Surfaces

I have been sick with the flu, and today, the Spring Equinox, is the first day in a bit that I feel human. I am sorry that I am late with this post, but sometimes circumstances force me to slow down. I am trying to get back into the swing of things, and I thought I would start with this blog, which seems perfect on Spring Equinox.

One thing an artist is always considering is what type of surface to do their work upon. Will it be on canvas, paper or board? Or will the artist work with metal , wood, or clay are a few of the many, many possibilities we all consider.

For me the surface is as important as the oil pastels or acrylic paints I use to create the image. It is the base, the foundation for what I wish to share with others. If the surface can't support what I wish to share, it will crumble and be of no use to anyone. I personally like to work on white surfaces, because of how it keeps my colors true to their nature. I like to work on a smooth surface and build my own texture. The surface excites me, because it invites me, challenges me, and provides an opportunity to create. It also can become my psychiatrist, because that surface makes me face my fears, problems and all of those hidden items that we all try to avoid. It also becomes a place for me to share my spiritual experiences....

A week ago we headed to Moab, but this time we were on the other side of the river from where I shot the video showing all of the petroglyphs. Why that surface? Why those rocks? Well, they are amazingly beautiful as they dramatically erupt straight for the sky while skating along the river's edge. But what else caused them to work there?

Well, they are smooth....they are warm. Most of the petroglyphs are south facing. The Old Ones wanted to share their stories with the sun. Even when the sun leaves us during the winter, we can still feel its warmth when we face south. The rock is very smooth. I doubt they had to do much of any work to smooth it out enough to create their mysterious masterpieces. There is also quite a bit of desert varnish/patina on the rock, which creates a black surface over the red rock. It creates a dramatic look without ever having to bring out any type of mineral to paint with. They simply peck through the black and find the red. They perfectly illuminate each other.

I think these petroglyphs tell many stories. There are stories about migrations, offerings, ceremonies, hunts, dancing, animals, and clan affiliations that once lived there. The interesting thing is that when they are in the sun, it isn't so easy to see them. The best time to look at them is in the morning, before the sun climbs too high into the sky. This is what makes me think they are sharing their stories with the sun.

However, just as that thought passes through my mind, the reflection of the sun dancing upon the river water is mirrored upon the rocks. These rocks are also where they whispered their gratitude for the gift of life that the river and all of the natural springs provided them. The sun and water dance upon these rocks. Moab is an amazing place; hot desert filled with water, springs and waterfalls.

Where would I paint if I wanted to share my stories with the sun and river? It would be right over there....in the warmth, along the beautiful, flowing, Colorado River. How can one be here and not want to speak with the Two at the same time? They are sacred, and the rocks are the perfect surface to reflect this.

I spend a lot of time hiking in the forest not far from my home. I wonder what would be a natural surface for me to work on to reflect my feelings and experiences for this forest? I don't know right now. I will get back to you on that maybe in my next post.

Sacred Art/ Sacred Language

This has been a very difficult weekend, but it seems to be the best time to go public with a new body of artwork that I want to embark on.

I live in Western Colorado on the edge of the Ancients. If I head west or South, it is hard to not stumble upon some sign of an Ancient world. It has captivated me, spoken to me for years. Many years ago an elder adopted me, and when I asked him about the meaning of some petroglyphs I recently discovered, and he told me I already knew. What? I didn't have a clue what they meant, but he insisted I did. This planted a small seed within me that has been slowly germinating for years.

Walking through canyons and deserts I've come to realize that as much as I enjoy and appreciate the artistic value of all the petroglyphs and pictographs, they really are not art in the modern sense of the word. They are a language. They are the first written language upon this continent and all over the world.

I want to embark on a journey of new artwork where I try to rediscover within myself my own sacred language. My relatives come from France, and who knows, maybe they were one of the people that wrote upon the Lascaux caves. Maybe my Ancestors are whispering to my heart.

For whatever reason, I feel that this is important. I keep seeing images of unplugging a television from a wall with the words written above, "In order to reconnect, you must first disconnect."

Art has always been about communication I believe, but back then it was an actual language; just ask the Hopi. In the book Canyon Spirits, Florence Lister writes, "Some scholars argue that the rock are left on craggy canyon faces, the polychromatic murals painted on kiva walls, and the geometric and naturalistic patterns laid on ceramic vessels were a form of written language in being messages to the spirit world." Scientists aren't allowed to make creative leaps to understanding what is upon all the rocks in our region, but artists are not limited by those rules.

Art is about emotional expression or sharing a scene that we love. It is storytelling to some degree, but when you stand underneath a huge panel covered in images along the Colorado River, you know that something much deeper is going on. Archaeologists believes that only the shamans did the actual writing upon the rocks, at least among the Fremont People,

because they discovered pigments buried with the shamans. I believe writing was a sacred act. The power of an image can create or it can destroy.

Fritz Scholder was one of my favorite artists. He said that in this time we need more Shamanic artists. I believe he said this because he saw how disconnected we are becoming from Nature. Maybe this body of work will help some find their way back.

Lighthouse on a Foggy Night

"Ouch!" I yelled after cutting myself on a nail. My hand was bleeding, and the area of the cut immediately began to throb. I didn't need eyes to know immediately where I was hurt. The pain told me, my body told me, and I listened intently. I knew that I needed to do something, so I immediately went to wash and bandage it. Pain told me exactly where I was wounded and helped me identify exactly what I needed to do. to keep it from becoming infected and how to take care of it. I simply had to listen to it.

Why is it that we only do this for those moments when we experience physical pain and not for those emotional/mental moments when we scream out in pain? Why don't we listen? I remember once falling backwards on my skates knocking all of the air out of me. The fall didn't scare me as much as the fact that I couldn't breath. I started to cry, and immediately I was told that big girls don't cry. That hurt me even more than the fall. I felt uncared for. We are taught to swallow our pain and then do what we have to do to not admit that we are even feeling it. We run from it. We try to bury it. We smother it with food, drugs and alcohol, and no matter what we do, it remains right there screaming, "Ouch!"

The more we run and say "No" to it, the louder the scream gets. It seems to haunt us, and if we choose to use drugs or alcohol to drown it out, it works temporarily, but soon the scream comes back even louder.

For others our pain is a shield or a badge of honor to carry around to show everyone. They relieve their stories over and over as they show their shields to all they meet. You might think they are listening to their pain, but they really aren't to what their pain is trying to tell them. They simply are addicted to their stories and love sharing them over and over again, so they can gather all the attention they need to feel validated.

We are a world that is addicted to the fear of our pain, and those fears are making horrible choices. We see it every single night on the news. We see it in our own families and relationships; the wreckage and destruction caused by the fears of our pain.

So what is our pain trying to tell us? "Ouch!" It is saying, "I am hurt, and I need you to help me heal it." When we ignore it, it festers and becomes an infection like any physical wound. It spreads into many areas of our lives. You might think that it is absolutely impossible to heal now and it is best to keep running. However, there is an antibiotic for these emotional and mental wounds, and it is the word, "yes."

Yes means that you are not running away, and you are choosing to believe in yourself. It means that you are standing in place looking directly into the eyes of your pain. Yes means that you are asking it what it needs to be healed. Yes means that you are beginning to listen to your needs and take your power back from your fears.

I ran for many years, and it got me no where. I thought the next curve in the road would reveal a much better life. However, that was a pipe dream. The moment that I stopped saying no to myself and found the strength to say yes, I knew that I could survive it. I listened, and I began to heal just in that simple act. I took the necessary steps to support my healing process that my pain told me it needed. Like physical pain I found the correct emotional and mental bandages that allowed my wounds to once and for all heal. Pain is a like the lighthouse on a foggy night. It is the light that will guide us to the exact place we need to be in order to heal.

What it all comes down to is the choice between two words: No and Yes. Which one will you say to yourself when you hurt? I challenge you to sit down with yourself with as much compassion as you would for a dear friend. Allow yourself to find forgiveness, love and a gentle place within your heart to find your way through this. Give yourself permission to be there for yourself.

Sleeping With The Earth

Last night I had a dream, and it's a dream that opened my eyes in a new way. In my dream I slowly sunk deep into the soil of the Earth. Instead of feeling scared, I felt safe. The Earth smelled of that Spring soil that I love to dig into after the winter thaw melts away. I saw seeds being planted and the roots emerge from the seedling as the sprout shoots through the Earth towards the sky. I saw how the roots took in nutrients to feed the sprout as it grew stronger and stronger, but I also saw how the roots gave back to the Earth; nourishing Her as well. Suddenly, I saw this seed planted deep into the Earth, but it grew differently. It seemed angry, painful...fear was in it. Instead of green, it was covered in a sludge. It spread rapidly. It grew at a pace that did not seem natural whatsoever. More and more of these seeds were planted, and it seemed like the healthier seeds were losing ground. They were malignant seeds planted by angry words, violent actions, greed, depression, and fear. Suddenly, the more healthy seeds descended into the soil, as if a collective healing thought was being planted, and I watched it take over all of the malignant seeds. The stronger and healthier the seed, the stronger it was against the malignancies. I saw it go back and forth several times, and if the malignant seeds seemed to be gaining strength, the Earth Mother would call in the rains, droughts, or shake; She would do whatever She needed to do to find balance. This was the end of the dream.

I believe this dream is showing the horrible emotional storms we are creating through vehement, personal attacks upon others simply because of our own fears. For me this dream is challenging me to become even more aware of my thoughts; that if I want to see the change, I need to live it by example.

I hope this all finds you well and in a good place....

Seeds of Life

While roaming around Ancestral Pueblo (Anasazi) sites, I saw this image....a hand extending out from a building offering corn seeds to me. I realized how each one contained knowledge and lessons for life. An entire story came in with this painting, which I am working on recording for the book...but this I can say...as a gardener, the mysteries of life are all revealed within the growth of a seed. I really have no idea what causes one seed to sprout and another to remain dormant. There are a few basic ingredients that I give it such as soil, sun, and water, but it is up to the seed as to whether or not it will grow. I always offer prayers that I was taught to say upon planting a seed. I was once asked, "What are you going to plant with that seed? What exactly do you wish to see grow?"

When it does sprout, I see how strongly it fights for life, how it reaches for Pappa Sky and how deeply its young roots grow into the Earth. I see how it accepts whatever help I may try to share with it. It doesn't say "no" or push me away. I also learn how I need to give it the space to do what it needs to do. If I crowd it, I could break its delicate stem. As it continues to grow, I become a witness to determination and flexibility. The spring winds here are so strong, yet the new plant doesn't lose its balance as it flows with the winds. I learn about creation as it reaches its goal and it blooms sharing its beauty with all of life. The bees, hummingbirds and butterflies all share in its bounty as do we. How can one not take joy in the beauty of a sunflower or the sweetness of corn?

These are a few of the things to think about....Will you take a seed of corn? If so, what kind of prayers or thoughts will you plant with that seed? What will you grow?

Lessons from a Porcupine

The other day I was feeling frustrated and stuck. I live in a very small, beautiful community that doesn't really provide me a lot of opportunities. I would love to open my own gallery, but I just don't see it happening here. Watching the news and hearing about the stalled economic recovery agitated me even more. I took off for the woods just to get away from myself. I blocking myself each step of the way with my own thoughts. I needed to escape me.

I headed down a long forgotten road that the Forest Service closed off years ago. I barely could see where it once was, but I didn't care. I decided to simply follow the path my heart wanted to take, and it was heading straight for a stand of firs way off in the distance.

My steps at the beginning were frustrated and clumsy, but as the aroma of the land started to penetrate my thick cloud of thought, I slowed down and began to see what was around me. My heart opened up to the environment, and I felt my frustration begin to melt away.

I shifted from focusing upon what I thought was lacking in my own life to what I had. How lucky was I? I can drive ten minutes from my house and find myself in this beautiful place? Deep in the woods without any sounds of humans and surrounded by a forest and mountains that I dreamed about as a child. Yes, things are tough, but I love the land. I love it here.

I sat down in a circle of firs and looked up towards the sky taking it all in. That is when I heard the sound....a loud rustling in the trees not too far from me. I wasn't scared but I wasn't thrilled. I wondered if my heart led me to a not so great choice. That is when Mr. Porcupine came stumbling out from behind a tree and into the clearing I happened to be in. He took a look at me, sniffed the air, and then went about his business.

Porcupines will leave you alone if they don't think you are a threat, and he obviously decided that I was not one. He totally ignored me and in a childlike wonderment began exploring everything around us. He would sniff the grass, dig into it, taste it, look at it from different angles and then move on. His favorite find was an old tree that fell years ago. Part of it was hollowed out, and his curiousity dragged him into that hollow. Boy did he have fun looking at it, feeling it, and checking it out in every which way. He climbed in...he then backed up and stood at the entrance and looked in...he then climbed on top of the log with a little bit of difficulty and looked into it...he went back in and started exploring what he found in there. Every which way he could, he became intimately connected with that fallen tree. He reminded me of me when I was a little girl, and how every magical aspect of life needed to be explored.

As I watched him I started thinking about how we all need to approach life with a bit of porcupine's curiousity. Instead of thinking that there is one main way of doing things, we need to remember and call forward our childhood wonder of things. Let it explore our situation and look at it from all different angles, in all lights, and see if we discover any new ways to approach the situation that is frustrating us; whether it is a piece of art or what to do with our art, jobs, selling our homes, how to survive in this economy, or whatever is perplexing us in this moment. There are so many different paths that lead us to the same place.
And there are paths that haven't been walked upon in years, or paths that we never thought about forging. Let that little kid explore!

So as I write this, I have my notebook next to me. I am writing down all of the different ways I can achieve the things I wish to achieve. I am looking at it from all sorts of angles, and I am realizing, I don't need to do things the way I thought. There are many more, interesting possibilities.

I hope this finds you all well...

Sprialing In a New Painting

I have been very sick for a few days, which is unusual for me. Rarely do I get sick even though everyone around me is. I fully surrendered to it this time around, and slept for almost three days straight. I had several dreams, but there is one that stood out. It had to do with painting; a painting that we all take part in through our life.

I saw everyone being born into the center of a spiral. In this place, everyone was still fully connected with the Divine and their true nature. However, as life began to develop, each and everyone of us began to walk around the spiral outwards away from our center. There were different stops along the way for all of us where an image was painted onto us by others or situations we experienced. We let these images be painted onto us, because we were trying to survive, learn or simply we wanted to please the ones we love in our life. We were given instructions by the adults in our life that told us how to behave and what to do, and we accepted those instructions into our lives; thus adding more to the mosaic that others were creating for us.

As we progressed along in our lives, we started adding to the painting ouselves every time we heard or spoke the word "should" regarding how to live our lives. Each time something new gets added to this painting, we get further and further away from who we really are and what we are really supposed to do with our lives while here. All of the colors used are muddy with some brilliant splashes of color here and there as we briefly connect with who we really are.

Something happens that wakes some of us up, and we turn towards the center of the spiral. We begin walking back towards our true nature spiraling in, and we start peeling off all of those muddy colors. Things become clearer, and we choose brighter, richer colors to paint ourselves with as we become reacquainted with who we really are.

If we are lucky, in this life, we make it back to the very center of who we are, and oh my goodness, the paintings I saw were so amazing. They were beyond what any human could ever try to create. I woke up in tears at the beauty I saw and the inner potential that we all hold within. We truly can be amazing the moment we begin to let go of everyone else's definitions of who we are and try to figure it all out on our own. Then I saw how this once again spirals out and causes so much of life to heal and find balance again....

Surrender those masks, let go of those "should's"....and begin painting/dreaming in a better way of life.