Well, the 40th annual Mount Dora Festival of the Arts is almost here!
It's my first time in this show, and I was thrilled to be accepted to such a great show with the added bonus of getting to sleep in my own bed every night. (Woot, woot!)
Along with several other exhibiting artists, I will be attending the kick-off party graciously hosted by the Mount Dora branch of United Southern Bank.
In the area? You're invited. Will I wear a dress? Will I wear pants? Comb my hair?Will I be extremely socially awkward when asked normal questions yet gregarious about random non-sequiturs? Enough about me. Tell me how you feel about the #likeagirl backlash.
If you're not around for the preview party, that's just fine, too.
I'll be in booth A -16 Saturday & Sunday Feb 7th & 8th from 10am-5pm both days
exhibiting original watercolor paintings and a few select limited edition prints.
This might be my only outdoor fine art show of the spring season, so swing by and say hello.
Last week I kept seeing Cardinals everywhere. He was on the trail everyday when I ran.
He showed up in my yard. It was one of those things where I knew it wasn’t going to stop until I painted him.
I’m really glad I did. I needed him to remind me.
There is somuch I could write on the cardinal, but I'll save a few tidbits for the next painting he graces. ( I know he's not done with me.) Cardinals hold significance on many levels for me. I was born a Buckeye, so these fierce little songbirds will always hold a place in my “heart of it all”. (Along with Ohio, the cardinal was also named state bird of Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina, Virginia, and West Virginia.) They are gorgeous birds with a song that truly does sound like “cheer”. Seriously, youtube it. It’s even more special to me that the reddish brown and gray females of this species, while not as bright and bold in color, actually do sing. This puts a damper on the former theories that birdsong was only a male trait for sexual selection. For me, it’s a great metaphor for women everywhere. We have a voice, and it’s not all about mating. Sing on, sister! Although cardinals do mate for life, which leads to this next interesting fact- Male cardinals actually lose some of their brilliant crimson color while helping to rear nestlings. They are great parents that fiercely protect the nest. Dad birds. What?! I know, right?
But when they aren’t being awesome bird fathers, they are territorial and aggressive. They are known for fighting with other crimson cards, including those they see reflected in glass.
Warriors, indeed. Cardinals can also be a warning symbol of aggressive vanity that might be holding us back.
It’s easy to see why the male cardinal’s fiery crimson plumage always captures our attention, especially on those bleak winter days. But there really is so much about these birds that brings me awe and peace, it’s no wonder that the final and most important symbol of a cardinal is that of an esoteric nature.
Many say that seeing a cardinal is representative of a visit from a loved one that has passed.
All of us live our daily lives with a certain amount of heartache for those we have lost.
Some days can be a proverbial blizzard. The forest is whipped with icy winds, the snow is blinding, our feet and hands are numb, and the tears freeze on our eyelashes. It makes it hard to see the path let alone keep on walking.
Then a brilliant flash of red reminds us it won’t be winter forever. The sun will shine. The snow will melt. The wind will subside. A song of Cheer.
I titled this painting Cardinal Direction with that in mind.
When we are mindful, seeing these birds can influence how we direct our steps and our thoughts afterward, even through the bitter cold winds. Thank you, Cardinal.
Do you have a cardinal story?
I'd love to hear it. Please, leave a comment or Contact me. :)
The holiday shipping season is here, and it can get a tad bit crazy.
As someone that ships artwork across the country, I always ask collectors to let me know when they receive their packages. I usually have the tracking info, but it's just easier to send a quick email, text, tweet, Facebook, or Etsy message. (And that way we don't have to enter irritatingly long tracking #s.)
This week I sent my art babies out to new homes, from the chilly shores of Lake Michigan to the arid deserts of the west. Yesterday, I received a couple of confirmation messages that reaffirmed why I've chosen a path less traveled. (A path that is void of the proverbial steady paycheck or time I'm ever truly "out of the office".)
First, I got a hilarious message that made me laugh when I skimmed it while eating lunch out with a friend. (She was on her phone, too. I wasn't being totally rude.)
To my "inside nudist" collector,
I appreciate that you wanted to take a photo of yourself with my art but decided against it. I probably would have had a ton of hits with that photo. Maybe next time you add a piece to your collection? ;)
On the naps, high five and take one for me. You deserve them. On your workouts, kudos and keep kicking ass. I've heard that dancing and jumping without a bra is actually really good for your breasts. So if you decide to ditch the underoos, maybe you could combine your clothes free zone with Zumba in your living room? I think a few minutes would do, as it might be a little uncomfortable. I'm going to go ahead and just recommend frequent massage for breast health. Your partner should be up to the task.
Thank you, B.K. You're a colorful gem, and that artwork suits you brilliantly.
Sometime I like to paint fun, playful images to celebrate fun, playful people. I'm so glad to have you in my colorful world.
Next up was the kind of message that really makes the rough patches worth it.
"I received the painting and I am speechless!! I about burst into tears. Not being dramatic, I really did. I love this... You are a treasure, Renee. I am so glad we crossed paths."
-Rebecca
I'll always have to create some kind of art to keep (a portion of) my sanity, but it's connection of that sort that makes my work meaningful. I know that collector will forever have a space for that emotion, for whatever memory or story it is that moves her within that painting, upon her wall. I might have created the painting, but whatever she shares with it, is hers. She can look at it and revisit that place any time she pleases, every single day. I helped make that happen, and we're always connected through it. That's awesome.
Just this morning I checked my Facebook to see that the same collector and another deep collector had shared my art page. Just a couple of days before, an actress in the Florida arts scene shared my art, (I have to say I squeal with delight every time I see your gorgeous face on my TV, JB, and I'm so excited to paint this piece for you!) so I was feeling the love. I know they seem like very small things, but they are kind of like the internet equivalent to hugs, and I like good hugs.
Ah, the interwebs. The internet is crazy. It is a big place. It is easy to get lost. It is easy to get overwhelmed. It is easy to get frustrated and want to give up. In the mean time, I'll be grateful for the dumb luck I've had and keep working.
Early this morning, I saw that my second highest traffic source to my Etsy shop was from Google France for my handwritten calligram portraits, to the example piece I did for a London firm for Day of the Girl in 2012. I have no ideas why, mind you. Looking at the stats is the extent of my internet savvy.
I can hope that maybe one day, I'll get a shipment receipt message, en Francais, that is as heartfelt and fun as yesterday's were.
This is a letter to the one who feels their garden will never bloom.
It won't be written well, or in proper syntax.
There comes a time when none of that matters.
To the dreamer that is tired of the never ending chase,
To the heart that's heavy, and the soul that's crushed by the weight of rejection,
There comes a time when the only thing that matters is putting one foot in front of the other.
One seed at a time.
The vision of your garden is yours, because only you were meant to have it.
It's grand, unique, complex, and nourishing.
Cultivating it is going to be a cumbersome task, my friend.
To the fingers worked into bloody, gnarled claws,
there will be months,
there may be years, where the only reign is silence and the only growth is doubt.
The urge to wallow in the muddy rows will be great.
As long as you make friends with the earth worm, this is fine.
Pay attention to those creatures closest to you while you toil.
They are more important to your blooms than you realize.
Some will help, some will harm.
Do away with the aphids and get yourself some ladybugs.
Then, dust off your hands and get back to work.
Weed.
Fertilize.
Sow.
The silence will try to stiffen you. You must not let this happen. You must sing.
You must dance. You must write. You must act. You must paint. You must, you must, you must,
you must, sow.
Every single creation is a seed.
It is a prayer.
It contains life.
It will give life to another.
Every unanswered prayer is still echoing.
It will sing for years to come.
It will find its ears.
Keep sowing.
It's baaaaaaaaack! The
first day of fall is upon us, and I'm all in. The sublime scent of
pumpkin harvest wax tarts are wafting through my house. I'm slathered in
fall scented lotion. The decorations and violet and orange lights are
coming out after my art show this weekend. It might still be in the
upper 80s here, but I'm making my own autumn, damn it. Naysayers have even posted things like this gem from Cheezburger.
I don't care. I'm wearing yoga pants, I love fall, and I'm about to tell you why. I know some people are sick of the pumpkin craze. From lattes to potato chips, food manufacturers are cashing in on the fall trends. But let me tell you it's not a trend, it's a way of life. If heaven is whatever we love the most, my afterlife will be set amongst brilliant fall foliage and crisp autumn smells.
I know I'm not alone. According to several polls, at least one quarter of Americans say autumn is their favorite season. Why? Like I mentioned above, there's the color, smells, food, the list is long.
But all of the other seasons have their own distinct qualities in those categories. Why is fall such a celebrated season? I decided to look a little deeper and figure out why fall has such an emotional pull on me. I'll start with temperature and it all really unfolds from there. In most parts of the country, fall is the beginning of cooler weather. There have been a few psychology studies that conclude human happiness is maximized at around 57 degrees Fahrenheit. It may sound chilly to some, but doesn't that sound like a perfect temperature to don your favorite hoodie and hiking boots and go stomping about in piles of crunchy leaves. I'm sure you've all heard of "hoodie weather". It's amazing. It is my favorite and always has been.
As a school age child, I walked to and from school every day.
(What is it with current school pick-up "car lines" and why are they so insanely long?) Those walks home from school during September and October in the chilly Midwestern air were always the best part of my day.
Sometimes I pulled my jacket tighter and found a sunny spot to sit and enjoy my latest library book (another smell I wish they could manufacture) or simply stare at clouds in the sky. There's something about the cerulean blue of an autumn sky. I've painted them, but it's just never the same.
If it was raining, I would hurry home on the glistening street littered
with gold and crimson leaves. I usually walked into a house full of
cooking (comfort food) smells and curled up on the warm couch to finish my
book. Here in Florida, I get about 3 or 4 hoodie days a year. If I want to read outside, my book's pages sadly wilt in the humidity and the smell of sweat and sunscreen overpower any possible book aroma. Sure, I don't have to shovel snow, but wearing shorts year round is tiresome. There's just nowhere to hide that extra piece of pumpkin spice roll. Hoodies, my friend, are perfect for that. Autumn in the heartland was a time for traditions. A time to slow down and turn inward, yet build new relationships, projects, and anticipate change. There were a myriad of fall activities for which I have fond memories; football and soccer games, harvest festivals, raking leaves, hay rides, Halloween, trick-or-treating, ghost stories, corn mazes, apple picking, my birthday, Thanksgiving, I could go on and on and on. There are many more personal reasons, too.
I won't divulge all those, but I can't recall an autumn in my formative years that wasn't exciting yet serene. The bottom line is memory. Another cool thing about our brains is the way our physical senses are inventoried and cataloged while they are forming memories. Colors, temperatures, tastes, sounds and textures are all accounted for, but our olfactory sense is the strongest when our brains write and archive our memories.
While other sensory information could be searched for retrieval, smells are like a shortcut into that specific memory file. A smell trigger can actually bypass cognition and retrieve memories and emotions associated with that smell. (If you're into neuroscience, you might like this article that explains brain activity during this process.) I don't have those rejuvenating autumns anymore. Life in Florida is very different. The temperatures here won't dip for several more months, and even then it's only for a couple of hours. A hoodie in the morning is quickly shed in the Florida sun. I'll be busy with art shows and I won't be reading enough for pleasure. I may not have the autumnal respite I remember so fondly, but I will try to boost my mood and cultivate that fall feeling with decorations and smells. I'll cook pumpkin soup and drink hot cider even though I'm in a sundress. I'll hang a cinnamon broom and listen to spooky stories on podcast while I paint.
I'm buying all the fall flavors. I'm tricking my brain into remembering parts of me and my life that are sacred. So, the next time you sigh at the smell of some harvesty candle, ask yourself why. Thanks for reading, but I have to go. It just started pouring rain and I need to turn on the kettle. Harney & Sons Pumpkin Spice tea is delicious. It goes great with a heaping tablespoon of this manna on toast.
I always have a few test pieces of cold press or Yupo on my work desk.
I use them to test out my palette and see how textures and mediums will look before officially committing them to the painting. (Watercolor is not very forgiving.)
Every now and then, one of these colorful sheets really speaks to me. Forms and shapes whisper to me from the watermarks. I pick up a pen and their stories begin to unfold.
This particular sheet held a harrowing narrative. I won't divulge the entire tale, but this piece certainly sings of the trappings of society, risk, and compassion.
I'm not usually one to brag on kids, because, you know, ummm, I don't have any human children of my own and to be quite frank, I don't really care about normal human milestones.
Most humans learn to go potty. (My dog is really great at that, too.)
Most humans learn to speak, walk, give kisses, ride a bike, etc. (My dog is absolutely terrible at riding a bike.) It's really just the things that I personally value from fellow humans that turn my head as far as development.
That being said, I do have a nephew that is hilariously witty (see above), artistically talented, (see above and below) and generally more interesting than most adults I come across.
I won't bore you with all of the Brayden Bragfest second hand anecdotes that sing of his cuteness, uniqueness, and wit.
But I don't think you can argue that his "Most Artistic" certificate from Kindergarten wasn't totally merited.
I mean seriously, how many kindergarteners do you know that have a grasp on the dynamic figure and foreshortening like this?
Brayden, completed at age 5.
As a first grader, he now wants to be an Army tanker. (His mom is a corpsman in the U.S. Navy.)
Who knows what he will do when he grows up, but I bet his doodles will be awesome. This kid is definitely getting professional grade art supplies and vintage comics from Aunt Née for Christmas.
If you know me or are fairly familiar with my art, you know I love animals, especially dogs.
All dogs are great. Allow me to explain and get Seuss-esque for only a moment;
Fluffy or sleek, loud or meek,
Agile and spry, or just happy to lie,
I love dogs, the great and the small.
I love the dogs, I do love them all.
Yes, breeds A to Z, their pups I adore,
Except that I love,
Small ones a bit more.
WAIT! Don't get me wrong, and don't sic your Staffie on me. I've loved my fair share of medium and large dogs. My first dog was a chow chow and my 2nd, 3rd, and 4th were Aussie mixes. (Super smart and loving dogs!) Neapolitan Mastiffs simply melt my butter. If we ever live in a colder climate and have the acreage, Husboo will certainly be in search of a Russian Caucasian before we unpack. I'm also in love with Irish Wolfhounds. But when you've had the experience of being rescued by a teeny tiny canine and her becoming your companion, it's hard not to project those same feelings onto similar sized pups.
I may like small dogs, but guess what;
I hate painting small.
For my second September painting (I'm not even going to say it's the 2nd of 30, because that's just insane) I attempted my first teeny tiny watercolor portrait.
For me, watercolor is so nice because it flows and has a mind of it's own. You think you know what will happen, then the paint laughs in your face and you either readjust or go with the flow and see where it takes the painting. This aspect of the medium is also what can be ultra annoying if you have a specific end in mind. Couple that with a 5"x7" portrait on aquabord and quite a bit of strife can ensue. By no means was this a fast, whip it out in under an hour, quickie painting.
I struggled to retain a wet-on-wet technique and still have the detail I wanted for this piece.
(A couple of paper towels were harmed in the making of this painting.)
I have a new found respect for the daily painters that crank out small works all the live long.
It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of fight in the dog. And this one gave me a pretty good round, now to give him a name...
September is upon us and another challenge has been posed. However, this month is pretty busy for me. I have a few prior commitments, so I don't think I can realistically crank out 30 paintings and get anything else done. (One painting usually takes me 2-7 non-consecutive days to complete.)
I've been a bit anxious lately with all I have to get done. Most of those things are self-imposed, but sometimes that's even more pressure. I'm resolving to at least try to post weekly (and daily if I'm lucky) the smaller paintings I do finish, here on my blog. Yesterday was a somewhat stressful, worrisome, and overall blah day. I took a walk to clear my mind and look to nature for some respite. I set the intention to see something that would bring me clarity and peace.
As soon as I rounded the corner, I saw an unbelievable sight. Several dozen sparrows were flying around a churchyard field. They were diving, soaring, and circling at a frenetic pace. In awe, I stopped to watch them for a bit. By the time I realized I really needed to take a photo of the birds, they were flying away. This painting is inspired by that brief and beautiful encounter. It had an unexpectedly profound effect on me. Sparrows are a symbol for many things, among them freedom, creativity, and Love. It was just the lift I needed.
Birds of the Aircheered me. Marvin Gaye cheers me, too. I'll leave you with this Marvin version of a sparrow themed song. An oldie, but a goodie. Fly high, my friends. ~D. Renée
(This is the second installment of the Gratitude Game 8/14. To see the origin and 1st part, click here.)
Day 5- Sisters. Namely, my amazing sister, Ashley. She really deserves her own entry. (Noted.)
Ashley is a woman that faces many challenges yet is always up for fun whether it's adventure or simply relaxin'. She was born with cerebral palsy, including intellectual and developmental disabilities. The photo above was from our day at Disney a couple of weeks ago. ( I'm also extremely grateful to Shawn Sullivan of the New York Film Academy. His generosity is the reason Ashley and I got to have a truly magical day at Disney.)
My sister is one of my best friends, and I'm such a lucky girl to have her in my life.
Mothers. Specifically, mine. She's one of the most caring people I've ever met, she's virtually a saint. She's incredibly intelligent, gorgeous, and loads of fun. She's bent over backwards for me and continues to do so, even when I totally don't deserve it. She's also a voice of reason when I need it most. Best. Mom. Ever.
Beasties. I love animals of all kinds, especially the rescue pups. (We all know who really rescues who.) My best beastie, Muffie, taught me more about life in the past 4 years than I could have ever learned from a human. She lived to be 14, and she passed last year. Because of her, I have a heart for the old, toothless, insecure and prickly mongrels no one else seems to want. My life is now filled with compassion and joy daily because of the extremely weird, insanely territorial, special needs Maltese, Sugar Cube Wilson-Hamel.
Day 6- Music- I simply could not function without music. It has always been a part of me and how I process life and its trials. One very influential and highly therapeutic artist for me has been Tori Amos. (A friend calls that Toripy.) A fan over 20 years, now, Tori's music has been an important part of my journey as a girl and woman. Growing up and older with an artist is amazing.
Painting- Obviously, art is an integral part of me. I enjoy theatre, film, and literature immensely. However, no other medium nourishes me like painting. Whether I'm creating a representational portrait as a commission, or simply playfully pushing paint in experimental pools, painting provides both a release and an energizing element that no other discipline can.
I am very grateful that I am primarily an artist and am able to live as such.
Social Media-I know all of us have our grievances concerning social media sites like Facebook, but I am actually very thankful for them. They provide a way for me to stay in touch with friends and family far away. I live in a semi-rural setting now, and I often don't physically speak to anyone other than my husband on some days. These sites not only allow me to share my art and find new collectors I wouldn't meet otherwise. They also allow me to find like-minded people; my tribe.
The "fans" on my Facebook art page and Instagram are supportive and encouraging friends even if I never see them IRL. This leads me to my next day of gratitude.
Day 7- Kindness & generosity. As I stated above, my social media friends are a source of support and networking. I posted my "Maybe I'm a Mermaid" painting (title inspired by Silent All These Years)
on my Facebook page wishing Tori Amos a happy 51st birthday. I mentioned that I also wished I could be at her show and asked (jokingly) if anyone had an extra ticket.
One of the "Likers" on my page commented that she did havetwoextra tickets to the concert. She gave them to me. If that doesn't make me a lucky girl, I don't know what does.
The concert was amazing. I can't even.
Friends (IRL).
My husband is awesome for many reasons. His love for Tori would not be one of those reasons as it, sadly, does not exist. He did want me to go and to go with someone that would enjoy the concert as much, or closer to as much, as I would.
This is where friends come in. I took my friend Nicole as my Tori date. I met Nicole at an art festival last year. She came into my booth and we just kind of hit it off. We don't get to hang out as often as we'd like, but since most of my friends live in other states, it's really nice to have a local friend that likes the unconventional things I do. Because, ya know, it's just really nice to be able to sit next to someone as I cry during Hey Jupiter and know she's not judging me, she might be crying, too.
Transformation through gratitude.
Nicole was actually the friend that invited me to play the gratitude game last week. I'm very grateful for that. Even though I was keeping a gratitude journal before, I really think that putting a fresh spin on it by playing a game, along with others, helped me to raise my awareness and frequency to a new level. My painting, Butterfly Fuchsia, was inspired by all of the beauty I see everyday. The act of creating from that place of gratitude is powerful. That painting got more likes and engagement in a short period than is typical on my page. It might just be "pretty", but I think people can sense the energy of a piece of art's origin.
It's also kind of amazing that on my final day of the exercise, I got to take my friend Nicole to a free, spectacular, poignant performance of one of our favorite artists.
Guess we really are lucky. What do you think?
I often come across tortoiseson my daily trail route, but this guy made me stop and rest for a bit. It's not the most exciting trail sighting, it's actually very common. Somehow I usually go right by the slow pokes, a quick nod and smile, then I continue looking for more exotic creatures to ignite my creative spark.
Although I often whine about needing to, I rarely take the time to slow down. Life gets busy and it all seems to pile up so high that I can't see the green grass all around me.
This tortoise was exactly what I needed this week.
I had the chance to snap a few pictures of him (or her!) eating, and I when I got home, I decided to clear my schedule for the day.
I ignored emails and texts, I ate a weird concoction of all the things I was craving (sauerkraut, almond cheese, and pepitas)
I enjoyed an afternoon thunderstorm, and then went into the studio and painted myself a tortoise.
(New meaning of fun with alcohol)
See? Going into your shell isn't always a bad thing!
This original painting is a very unique piece of my work unlike my other watercolor paintings, as it
combines watercolor and alcohol on a canvas panel coated with watercolor grounds. The alcohol drips and
mediums make a very unique effect on the non-traditional watercolor
surface.
Visit me on facebook and comment for a chance to win an art print.
Do you need to slow down and draw into your shell?
Let the tortoise remind you to protect what's really important; you!
If you would like to add this "Slow & Steady" original painting to your art collection,
As a thank you to my Facebook Likers & Followers, I'm having a print giveaway!
To enter you simply like my Facebook page, "like" this photo, and comment with your picks.
The winner will be chosen randomly from participants on 4/20, and will receive a hand signed 8x10 archival print of her/his choice (from available stock).
Thanks for all of your support & being a part of my online tribe in artwork & play! Good luck!!! * * * *
May the blessing of the rain be on you—
the soft sweet rain.
May it fall upon your spirit
so that all the little flowers may spring up,
and shed their sweetness on the air.
May the blessing of the great rains be on you,
may they beat upon your spirit
and wash it fair and clean,
and leave there many a shining pool
where the blue of heaven shines,
and sometimes a star.
Since leaving Savannah, every year I celebrate St. Paddy's Day with a
little bit of sadness and a ton of nostalgia. If you've ever experienced the magic and mayhem of a Savannah St. Pat's, you know what I mean. As a SCAD student, our spring break was always scheduled around St. Patrick's Day.
(There's just no way to realistically hold college classes amidst a throng of three quarters of a million people, many with deep Irish roots and some just pretending to be Irish for a day, if not all week.)
I miss the smiling faces of my friends
romping through the historic district and the Guinness fueled revelry of
Tybee Island's Irish Heritage Parade. And to be quite honest, though at the time it seemed a special level of hell, I really do miss tending bar during the greenest week of the year.
To cheer myself during the St. Patrick's season the past couple of years, I've had my own little
celebration of my ancestry and favorite European culture by painting a
Celtic themed piece whilst imbibing a few pints of the black stuff. Although the phrase "Luck of the Irish" is usually misused and taken out
of historical context (it was first coined as an ironic phrase), this year I
focused on the concept of luck.
The traditional symbol of Saint Patrick is a shamrock with three
leaves; each one representing a figure in the Holy Trinity. The shamrock
was also seen by Brits as a symbol of dissent during the 19th century and worn
to promote Irish nationalism.
Run O' Luck
It's no surprise that with a misunderstood phrase like "Luck of the
Irish", many people would associate the popular lucky "charm" of a
four-leaf clover with Ireland.
Traditions says that each leaf of the 4-leaf clover stands for something- ~faith ~hope ~love ~luck
It's also estimated that there are 10,000 three-leaf shamrocks for every four-leaf clover found. Those aren't great odds, but there are clover collectors that have found as many as 160,000 recorded 4-leafs.
But have you ever found a four-leaf clover?
I've found a handful in my life; crawling around through the soft clover, breathing in the freshness of a cool day while the sun shines on my skin. When you find one, it really is like you hit the jackpot.
I don't think I'd want a 4-leaf someone else picked. You do have to look pretty hard, but isn't that the fun of it?
It's all in the search.
The core of St. Patrick's 3-leaf shamrock Trinity illustration and any good luck charm is faith. Our belief dictates what we see. If we see our luck as running out, it probably will.
Our thought patterns train our brains to recognize what we tell them to see.
But maybe if we choose to focus on the minute details and evidence that things actually are going pretty swell, we will see our good luck mixing in, around, and overflowing.
Sometimes a physical trinket or charm helps to remind me to shift to a more positive mindset, and that's totally worth any eye rolling I may get from others.
Many say a four-leaf clover is very lucky while others say you make your own luck. To both I say, yes.
And this year, I made both.
Water is a constant inspiration for me. (As you can see.) Which one of my water themed pieces do you like best? Every piece of art I make is an outlet or a conduit for a specific group of emotions or memories. Each one of them illustrates a piece of me or something that I or a client experienced.
Just from looking at them visually, which artwork speaks to you right now? Everyone has a different interpretation, and art is totally subjective. But the art we choose can say a lot about where we are right now. Leave a comment and let me know why that one resonated with you. (You can also join the conversation on my Facebook page or Twitter.) Details on each piece are below, the bold text is what your art choice might be telling you. 1. Something In The Water ~ 11" x 15", Watercolor & Ink
This piece was inspired by a friend's engagement and wedding. I'm a big fan of love, especially when it took two people a while to find each other. When you've had a not-so-fairy-tale long-term relationship or marriage and it ends, it can be hard to swim back into the deep end. Do it anyway. It's worth it. True love will find you in the end. If you chose this piece, I'm guessing you're in love or really want to be. You're a true romantic that values people and relationships. Dive in, it's waiting for you. ;) 2. Moonlit Tide 16" x 20", mixed media pastel, original in private collection, prints available
I used to live on a magical and very quirky island, Tybee Island, GA. Now, I'm in Florida. I can still make it to the beach in 30-40 minutes, but it is not the same. I miss hearing the ocean lullaby every night, but most of all, I miss the full moon dancing on the night sea. I painted this one night when I was pining away for my little beach town and all of the wonderful friends that call it home. I think the loneliness I feel in Florida came through in this piece, but also the part of me that really likes solitude in nature. If you chose this piece, you're probably in a place like that right now. It's okay to be a recluse. Take a break and escape somewhere that you can be still. Sometimes the moon seems to shine brightest when there are clouds hiding her from the stars.
I paint memorial portraits for peopleall the time, but this was a very special commission for me. A landscape isn't usually interesting for me if it's from someone's direction, but this story was as touching and beautiful as the beach in the painting.
A young wife wanted to give her husband a painting for Christmas to help him remember his father that had passed away. The last good memory he had was having lunch on a beach in the Florida Keys. I was especially touched by the story. I wanted to make this the most peaceful and happy beach I could while still making it look like the view they had during that meal. It seemed like a challenge, but making someone's good memories last is one of the greatest pay offs in my work. Mark was the client's father's name, hence the title. So, I was very relieved and joyful when the painting was received with heartfelt thanks and praise. <3
If you chose this painting, you might be in need of a nice beach break. Maybe it's cold where you are and some tropical breezes would be welcome. I'm also betting you're the sentimental type that has crystal clear memories and tons of photos. 4. Throne 16" x 20", textured plaster & acrylic This piece was created with quite a few underlying meanings, underlying being the key word. I am fascinated by and have a deep respect for the sea. There's something about water and the ocean that calls to me again and again. But- there is always a slight discomfort about what lies beneath the waves. (There's also an iron islands reference for you GOT fans. ;) ) I could go on and on about this piece, instead I'll leave you with a Frida Kahlo quote-
"“I drank to drown my sorrows, but the damned things learned how to swim.”
There is a lot to be said for the texture of this piece and the figures within. If you chose this painting, you are probably drawn to fluid movement, whether it's water or dancing. You're physical and tactile with lots of kinetic energy. You feel restless if pent up and need freedom, even if others say it's a little hazardous.
5. Release 30" x 48", torn letters and sennelier pastel on canvas This piece is very personal and could be an entire blog post in itself, so I'll save it as such. Just
know it was created from a box of old love letters. I tore them up and
created a "self-portrait" of sorts. This piece was made for a group show
titled Beauty for Ashes. If you chose this piece, you're a water baby, too. But, you may sometimes submerse yourself in heavy mental and spiritual quicksand. Relationships and commitments are important, but you might need to come up for air. Don't drown in whatever is miring you down, wash it off and let it go.
6. Certainties 8" x 10", textured plaster & acrylic Fun, textured, pure, energetic and simple. If you chose this piece, I'd like to hang out with you. You're bold, bright, and you bring it. You see silver linings and possess an uncommon optimism while remaining honest and uncomplicated. Never let anyone convince you to be serious and stop playing, you're too smart for that. ;)
7. Matsya 38" x 18"textured plaster & acrylic on wood
The
legend of Matsya is very similar to other Great Flood myths. According
to the Matsya Purana, the king of pre-ancient North India was washing
his hands in a river when a little fish swam into his hands and pleaded
with him to save its life. He put it in a
jar, which it soon outgrew. He then moved it to a tank, a river and
then finally the sea. The fish then revealed himself to be Vishnu and
told him that a deluge would occur within seven days that would destroy
all life. Therefore, he was instructed to take "all medicinal herbs, all
the varieties of seeds, and accompanied by the seven saints” along with
animals. Sound familiar?
The colors of soothing, cool waters saturate this piece featuring a
figure in matsyasana, or fish pose. I created this piece to remind
myself that the deluges of life are not always meant to drown me, but to
wash away the unnecessary obstacles I may be clinging to. Let the
riptide take you out, go with the flow, and know that the current may
sweep you to better shores. If you chose this piece, you are a deeply relaxed person that appreciates stillness while the world swirls and unfolds around you. But if you're stressed right now, this piece might be calling you to lay back. Go ahead, flop into a fish pose. Your heart will thank you for it. <3 8. Outswimming Typhon 19" x 30" textured plaster on wooden skate decks The story and mythology behind this one deserves its own post, but I will say that the decks were given to me by a collector's twin sons. I wasn't sure what to do with them until I learned they were Pisces and their mother believed they were reincarnated together after one killed the other in a past life. (Yeah, I know.) In Greek mythology, Typhon was known as the "Father of All Monsters". Aphrodite and her son Eros (aka Venus and Cupid) transformed into fish to escape Typhon. If you chose this piece, you could be the type of person that is a great companion. You're lively, supportive, and fiercely loyal. Your friends or significant other mean the world to you. You couldn't imagine leaving them to fight off bigger fish alone. Swimming solo is nice sometimes, but where's the fun in that?
9. Reflecting on the River 16" x 20", textured plaster & acrylic This piece was inspired by a blissful day on the black back waters of the St. Johns River. Taking it slow and surrounding myself with nature is my way to recharge. It's also my sanctuary. The cypress trees and their knees stand like members in the choir as I roll by to the alter call. I feel like I am most grateful, reverent, and able to be clearly reflective when I'm in the hammocks. If you chose this one, you know where I'm coming from. You love nature and everything in it. Manicured city parks are boring and way too loud. You like to be in a wild place where the animals and breeze in the trees is the only action. You're ready for a quietride in the boat. We'll let the birds do all the talking.
Artwork & Play 
