oh dear...

Whaaaat???

What the fuck?

What do you mean what the fuck? 

I don't swear, I didn't swear

but now I feel like swearing all the time...

Do This...

Make Marks and Post on a Yellow Wall

Look for Rhythm

Enjoy the Shapes

Feel so Happy

Go Home and Make some ART...

Dancing Sisters Box

Kleenex Box

Washing Machine Box

These are little (4"x4") paintings. Little. Small is actually harder for me than larger. The content has to be definite or it is just a bunch of mush. I made these to celebrate the year anniversary of the BOXX gallery, a very wonderful place.

Maybe it's time...

Maybe it's time to write again... we have lived here 2 1/2 years now. I have a house and a studio and am co-mother to a flock of chickens and 2 chihuahuas. I love this beautiful agricultural valley. 

I am making art in earnest now. 

I have many questions about life.

My apron

There are some things you cannot let go of...

I met K and L when they were 19 and almost 23 and I was 43 or 44. We were all taking the same art classes, printmaking, drawing and painting. At the time I didn't know that the creative process dissolves boundary lines between people. I had somehow become friends, real friends with two women half my age. So of course I questioned it, and was set straight by K. I have learned so much from my friendship with these two...some things practical, some motivational, and everything about friendship can transend generations. 

How lucky I was to meet these two. I am sorry that over the years L has a paint mustache, but you can see how I have used and loved this gift. They sent me this almost 20 years ago...

Yesterday I hung it back on the hook in my new studio. 

I love you both.

Self portraits 2014, collage, ink, paint on brown found paper

I don't like the number five, and here are 5 self portraits I found while labeling my photos. 

My homely, chubby child self full of ideas. 

I'm unpacking paints and brushes. It looks like a studio here. I am itching to start. 

I think writers are braver than artists... it's a little hard to post my childhood self.

I moved... from a big house and a separate 400 square foot studio. I had lots of room. I kept everything. EVERYTHING. It was easier to keep things than to deal with the emotions that arose when I tried to let go of them. Mostly guilt... guilt that someone gave me that and how could i give away anything that G. gave me? Guilt...how could I throw away letters that my sister took so much time and caring energy to write? Uneasy guilt...well I bought that and even if I no longer like it I should keep it, and worst of all ART... my flat files are full and my walls are overflowing.

And then we moved.

I have a choice. I could live surrounded by boxes and piles and a storage place to pay rent on or I could get rid of about half of what I own.

In Marie Kondo's book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, she asks the reader to envision what kind of life they would like to lead, what their ideal environment would be, how that environment would make them feel.

The disparity between my MASS OF STUFF and a small house that is spacious, clean, a welcoming place to have tea with friends, a haven is at the moment still large. But... it's getting better!

Yesterday I went through my clothes which wasn't too hard since I buy most of them at the thrift store anyway. They are neat and orderly and well... happy. And I feel happy looking at them. I found my favorite work pants...

today my goal is the pile of boxes in the corner of my studio and putting away the shop vac (sounds small I know, but it's been in the house for weeks... how these odd things stop us???

There is something powerful about downsizing and getting rid of what you don't need. It frees you up to be in the here and now and move forward.