Watching The Paint Dry

I Heard Everything You Said About Me...

and I am pretending I don't care.

 
"Impervious"
5" x 5"
Mixed Media on Canvas

 

A Facebook friend who is actually my older sister's cool, high school, boyfriend posted this status update yesterday. 

"I am finding the key to success is the precarious balance of 'caring more than anyone else' while simultaneously 'not giving a shit'."

-Gary Nadeau (who turned into a cool grown up too)

I'd been thinking so much about this that it was a painfully sweet relief to see it posted so susinctly on Facebook...like popping a zit. The throbbing pressure of catering to your critics is so tempting to pick at. Ignore it and go through the day humiliated, pretending you don't mind or start focusing on it and make a permanent scar.

I read the autopsy results on "Painter of Light" Thomas Kinkade this morning. I was always both appalled and impressed with his audacity.  He professed to not care about how the art world viewed his work and relished in the adoration of his fans. I marveled at his bravery even as I slammed his schlocky work and marketing. Apparently he cared a great deal and never found the balance between caring more than anyone else and not giving a shit. I suppose focusing on your admirers is equally as perilous. 

Perhaps this is why the creative process is such a lonely journey.

I'm sorry, Thomas, that your life wasn't as full of light as you professed.   

Rest in Peace, Maurice. Thank you for sharing your dark side. 

Time stop picking and get back to work. 

Imminent Threat

Last night I nearly got skunked. I took Molly out without turning on the lights, hoping to find the Super Moon. She leaped quickly towards where the wood pile used to be but stopped abruptly; ears perked. Something skittered around and stopped abruptly in the shadows. I tugged and turned quickly back into the house. No barking. No spray.

Disaster averted.

For everyone. 

To me, Molly is a loveable creature that sleeps curled behind my knees every night.

Who am I to tell the skunk she is not a threat? That is only my reality. I'm sure Molly could snap a skunk's neck. Why blame a skunk for not believing I have the situation under control?

"Don't Be Afraid of 4" work in progress.

I have been thinking about this painting for months. Layla explained to me that 4 was her enemy number because she sees it everywhere and things come in 4 wherever she looks. My urge was to tell her that stance was ridiculous but who am I to say that 4 isn't her enemy number? Maybe 4 just bugs the hell out of her every day. I wouldn't believe someone who told me Tuesday wasn't orange. It just is. I don't get it but I "get it".

I got a free sample of spray paint from Liquetex. Luckily it came in the exact color of 4, so it seemed like a good time to start this painting. I painted up until a point and cracked open the free sample only to be met with a spayer-less spray paint can. I consider myself fairly well versed in various mediums but my spray paint experience doesn't go much beyond the Rust-oleom I used to spray paint my jeans when I was 13. I've got a nice spot ready for a Liquetex Cadmium 4 but it isn't going to happen today because it never occurred to me a sprayer wouldn't be attached. How strange the mind works certain that 4 is red but unable to foresee not getting the paint out of the can. I hate being surprised by my own ignorance. That Rust-oleom is looking pretty tempting though.

You tell me what can looks more inviting right now?

 

Today I'm reminding myself that everyone has blind spots and threats both real and perceived. Knowing when to tug, turn and walk away is an important life skill. There is no use sitting around trying to explain to a skunk that I am not a threat when they are born knowing I am. Getting through the day not stinking up everyone around me with my own self-preservation is something to work on too.

 

Do you know what I'm talking about? Do days of the week, numbers or letters have colors, smells, personalities for you?  If so,  you might have fun taking these synesthesia tests at http://synesthete.org/

Are You Busy?

An innocent question always asked politely.

I don't know how to not be busy.

I'm starting to learn. 

"Peace in the Flower Riot"
9" x  12"
Mixed Media on Canvas Stretched Board

$100

SOLD

Elizabeth get's first dibs though. 

Out Of Body

I have been away from my body for too long.

Focusing on work  has kept me locked in my head; busy with logic threads, systems and worry. Last week I felt I might get sucked into a river gorge by the verdant beauty pulsing out my car window.  Not that I was considering a leap from a bridge, but I realized neglecting this earthly vessel could prove fatal. I need to move back into my body to keep me safe. I need to pay attention. This will be my 41st Summer. Time to look at rebuilding infrastructure. 

I have good bras for going out and crummy bras for sweating and painting. I bought new bras so I will always be able to wear a good one. This body needs support all the time.

Last summer, my friend streamlined herself with a "Butt Bible" work out. I inquired about it today but opted for a core routine as I think this issue is most certainly a core one. Why am I afraid to take care of myself?

Tomorrow I will find a new mattress, a firmer one that does not make my back ache. I need to rest, burrow with my husband and let go of the soft, weary, complacency of a mattress that just isn't right for me anymore.

 

Work in Progress

 

My friend Elizabeth posted this today. I'm not having a good day and certainly needed to be reminded that the journey is home.  For some reason though, when I sat down to paint I kept thinking about her flowers that are a "riot".

My head flowers are rioting and apparently looting valuables from other parts of my life. I painted and painted and forgot that I should look at the clock. I needed to go on an hour long drive and had about 40 minutes to do it. Clearly I also need to be aware that when moving back into my body, my head will sometimes be up my ass.

 

10 Easy Fail Proof Ways to Make Great Art!

...doesn't exist.

If it feels easy, I'm not doing it right. 

If I never fail, then I haven't gone as far as I can.

 

Works in progress.

Progress is slow and unsteady after nearly a month away.

 

 

Unleashed at Strathmore

I am so very proud to be inlcuded in this show. I can't believe my name is on the same invitation as some of these artists. Sadly I won't be able to bring Molly to see my "Pink Chihuahua" there.

If you are in the area, stop by and take a picture for me!

 

 

Many thanks to my sister Moira McLaughlin her site Dog Art Today where my work was discoverd! 

Unbridled Joy

It is the first really warm day of the year and I am experiencing unbridled joy bordering on violence.

I want to snap open the sky and stuff it up my nose, scream at it for being so high and out of reach. I want to gnaw on the air while I stampede the tender grass. I want to light a fire and kick a tree, skin my knee and crack my head open, stand on the stars and plan my summer invasion.

I want to pounce with abandon knowing nature will win, feeling like a 2 year old wrestling with Dad.

Works in Progress. Don't know what it means and there is a crumb in the shot but who cares. It is 79 and sunny!

Build It and They Will Come

Why not stick with the Kevin Costner theme since this phrase keeps ringing in my ears. I've been wandering the corn field for a while thinking, "Someone should really put a magical baseball field here. I would do it if I only had the time and resources."

When my enthusiastic lit agent proved to be less enthusiastic than I hoped, I realized I already had one foot in the outline of another life and project. It is something I do quite often. I hold the vision for the way I want things to be then move into it piece by piece. The new life usually isn't exactly what I expected and I am surprised by what elements don't make the move, but is often better. When disappointments arrise it is difficult not to shatter the entire construct in frustration or chop off the foot than bravely started stepping forward.

My foot is still intact and that little voice keeps nagging me to try something difficult without being sure of the outcome. 

It is my vision and it needs to be nutured by me a little more closely until it is ready to walk on its own. 

 
Layla showing her new semi-perminant pink highlights to the flamingos. 

After a wonderful day at the zoo with Layla's class, I went to bed at 8:00 with a good book and clean sheets. This morning I mentioned how I was "zoo'ed out" and Sabrina, my 4 year old, replied "Yeah you were exZOOsted."

Magic.

 

Do You See That I am Your Friend?

The final scene of "Dances With Wolves" always makes me weepy.

Even the warlike Wind in His Hair found common ground in the human experience to extend his friendship after much hostility and misunderstanding. 

The spirit of friendship bridged across cultural differences is a powerful theme that resonates across the internet. Last week I was reminded of how lucky I am to have so many enthusiastic, generous, kind and intelligent friends connected in my world wide web. My nearly 20 years of communicating and learning online paid off in a great way by winning a new website from John Burnett via The Outside Inn Blog. 

Winning aside, one of the most special by-products of this contest was seeing people I have never "met" repost the the link referring to me as "their friend". I am your friend and you are mine. So many of you have shared my life experiences and have been a constant source of support and encouragement. Facebook love is real and I found a beautiful definition (and a new friend) in the gentle and powerful work of Tree Turtle.

I am equally happy for BYOB who also won a prize photo shoot. I am a huge fan of their sulfate free red that tastes like the Italian table wine I remember sampling from clay pitchers on a sunny afternoon in Florence. I especially love it because it doesn't keep me up at night! 

© 2012 InnSide Nevada City

 

I  wish you all could taste it...maybe you should.

WHO WANTS TO COME VISIT?

I have an idea; a crazy idea. I want to meet my friends. I want my friends to meet my community and plug into the the natural and creative force that is here. I am thinking about putting together a trip and welcoming you all to meet each other or reconnect. 

I am compelled to share our most precious natural resource (more precious than the veins of gold buried in the hills), the people.  The artists, poets, musicians, vintners, farmers, writers, filmmakers, environmentalists, entrepreneurs, crafts people that create this community everyday. There are so many people here to nurture and inspire in the form of creative classes, workshops and expeditions. The food, wine and beer are great too. 

We would love to have you. I'm thinking September. Please let me know if you're interested and I can start getting it organized. No commitment but I know if there is a tiny bit of you that wants to come, we can make you an offer too good to resist.

Your Friend,
Sheila 

 

P.S. I also want to give a shout out to Polly’s Paladar, Jacobson Chiropractic, The Food Love Project, Matteo’s Public and Sierra Commons. I have used or am planning on using all of their services. They are my friends too. Please stop by in person or virtually to learn about how awesome they are. 

 

 

 

All My Eggs in One Basket

My creative eggs have been all over the place lately. I've been seeking out warm spots for them to hatch, hiding them there and hoping to count some chicks. There was even a tiny one tucked beneath a mega million lottery ticket and wrapped gently in plans to give millions away as well as secure the financial freedom to  paint and enjoy my family.

The majority of my eggs were put in the hands of a NY literary agent who seemed so enthusiastic. I figured when I didn't hear from her in a while, it was "a pass" but it still hurts to get the rejection this morning. It hurts more than losing the lottery but only a little more. 

"White Still Life"
Oil on Canvas
36" x 36" 

Here is a painting I did in college that hangs at my parents house. I can still do a still life like this but don't want to so I'm glad it is on a piece of canvas to share. It made me think about how much longing I had for my future self in college. I would tell that girl to enjoy her ride, stay present and quit worrying about being fat. That is still pretty good advise.

I can still make art and enjoy my family. That's the most secure basket there is. My dues are paid up in most important matters and there is plenty of ride to enjoy. I don't have to paint a "White Still Life" to earn my degree. I can paint whatever I want and write what I want...

and eat deviled eggs.