Past time

Paintings about hands, bones, change, choice, birth and death, white and black

the elf thing

I always get inspired to make something for the holidays- and I work like mad on prototypes, mix media, and then, as I hand out the gifts just days before the holidays, I am struck by how meager the offering actually is. Is it cheap of the soul to make chachkis for your friends?
I don't know, but, as always there is a pattern here, and I'm heading to the mall!


(making missile toe for gifts)

Money Obsession and current woes

The peasant woman in Breugal's harvest painting

Steps to forgive

I think I've stopped dissolving. My painting has gone through as many transformations as my flighty horoscope-gemini-mood-moon-calendar! First I was too illustrative, then unbearably dark and shadowy. A frustrated brainless attack left the paintings a surface victim. Now, after today, I find the line and color are resolving themselves. In my own life I am starting to feel less the protagonist in a dramatic short story, not as much in the guilt ridden shadows, and actually, eventually, more substantial and brilliant. It took measures such as confessional tea dates with very patient girlfriends, driving across states to help a bigger cause, spending time rooted with siblings, working the gratitude list, crying salty oceans, and telling myself over and over that I forgive me. I forgive me. I didn't do it perfectly, but I can believe in more joy.

She's starting to get her form back!

For a while she was dissolving... I am so relieved to see her quietly emerge. I think this painting has a brighter future.

bleeding heart and shadow

Tried to take her down into the shadows....

the beginings of a bleeding heart

Evolution of a portrait

I did a brave and appalling thing yesterday by trying to paint myself half undressed, at my age! Lately I have been reviewing my work and coincidentally mounting a mini-retrospective at a local venue. Surprising myself,it seems as though I have been painting nests in various media and with various symbolism for YEARS, decades... So it is time to really look, to really see what I am trying to say. Is there a way to say it clearly enough so that I can move beyond the repetitive nest? How raw is the experience? I feel as though there is a spiritual message I have constantly failed to properly convey. I feel humbled. I feel I have to get back to the studio...

Here are some stages and details to yesterday's experience.

I admire Alice Neel for being able, at age 84, to look starkly, and artistically at herself and celebrate the inner soul. Her painting is at the National Portrait gallery in Washington DC.

This is 18 x 12 inches, acrylic paint and map collage on birch luan panel

Marriage in retrospect: Juggling act

Moving through the storage I have flipped through stacks of paintings made over the years and found most of them to be reflecting aspects of my marriage. While my mind and heart seem to conflict on this one, and my spouse and I trade insanely different memories of the same moments, my artwork has definitely captured some truth to where I stand. I think I will post a few of them.

This one was called My Marriage is a Juggling Act... and yet... I wonder about the ominous fish in the waters and the ability of my man to catch me. With the way my hair is painted I feel as though I am actually being thrown up into the space rather than down into his hands.

divine twist, or Blonde Woman in Denial with Headline

9 x 9 inches

Wow- this is a recurring theme in my family. There have been some major individual successes for those who chose to try to overcome the odds and make a new start (everyday). Unfortunately we all suffer and have to work at our own part in the dynamics of the family. My greatest fear is for my sons, so I talk to them about it all the time... but there are no guarantees.

A Reach of arms, with car in flight

and maps.
9 X 9 INCHES
This started out as an idea for "surrender"...
I think there was a whole decade where my Volvo transported me and the boys to every dreamed destination. The car symbolized the height of my soccer-mom status. (Now I have a convertible that squishes the boys knees and barely holds the lacrosse gear.)
This painting could be called "Reach and Release".