Be Like Leo - Step One

"Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.”  Albert Einstein

Long time collaborator Mavis Penney and I have, from time to time, read the same books together for both pleasure and elucidation, sharing points we've been challenged by or disagreed with. It's been great for me to use brain cells that might not be used otherwise. Recently we agreed to read Michael Gelb's book, "How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci".  For fun we're inviting you to join us in this conversation.

This is not a Cliff's Notes version of Gelb's book. My intention is not to critique Gelb's research or writing style. The purpose of this study is to examine what one author has determined to be a system to which one might subscribe, the goal of which is to improve one's investment in their world. And that's a really convoluted way of saying that we're taking a look at Gelb's recipe for getting more out of each day, and for going to bed with a bit more satisfaction than we had yesterday.
 
My first thought at Mavis' suggestion for reading this book was, "Sure!" After all, who wouldn't like to think like the greatest thinker of all time? I'm in!"  Creator of the first flying machine, sculptor, painter, scientist, architect and all around ponderer of just about everything, Leonardo is considered one of the greatest minds since, well, ever.  Leonardo da Vinci is the primary example of human potential in the realm of discovery and renaissance thinking. For the next 7 weeks, this blog will focus on each of Gelb's "steps" for enhancing our inner Leonardo.  Will I march into March able to understand algebra, or the theory behind atomic energy?  Probably not. But I - and you if you choose to come along - will hopefully use these exercises to expand our horizons just a bit to include a new sense of wonder and appreciation for the world in which we live.  

How does one achieve the kind of status given to Leonardo Da Vinci?  You're thinking "Sure, get someone to pay me to do nothing but think all day and I could come up with some pretty cool stuff, too." Let's just get this on the table right off the bat, shall we?  Let's agree that Leonardo lived in a special time.  It was safe to think outside the box and test new theories after centuries of heavy handed control condemning anything approaching enlightenment.  Da Vinci also had benefactors, which allowed him the time and resources to ponder deeply anything that caught his attention. 

Even at that, he was different than the average 15th Century guy.  Why?

Gelb says the first step to thinking like Leonardo is to be curious. About everything.

Are you? And why not?

Today we are repeatedly clobbered with alarms, bells, whistles, and warnings to slow down, hurry up and move over. Elevators have music to chase away the intense boredom that sweeps over us during the several seconds - seconds - that we wait to arrive at the next floor. Children, youth and adults focus on tiny little electronic hand-held games and gadgets to fill the spaces between jobs, games, dance lessons and real conversations. From the time they can stand upright and alone, children are whisked off to lessons, games and pageants for "learning experiences".  Which leads me to education, which is not learning at all, but "outcomes".  Who would Leonardo Da Vinci have been had he been born  in the last 60 years?  That's something to think about.

We don't have time to be curious. More honestly, we don't take time.  (Using Google  to flit around from link to link chasing information doesn't count as curiosity.)

Gelb invites us, in a series of exercises and assignments, to take that time.  To pay attention.  To pause and ask: how?  Why?  What color?  How did it get that way? And when?

Curiosita.  Take time, unplug and s l o w  d o w n.  Wonder about something, anything.  A shadow. A texture.  A rule.  A religion. Allow that question to form.  You don't even have to dash out and find the answer, at least not yet.  For now allow wonder and interest to develop and grow.

Your thoughts?

"When you're curious, you find lots of interesting things to do.”     Walt Disney

Moving Forward

In the spirit of last week's post (where've I been, where'm I going?), I'm going to share a couple of images that I thought were done. I've even gone so far as to post them here recently for the world to see. However, after not having had them on my easel for a couple of weeks, I decided that, nope, there were still some things that needed tweaking.
This actually happens a lot. I don't know if it's the excitement of the creative process or the brain's ability to edit what we see to what we desire to see, but oftentimes a painting needs some breathing room and a fresh eye before it can be declared "finis!". What looks lovely and complete on Monday will sometimes look a bit unkempt by Friday. This sort of hide and seek can go on for several days or even weeks. It's just part of the process.  ( A painter I admire immensely shared with me that his wife will not allow his paintings to be hung in their own home because he keeps taking them off the wall to finish them - again.)

This pastel painting was "finished" a couple of weeks ago.  As you can see, I even wrapped it with a border and copyright notice. 
Yesterday I was straightening up my studio (no comments please) and looked at it one more time.  The delight and pleasure I'd hoped to  experience just wasn't there anymore, and that's not a good feeling to have.  Back onto the easel it went.
(Aside - when people ask how long a painting takes, it's hard to explain that alot of the work that goes into a painting involves thinking about it, staring at it, ignoring it and more thinking about it. I painted a delightful landscape that took 6 years - s i x  y e a r s - to finish, and it was only 6 inches by 8 inches! But ooh, baby, when it was done, it was finis!)

©2011 Patricia Scarborough Foxtail Winter, 9x12 pastel

The changes I made were subtle but important.  Deepening some colors, a few visible strokes in the right places, breaking up some of the spaces in the distance all helped to bring the painting to completion. Again. So far.

©2010 Patricia Scarborough Platte River Recharge, 9x12 oil

Same situation with this painting.  I thought I loved it, and then happened to glance across it looking for something else.  It hit me that I needed to make a few adjustments to be completely satisfied, or at least as satisfied as an artist can be about her work.

©2011 Patricia Scarborough Platte River Recharge 11 x 14 oil

Again, the changes are not huge, but important, at least to me.  And to be quite honest, seeing this painting in a new environment shows me that there are one or two more little tweaks...

In another vein altogether, Mavis and I are reading Michael Gelb's "How to Think Like Leonardo DaVinci". Over the years we've read Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way" and Molly Gordon's "Accidental Entrepreneur" together as well.  We've discovered that despite the fact that we live in different countries, we share a desire to learn and to challenge ourselves and each other. Discussing a subject from our different viewpoints is enlightening and challenging.  To that end, we've decided to read one chapter in Gelb's book weekly, and discuss our discoveries with each other.  I'm inviting you to join us in this adventure.  Artist or plumber, accountant or race car driver, you will probably have an experience to share that we can all benefit from.  We'll start here, at this blog.  We may change to facebook if we decide the conversation flows more smoothly.  I'll let you know.

Take a quick peek over your shoulder to see where you've been, and open yourself up to see where you want to go.  See you next week.

The Value of a Challenge

I'm involved in teaching another pastel class at Lux Center for the Arts this weekend.  My good friend and cohort in art, Mavis Penney, has offered to stand in for me.

“The Value of a Challenge” by Guest Blogger Mavis Penney

There’s a lot to be said for responding to a challenge. A challenge kicks you into high-gear action. It gives you another person’s point of view, and it forces you to be accountable for doing what you say you will do. I’ll bet that you know what it feels like to receive a challenge, and what it feels like to respond to one, too. Patricia Scarborough has dished out quite a few challenges in my direction, and every one of them has repaid me handsomely in value well beyond what I expected.

©2009 Mavis Penney, Muskrat Falls, 5x7 oil

Patricia and I met in a workshop conducted by Alyson Stanfield of ArtBizCoach.com, and we started collaborating on painting projects almost immediately. Our biggest project together was our 2009 “Off the Highway” series, in which we each produced 100 paintings in 100 days, and posted our images with our comments to the project blog. Patricia and I have pushed each other to work through online courses, we have read books together, and we have celebrated each other’s successes. And we have each pulled the other out of those places where the temptation to quit was so strong it was just about swallowing us up.

This past summer, I felt I was losing touch with my watercolor technique and also with the freshness of painting outdoors. I whined about it once too often, and Patricia offered me the challenge of painting 30 watercolors “on my back door-step.” She said I would reap the benefits of closely observing the scenery in a very limited area, and I wouldn’t have to go far from home to do it.

The view from Mavis' back step

I don’t think Patricia intended it to be a-painting-a-day challenge, but when I observed that there were 30 paintings to be done and that there are 30 days in September, I got up a head of steam over completing all 30 paintings by the end of the month. And I pushed myself to make the project a fully plein air experience as well. And I pledged to make myself accountable by posting the 30 paintings to my blog. In other words, I overbuilt the challenge. In fact, I made it so top-heavy that I couldn’t keep up with it. And so, I am writing to report that at the end of 30 days, I have completed 12 paintings. Most of those paintings I did do out of doors, and the rest are either from sketches or photos from my back door-step that I completed indoors. I’m about halfway through this challenge. I haven’t met my expectations. But I haven’t quit. I am still painting, still working with the watercolors and still posting the results to the blog.

 ©2010 Mavis Penney, Fireweed Blossom #10, 11x15" watercolor

From the halfway point, I can tell you that the true value of this challenge is not that I am adding to my skills and also to my inventory of paintings, and it is not that I am sharpening my powers of observation, although all of these things have happened. The true value of accepting this or any challenge is that it opens your mind to possibilities you never thought about. The true value of a challenge is that it provides a jumping-off point for new challenges beyond your wildest expectations. Thanks for reading! I’ll be in touch again soon to let you know about the second half of this challenge.

http://www.mavispenneystudios.com/

http://emotionallyimpelled.blogspot.com/

http://labradorlandscape.wordpress.com/

When the Art Can't Speak for Itself

@ 2010 Cottonwood Study, 8x10 oil Private Collection

An Evening for Art Lovers, Graham Gallery, Hastings Ne.

In my last post I listed a few of the things a solo-preneur must handle. Creator, bookkeeper and marketer come to mind. I'm adding videographer to the list.


My pal, Canadian artist Mavis Penney, and I were discussing the many aspects of what it means to be an artist. Among them is the dreaded M word. At least in my world it's dreaded.


Marketing brings to mind balding used car salesmen in polyester pants and plaid shirts screaming deals from the boob tube. I imagine a late-night infomercial, touting the virtues of a little plastic thingy I can't live without, which will cost less if I buy them by the gross. Then there's shipping and handling...


Mavis reminded me that authentic, honest marketing, the kind coach Molly Gordon supports, is really no different than having a conversation. No shouting. No pointing. No free shipping if you order now.


I don't have a storefront, or even a late-night infomercial at my disposal. I do have a video camera. And a blank wall. A tripod for the camera. A website. I even wrote a script so that I wouldn't have to pause and stammer while trying to remember that terrific ... whatever it was I was going to say.


Thirty or so takes into the project my voice is shot and so is my camera battery. I'm beginning to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I feel like a complete idiot chatting away to myself in front of this unblinking eye. I feel even worse watching myself.


So this week I'll practice some more, refine my presentation and post it on my website. I'll share a conversation with my viewers about my One Square Mile project, how I start, what I've learned from limiting myself to a single tract of land. It'll be available to my newsletter readers only. Kind of a special gift to them. If you're interested, sign up here.


I'll squeeze it in between painting sessions, because after all, I am a painter.


When all is said and done, it's the artwork that speaks the loudest. That and a plaid shirt.

Limits On Creativity

Do you ever get the feeling someone's watching you?


I don't mean in the scary sense, like you've got a stalker. I mean it in the sense that certain phrases or words keep making themselves known to you. And they're just the phrases or words that you need to hear.


Lately the term 'focus' has been leaping out at me from blogs and books and newsletters. So much so that I wonder if there's something I need to pay attention to (oh, sorry 'bout that).

It happened again today, just a few moments ago. I received a newsletter from Barbara Martin, author of Reptitude, a cool blog about creative endeavors. Her inaugural missive deals with setting deadlines and other limits for creative effort. And if I may toot my own horn, Barbara mentions Mavis Penney's and my Off The Highway blog which chronicles our 100 days of painting experience as a way to describe different ways of setting intentions - cool!


Ahem, back to focus...

I have noticed that since finishing our Off the Highway project, I've been a bit adrift. No flaming deadlines looming, no one checking to see what I'm up to. I can do anything I want now that I'm all caught up. Interestingly, I' haven't been all that certain what I wanted to do with all that newfound freedom.

@ 2009 Square One P Scarborough 12 x 12 oil

I took my cue from the universe, or whoever it is that's nagging me, and I'm starting a new project. It's all about focus and limits. I'm committed to painting at least 30 one-square-foot paintings of one-square-mile I've picked out north of town. Just like the Off The Highway project, in which we allowed ourselves the leeway of painting anything that could be seen from a highway, I can paint anything within that square mile. To enforce the goal, I announced the project as an exhibit to be shown at The Burkholder Project in March, 2010.

Why a limit on what I can use for inspiration? I became aware that when I was immersed in the Off The Highway experience, I felt a certain freedom to experience more fully what I was seeing when I was limited to the highway. It's called "inspired monotony". If you do the same thing, or a small set of things, over and over, innovation is almost a necessity. It's, well, un-limiting.

Off The Highway Series @2009 Day 57 - First Light Heifer P Scarborough 5 x 7 oil

Marla Baggetta painted 100 paintings using the same simple landscape as inspiration. To relieve the monotony (her selected landcape doesn't include too many cathedrals or fruit markets) she conceived her landscape in startling and beautiful ways. My square mile may not be the most interesting piece of real estate in the world, but I'm fairly certain that by the time March rolls around, I'll have learned a fair amount about what goes on there, and I'll have learned a bit more about painting.

@2009 Square 2 P Scarborough 12 x 12 oil

I'm excited about being limited. It's kind of freeing, in an odd way.

How do you set limits to inspire your new projects?

We Reached 100

Whew! It’s complete, done, over. Finis!
Mavis Penney, Canadian painter-coach-mentor-friend and I set out on March 2nd, 2009 to paint one 5 x 7 painting each weekday until we had 100 completed paintings. We’ve been posting them daily since then.

Day 2 - Early March 2009

"By painting each day for 100 days I hope to learn about that which exists off the beaten path, to learn about seeing, to learn about myself."

This is the statement I shared at the beginning of this 100-day challenge.

So that leaves me asking myself that question: What did I learn?

Certainly I learned about mixing colors and making brush strokes and preparing 100 gessoed boards. Loosening brushwork and pushing colors beyond reality was almost necessary after awhile. Painting trees purple or skies yellow was less a risk than an allowing of something that was natural to me. It was nice to have an outlet to allow that expressiveness.

I learned to look for color, beauty and interest where my intellect, and neighbors, said there were none. And most often I found what I was looking for.

Day 6 Raccoon Skull

I learned that sometimes is okay to do something because all the cool kids are doing it. Now that I’m one of the cool kids, I find I don’t need it so much. I am a daily painter for sure. I just don’t see a need to finish a painting every day. I prefer to let things settle a bit, and return later with a fresh eye. Working out a color choice or a composition needs peaceful consideration. It’s hard to do when the clock is ticking.

I learned that doing scary, challenging things can lead to unexpected outcomes. New opportunities have opened themselves to me because of the relationships, energy, and pile of paintings this project has brought about. (Mavis and I are included in a very cool site called Following the Masters, hosted by Michele Burnett. I'm also a new member of the Burkholder Project, due, in part, to the stack of daily paintings I brought in to show Anne Burkholder. )
I learned to know when I'm licked, and by the 74th day I was toast. I learned to allow myself a rest. After all, this was only a painting challenge, not building the Great Wall of China against Mongol invaders.

I learned to take what I do seriously, but not to take myself too seriously.

I learned that setting challenging goals is important for my - or anyone's - personal growth. I believe now that achieving them is maybe not so necessary. The triumph, at least for me, was in the honest attempt. Dealing with inconvenient time frames, the anxiety of starting and finishing constantly, the emotional roller coaster of delight and disaster (sometimes within minutes of each other) and deepening faith in myself despite looming doubt is the true hard work of what Mavis and I chose to do.

Day 100 - Across the Pond 2009

We're done with our 100 paintings in 100 days challenge. As Mavis suggested to me, I'll let out a yelp of triumph and allow myself a dance across the room.

Big Bold Daily Painting Tips

Pssst. Last week for the Big Birthday Give Away! Leave a comment by 10 pm CST, Sunday August 8th. I'm celebrating my birthday by giving gifts! You could be a lucky recipient - butcha gotta leave me just a quick note so I have something to put into a hat.

I'm nearing the end of our Off The Highway project. Remember? Canadian artist, Mavis Penney, and I agreed to paint one painting each weekday for 100 days. It's been challenging, aggravating, exciting, and wonderful. I have huge appreciation for those artists like Carol Marine who paint daily for years.

For those of you who are interested, consider these tips. Read on, they're free.

My Big Bold Shiny List of Daily Painting Tips

1. Get a partner. Being responsible to Mavis to finish a painting every day and send it to her to post was huge. I did not want to disappoint her. Knowing she was waiting for my images before she retired for the night was a great incentive. I suppose it wouldn't even have to be someone doing the same thing, just a warm body supporting you, and poking you with a sharp stick if you lag.

2. Tell someone. Better yet, tell lots of people. Folks love this kind of project. You'll grow your own cheering section. Countless times I'd get asked about my progress. No way was I going to have to say, "Well, gee, I got tired and gave up." Having to admit I couldn't hack it would be like announcing I'm a giant wimp. It'd be like dropping the winning touchdown at the high school Homecoming football game. Nope. Not me.

3. Blog it. Sharing your images helps you take the project seriously. Face it, anybody can finish a painting every day. A few slaps of the brush and 'tada!', you're finished! You and Koko the elephant from the local zoo. Show the world what you're doing and you'll give it that much more. Having said that...

4. Relax. Try something new. This isn't rocket surgery, it's one little painting. Sure, it ends up being a huge pile of paintings after awhile, but why not make it fun?

Day 93 - Tagged 2009

5. Use a theme. Apples of America. Single Shoes from the Streets. Mavis and I decided we would paint anything we might see/find Off The Highway. After a week or two painting landscapes I started to watch the ditches. Then I began to look up, just for fun. A theme helps whittle down what you want to think about, and at the same time opens up new worlds for discovery.

Day 15 Birds Nest on Linen 2009

6. Pick a number. We chose 100. Without a goal of 100 paintings, it would have been easy to pass off the whole thing as a cute idea gone bad. Your number should be achievable, but not so achievable that you don't have to struggle a bit. That's why hot dog eating contests are so much fun. No one wants to watch you eat just one.

Is it weird to have a list of six? Well, perhaps there's something you'd like to add. Anything else?

Some Will . . . Some Won't

A fundamental law of thinkers-outside-the-box reared its head in my skull a few weeks ago, and it's been burbling around there ever since. This idea has given me comfort lately, and I'm relieved. It's probably a mantra of every teenaged girl since the beginning of time, but gets silenced as being part of the Cool Kids becomes more important.


It's the SWSWSW principle.


I've been really getting into a groove of painting since Mavis and I have been working on this 100 paintings in 100 days project. Every Monday through Friday we've agreed to produce a 5 x 7 painting and share it with the world. This is different than painting every day. Painting every day is tough enough, but our intention is to actually finish a painting every day of the work week.


For those of you who are mathematically challenged, this means that we'll have 100 completed paintings in 100 days.


It seems to me that if a painter, or sculptor or whomever produced 100 whatevers, a fella would notice a change in styles or subjects or something as the artist/creator tried to find 100 ways of doing what they do. This kind of work is open to experimenting both for fun and to keep from getting bored. It's happening to me, and quite frankly it gave me the shivers at first.


I've been told that I have a distinctive style (which I take as a compliment). My patrons have told me that if they walk into a room full of paintings, they can pick mine out fairly quickly. Here's where the shivers start.


I'm changing.

Day 71 Heavy Weather 2009 5 x 7 pastel

Banner Image Day 72 Goldenrod Morning 2009 5 x 7 pastel

Painting every day has loosened something in my brain. I find that I'm painting more from memory, or from an idea, than I ever have. I'm not so much interested in creating an exact replica of an actual 'thing' as I am trying to share with you a feeling that I had.


And it worried me a bit.


Gosh, what will They think? Will They know it's me? Will They still want to be my friend?


SWSWSW.


In sales and marketing circles, that means: Some Will, Some Won't, So What?


Some will appreciate what I've created. Some won't get it. Really, So What?


Here's So What: I have 30 more paintings to go in this series. I'll paint some zingers, I'll certainly paint a few dogs. I'll learn a heck of alot more taking risks and playing around with ideas than if I play it safe hoping to be part of the Cool Kids. Where did that ever get me?


The pressure is off. I'm doing this for me, you're just invited along for kicks and giggles.


That's What.


Some Will, Some Won't, So What? So What about you?

Big 5-O Winners!

If you've been paying any kind of attention, you know that today, Friday May 8th is Day 50 of my 100-days-of-painting journey. I'm working with Mavis Penney of Labrador, Canada, to paint daily for 100 days (minus weekends, of course). You can follow along to see what we've accomplished Off The Highway.

To celebrate this major milestone, Mavis and I decided to give away our Day 50 paintings. All who left comments, no matter how brief or how clever, had their names put into a hat (or in my case, a lovely Nancy Fairbanks bowl). This morning Mavis and I met via phone line, and with great fanfare and anticipation drew out the winning names.

The winner of my painting, "Ponies in Light", whose name was pulled out of a hat by my cohort Mavis, is blog commenter Cory. Congratulations, and thanks for sharing this journey with us!

I drew Vicki's name, who will soon receive Mavis' lovely 5 x 7 watercolor "Ice Melting at Birch Island". Congrats to you, too!

Gosh, I hope they're as excited as we are!

Which leaves the question...how will we celebrate Day 100?

Cake and ice cream for everyone?

Stay tuned!

Free Art

No I'm not talking about the guy who got in trouble last year and ended up in the penitentiary.

I'm talking about winning a piece of really fine artwork. Here's how, in 4 easy steps:

Number 1. Read all of the instructions. (Yeah, I know. I've watched you put stuff together before.)

Number 2. After you've read all the directions, click on this link - Off The Highway. Remember, read all the directions first.

Number 3. Look around the Off The Highway blog. There's some pretty cool stuff there.

Number 4. Leave a comment. In order to do this, you'll notice that at the bottom of each post there's a comment link. Click on this link and a box will pop up. Here's where you get to say "hello", or "wow, you two artists are really good!" or "I wanna Free Art" or something clever like that.

That's it. Honest.

Here's the deal: Canadian artist Mavis Penney and I have been painting every week day for the last 40 days. We agreed to paint for 100 days, so we're very nearly half-way through. We're learning tons, and having a blast. We've reached our terror barrier and blown right past it. A blog has been created called Off The Highway to chronicle our journey, and we've shared our successes - and not-so-successes with you. We're pretty excited about what's been happening, and are ready to celebrate. Here's where you come in.

Follow the directions above. We'll put the names of everyone who comments from Day 1 to Day 49 into a very stylish hat. On Day 50, May 8th, 2009, our half-way mark, we'll draw 2 names out of the hat. Those two very lucky people will receive one of the Day 50 paintings. How cool - and easy - is that? We'll even pay shipping to mail them out. All the winner has to do is provide a frame and a wall. Then stand back and be happy.

Even if you don't win anything, you'll still get to hang out with the cool kids. Don't worry, we won't swamp you with junk email and stuff. We just want to share in our delight in this project.

So join us, won't you, on our journey to paint 100 paintings in 100 daze, er, days. Come along and see what we see just Off The Highway.

The Big 5-0

Yesterday was as perfect a day as one can get on this planet. The sky was achingly blue, the kind of blue that is so pure and rich and complete that it's impossible to describe. The sun was deliciously warm, with barely a breeze to ruffle the new grass.

To celebrate, I wrote a song. It's to the tune of "The Twelve Days of Christmas." I've changed it to "The Twelve Hours of Spring", in honor of those perfect 12 hours of absolutely flawless springtime weather. Sing it with me, won't you? And let's start it at the end. We don't have all day.

In the twelfth hour of springtime my true love gave to me...

hyacinth in bloom

breezes softly wafting

buds peeking meekly

squirrels dancing wildly

trees budding leaflets

cardinals a-calling

clouds white as cotton

Tooooo-lips pure red!

gold finches flitting

neighbor mowing loudly

daffodils a-bloom

(drum roll please)

and a sky that's as blue as can beeeeeeeee!

And if that isn't enough to get you excited about spring, Mavis and I are getting ready to celebrate the Big 5-0.

We're at Day 35 in our quest to discover what's Off The Highway, our 100 paintings in 100 days project. When we reach Day 50, the Big 5-0, on May 8th, 2009, we'll immortalize the occasion by giving away that day's paintings to two lucky people.

Here's how you can get in on the festivities-

Skip on over to Off The Highway, and say hello. That's it. You could expand on that if you'd like, and actually say something else, like, "Wow, your work is fabulous!", or "Sign me up for the Big 5-0!", but a simple "hello" will do. We'll keep track, put the names into a hat and draw out the winners. How cool is that?

Day 35 Wetlands 5 x 7 oil on gessoed board

No, really, how cool is that?

What's Clicking?

Did you hear it?


It happened last week. I had a feeling it would happen, but when it actually occurred, I was stopped in my tracks.


Are you certain you didn't hear it?


It clicked.


Christine Kane writes brilliantly about it in her blog. It's number one on her list, actually.


The top of the list of her "7 Creativity Lessons" starts with the decision to schedule and create a system within which an individual can then create. Of course, she says it way better than I. Go ahead and click on over to read what she has to say. I'll wait.


It seems that alot of folks believe an artist has to be all flighty and emotional and excitable and drama-filled to be truly creative.


Not so.


In fact, it's just the opposite.

This daily painting journey that I've been on with my friend Mavis Penney proves that keeping a schedule, and creating a system is vital to creative work. We've promised each other, and you, that we'll show up every week day for 100 days and show you what we've accomplished each day. There's no room, absolutely no room, for being flighty and for waiting on some gauzy-winged muse to float down out of the ether to tell me what to paint. Whether I'm having a good day or bad, blue sky or rain, in my zone or out in left field, you're there, patiently anticipating that we'll focus our talents and provide you with what we've promised. I have to show up, whether I'm feeling all artsy or not.


And it works. Somehow, knowing I'm in this for 100 days is actually freeing. No longer do I sit and wait for The Muse, who seems to have taken a wrong turn and gotten lost somewhere. No longer do I check email or sort socks, waiting for the Next Great Idea. It's action time, and it's action I've got to take. I actively look for inspiration rather than waiting for The Muse to deliver it all wrapped in shiny paper. I set a timer so I don't watch the clock. I relax, because I know this is what I'm supposed to be doing with my time. It occurs to me that I've been using a system for this blog. I post every Sunday evening. Not Monday morning, and not just when I feel like it. Every Sunday evening whether I'm feeling clever or not. Lucky you.

There are no hard and fast rules about the system one chooses to work with. You've got to figure out what works for you. Systems are not sexy and they're not bright and shiny. They are, however, absolutely essential for growth and accomplishment. And frankly, it takes some time to figure out what works. I'm finding out that being accountable to you is an important part of my system. I found that having a good friend and colleague ( Number 2 on Christine's list ) with whom to share the trip is essential. I discovered that in order to paint one hundred paintings, I've got to put aside my morning newspaper, postpone the LA Times Crossword ( now I'm just bragging ) and stride purposefully upstairs to my easel.
That's what clicked.
What clicks for you?

Day 26 and Counting

This is Day 26 of Mavis Penney's and my "Off The Highway" project. Mavis and I are cruising into our sixth week of daily painting. Frankly, I'm impressed. It wasn't long ago I was gasping for air, whining and terrified of both failing and succeeding.
I was worried that
1- I wouldn't hold up my end of the agreement with Mavis.
2- I was worried about what you'd think.
3- What if I couldn't think of anything to paint?
4- What if the sky fell?
5- What if?
Well?
Hm.
1. It might happen that I might not be able to complete this project. I can't guarantee I can count that high. It occurs to me that maybe you can't either.
2. You might not love each and every little painting I create. Oh well. I might not either.
3. I might just have to paint the same thing over and over again. Golly. It's called a "series".
4. The sky falling? Well, if that happens it'll put me a little bit closer to the stars.
It's been so grey and drab this month, and I needed some color desperately. Funny, I found it in a chunk of clear glass.
I found this Hemingray-54 Insulator near Highway 6 among the weeds of an old farmstead. When a meager ray of sunlight managed to work its way through the clouds, it landed on this piece, and bent into a thousand colors.
Studying the light in that glass, and the way it filtered through onto the table, there'll be a hundred paintings in me, I know it. And I can hardly wait to start the next one.
Thanks for checking up on me.
And if you think of it, vote for Brian for Prom King.

One Month Down

What a great weekend! I enjoyed instructing a great class of artists on Saturday at the Minden Opera House. Those folks accomplished a great amount of learning in just a few hours, and I admire their willingness to jump right in and get to work. The Opera House is a terrific place for workshops (hint hint) and it appears that people around that part of the state are eager for the opportunity. (More hint hint.)

This Monday, Mavis and I begin our fifth week of daily painting. This idea of finishing a painting every day has been around for about 4 or 5 years. Today there are hundreds of artists taking on the challenge of showing up at their easel every single day and completing a painting or project every...single...day.
(Please note, I asked, begged and pleaded for weekends off. My idea, not Mavis'.)

By Friday, the 20th day of our project, I was sucking wind. Seriously. Who knew? Who knew that those mere 5 x 7 paintings would take so much out of me? If you've been paying attention, you know that the compositions aren't that complicated. The size is not overwhelming. So why am I bent over gasping for breath?
It's because I'm showing up. Every day, rain or shine, busy or not, I'm there. You're waiting to see what I've promised I'll do. I'm thinking, really hard, and I'm learning. And learning, at least for me, is exhausting. I mean, those brain cells are vibrating faster than they have in a long, loooooong time.

So . . . what have I learned since my last post on the subject?

It can be summed up in three words: just for now.

A very smart lady told me this once. Just for awhile, do it. Not for a month or a year or a lifetime, but just for now. Don't paint the 80th or the 90th piece, just paint the one in front of me. I don't have to get all anxious that for the rest of my life I'll be up in my studio, like Rapunzel in her tower, painting all day and missing out on everything fun that's going on. Just for now I will focus on one small canvas-covered board and enjoy the task. When today's piece is done, it's done. This simple thought quiets my mind and allows focus. My heart, all a-quiver with anxiety over the thought of another painting, calms and slows. I'm doing this one painting, now. Not forever. Now.

Once this sunk in I feel stronger and more capable about this project. Last week I was imagining all kinds of excuses, really good excuses, for not being able to keep up with this commitment. You know, the dog ate my canvas, I'm just toooo bizzzzzy, I have to iron handkerchiefs...
Tonight I'm looking forward to starting day 21. Afterall, those handkerchiefs get all wadded up anyway, and we don't have a dog, and that other stuff can wait.

For now.

One Hundred Daze

Minden Opera House, downtown Minden Ne.

Right off the bat, I want to thank those of you who attended the opening reception for my solo exhibit, "Marking Time" at the Minden Opera House. We packed the house and had a great time. I was honored and humbled by your presence.

The gallery entry is to the back of the lobby. A beautful start!

My Monster Fan Club

I hinted at a new project in last week's post. Now that the MOH show is up, I'll give you the skinny on the new deal.

My friend Mavis and I have jumped on the bandwagon, joined the crowd and gotten on board with the "Painting a Day" game. For 100 days, starting March 2nd, we have promised each other - and you - that we will create a 5 x 7 painting every weekday for 100 days. (C'mon, I gotta have weekends off.) Our theme is "Off the Highway". We live in different time zones and use different styles in our artwork, but we' ve got highways, both physical and electronic, that link us to each other.

What's the point? (Besides all the cool kids are doing it?)

For the same reason there is Mount Everest and hot dog eating contests at the county fair.

Just because. Just to see if we can. Just for 100 days. Just 100 little paintings.

It seemed like a good idea at the time?

(Day 4, Winter Sky 5 x 7oil)

Reason 1.It's show up or shut up time. No whiners allowed. Put down the paper, ignore the crossword puzzle and stride purposefully into the studio. Laundry can wait. Trust me on that.

Reason 2. Learn. There's no way I can paint that many pieces and not learn something. I may learn I don't like to paint every day. I may decide I want to paint larger. I just might find I love it...who knows?

3. Make it count. If the goal is to finish the painting in one day, my decisions had better be good. No more diddling around. Mix the paint right the first time. Make the brushstroke say what it must the first time.

4. It's only one hundred days. It's not a lifetime. Granted, one hundred days is longer than some marriages or careers, but it's doable for me.

5. Learn to see. It'll be interesting to see what opens up for us as we find new subject matter for 100 paintings.

Check in on us from time to time. Comments welcome.

One hundred days, one hundred paintings.