Studio Thoughts

    Revelations can start in unexpected ways.   Occasionally they come upon me in the aisle of the supermarket when a package of something may trigger a new association, which leads to an “Aha” moment of memory, understanding or problem solving.   Sometimes in the morning, if I enter gently into wakefulness, a surge of creativity can occur in thought and in ideation and an artistic concept emerges or a painting worry is relieved.   I have experienced similar surges waking from naps in the studio, to look at work in progress and see clearly with those bleary waking eyes – “Oh that’s what I need to do:”   suddenly obvious in the half dream, half wake state.     I hate to admit it, but physical activity can push the mind into a creative and shifting point of view as well. I’m not much for athletics, but running like a hamster on a wheel, or dancing on my own, for extended periods of time, can also push me into the mindset of revelation. ...

We have not purchased a Christmas Tree yet this year.   Coordinating with kids who live out of town and are working, makes a family outing much more challenging than when I drove them around and they went where I took them.   Those days are gone.   I am delighted they have grown up and are living adult lives, that was the plan, but it does make tree choosing challenging! On our Christmas tree we hang an ornament for each member of the family.   I grew up with this tradition.   The ornaments from my childhood were lost in a fire, they cannot adorn our tree; my parents and brother are not represented on its boughs.     Our first dog and our only cat have their ornaments, though they have both died.   The new dog has one for her, and my kids each have their own angel ornaments. The “kids” are also represented as part of the larger family by two tiny knitted sweaters made by my husband’s Aunt (by marriage) Mu.   This ties them in with a...

Teetering on the Edge of Happiness May all your dreams come true; maybe not? There have been times in my life that I have come close to acquiring the jewels of the promised land, whatever that may have been at the time.   Mostly I have stepped back because I can feel the cost of the prize, to me, to my loved ones, to the quality of the life currently manifested. Why do we dream?   Why do we aspire to have more, to show more, to be more?   We have been taught it is the purpose of life, to effect change to affect people.   Does that mean we must do and be more?   Must I be a blazing fire consuming the air or a rampaging floodwater washing away the earth?   Can I be a cozy hearth fire and a silent stream and still be of value? The cost of success has always concerned me.   It took decades for someone to finally point out to me that to be financially successful in art, one must not only be good at creating, but also good at being a cele...

   In a later book in the Harry Potter series we discover that the carriages for the school are not drawn by magic alone, but rather by Thestrals, which are described as carnivorous, horse-like creatures which can only be seen by those who have witnessed death.   This subtle reference to the dramatic change that being fully aware of death brings to an individual is insightful and moving.    I grew up with a dying parent.   My birth seems to have coincided with his descent into his lengthy terminal status, lending my life, as my mother described, a perceived responsibility and association with his death.   An intriguing life partnership for a three year old; if we live with our “inner child,” mine sees Thestrals.   This was normal for me, as I believe it was for most children of the generation before mine who grew up without vaccines or antibiotics, and a childhood death rate which was high.   Both my parents survived Tuberculosis. ...

DISTRACTIONS Last Friday we had our fireplace swept, as we do every year.   We “burn” almost every night from late September to early May.   My husband likes the ambiance and we both like the smell and the warmth.   I could do without the dirt of logs and kindling, and the   constant stream of ashes, but in power outages we have been cozy and comforted and I have boiled water in my Greek coffee pot for morning coffee, which is key to blackout survival.    A favorite moment in power outage history was in 1999, Hurricane Floyd. The temperature dropped after the storm and we lit a fire.   I announced that we were having ice cream for dinner, which we and our small children ate in front of the hearth; they asked if we could have a hurricane every month.   If I had been clever I would have made a hurricane night every once in a while. Prior to the sweeping this year, we lit a fire in late August, on a ninety degree day, to burn a creosot...

I have not written for years, not at least, a post.  I have written journal pages by the hundreds and poems by the score, but "Studio Thoughts,"  no.  This is not a reflection of a lack of thinking, thinking out loud, hell, talking out loud - often to myself, but rather a hesitation to express into the atmosphere of intimate anonymity, what thoughts may be. There is a terrifying intimacy to separation, which not only allows, but encourages the sharing of that which is so often better kept to oneself ,or at the very least, thought carefully about before loosing its expression.  On more than one occasion I have ended a conversation either on the ethereal internet or in a crowded meeting, by stating something so clearly, concisely and thoroughly (I hope that's the reason) that no one else knew quite what to say.  I was only expressing a a thought, but the statement closed a conversation. I cherish the exchange of ideas and experiences.  It's why I love art, ...