Birth Day

"Love is all around you.  Love is within you.  You have created me as surely as I have created you."

--my diary, December 2006

I painted "The Fullness of Time" (acyrlic on canvas 24x24" 2006), shortly before my daughter was born.

Today, December 21, is my daughter's birthday!  She is ten years old!  I can't believe it!  (As it happens, my birthday is tomorrow, on the 22nd, so my daughter and I almost-share birthdays.)  I named her "Nell," which means "cloud" in Scots Irish (according to some baby name book).  Her middle name is Aurora, which means "dawn," because she was born at dawn.

Nell was born in my grandmother's house in New Jersey, where Ian (my husband) and I were living at the time.  (Read more about Grandmommy in my blog post, "Ten Years and a Teapot.")  Here is a picture I drew in my diary:  Grandmommy is eating a cookie and holding her brand-new infant great-granddaughter on her lap.  I really like her gesture and I think it would make a fun painting.

Here is an excerpt from my diary describing the birth:

It didn't take long for me to realize it was happening...I fell into the moment like it was a deep, magical pool.  I felt so loved and supported... the birth transcended all sense of time, the old reality slipped away...I remember walking around the upstairs...holding tightly onto Ian's hands and arms...I felt like he was holding me and I was in a deep ocean.  The pain was great, but it was beautiful too.  I found myself smiling a lot...

Afterwards, Dina [the midwife]...placed the baby on my chest.  She started to make little cries right away, like a little lamb.  Her eyes were wide open, almond-shaped...looking all around, looking at me.  She was so beautiful.  I fell into a thousand, thousand, infinite fathoms of love.  I was so happy, so exhausted, so tired, so transformed.  I felt like a whole new person.  I felt exquisitely beautiful.

Perfect little one, filled with love, swaddled in love.  

Love is all around you.  Love is within you.  

You have created me as surely as I have created you.  

Love, love, love.  

May your days be filled with love.

I made this little sketch of my sleepy daughter two days ago.  Almost ten!  Time passes fast.

Kerry James Marshall: Mastry

"They are uncompromising in terms of the presentation of their blackness.  They are uncompromising."

--Kerry James Marshall

detail of a Kerry James Marshall painting at the Met Breuer, photograph by Elizabeth Snelling

Last week, Elizabeth Snelling and I took the bus into New York City to see the Kerry James Marshall: Mastry exhibit at the Met Breuer.  (Go see it!  It closes January 29th, 2017.)  The exhibit was so incredibly rich and full of paintings that I will make no attempt to summarize it.  I will just share a few of the paintings and some of my thoughts.  I also highly recommend listening to this short interview to hear the artist talk about his art and his process.

Elizabeth looks at "Untitled (Mirror Girl)" by Kerry James Marshall (2014)

Elizabeth looks at "Untitled (Mirror Girl)" by Kerry James Marshall (2014)

In "Untitled (Mirror Girl)," the Black woman is holding her large breasts and smiling, or perhaps leering, at the viewer, standing nearly nude on a pile of discarded clothing.  Nothing submissive or demure about her, so unlike the thousands of nudes we have come to expect from art history.

detail of "Beauty Examined" acrylic and collage by Kerry James Marshall, 1993

"Beauty Examined" is just that, a brutal examination of "beauty," as it is is manifested in a Black woman's body.  Every part of her is labeled, numbered, and judged.  Her skin is sliced off, and she might as well be a corpse.  It is hard to look at this image.

detail of "Beauty Examined"

"...if I can't perceive within myself enough value in my image, or the image of black women, or construct the desire to represent that image as an ideal, then that's my problem, ultimately."  --Kerry James Marshall

Me, taking in "Could This Be Love," 1992, acrylic and collage on canvas, by Kerry James Marshall

So much was going on in each painting!  Sometimes the paintings were horrific in their subject matter (slavery, murder, etc.), but other times they were just ordinary, intimate scenes full of loving and intriguing details.  A lot of the paintings were narratives of Black romance and domesticity.  The men and women wooed each other, or told jokes, or cut each other's hair.  I tried to create stories in my mind to explain the feelings and relationships portrayed (the woman taking off her red dress, for instance...is her mind elsewhere?) but I knew in my heart that there was a boundary between me and the paintings, which not even my imagination could cross.  I could look, but not enter, these private worlds.

I loved "Slow Dance," a tender painting of a couple dancing in their living room, enveloped by music.  For some reason, one of my favorite details was the outlet and the electrical cord plugged into a wall covered in rose wall-paper.  Roses and outlets, music and string beans... The mundane objects of daily life become permeated, and ennobled, by Romance. 

detail of "Slow Dance," a painting by Kerry James Marshall

(You can see it's just a large canvas nailed to the wall, unstretched and unframed, like many of his paintings.)

I especially loved these two paintings of Black women artists.  They are beautiful and proud, with amazing hairdos!  Standing before each of these paintings was like standing in the presence of a Queen or a Goddess.  

The Goddess of Painting...

"Untitled" 2011

Seriously, this show is so good.  I haven't even scratched the surface of it!  Please go and see it for yourself if at all possible.  As for me, it's after midnight, and I have to call this blog post finished, or as finished as it can be, realistically.  I'm going to bed now, to dream, perhaps, of another Kerry James Marshall painting...

"...I have to figure out how to project the image that I want to see represented in the world,

with the same kind of force, with the same kind of complexity, with the same kind of integrity."

--Kerry James Marshall

Virgil's Muse

"...not what happened, just the way

            I imagine it."

--Margaret Campbell, excerpt from her poem, "Virgil's Muse"

"Woman Covered with Flowers, Reading" (1845) Corot

Virgil’s Muse

 

I remember you drawing,

            one hand on the pencil,

            the other hand, pressed

            against your forehead,           

            your body curved.

A bare foot peered out

                        from a crocheted Afghan

                        gathering the stellar

                        distances of light

                                    as if toes can

                        discern the yes

                                    in eyes.

Having lost sight

            of a swallow returning,

            you abandoned the sky,

            devoured the rocky, tree-lined horizon

                        to find yourself

                                    perched          

                        on a window sill,

                                    your hair in flowers,

an anjou pear

            beside you

            forever resting on a bruise

            its shadow pouring

                                    over the edge

                                                of your sketchbook,

not what happened, just the way

            I imagine it.

               

© 2016 Margaret Campbell

 

A note about the poem:

A few days ago, I received an email from Margaret (Peggy) Campbell.  In the email, she referred to my last blog post, "Pears."  She also included the Corot painting ("Woman Covered With Flowers, Reading") and her original poem, "Virgil's Muse," which she allowed me to publish today.  I thought her email would be of interest to those of you who enjoy following the long threads of inspiration, those intimate places where ideas touch, the secret spaces where poetry and paintings are born...

Hi Lauren,

I want to thank you for your posting about pears... What I want to say is that your painting of the pear with the flower in the glass jar helped me to write the attached poem for the sixteen-year old daughter of an old friend of mine. This poem is also connected to Corot's "Woman Covered with Flowers, Reading" (1845)...

During a period when I could not see, I made a collection of painted and collaged "telescopes," and I inserted the poem into one of those telescopes, with a tiny copy of your pear over the telescope's end....sort of like looking at the moon, and seeing a pear. 

Nice to see you at the gallery. I am terrible at gallery openings. In the presence of art, I find it impossible to speak.

Yours,

p

"Wind-ravaged tulip" oil painting by Lauren Kindle (the painting that helped inspire the poem)

More Blog Posts About Poems and Paintings:

 

Glutton Before Death: my poem

The Unfolding Rose: Roethke

Oysters: Jonathon Swift

A Love Poem for Kyle Staver: my poem, and Yeats

Garlic: my poem

Mother-Daughter Trip to the Met: Sappho

Poems About Paintings Part 4: Dante Rossetti

Poems About Paintings Part 3: my poem

Poems About Paintings Part 2: John Donne and George Szirtes

Poems About Paintings Part 1: X.J. Kennedy

Solitude's Trespass: my poem

Pears

"Slice a pear and you will find that its flesh is incandescent white.

It glows with inner light. Those who carry a knife and a pear are never afraid of the dark."

--Yann Martel, Beatrice & Virgil

What does a pear taste like?

 I must have one.

To eat a pear is akin to . . . kissing.

 I wish you had a pear.

And if I had one, I would give it to you.

Read the whole passage about the pear, an excerpt from the novel Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel.  It can also be found on the publisher's website.  I wanted to put the whole thing here, but the publisher's permission form was a little too daunting and time-consuming.  I'm quite lacking in patience and self-control, when it comes to pears.  The most I can hope for is that I will resist devouring them until the painting is complete.

Letters To A Young Artist

"Think of yourself as a professional, always."

--Elizabeth Snelling

Self Portrait by Elizabeth Snelling, gouache

The first letter: October 1, 2010

Hi Lauren,

I worked with Ian on the EAC*...I'd love to see your paintings....I love your house- I walk along that path a lot.

Nice to meet you.

--Elizabeth

*Environmental Advisory Council of Easton (Ian is my husband, an environmental educator)

"Dianthus in a Glass Beaker" gouache on paper by Elizabeth Snelling

Author's Note:  My husband Ian and I had moved to Easton with our newborn daughter in March, 2007.  While Ian got involved with the community through his job at the Delaware Canal State Park, I retreated into the warm cocoon of motherhood, completely wrapped up with domestic life and all of its intimate details, which included the birth of a second baby in 2010.  Although I had a network of friends (other stay-at-home moms) I was in some ways very isolated and out of touch with my dreams of being an artist.  I was unaware of the art community around me.  This might explain why it took me THREE YEARS to respond to Elizabeth's first letter.

"Peonies" by Elizabeth Snelling

October 1, 2013 

Hi Elizabeth,

...I've been thinking of asking you for a while, if you ever have any free moments, I would love to have a conversation with you about art. (I see above you sent me a message 3 years ago that i didn't respond to...my only excuse was having a new baby, I guess.)  Next time you are walking by my house, you could pop in for a cup of tea and some chit chat.

I'm just getting out of an intense period of being totally absorbed by my young children, and I'm really missing painting, and wondering how to get back into it. I know you have kids and I was thinking you might have some wisdom or a few words of inspiration.

--Lauren

"Oliver's Room" by Elizabeth Snelling

October 1, 2013

Hi Lauren,

So nice to hear from you... Walk yourself down to the Lafayette art center on the corner...on Thursday evening at 7pm with a large page and some charcoal and kneaded erasers, and they have a nude model for 3 hours for free.  It's the best way to get back your "hand".  I go off and on, but it's a great practice for anyone. They have lots of supplies there but you should bring your own- large paper is best, pencils, pastels, brush and ink: whatever you like. Go for it.

Or I did small still lifes at home, but you know how hard that is- I also went to the Art Students League, when I lived in the city.  If you have a sitter, sign up for a class at the Baum School in Allentown.

Good luck, it's worth it.

--Elizabeth

 

Dear Elizabeth,

Fantastic! thanks for the advice.  I've been meaning to go to those thursday nights, but I always lose my momentum. i'm going to do it next week for sure.  Thanks again!

--Lauren

One of my early attempts to draw the figure at the Thursday Night Lafayette Community Figure Drawing.

charcoal and watercolor on paper

Author's note:  I took Elizabeth's advice and started going to the free figure drawing sessions.  It was such a gift to have those available, because at the time I had absolutely NO disposable income, and coming up with the standard $10 would have been impossible for me.  At the drawing sessions, I connected with other artists who inspired me and gave me helpful critique.  Some of them encouraged me to seek out serious teachers, which I did.

"Nap" by Elizabeth Snelling

February 6, 2015

Lauren,

Have you ever worked with gouache?

--Elizabeth

 

February 6, 2015

Dear Elizabeth,

A little bit... not very seriously.  I haven't been satisfied with it.  But I love Chagall's gouache paintings, and yours as well.  Maybe I bought a too-cheap variety of gouache...

I'm so enchanted by oils right now, and how long they take to dry, that I have a hard time with gouache, which feels less sexy.  But I think it would be good for me to play around with, and have more fun with color and composition, and be less worried about technique...Your paintings do look luscious, I'm not sure I could get gouache to look like that. It feels flat.

--Lauren

"Two Green Vases" by Elizabeth Snelling

February 6, 2015

Dear Lauren,

It's a great medium.  I, and most people, learn to handle it in design school.  But with some practice you can. Positives: it's cheaper than oils and very portable, cleans up with water but has a much more interesting surface than acrylic paint and it isn't such a bitch as watercolor-unforgiving and mean spirited, in my opinion- meaning I suck at it.  And, like oil , you can work on top forever. Give it a go. I love what you're doing!

Acrylic gouache is ok.  I've been using it.  Old fashion gouache is like silk panties......more trouble, but wow.

--Elizabeth

 

February 7, 2015

Dear Elizabeth,

What is acrylic gouache?  I didn't go to design or art school...I wish I had. I didn't realize I had this burning passion to paint until this past June. It seems like most artists with kids already had a lot of art study and art-career-building under their belts before they had a family, so I'm really struggling with how to make it happen now that I'm at a later stage in life.  It's not in the cards for me to go back to school right now...maybe in a few years...but I just can't wait that long!  I am dreaming about painting at night....

Morgan is at preschool right now.  He goes two mornings a week, so I can paint from 10-12 two days a week...that's not much!  Plus whatever weekends/evenings I can squeeze in, but so much family stuff competes.  But instead of painting right now, I am looking at the disaster of my house that is a messy kitchen, Morgan's bed with pee in it, tons of laundry....it's so hard to prioritize painting even though I want to do it so badly.

--Lauren

"Polka-Dot Shower Curtain" by Elizabeth Snelling

February 7, 2015

Dear Lauren,

Acrylic gouaches are a newish product that suspend the zinc and pigment (which make up gouache) in an acrylic matrix- more stable. It does not flake off the paper like old water base gouache sometimes did.  Consider a class at the Art Students League ( short 3 day intensive), beg for baby sitting, or go to a class at the Baum school.  

Or keep doing what you're doing. It's great.  Ask questions.  I had my kids home as well.  I did go to art school, it's true, and went to school while they were small, but don't worry too much about working while they play!!

"Amar Fireplace" by Elizabeth Snelling

Author's Note:  I continued to paint (including some gouache!) and draw as much as I could, and I was able to generate enough work for my first solo show at The Cosmic Cup coffeeshop in Easton, PA.  I sent Elizabeth an invitation.

One of my experiments with gouache on paper: "Summer Fruit."

April 23, 2015

Hi Lauren, 

I'm thrilled to hear that you are having a show AND you are working in gouache!  Two great events.....

About edges...think of these as "the maker's hand"  it shows your presence- like the writer's voice in a book.  It is a creation on a flat surface, the presentation of a slice of someone's (Lauren's) mind, and the bits that extend onto the edges are a reminder of that.  That said, it isn't necessary to be dramatic or always have that- you have to be careful not to make these marks distracting.  

To wit, "abrash" is a word used in the study of rugs- Turkish, Anatolian, etc. that refers to the idea that only God can make something perfect so the maker would weave into the rug a piece or section that was slightly imperfect so as not to attempt to compete with God.  It's part of the beauty of the piece and also an offering of humility and acknowledgment of our human limitations.  

Now, on a practical note, some examples of how I handle this problem.  Here is a recent crayon (oil pastel) self portrait I did that has sloppy edges.  You can see how much better it looks with the edges left raw AND I will frame them so that the wiggle is left.  The cropped versions lack liveliness, to me.  Let me know what you think.  You can send me your images, if you like.  

Ask anything you like!  

--Elizabeth 

April 30, 2015

Dear Elizabeth,

Thank you so much for your email.  I LOVE our correspondence.  I keep printing out your emails and gluing them into my sketchbook.  I agree, the sloppy edges are better!  I personally love sloppy, messy art, and things that are super perfect drive me kind of nuts.  And I'm glad I can use the authority of "abrash" to justify myself.  I've been going to a few art shows, and noticing that it is pretty common for people to have raw edges of canvas that have some sloppy paint marks all around, and it doesn't seem to be a big deal...

My reception at Cosmic Cup will be Friday, May 29, from 5-7 pm...I want to give my show a name, and I was thinking about "Emerging" because that is the feeling I am having about art, that I myself am emerging...waking up, into the world of painting.  Or maybe I'll think of a better name....Any ideas?  I was told my show doesn't need a name, because it's a coffee shop, not a gallery, but I can't stop wanting one.

Anyway, I hope to show you some of my gouache experiments soon.  I still haven't gotten a handle on using my time wisely, or being able to paint with my kids around.  (They are so demanding!  and lately very quarrelsome, but also sweet and loving.  But always needing my attention.)  But in Sept. when they are both in school all day, I plan to hit the ground running.  I can't over-express my enthusiasm and joy about the idea of being able to paint all day, and have a serious studio practice.

From now until Sept. it will have to be more portable stuff that I can do here and there, take to the park, the river, wherever.  That's why I'm so grateful for gouache.  So, thanks!!!  

Hope to talk to you soon!

--Lauren

 

April 30, 2015

Hello Lauren, 

Every show is a show.  Start your resume now and this cafe exhibit is an exhibit that gets full court press. 

Your first solo....

I've written down the date and even if I don't make it to the opening I'll be there to see it at some point while it's up.  

So happy things are well.  Draw draw draw.  

xox 

Elizabeth 

Elizabeth came to see my show.  Here we are in front of one of my paintings at Cosmic Cup.  We had coffee together and talked about art.  I took lots of notes.  She told me to "think of yourself as a professional, always."

June 22, 2015

Elizabeth,

Thanks so much for driving all the way down to Easton to see me.  I am thrilled and honored beyond measure.  I appreciate all your feedback on my paintings, and I'm kind of amazed but so empowered by your belief in my potential, that my inner-whatever-it-is might actually be worth something.  I mean, especially my narrative paintings, which I used to consider to be my self-indulgent, inferior work.  I feel like you really understand what I am trying to say, maybe even better than I do.

I also appreciate your advice regarding money.  The way you value your own artwork has made a big impression on me...Knowing that you have such a strong sense of the worth of your art makes it easier for me to put a high value on my own paintings.

I could go on and on listing the many things you said that helped me, but I won't bore you.  Just know that I really enjoyed our coffee date, and I am having a LOT of fun looking at the artwork of the various artists you mentioned.  Especially Florine Stettheimer.  Wow!!

Anyway, I hope you have a fantastic, productive summer, and I'll be in touch.  I'll send you some of my gouache-adventures once I have a good little collection going.  

Your friend,

Lauren

 

June 22, 2015

Dear Lauren,

I was just thinking about what a beautiful day I had with you. Very inspired- we will do lots of things.

You have to give it away to keep it.

--Elizabeth

"Above the SInk" by Elizabeth Snelling

Author's Note: A recent message, just a couple months ago, after more than a year's lull in the correspondence...

September 6, 2016

Lauren, Coffee on Thursday??  --Elizabeth

 

Dear Elizabeth,

Omg!  Yes!  I'm crazy about you!  See you soon! ---Lauren

 

Author's Note: I'm pleased beyond words to be able to invite you to Elizabeth Snelling: Still Lifes and Interiors, a solo show of Elizabeth's small paintings on paper, her work of the last three years  The reception will be in my brand new studio, 7 B North Bank Street, Easton, PA, on Saturday, November 26, 2016, from 6-9 pm.

Click here for the Facebook Invitation. 

.

"Cup, Rug, Stone Peach" by Elizabeth Snelling

 

"Follow what you enjoy."

--Elizabeth Snelling

Related Blog Posts:

Interview With Angela Fraleigh: another inspiring female artist, mother, and personal hero

Housewife On Fire: more about my journey to become an artist

 

And visit Elizabeth's website for even more art:  www.elizabethsnelling.com

Creativity Is Everything

"I court the unexpected. I nurture the happy accident. 

Because I believe the truest and highest forms of beauty happen unexpectedly."

--Adriano Farinella

"Equilibria 30" oil on canvas, 24x48" 2015

a guest blog post written by Adriano Farinella

I’m a painter. I use the sky in my paintings as a metaphor for consciousness and approach painting clouds very much the same way as I would if I were painting someone's portrait. Clouds are in constant motion, always changing form and evolving, always beginning and ending simultaneously. That serves as a good reminder that we are in a similar state of change and evolution yet, we ultimately remain ourselves, even as we redefine our form or place in the world.

Contemplating and accepting that kind of impermanence can be very comforting or very disturbing depending on how grounded one is.  I try to set up that sort of tension and comfort in the paintings.

There's not much that I don't consider beautiful or meaningful in the natural world and it's not difficult for me to be truly amazed by how powerful simplicity can be, but how difficult it is to simplify. That process alone motivates and inspires me every day in the studio. But for me, inspiration is mostly a slow and steady smoldering fire rather than a lightening flash, although the lightening flashes do happen once in a while. 

Inspiration takes cultivating and I have to nurture it rather than wait for it. I have to be mentally and spiritually wide open and vulnerable yet focused and protective of a daily practice. So inspiration becomes more a way of living than a direct cause and effect relationship. 

Cultivating that kind of inspiration is a practice- like everything is.  And a practice is a sacred place.  It’s a dialogue. And if you’re really present, you’re mostly the listener.  If you think a creative practice is commanding something to bend to your will, you’re doing it wrong.

I’ve learned to always stand humbly in the face of creativity.  It's a conversation--an exchange rather than a command.  It's better to approach it graciously and have it unfold in layers than to barge in on it and try to force something to become what you want it to be.  It wants what it wants. If you are making marks or decisions with the medium that are consistently not working then it’s a call from what you are creating that it wants something else. And you better listen to it. When you don’t, you foster an energy that breeds frustration and that can lead to killing your creative spirit by strangling it with harsh judgement.

I was having one of these moments once, when out of nowhere this little phrase just started playing on a loop in my mind:
“Every mark is the right mark, every mark is the right mark”.

 When I really allow that phase to permeate every part of me and my studio, it has the ability to transform my perspective and can turn an absolute mess into more of an investigative mission to find the simple in the complicated.

"Equilibria 40, oil on canvas, 48x48", 2015

Building my life around creativity has taught me many things. I’ve learned that there’s never a time when the answer to the question: ‘what should I do to solve this?’ is  ‘…make it more complicated’.  The answer to that question is always, ‘simplify’.  Painting is simple. But painting simply can be a very difficult thing. 

None of us is born knowing who we are. Creativity can make you stop postponing who you need to be. Mostly because when you are fully engaged to or in a creative process, it’s very much about the moment you are in and nothing else. You are sort of compelled to move forward through the beautiful and sometimes painful paradox of needing to let go of a choice that you built every other choice around; where you learn the lesson that the foundation of a creative life is not a devotion to a craft or skill, rather it’s a devotion to detachment.

There's no such thing as going backwards when you’re fully in creativity. In my experience, even ‘backwards’ steps have forward momentum, in that, they may work to slowly awaken you, rather than jolt you awake. 
Sometimes the slowness of a backwards step is the greatest gift you can give a choice you’re having a hard time making. 

"Illumina" oil on canvas 30x30" 2014

As artists, or creators, we all at some point seem to have this idea that whatever we are making, needs to be perfect before it’s released into the world or even before we accept it as our own. We want to make the perfect thing, perfectly. 

There’s this illusion that what we are making is just sort of born there; without mistakes, without failure.

But that kind of perfectionism is a trap. It’s the anti-creativity. It’s this prison we build around what we make in an effort to save ourselves the humiliation of failing. But you can fail. You can fail elegantly and with grace. And within the creative process those failures are where profound insight lives and so the whole definition of ‘failure’ is transformed and reborn as purposeful forward momentum. 

So much of the work that I consider successful in my career so far has been built on that kind of elegant failure, which really translates as a letting go of what I thought the outcome would be before I started and allowing whatever I’m creating to help in it’s own creation without getting in it’s way with ego and judgement. 

"Remember This Moment" oil on canvas 30x40" 2009

There’s a great deal of letting go involved in the way I work. I can start out with an idea of what I want but it inevitably gets to a point in the process where what I want isn’t as important as what needs to happen for the greater good of the painting. I used to fight that and it made me miserable. But now, I court the unexpected. I nurture the happy accident. Because I believe the truest and highest forms of beauty happen unexpectedly.

I agree with the author, Paolo Coelho, who said, ‘Creativity is an act of courage’. I would add that Creativity is never finished. It’s an ongoing eternally sourced energy, infinite in its scope to restore, to guide, to enlighten, to transcend. and to override whatever it is in us that makes us think we can’t do something.  

Creativity is power, but it’s not force. Creativity is an energy that stretches far beyond art. Creativity is a healer. And it can heal you by way of profoundly deconstructing you. I say let it. Let yourself be deconstructed. Creativity will build you again—Even with the smallest engagement. And in turn, it will connect you to every other creator, meaning every single other person who has gone thru anything at all and had to figure out a way thru it. They are part of you, and you are part of them. Creativity unifies. 

Creativity deconstructs as well as it builds and it does so simultaneously. Which is why art making and life can sometimes feel chaotic and messy. But there's music in that mess. Creativity is an energy fed and sustained by the struggles within the process as well as by the resolutions.

Creativity is never finished. It’s a bridge to beauty—which itself is a bridge to a version of ourselves that we are born to reveal but that can take a lifetime of work and re-working to uncover. 

Sometimes the most comforting words in the world are, 

‘Work in Progress’.

Creativity is Everything. 

"Grace VII" oil on canvas 32x40 2006

You can listen to Adriano give his Pecha Kucha talk, recorded April 15, 2016.   PechaKucha 20x20 is a simple presentation format where you show 20 images, each for 20 seconds. The images advance automatically and you talk along to the images.  PechaKucha Nights are informal and fun gatherings where creative people get together and share their ideas, works, thoughts... -- just about anything, really -- in the PechaKucha format.

For further reading, here are some blog posts about Adriano's painting workshops:

Taking Notes

Everything Is Relative

Autumn Painting Workshop

Sorrow and Art

"But what is it then that sits in my heart, that breathes so quietly, and without lungs--

that is here, here in this world, and yet not here?"

--Mary Oliver, "The Leaf and the Cloud" (excerpt)

Giuseppe Mentessi, "Despairing Woman"

Thomas Benjamin Kennington, "Pandora"

Rodin, "Sorrow and Comfort"

Vincent Van Gogh, "Sketch"

Simon Cowell "That Uneasy Feeling" 

Kurt Peiser, "Couple au Café" 

Kathe Kollwitz, sketch

Kathe Kollwitzm, sketch

landscape by Charles Harold Davis

More sad art can be seen on my pinterest board, Very Sad Art.

Maggie Purcell

This weekend (November 5 and 6) is the Bacon Festival in Easton, PA.  My Studio and Gallery will be open for the entire weekend, 10 am- 3pm both days.  My friend and fellow artist, Maggie Purcell, will have four of her paintings on display (and for sale!) in my studio.  Please come and take a look!  Meet the artist herself on Saturday!  The paintings will be on display until November 21st.  

Maggie has written today's blog post: a short description of her path as an artist.  Enjoy!

"Lemons and Light" 10x12" $350

Maggie:

I have been painting and drawing since I was a young child. My mother realized that a "paint by number set" was a good tool to keep me out of mischief for many hours!  

"Dancing Shoes" 16x22" $375

As a teenager, my Uncle, Frank Fischer, a northern New Jersey oil painter, noticed my drawing and painting abilities. He fostered my interest in oil painting.  My painting style improved under his mentorship as well as my love of art.  I credit my Uncle Frank for my foundation as an oil painter and being able to see art in all aspects of life.

"Morning Breakfast" 16x20" $450

I was born and raised in Somerville, NJ and now live in Frenchtown, N.J.  I have a BA Degree in Fine Art from Kean University of New Jersey. At age 19 I began my career at Johnson and Johnson.  I worked as a Senior Project Manager in Regulatory Compliance at Ethicon and a QA Unit Manager at Cordis before retiring in 2008 after 38 years. 

"Still Life With Pitcher" 12x16" $375

Although my working career was not in the art field I have been an avid painter and student of art for the last 40 years.  Most recently, I studied with local oil painters Frank Arcuri, Trisha Vergis, and Robert Beck. My style recently has evolved from illustrative to the “Old Master’s” under my tutelage with Frank Arcuri.

Note from Lauren:  I can't resist adding a few more lovely paintings by Maggie.  These won't be hanging in my studio this weekend, but you can enjoy them here on my blog!

Having an Artist Mom

a special guest blog post written and illustrated by my 9-year-old daughter, Nell

Having an artist mom is a combination of good and bad.  Sometimes when dad is not here and mom paints, there is nothing to do.  It is great to see the finished paintings...I like her art especially the landscapes.  Having an artist mom is really cool.  I brag that she won 2nd place in the Delaware River Arts Fest.  Also her paintings are the best in the world.  I'm glad that she became an artist.  Sometimes it can be boring when she paints and I have no one to play with but mostly she lets me watch a show.  She is the best mom in the world.  

Me and my daughter, having a date at a cafe and being silly!

Autumn Painting Workshop

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun..."

--Keats, "To Autumn" (excerpt)

"Afternoon sunlight" oil on board, 8x10" October 2016 (painted on day 2 of my workshop)

This weekend, I got to experience my third plein air painting workshop with Adriano Farinella.  The weather was gorgeous, golden, warm, and rich with autumn colors.  Above is a painting I did in this recent workshop.  It's interesting to compare it to the one below of the exact same view, which I did in my very first workshop, one year ago. 

"Sunlit Slope" oil on board, 9x12" October 2015

The first day of our workshop, we set up our easels by the Delaware River in Scott Park.  I had really spent the past year putting the techniques I had learned into plein-air-action (see my blog post Summer Landscapes) and so I was feeling ready to learn something new, and possibly take the next step, whatever that might be.  Adriano suggested I focus on these goals:

  1. Pay attention to the Edges in my paintings 
  2. Make Real Decisions (rather than suggestive, floaty "washes" with lots of medium)
  3. Paint Thickly, without medium, making real commitment
  4. Do what's best for the PAINTING
  5. Expand my Green Vocabulary

"Train Trestle over the Delaware" oil on linen panel, 8x10" (painted on day 1 of my workshop)

"Expanding my Green Vocabulary" means going beyond the four greens I had been using religiously for the past year.  For example, by adding some reds to them, I made them more mature.  This was a little intimidating, because I felt really comfortable with those four greens.  (A great Picasso quotation about Green can be found in my blog post, That Particular Green.)

My four comfy old greens: 

  1. ultramarine+winsor yellow
  2. ultramarine +ochre
  3. cerulean+winsor
  4. cerulean +ochre  (favorite!)

"Afternoon Greens" oil on linen panel, 8x10" (painted on day 1 of my workshop)

And now....... (drum roll),,,,  Some new exciting greens:

  1. Ultramarine + winsor +alizarin....but don't stick with it, play around
  2. Cerulean+winsor+white = Bright Green....gray it out with some red
  3. Cobalt+winsor = grass green
  4. Cerulean + lemon + white = vivid accent color
  5. Cerulean + ochre + orange or other neutral = so nice
  6. Or take cerulean+ochre and add any old neutral (something lying around on my palette, whatever...)

But the take-away message I got was not to adhere to this list like dogma, but to be a little more fluid and intuitive in my green-mixing, letting myself experiment and have fun.

So I had a little green-party, and I forgot I was really painting anything at all, I just got really into making greens!

Some additional notes I took:

  1. Orange and yellow aren't on top of the green, they are in it.
  2. Over-paint the darks in the beginning, then slowly add the middle and light values.
  3. Think about texture: avoid "brushstroke texture."  Use the brush in a way that's not the usual way I use it.

"Morning at Clear Spring Farm" oil on board, 8x10" (painted on day 2 of my workshop)

On the second day of the workshop, I wasn't able to get a babysitter until later in the day, so I brought my kids along to Clear Spring Farm in the morning.  Although they did do a certain amount of whining, and quarreling, they were mostly happy to be with the class.  While we all painted, they ran around in the pumpkin patch, read books, and did their own paintings.

My kids painting too!

I'm glad I took the workshop because I learned a lot, and I enjoyed the experience.  However, at times I felt overwhelmed.  Sometimes the beauty of the scene around me made me feel sad, and I had to stop painting and lie down in the soft grass.  I could feel the landscape slowly filling me up, the sunlight sinking into my soul, and it made my heart break, because it would soon pass, as autumn always passes, and it would all be gone forever.

"...quiet coves

His Soul has in its Autumn, when his wings

He furleth close; contented so to look

On mists in idleness--to let fair things

Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.

He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,

Or else he would forego his mortal nature."

---Keats, excerpt from "The Human Seasons"

 

Thanks for reading my blog!

For more reading:

Taking Notes: my first plein air workshop

 Everything is Relative: my second plein air workshop

Glutton Before Death: a poem

"He smothers himself in perfumed sugar,/ his last taste,/ before winter's cold and unyielding death."

--poem by me (Lauren Kindle)

detail from "Vase of Flowers" painted by Jan Davidsz. de Heem in 1660

A drunken bumblebee, bloated with pleasure,

drugged with nectar, fat and buried deep

within thick lush petals of a red flower,

 

she bends down, wantonly past her prime,

wilting shamelessly in the autumn afternoon,

slightly browned and brazen,

blemished and sensual...

 

He smothers himself in perfumed sugar,

his last taste,

before winter's cold and unyielding death.

 

Oh bumblebee, I see myself in you!

Were I to sense mortality so near,

Whether on some far-flung future day,

Silver-haired and wise,

Or else some sooner day than that,

Unhappily surprised,

I too might glut myself with sweetness,

Earthly pleasures, too plentiful to taste.

 

I'd stare at the golden autumn sunlight until my eyes ached,

And breathe the late-blooming rose until I'd faint:

 

Just one more taste of honey,

Oh, just one more sweet kiss!

The complete painting: "Vase of Flowers."

Kyle Staver Art Opening Adventure

"She bestows power upon the women in her paintings, lifting them out of the familiar role of victim and vessel.  By transforming a pagan world into one in which women can be heroes, she advances the likelihood that we will have to revise everything that we know if we are to proceed."

--John Yau, "A Different History"

"Cardinal" oil on canvas, 50x58"

In early September, I discovered that there was going to be a solo show of paintings by one of my favorite artists:  Kyle Staver!  I had discovered her work online about a year ago, and have been madly in love with it ever since.  (As evidenced by this blog post I wrote back in March: A Love Poem for Kyle Staver.)

I deeply longed to see her paintings in real life!  The only time I had ever seen a real-life Kyle Staver painting was earlier this year, in April, when I walked into the artist Ken Kewley's house and right there, in the entrance way, was a huge, amazing Kyle Staver painting!  It took my breath away; I felt physically struck with emotion.  

Consequently, I started to cry.  (This is an embarrassing story for another, future blog post.)

"Hero and Leander" 68x154"

all of the paintings, studded with bits of intense luminosity...

Art-emotion-addict that I am, I desperately wanted to go to the show, but I was scared of the idea of going into Manhattan by myself for an evening, something I had never done before.  A friend suggested I drive to the train station in Morristown, NJ, and then take a train into Penn Station, so that's what I did.  I felt especially grateful for my rockstar husband, who took over all the dinner-making, homework-helping, and bedtime-enforcing responsibilities that evening so that I could escape.

All during my drive, and then during the hour long train ride, I kept imagining what it would be like.  Would I get lost trying to find the gallery?  Would I get to meet Kyle Staver?  I fantasized that I would be in a vast, quiet gallery radiantly brimming with Kyle Staver paintings, elegantly sipping champagne with Kyle Staver and perhaps a few other interesting artists, while we talked about painting for hours...

"Bathers" by Kyle Staver, 58x68" oil on canvas  

A woman surrounded by admirers, not unlike the real Kyle Staver surrounded by all of her friends and fans at the art opening.

But....when I got there, it was like another world.  In the first place, I had never been to Chelsea before, and I was completely unprepared for the intensity of it.  There were about fifteen thousand galleries all having openings on that same street!  It was insane!  It was like every art opening I had ever gone to in my life in Easton, where I live, times a million!  It seemed like there were dozens of galleries within each building, galleries within galleries within galleries...  People were pouring out onto the sidewalk with wine and arty-expressions, engaged in arty conversations, and I realized how very small I was, how very small my little town of Easton was, and how massive New York City was.  

Then I finally found the right gallery.  (I had to ask some arty-people for help.)  When I walked inside, the heat of the hundreds of bodies hit me like a powerful ocean wave.  I saw Kyle Staver in the crowd but she was absolutely surrounded by people.  I knew, with a sinking feeling, that I would never get within twenty feet of her.  The place was PACKED!  It was hard to see the paintings, but I did slowly make my way around, floating in my own private bliss.  I spent lots of time looking at each painting, and I had thoughts like this:  

"What would it feel like to paint this large?"

"Could I be brave enough to use colors like this?"

"How could I ever give myself permission to paint so brazenly?"

Here's a picture I took with my phone, up close, looking at the space between Leander's thighs.  I just loved these bright, golden fish, swimming out of that sexy space!

Suddenly I was overcome with shyness.  I didn't want to be around so many people; I didn't know anybody.  I wanted to be back home where it was safe and cozy.  I felt lonely and pathetic.  I saw a bench in a shadowy corner, and there was a spot open, so I sat down to hide in the darkness.  Next to me on the bench was woman who smiled at me in a friendly way.  Her name was Martha, and we started talking.  She was so sympathetic and kind, that I found myself opening up and telling her about my whole adventure, my long trip, my deep desire to meet Kyle Staver, and my overwhelming feelings of shyness...

"Well, I happen to know Kyle Staver very well," she said.  "My daughter has been best friends with Kyle Staver for decades.  My daughter is a painter too, Janice Nowinski."

Here's a picture of Martha and me.  There's a whole album of pictures from opening night if you're interested. 

My jaw dropped: I recognized the name Janice Nowinski!  

I remembered that I pinned "The Pink Bathing Suit" on Pinterest.  (I loooove Pinterest.)

 

So, Martha and I looked at the art together for awhile; it was so wonderful talking with her about art and life!  Then she introduced me to her daughter, and also to Kyle Staver.  

I had this conversation with Kyle Staver:

"I really admire your work!" I said.

"Thanks!" she said.

 

And that was that.  And yet, I was elated!  As I traveled home, I felt lucky in so many ways!  

But my favorite part of the adventure had been meeting Martha!

That night, I wrote this on the Kent Art Gallery Facebook Event Page:

"I'm so glad I came and got to see your paintings in person!  They were so large and evocative, I felt like I could almost step inside them.  This curve of light against her side was my favorite part, but it made me feel like a voyeur."

Thanks for reading my blog!  For further related reading:

a great review of this exhibit by William Eckhardt Kohler of the Huffington Post.

this one is even better: A Different History by John Yau from

That Particular Green: a fairytale

"They'll sell you thousands of greens.  Veronese green and emerald green and cadmium green and any sort of green you like; but that particular green, never."

--Pablo Picasso

(photo credit: Ian Kindle)

Once upon a time there was a woman looking for a particular green...

The Riverside Festival of the Arts took place in Easton, PA recently.  (September 17-18 to be exact.)  I signed up to participate in the plein air contest.  (A lot of people ask me what plein air painting is.  Basically, it means painting outdoors, in the full and open air, rather than the studio.)  I have entered this particular contest twice before.  Here's a painting I did in 2011 (I think) when my son was a baby:

"Community Garden Marigolds" oil on canvas, 8x10"  (From the private collection of Katherine Johnstone)

And here's another one I did two years ago:

"Train Trestle over the Delaware" 16x20"  (From the private collection of Bonnie and Toby Tobin)

I didn't win anything those times, but I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of painting outdoors.  This year I took myself to my favorite spot on the way up to College Hill, overlooking the rooftops of Easton.  I have painted this spot once before, in May 2015, for a commission:

"Easton Rooftops in Spring" May 2015, 16x20" oil on canvas  (from the private collection of Berry Steiner)

So there I was, back at that spot again, to see how I would approach it differently after a couple of plein air workshops and a lot more painting under my belt.  In addition, I went plein air painting like a maniac all summer (see my blog post: Summer Landscapes) so I was feeling especially warmed up.  I did some preliminary sketches to establish my composition and simplify the values.

Preliminary sketches.

Then I set up my new easel.  It's a Coulter Easel which I obtained by bartering with another artist.  (A gently used easel in exchange for modeling.)  Sorry Frenchie, our relationship is over.  (Frenchie is my horrible French easel.)

Hello new easel.  I love you!

Starting to paint!

Even though I was sick (I had a nasty cold!) I put 100% of my effort into this painting, and I did my very best.  I'm proud to say I even painted in the rain, an umbrella in one hand, and a paintbrush in the other! 

My good friend Rachel Engh took this photo, and wrote about it, among other things, in her blog, "30 in PA."

Finished painting: "Easton Rooftops in September" 16x20" oil on canvas.  Sorry this isn't the best photo.  I'll update it as soon as I can.

And guess what!  I won second place!  Here's what I wrote that night on facebook:

"I am over the moon! Wow!!! I can't believe it!!! I won second place in the plein air contest!!!!! 
I'm so happy and grateful and surprised! The $500 reward will come in handy paying the rent on my new studio! 
(Please come to my grand opening Oct. 1!!)"

Here are the winning paintings, from left to right, starting with 4th on the left, and first on the far right.

And here's a picture of me, surprised, grateful, and ecstatic:

She found her particular green.  

(It was cerulean blue + yellow ochre.)  

Damn, it was good!

And She Lived Happily Ever After, Painting A Lot

The End

A Room of One's Own

"Before we produce anything at all, we have to have a sense of free and open space..."

--Chogyam Trungpa

My talented photographer friend, Esther Hiamang, did a photo-shoot of me and my kids in my studio.  These photos are all hers!

Many of you already know the big news: I have my own studio!!!  I'm so excited to have my own space!  As Virginia Woolf famously said, “a woman must have money and a room of her own..." and although she was referring to fiction writing, I believe this can certainly apply to painting.  Finally, after two years of painting in the hallway to the bathroom in my house, I signed the lease agreement in August, and now I'm officially moved in!  Everyone is invited to my Art Studio Grand Opening Party on Oct. 1, from 10 am- 6 pm.  This is also Easton Garlic Fest!

I can't believe I have my own studio!!!  Here I am feeling so amazingly lucky, standing in the adorable little alley where my studio is.  This alley is North Bank Street.  You can send me mail!  My address is:

Lauren Kindle

7B North Bank Street

Easton, PA 1804

Here is my front door!  I planted flowers around it, as you can see.  On the left in this photo is my daughter Nell, age 9, and in my lap is my son Morgan, age 6.  My door is the right-hand one.  The left-hand door belongs to my wonderful neighbors who have a publishing company.  They moved in the same day I did!

My new studio is in a great location, if I choose to open it up for retail purposes on occasion.  It's right next to the Easton Public Market, the Farmer's Market, Terra Cafe, and the boutique, Just Around the Corner.  There is also a new restaurant being built across the alley!  I bought this official red "Open Sign" from the Easton Main Street Initiative.  There is also Artists in the Alley which is every Saturday from 10-2, I believe.  You can see the tents of some artists in the photo above.

So, being a mom is wonderful, but balancing motherhood and art is no easy matter.  (I have blogged about this quite a bit!  Read "My Son Is Mad At Me Again" or "Finding Balance" for example.)  But now that my kids have started school again this fall, I can have regular hours in my studio from 10 am- 3pm, Monday- Friday, industriously working on all of my many ideas and commissions.  (But I'm not a store, so I won't necessarily have regular hours open to the public.  You can always look for the "Open" sign, or send me a text to see if it's a good day to visit: 267-247-6364.)

My daughter and I, on the threshold of something new!

My son and I, in my new studio!

I can't get over my feeling of SPACE.  Not only am I experiencing this wonderful physical space, which I've never had before, and which is all mine, but I have a great feeling of expansion within my soul, this inner space, which makes me feel so light and airy, like I'm floating all the time.  

And added to that, I have another dimension of space, this dimension of space in TIME.  I have so many days, weeks, months, stretching out before me, waiting for me, longing for me, for painting...

It's like a dream!  I don't have to rush, to stress about "pounding out" a successful, "sell-able" painting in the short time I have a babysitter.  Instead, I can take my time, I can pause, I can think, I can potter around my studio.  I can play!  I can make little sketches!  I can daydream!  I can allow it all to happen naturally, without forcing it.  What a slow, sensual, and loving approach to painting this will be!  I'm filled with sweet anticipation and gratitude!

 I'll leave you with this quotation:

"If we develop the notion of space fully and properly, we begin to find that there is no burden, no load... We begin to realize that an extraordinary openness takes place in our lives-- in the way we move, the way we eat, the way we sleep, and the way we create a work of art. Tremendous freedom takes place in that basic space. Such freedom is not a product of the creation of art; it is pre-production freedom... Before we produce anything at all, we have to have a sense of free and open space with no obstacles of any kind."

--Chogyam Trungpa "True Perception: the Path of Dharma Art"

Special Bonus!

A Mini-Interview With Esther, the photographer for this blog post:

 

Me:  What inspires you to be creative?

Esther:  Being creative is a necessity for me.  It's the best way to solve problems and address various obstacles that come up in life. The benefits to creativity far outweigh the effort it takes to create. I am wholly inspired by the results I get; whether it's from my subjects or those moments where i'm so absorbed by the process that I'm on a sort of "cloud nine."

Me:  What to you do to overcome obstacles or blocks in the creative process?

Esther:  I take a step back and don't push it. I work well under pressure, but I've also noticed that I stick to rules under pressure that my hold me back; it may be what is causing that block. A fresh perspective is always conducive to the creative process.  Those perspectives are constantly occurring but you will only get to indulge if you are open to it.

Me:  How do you balance your art and your family life?

Esther:  I like to think that separating the two is what does it for me. "Out of sight, out of mind" is my motto when it comes to work and family. I do not like to mix the two unless I'm in the editing process and someone asks or I actively seek opinions from the ones closest to me. So time dedicated to work and art stays that way for the most part. When I've made up my mind that this is the time that I do family stuff, I keep work out of my mind. 

Here's a photograph of the talented photographer, my friend Esther, owner of EH photography.  You can read more about her here.  I'm so proud to tell the world about this amazing woman, who manages to run her own business while also being a full-time student, partner, and mother.  She is truly an inspiration!

"I don't consider myself an artist. Not quite yet anyway.  When those moments do come and I feel that I am doing something artsy, it's a treasured success for me. I'm not sure what I am, but i'm glad i'm doing it."

--Esther Hiamang

Summer Landscapes

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."

--Proust

What I did over my summer vacation:  I painted plein air!  Boy, did I paint!  All summer long!  

Here I am with my bag of supplies and my bulky french easel and my optimistic attitude, in a field of golden coreopsis flowers!

As many of you know, I took the month of August off from blogging, and I'm glad to be back!  I didn't realize how much this weekly practice sustains me, and how much I look forward to it.  Over the summer, since the kids were out of school, I wasn't able to have much time to myself.  The kids were restless to play outside, and I was restless to paint, so, we went on a lot of plein air adventures!  I took the kids to beautiful outdoor places, like the river, and set up my easel to paint while they played.  Or occasionally I painted in the evening when my husband was home from work, or when I had childcare, or when the kids were in summer camp.  

What follows are photos documenting my summer of painting: my golden, hot, dreamy, painterly summer!

(You can see even more photos on my facebook album, "Plein Air Adventures."  All these landscapes are for sale, unless it says otherwise.  They range between $50-$240, depending on size.  They're not on my on-line shop yet, but I'll put them on soon.  Meanwhile, you can always send me an email if you're interested.)

Here I am on my first plein air adventure of the summer.  I found this great vista at Stoney Ridge Horse Farm in Bangor, PA.  Thanks to my good friend Berry for babysitting my kids this particular day!  Friends are the best!!!

Here I am on my first plein air adventure of the summer.  I found this great vista at Stoney Ridge Horse Farm in Bangor, PA.  Thanks to my good friend Berry for babysitting my kids this particular day!  Friends are the best!!!

"Stoney Ridge Horse Farm" 6x10" 

"View from Stoney Ridge" 9x12" 

One morning, our family drove down to Mueller's General Store, down 611 just south of Easton, PA.  My husband took the kids into the restaurant for breakfast, and I walked down to the river and set up my easel.  Attention painters: this is a great spot, there is a path down to the river where there is a great scene for painting.

"You will connect to that great river of lovely ideas that is running through you all the time." --Margaret Peot

Later, my family came to join me.  The kids played with the rocks by the river, skipping stones.  But, I'll be honest, they weren't always this cool or happy.  In general, 2 hours was the maximum amount of time they would tolerate me …

Later, my family came to join me.  The kids played with the rocks by the river, skipping stones.  But, I'll be honest, they weren't always this cool or happy.  In general, 2 hours was the maximum amount of time they would tolerate me painting.  Good enough, I'll take it!

"The River Near Mueller's" 4x5"

A typical 4x5" sketch of the river.  I did a lot of these little tiny sketches.  Partially this is due to the stress of working with kids around, and not wanting to commit to something big in case I have to stop too soon.  But also, I'm really fearful of painting large landscapes, so that's something I'd like to overcome in the future.

The next day we went camping by the river south of New Hope, PA.  I went swimming too!

My son took this picture of me painting in my bathing suit.

The kids wanted me to swim, not paint, and kept begging me to jump in the water!

The river, just south of New Hope, PA, where we were camping.

I did a lot of value studies with Burnt Umber, Ultramarine Blue, and White, before I did my "real" painting.  Here's a sample.

I did a lot of value studies with Burnt Umber, Ultramarine Blue, and White, before I did my "real" painting.  Here's a sample.

"Peaceful River" 4x7" oil on board 

“...we make art to fulfill our days among the living...as the river quietly flows, we proceed at our work.”

--Julia Cameron

 

One week in June, the kids were signed up for a nature summer camp at the Giving Pond in Upper Black Eddy.  My husband was leading the camp.  (He's an environmental educator for the Delaware Canal State Park.)  We came early, and I set up my easel in a stunning yellow field of coreopsis flowers.

My kids playing angelically while I paint.  Just kidding, they were fighting a lot and being pretty annoying. But I still like the picture. 

A series of paintings of this coreopsis field that I did during the three-day summer camp:

"Coreopsis Field 1" 8x10" oil on board 

"Coreopsis Field 1" 8x10" oil on board 

"Coreopsis Field 2" 5x7" oil on board  

"Coreopsis Field 2" 5x7" oil on board  

"Coreopsis Field 3" 6x9" oil on board

Paradise!

"Coreopsis Field 4" 9x12" oil on board

Mid-summer, my family drove out to Morris Run, PA to visit my in-laws.  I got to see my little nieces, and my brand-new baby nephew.  While the kids played happily in my mother-in-law's lush garden, I painted them!

Painting in Lida's garden...

"Children in the Garden" oil on board, 5x7" SOLD

We came back to Easton, and I made two sunset-painting-dates with friends, one day with Rachel (I blogged about it: Painting the Sunset.) and another day with Ellyn (you can see her doing yoga in the field.  This is Stoney Ridge Horse Farm again; that place has enchanted me forever!  

"Sunset and a White Horse" 5x7" oil on board SOLD

“No one could ever paint

a too wonderful picture

of my heart or God.”

--Hafiz

Above: me, the sky, and another small sketch, "Sunset Sketch."  4x5" oil on board

In July, I enrolled my kids at a great summer camp at the Book Garden in Frenchtown, NJ.  While they had fun at camp, I went down to the river near the Frenchtown Bridge and The Bridge Cafe.  I loved this spot!  I painted this view a lot, as you will see.

“A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing.”

--Maya Angelou

"The River at Frenchtown on Monday" 8x10" oil on board

"The River at Frenchtown on Tuesday" 9x12"

I really used things I learned from a plein-air painting workshop I took in April (see my blog: Everything is Relative.)  The workshop was led by Adriano Farinella and there was a strong emphasis on Value.  You can see me trying to figure it out in this photo:

One day, my friend Adrienne came to paint with me.  She is a great artist and friend!  

Her website is www.adrienneluntstudios.com.  

Above: Adrienne and myself.  Just two ladies wearing awesome hats and painting....

Here are some more sketches I did of the river in Frenchtown:

Below: "Sketch of the Giving Pond" 4x8"  (Upper Black Eddy, PA)

And so, you can see that I had a full, productive, sun-soaked summer.  I painted, I learned stuff, and I had fun!

"Woman Painting Outdoors" a sketch of Adrienne at her easel, 4x5"

Thanks for reading!  This blog post represents my 1-year anniversary of blogging about art.  

A year ago, I wrote MY FIRST POST, Generous Permission.  It's kind of neat to go back and re-read it, and review my goals.  Since I began this adventure a year ago, I have done so much!  In addition to my weekly blogging (47 consecutive weeks without fail, including interviews with artists, essays, poems, and original short stories) I have managed to generate a regular, consistent income through art sales, I have had two art shows (one collaborative, one solo), I have surpassed my goal of 250 people on my email list, and, most recently: 

I signed the lease for MY OWN STUDIO in August!!!

I'm very grateful to my supportive family, especially my husband, and my friends, without whom I never could have accomplished so much.  I'm also very grateful to the amazing, inspiring artists in my life, the many teachers, mentors, and friends that have given me kind encouragement, critique, and feedback to help me grow.  

I feel very lucky to live in Easton, PA, where the arts are held in high esteem, and where artists abound.  It's a great place to be an artist!

Interview With Angela Fraleigh

"The best thing you could teach any human is to value their passion and their time."

--Angela Fraleigh

Ghosts in the Sunlight, oil and metal leaf on canvas, 90" x 66", 2014

Ghosts in the Sunlight, oil and metal leaf on canvas, 90" x 66", 2014

Over a year ago, I discovered the artwork of Angela Fraleigh.  Her large, luscious, often mysterious paintings absolutely gripped my soul.  I was also inspired to learn that she was a mother, and I wrote her a long fan letter describing my own personal desire to be a painter, and the subsequent onslaught of conflicted emotions I felt.  She responded with incredible warmth, giving me exactly the sort of encouragement I needed at the time.  So, you can imagine the thrill I felt when I entered her studio in March, where she had graciously consented to an interview.  What followed was a stimulating conversation about art, motherhood. feminism, politics, and the links between history and our current era.  You can listen to it (44 minutes), or read it, as I have transcribed it below, to the best of my abilities.  I am so pleased and proud to be able to present this to you!  Enjoy!

Walking into Angela Fraleigh's studio, in the basement of her house, the first thing I see is this floor-to-ceiling work-in-progress.

LAUREN KINDLE:  All right, here I am, in Angela Fraleigh’s studio, in Allentown.  I’m so excited to be in this space.  Sort of a neat, basement space.  And I was looking over, I had sent you a long e-mail a year ago, and you replied so kindly, and warmly, and encouragingly, and I want to say thank you for that.  And your blog has been a real inspiration to me, just all the different materials available, and interviews of artists.  So I’m thrilled to be able to talk to you in person.  And I guess I would just like you to say a little bit about yourself, where you live, what’s your family like, just to tell people.

ANGELA FRALEIGH:  Well, I live in Allentown.  I teach at Moravian College, that’s why my husband and I moved out here about ten years ago.  He teaches at Lehigh and I teach at Moravian, and that like never happens in academia.  So we took it as a sign from the universe that we should buy a house here.  And we were living both in New York and here at the same time, and then the market crashed, so then we just moved here full time.  Since then, I was awarded a fellowship at the Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts in New York, so I have a studio space there, where I do mostly my works on paper and stuff like that.  And then I have a studio here, in my home, as you know, which helps because I have a three-and-a-half year old daughter, and it just kind of allows me the opportunity to save on commuting time, and stuff like that.

One wall of Angie's studio has these windows, and the enticing debris of creativity-in-progress.

LK:  I know this is a simple question, but, how do you balance your different roles: mother, wife, and artist?  And you’re also a professor:

AF:  Well you know, it really helps to have a husband who’s an artist too, actually, I have to say.  Because he has his own passions, and I have my own passions, and we kind of understand that when there’s a deadline afoot, or there’s something going on, that we just really support each other through those processes.  It’s obviously been more complicated by having a child, because I just can’t paint until three in the morning, if I want to now.  We have to get dinner on the table, and we have to pick her up from school.  There’s a lot more that I have to juggle, obviously.  But I have to say that having a kid made me even more ambitious career-wise.  Like I’ve always been ambition in terms of my passion for my work.

But having her made me feel like it’s now or never, and I wanted to be someone that she would admire and respect also…didn’t want to have any regrets, I didn’t want to put my entire self into the thing that I care the most about, you know, career wise…  I feel like in terms of balancing, you just do what you have to do, when you have to do it, and it’s a day by day kind of thing.  We have a schedule, but you know, my schedule at Moravian is pretty much full days, 9-6, Monday, Wednesday and Thursday.  So I have Tuesday and Friday.  Tuesdays are my studio days…usually I’m in the city on Friday.

LK:  It’s really only one day.

AF: Yeah…and then, today, I have a little bit of time before I have meetings at school… I just fit it in where I can.  I have a lot of help too.  My Mom thankfully lives right here.  She spends almost the full day with Tuesday (my daughter’s name is Tuesday) on Sundays, so that helps a lot too.

LK:  She lives in Allentown or in your house?

AF:  Well she lives in the house right now, but we bought the house right next door, my husband’s renovating it.  So, she’s moving in literally this weekend.  So she’ll still be right there, which is really great.  Tuesday loves spending time with Grammy.

LK:  That’s great.  I love it.  It’s a good setup.  I like it.  So then, I was going to ask what’s your average studio day like, but it sounds like it’s just one insane day.

Angie painting in her studio.  I know it's a little blurry, but I just love the paintbrush-in-action!

AF:  Well you know, I’m mean, I’m piecing it together, and of course I have summers off, from teaching.  So that is when I get a lot of my work done.  And then if there’s any breaks from school, like we just had spring break, so I had like literally all week…

LK:  Do you get daycare during the summer?

AF:  Yes.  Yes.  So, we would be nothing without daycare.  This ship would have sank a long time ago, without people we love and trust taking care of our daughter... 

i believe in you. pencil on paper. 11 x 15”. 2011.

 

AF:  The average day…I’ll try to go to the gym, or get a walk in.  I get home at like 10 am.  I do email for an hour, I’ll eat my breakfast, and then I’m literally just painting…from 11:30 until I have to pick her up which is 4:30.  So I’m just straight…you know, that’s how it goes.

LK:  That’s a long time.

AF:  Yeah, but you know, but when you don’t have very much time, you just force yourself to do it, right?  And I like it…  If I could do anything, it would be painting.  All the time.

LK:  What does the act of painting mean to you?  Tell me about your medium, your materials…time spent actually creating versus reflecting?

AF:  Well, the hardest…everyone usually asks…how long does an average painting take?  It’s such a difficult question to answer, because it’s really conceptualizing what the work will be in the first place that kind of takes a long time.  For me it really takes a long time to just give myself permission to do certain things.  Like with this last body of work, when I finally gave myself permission to just take figures from Old Master paintings, and you know, use them as stand-ins…let them be the subject matter.  That kind of opened up, and the work kind of told me what it was about.  And then I got to…go off on a crazy tangent, in terms of what I would create from that, you know what I mean?  From giving myself that permission.

LK:  What do you mean, giving yourself permission?

AF:  I have a lot of like, “Can’t Dos,” in my head all the time.  I don’t know, I think most artists…go through this.  But I have a lot of like, “No, you can’t do that, You can’t do that, There’s no way you can do that.  What makes you think that you can do that?  That wouldn’t be any good, whatsoever.  What does it mean?”  I’m always coming back to “Yeah, but what does it mean, then, if you do that?”  And that can be a stumbling block for weeks, months, even years, which really sucks.  So I finally give myself the permission to say, “Who cares?  Who’s looking anyway?  Why not just do the thing, and see if it works afterwards.  You don’t have to show it to anybody.”  … I have these two clichéd angels on your shoulder: one’s really mean, and one’s really nice.  So…the most productive artists are the ones that lean into the nice one a little bit more…

LK:  Right, hopefully!

AF:  And the ones who crumble into…who keeps themselves from making the work that they’re able or meant to make, they’re the ones that listen to the devil.

LK:  I was curious about where you find your sources for your paintings?  This rich symbolism, these narratives, seem like they’re from myths or old stories?  Dreams?

you’ll see me from a trillion miles away Oil and galkyd on canvas, 48”x 60”, 2014.

AF:  Right, so that kind of sits right on the heels of what we were just talking about.  Once I gave myself permission to use these older female characters…I didn’t want to use…for a long time I painted myself.  I was the stand-in for this metaphorical power dynamic that the work was about.  And then I was sick of painting myself, so I painted friends, and former students.  Studio assistants, and stuff like that.  But it wasn’t really kind of clicking in the way that I really wanted it to.  So once I finally gave myself permission to use these older female figures, you know, they’re from Old Master paintings.  They have a certain style, it opened up this possibility to start using painterly language in a different way.  Because if you work from photographs, you see the photograph.  The light in the photograph, they’re flat.  You see that it’s from this other space, this other kind of visual language.  Anyway, painting from paintings has allowed me to think more about materiality in terms of figuration…

LK:  But you’re not exactly copying Old Master paintings…

AF:  No, I’m kind of like, plucking the figures from Old Master paintings, and then kind of recombining them, almost like collaging them into new spaces.  Sometimes I won’t change anything about the configuration of how the figures were in the Old Master paintings, but I’ll edit out certain nefarious characters.

LK:  Like the boys.

(laughter)

AF: Yeah.  The whole concept of this last body of work is about trying to find invisible histories or dormant narratives for this cast of female characters from Old Master paintings with the idea being that, since feminism from the 1970’s—which was really kind of amazing in so many ways about kind of drawing attention to how visual culture really affects the way people move through the world and the way they even think about themselves.  So in the 1970’s there was a lot of kind of whistle-blowing on how all the female figures from a lot of these Old Master paintings were these passive females nudes, that had no agency, no sense of power, etc., etc., etc.  So this body of work actually kind of questions that notion. … My work is always about how meaning gets made.  How we construct the narratives about ourselves and others based on the stories we tell.  And so if that’s a dominant story, that story is that these characters are disempowered in some way or another.  I’m just curious can we restore agency and empowerment to these female figures just by deciding to?  Even if they’re not changing in body gesture, or pose, or even putting clothes on, can we still see them as powerful?  Does that makes sense?

 

something has already started to live in you that will live longer than the sun, oil, galkyd, acrylic, gouache and graphite on canvas, 66"x84", 2014

 

LK:  Yeah, I love it!  I was wondering, can we relate it to feminism today?  Is there any value or meaning in talking about it now?

AF:  Yes!  Are you kidding?

(laughter)

LK: I have my own opinions.  I’m curious, a lot of people think you know, this is modern times, these aren’t really problems anymore.  How do you feel about that?  How do you see your paintings fitting into modern issues of feminism?

AF:  Well, this body of work is..if that story were different, if we had decided these characters, even if they are in kind of a passive pose, or if they are nude, you know, the question is, if we had a different story about them this whole time…what would the effect on women today be?  If we didn’t see ourselves as less than throughout all history, where would we be now?

LK:  If goddess culture had just stayed….

AF:  Yeah.  (laughter)  It had never been upturned in anyway!  I guess, I mean, obviously we see these things being played out on the world stage repeatedly.  Hillary versus Bernie for instance.  It’s shocking how…misogyny is just running rampant throughout the culture, and it’s even like the dog whistle misogyny too…there’s comments that maybe only people who are really in tune to it will understand that it’s actually misogynistic, but on the service it doesn’t appear to be at all..

LK:  Things get more subtle now.

AF:  Yeah, yeah.  I think people understand that there’s a certain level of political correctness that needs to be abided by, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t still have the same beliefs.  I mean, you can see it with the amount of people who are supporting Trump for instance.  And they support him because he’s saying what they can’t say.  Yeah, racist, misogynist, blasphemist stuff.  It’s not great.

LK:  And having a daughter, like I do, it’s even more crucial to think about these things.

AF:  I feel like it’s never been more important.  We’ve got momentum going too.

LK:  It does seem like we’re living in a keyed up time.

AF:  Especially if Hillary does become the nominee, and it’s Hillary versus Trump, it’s just going to be a crazy, chaotic storm of insanity.  It’s going to be a wild ride.  We’ll see what happens.

[Note: obviously this interview took place before the primaries.  But, it's still going to be a wild ride!]

"It's going to be a wild ride."  --Angie, talking about the upcoming presidential elections.

LK:  I was reading your blog this morning and you were talking about the importance of listening, trusting your ideas, trusting the process, and I was curious, what does that mean to you?  Do you come into the studio, and before you paint, do you listen?  Or do you just go for it, and you’re trusting that it’s going to happen?

AF:  Well, there’s lots of different parts to the way that I paint, that I need to kind of invite trust.  There are parts of some of my painting where I lay them down horizontally, and I pour mixtures of paint and synthetic resin onto the canvas, and I have to trust that that paint’s going to do something that I can’t do.  And I also have to trust that no matter what it does, I will be able to…like, if it destroys or obliterates a certain area in a painting that I’ve come to love, I have to trust that I’ll be able to get it back, that it was for the best.  You know?  So there’s trust in that…I feel like, I’m just now learning in my late thirties, that I do have to listen more to the impulse, and that initial kind of want to do a thing, and not beat it down….I have this habit of saying “No you can’t do it.  You can’t.  You can’t do that.”  And that’s ridiculous.

LK:  Where do you think that comes from?

AF:  Education.  I don’t know.  Growing up with a dad who was in the military.  I think we all learn it at a very early age, what the right answer is, and unfortunately I think that probably truncates a lot of really brilliant behavior in people.  Because you learn what you’re supposed to do to fit into the tribe.  I think we’re tribal beings.

LK:  Oh, yeah.

AF:  We want to fit in to whatever that is.  That’s why it’s also really important to choose the people that you surround yourself with very carefully.  There’s that saying that you’re the sum of the average of the five people you’re closest to….

LK:  You’re painting, and you’re not afraid of ruining pieces of it, because something happens during the process…

AF:  Well I always start with an idea of what I think the composition’s going to be….but you never know.  And even now, things get really frustrating for periods of time, and I just have to keep working through it that, you know, it’s not the end if you’re not happy with it.  So, just keep working, working, working…

LK:  So that leads right towards my other question.  When you have those kind of moments when you’re blocked or frustrated or not working, do you have techniques that you do to help you go through it?

AF:  I would love the answer to be like, yeah, I go for a walk, or I mediate for fifteen minutes…

(Laughter)

AF:  The answer is really “No.”  I just work myself to the bone until I totally screw it up, and then I have to abandon it, and then I will go for the walk.  I think my impulse is to figure it out.  That’s usually never the answer.

LK:  Maybe because time is so precious to you, that you don’t have time to…

AF:  Yeah, you know, but I should know by now, because it really is the answer, to get into some good-feeling place before trying to make something happen….

LK:  Do you find you need to get space from your work?

AF:  No, actually, the exact opposite.  I get really cranky, actually, I get really frustrated when I don’t have at least two studio days back to back.  Because if I’m not engaged, if that conversation isn’t regularly going on, it takes me a long time to get it going again, if that makes sense.

LK:  Oh, absolutely.  I definitely understand.  I would rather paint every day for three hours, than one day a week for ten hours.

AF:  Yeah.  It’s really hard.  Because there’s that really hard hill to get over in the beginning.

LK:  Yeah.  Maybe it’s like exercise.

(laughter)

AF:  Yeah, exactly!  Absolutely.  Because I would rather work out every day…

LK:  I don’t know.  It’s nice to be on a roll….but, you gotta do what you gotta do….if you don’t have time…

AF:  Yeah, even though I only have one or two studio days a week right now, I still come down and say hi to the paintings every day, to try to keep them warm.

LK:  That’s awesome.

AF:  …to keep that conversation warm.

so as to lose you a little less. oil on panel.6 x 8ft. 2005

LK:  So what are you working on now?  It’s the same stuff with the women…

AF:  It’s a continuation of that body of work, yes, but I have a solo show at the Everson Museum of Art in Syracuse coming up this fall, and one of the main charges from the director there…was that I have to work with the permanent collection in some way.  So I’ve done several site visits, and I’ve been kind of bouncing around. 

They have an amazing ceramics collection that features prominently this one ceramicist from the early 1900’s, Adelaïde Alsop Robineau.  She’s this amazing character.  She taught at SU, she had a retrospective at the Met in 1929, which is unheard of.  It was upon her death, but still, a woman artist….  Anyway she had her own ceramic studio.  She was kind of rare too that she worked from clay to finish, which most women of the day just painted, and made the pots, and she did both, and she started a magazine too…Anyway, she was really a spitfire of the day, able to do all these things.

LK:  I never heard of her!

AF:  So, I’m interested in those kinds of characters, because I think that’s also a huge problem for women.  They might even be really well known in their lifetime, and then some time passes, and they still are not somehow within the canon.  That heroicism somehow dwindles over time.  We have to resurrect them again and again and again.  But you don’t have to resurrect Andy Warhol.  You don’t have to resurrect Picasso.  These guys are like, there.

LK:  I’m so excited about the Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun exhibit at the Met.  

[Note: I took so long transcribing this interview, that, sadly, this exhibit is now over.  I did write a blog post about Le Brun, if you're interested.]

AF:  Oh, yes!

LK:  And I keep talking about it to people and they’re like, “Who?”

AF:  Exactly.

LK:  Nobody knows who she is.  Hardly, maybe, one person.

AF:  It’s infuriating.

LK:  I feel like it’s my duty to hand out pamphlets.

(Laughter.)

LK:  This woman is awesome!  She’s my hero.

AF:  That’s so great.

LK:  And she was very well known in her time.

AF:  And she was the painter of the Queen, you know.

LK:  Many queens….

AF:  So, I have a side story about that.  So, I have to work with the collection in some way, and she was my immediate entry point into the collection.  She has these gorgeous surfaces, these crystalline glazes, these weird little crystal bursts happening.  And they’re really unpredictable and rare and whatever.  It’s hard to recreate once you do it.  So I was going to make sculptures.  I was essentially going to make my paintings come into three dimensions….but they’re so hard to know if you’re going to get anything cool from putting them in the kiln…. I was like, ok, I’ll make molds.  But then molds, to do a mold of a multi-part figure like that, would be like $5,000 each to have it professionally done….so that’s prohibitively expensive….So, I’m still going to be making paintings that are in relation to to Robineau’s surfaces, I’m just going to be making them in the paintings instead.  So I’m working with Mark Golden with the Golden foundation right now.  You probably know Golden Acrylic Paints…

you weren’t haunted those two days, you were flooded with light . oil and gouache on canvas over panel. 66” x 96”. 2013.

 

LK:  How do you sustain yourself?  What kinds of things do you personally need, or you won’t be a good artist?

AF:  Time.  I need time.  And, thank God for my teaching job, because that’s how I sustain myself financially.  And it does give me time, and it’s a supportive environment.  And I get to talk about art all day with students who also love it.  So that’s a really great support system.  Obviously my family is a huge part of that.  Again, I wouldn’t be able to do it without them.  And so, as far as what sustains me creatively—

LK:  I’m just curious, do you need a lot of sleep?  Or do you need time with friends?

AF:  Yeah, you know, it’s one of those silly things, when I’m under a crazy deadline, I notice one of the first things to go are like, working out, eating healthy, sleeping well.  (laughter)

LK:  Eating chocolate!

AF:  Yeah, exactly, I start drinking tons of coffee and eating a bag of chips for dinner.  Obviously that is not the healthy way to support yourself.

LK:  Well you can’t do everything….

AF:  Yeah, in an ideal world… I feel better when I’m working out, eating healthy…Sleep is good but it’s usually one of the first things to go, when I just need to be working.

as far as a voice you can’t hear or remember.  oil on panel. 72 x 96”. 2004

LK:  What artists do you most admire, living or dead?  Or, if you could buy a painting from any living artist, which one would it be?

AF:  Oh wow!  Um…Kara Walker! … Her work is really, it’s politically charged.  She makes work about the antebellum south and slavery and racism, that has a distancing effect to it, because it appears that it’s taking place hundreds of years ago, but I think that, because of that, it speaks really well to current issues of race in our country.

LK:  Oil paints?

AF:  Well, she actually does more like paper cut-outs—

LK:  Oh, I think I know!  Black silhouettes?  She's fascinating!

AF:  Yeah.  She does painting too, and drawing as well.  She’s one of my favorite artists.  Also a friend of mine that I went to grad school with, Mickalene Thomas, I love her work…there’s so many. Michaël Borremans, Lisa Yuskavage, Kurt Kauper, these are all current figurative painters.  Anyone that shows at David Zwirner, really.  That’s my favorite gallery in Chelsea…And obviously I look at a lot of old masters.  Anything Dutch from the 1600s, like Jacob Jordaens, Rubens, you know.  Even like Dutch, moving further in time.  Like Vermeer.  It keeps going.

LK:  Who couldn’t like Vermeer?

(laughter)

AF:  I’m really into Wtetwael right now….He has these weird weird figures—

LK:  Dutch?

AF: Yeah, I think so.  Such silvery light.  Like, green, nude figures.  I mean, they’re just the coolest, weirdest paintings…he was the same time as Rubens, I think, so they’re really weird to see side by side.  Because Rubens is fleshy, muscular, really dynamic.  His are like weird little, almost maggoty…but…in a really beautiful way!

Bacchus Between Ceres and Venus, by Joachim Wtewael

LK:  Any advice you might give?  To an artist just starting out?  Or something you might have told yourself if you could go back in time?

AF:  Yeah, oh God, if I could go back in time, I would say…. I mean, again, my advice changes depending on the person I’m telling it to.  Because some people are really neurotic and they get in their own way constantly.  And some people don’t let me know, and they need more love and encouragement, and they need to chill out and enjoy themselves a little bit more.  And then there are people who are super lazy, and they think everything is going to fall in their lap, and they don’t work hard enough.

LK:  I guess you see it all as a teacher!

AF:  Exactly!

LK:  Well…what advice would you give to…me?

AF:  How would you describe yourself in your journey right now?  What do you need the most?

LK:  (sigh)  I feel like I’m still learning the craft.  I’m very excited about it, but I find myself kind of overwhelmed by the challenges of trying to fit my passion into the parameters of my already-established life, and my role as a mother, and a wife.  It’s like a new thing that I have to fit in….I feel guilty if the kids go to bed and I go to paint, and I can’t spend time with my husband.  He’s like, “what are you doing?” and I’m like, “I have to paint.”

AF:  Right, well I think that what helps for that situation, specifically, is to allot a certain amount of time a week to this thing that’s non-negotiable.  Like for me, it was really important to be like, “Well, this is my work.”  And I wouldn’t schedule a date with my husband during a time that I was teaching.  Or I wouldn’t schedule time playing with my kids during a time that I’m teaching.  So, I prioritize my studio over everything else, or I guess I should say, as much as I would any other obligation that I have.  So…between the hours of 9 and 6, when my daughter is at Montessori, that’s my time to paint or be teaching at my job, or to be working on my career…those things are non-negotiable…I can’t attach any guilt to that because it’s my job.  And also, I think I had mentioned this to you, I think the thing that you want to teach most to your kids is to value yourself, so that they will value themselves, and they will, when it comes time for them to follow their passion, they won’t put somebody else’s needs before theirs.  And you know, that’s the same thing that happens with your partner….I mean, obviously our lives are a series of negotiations and compromises, but it helps for me to have a rhythm, and a schedule set in place, that I can, if need be, adjust that, but it’s in place and it’s there, you know what I mean?  To be valued and respected for all that it should be.

LK:  Right.  Love it!

AF:  Yeah…that’s the best thing you could teach any human, is to value their passion, and their time, right?

LK:  Yeah.  It’s good.  You want your child to grow up and be able to do what she wants to do.

AF:  Would you want your daughter putting some guy’s needs before hers?  …

LK:  No, you have to be the good role model.

AF:  Exactly, so modeling the behavior is first and foremost.  And now that they’re a little older, she can come down and…it doesn’t really work very well, but for fifteen minutes she might occupy herself with something, and I can paint an eyeball or something.  (laughter)

Angie's three-and-a-half year old daughter, Tuesday, painting in the studio.  Cutest studio assistant ever!

LK:  It’ll get easier, I mean, my daughter’s 9, and she’ll stay home from school sick, and I’m like, “I’m painting upstairs,” and she’ll read a book, then we’ll come and have lunch together.  My son is younger, it’s not the same.

AF:  How old is your son?

LK:  Six.  Tomorrow…. It doesn’t last forever, they get older.

AF:  Well, and that’s the thing, you want to spend time with them, too.  But I kind of feel like, everything in moderation.  I spend five hours with her every single day.  So it’s not like I’m neglecting our time together at all.  I’m valuing it, and privileging it, just as much as I am my time in the studio.

LK:  I think what you say makes sense, absolutely, intellectually, but there’s this deep swamp of primordial guilt, that no amount of rational can overcome.

(laughter)

AF:  Right, but as far as like, training your thoughts, that’s something you have to keep, smoothing out those wrinkles!  Because it is, it’s going to come up every time.  Oh I feel guilty.  Oh I feel guilty.  You recognize the emotion, you tell yourself no, and then you go back to doing what you’re doing.

 

slight. oil and galkyd resin on canvas over panel. 72 x 96". 2007

LK:  So, tell me about how you got this idea about women helping women?

AF:  Well…right have I had my daughter, I was thinking, because my work previous to that had been much more about these…violent power dynamics that were taking place, and after having her, the feeling that I was feeling was more like…super powerful.  And abundant, and content, and kind of peaceful.  And the community that I found myself in, and the community that I needed to lean on most at that time, were women.  Women who had been through the experience of having a child before.  Women who knew stuff about babies that I didn’t know.  Women who were still functioning really successfully in their careers while having a couple of kids.  Those were people that I really needed to lean on because they were modeling something that I wanted.  And so, again, I think that’s where this idea of women helping women came from…and I looked through all these images of Old Masters.  You don’t really see women helping women very often in any of these images.  It’s usually men-and-women sex scenes, or some sort of violent war-thing…and anyway, the one myth or story that you see women around women again and again is “Diana the Huntress”…

LK:  Is that a myth that you’re drawn to, over and over again?

AF:  Well, it’s the only one where you see women together.  The other one where you see more than one woman together is “Lot and His Daughters.” … I will paint “Lot and His Daughters” minus Lot, and see what the narrative that’s remaining looks like.

these things are your becoming oil and metal leaf on canvas, 66”x90”, 2014

(These are Lot's daughters, without Lot, lifted from a painting by Simon Vouet.)

LK:  I saw that one! … How might the story have been?  A lot different!

AF:  Well, because also…I can’t imagine that ever happening in the history of the world.  Two women trying to get their father drunk to have sex with him:?

LK:  Right.

AF:  That to me sounds like a story that men tell to justify incest.

LK:  Right, or someone’s fantasy that they had that they turned into a story.

AF:  So, yeah, that’s something I have an issue with.  So some of the paintings are trying to repair narratives that I don’t think are helpful in any way.  Some of the paintings are just about revealing a different narrative.

LK:  Or, tell me about “Diana and the Huntress.”  I know the story.  She was spied on by—

AF:  Well, there’s several different parts of her story, and I probably can’t name all of them, but I just like that it’s this peaceful community of women.

LK:  There was a voyeuristic aspect, right?

AF:  There’s another one where there’s Aceton, and he turns into either a boar or a stag who is then hunted by his own men.  Then there’s another story where one of her companions, Zeus disguises himself as Diana, and so she has this lesbian affair with—it’s actually Zeus—but the woman thinks it’s—

LK:  Wow, I never heard this story!

AF:  She gets pregnant, and then Diana banishes her from the tribe.  So that’s kind of like a sad part of the tale….and of course the story changes depending on where you are in the world and what time it is…I’m just interested in it because of the universal quality of these female characters coming together.

LK:  Do you ever combine different women, different paintings of women together?

AF:  Yeah, now I’m starting to do that a lot more.  I’m suturing different…creating paradise spaces.  They’re kind of like these feminist utopias, I think.

LK:  Ooh, I like that.  Feminist utopia.

though they crowded between, and usurped the kiss of my mouth, their breath was your gift, their beauty, your life. Oil and synthetic resin on linen, 72” x 84”, 2014

AF:  So I’m still attempting to reveal these invisible stories.

LK:  You keep saying that.  Invisible stories.  I like that idea.  It really feels like something real.

AF:  Yeah, well there’s a whole other…I’m really interested in how the stories we tell create the reality we live in, or the reality that we experience.  So one story, it can go through this “telephone game” and get watered down, and changed and morphed and whatever, and it doesn’t matter what the actual narrative was, it becomes whatever it became through that filter.  And I think that’s something that repeatedly happens to women again and again and again, and that’s how the power gets lost, and so I’m really interested in recovering any sort of inherent power dynamic that may have existed…and by using female characters from the past, not only am I doing that kind of distancing thing that I think heroes of mine, like Kara Walker, might do, but I’m also kind of trying to showcase that this has always been here.  We just need to look for it.  So what we choose to look for as a culture is really important too.  Does that make sense?

LK:  My feeling is, a lot of people are so…they’re not lazy, they’re just…watching TV, or listening to the media, and they might not even be consciously choosing what stories they want to hear.  Going back to Donald Trump, he’s got his whole mythology that he’s spewing out, and, I don’t know, people just kind of passively go to it…I mean, it’s all very well for you to say, I’m going to consciously find these invisible stories, but how strong can they really be against the media?

AF:  Well, I mean, art can only do so much, right?  It’s not like going to a blockbuster movie.  You can’t pit the two against one another in terms of the size of the audience you can reach.  But I just have to hope there are other people doing their part.  This is my part.  This is the thing that I care about, this is the thing that moves me, and I’m moved by.  That’s all that really matters, right?  And I believe that when people are taking care of their own emotions, and fulfilling themselves in the way that they need to be , it actually balances out the world in a better way.  I think we all make the world better, just by being happy ourselves.

LK:  Right, I think so.  I think so.

AF:  Yeah, I don’t expect these to change the world.  Although, I don’t know, because--

LK:  I didn’t think so either, but then I started talking to you and it seemed like it was possible!

AF:  Well, I think it is interesting to think about the market.  I mean, this might not be something that you’re plugged into, or interested in yet, but as you move further in your career, you may be.  Like, women’s work sells for a lot less than men’s work does, on auction.  These are women that are incredibly well-known and respected in their field, still selling for far less than men do.  They only make up about 16% of the galleries in New York, which is ridiculous, because there’s way more than 50% of women in schools that are graduating, year after year.  I mean, the statistics do not work in our favor, and part of the interviews that I’ve been doing on my blog have been asking gallerists and curators, what do we need to change?  And they say again and again, we need to change the collector base.  Because the collectors are mostly white men.  And those white men are buying mostly white men.  So…if we can diversify who’s buying work, then that’s one way to do it.  If we could even get those people buying work that has more of a social or political agenda, that works in favor of women, and people of color.  Then, yeah, there might actually be a real shift.  I mean so much has happened in the past ten, twenty years, that it’s amazing.  You know, gay rights!  I mean we obviously still have issues of race in this country, but...we had our first black president!  Things can change, and they do….This is something I care about.  Not all art is supposed to be like this, obviously.

LK:  Oh yeah, I know.  I’m fascinated by it.  And I love the way that you can bring things from ancient times into the present, and it feels connected….

the story she told from that time on. oil and galkyd resin on canvas over panel. 67 x 90". 2007

LK:  I know with me, I’m just painting, painting things I like, or… ideas I have in my head.  I don’t have any political agenda, but there are things that I care about deeply.

A:  Well…you mentioned you’re still in kind of a learning phase, it’s totally normal, you’re not really thinking in terms of concept or series, in a real, kind of intense way.

L:  But you, that’s what you’re doing.  I think it’s neat that your work has depth and meat to it.  Very inspiring!  Thank you so much!

A:  Thank you!

Me and Angie, in her studio!

Thanks so much for reading my blog!  I will be taking a break for the month of August, after 47 consecutive weeks of blogging about art, without fail!  If you enjoyed this post you might like to check out an older post I wrote, highlighting one of my favorite interviews from Angela Fraleigh's blog:

Words of Wisdom from Krista Steinke

You might also want to listen to or read the first artist interview I did:

Interview With Kate Brandes

 

Thanks to everyone for your support in my journey and for all of the great comments people have left on my blog this year.  Have a great summer, and see you in September!!

Words of Wisdom from Frank Arcuri

"The best teacher is painting itself."

--Frank Arcuri

"Italian Plums" 9x12"

Two years ago, in July 2014, I had my first painting lesson with Frank Arcuri.  I didn't know what to expect when I first walked into his peaceful studio in Bucks County, PA, which is located on a quiet wooded property beside a little pond.  However, when I entered the studio and saw the paintings-in-progress, and smelled the aroma of oil paint, I felt a deep sense of contentment.  I was also relieved to find that Frank wasn't at all intimidating, but rather a very kind, humble man, the same age as my dad, and very down-to-earth.

I took this picture of Frank one day, in the middle of my lesson.  

Over the two years that followed, I studied (and continue to study) painting with Frank, coming for one or two lessons a month, and working diligently in between lessons.  I have learned so much from him about his method of painting, the chiaroscuro method, used by the Old Masters.  He is an excellent teacher, with just the right combination of guidance, critique, and encouragement, while also allowing me the space to flounder about on my own and learn things my own way.

Here's a portrait Frank did of me, not long after I started taking lessons.

During the lessons, Frank often says things that strike me as very beautiful and wise, and I write them down in my notebook.  Here, I have compiled these bits of wisdom together, along with some of my favorite paintings of his. 

Enjoy!

"Garland of Plums and Peaches" 12x14"

Don't paint the pear, paint the light on the pear.

Get it so it sings.

How you feel about what you're painting is more important than what you see.

The melody is in the light.  The dark things are the chords behind the melody.

"After Hours" 16x18"

Anyone who paints, paints amidst the distractions of everyday life.

You are painting God's light on God's fruit.  It's a miracle, a form of worship.

"Apricots and Tulips" 18x16"

Carve out the idea of the painting.

If you're afraid, what you paint will look like fear.

"Opulessence" 9x12"

If you have to lose information about color, it's ok.  Sacrifice color for your light.

Sacrifice detail to the Light.

Bright light is only an illusion and you have to create it.

The painting should have something mysterious in it.  The viewer should have to think.  In the shadow, the more mysterious you make it, the better.

Composition is when you arrange darks in a beautiful way.  It's more about value, designing values.

It [chiaroscuro] has to be darker than you're comfortable with most of the time.  People like the drama, the light and dark contrast.

Bring your full attention to what you are painting at that time.

Be nice to yourself and it.  Paint with love.

"Marjarie" 16x14"  Frank's lovely wife, who is also an artist!

Don't paint for your time, paint for eternity.

"Amaryllis in a Dutch Vase" 18x16"

Dreaming of Italy

"I am particularly interested in art.  Mi interessa sopratutto d'arte."

--Barron's Italian Visual Language Guide

I'm dreaming of a painting trip to Italy next summer!  

For the past few weeks, I've been trying to learn Italian using some CDs from the library. 

I already know how to say two things:

  1. "Io non capisco l'italiano. "  ("I don't know Italian.")
  2. "Mi interessa sopratutto d'arte."  ("I am particularly interested in art.")

Actually, "particularly interested" isn't quite accurate.  How do you say "ravenously obsessed?"

A cartoon from an Italian language book I found at Barnes and Noble.

I've never been to Italy, or Europe, and I don't know what to expect, but you can be sure that my imagination is working overtime.  I'm basing a lot of my fantasies on the movie Roman Holiday.  

(Except that, in my fantasies, I'm painting "the whole day long," not goofing off like this silly princess.) 

I bet painting in Italy will feel as amazing as eating gelato with Gregory Peck.  (Here's one of my favorite clips from Roman Holiday.)

I'm hoping to go next year, July 2017, for three weeks.  It would be part of a painting program that I learned about from this Savvy Painter podcast: JSS in Civita.  My understanding is that it would be like an independent study, but I would be surrounded by (and living and painting with) lots of other serious artists, and I would go on field trips to museums and beautiful cities, and basically be in Italy.

A landscape-in-progress in Civita, Italy.  I assume this is Antrese Wood's painting.  I found this photograph on her Savvy Painter webiste, relating to the JSS in Civita podcast.

My plans hinge upon winning a merit-based scholarship.  The application is due in April.  I don't know how competitive it is (probably very), or if I have much of a chance, or even the tiniest chance in the world, but regardless, I'm forcing myself to be optimistic.  I already have childcare for those three weeks lined up, just in case!  (Thanks family and friends!)  I just have to raise money for airfare and food. 

I'm soooooooooo excited about this potential opportunity.  I know it might not happen, and that's ok.  I know I can still have a good time painting in Pennsylvania, and maybe postpone this Italy thing a few years or decades.  But for now, I'm just enjoying the wonderful feeling of possibility bubbling up inside of me.  I feel exactly like I'm a glass of champagne!

 

Painting the Sunset

"Her heart was made of liquid sunsets."

--Virginia Woolf

On Saturday evening, I had a date with the sunset.  My friend Rachel picked me up at my house, and we drove north to the rolling farm hills of Bangor, Pennsylvania.  We couldn't stop smiling, giddy with mutual anticipation.  When we arrived at the quiet horse farm, the sun was still pretty high in the sky, saturating the vista with that golden, fading, achingly beautiful light. 

Rachel and I enjoyed a leisurely picnic: fruit, hummus, bread and cheese from the Easton Public Market.  We talked about the things that weighed upon our hearts: our hopes, our ideas, and our desires.  

And slowly, the sky began to change.  

I could easily imagine the sunset was a person, perhaps a lover, who had long been waiting for me to paint him.

I set up my French easel.

When I am painting, I feel like I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing.  It's such a strong, powerful feeling, I'm not even sure how to express it.  It's just this feeling of absolutely blooming, fully opening, like a flower planted in just the right spot, or a bird being allowed to fly at the perfect moment, or the sun setting, just at the right time, just the way it's meant to, in all its radiant glory, its billows of glorious colors...

"Sunset and a White Horse" oil on board, 5x7"

While I painted, Rachel was also working on an art project: "A Dance for Paper Dolls."  This project is so fascinating, that I promise to devote a whole blog post to it soon.  I'm so happy and grateful to have made this new friend, someone with whom I can share moments of creativity, delicious food, and trysts with sunsets.  

Rachel, working on her dance for paper dolls.  (She has a blog called 30 in PA which I love.  She wrote about our sunset adventure in her recent post: Dance for I Want You to Hold My Baby.

Once the sun started setting, the sky changed drastically, and rapidly, moment to moment.  When I looked behind me, I saw this vision of magenta and violet.

When I looked in front of me, I saw such a blaze of glory, impossible to paint, and yet so irresistible.  I could not imagine anything more wonderful!  I didn't really care how my painting turned out.  Just the experience of being here, and painting, and living in this sunset-moment, it was almost more blissful than I could bear.

Even as we drove home, the sunset just kept happening.  We couldn't help pulling the car over to the side of the road to take more pictures.  I'm sorry I'm not a better photographer, because the sky was just unbelievable!

Just when I thought it couldn't possibly be more majestic, the sky would completely astound me, unfolding into some new, divine form.

And finally, it was over, and all that remained was the familiar darkness of the night.

The Flame Dancing

"Everything moves, everything flows."

--Heraclitus

"Sunset, Reflected" oil painting by Maurice Sapiro

"Everything moves, everything flows, said Heraclitus.  

The body of the mourning cloak is like a river.  You can't step in the same river twice.  

The world we live in is a flame; we burn in it, we are burning all the time.  The mourning cloak burns like the tongues of the Paraclete, anointing the seasons.  The rocks burn with a slow, steady flame.  

If we could see the flame dancing on the bush, as Moses saw, if we could see every bush, every tree, burning all the time, every twig tipped with flame, the wind, the river, the constant flow of atoms,

we would wonder that anything endures."

 

--The Soul of the Night by Chet Raymo

(one of my very favorite books)

 

a sunset painting by Maurice Sapiro