Trying A New Scent

For the past two or three days two words have woken me up. Connections and continuity. I would have gotten up and written them down then, all kinds of brilliant thoughts accompanied the words, but it was our first chilly morning here and the down comforter was more convincing in its arguments for no. Not just yet. It was still way way dark outside. In fact, yes, one of those 2am calls again. Brr, Dark and cold. Yet the thoughts lingered. Eventually I fell back asleep. Seemed innocuous enough. Nothing earth shattering, startling or new. I snoozed.

This morning was even chillier. The words came back. The comforter comforted. I slid further into my pillow, but I listened a little closer. Hm. Nothing remotely dramatic. Just glimmers wrapped in down. I do have a small rule about these things. If something presents itself to me repeatedly, it's probably something I should pay attention to. (See Nabakov) Hm. As I typed his name a virtual whoosh made me pause once again. Aha. Possibly one of those moments.

I came into this day listening for further clues. Longing for the paint. It is raining gently and I am wearing all black. Cozy, warm. Almost purring like a cat. Hm. Look, a new sample of scent. I smiled, "Notorious." And there's my current journal. A slight curve lifted the right side of my lips. No, we can't go there, or can we? Connections and continuity. I peeled the scented paper back and rubbed it on my wrists, my neck. Yum. I like it very much. I looked again at the photo of the scent. Tilted my head just a bit. Looked back to my journal. Thinking.

Well, what do you know, I thought. Maybe it IS possible to let a little out. Hm, maybe, as I sit here with my tea, just maybe... Oh, I'll organize. It's Monday after all, but this scent is growing on me. Hm, let's see... that night long ago at the Columns... or the weekend in Dripping Springs... Connections and continuity. Have I locked up way too much? I am so smiling.

Yep, Organizing Monday. No one said it couldn't be fun.

Laughing Buddha Naughty Friday

I still can't get this little guy to answer any questions, but he smiles encouragingly ALL the time. Or is he mocking me? I had to laugh a few minutes ago when I glanced over and noticed he was perched on top of my fancy paper clips. I am at my desk today, shifting some content around, centering after a very uncomfortable and hectic week. So the music is on softly, some Carly Simon I got as a gift. A Starbucks purchase I think. I lit a favorite candle, it's kind of like sitting by a fire. Old tricks for focus I used in my studio. Creates a hearth of sorts.

Ideas are bubbling up again. Works in progress are shifting. And I have some odd images that keep making their way into my brain. Totally a next generation. Some of these will shift and sort, some of them will fade. Some of them will be real solid pursuits. But they all clamour for my attention. They tend to appear, like characters in a novel.

And that's a funny thing. The novel. I am not blazing any trails there in word count, but people and events just appear as I type. I write a little each day, in scenes. And I am intrigued. The two kinds of creativity are talking to each other. Some visual questions I had put to myself are just appearing too. Some with answers. Some with, uh, uh, not yets.

So out comes Little Laughing Buddha, and the candle, and some quiet time for capture.

And since it's Naughty Friday, I wonder, perhaps a naughty scene?...huh, Buddha...no, still nothing. But he's smiling.

Peace of an Island

Sometimes, as in this week, I want the peace of an island. It doesn't have to be a barrier island, or a tropical one. It doesn't even have to be a land mass. But it does have a few requirements. A view. It has to have a view. And quiet. And fresh foods and the possibility of a refreshing walk. Sound dull, boring? Not to me.

One of my best friends and I laugh that my beach house (the one I would like to build) will have a moat. And the bridge will only let down for a few select people. Yes, I have all the makings of an artistic hermit. I should probably develop a few eccentricities to go with that.

But behind that moat it is sybaritic (ooh big word, I must still have a little sanity left). Behind that moat is spa and magically delivered meats from Niman Ranch, fresh foods from a green grocer, and lovely concoctions to sip by the fire. If it it snows we don't care. Rain. Nope not a problem. I have boots. No, as long as the internet connection is intact, I 'm good. I have something great to read, and paper. Some pens. Some paints. There I can sit, I can dream, I can draw. By the fire, as it burns softly and sparks crinkle and snap in the air.

Oops, there's a knock at the door. It is either that cabana boy I ordered, or an interruption to this dream.

Please tell me about your islands. You know you have one. Where do you go to retreat?

A Rising Tide Lifts All Boats

I would like to congratulate our new President Elect. Not my candidate, but nevertheless a man I can respect and wish well. Two more gracious candidates, I can't recall. Honor was the theme of my candidate's concession speech. Hope and willingness to do what needs to be done, the theme of the winner's. Historic is the understatement, no matter how this came out. The bridge between them is not a long one, but one that we must all be willing to cross. Because a rising tide lifts all boats. And that my friends is not a bad thing at all.

So here, here is a painting of mine called 'Big Chief" to send out my best wishes. I look forward to seeing what we all can do. And hey, the girls get a puppy to take with them to the White House. How fun is that? Now if we could just get a civil media....Nah, that would be asking too much. Have you noticed already they have been saying that the promise is impossible to fill? Bah, I say to them.

"Managing Expectations"

Hm. Did you ever hear a couple of words that kind of stopped you in your tracks, made you think, gave you one of those ah ha moments? I did. Yesterday. On the phone. With someone whose opinion I respect. We were talking about an important design project, but these two words, common business terms I expect to him, gave me pause:"Managing expectations. "

Apparently, somewhere between enthusiasm and reality is a sweet spot of reasonable expectations in business and media (his background). This is a pragmatic and practical man. Oh, he has his flaws, but that is a different story. When it comes to certain areas of my life, I trust him above all others.

Hm. I create. So I know that it IS possible to make a lot of things real, out of practically nothing. That's what I do. I realize ideas, turn 'em into something tangible. Or I capture something out there that exists and say, hey take a sec, look at this. I see possibilities, potentials, connections, everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Yeah, gets kind of noisy and distracting if I let it. So selection is important. Dialing back is part of the job. Letting go another. Leaping faithfully another.

So why did his words speak to me yesterday?

Sometimes, okay a lot of times, I expect a lot. Especially from myself. So those two words from this one person, who knows me so well, have made me think. Hm. Sometimes we are toughest on ourselves. And sometimes a cigar IS just a cigar.

I have been trying to get over my own self by going right toward my weaknesses and bringing them into some kind of presentable shape and I am kicking things up a notch in other areas. Moving on. Pushing, digging, going right toward the difficult parts to get to the other side. And I am expecting a lot from every day. A lot. Because I want restoration. Total. Total integration and magnificent restoration to something even better. There. I have said it.

It's hard. Restoration. Probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. And I am one hot mess of nerves at the moment. Phew, I said it. I am one hot mess of nerves. Not all bad ones, but enough to be on edge. And that affects my work. It's part of process too. I have some good projects going on. Some I am excited about. But I realize, wow, my expectations are way up there. I said to him, my media man, "I wish everything weren't so important to me. I wish it did not matter so much." His voice was reassuring, confident. Right on task. And in two words reminded me about myself and the projects at hand.

I look at that pan of color up in the photo, and I see an oasis, the sirens of my work. Colors. Pure possibility of flow. I also see things and events that I really don't want to see. But they are there. Real. No you can't see them. But what I paint lives, it breathes and all that was or is to be carried on is there too. I am invested, fully invested in the what behind what I paint. I am trying very hard to paint right past the ghosts. And to find something local, something not fraught, not so difficult. And I am trying very hard not to be so very hard on myself, but also to keep that standard held right up there, high. So the sweet spot, that sweet spot of reasonable expectations. I am looking for that today. Want to bet, I 'll be painting a bit of my island?

Thanks media man. Walls...we just push on through.

Brush, I hope this made some sense. Augh, Brush just held my hand. Come on buddy. Let's just go play with color.

Art By Committee

At this very moment, my editorial staff is undecided on what should actually be the 3 Most Important Tasks this week. I think it is a sugar hangover from all that trick or treating this past weekend and the parties...and that time change. And I am thinking while they wrestle over the concept, I will just do a Dave Allen today and start with the first thing , then the second, then the next and so on until that pile on my desk is reduced to a memory. Never mind my inbox. Sheesh. Working on it.

By the time I reach the real surface to the desk, a clear order will also appear. Yep, another one of those not quite my routine weekends has just passed. Better though, I actually got through some of the newspaper. And I got some new market research info for Dallas, some leads, mingled a bit. So I need to hit that desk hard this morning before I can get to the painting. And the staff is needing more tea. They were planning a field trip for Friday last time I popped in. Tut is in town you know.

So art is by committee this week....demands are in many directions, other people involved. But my core tasks, those will fall right into place, just as soon as I clear some space. No, Brush, do NOT give staff donuts. Get them through the agenda and put them back on the shelf. Wind them up again and we'll never get done.

How do you manage that committee in your head? Get it all put into form. I need quiet, do you?

Naughty Friday Chocolate Truffles

The Godiva painting is 95% done. Just some adjustments to make in a few of these places, some crucial bits of detail to be finished. Phew! But I am liking it. At the later stages of a piece, sometimes it is a small stroke here, one there, and lots of hands off to make it all come together. We'll see the finished piece with that last and crucial 5% completed next week, but I wanted to send you off to your weekend with some golden delicious goodies.

Bon bons for all of you, you deserve them. Happy Halloween.