how art and Leonard Cohen heal my heart

hello everyone...

I am not a big fan of social media
and neither is this little bird,
even with the tweets. ;-)

This past Sunday was a difficult day,
but when evening came,
along with it came relief
that day would soon turn to night
and night into a new morning.

During the early evening,
I found my way to the blue room,
and played with paints and paper for a while.
(a great remedy for a sad heart)

If i was a doctor,
this is what i would prescribe to patients.
Solitary time
in a room with a view,
pens, paper,
and a box of Crayolas.
Maybe some music.
And some wine. ;-)

I was all over the place
with sketching and collaging and painting.

Like i had a thousand images in my head that wanted out...

Then i opened a book i had nearby
and landed on this page
and it was fucking poetic.
Don't you love it
when something comes together?
When you read something
or see something
or hear something
at what feels like exactly the right time?

Then i read this one...

What do i do?

i paint.

i write.

i listen to Leonard Cohen.

i count my blessings.

i see miracles in the every day.

Not in heaven,

but here.

In the every day.

i light a candle.

i pay attention to my breathing.

i walk along the ocean.
i read.
i remember.

i look at the moon & stars

and consider how minuscule i am

and how vast the universe is

and yet...

and yet.

xox

(what do YOU do?)

it's a bird... it's a plane... WTF is it?

hello everyone!

Last night's painting session

on large poster size paper/bristol board.

Sometimes, i feel like using a larger format,

but i don't really know what i'll be painting

and i never want to waste large canvas

in case it ends up looking like crap.

So i use poster paper. :-)

i started out with finger painting...

again... my fingers

by this stage, i picked up the brush

birds in the forest...
but i hated the left side.
The orange, yellow, greenish part
that looks like there's a tree on fire.

So i decided to add white & texture.
I used a plastic hair curler thing -
one of the many tools i buy at the dollar store
specifically for art textures.

i also use sponges, 
or whatever else i have in the house at the time.

 filled in some spaces with turquoise, black, white...

a close up of the bird...

this was taken this morning,
in natural light.

and look! i added some red.

Making art is a lot about daring to get away 
from our comfort zone, isn't it?

We're tempted to stay
where it's familiar
where we know exactly which color to use,
or which shape to draw.
There's nothing wrong with doing this,
but if you stick with doing this too long,
I believe the art becomes stagnant.
Predictable.
Safe.

It's good to feel scared when making art.
It's good to not always like what you see.
It's good to give ourselves permission to make bad art.
To use unfamiliar colors.
To make a mess.

It's in the MAKING that the magic occurs.

I read a story somewhere about a woman
who was asked by her psychologist to draw something really bad...
to make him a really crappy drawing.

She froze, starring at the blank piece of paper in front of her,
afraid that her drawing wouldn't be bad enough.
(need i tell you that she was a perfectionist?)

So if you want to create something,
but you're afraid it won't measure up...
give yourself permission to suck.
Give yourself permission to make it really bad.

But make it anyway.
You'll be happy you did.

Your heart will be happy too.
xox

sunlight and shadows...

Good morning peeps.

Yesterday on my morning walk, i saw this beauty.

Well, not this exact one - but a blue jay nonetheless.

So last night, i did this -
a quick little pencil sketch in my journal...

Then some watercolour...
Not too happy with what was supposed to look like
sunlight and shadow - especially the top part.

It looks like he's wearing a little blue fur coat. :-)

i kinda like the little legs... :-)

a bit of green for the background,

to make the light on his stomach more obvious.

A bit of writing,
and a photo taken in natural light, this morning.

The writing reads as follows:

During my morning walk,

i saw this. A blue jay.

In mid November.

I watched him for a while

and then continued on my way.

Until I saw a rainbow,

from end to end.

I stood in my tracks,

since the sky was clouded,

but without rain.

And for a moment,

with my eyes towards the skies,

I believed the universe

really was on my side.

*****

I don't always believe the universe is on my side.

Now you know i'm not always the optimist.

And then, my morning green smoothie.

I know, it's not green,

but it's filled with spinach, celery, carrots and berries,

so yeah, it's green to me.

Morning reading...

Some of you may think this is too dark a subject

for morning reading,

but it makes sense to me,

considering my world at this time.

Understanding something often leads to acceptance.

I think we shy away from this too much.

No one is untouched by death,

and yet,

we avoid discussing it

like we avoid the plague.

I believe science and nature

have so much to teach us,

if we're only brave enough

to open our hearts to our surroundings...

love and hugs to all of you.

Thank for sharing this space with me.

xox

surprise purple bird

hi peoples!

A few years ago,

i came across something on the net called black out poetry.

It's basically using text in newspapers,

or magazines or books,

and hiding (or blacking out) the words you don't need

for the creation of your own masterpiece poem. :-)

You can see a sample here...

I began this journal page last night

thinking about black out poems...

only my poem ended up being loose words

just scattered across the page

willy-nilly. 

:-)

And the text i chose happened to be

from a boring article about finances.

Yawn.

Still - i managed to find a few choice words in there.

The purple bird just kinda happened

when i began to contour a few leaves

and saw the shape of a bird.

Well, ok, i kinda made it into the shape of a bird. 

:-)

This is a photo i took this morning, in natural light.

What a difference it makes, huh?

These colors are much closer to reality,

although the leaves are a punchier lime green.

And speaking of green...

let's talk money for a minute.

I read a lot,

although i've never been interested in books like these.

But this morning at the book store,

this one caught my eye

and practically jumped off the shelf and into my hands.

Published in 1937 - before it was even cool to be rich. :-)

I was raised to believe

that money is the root of all evil,

that money can't buy happiness

that those who seek wealth are selfish,

that real wealth is found

in a kind heart

rather than a full bank account.

I suspect i was raised this way

because we had no money.

:-)

I believe the greatest thing about having money

is being able to share it.

Being able to use it somehow

to inspire others

to reach their potential...

to realize their own dreams.

And one by one,

make the world a better place.

Maybe I'm naive to think this way -

but i know that in the end, i'd feel better about my life

knowing that I had lived it with an open heart,

rather than hoarding everything to myself.

Hoarding anything is unhealthy.

Especially art.

xoxo

little women...

I don't think I had posted this final painting.

I just had another great night with my brushes & paints. I'll post the results tomorrow. No pics yet...

Did you do anything creative this weekend?

(Remember, creativity is not restricted to painting or art!) :-)

I'd love to hear how YOU choose to express yourself.

Have a great week everyone!

more little women

There is nothing to me like spending a Sunday night with my paintbrushes in hand. It is so important to me to get at least some painting done every day or two. I know it may seem like a lot to those who have hectic lives, but really, it's all a matter of what we choose as a priority.

What's important to you?

Do you have a creative spirit?

Do you have something to say or paint or sing or dance?

I believe we all have stories to tell...

we only need to quiet the world, quiet ourselves, and listen.

listen to the whispers

I am not done this one, but I'm posting here anyway with a little story to explain these little women.

When i was a teenager, I used to be really annoyed by constant complainers. I remember secretly wishing they'd be transported to a secluded, neglected, remote part of the world somewhere, where there was little food & they'd just be dropped off there, alone, to fend for themselves for a few months. See how long they complain after that. I now realize that it has little to do with where the complainer is physically in the world, but it has everything to do with where he or she is mentally.

Constant complainers still annoy the hell out of me, only now, i avoid them like the plague, and I no longer wish anything for them, because i know that they see the world how they want to see it.

But today, if I was to think that something may help them see things differently, it would be a little trip to the oncology center. I just came from there with my mother, who gets chemo every 3 weeks for the next few months. Again. No one visits the oncology center for the fun of it. It's no fun. On my first visit there with her, I saw a young kid, about the same age as my son, 14 or 15... pale, losing his hair, slumped shoulders - and my heart sank. My heart sinks almost every time I accompany her.

I've been with her to most of her treatments, and time & time again, I'm blown away by how random illness is. People from all walks of life & all ages sit in those big chairs & get their bodies pumped with poison in hopes that it'll make them well again. Many are optimistic, hopeful, full of courage. Others seem resigned & defeated. My mother is one who is full of courage. This doesn't mean she is not afraid, or that she knows what the outcome will be. But whenever it's time for another treatment, she goes in there with an open heart & confidence that they are doing everything they can to help her heal. Mom's optimism has taught me to find the good in every day and every one. I may not be as forgiving as she is (especially with complainers), but I'd like to think I'm getting better. :-)

I always leave the oncology center with a deep sense of appreciation. The air always smells sweeter, the trees are always greener. I leave there listening to the whispers...

This series of little women paintings came to life after mom's diagnosis & seeing how she chooses to live her life - despite the difficulties. These paintings are also expressions of love for my friend Liz, who left this world way too soon.

Art heals. 

:-)