Lickety Split Gold

Monday. AGAIN. But for those of you who missed last night's gold medal relay by the American "Fab Four' watch it now. If you have any doubt, any hesitation about anything today, this effort by these four superbly trained and dedicated swimmers will dispel every last shred of it.

After many hours at my alternative office yesterday, I am spent. I waded through miles of work papers and journals. That studio notebook, if not in perfect shape is well on its way to being updated and restored. The files are roughly ready to work in light of the new series and direction, and the journals are marked a bit for some passages I sought. I have my 3 Most Important Tasks sorted out.

It wasn't all work. There was a steady flow of diversions. And yes once again the view was great. Uncanny that. They seed the field. More on that later this week. But all in all I am pleased. It isn't easy going back into everything, especially going straight to the heart of it. But that is exactly where I have to go.

And last night there they were. My touchstones for the week, if I even think of flagging in my efforts I can think of that relay in the Aqua Cube. Those four amazing guys and that Frenchman who talked that trash...hey Bernard, that was NOT the Marseillaise they played last night.

Have your picked your MIT's? Got a goal in mind, or someone you want to outdo? Here's what Lezak said about the French and the race: "They had talked a lot about it, and we would just rather do it in the pool," Lezak said.

Ready to jump into your personal pool and get it done? Brush take off those ridiculous goggles, the Speedo is bad enough. Yep. It is Organizing Monday. We're after a personal best.

Gentle Ripples in the Sand

Made by a constant breeze. That is the texture of this week for me. No great strides. No huge thrusts of activity. No drama. No brass band. Just gentle ripples in the sand made by a constant breeze. That is the pattern, the mark of my MIT's (Most Important Tasks). Steady, relentless movement toward my goal.

I can almost hear the gentle waves lapping at the shore, steady like a heartbeat. Maybe it is not ALL gone. Maybe it's still there.

I'll take those small ripples. Relish them in fact. Feel that breeze and soak up that gentle joy. Steady as a heartbeat. One step. Then another. Here we are again. Another bit closer and yes, certainly in the right direction to being whole again.

Time alone doesn't do it. It requires much, much more than that. This isn't easy. Don't be fooled. Each step is hard fought. But steps in the right direction. I have to be grateful for that.

I looked at pictures late last night of my island. Recent ones taken by a fisherman flying over it. Our footprints are not only washed away, the very ground is gone. The lighthouse is who knows where. It is gone too. I knew this already, of course, but it had been a while since I had had the courage to look again. And it, well, it was another stab at my heart last night. Not easy. But I also heard that underneath the waves, the sands are shifting and possibly rebuilding bit by bit. Hm. I can relate to that.

So gentle ripples in the sand made by a constant breeze and the currents offer up some hope. I know that's not a plan, but hope can be a friend. For now that has to do. Here we are on Friday. The photo is a soft sunset on an eastern shore. I just wanted to think of waves and gentle breezes on my face while I reflect on how good it feels to pull a pencil across some pristine white, and how wondrous certain shapes can be. That's all. Not very grand. But it's the world to me.

Good job this week, well done to me and to all of you. I'm sure we all can say, I did my best, I gave some more, I walked toward something I desire. Now let's all go be naughty. Come on Brush, you want to play in some ink?

Here this will help. I think she has the right idea.

Beginner's Mind

Collage papers.

Ink.

Textures.

Warm and cool.


"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities. In the expert's mind there are few."~Shunryu Suzuki

Childlike inquiry is a friend. So is random. I never want to be so stuck in a way of doing something that there is no freshness to my work. I have an island to paint. So I ask, "What is it?" I am playing with abstract. Textures, shapes, colors, identity in line and form. Scale, small, medium and large. Warm cool. Impact. Emotion. Memory. I have photographs. I have sketches. I have experience. I have technique. But, of course I want more.

I want to explore as if I had never seen it before. I have fine sketches and journal notes. I will roam and ramble, play with those as well. I have only to close my eyes and I am there again. But this island... what is it? What makes it stay in my heart? Why is it so important? What could it have to do with your life, too?

I am looking for timelessness in little bits of form. Something evocative. These nonsensical collages are in their first layer. There's lots, lots more to do. My childlike brain is loose on them to wander at it's will with scissors, glue, snips of this and that. Some ink, some pen, some pencil even. Newspaper. Things I have on hand.

After a bit. When I have said, "There, that is enough," I'll stop. Take a breath. Put them on the wall. Go away. Do something else. Then I will come back with fresh eyes, turn and take a look.

What do I hope to see?

My island's essence, as I see it, looking back at me. And lots of possibilities.

Watch the Watch

I am hypnotized by neutrals at the moment. The seashells in graphite grey. I am after timelessness. And I was doing market research. Okay, I was hanging out at the magazine section of Barnes and Noble on Sunday. Seriously, if we were in Africa it would be a watering hole.

What was I stalking? Males. Males with leisure time and discretionary income. My upper end clients are mostly these creatures with some alpha females here and there in the mix. They run companies, head institutions, work for themselves, heal the brain, import wine, advise presidents, and they write. They like original art and other very fine things.

I only had to wait in the Lifestyle section for a minute. Really. I saw something curious. A Robb report on watches. I had never seen so many magazines in one place on collecting watches. So I plucked that one from the bunch. And here, right beside me, total male at leisure going straight for the watches. And another. There was a cagey taller man lingering over by the business section, but he was well aware of the watch guys. They were casually dressed, but totally groomed for a Sunday. Was there a memo for this somewhere? They were everywhere.

I waited just a few seconds. Looked at the gorgeous photos. The male standing right next to me spoke in response to my quiet ooh (over the watches, ahem).

"Those will really set you back," he said.

" Yes, they will...but aren't they gorgeous?", I softly responded.

"They are that," he replied warmly.

I turned and gently smiled ( engaging the target in person is a subtle thing).
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?", I quietly asked.

"No, not at all," he said, his watch magazine tucked under his arm.

"Do you buy original art as well?", I asked him.

"Oh yes, I do as I can afford it," he replied.

We spoke for just a little while more. I said the thing about collecting is that it is about so much more than the object of our collection, no matter what that is. And he agreed. Fine things. We are drawn to them.

I left the men to their leisure habitat. But I watched for a time longer. One by one they came for boats, for watches, for tech or for cameras, some for Travel and Leisure. We were all stalking the object of our desire. It comes in many shapes. But satisfaction...is it in the object, or the hunt? They are both kind of fun.

Small Bits- Silk Paper

Elegance of concept. Sometimes it is what isn't there that creates desire. These are finely made papers, one of them is even called silk paper. It is tissue thin. The mottled one that has some taupe in it comes all the way from Asia. What you won't find there is acid. That's what will make them last. That there is no acid. The papers are pure.

Those are tiny bits of shell from the Island of Chandeleur. Tossed and tumbled by the waves, they landed in the sand. Miles and miles from anywhere. What you won't find there is man, just nature on it's own.

I am working on a series of drawings. Just different almost random arrangements of a few shells gathered on Chandeleur. The drawings will be uncluttered, clean. I would like for them to whisper, but whisper eloquently in their tossed and tumbled bits. I want a quiet poetry, no shouting, no not here. I would like there to be room to hear the waves, and feel the breeze between...

I would like to leave room for both of us to dream.


( Note from the artist: There will be probably 24 of these drawings, some of which will be offered for sale only here. If you would like to be put on the list for first option to buy, email me with your contact information. When the offering is made you all will get first choice. You are under no obligation to purchase just for being on this list, but you will get first look. A preview offering. )

Out of Chaos Comes OM

Yesterday, when I was working at my alternative office which some people call the cafe at Barnes and Noble, I noticed a pattern on one of my calendars. I use iCal and have a printout one month at a time. It's color coded. This was the calendar that is supposed to be my editorial calendar. Sonia Simone told me about them from the Liz Srauss SOBCon she attended in Chicago this past spring. I thought editorial calendars were a pretty nifty idea.

I say supposed to be my editorial calendar because June and July were mostly done after the fact. Yesterday my cafe, er, office time, was totally about getting a grip on using this calendar in advance instead of using it to track what I had done. I had a couple other tasks I wanted to accomplish too. Big ones that I had been putting off. So I packed a location bag. I would not leave until I had finished everything in the bag. Yes, of course I over packed. Doesn't everyone?

I was hoping a change of scenery would be just the thing to help me get it all done. Of course I was there to pick up a few necessities. And yes, of course there were some necessities I did not even know I needed until I saw them. So I gathered the goodies, walked quickly past the new releases. Here to work, here to work. And found a table by the window. I ate my strata and sipped at my latte. Did some people watching.

Okay, enough. Dive into that bag. Get to it, one task at a time. Dave Allen's 2 minutes were handy in handling the loose papers. The labeled files ( also Dave ) gladly accepted my first sort of papers into topics. My handy dandy high-lighter made the sort even easier, ooh rich stuff on some pages. Sort, sort, sort. Don't write, just sort. Highlight to come back to the good stuff. Before I knew it the loose ends were no longer loose. Next the content notebook. It wasn't as functional as I wanted it to be. Some looking, some thinking. Ahh, now a guide is made. This is going great. Had not touched the calendar yet. Sip. Sip.

Okay. Get it out of its file. More looking. More thinking. Sip. Oh look at that woman, she actually reminds me of a flamingo. Sip. Hm. Nice Spanish acoustic guitar music playing, reminds me of some really good times with....THE CALENDAR, helloooo, focus here.

I made a deal with myself. I would just put down the things I was sure of so far. It would be okay to have some blank spaces. Hm. Okay. So I made a few notes on the parts I did know. Made some theme notes on the top and bottom for a general guideline for the month of August. I looked at Fridays. Wrote something in. As I sipped and worked, I noticed something. The tension in my shoulders was leaving. The chaos that was before, if not actually dealt with, was in it's place, neatly tucked into it's slot, or file; the content notebook was looking good. And here on my color coded calendar a message appeared:

OM, OM, OM, OM.

On each and every Monday I had written it at the top of the little box. And now here it was staring back at me like a meditation. Om....Organizing Monday. I smiled. That was nothing new. But seeing it like that, OM and repeated, laid out on my self designed, color coded calendar, it looked like something bigger. A regular appointment with myself. And there the reassurance. 3, only 3 at a time. 3 most important things to accomplish each week ( or on a day) is a steady relentless march toward my goals. It's also a time to center. A time to breathe. Be clear. Take note. And that is no small thing.

Imperfect. Imperfect is fine. I left blanks, some room on my editorial calendar. But I smiled. Assured. Happy even, because of OM. I left some things undone yesterday. I had over packed. Was forcing all the issues. Most important tasks this week? Well, you can make your own. But one of mine it is to relax and get only 3 big important things done. After I had packed the work away, put it back into my bag, calendar included, I pulled out my journal. Ideas and writing just flowed. Small steps in the RIGHT direction make all the difference in the world. OM. Yep , it's Organizing Monday. What's up for you this week?

Time To Just Paint

I need to take a full studio day today. So I will give you this walk on the beach at sunset to ease you into what I hope will be a lovely weekend for you all. If you let yourself, you might be able to feel the day warmed sand caress your feet and hear the roll of the surf cleansing off the week. There is even a gentle breeze. Ahhh. Breathe.

There. Doesn't that feel good? C'mon Brush. Shh. Let's leave them to it. We have La Vie Dansante to explore.

The hokey music? Sure.



That's what we'll be humming as we paint. Now go be Naughty yourself.