Life is an endless process of growth.  Growing physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Sometimes we grow backward.  Sometimes we have to get re-nurtured in order to grow-up more.  At least, that is the case with me.  I am on a constant journey of trying to figure out my life… Inside and out.  I seem to want wholeness all the time. “A creature of comfort” could be on my epitaph.  I am realizing, in my maturing mind, how often I seek this place of euphoric rest.  And I have been through stages of seeking this comfort with food, with friends, in my art, in time alone, in spa treatments, in time spent with my husband, in seeing my kids have fun, in controlling things that I feel are being done unjustly.

Side note: once I drove through a crowd gathering for a fight  in a Wendy’s parking lot.  I just wanted the pain, whoever’s pain it was going to be, to be stopped.  And me, in my Dodge Omni, felt invincible (yes, I see the sheer irony in that).  The crowd simply reformed after my attempt to be like Moses and part their sea.  My friend in the car convinced me I could not do anything to help the situation and really shouldn’t ever attempt doing that again.

But back to the comfort thing… Constantly, I try meeting the needs of this little girl who stuffed down her needs for so long…  Who felt that there was too much going on in her house with her siblings and parents to reach out for all she wanted… needed.  And so now, here I am in my thirties finally realizing that my crazy habits of seeking comfort are just to appease this deep down yearning.  The walls set up kept the hurt from happening and keeps anyone from getting too close.  Which leaves me lonely… a lot.  A bitter sense of being left to fend for myself in a tragic and unsafe world.

But now, now, I hear the voice, not just the echo.  I know it’s there loud and clear.  And now the light will shine on it.  And soon all that I poured into soothing me can be poured into others.  Someday, I will be healed.  Someday, I will pass along this goodness to someone who needs to hear it.  Someday, I will arise from the ashes and gaze around at my new world.  Because I survived… And overcame an engulfing storm that hid me in its depths… but didn’t win.

I finished a painting the other day.  It was months in the making… Well, sort of.  I had done most of it  in one sitting a while back, but then when I got to the boat I felt really intimidated.  Boats have a certain look.  They are shiny, detailed and at times textured… They breathe somehow.  Their weightless freedom exudes life.  A boat in water is a beckoning of choices.  The mind knows that a boat is detailed and purposeful.  With living things occupying it… most of the time anyway.  It knows that a boat often conjures up ideas of relaxation… freedom… indulgence or at the very leas, a peaceful existence somehow.  But the photo I was painting from locked me into a very strict palette of whites (blue-hued to grey-hued) to work with.  It seemed too technical, and so I froze.  I made excuses not to finish.  I said the paper was warped.  I said the picture was to small to work with. I decided I really didn’t know what a boat looked like to be able to relate enough information between my mind and hands.

But alas, it is finished.  The paper is still warped.  The boat is a bit abstract.  But it is a full-fledged painting.  And I am proud of it.  Astonishment hits me everytime I finish something striking.  I really couldn’t teach someone how to do it.  But it just flows out.  I guess that is why a unique ability is called a “gift”… Because its goodness is so unexpected even to the one who possesses it.

So, Capria learned a new word today… Inspiration.  And when it hits, it’s hard to say no to it.  :)

I wish I had oodles of time.  Time to just bust out big canvases and make paintings of all sorts of feelings and moments.  Time to just be quiet and create.  I have time now, but it comes in spurts.  And the few hours I take for the mural each week are becoming addicting.  I want to start make huge paintings on my walls at home.  The feeling of painting something as permanent as a mural is so cathartic.  Now if only I could get paid for it!  I did drop off some  mini oil paintings on mini easels at the Newark Arts Alliance near the Newark Co-op (yep, that’s plug so check it out).  I also drop off a few pairs of snowmen earrings.  It would be nice to make money with what I love to do…  And blessings people with art really is a passion I have.  I would give it all away but I need money for supplies to make more stuff.  All in due time I suppose.

Today is a mural day… Pictures to follow.  Thanks for reading and being interested in my yammering.

I missed the last mural paint time and they started the “Starry Night” swirls without me.  I was really bummed out since that was the part I was looking so forward to.  But, what’s done is done.  And at least I can say they are taking it from my illustration (…that Mayor Vance Funk himself thought was pretty good and he was excited to see it go up).  So, you can’t have it all.  In the end, its gonna be awesome and I hope you all get a chance to check it out!

Amtrak mural sketch complete

Illustration for Submission

Today is my day… my birthday that is.   And a fine day to finally blog about something. There are many things I could write an entry on like my age… or my shifting time in life… or what I am learning about myself and the people around me. But I am going to write about something else: the biggest project of my life.  Literally.

A few weeks ago I saw this class listed in the Newark Arts Alliance Class program: Sept. 17-Oct. 1st, 3 Thursdays, 6-8pm plus additional time painting a mural outside on the weekends. Mural Workshop for Public Spaces /102 Taught by Terry Foreman. Ages 14 to adult. Learn how to develop a design concept into a finished drawing that can be presented to a client. Then adapt approved design to a working sketch that is transferred to an outdoor space. Group will collaborate on a single design that includes students individual components that look good together. Design will be painted on a outdoor public space in Newark. Additional painting time will be coordinated by the teacher during times/dates following the workshop depending on weather and students availability. Fee is based on classroom time only.

And now I am working on a mural for the town of Newark, DE. How cool is THAT?! I went to the class figuring there would be like 5-10 people in it. All of us coming in with ideas and eager to grow and learn. But it was just me and one other student the first week.  The second week we had to come with our ideas, better yet our “brainstorms” on themes. Well, I was the only one to show up that night.  And when I presented my idea the instructor loved it.  And thus, the idea for a mural was born.  It is growing and taking on life.  A new student showed up last week and is helping to sketch some of the items in the mural. Which is cool because she is working within my theme.

The place where the mural will be painted is at the Newark Train Station… On a buttress for the  896 bridge that reaches over the tracks… Where trains of people will go past it ALL THE TIME.  I am amazed.  One of my life’s dreams was to create a public work of art.  To have a chance to brighten someone’s day just because they walked past something I made.  And now it will happen. Granted I can only paint in the time I have available.  Leaving my “mural baby” at the mercy  of those who come to paint when I am not there.  But the seriously?  Who cares?  It’s still my idea.

There is still one major hurdle to jump over before the actual painting can begin.  The mayor of Newark needs to see a color sketch and approve of the idea.  He may have some opinions, not to mention some ideas of his own.  So in the long run my idea may change in some ways.  But either way this experience is awesome.  A mural!  ME?!  I am always amazed at what God has for me… Despite my complaining… Despite my choices to give in to being selfish.  He still looks after me…  He still loves me…  He still smiles at me because he knows I am nothing good without Him… and I will always come home to His open arms waiting to take me in and refresh my soul.

I am also in the process of a watercolor for my hubby.  It’s missing a huge part: the main sailboat.  But I feel stuck.  I am afraid that if I start it and it comes out wrong I will be so frustrated.  I love the water and the reflection so I am waiting for the same inspiration for the boat.  It will come.  I just have to wait to dive in and do it.

For almost 10 years I have been a stay at home mom. At first that is what I really wanted to do. I love kids and find them to be so great to entertain. But well, three kids later and I hardly ever find enough time to work on my creative gifts. It is partly my fault since I never established any “my time” on a regular basis.  I just took what I could get and too often I got the worn out hours at night.

Back to the creating… So I painted some little canvases and am excited to finish them. I used some water-based oil paints by Holbein. They were fun to work with but I think it is going to take a lot a of practice to really understand how to use them. I am so used to watercolor that oils are completely foreign. With watercolor you leave the white space of the paper for your light areas, but with oils you just keep building upon the colors and it is like working backward.  So, it is just more difficult and they take so darn long to dry! If I get anything finished I will post it.

Not sure if any of this makes sense… But there is some sort of therapy in getting to paint.  The smooth lines that drift from the brush…  The cool depths and warm finishes some paints leave are so deeply soothing.  I love painting.  I love seeing the gift God has so graciously given me get put to good use.  Today I got to do face painting at our church’s Water Fun Day.  I LOVED it!  I loved it so much that I think it would be a fun side business.  I am already looking into purchasing professional face paints.  It isn’t too costly and if people are in the market for a decent face painting artist, well, I can be at their service.  I have been needing a fun job and an outlet for YEARS.  And well, getting to paint for hours at a time just isn’t happening yet.  So, this little business would work out well.

This brings me to my newly posted painting.  Here is an abstract I painted a year ago or so.  To me is has warmth and “galaxical” depth.

What cannot be seen from your screen is the metallic overtones the painting carries.  The sun itself its warm with golden luster and the light rings swirling about it are layered in highlights.  I loved making the circular motion with the paint brush.  If you have never done this I recommend picking up some paints and a good brush and practicing circular motions.  It is in some way therapeutic.  The repetitive motion simply relieves, refreshes, and gives a feeling of refinement to your muscles… That is until you do it for too long and wear yourself out (something I am not recommending, but to each their own).

It’s interesting how I take on abstract thinking… The sun had a limit.  The aura around it does too once it hits the darkening boarder.  It’s funny, even in my abstract views of objects I cannot help but find comfort in boundaries.   But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

So, for Joe’s dad’s 60th we all pitched in to get him a nice Nikon point and shoot.  I made him a card with a painting of the camera he got.  The card read “G-pop you’re 60!  So smile….  (inside reads) While you still have your own teeth.”  Cheesy, I know.  But funny.  :)

I was fortunate enough to take some art classes as a kid.  I remember drawing a pastel picture of a sitting rabbit.  Its front legs were really long and out of proportion (… Like it’s creator.  I used to get called “daddy long-legs” for it.  Just by my family, but still it skewed how I saw myself).  I also remember getting to draw a pair of hanging apples on a branch.  The paper we used was wooden.  It rolled up like paper but was wooden on the front.  Completely smooth with grains and varying hues of yellows and browns. I remember very distinctly that I made some mistakes that I could not reverse. And every time I looked at it I felt so frustrated because I actually was very happy  with it at one point during its construction. But somehow I decided it just needed a little  something more.  I went out of the lines and totally hated what it was becoming.  I wanted so badly to make a new one.  I wanted to have a chance to prove to myself that I could do it just right.  But, alas, no such luck.  That portion of the class was over. And my picture was what it was.  For years, I held on to that picture in my closet.  And every time I looked at it the frustration came back.   So, I guess the disgust got the better of me one day and out in to the trash it went.  There were others like it as the years went by.  Things that I knew could be better but for what ever reason didn’t get the attention they should have.  And they too, ended up getting tossed out.

So, now here I am in my thirties creating in spare moments (which are far and few between but becoming more available as my kids head off to school).  If I finish something and do not like it, well, I feel all that treasured time is wasted.  So, I rip up or destroy that which took some time/life from me and gave back no satisfaction in return.  I want no remembrance of it.  No trace of the frustration it caused me to feel.  Sure, it isn’t the object that offended me but my own mistakes in creating it.  And that is a feeling I do not want to revel in.

Sometimes I wonder just how much I would find pleasure in creating had I just gotten that degree in Fine Arts.  My parents wanted me to, but I felt so driven to make people’s lives better. I figured a degree in Social Work/Counseling would really be beneficial to the world.  Afterall, I didn’t want to end up a starving artist.   But in the end I have only used that aforementioned degree in varying moments. At the time in which I chose my area of “expertise”, I felt compeled to get that degree for the shear fact that God had delivered me through counseling I had received and  I should only do the same for others. Besides, at the time, my view of artists was that they were so free in their thinking and loose in their morals.  Not to mentioned far too carried away with passions of varying kinds.  (Yes, I was a bit sheltered, immature, unlearned, fearful, you name an excuse and I probably used it).  I knew that I was too weak for that kind of challenging.  I didn’t want to sink.  I didn’t want to get carried away.  I didn’t want to be led into temptations.  And even worse I didn’t want to express things that my peers would have scolded me for.  (Take that however you want)

The years have taught me well.  There are many ways to bless and heal a hurting heart.  There are also many ways to express oneself.  And if others find offense in what which one creates that is their own feeling to deal with.  Some believe artists can get carried away, but in many ways they free themselves from inner turmoil and allow themselves to see the world in the many grey areas it actually dwells.

For me, I find peace in creating things that are peaceful reminders of the gentleness of the world.  I enjoy illustrating and painting the things that are free from the weight of this world.  I like dwelling in the simplicity of their lives.  I believe that there will come a day when I will dig deeper in to my abstract side and produce things that are bizarre at best.

But all that said… There will be more to look at in the gallery as the days go by.   The picture enclosed in this post is one from college.  It is not nearly as in-depth as I would prefer, but the colors are peaceful nonetheless.

So, I need something to reach for. I need to feel like I am needed in someway. I want to create. I want to be needed to create. I want to feel some freedom in my day and expectation in my talent.
I need time to produce projects and research and practice my skills. But time is the one thing I can’t get. It just isn’t available. Of course, I could find some time… like an hour here or there, but that is not enough to truly delve into an art form and really feel it flow.

Forgive me for this silly post… that is if anyone is still listening… I am hoping someone out there will again some day if they are not now. And maybe find me some work… Not that I have a lot to offer. I just want to make some money doing something I enjoy… Ideal job for all huh? Not a lot of money, just something to symboliize that I accomplished something. The money really isn’t the thing… The accomplishment is. The feeling that there is worth in what I create. In fact, if I could make paintings for orphans with no money, but a true sense of valuing something beautiful, and if it meant earning nothing but respect that would be worth something to me.

I have mush brain… I can’t think clearly to plan my life. I can’t help but wonder just how much brain-power I will ever have if I don’t have much now.

So, I am going to start with a new blog. Now if I can just actually accomplish this I would be getting somewhere.

Then I envisioned a bird in a nest sitting there on my simple branch. But as I looked at pictures online nothing really looked like the angle and view I needed. So, I found a simple little bird and used it for my guide.

As I looked at the branch all colored and full of life, I knew I needed a better tool for what was to come next. I had to find something that was a little sharper and easier to manipulate through the semi hard surface…So I grabbed a crazy wall hanger thingy that was laying around on my desk. (I got these things at a hardware store, recommended by some guy who said one little nail could hold like 50 lbs!! I bought them to hang up my art work, whatever it turned out to be. It is sort of like a nail with a disk in the middle and about 3/4 inch big and angled slightly.) Anyway, it was just what I needed (although a little short) to make more refined strokes.

Soon I was carving out my pencil lines and seeing the little bird come out and become a permanent piece of the board. Once carved, I got to begin my favorite part… choosing colors. The image of the bird was in black and white and so all of the colors were up to me to bring it to life. As I mixed browns and yellows and blues and blacks the creature came to life with personality in her eyes. I felt like she looked at the heavens for guidance… Much like the artist who brought her in to being.

Well, all I can say is no matter how many things I make, when finished I think “how the heck did I make that!? Simple me? How am I able to instinctively color and shade these things that flow out of my hand. Huh…” Then I figuratively shrug my shoulders knowing all too well that I am merely a vessel. That my gift is simply put in me to share with others and hope that is awes them too. I know maybe that sounds a bit conceited, but really, when I feel successful at something I simply cannot take all the credit. I feel like I must thank the One who gave me the privilege to create… And hopefully, to be effective at touching people’s hearts in the process… Blessings…

There is a metallic sheen on the image that can not show up except in person, but gives it a very warm heavenly effect.