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A Good Day

Not 100% today, but not nearly as bad as yesterday. I heard quiet whispering from the couch, but I had too much to do to answer the call. That and my inner Martha Stewart was talking over it. Every now and then I feel really inspired to cook. I have mentioned before that I love cooking, and that I’m quite good at it, but once in a while I have the urge to really create in the kitchen. Tonight I made Deviled Crab Cakes with a mango lime butter mayo, on freshly baked brioche, served with a small salad. For dessert Goat Cheese Cheesecakes with Rosemary, with a ginger snap crust, served with blackberry sauce and mango purée. I got the recipe for the cheesecake from a Food and Wine email, created by chef Sandi Reinlie. It is meant to be served with a lavender honey, but I make a terrific blackberry sauce that I thought would pair well with the cheesecake and I was right. Delicious. And since I was in such a culinary state of mind I chose an appropriate subject for tonight. I have a handful of photographs that I took at our local farmer’s market. I chose a photo of some beets, and painted them in watercolor. (I think I hear inner Martha telling me to alphabetize my spices, but I’ve decided to ignore her.) A day like today makes me feel terrific. I love feeling as though I’ve accomplished something. A very satisfying, creative day. IMG_1549

Deviled Crab Cake on BriocheIMG_1556

Goat Cheese cheesecake with Blackberry sauce and Mango puree IMG_1555Watercolor on paper

Answering The Call…Of My Couch

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I hate to admit it, but today is one of those days when any project is an issue. Not enough sleep, feeling a little under the weather, I just can’t seem to find any inspiration. I looked through some old photographs in my computer and actually picked a few, but the truth is I’m just not up to it tonight. I promised art every day for a year, and as I have said in the past, there are days I just didn’t count on. Today is definitely one of them. I pushed through it last night when I wasn’t feeling well, but tonight I think I’ll be raising the white flag. The only thing that I’m finding inspirational at the moment is putting my head down. However, I have been raised on the ultimate force of power in the universe, otherwise known as Catholic guilt. When I make a promise, I keep it. I realize that there is no WordPress hotline to the Vatican that might report my missed deadline, but due to masterful parental manipulation, guilt rules my life. I wouldn’t dream of not following through when I say I’ll do something. I really was going to try, but in the not so far distance I hear my couch calling my name. Of course all of the above being said, I can’t answer the call of the couch until I post something. A simple watercolor. I hope to be back in fighting form tomorrow.Image

Late Grade

Last night I gave myself an unofficial report card on my project so far. Guess what I forgot? Come on, we all know what it is…Perspective of course. Notice how I managed to forget that little issue? I think its post traumatic stress disorder caused by geometry. I was straightening out all the supplies that are laying about in my family room and found not one but two books on the subject. One was a book I own and have owned for years. The other was the library book I wrote about last week.  Have I read them thoroughly? No I haven’t. I did crack open the library book and make a few rough sketches that I had posted last week. I also wrote last week about my love of reading. So that might make one wonder why I haven’t read these books on perspective. I have had a lifelong issue with reading. Back in the third grade I was pulled from reading class by the nuns to help the first graders with reading. My reading skills were always above my grade. I can knock off a novel in an afternoon. However, if the reading material happens to be in the form of an instruction manual, or a text-book on a subject that I am not interested in, I can read a page again and again, and nothing, not a thing. No comprehension what so ever. I hate to admit this but I’m about as stubborn as they come. I mean no disrespect as I say this, but to quote my Dad, “That one could argue Jesus Christ off the cross”. If I don’t want to do something it just doesn’t happen. I really believe that if I’m not interested enough in the subject my brain closes its eyes and refuses to look. There can be no other explanation. So my grade on the offending perspective…C- I think that’s fair, I have seen some improvement, but obviously if I actually tried to work on it I could do better. I’d like to promise I’d do so, but I really, really hate how mathematical it is. Like everything else I do and have done with art, I will continue to work on it in my own way.

And in taking a step in the right direction, I started my project early today. I’m really happy with my finished piece. Sometimes the unexpected comes into your life, and sometimes it brings incredible people with it. Alexis, a beautiful young lady and the subject of my painting tonight. I’m not actually sure who took the photograph of her, I saw it on her Facebook page and thought she looked beautiful. I also loved the abstract way the light had blurred the line of her pants, and the unusual color it cast on both Lexy and her surroundings. I’d like to think I captured her essence and the reflected color. It is the most ambitious watercolor I have done to date.IMG_1482

Heading Into Midterms

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At the birth of this project the object was to use up the supplies I have on hand in my studio. The project evolved into much more than that, but the original purpose is still a challenge to be met. It’s been a while since I’ve written about my artistic self-doubt, and feelings of inadequacy due to my lack of artistic schooling. I bring it up again because I am nearing the halfway point in the promise of a year of art. I am roughly two weeks away, and decided to step back a little and check my progress. I have produced a tremendous amount of art since April when this all began. Not all have been pieces that I love or even like. There are some that I am immensely proud of. It is without question the most productive I have ever been artistically. The state of my studio? It pretty much looks the same. I have gone through quite a bit of watercolor paper, several canvases, some drawing paper, but for the most part it looks the same. Which is strange considering that a great deal of my materials have made their way down to our dining room, our family room, our guest room, the kitchen and even the garden. In terms of cleaning out my artistic refrigerator, I am a total failure. I might also mention here that I tend to be a bit untidy as an artist (OK, in other areas as well, particularly when creating in the kitchen), I’m working on it. However, the clutter in my brain is beginning to straighten itself out. Not that I don’t still have total meltdowns and think my work is crap. Years of self-doubt aren’t that easy to shake off. It is just that I am feeling more fearless in my art. I don’t give up when I begin to feel “not good enough” trying to sneak back into my brain. I do have to admit that there are a few recently orphaned canvases that need to be addressed. Oil is still my big hangup. Patience is really in need of attention.I have of course recently professed my new-found love of pen and ink. My watercolor skills are much better than I realized. So as I near that halfway mark I think I’m doing OK. I give myself high marks for growth in artistic confidence, but I am failing in making myself and art a priority. I am still cranking this work out after dinner. That’s right, ninety percent of the work that I have produced and posted on this blog have taken place between the hours of seven and ten at night, including writing. I guess I have to stop and ask myself what the problem is. What is the roadblock in my way? I don’t know. I do know that I can see what I am capable of in three hours, imagine what I could do if I actually gave myself time.

I decided to head up to the studio and dig out something different. Pastels. Which I will now admit I am discovering are not my favorite medium. The point is to use up the supplies. I’m trying! This piece is based on a photo from La Jolla Cove here in Southern California.9 24

Living A Better Life

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While I was at my Dad’s house I looked through his old photo albums. I ended up bringing quite a few photos back with me to repair. I’ve gotten pretty good with Photo-shop, particularly on the old damaged pics. Some were photos of my grandparents when they were young. Those pictures got me thinking.  I wondered if my grandparents thought about their lives, if they were satisfied, or if they ever gave it any thought at all. We live in a very me, me, me, society. Some of that I believe is good. I think if we are allowed and encouraged to grow as people it benefits us in a multitude of ways.  At the same time, in all of this self focus, do we lose sight to those around us? Is it possible to satisfy your own needs without taking into consideration the needs of others? Yes and no. One of the books I really enjoy, and have reread many times is Mitch Albom’s “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”. In essence the book speaks to how each moment in our lives we touch others in ways we don’t even realize. I think about that a lot. I’ve mentioned before that I like to think about being the “nice lady”  someone remembers from their childhood. Just think of the difference we could all make if we thought about that every day. A smile, a compliment, an open door for a stranger, simple acts that cause a ripple effect. It is so easy to change the day of another person. When I think back on my life I can remember moments that make me smile with the memory of something I did that I know made a positive difference in the life of someone I barely knew. Unfortunately I can also look back and remember when I wasn’t my best. These days I’m working on always keeping what is really important in life at the top of my list. I believe as I grow (yes, even at my age…), in particular through this project, as I am more content, as I am happier, I want others to feel the same. Things that bothered me in the past seem silly now. Anger has changed for me as well. I am angry about things that I see happening in the world that I cannot change, but I am finding it difficult to be angry with those I love most. Learning to let go of nonsense makes for a better life. Focusing on who and what we love can change all of us. Thinking about those single moments with the people you love, as well as those you will never know but have a split second with, can change a life, and you won’t even realize you did it. I guarantee that in that instant you can make the world a better place.

In amongst the photos at my Dad’s was a picture of my cousin Lorna’s son Oisin. As the world around me moves at lightening speed, Oisin is quite a bit older than when this photo was taken, but I loved it. Like the painting from last night it called to me. I experimented a bit with mixed media for tonight. Watercolor, pencil, and pen.IMG_1474

Impatient

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Not my best day artistically. I think I’m still running on empty from our trip. I scraped the paint off of a canvas not once but twice today. Things were just not working for me. To be honest I gave a moments thought to taking my scraped off canvas and turning it into an abstract. Unfortunately and fortunately for me I just can’t be a sellout when it comes to my work. The one and only abstract piece I’ve posted with this blog was an inspired piece, actually the only abstract piece I’ve ever created. That one was inspired by a piece of burnt copper, no matter how long and hard I looked at that scraped canvas today it gave me nothing. I finally walked away from it. I looked through my studio and found one of my old orphaned paintings. It was flat and lifeless. I threw it on the easel and began to work with the paint muck I had created with my scrapings. It had turned a very strange sort of lavender. I just went with it, I didn’t want to waste the paint. As always I was much too impatient, the “muck” began to get muddier. I had to pull myself back, wipe off my brushes and begin again. I found what worked for me eventually was to go with a more impressionistic stroke,  in the end I feel like the painting has too much paint, but on the positive side it isn’t flat! And I didn’t give up. I have to admit that today was the first time in a while that “I’m not good enough” snuck back into my brain. It all comes down to oils and my lack of patience. I keep making the same mistakes and expecting different results. I’m going to let the scraped canvas cure and attempt something with what remained on the canvas. I hope for better results the second time around.9 17I may have had a bad artistic mojo day, but I did empty the photos from my phone. In previous blogs I have mentioned both Prairie Crossings and McDonald Woods, both north of Chicago near my Dad’s house. We had the opportunity to grab a few early morning walks before my Dad was awake last week. The McDonald Wood photos are in Dan’s  phone and I’ll have to grab them tomorrow, but for tonight a few from Prairie Crossing.IMG_1371 IMG_1376IMG_1355A little slice of heaven on the prairie.

Turbulent Times

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Home at last. We flew out of Milwaukee this morning to Phoenix, and then on to San Diego. A very long week away. I love seeing my family , but I missed my life at home. I had grand plans to come home and work. I figured that since we got in at 12:20 I’d have all the time in the world to work this afternoon. We left rainy Milwaukee and ended up in beautiful, sunny San Diego. There was no other choice than to head out to one of the cafes in Little Italy, sit outside with our friend Lori, who had been kind enough to pick us up, and share a meal and a bottle of wine. We had a lovely time, talked to our waitress Tatiana, a charming girl from Italy, who happened to be working her last table before leaving for her vacation in Honduras. Between the Xanax for flying earlier in the day, and two glasses of wine, I was too tired to produce anything by the time I got home. Fortunately I had painted on the plane, unfortunately I was painting during turbulence. Watercolors and turbulence don’t always mix. Actually painting and flying don’t necessarily belong together. I used the cap off my water bottle for my water cup, and tried to balance it, my watercolors and paper all on that little tray, and then turbulence. Really? But I persevered and created a little piece that I’ll post tonight. I’m tired from my day of travel, and writing a very short blog tonight.

Sunflowers and lemons in watercolor.photo

 

One More For The Road

Headed home tomorrow and not a moment too soon. As I felt the tug of war in my heart this week between Chicago and Temecula, I was also feeling something else…unwell. I believe the scales are tipping in favor of Temecula, or Southern California in general. As much as I love Chicago, it doesn’t always love me. I had so many respiratory infections when I lived here that I could just call my doc, tell him it was that time of year again, and he would prescribe medicine via the phone. We arrived a week ago today, by Monday I wasn’t feeling great, by Thursday I thought I had dodged a bullet, but today I feel like I’m one day away from a respiratory infection once again. I actually left Chicago with Bronchitis, the first person I met when I moved to Temecula was my pharmacist, Darryl. We don’t see each other as often as we used to, and although he is a lovely person, I wouldn’t be upset if I didn’t have to see him for a while. So tonight I’ll be making it short.

While I was visiting my Dad I had the opportunity of going through old photo albums. I love old family photos. I’ve used some of them in art work, and I have a very special project in mind for my Dad using some photos I took this time. I’ve actually had a great deal of luck photographing the photos. I don’t need the originals. My phone takes great pics and I spent a day taking photos of some of the pictures I wanted. When I was thinking about what I might want to paint today, I glanced through all the photos on my phone for inspiration. I came across a photo of my cousin Gavin. It is a photo taken in Ireland, where he lives, and it is when he was a child. I loved the expression on his face in the picture. Watercolor once again.image

Mysterious Inspiration

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Sometimes as an artist, for inexplicable reasons I see something that appeals to me, a cloud (don’t worry, not that again), a landscape, a face, a scene, that calls to me. Something that leaves me with the overwhelming urge to paint. There are times when even I am puzzled at the what and whys of my choices. The painting I did today falls under the mysterious inspiration category. I wrote a couple of days ago about being back in Chicago, in the heart of the city. The diversity of the people and places. As we sat at a red light I glanced out the window and saw a man sitting waiting for the bus. It was one of those moments that I felt the urge to capture. Maybe it’s the body position, or the way the light and shadow bounce off the figure. Or it could just be human curiosity. I’ve mentioned in a previous blog my sister, Colleen. I’ve also written about how funny she is. My Mom never learned how to drive. As kids we walked, rode in cabs, or most of the time, we took the bus. As we would sit on the bus, Colleen would look around the bus and choose someone to talk about. She would say things like, “See that lady, she had a fight with her husband this morning, and now she has to take the bus.” Or it might be, “That guy doesn’t like his family, he moved out of their house.” Or possibly, “That lady dyes her hair.” My poor Mother would be diving on her to try to get her to stop talking, sometimes really loud. I think what it inspired in me was a curiosity about who those people really were, and where they were going. I love Hopper’s Nighthawks, and I think it inspires that curiosity as well. I look at that painting and wonder about the patrons of that diner, who they were, and why they seem so lonely. I’ve also mentioned that I am a solitary figure myself, and maybe that’s the draw. My subject was the man at the bus stop, sitting in the rain with an empty shopping cart. I wondered about who he is, and where he was going, and what would eventually be in that cart. And as always, when I see someone who is alone, I worry for them and hope that it is only a temporary state.

Watercolor of a solitary man.image

Torn Between Two Loves

I was finally able to grab that elusive moment to paint this evening. We have spent most of this week holed up in my Dad’s house. Today we ventured into our old neighborhood after dropping my Dad off with his friends, and I came away inspired. I wrote the other night about Temecula, and missing home.  So here’s where I change my mind. I grew up in the heart of the city, and there is something about being in the thick of it once again that makes me feel alive. Chicago is such a mixed bag of nationalities, we were driving down Lawrence Avenue today past the Greek bakery across from the Vietnamese bakery, having just dropped my Dad off at the Irish Heritage Center, at every bus stop there are people of obvious racial or national diversity. I absolutely love that. We drove by a home that I owned at one time, it’s for sale, and I’d buy it back tomorrow. The neighborhood has only gotten better since I left. We drove down residential streets where wild flower gardens were lush with overgrowth, no home owners association to tell the home owner that their aesthetic doesn’t “fit in”. Streets so narrow that one car has to pull over to let the other pass, and the sound of the El train rumbling from the next block. I love being in the rush of people, catching snippets of passing conversations, feeling part of the community. I have to admit it, I’m really torn between Temecula and Chicago, and then there is Paris….life is just too short, and costs too much! The area in Chicago that we were in today is a neighborhood named Lincoln Square. It is a very old neighborhood, at one time primarily German. There is still very European feel to the neighborhood, one of the really fantastic old German restaurants, and Merz Apothecary, which has been in business since 1875, still one of my favorite places. With all of that said, tonight a watercolor inspired by my old neighborhood. A European street scene.image