" Seeing" is Believing... and Believing .... Is Everything - Part One

There is a double entendre intended in today's post title. Used as a well-worn and overly used adage, it might come off as sounding a bit pedantic. However ... when placed in context with how I have tried to present the concept of "seeing" in terms of creating in past posts... a second and more important layer of meaning is intended. And my whirlwind weekend of painting activity led me try and pass forward some further thoughts that you might mull over... and apply in your own thinking.

The weekend was hectic... no frenetic is a better word to describe the state of action. Unwittingly, I had "double booked" myself and had made two painting commitments to two given parties for the same time frame. Both were extremely important to me... but setting one aside entirely for the other was absolutely impossible for me to consider doing. So I did both! To further raise the bar... I hadn't really painted, as my blog posts indicated for almost a month and self-doubt was edging its way into the picture. Both were situations that demanded being prepared physically and spiritually to participate effectively.

Rather than try to "splain" the whole weekend of activity in a single post, I have decide to spread the "Idea" over two and give each part a single focus to help describe the weekend as it unfolded for me. So, please bear with me...  there is a useful and meaningful (I believe) conclusion to be reached and to be shared by the end of the two parts.

I had accepted an all day Saturday.... introductory... first time plein air teaching session for three adults and two children here in Rockport. My family were long time friends through our cottaging lives with Brian Towe and I had in all truth, I accepted the opportunity mostly because of our past connection. I knew of his wife, her sister only briefly through the process of actualizing the proposed paint out. I had yet to meet the two young people. Along with the very "iffy" weather forecast for the Saturday... so many variables plus my absence from actually painting myself placed me on high alert.

Oh yes... did I mention that I had signed up as well... to participate in a full three day weekend  Paint Out competition with my long time friend and painting pal Frank Edwards? That would take place in the city of Belleville... some two hours west of here. Now you can perhaps better understand the dilemma that I had created for myself . What a pickle!

This is how I decided to engage as a singles player... in a doubles tournament... volley for volley! The truth was that I had to do in my own mind was to somehow honour both commitments... and I did. I went in truth to Frank and told him my sad tale. We agreed that I would paint Friday together in Belleville... as planned and looked forward to by us both. Then I would return to Rockport that same evening and prepare to carry off the Saturday painting class with Brian and family. I would then return to Belleville on Sunday to complete the Belleville Paint Out with Frank. Are you dizzy yet ? Stay tuned.... it gets better! HA HA!!


Friday at The Belleville Plein Air Paint Out

Pictures will tell the story and make the telling of the story easier for all of us

Frank... "brushin" his way thru' the heat and traffic on our dam first site perch above the Moira River

This was the deep view that we selected together to commence the weekend action plan

This fisherman joined me from below my perch for the entire painting session... a pleasant close up encounter with this Great Blue Heron. At least he had a cool place to work!

My view of things and set up

My finished sketch for the morning ...."Rolling Into Belleville on the Moira" - oil on canvas 20x16 inches

Site number two... Looking north from Victoria Park and Belleville Yacht Club towards Belleville town centre

My finished 18x24 inch cradle board sketch of the subject... second of two completed on the Friday

Day # One in Belleville was both exhilarating... and challenging for us both. Despite the heat and having to feel my way around until I found my painting groove... it was wonderful to be painting with my painting pal of thirty years again... after a decade of being apart because I lived elsewhere. That fact made me a winner... right from the get-go... and I know that it was the same for Frank. It was another great adventure... "out there" painting en plein air as.... The Lone Ranger and Tonto!

Stay tuned for the Towe Family Saturday Paint Out in Rockport and the conclusion of the Belleville "gig" in my next post.

Until then... Good Painting... and "Happy Trails"... to ALL!!!

Never Too Young... or Old to Learn!

" I pray every day that God make me a child, that is to say that He will let me see nature in the unprejudiced way that a child sees it."

-Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (1796 - 1875)
French Impressionist Painter

I share Corot's uncomplicated desire to go out to the world with the unprejudiced mind.... actions and heart of a child. I have always tried to do so in both my personal and artistic lives. I continue to work with that principle... and yet at every turn, I find it more and more difficult to achieve. While I can still manage to handle the unpleasant task of limiting adult intrusions with the pettiness and edgy competitive needs that are present around me... it is increasingly painful for me to bear witness to the the disconnect that is occurring between the world of adults and the children. At its worst... I bear witness daily to atrocities being carried out and directed at an alarmingly increasing number of innocent children in every part of the globe... including my own country. And yet still... there is Hope... and I choose to embrace... celebrate and nurture that Hope, using my gifts and my heart.

Today's post is dedicated to two very beautiful minds... already "artists" in their own right at such a young age simply because they express themselves without reservation... fear or rules which limit expression. They paint... draw... act ... and think with complete freedom - a Utopia which the rest of us yearn for and search for endlessly. We had it once... but we either chose,  or were forced "to grow up"... and to "act our age" and leave this kingdom of Joy and Mirth.

This post records their excitement... their joy and as strange as it seems... my own recovery from the sadnesses which have visited me too much as of late. I lovingly dedicate this post to you both... dearest Ava and Ella. Thank you for touching my heart and soul so. You never set out to do so... it merely happened without any of us realizing... and that is indeed the magic and blessing which comes only out of offering "unconditional love." I thank you too Spencer and Jody... for leading your Mom and I  "beside still waters" and allowing us to share in your beautiful children's lives. They speak so eloquently of the consistently loving parenting that you provide these wee souls daily. I can already sense the adventure and success that they will undoubtedly find because of your gifts to them.

Enough said really. I'll let the pictures do the talking from here on... and they surely do in my heart and soul!

 The plein air set up in our yard.... acrylic primary colours... a round... a flat  and a rigger brush... sun screen ... hats...clear recycling bag smocks... and plenty o' room!

Gramma's tender support... always an arm length away!!!

Notice any adults ... snoopervising???? Not required!

Ava yanks all of her subjects from all around her.... this one a robin nesting under the nearby eave of the Gallery

Colourful Ella loves to compartmentalize... then fill spaces with joyous colours that she choose and mixes. Perhaps another Gramma making stained glass! HA HA!! Could she also become a Piet Modrian??.... I wonder......

 An unexpected visitor.... Carl the Duck joins the fun. Interesting.... BUT....

.

.. Back to my easel!

See ya later Carl!

                                                           Subject # 1 - Robin Nesting

Subject number# 2 - Gramma's Garden Flowers... and as always... "Mr Golden Sun" right where he should be... tucked carefully into the corner 

This is our Cranbrook Marginson family. Spencer, Ava, Ella and Jody at Islesview. Thank you for the heart filled with memories Guys! Miss you!

In closing... a line from a favourite Mormon hymn which I continue to sing and keep in my heart:

"There is beauty all around... when there's love at home.

Here is a love letter... a "thank you"... an unconditional declaration of love left on our refrigerator door by Ava. Kindness does matter... more precious a gift than anything else we can offer or dispense. And yet... ironically... offering it costs nothing at all... except conscious effort and time. This will hang on our refrigerator for a very long time. But it is indelibly etched and will be carried in our hearts .... Forever! Thank you Ava!!!

 Love you Gang... "To the moon and back"...

Mom and Bruce
XXXX
OOOO

Family Life and Art

Colour and beauty are a plenty in and around Islesview.The fragrant sweet smell of lilac permeates the night and morning air. There is a freshness... bursting forth and a swelling of promise in every corner of Rockport. My camera and I seem constant companions... whereas my paint box and easel stand quiet in the corner. I think... and am driven to work only in black and white... or not at all for the moment. This situation is not "the usual" for me. Usually, I will be painting up a storm... fuelled by this rebirth of greenery and the excitement... energized by the pulse of new creation laid before me.And yet... in the face of this glory... wonder and excitement, I am lethargic and unfocused. That is the paradox of the situation... the yin and the yang tussling to again regain and achieve harmony and balance.

A Sad Robin's Tale

I have followed a certain female American Robin through her spring nest-building ritual. I discovered her by pure accident as I mowed the lawn one evening. As I passed under the low hanging blossomed branches the noise of the mower caused her to flush anxiously... and in so doing ... revealed her nesting spot. It was a lovely round construction of braided grasses woven together... about the size of a salad or soup bowl. In it was a clutch of four robin's egg blue (an appropriate description for the hue). I immediately ceased mowing and left her to her sitting chore. To disrupt her is to guarantee her abandonment of the nest.

Mama on the nest.... eyes peeled... not stirring

Wee balls of featherless nestlings huddled together for warmth

The anxious mom .... waiting for me to cease and desist.... which I did.

I avoided finishing the lawn... but checked over the next few days and came to realize that she no longer flushed at my approach or presence near the nesting place and that meant one thing. She was incubating young nestlings... and could not leave. Warmth is necessary... since the nestlings are completely void of plumage. I watched her leave and assumed it was for food... so I quickly approached and took a peek. Here was the scene that greeted my eyes.What an honour to share this moment..

Three days passed... and though I watched diligently with interest from afar... I avoided getting close. I watched with my field glasses from the wash stand. It was early morning when I was out taking garbage to the rear of the house... when I flushed a too large black shape up into the nearby dead elm. A crow! I knew in my heart what that meant. Crows loot nests... foraging for food. Though they are listed as carrion eaters (usually dead and decaying animal flesh) they customarily follow adult birds to pin point the nests in nesting seasons and are unrelenting and cold-blooded nest robbers. I feared for my robin friend... and deep in my heart knew that no amount of interference on my part would change the probable outcome.

I parked the lawn mower with my red plaid mackinaw jacket and hat just below the nest site. But beyond hope...I knew when we left to do our necessary chores what I was likely to return to.

 Here is the last line in my Sad Robin Tale. For some strange reason... the sadness  has lingered longer than usual for me... though I had watched this drama act itself out many times. I readily accept that this is the way of the Natural World. Survival is based purely upon Fate...  and Natural Law in the Natural World. That is the intended way of Creation. Somehow... mankind arrogantly seems to regard itself as "exempt" from these rules. Perhaps it is our usually longer "hangin' around time" in this plane of existence which cultivates  and sustains such a notion that we are above Natural Order.

On Mother's Day a similar story unfolded... only this time it was related in human terms. I received a brief... disheartening and numbing email from long time and dear friends. That email revealed that their daughter had unexpectedly and tragically been discovered dead in her apartment. I will not add further details because that is a deeply painful private matter for them... and for me as as well. Let it be enough said to explain my absence from this site and a further block to my creativity. Creativity depends totally upon physical and spiritual freedom to move ahead.

I have moved ahead though, because the original focus of my post was based upon the aspects and importance of "Family".... and that is, as I have mentioned previously in this post ... not limited solely to the animal or human worlds. Fortunately for us, we have enjoyed a whole week of being with Deb's Cranbrook Family and her precious Grand Gals ... Ms Ava... aged seven going on fifty (she's definitely been here before) and her wee fairy-like sister Ella. How uplifting and joyful were their injection into our Rockport lives! Family to both Deb and I is everything... and Art supports that primary focus we have... as you will better understand in my next post... coming your way after the weekend!

I would like to close this post with words which I hope each of you will mull over... and consider whenever you are having your own "stormy day(s)"... as we all do. It is a second email from a most dear and precious friend... who has now tragically lost two of her own brood. I am totally at a loss to comprehend where her courage comes from to offer this to me and other friends who stand helpless by her side at this most terrible time.

"The outpouring of love and support from family and friends for us is overwhelming. It is truly wonderful to receive. And I want to thank each and every one of you and know that you are with us in our grief."

Yes... my post is about sharing my art. But more ... each post is a journal page in my own daily life in every sense of the word. I have learned that family... friends... children at large and our art are the very things which set us aside from other species who share this magnificent planet with us. Let us take care of all of these blessings in our life... in the order in which I have placed them!

Good Painting ... to ALL!

Life is never just black or white ... or "fair" - Part One

"Mistakes are simply the proof that you are trying" - A Tao Proverb

I have always been drawn to the sharp and strikingly strong visual contrast between black and white. I love to work loosely in pen and ink on a pristine and absolutely white sheet of paper. I find the exercise exhilarating and challenging. Sketching without guideline... working always on the edge of making irretrievable errors lifts one into a higher plane of awareness. In my own mind, such drawings are true exemplars of the Yin and Yang duality of life. They speak a pure  language without a need for colour to either add to or take away from the visual experience.

Last Saturday, I spent the afternoon sketching and rediscovering the quaint rural village of Delta... while Deb took part in a conference with her Frontenac Arch Biosphere group . It had been nearly two decades since I had last been to this village. Obviously, many changes had taken place. Some, as is the usual case were positive... while others showed the passage and erosion of time. Some resident buildings had completely disappeared.

The centre piece of this village, and almost every other early rural village in Ontario is a mill. Most were flour and feed, or grist mills for grinding grains. They formed the core for, or were the hub of the development of the economy of these small and often isolated farm communities. They attracted other businesses like hotels and mercantile stores and as well also encouraged institutions like banks and schools to be added. Such was the case for early life in Delta. As in all small rural settings however, when milling evolved into big business it was done in urban centres like Toronto, displacing small mills and thereby bankrupting growth in these smaller communities. Mills gradually became derelict and many reduced to just ruins. That was not the case in Delta.

In 1963, A group of trustees took charge of the mill and managed to raise funds through grants to completely restore the mill. That group is now called The delta Mill Society. They had the site site declared a National Heritage Site and have just celebrated their 50th Anniversary as a fully working mill. Each summer, the mill becomes an active interpretive centre for tourists, with local citizenry acting as guides and providing interpretive activities. The mill even grinding wheat on the original 200 year old grindstones. It is the centre of village festivities for The annual Delta Maple Syrup Festival and the annual Fall Delta Fair. Here is my "yin and yang" tribute sketch completed on site last Saturday.

"A Stepping Stone Back Into Time"

Strange... how the mind separates one from reality when one is fully engaged in "The Flow." The time fairly seemed to melt away as I played around the area of this sketch. Now finished... I can truthfully say that I can't remember where I began the process. I can say that I didn't work top to bottom, but rather played over the entire surface at will... making changes as I felt them. I added the border afterward, so that it is clear that the actual page was considered... rather than a predetermiend rectangular space which is my usual painting preference.

I like the loose and  fanciful feel that is present and the weight of the darks used to accentuate certain areas. It would make a great wood cut or lino subject.... but that's a story for another day. It's in the sketchbook... and thus the possibility for that to occur ... somewhere down the road on this wonderful journey.

In my reading, I came across this wee gem of wisdom from an unknown wise one which I feel describes my own yin and yang voyage.

I am on a journey

With my work,

And a few sad stories.

I travel with a suitcase full of outrageous blessings.

I am on a quest for Truth, Beauty and a Quiet Joy.

I am an Artist, a writer and an Explorer.

.... as are "You"

Rich Blessings and Good Sketching and Painting to ALL!!

Stay tuned for Part Two....

Spring Flutters in... on Gossimer Wings

This "Woodland Trillium Triptych"... consisting of two 16x12 side canvases with a 16x20 inch central canvas image speaks eloquently of the the natural glory to be experienced in most any shady woodland stand across the entire province of Ontario. Amongst the blankets of white trillium blossoms with their three dark green shapely leaves, one can find odd pockets of red trilliums which seem dominant to the eye... even though in terms of  their sheer presence alone...they certainly are vastly out numbered. I always conjure up an image in my eye of an enclave of Catholic cardinals... surrounded by a host of nuns in starched white hooded habits. Don't know why that is.... "Silly Bear"!

My most early memory of the trillium is a hiking sortie with my Mom at about seven years of age We came upon such a sight on that hike which deeply moved my Mom... so much so, that we returned home and came directly back... garden spade and clay pot to carefully dig out a clump to be place in our small quiet garden at the rear of our home in Brockville. That wee quiet space was my Mom's refuge before we purchased our cottage at the Narrows Lane Road near Rockport. It was a small, simple, but beautiful garden because of her naturally artistic eye and flair for colour. Despite being very small, she maximized the space and its visual effect by developing strength... through structure and colour. That strength was something that she taught me at that very early age and I learned through her passion and commitment daily to her gardening art form.

This morning on my early morning walkabout throughout the village, my thoughts continually shifted back back between my deeply seated memories of the past and "Her"... and then back to the present,  as I came upon currently blooming spring flowers of various colours and varieties. Each one... I could remember blooming for a time in her spring gardens. Here are some of those garden bouquets... each resplendent to the eye... each with its own space and all inviting the eye to light and enjoy free of cost...  the beauty of God's work and the creative effort of the hand of an anonymous gardener.

Bright hybrid tulips of every design...

Purple clumps of shy woodland violets... pushed up through a carpet  last years fade and  fallen oak leaves

Yellow tulips spiking above a cluster of narcissus

A trio of red tulip trumpets sounding their annual spring fanfare...

A quiet refuge of flower and structure stops the eye momentarily in the morning shadows

Bright star-shaped golden daffodils...

A quiet garden morning refuge... a wonderful place to drink in the wonder of creation and a hot cup o' java

Spring is firmly rooted in every corner of my world here in Rockport... as are sweet memories of my dear Mom. Her life long love of spring and flower and gardens is now mine to pass forward... and I have done so. My children, be they male or female share that love of the outdoor world. It comes from me for sure... but Mom as well shares a well-earned role in their valuing and finding joy through flowers.

So it seems fitting that this Mother's Day tribute and ode to flowers post be dedicated not only to the memory of my own dear Mom... but as well be spent with much love and thanks to all Moms... and Moms who graduate to Gramma. Without your special kind of love would never manage to exist... except that each of "You" tended your own gardens so well... and with such passion and compassion. Happy Mother's Day from "Me"... to each of you!

I will close out this post with a thought which came to me as I pondered this influence of Mothers as influences which shape the future and remain beyond earthly existence:

"Art is the Garden of Humanity. And we, as artists... are its constant Gardeners."

Happy Mother's Day Mom... wherever you are!

This painted tribute has marked the fork in the road... the arrow pointing towards Kerry Point... the right arm leads to our own summer Shangra-la on Narrows Lane. It was painted by a young cottager as a tribute to her own "Special" Gramma. Tragically... that little teen flower was tragically killed along the Parkway... not far from here more than a decade ago. Time has now forever united that wee child and  Gramma and Grampa. Despite their leaving... this sign has been  maintained... and tended... anonymously for more than a decade. One life can make a difference...as this epitaph reminds me of that Truth ... each and every time I pass it !

The Universe speaks mysteriously yet another time. One of Deb's beloved ruby Throated Hummingbirds has returned to her feeder... just in the nick o' time to give "Her" the best Mother's Day gift ever. Hope.... is in simply believing as only a child can. Sometimes hope can become a dream come true - if you simply believe enough ... to hang out a feeder!

Happy Mother's Day Deb... for helping "Me" to continue to Dream... Hope... and Believe!... "I" love you for these gifts that you bring to me.... unconditionally.... every day of my life!

Plein Air Dividends...

While the act of painting en plein air guarantees neither consistent success... nor comfort, it does support growth opportunities for those willing to endure the at times cruel weather and the elements. Add to those things the additional discomfort inflicted by the insect terrorists such as black flies, mosquitoes and midges, who... in the warm months punish the outdoor enthusiast far worse than the the winter cold. One often wonders why one seeks to place themselves in such circumstances.

From an artistic point of view, the answer is quite simple. Nature has such wonderful lessons to teach us not only about painting. It presents first hand lessons about qualities attributed to humankind such as  nobility... perseverance... loyalty... cooperation... conflict resolution and tolerance to name just a few. Many of these attributes present themselves to the outdoor artist through observing birds... forests and flowers in their natural habitat. One gains a substantially more objective view regarding our own own plights... in our daily lives and problems. Somehow... one always returns more grateful for the gifts of life... of sight... smell touch and taste. All of these senses are heightened... while simply listening... and seeing Nature in its rawest form.

A huge dividend in my own plein experiences over a lifetime... has been the copious and enriching opportunities to meet unique people, most of whom I would never have encountered, except through my painting experience and encounter in their realm. I am the richer for having met them... no matter their circumstances... or their social standing. Whether "simple" or "well off"... "educated" by standard social measures... or by the "school of experience", each offers me insights into life. All seem willing to invite me into their lives and is most often the case... no matter where I go, I am always welcome to return - and I do! Here is such a recent story of this past week that I can share with you.

On my ritual daily walk, I pass an old homestead which certainly has seen better days. But it has always beckoned to me to paint it. This past winter... on a very cold day during that "Thirty Day Challenge"... I did undertake to do so at the end of a bitter day. Mid way through the hour or so that I was painting... the owner emerged from the front porch of the house and ambled slowly towards me. He asked if I minded his "having a peek"... and I offered a welcome to him to do so. Over the course of the last half hour, he recited his entire personal life history... family history and that of the house.

As it turned out, he was related to two of my Narrows Lane childhood pals. Their mother was his aunt. Sydney (and I'll exclude his last name to protect his privacy) had lived his entire life in this home which had been his mother and dad's.... his grandparents and his great grandparents. He now lived alone in the home after his mother became blind and too physically challenged to remain in the house. He had to place her in care at a nursing home. He sees her only occasionally.

By his own reckoning... he was a "failure at numbers", but he was proud of the fact that he could take apart and repair his aged farm tractor as was needed - no problem! He lives totally alone... from bottle to bottle, with only his mongrel bull terrier for company. He heats his one room in the lower storey of the Victorian era wooden home with wood that he draws from his 200+ acre woodlot that surrounds his aging home. His housekeeping has been lost in this imposed state of bachelorhood. Time has passed him by and the life he grew up in and knew has all but disappeared here... and in most other parts as well. There is an Wyeth Olson - Kuerner ambiance here... and I bask in it and in learning about his past... and present lives.

Back to the present. Sydney had asked back in February if the painting was for sale, but both of us knew that my customary asking price for such a sketch was not within his means... or needs. But today, as I passed, he suddenly rushed out to ask if I still had the sketch.He blurted that he REALLY needed to have it. I learned that he had been charged multiple times for DWUI and had lost his licence to drive any motor vehicle (including his tractor). On the last occasion, he was ordered by a judge at trial to serve a term of sixteen months for his ongoing refusal to stay off the road and public endangerment. Fair enough! He was to report for his jail time on Friday of this week and had been given time to set up arrangements for his dog and house.

The dog has a new home across the road with neighbours. But his family have told him that the house will be sold... and likely be gone before he comes out of jail. Everything he owns and has around him to say that he is a person... will likely have disappeared by that time. The only benefit as I mentioned to him frankly , was that he would be sober finally and have another chance to finally start afresh. Needless to say, those words presented a  very shallow sense of hope for him. He was simply overwhelmed by despair... in a word - hope-less!

What seemed to give him some sense of solace was in having my sketch. I guess he felt that in a small way he could still maintain a piece of "Who" he had been. I reflexively offered the sketch as a gift, but he countered that he couldn't accept it that way. He wanted to pay. .. and asked if I'd take $60.00 and something of value from his house. It was a request for Dignity... and I knew it. I said that I would accept those terms, but provided  that I would choose the pieces from his home. I didn't want any of his family articles of worth... just a remembrance of the short time we had spent knowing each other. I chose a small sealer jar and a small oval litho print in a small metal frame. We shook hands... and he seemed very pleased that we had worked out a mutually fair trade.

I shook hands with Sydney... and said my reluctant and sad goodbye at his front door. He will never likely know that I got the better of the deal in the transaction. I have in my heart a memory of being able to add comfort to a fellow traveller. And yes... many years ago now... I too lost everything... except my gift to paint. I feel deeply blessed for that gift... and every day that I wake to a world filled with opportunity for Joy... and the opportunity to share my gift... I feel blessed. I am deeply honoured that Sydney cared so much for my gift too! It goes much beyond $$$$$ and prizes.

"What goes around... comes around!"

I am deeply blessed!....




"Long Afternoon Shadows at Sydney's Sunlit Homestead" - oil on cradle board 10x12 inches


Good Painting to ALL!!!

"Absence ... makes the he(art) grow fonder"

The title for this post at first glance perhaps comes off as sounding rather cliche. It is certainly well worn with use... but the wisdom contained within it should neither ... in my humble opinion be disregarded, nor should it be underestimated in its intrinsic value to the creative individual. Rest... or stasis is a valuable part of the creative process.

Stasis can be defined as a state of stability, balance or equilibrium during which no evolutionary growth is either noted or felt. In art forms like painting and literature it is referred to as a "block." In the sporting world this condition is described as a "slump." In either case... it simply means that the usual vigour and predictably high standards expected in terms of performance... is noticeably absent and is viewed as unacceptable. Such is the condition of human expectation. We falsely lead ourselves to believe everything in life can be measured in an linear upward curve... a new zenith always in sight.

Common sense should tell us that such an expectation is unrealistic and unachievable. The creative growth of anything is carried out in bursts... in huge jumps and gains. But this is the moment is when that universal law "that for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction" takes effect. We tend to "plateau"... even off in performance... just as occurs in attempts at weight loss dieting regimens. There comes a natural time when such growth and development must grind to a too abrupt halt. Learning to accept the fact of its existence within and deal with it in a positive light... rather than becoming overly critical and self-deprecating should become the goal.

As an artist, think of the situation as an actual painting project. Each painting is composed of various necessary and predictable elements. When used carefully and in concert, we achieve harmony, colour, temperature and mood through the application of pigments of varied hue, chroma and thickness... hopefully with a variety brushwork. Within that painting... harmony... balance and equilibrium is created through a push n' pull process which weaves together these elements in a tapestry-like composition. Then consider what influential mentors never fail to employ in their own work... or to mention to their students. That cardinal rule goes like this:

"Always leaves spaces and places for the viewer to rest as they explore your painting surface. Those spaces are as important as any other of the above-mentioned ingredients for success"


In music... that halting... intentionally placed rest creates excitement. The preceding dazzlingly beautiful crescendo of most classical music... is drawn emphatically to a halt... either with an abrupt ending... or a correspondingly sweet decline into that glorious state of absolute silence... which in my own mind... is indeed.... golden!

As I visit various blog sites... even some whose works I greatly admire, I have become increasingly aware of individuals beating themselves up... or berating their work as "skippers"... "unfinished symphonies"... et al. Others whine and complain... some even give up entirely. To them, I would offer that the creative process in truth is a journey... not a destination which can be arrived at on any predictable schedule... or by magic overnight success. Basing one's success upon the flow of greenbacks in one's direction is a huge mistake and offers little more than discouragement in return... especially in today's tough economy.

If I have anything to offer to fellow artists, it would be this short list of principles that I have tried to embrace and live by:

• Paint what you love most. 
• Always paint from within. 
• Trust your own good heart, for it knows the way. 
• Choose a dream to work towards... then live it.
• Risk failure. Failure is merely an opportunity to learn.
• Make room and time in your life for family and other interests outside of painting.
•  Be open and eager to integrate ideas from these external sources into your work.
• Avoid those who are unduly critical and negative in spirit. Better to travel alone.

Make a joyful noise... celebrate... SMILE!... and be happy because you choose to be so!

I send out this message to my blogging Friends who have encouraged my journey. Know that my own recent "quiet" in my own life and blog posting is merely what I have just described. I am busy with necessary non-art tasks like yard work... family... creating the new card designs for the printer... taking regular walks alone and sharing time with Deb... watching the birds and our magnificently beautiful River in front of us every day. Does that sound negative... desperate or discouraging to you? It is not... because I choose to feel otherwise! By the way.... during the carrying out of all of these above ideas... I have two new projects already in the works. Here is the "start" for the first one. HA HA!!!


Good Painting to ALL!!!

"Light"... cannot exist... except that one has experienced and fully understands "Darkness."

"Let there be Light....!"

Stay tuned!....