The Soul's Assignment

Last night, I finished this painting at ten o'clock at night. I'd worked all day and cared for my family in the evening. But I pushed myself off the couch, and put brush to canvas often enough to complete the piece, because it inspired me. Only a painting of Soul inspires this kind of dedication.

I am not religious, though I've tried to be. If you want to talk about God, I won't know what to say most days. But I know my own Soul, as everyone must. That is what this painting depicts. At the end of the process of creating this painting, I stepped back and saw it as a sort-of-self-portrait. 

While I worked out the lines on this painting, I thought I saw the faces of those I love come out, time and again; maybe this is because we are all a part of each other. In the end, I saw the contours of my own spirit.

When I create from a deeper state of being, I am filled with such joy, such gentleness, that I can hardly believe it. But the world can be so ruthless, and it's not easy to put down the sword and reconnect with this part of myself sometimes. When I do, I am so grateful for the effort.

A question: if you could see your Soul, what would it look like?

An assignment: now make art that looks like what you see.

Art Is a Serious Thing

Coming out as an artist is a big deal to most of us; even in progressive families, this vocation is seen as flaky and superfluous. One relative commented to me years ago while I volunteered to sit a gallery, “If I was going to volunteer, I’d do it for something that matters.” I felt a stab of pain when she said this. What I loved didn’t matter to her. She made me feel silly. Probably all artists have a similar story- and wound.

However, art is a serious thing. Fine art generates real income in the areas where it’s shown. Art galleries usually gentrify any urban district they inhabit. Studies done in Chicago a decade and a half ago for ArtSpace documented how art galleries encourage urban redevelopment in decaying areas by bringing in patrons with interest and resources.

Restaurants, coffee houses, bars and retail spaces inevitably open in art districts to service patrons. Downtown Portland’s Pearl District is a shining example of this fact- having brought a downtrodden district into the light of prosperity and popularity because of the cooperation of art galleries, and the events they sponsor.

North Bank Artists Gallery, the gallery I work for, had this thought in mind when opening its doors ten years ago. What followed it are more galleries, restaurants, bars, and retail spaces. Downtown Vancouver, WA isn’t where we want it yet, but it’s getting there; and the Art District is a key component to growing success.

Now, when I hear the arts dismissed as unnecessary, I shake my head. Those of us in the arts understand our inherent value to our local economies as well as the soul of our communities. It takes some resolve to fight back against the misconception that the arts aren’t serious. But we do fight back, by showing results.

Repurposing a canvas for my new life

The first year I was married, I painted a wedding portrait of my ex and me for our bedroom. In it, we were hugging, and our wedding vows were scribed to the right. Over the years, I repainted the piece a few times because it never looked correct. The colors were wrong, the angle wasn’t right, and the faces were stiff and false. Nine months ago, I painted the canvas black, erasing countless hours of work.

I sketched a woman flying in the center of the canvas, but never finished the painting. This seemed wrong, too. Nothing about divorce feels like flying. I put the canvas away and thought about it some more.

A few days ago, I picked up my brush and repainted the whole thing. The result is this seal painting. It was all done in black, white, and blue. Above the gentle creature is a storm blowing in, and around it is water and rock. The feeling of being cast out to sea I experienced for months rings true in this piece.

At long last, this piece of cotton canvas on wood with acrylic is more than the sum of its parts: it’s an honest statement. Finally, I feel like I got something right, if only the repurposing of a wedding portrait.

Unlike writing, which is premonitory, art happens after the fact. I couldn’t paint how I felt at the time of the separation and divorce; I had to process the emotions first, and then find a suitable image to express them. Art is like hindsight: 20/20.

I like this piece, as I love my new life. They’re wild and fluid and free….but safely contained within parameters. I guess I feel I’ve been repurposed, too.

Where to Go from Here

I haven't painted in weeks. Partly, I'm abstaining because my studio is moving soon, and my supplies are split between three locations. Also, I feel tapped out artistically and in need of rest. Typically July is my busiest time, but this year I think I'll let the flowers fade un-canvassed. Withdrawing into the world of words, I'm letting those more sensory-based expressions wait.

When I go back to work, I hope I am brave enough to explore the painful emotions of my divorce with paint. I've written about it; yet those sentences and paragraphs hide within them deeper truths. If I want to confuse someone, I speak quickly. It's in silence I reveal. Painting is all about silence.

This half-finished work of a naked woman birthed from a box is collecting dust on an easel. Beneath it is my cat, looking relaxed. I'm feeling more like the cat than the woman right now, but this season of recline will transmute to action. It always does.

Living an art-full life

Not everyone has the inclination to paint, sculpt, or take photos. Many people simply don't have the time to create something new to be shared with others in the way of arts and crafts. To be an artist is to sacrifice time, money, and energy for something that may never make wealth. In short, it's not for everyone. I get that.

However, art doesn't need to be something one does, but rather a way of being in the world. Seeing beauty, encouraging it, and honoring it is every bit as precious and life-affirming as actually pressing brush to canvas, for those with the mind to conceive it.

Gardening is a perfect example of how many people who would never call themselves artists create an art-full life. This peony pictured above is something I'm quite proud of. I figured out to fertilize the stem of the plant before it went to blossom, so that when the buds came on, they were huge. My peony blooms this year were nearly as big as my head. I couldn't be more pleased. To me, this is an art-full life.

Cooking, baking, and caring for one's home are also ways to experience art as a way of being, not simply a product. A flourish with spices, a thorough cleaning, or a mindful way of decorating living space are all ways to express the spirit in form, which is all art is.

I encourage everyone to think about what they do, and add some soul to it...this way creating art out of everyday action. See where it goes....it could be surprising.

The Artist's Mind Like a Child's

The other day, my older son asked me to listen to NPR with him on his radio. There was an article he thought I'd be interested in; it was about a study done by neurologists showing children lose the ability to do art in the second or third grade. The scientists explained that to do art, an artist must maintain the brain function of a small child...seeing the world as fresh, and discovering novelty in familiar things. It was fascinating.

I've never expressed this idea to myself in plain terms, but have absolutely felt the rightness in the observation while I work. The challenge in doing figurative art is to communicate the image to the viewer in a way that has never been done before...like reinventing the wheel. How do I make the viewer see this rose I am painting as if for the first time? I ask myself.

The trick to the task is feeling like you've never seen the subject before. You can't achieve this by looking directly at an object: you must look at it sideways, upside down, bottom side up, etc... You must shake out your ideas about something and find new ones.

I've noticed many artists are childlike in a way, and I'm sure some people close to me would complain I am, too. To create, I must be single-minded, persistent, demanding, and relentless until I'm done. Once a painting is complete, I nearly forget about it and move on to the next thing. I don't hold on to much for long because it is the process that thrills me, and usually not the end result. I'm like a kid in this way.

Holding on to the ability to think flexibly is probably the greatest gift of being an artist. If something doesn't work one way, then try another way. Be dynamic, be new, be young at heart, and in the mind.

Showing Work When You’re Insecure

Sunday was a mad rush to get four paintings framed and hardwared for a group show this week. I’d meant to do it sooner, but life intervened the last two weeks, as it so often does. The show’s called Artists Among Us, at Trinity Cathedral on NW Everett in Portland, in case you’re out on the town and looking for art this next weekend.

Readying my work, my mind was filled with negative thoughts.

What if the artistic director hates these paintings?

What if the frames don’t look right?

What if one gets damaged on the way to the show?

On and on, the insecure thoughts droned until the paintings were delivered at noon today. Frankly, this is an improvement for how crazy I used to get before a show, when I’d be irritable for two weeks before a hanging. Now I give myself 24 hours to freak out and no more.

Truthfully, most artists are insecure, and we desperately crave compliments. No matter how many times I’ve shown, how many nice comments I’ve received, or how many pieces I’ve sold…I still feel weak as a kitten before I put my work on walls.

This could be a good thing: desperate and incurable insecurity. Artists who get lazy can sometimes make crap… self-indulgent stuff. It’s important to stay scared, and to always wonder how an audience will receive the newest thing. It keeps us honest.

This show has two receptions, one for friends and family and a gala event, and so I have two evenings to wring my hands over. On the bright side, it’s a wonderfully gracious group of people at Trinity, and so I am sure I’ll be received warmly.

I'll surely give compliments to the other artists, and encourage them to stay brave. We need to do this for each other, because nearly all of us feel insecure, from time to time. Those of us who do this have to find the strength to endure self-doubt and show anyway.