Open Studio

One of the things I’ve been trying to do is look at creativity in a more global way….to try to be more aware of  the creativity that is woven into my life and of the way that feeds into more creativity.  As my awareness grows, so does my tendency to plant little seeds of creative potential as I go, and then watch as they build upon one another- sometimes in unexpected ways. The most obvious way is this:

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The first is a stack of cut plywood, waiting for sanding, and the second is same plywood, covered with paper, and waiting for the first coat of beeswax.  A lot of the time I don’t feel like doing the prep work, like this. It’s tedious, or boring. Not nearly as exciting as painting.  But if I don’t take breaks from painting to do work like this, I run out of painting supports, and it breaks my painting momentum.But it isn’t always so obvious.

Here is a table in our family room…..in all of it’s glorious, messy, chaos. Talk about creative potential! A lot goes on at this table- worlds are created, characters come into being, objects are built…..and having the space set aside for this creates the potential for that. It’s an important part of our home life.  And my creative life.  It’s viral, creativity. It’s essential. And, honestly, does it get any better than this? 

Let’s hear it for shelving!

I’ve had piles of stuff on every available surface. It’s nice to free up some space for working. And, speaking of working, that is a new piece on the left. 

A detail.  It was an early bird painting that just wasn’t up to standard.  So I painted over it and started over.  I like the way the painted embroidery looks mixed with the new embroidery.  Sometimes, when I can let go of a painting that isn’t working, great things happen.  It’s the letting go that is hard. Sometimes I try to paint around my favorite part, to try to save something, and that’s almost always an undisputed disaster. It’s better to just see the failed painting as a source of potential. Creative potential. A base for something new.

 I’ve got a lot of new work started- paintings on canvas mostly, but also preparing some panels for some new encaustics.  Back in September, I asked myself what I wanted my creative life to look like, and the answer that came was that I wanted momentum. The most important measure of success for me is not about how many paintings I’ve sold, or how many shows I’ve been in, but whether I’m living an integrated, full creative life. And whether that creativity rolls from one day to the next, carrying itself along, and me along with it.  This doesn’t just happen.  It must be cultivated. Sung to. Nurtured. So this is the deal I made with myself:  I need to get my butt into my studio every day that I can.  Sometimes I’m not home, or I’m sick, but almost every day I go into my studio.  I don’t have to paint, draw, or really be physically productive in any way- I just have to show up. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.  I can sit in my chair and stare around blankly if I want (which I have done!). I can empty the trash or just spend a few minutes looking at the work in progress.  One day I took my book out there and read.  But lots of times I go out there with no creative agenda, just to visit, and I end up staying, fiddling, rearranging something. And next thing I know, I’m squeezing some paint out, or starting something new. Just being in the space, and integrating it into my daily life gets (and keeps) things going. It keeps everything greased and flowing. And yesterday I was in there hanging shelves and looking around at all of the new work, and it occurred to me:  this looks a lot like…..momentum!

I’m off now to do my first creative act of the day- pancakes for my (not so) little one… 

Started some new nests today.

 Here is the under painting for one of them.  The very first layer, and it shows how crazy they start out. I scribble a lot in my under painting.  Then I gradually build layers and it starts coming together eventually.  One of the most challenging things is trying to build the image without losing the sense of spontaneity that is underneath it all.  Starting a painting is mostly about putting one foot in front of another, and not over thinking it.  But as the painting gets nearer completion, I really have to stay alert to each mark, each brushstroke.  Each mark becomes part of the conversation on that canvas.  There is a tension between the spontaneity and the completion.  If I am not paying enough attention, I can paint right through that point where it is done, but not too done.  Just done enough.  When that happens, I usually have to either paint over the whole thing, or part of it, and start over.  I just painted over an unsuccessful painting that was the victim of my distracted inattention. Oh, well, it’s a better painting for it now.  But how did this start? With my talking about how they begin.  And they do begin raw, don’t they?

Here is something else I’ve got going….

I worked on the cover for my new journal.  These journals help keep my momentum going and end up being little laboratories for new ideas and image making.  I collage a lot in them, and write in them.   Here are a few examples from past journals, since I don’t really have anything worth showing in this one yet….

The first is from when we lived in Massachusetts, and I was terribly homesick. The second is from shortly after we moved back, “changes”. I’ll post more as this new journal develops.  There are definitely some new ideas I’d like to work out in it.   

 This is actually what I made the most progress on today.  I know, I know, It’s not painting.  But would you believe me if I told you that it is related?  Because of course it is.  There is something about digging in the ground that gets my creativity going.  I think this sort of work creates a little mind space, so that my ideas can bubble up without strain, without too much intention.  Just flow.  So, in that way, it was a very productive day.  I cleared half of my future vegetable bed and dug in some soil conditioner.  I am only planting a few things - mainly for the pleasure of growing something- because we have a CSA starting in May that takes us through October and is truly abundant and splendid.  I will have more veggies than I know what to do with.

The studio has seen some action this week, too.

This….

and this…

and this.

 The last one here is a journal I am working on.  I use the Molskine Japanese albums, which are a little hard to find, but I love them.  The first thing I do is put several layers of color, gesso, and maybe a little random collage in there.  Sometimes I sew into them.  That is all so that I don’t have to face a white page.  It primes the page, so that ideas flow for me more easily.  These are small enough that I can carry them with me and add things as I am inspired.  Pretty great.

 Something new. 

Wing #2, mixed media and acrylic on canvas. 

 The warm weather this weekend got me out working in my yard instead of my studio, but I managed to get some work done last week. I started several new acrylic paintings, and am close to finishing a few others.  I packed and shipped some things to go to Atlanta.  I had the hardest time finding boxes for the artwork.  These paintings are not even that big - 24″x24″ - and yet, I couldn’t find anything big enough.  I looked into buying online, but the box companies want you to buy a lot of boxes.  You can’t buy just a few.  Minimum 25.  Ack!  It leaves me wondering what to do in the future - and how the hell to ship something that is 36″x36″?!  Or bigger?  Any wisdom out there?  I guess I have some research to do.  In the end, I just took them to UPS and had them build a custom box and pack it for me.  I thought I’d have to sell one of my children to pay for it.  SO, if any of you out there have any advice, I’d love to hear it.  I’ve been shipping small 12″x12″ pieces for so long, and so painlessly, that this just seemed so…. difficult. 

On a nicer note, I got a package myself last week that made me a very, very happy girl. Three tiny sets of wings.  A bit gruesome, I know,  but these birds were found, not killed for their wings.  A bit of them will live on as art. 

Thank you, C, for the fabulous surprise!