection of Solo New Works. It should make for quite a show. For Sure. I just want to keep on working but I only have an hour and a half. Panic. I need to walk the dog, take a shower, and get it together enough to take the babies to the grocery store and make dinner. Today the worlds collide. How can I rectify this? I don’t know, but I know I need to leave soon to take Billy for a walk. I made good progress in my studio today. At least there’s that. I was glad to get to this week, I actually have extra help this week, perfect timing for show prep. It does feel good, but I wish I had a little more time. That’s the thing, when you have kids. I can’t just disappear for fourty eight hours working non-stop in my studio. I have to leave, not knowing when I will be able to work again. Jack seemed like he wasn’t feeling well this morning. What if he gets sick and needs round the clock Mommy? Or the babysitter gets sick? Or her kids? So many things to get in the way of my studio time. I take a deep breath. This is the way it is. Must accept. Input. Acceptance. Flow with it. Sympatico.
FLIES in the Kitchen, sweet, sticky, squares of waffle on the floor. Smeared yogurt, cheerios, some hard and shrunken from being soaked with milk, some bright and crispy just like they day I opened the box. Babies finally sleeping at same time for afternoon nap. It’s been a heel of a week. Jack no nap Tuesday, Fiona no nap Wednesday, Jack no nap Thursday, Fiona no nap Friday. All three of us woke up at 7:00 AM each day and were completely wrecked by 7:00 at night. I decided early on to just go with it. I could feel the tide changing a few weeks ago. The vocabulary, the upper body strength, the understanding of the Easter Bunny. This was a big one this week. I admit I went head strong into Spring, the full week of a diet consisting of vegetables and chocolate. Ohhhing and ahhhing at every lamb I saw in the pastures I drove by and every stuffed bunny on the shelf in the store. I even saw a real bunny eating green grass last Saturday in Bodega bay. I tried to dye Easter Eggs with the babies and Lindsay yesterday, but I bought the wrong color eggs and Jack and Fiona just wanted to throw the eggs and watch them crack. Today we went to the local parks annual Easter Egg hunt. Jack and Fiona were so excited. I really talked it up. We walked down the hill, Jack and Fiona carrying buckets, Billy barking from the deck, our neighbors walking down at the same time. One of them told me I needed to be more careful while walking around the sharp curve on our road. I guess one day she nearly hit us. I asked her, “Was it the day It was raining?” I told her there was a storm that day and Jack was scared of the wind and everything was all crazy. And sorry. The Easter Egg Hunt at the park was interesting, but overwhelming and the Easter Bunny looked really scary and some of the little kids started crying. Anyhow It’s probably time to clean up this mess. Get these flies outta the house.