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.

Fire....

I have always been fascinated by fire. There is so much power in it....the power that creates such destruction yet creates new life. I fought fires for years in the forests, and I found myself at times standing there in absolute awe of what it created. It is a living being that creates the conditions it needs to live. A fire, when it gets big enough, can generate its own wind storms, it's only lightning to feed it, to keep it moving, to keep it consuming. When you stand within those fire created storms, you realize how powerless you really are. It is a humbling and beautiful moment...and it can be terrifying.

The last fire I worked on was Los Alamos, and it broke my heart to see all of those homes destroyed. I worked on the Los Alamos grounds for most of the night, and the next day they assigned me to put out some hotspots in the area where the houses burned. We were digging, tearing apart...basically doing what we had to do to make sure it didn't flare up again. A bus drove the owners of those homes by us. I will never forget the looks on their faces as I stood in the rubble. Devestation, tears, anger and shock were a few of the emotions that roamed across their faces. I felt so much guilt for digging into what was left of their life in that moment. I walked away after that fire.

That doesn't mean I still don't feel that call, and now I do more than ever. There is a fire burning a few miles from my home. I watched it grow to a major blaze within a few minutes. Our winds were between 50-70mph. They are climbing to the same today. We had to go to Montrose, so somehow they let us drive into the canyon. Bill drove next to an oak brush that suddenly flared up, and the flames licked the side of the truck. The heat filled the cab, and I knew we needed to get out of there. I saw this before, and I knew what was coming.

My sadness grew through the evening. However, it is yet another lesson from nature, from the river for me and everyone about impermanence. Nothing lasts forever, even those places that mean so much to us; that inspire us and create so many beautiful memories. Fire washes the colors out and bathes the landscape in varying shades of greys, and I must say that those grays are beautiful...such different shades with hues of blues and yellows and purples. Greens always emerge where the fire didn't touch. I can see the different ways in which the fire moved and danced through the canyon and into another. A living being doing its dance of destruction and creation.

We seem to forget this...wherever there is destruction, something new is born. I watch the oil spill, and my heart breaks with the gulf. I am crying tears for it, for the canyon, but I do know that nature is amazingly resilient. I do know that she will bring life back to places we think it is not possible. All we have to do for reminders of this is look to Mt. St. Helens where the side of a dead mountain is now filled with life again. That doesn't mean we don't take responsibility for our errors and do what we need to do on our side of it to clean up the mess...to reseed...to save lives of the animals affected....but I do know she will come back.

As I stood in the canyon looking, crying, I heard the sweet melody of the river flowing by and many, many birds singing along to her tune. I know that life will keep flowing in whatever way She creates it....

Earth Day and Art

Today is Earth Day. The first time I celebrated this day as an adult I was living in New York City. They closed down 6th Avenue/Avenue of the Americas for several blocks in Midtown and booths abounded everywhere about everything. Much was about recycling, planting trees, alternative energies, philosophy, politics and spirituality. It was an amazing day for these young eyes that felt like they were at the best feast of knowledge one could find. I bought several books, signed up for countless newsletters, and headed to Central Park to watch the free concert put on by the B-52's. Not one arrest that day, and everyone was in such a joyous, festive mood. It was fantastic!

As a kid I was always hiking in the canyon behind my elementary school looking for the mountain lion that everyone talked about, exploring the plants, smelling the wild flowers, and simply sitting and watching everything. My parents often took us caming in Oak Creek Canyon, and for me that was like heading into the mystical forests created by J.R. R. Tolkein. Of course lets not forget my beloved ocean that I spent countless days of my childhood exploring. To this day I can never get enough of simply closing my eyes and letting my other senses take over; the sounds of the waves, the smell of the salty water, the sounds of the seagulls, the natural pull and push of the ocean...I may have grown up in a city, but I was always an outdoors type of person. When I went to that Earth Day Festival in New York City, I got the itch to one day live in the woods, to let all of those concrete towers go in favor of lush trees, bears, soaring eagles, and the mountain lion that I was always trying to find.

I just got back from my daily hike into the Colorado woods, and I can't even begin to tell you my love for trees. Yes, I am a tree hugger through and through simply because I love them. They are amazing, and every time I gaze upon them, I think of our interconnection, how everything in this world needs one another; that mystical, spiritual web of life. Those beloved trees of mine create oxygen (as do all of the trees within the ocean), so we can continue to breath, and what we exhale keeps them alive. We need one another. We are part of Nature whether you want to accept that or not. We might seem so different from it all, but if you really spend some time in a park, at the zoo, in the woods, or by the ocean you will see how similar we all really are.

My art has always been about this connection, whether I knew it or not. The seeds were planted in my early childhood, and they didn't begin to grow until after my divorce from my first husband. That is when I finally gave permission to that little kid in me to start talking and expressing herself. I think ever since then I tried to show the similarities that we all share rather than the differences in hopes that it will create more compassion and loving kindness as we walk upon this Earth. Maybe someone will start recycling, maybe someone will donate money to protect the lions that are losing their habitats and are endangered....maybe someone will install a flourescent light bulb instead of the old fashioned kind. These are some of the hopes and prayers that I put into my paintings.

The differences? Oh, how these need to be appreciated and loved. What makes us different is where we can learn the most...where that compassion we just developed gets put to the test and grow stronger and stronger. The differences are where we develop true appreciation. They are nothing to be frightened of or anything that needs to generate hate or violence. They simply are there to help us broaden our horizons, explore and accept. That is when we truly walk back into our natural skins.

By the way, I came face to face with that mountain lion many years ago, and she was more beautiful than I ever imagined as a child.

So on this Earth Day what will you do to put the Earth first?

Creating Something New From the Ashes

I have grown to despise the word "should". It is a word that has haunted me all of my life, and I think it has most people. It is a word that when you break free of, so many amazing things can come in.

I hear a lot of people talking about how they want to totally get rid of an aspect of themselves, because they simply can't stand living that way anymore. I totally understand this except for the part of wanting to get rid of that aspect. Yes, that is a should whenever we think in absolutes.

Every part of you is amazing. Every part of you is a piece of a puzzle, and each piece is needed to create the whole picture or painting or sculpture. Yes, along the way we may have picked up some tools, or ways in which we react, that aren't always the most functional or healing. In fact, they create a lot of dysfunction and pain in our lives, so you are probably wondering why I would say to not get rid of it right?

Well, I am a firm believer in transformation. Living here in the Rocky Mountains, I watch transformation everyday. Nature again has been my teacher. I watch the seasons give way to one another. I see how the vibrant bud becomes an emerald green leaf, which eventually turns to yellow and red. When Winter arrives, it is finally brown and it falls from the tree to the ground where it continues to transform into soil. The butterfly first starts out as a caterpillar, creates a cocoon where it turns within two weeks into a miraculous butterfly. Everywhere you look, you will see signs of transformation.

I say don't get rid of, but embrace those aspects of you that you want to get rid of since they will be your greatest teacher. Sit down with them, treat them as you would a friend who is suffering, listen to the story, and when compassion walks into your heart, you will begin to see how to transform this aspect of yourself from something dysfunctional to functional, from something that causes pain to something that heals, and finally you won't be walking around with a big gaping hole in your life. You are now that butterfly flying around from flower to flower.

I recently faced such a moment in my life. I have been creating a lot of muck in the studio. It happens when something new wants to come out of me into the world. However, in order to let this happen, there is something I usually need to face. For me it was all of those "should's" that so many people lovingly poured upon me when I first started working as a professional artist. I admit that I was very insecure, and I listened. I listened way too well. I heard such things as I should only paint flowers, I should only paint animals, I should give up using oil pastels and only work with oil paints, and the list goes on an on.

My husband brought home a piece of copper to me during this time that he rescued from the trash. He thought I could turn it into a piece of art. I listened to one of those should's and I painted sunflowers on one side of it. However, on the other side of it, I painted my prayers without being fully aware of it. Well, I hated that piece of copper when I was done, and I stared at it for three years wondering what in the world I would ever do with it.

Suddenly, last week I knew that I needed to destroy it and then recreate from whatever survived. It was my way of transforming all of those "should's" into "could's" or possibilities. I got out a hammer, a dremel tool, and a torch. There are a lot of ways to work with copper properly, and I'll be honest, I didn't do any of them. I lightly sanded the surface leaving the paint on, but creating a texture for something to hold onto if need be. I then started working without any preconcieved ideas, and I haven't felt this free and trusting of myself in a long time. What it became is really unique, and it is something I am very happy with. I am hoping to continue working with copper and to keep turning caterpillars into butterflies.

I am calling these suncatchers.

Absorbing

Yesterday was an interesting day. We took our niece to Moab for some hikes and warmth. Our first stop was Moonglow Canyon. It is along the Colorado River, and recedes from the road into a magical canyon. The Anasazi once did ceremonies here as is evidenced by the beautiful art at the opening.

I don't know why I do this, but sometimes when I go into places such as this, I go deep into an altered state. I am mesmerized by the Spirit of the land, I can feel the ceremonies of days gone by, and everywhere I look, I see art....Great Mystery painting Her/His Soul upon the heart of the Earth Mother.

I become silent and wander off by myself as I gaze into all of these paintings....patterns in the soil, brushstrokes through the rocks, light and water dancing with one another, and yesterday I saw the remnants of Fall touching the newness of Spring.

I can feel myself walking in the tracks of the Ancient Ones, and yesterday I heard their whispers. We think they are gone, but no they are still with us; guiding us if we open our hearts to them.

Yesterday I deeply pondered the direction of my art, and They kept showing me the possibilities.

Then as if to snap me out of it, we went for a hike up to Delicate Arch in Arches National Park. The winds were stong, and the sand blasted my skin clean until it was raw and stung in my sweat. I wanted to turn back, but I was determined to make it up the hill.

Inching along a narrow rock path cut into the side of a cliff, I had no idea what was waiting for me out in the open. 60mph winds nearly blew me off the cliff. I instantly was snapped out of the altered reality of Moonglow back into the natural instinct of life. I crouched down and took some pictures, because darnit all I climbed up that rock! I stood up again, and I felt like the wind was actually lifting me up off the ground. A woman grabbed me, and I crouched back down. I was done. I was fully back in my body, and I wanted off that rock! I told Bill I was leaving, and I descended like a bat out of hell.

The entire day was a journey through so many realms of existence that somehow will find their way into my artwork and life....I am so grateful for it all...

Natural Abstraction Yet Form

I hike all over the place here in Western Colorado and Eastern Utah. I have a husband who loves to stop the car and jump out as do I. We have found some really interesting spots around here, and while he is off looking for who knows what, I am always studying patterns.

I love to look at the ice especially around Moab. The patterns that form in conjunction with the red rocks are amazing. They always take my breath away. I love to watch how the snow here in Western Colorado sparkles in the sunlight and turns into shades of blue and purples in the shade forming these gently curving patterns of color. I love to look at the rocks that have been carved by the river...with all of their interesting colors and shapes...the patterns that the water forms.

This weekend I stumbled across an old tree that fell long ago protruding through the hardened ice of spring. Upon it were the most interesting designs carved by ice, snow, rain, wind and sun...I was mesmerized, and while Bill was off playing in the river, I knelt beside it in awe. It was beautiful. It was amazing...it was a stunning piece of artwork carved by nature, carved by Spirit...carved by the beauty of the seasons. As artists, we have struggled for so long to obliterate form, to move away from it and plunge into the void of abstraction and freedom. However, as I gazed at this old tree, I realized that abstraction exists within form....they exist side by side and there is no need to obliterate one to find the other.

Humans are a species of absolutes; rarely do we allow ourselves to enjoy the wonder of the Paradox. My elder once told me that whenever I found a Paradox, I found a truth. I do believe this, and I believe this old tree taught me a Paradox today..... abstraction and form....no need to separate...enjoy and celebrate the uniqueness in which both can be expressed.