It’s been almost a year since I brewed a cup of tea in Mama’s house, the cottage that’s been serving as my temporary studio ever since she died. I’d bring my own tea when I came down to paint. And when I finished it I’d walk up the hill to my house and make another cup.
Even though Mama has a complete kitchen. Even though this was a place of countless cups of tea.
It didn’t cross my mind to put the kettle on down here. Until today. Today I decided to be brave.
Well, actually it was the assignment in Bloom True, Flora Bowley’s on-line painting class. Today we were to face our creative fears and paint them anyway. Embrace whatever emotions the process brings up, head on. So I decided to take the horse picture from last week, the one that was in the early stages, and see if I could finish it. Because it’s easy for me to start paintings, much harder to finish them. Especially a painting that challenges me to find it in the marks, to let it be a dance between paint and canvas.
It’s still not finished. But it’s richer. Much richer.
Here’s how it looked last week.
Here’s what I did today. Think the color is off in the photo. It’s not quite this yellow. This gives you the idea.
But this post isn’t about the painting. It’s about being brave. About letting things come up, And facing them when they do.
One of the first things I do when I come down to the studio is put on some music. Music and painting go together. Dancing too. I’m a multi-tasker. Today I chose Glen Miller. Big band stuff. Mama’s music. Just appealed to me for some reason. Then I put the kettle on. Her kettle. Her stove.
I brewed a cup and sipped on it as I painted. Got carried away with the painting and the music. Eventually the tea grew cold. I put the kettle back on to hot up the tea and as I was filling the cup with the boiling water it hit me…the last cup of tea I had with my mom. Or the last one we talked about having.
It was a day, maybe two, before she died. The days were all running into each other by that point and it’s hard to distinguish one from another. One sister was up at my house taking a much needed break, the other was enroute from Norway. All I know is I was alone with my mother and she was dying.
She struggled to get comfortable in the hospital bed we’d set up in her living room. As I helped her adjust her position she asked me why was her body doing this? She looked so perplexed it nearly broke my heart.
Why was her body doing this? Why was it finally giving out after nearly 96 years…
Because you’re so damn old, Mama. I said it lovingly. Jokingly.
But she needed more than that. I needed more than that. Because we had danced around the inevitable for years but never openly discussed it. She’d moved into the cottage seven years earlier so I could take care of her during her final days. It was the elephant in the room. And he was getting bigger every day.
She didn’t need me to give her the church position. She’d had plenty of visits from her priest, the deacon from her church, the spiritual advisor from Hospice. She knew all about the heaven and Jesus thing. But she wanted to know what I thought.
So I told her about an experience I had once when I thought I was dying. When I realized I couldn’t control what was happening to my body but I still had a choice how I could react. When I realized I could embrace the unknown with fear. Or with love. And I chose love.
“Oh, I like that”, she said with a beautiful smile. “Choose love.” And then she told me to put the kettle on. “Make us some tea. And we’ll drink it with love.”
So I did. But by the time it was ready she’d drifted off to sleep. So I sat there on the sofa within arm’s reach of her bed and drank the tea for the two of us. With love.
Worked all day doing technical computer stuff. Which means I sat on my butt. And stuffed my face with salty things. I got up from time to time like they say you’re supposed to. You know, stretch. Run a mile. Walk ten feet to the kitchen counter and snag more Cheezits.
Well, one outta three isn’t bad. Depending on which one.
So when five o’clock came around I was more than ready to head down to the studio and shake some things up. Like my jiggley parts. I put on my newest CD from Putumayo, African Beat. And then I followed that with some Anderson Family Bluegrass. Because my taste in music is as eclectic as my taste in junk food. If it’s in front of me I’ll either listen to it, eat it…or paint it.
This time I got two outta three. And they were good for me.
Here’s the Anderson kids. They’re local, even though this was recorded in Nashville. I’m into plugging the local talent.
Speaking of local talent, I’ll show you what I did tonight. Oh, it’s very much a work in progress but if you’ve been wondering every time I show you another canvas loaded with layers WHAT is she going to DO with that thing…and I wouldn’t blame you for questioning that because, quite frankly, so was I…well, tonight I just grabbed one of the 2X2 background canvases and had at it.
This is what it was when I began.
I turned it every which way. Squinted. Danced around with a paintbrush in my hand and discovered…ponies! Somewhere on the canvas was a mark that told me horses live here. Even as I drew them I continued rotating the canvas. So they’re every which way. Upside down. Backwards.
But it was confusing with all the energy bouncing off that canvas. Ponies everywhere. Dots. Squiggles. Lines. I needed to block in some areas of c.a.l.m.
I began blocking out some background areas. This is where I started getting a feel for the composition and the style of the horses.
This is where I left it tonight. I changed out some of the original horses and will no doubt change out one or two more before it’s done. This is still early days, maybe 50% finished. Maybe 40. Really, I. Don’t. Know. And I won’t know until I get there.
So that’s how I spent my Wednesday. Not much studio time but enough to go to bed feeling like I accomplished something. And I always sleep better when that happens.
Three canvases, two 2×2, one 3×4. Good size. Good music. Good time in Studio Grande.
Works in progress. Three layers? Four? I don’t even remember. But that doesn’t matter because there will be many more before these are done. Not my usual palette, I’ll warm them up. But I want to retain some bright too. Tomorrow…tomorrow will see.
Today I’d like to share more art with you, pieces created at the same time as the two previous ones featured in Flying. These two are what would’ve been the dip in the diptych of those others had I not let nature take its course and…distract me.
The palettes are similar because I tend to mix too much paint, especially when using the cold wax. And since I can’t see wasting it…TaTa! A series is born!
And now, without further ado….
Free Flight, oil and cold wax. 12″x24″
This one is special for me. I look at it and see a soul breaking free from its earthly ties. I see Mama just drifting away. Floating.
Grounded. Oil, cold wax and plaster. 12″x24″
This is the opposite. Weighty. Solid. Like a rock, or the earth. The plaster underneath adds to the texture.
I really enjoy working this way. With brayers and squeegies and bare hands steeped in the buttery oils stiffened with wax. Pushing and pulling the paint along in layers upon layers. Scraping it back. Scribbling with pencil. With pigment sticks. Losing myself in the process until the muse whispers…it’s done.
Hello my sweetums…I’ve got such a treat in store for you! Really, a TREAT. Jump up and down. Get all excited. And then go grab some dark chocolate.
Go ahead, I’ll wait.
And while I’m waiting I’ll gaze adoringly at Precious Man Dog. The real deal is curled up against my thigh, crowding the laptop. But since there isn’t room here for all of you, the photo will have to do.
And yes, he is a cute as he looks.
He also loves me unconditionally. Totally. Worships me, even. And that’s why (ta ta drumroll please) Bean, AKA PMD, is on this week’s bliss list.
Bliss list? Yes, B.L.I.S.S. Everyday things that rock my world and make me smile with appreciation. And gratitude. Because gratitude is a big deal. And, umm…Universe? About that lotto win, the one next week? The one I’d be most grateful for? That would make the list for sure.
Now, back to the chocolate. Break off a small piece. Don’t eat it, savor it. Challenge yourself to experience it with all five senses. Take your time. Take as much time as you need. And when your senses are so full of chocolate goodness you’re about to explode, take a nibble. And let it Melt. On. Your. Tongue.
Ohhhhhhhh…bliss.
And then there’s the tree sweetened oranges. The oh so juicy, oh so sweet, eagerly awaited bring-on-the-first-hard-freeze addition to the produce aisle. The most insane burst of citrus in the world. Oh yeah…these suckers are on my list for sure. My bliss list.
Which is going to be a regular feature here at Arty Life. Because art is all about opening your eyes and SEEING the world. Appreciating the ordinary. Elevating the ordinary.
Why?
Well, Liv Lane, of Choosing Beauty fame, is inviting everyone to participate in the little bliss list. According to Liv, it’s “a chance for all of us to celebrate the little things that brought us hope and happiness this week.” She believes that “when we focus on the sweet stuff of life, the sweet stuff multiplies. And by sharing those small gifts in our lives, we help others notice the gifts in theirs.”
Well, I’m all for that! So every Friday (yes, I KNOW this is Saturday) every Friday I will share a list what was good that week. Of the little things that made me stop and appreciate the moment. And I hope you’ll share your lists in the comments section. And once I get the technical stuff figured out I’ll have links to other blogs who are doing the same thing. Notice the gifts and spread the luuuuuuuv.
But I’m not done yet. There’s still some bliss to share.
Like the satisfaction of a day spent in making art. A WHOLE day!!! These are works in Progress. Time well spent in Studio Grande painting in the zone.
After a day on my feet wielding a brush, a well deserved snuggle with Studio Quat.
And always, Miss Munchkin Fairy Princess. In my thoughts and heart even when she’s not visiting her Grandma.
