Back to Find That Drawing Board

March 12, 2020 Earnest Painter

We are now in March, three months into the new year. I am working on ramping up my writing and painting output. Yesterday I went into the office I have at home... finally. I've been afraid to go in there for weeks, afraid of dealing with what was in there. In December we had an art show in the studio where my office is located, so stuff just kind of got pushed to the back and ProPanels were thrown up to hang art. The office was a mess to begin with, but shoving stuff out of the way kind of pushed the mess over the edge, and I'm still trying to recover. The goal is to put my office, not only back in order, but to make it more organized and a more pleasant place to be. I began by pulling everything out of the bookcase. The bookcase, you see, has been in the corner. I had a desk against the wall next to it and another computer desk on the opposite wall. The writing desk was moved from one wall to another so that I could be at the computer and swivel to the right to be at the writing desk. So, suddenly my bookcase was 6 inches from the side of my writing desk, which is not an ideal location.

Having pulled everything out, I was able to consider what was what. I have a lot of material related to genealogy—books that my ancestors are mentioned in, for example. I have books about politics, fiction I need to read, books that have been signed and some that are old and delicate. Some of these were not actually on the bookcase; they were lying around because the bookcase was full of unrelated stuff.

I pulled the bookcase over to the edge of my space, closer to the front door of the studio. Now, it has more space to breathe. I have tentatively put things into it. I love books and I collect them, but I want this to have more than books on it, I want to display other things as well. So, I'm considering what sort of reading/written material needs to be in this space particular where I write and paint. Unread fiction doesn't seem to be what is called for in this office. Art technique and political intrigue are much more fitting. Old books and books that are signed and or inscribed need a safer place to be than a studio that shape-shifts for different events.

Artwork definitely needs to be around. While I'm trying to be creative I need to be surrounded by ceramic pottery and woodwork that I love. I also need other interesting things... an old decorative doorknob or an interesting bottle. There is a fine line between hoarding and collecting, and I haven't seen that line in quite a long time. It's been buried under stuff. Now my cleaning ideas seem to be growing outside of my bookcase, which is good because that was just a starting place.

I dedicate the month of March to Finding my Office. My first novelette is being reviewed by an editor at my publisher and I need to be working on my next novel. I need to create more paintings to go along with my novels, because... well because I like the idea and I want that to be a part of my art. So, my first right step this month is to organize my space.

How is your 2020 going?

Minor Meltdown

November 10, 2019 Earnest Painter

I’ve been reading some motivational books recently—more specifically listening to audiobooks during my ungodly commute. Jen Sincero is amazing to listen to; I recommend You Are a Badass to anybody who hasn’t read it. No seriously, go get it. I’ll wait…

Something that she (and others) talk about is getting out of your comfort zone. If you want a life you’ve never had before, you’ll have to do things you’ve never done before. And a lot of those things will be different enough to be very uncomfortable. This is just what i need to hear regularly to reinforce the decision I made a few years ago to be a writer. I allow myself be talked out of it regularly, even though nobody is trying to discourage me. I just give up on myself; it’s too much work, or I’m not as talented as real writers, or they’ll just look at me as if I’m cute for trying. Or, I don’t have a degree, that’s a good one to fall back on. Listening to these motivational materials is so effective to help us keep momentum when the doubts attack.

Aside from writing, my partner has challenged me, himself and another friend of ours to have 5 paintings done by mid-December. Not a problem, I thought as I penciled in time on my calendar. We’ve been painting with each other for over a year and we’re in the flow. So I thought.

Somehow this is more real. This time I have an idea that I’m really excited about. I mean, this has potential and I can’t wait to see the series up and in person. Before that, though, i have to paint it, which is what I began to do yesterday. I decided to get in the studio and get going.

First, I had to have coffee. Then, I needed a nap. I was thinking about my wonderful ideas and how I would execute them. Which made me terrified. Like, I-couldn’t-get-out-of-bed terrified. This is irrational because, as I’ve said, we’ve been painting together for a while. Our friend is out of town, and Partner was at work. It was just going to be me painting in peaceful solitude with my own music playing and cats keeping me company. So, I breathed and got out of bed to get to work.

First I was angry at everybody. Then, I had to find a reason to be angry at them, which wasn’t all that difficult. Why did you stack stuff on top of my canvas? Now it’s all warped. So, I got a new canvass out. Who took my ruler! How am I supposed to draw a straight line without a ruler. And my paint brushes; where are they!? Doesn’t anybody around here respect my stuff?! I’m never painting in this studio again. I will find someplace by myself to paint. WHY DOES EVERYBODY HATE ME? I’M NEVER TALKING TO ANYBODY EVER AGAIN EVER!

The canvas can be fixed by getting it wet; it should tighten up again. Oh, and the paint brushes were neatly standing in a container designed specifically to hold paint brushes.

Breathe.

I approached the canvas. This was really really frightening. I’ve been slapping paint on things pretty regularly for over a year, but this… this was a brilliant idea that I love and that I think has true potential. If I messed this up I’m messing up my dream. I thought about taking another nap right at this point. Tomorrow is a good day to start painting.

Breathe. Get back to work.

I have a fairly good eye for sketching, but that part of my mind was blinded. So, after a few pencil lines that I didn’t like were on the canvas, I sat down and looked at the picture I was working from. I thought back to high school when we would put a grid over a picture, then make a grid on our drawing paper and break it down that way. It’s like the drawing grids in the Dell Variety Puzzle magazine; you don’t know what you’re drawing; you’re just making each square in the grid look like it does in the guide, and when it’s filled in you see you’ve drawn a turtle, or a person riding a bike. If you had known you were drawing a person, your left brain would have kicked in and messed it up trying to make it look like a person. But, doing it square by square, your right brain can just do space relationships.

I pulled up my picture on the computer again, lightened it, overlay a grid and printed it. Then, I lightly sketched a larger grid on my canvass. Panic receded and a peace fell over me as I made lines I was drawing in each square match the each individual square in the reference picture. I threw my left brain off course even more by working on non-adjacent sections. I’d do the top middle, then go down to the bottom left, just making the lines match. Partner came in at some point and aimed a light at my canvas, which helped immensely. (Don’t tell him about my fit earlier.) (But seriously, this is why we need coaches, editors and people with other perspectives in our lives.)

I stepped back, and I liked what I saw. The sketch was coming along to be what I wanted. It needed something else that I couldn’t put my finger on, so I stopped. I came inside and began writing again. Honestly, after all that I did need a nap. While lying down with my cats I got a nudge from inside saying that I didn’t have to stay 100% faithful to the reference picture. I listened, and the feeling inside me said I could move the angles of a couple of straight lines in order to make the perspective more dramatic. I feel like that’s going to improve it greatly, and I’m glad I didn’t begin painting right away.

Jen did warn that if we weren’t 100% committed to make a change—like become a visual artist no matter what—then as soon as things got tough we would give up. Nothing was even all that difficult and I was ready to quit and take a nap. This is, if I’m not mistaken, when I usually give up. So, I will persevere. I’ve done it before when I had decided I would do something. In my early 20’s I learned Spanish in spite of things being thrown in my way, thinks like not speaking Spanish, some people making fun of me, or scorning me, or simply my being really really bad at it and clumsy. I thought I was giving up a few times, but before I even properly quit trying, I was listening to Spanish music again trying to make out the lyrics. This just shows that I CAN do these things; I just have to WANT to do them, and DECIDE to do them.

Thank you for sharing this meltdown with me. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have.

Once More Along the Path

May 2, 2019 Earnest Painter

Allow me one more entry in this vein, and then I’ll move on to happier things.

I sit, and write while I can sit. I'm not feeling my best; stomach cramps and other symptoms of a stomach bug are bothering me these last couple of days. It's maybe a good time to sit with myself. Usually when I'm sick I sleep through it, which is fabulous. Sleeping for 36 hours straight is a dream come true. Yesterday I slept until noon, then got up and putzed around. Today I got up around 8 AM, so there's no avoiding myself or my life.

Last November I challenged a couple of friend of mine. Barry has been an artist (a jeweler) for 35 years, and he is searching for a new direction for his art. Our friend, Tamara, is a graphic designer, but when we met almost 30 years ago we were both aspiring artists. It's our bond. She has always, ALWAYS, been naturally more talented than I. I make up for some of it through persistence. Barry wants to take his art in a new direction, Tamara wants to take her life in a new direction—as do I. So, I suggested that the three of us together work on an exhibition of artwork. Barry suggested the Elgin Art Studio Tour in May 2019.

At first we sat together with 15-30 minute sessions, then we critiqued. We talked about what we wanted to accomplish, gave suggestions about where we thought each other's work was going. We worked. Tamara came to the studio regularly and it seemed like this was going to be taken seriously. We took field trips to art supply stores and came back to work on our stuff. I live here and am able to work during the week. Tamara has come during the week, but it's mostly weekends for her. Barry works every single evening of his life on jewelry.

This has to be taken in context of my life. My previous post about beginning on the path is not separate from this art that I'm working on. It's all connected, especially in my mind. My thoughts about what I wanted to accomplish were very much addressing the demons that haunt my mind. I've addressed these demons off and on for most of my life; it appears that it's going to be a lifelong battle.

Sometimes I feel that perhaps there is a problem when we keep things together. This made itself apparent in my last job. We all worked very hard (and learned so very much.) But, perhaps our working to keep things together, however tenuously, was enabling the company to continue to put off investing in the necessary infrastructure changes. While we worked (“Did whatever it took”) to help the company fulfills its promises, the company kept promising more and more until the balance shifted and we couldn't keep up. Most of us felt, though, that we HAD to keep up, that we HAD to make it work, and as we lost more ground, our stress increased to dangerous levels.

I think about that experience in my current job, where I keep a more firm stance on what I can and cannot do. And major changes are happening because things are not working as they should. Departments are being created and facilities are being established to handle the mountain of paperwork that we work with, to eliminate the problem of lost documents that has plagued us. The phone center is being beefed up and redesigned to allow the processing teams time to do our jobs, rather than spending our days answering calls. Things are changing because problems have been brought to light. This, as opposed to us working furiously against time and logic, blaming and flagellating ourselves to "make it work".

But, what of myself? I look at the years that I've wandered through life making choices that I knew were wrong and that I would one day pay for. But, I have not ever been homeless. I've not ever, really, been hungry. I've always taken a loan from my future self to pay for sloth and gluttony in the present, knowing that at one point it would all catch up with me. I've always managed to keep it together just enough to get by. What's catching up to me now is anxiety—paralyzing anxiety that has an affect on my daily life. I feel I'm losing my grip. Some days, for no reason I can put my finger on, I can't get out of bed. I literally get sick and tremble under the covers. It's coming for me.

A few years ago a person very close to me surprised me. I got a call that there was a problem, a possible drinking problem that I was clueless about. Before the evening was over, that person had been arrested for DUI, and a couple of weeks later was in a rehab facility. At the time I was so overwhelmed and under so much stress that the idea of going into rehab seemed like a vacation. But, I had managed to keep it together enough to put that off, for the time, anyway. This person continues to battle demons and alcohol, two years later. Nobody said that it would be easy or that change would happen overnight. And I have moved on to a better place of employment and a better place in my life.

Was holding it together really the best thing for me? Its' all catching up to me anyway, have I just been putting off the inevitable? I wonder about that as I navigate a job that is going through an incredibly stressful transition, and as I work on the paintings and mandalas that will be a part what I present in the exhibition. As I barrel toward a nervous breakdown, I listen to Chill-out Lounge Music and imagine that I am on a beach, in a cabana listening to the sound of the waves and watching happy people enjoy their vacations. I wonder what my therapist would say about this. Maybe, after all, it is time to finally fall apart.

What We Do Today

February 9, 2019 Earnest Painter

I came across a Memory in Facebook the other day. It kind of took me back, in a good way.

I had left a job that was very stressful and taken a position as a clerk (more or less), as a way to get my foot in the door of another organization that I thought would be better for me. Barry had given me a hand-made leather-bound journal (pictured above) and I used it to help calm my nerves. I wrote in it, I did Zentangle and I drew. I more or less kept that journal with me wherever I went and sought out quiet time for myself, time to be with my journal and my thoughts.

I had begun the Zentangle a few months previous to that, as a way to help manage the stress. It works, if you approach it right. Slow, deliberate lines drawn in a small space can be very meditative. I listened to ambient music on YouTube (Chill music) and did everything I could to not have a meltdown. (It really was a rough period.) I usually spent some time each day tangling with relaxing music playing.

My new job has taken a stressful turn as we change software. Transitions are never easy, and this one is taking its toll on all of us. The other day I saw the picture above on a Facebook memory and I could feel the tingling of the physical effect of relaxing. I have spent so much time tangling and doodling that I’ve created an conditioned response for myself, without even setting out to do so.

Do you ever smell something that takes you back? Nutmeg and Christmas as a child, perhaps? Or, consider the beautiful way an old love song can make you feel the way you did twenty years ago. You’re minding your own business when a song comes on the radio and you’re suddenly in love with somebody again, feeling all the anxiety, inadequacy and elation that comes with young love. When I was a kid we always got fruit in our stockings at Christmas, so when I smell and orange or grapefruit being peeled I’m immediately a child on Christmas morning again, even if for just a moment.

It seems that in the same way I trained myself to relax by doodling, simply by repeating the exercise over and over for an extended period of time. I typically was in a coffee shop or somewhere I could be among people, but still be alone. I didn’t go into the practice with the idea of setting myself up a psychological safety net for the future; I simply wanted to learn to calm my nerves. (I still tangle and doodle, though not with the same frequency.)

When I think about it, I realize that this is not new, not even for me. I’ve read advice on how to learn conditioned responses, by rubbing your thumb on a polished stone in your pocket, for instance. Those things always made sense to me, but they were still rather foreign. Seeing this picture made it concrete. It produced a physical response in me – a relaxing of the muscles in my shoulders and a slowing of breathing.

I’m glad that I chose something that I can look at now. Meditation in any form can be relaxing, but it doesn’t really afford the visual cue that I had when I happened to see the picture. I suppose I could train myself to meditate while rubbing my polished stone and then the polished stone would give me the same cue, but the drawing seems a little stronger. The doodling and drawing were physical exercises. Meditation is physical as well, but it’s almost the opposite of doing something. I have meditated; we spent a great deal of time practicing that when I was younger. I’ve never experienced this sort of response from that time, though. I suppose, knowing what I now know, I could condition myself, but I have a lovely way to do that already that works very well for me. I think I’ll stick to my quiet doodling, but with renewed purpose.

I’ve moved on to mandalas, as well. I still tangle, but I spend more time drawing mandalas than practicing Zentangle these days. I’ll post some pictures of my mandalas when I have more of a collection. In the meantime, I’ll continue to come home, sit by myself with nice music playing and draw slow, deliberate lines, meditating and relaxing. I’ll continue to reinforce this auto-response for myself. I encourage you to try it.

And how about you? What do you do to relax? Have you found yourself at the end of your tether? If so, how did you get through it? I’d love to hear from you.

The Staying Power of Art

September 29, 2018 Earnest Painter

I continue to think about the Notary Public idea, though I don’t believe it will accomplish what I want. It wouldn’t be bad to be a notary, but it’s not likely my name will go down in history that way. That tangible thing I crave wouldn’t materialize.

At work, I touch the archive paper. It has a nice texture, a definite tooth in its surface. The scraps that they have after they print our amendments get distributed. We use those scraps to manually print amendments, as well as use it as scratch paper. When I touch the paper, I really want to write on it. I don’t know what I want to write, but I long to sit and put a nice pen to that paper and feel the tip stroke across the surface. I want to look at my handwriting on it. That would be tangible. That has potential to stay around. Surely something written on this paper would be worth saving.

Sculptural Pendant

Pendant with Bone and Opal

Pendant

Pin with Labradorite

Tamara Inspired Bracelet

Detail

Custom Earrings

Pendant Like to Go Places

My friends are artists. Barry makes jewelry, sculpted with gold and silver. Glo has beautiful bronzes with social and cultural importance, as well as small ceramic pigeons. In our house ceramic bowls, plates and platters fill the space to overflowing, along with coffee cups and hand-blown drinking glasses. That is a mark left on the world. Those tangible items will be around forever. People 100 years from now will look at a collection of Barry’s sculptured jewelry and wonder about the artisan that made them. Some of his pieces have an Asian feel, others look vaguely African, with horse hair incorporated. All of them have his signature style that really ties the whole collection together. His work is all over the U.S. and beyond.

Shelf of Ceramics

Functional Ceramics

Jason Hooper Bowl

Hand-blown Glasses

China Cabinet

Salt Cellar

Richella & Barry

Richella with Kiss

Richella & Barry

Our friend, Richella - may she rest in peace - still lives through her tiny raku pots, even while the last of her brood of cats grows old, sleeping on our dining room table eleven years after Richella passed away. Richella’s art has been collected all over the United States and other parts of the world. Her goal was to be in a show at the Smithsonian. After she mastered the technical aspect of pottery, she judged her craftsmanship and her designs based on whether they could be accepted at the Smithsonian. Not a bad aspiration, and she would have made it had she continued to live and produce work.

A Greek potter a few centuries before the common era (BCE or BC?) would have thought they were hot stuff because one of their decorated pots would cost a day’s wages.¹ Imagine if they had known that 2000 years later their work would be sold for over $100K and be on display as an historic artifact. That person, whoever they are, has truly left a their mark on the world, even if we don’t know their name.

Mark Cartwright, "Ancient Greek Potter," Ancient History Encyclopedia, March 16, 2018, https://www.ancient.eu/Greek_Pottery/.

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