uglies

"all art has an ugly stage...keep going!" I seem to say this more and more and more, to my classes, to myself...it seems to apply to most everything going on around me of late. Relationships, cleaning projects, artwork, christmas baking...there's no point in stopping and bemoaning the ugliness...just KEEP GOING! step aside, if you must to catch your breath and gather your courage, but get back in there and work some more.
Recently I joined a roller derby league and learning the moves and failing, is ugly, but necessary. Looking ridiculous is really an act of sheer bravery. As ugly as it is, to be too afraid to attempt something out of fear of looking silly, is so much uglier in the long run. It'll interfere with your future in ways unseen, shrink your world and make appearences more important than passion for life...not pretty.
These little monsters are on their way now, their initial layer of skin is in place and they sit, brave and ugly. Exposed to the world in their raw forms. The process is rewarding, the wire cuts my fingers and make me bleed, then the glue and paper form a tough to remove film all over my arms and hands....then the sanding and the paint...it's messy messy, messy. like life itself, I love it. naked mermaid

tree goddess....looking rather ghoulish

all of them together make for a frightening montage.... ~shivers~

tree peeps in progress

Working on a collection of tree spirits, these are the raw wire forms, awaiting their paper skins and paint. They will all be featured in an upcoming show in Lakewood. I am having so much fun playing with wire again, spent a good two months teaching wire art, the forms, paper clay, painting...and didn't complete a single piece of my own! Have a few partially done, for examples and teaching purposes, but no desire to finish. ugh. normally I have something in the works and sketches and plans in my head, but it's been a numbingly difficult autumn.
Then one night while enjoying christmas specials, I pulled out some paddle wire and started twisting....this is the result......
there are a couple mermaids, a few little bug like ladies, plus the lovely reverent tree spirits. ( well, lovely in my mind at least, once they are properly dressed and displayed in their diaromas, you'll see what I mean)

At least this is a nice switch up from my sad poetry of late!

peaking under the rock

rock bottom
it's cold
and suffocating.
thoughts
can't escape.
feelings
larger than life.
the truth
harsh.

lost my grip.
forgot
why i ever held on.
let go.

confession

Confession. I am in an abusive relationship...with Lonely. He waltzed into my life a while back, as if he was invited. He wasn't. I wish he'd leave already. There is no love between us, never was.

Lonely likes to hit me over the head, mainly at night when I least expect it. Blindsides me with weapons I have no defense against. Nothing subtle about this fellow. He envelopes me in a frozen sort of pain.

I never quite know what to do when he shows up. His very presense blocks me from making plans, and holding a conversation is a struggle when he is standing over me.
I've heard rumors there are others like him, harassing people. It's their thing I suppose. Move away, they follow. Tricky fellas to get rid of.

Sometimes he lets me go and I can pretend I never met him... for a brief moment....when he finds out I've been cheating on him with Happy.... well, it's not good.
One day I'll gather the courage to leave him behind forever. For now though, I'm sitting here with Lonely, while him and his cousins Sad and Pathetic tell stories and laugh at my expense.

dig out

order does not come naturally to me
i have to make myself organize
force myself to pick up and put away

piles are easier than order

yet eventually cause stress
as things are lost or forgotten

lies are easier than truth

though piles of lies eventually cause stress

"where's the truth in all this mess,
where'd i put that memory,
did it actually happen?
maybe not.
i might have dreamt it.
or imagined..."

handmedown piles of lies are harder to organize
seem impossible to sort out
make sense of

but just like the piles of stuff
the layers can be peeled back
sorted through
toss the junk
eventually the truth will turn up.

hand me down rose colored glasses

My handmedown rose colored glasses
are permently perched over my minds eye

It never occured to me to remove them
they were given with such love

Over the years they've served me well
Filtering out the ugly
Transforming pain
shielding me from reality

yet their frothy pinkness
often allows me to walk into
situations
without seeing the danger
everything and everyone
looks pretty in pink

it may be time to put these handmedown glasses on the shelf
take a clear look around
and see
where i am
how i got here
and
where i'm going.....

Memory Martini

I like my memories shaken, not stirred.

Shaken so hard over the years
poured over jagged rocks
filled to overflowing
garnished with pretties

a shaky hand spills
just a little
lost just a fraction of an ounce

you wouldn't miss that splash
if it weren't for the stain

the stain that won't wash out

won't come clean

the truth is a lie

the ugly wears handmedown rose colored glasses

transforming pain with it's frothy pink layers of pretend

Memories don't have to make sense.
Stories are used to soothe
to quiet the tears
to lull back to sleep

just gulp it all down
and let the haze overtake.

My Good Day

Teaching.

It makes me so happy. 

Silly, ridiculous happy.

I love the energy, mixed with the uncertainty that I'll be able to hold it all together...without alerting the 'adults' in the building.

I have a high tolerance for noise..... and appreciate the madness of creativity.

The mess and mayhem make me simply giddy.

This school year started without me, since my ten year old was in the hospital for most of September. It was a rough go, and when the bills start rolling in...well.... but he's healthy and home again and that's what matters.

So, today was my first day back. I was a little nervous walking in to 'my classes' that were already started by someone else, someone I've never met, who doesn't know what I meant by, "Creativity Explosion". But it went well, better than expected, still riding the high of a day well spent.


This is what I would do even if I didn't paid, now that's the mark of a good career choice.
In fact, if I ever did fall into a huge vat of money...I'd simply do more of the same. Teach more classes...to more children...for free....in places where art is a luxury that isn't even considered.

I get far more out of the experience than they do, I have to admit. Confidence is not something that comes easily to me, but put me in a classroom, and I'm home.

For a few years now, I've taught creative writing and poetry with a few random art classes thrown in here and there. Put together a spy science classes where we made great spy gadgets and talked espionage, was hired as a mad scientist to travel about and do wacky experiments. BUT this year is my year.

I proposed Creativity Explosion and it was accepted. This is the art class of my dreams, the one I would have wanted to take as a kid.

In other words, I had a good day.

kaleidoscope

shattered.

dangerous.

painful.

use caution...

take a chance.

sweep up the shards.

pile up.

spin around.

hold to the light.

mesmerizing.

kaleidoscope heart.

lie in wait

A blog to post

a missing key

one faulty letter

turns it to scrap

t-e letter "I-I" is very important.

I can't say t-is, or t-at, or t-ank you or -ello.

frustrating.

till later

~ciao

Rally in the Alley

This is a shameless plea for help.....The David Lytle Memorial Foundation needs your help!
We are the charity working the upcoming Labor Day Rally in the Alley events and are short on LABOR!
Drag a friend along, make a friend, bring a stranger...whatever! Give us your Saturday or Sunday night for a great cause, listen to great bands and have a blast...
Saturday 8/30 ZOSO (Zepplin Tribute)
and Sunday 8/31 WISH YOU WERE HERE (Pink Floyd Tribute)

We need help manning the beer trucks, the ticket booth, merchandise tent and floaters...and people willing to "lei" the crowd :) In honor of David, we sell lei's through out the night, he'd be so proud.

If you are available....please contact me as soon as possible. Alan Pratt is freaking out.
my email is one2seven@hotmail.com.

thanks!!!

Tremont Art Walk

August 8th, 2008 Tremont ArtWalk Friday 6 - 10 p.m.

1 Duck Island 2001 Freeman

2 Ukrainian Museum-Archives 1202 Kenilworth

3 Brandt Gallery 1028 Kenilworth

4 Visible Voice Books 1023 Kenilworth Ave.

5 Studio 11 2337 West 11th

6 The Southside 2207 West 11th

7 Eye Candy Gallery 2173 Professor Ave.

8 Banyan Tree 2242 Professor Ave.

9 The Paul Duda Gallery 2342 Professor Ave.

10 Neighborhood Family Practice 2358 Professor Ave.

11 Edison’s Pub 2373 Professor Ave.

12 Asterisk* 2393 Professor Ave.

13 Atmosphere 2418 Professor Ave.

14 doubting Thomas 856 Jefferson Ave.

15 Hybrid 2430 Tremont Ave.

16 The Flying Monkey 819 Jefferson

17 St. Theodosius Orthodox Christian Cathedral 733 Starkweather

18 Lucky’s Café 777 Starkweather

19 P.D. White Furniture 767 Starkweather

20 Prosperity Social Club 1109 Starkweather

21 Grumpy’s 2617 West 14th Street

22 Lava Lounge 1307 Auburn Ave.

23 Brokebridge Gallery 2278 West 14th Street

24 Pilgrim Congregational Church UCC

25 Treehouse 820 College Ave.

Website: http://www.cleveland.com/sites/treehouse
A giant tree behind the bar and a long beer list are often joined by Irish musicians.

TAG you're it

At my high school reunion this weekend there was obviously alot of talk about Curt.

(one of our fellow classmates who was in a tragic accident this past April.)

see http://jillandcurtlucas.blogspot.com/



Shane Potter in particular, asked and as the night went on practically pleaded for me to throw the word out that they need help getting the house ready for Curt, so he can come home.



"bodies" he kept saying, "we need bodies"



I know it's a huge burden on many of Curt's friends to divide their time between making an income for their family and helping out the Lucas's. ( of course they weren't complaining, but there was alot of emotion over the whole situation, as I'm sure you can all imagine... those of us who were close to David have been there)



Curt and Jill's house needs serious renovation/adaptation in order for him to come home and get around. So much is needed, mostly time and energy. As you'll see in the their blog, they need... people to help out with Electrical, Plumbing, Excavating, Roofing, Siding, Heating & Cooling....much of the work has started, but there is so much to do still.


Brainstorming...any ideas, help, time....would be be greatly apprecitated.
And not just by Curt and Jill...but the community at large and by people like Shane who have been splitting their time between making a living for their own family and donating their time and services for the Lucas's.



tag, you're it!



PLEASE pass the word



thanks :)

here is Curts address at the VA hospital if you want to send him some love

Louis Stokes Cleveland Dept of VA Medical Center
10701 East Blvd
Cleveland, Ohio 44106

balance of gifts

Recently I was sent a very frustrating post. You may have seen it, the paragraph where nearly every word is spelled wrong, and yet, the meaning is completely intact. ( the exact point of the exercise )

.

"fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvea a sgtron mnid too. Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can. I cdnuolt blvelee taht I clood aulacity uesdnatrrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmenela pwoer of the hmuan mnid. Aoccdrung to a rcshaerch at Cmabrigde Uinervitsy it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproament tihng is taht the frsit and lsat litteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and yuo can siltl raed it. Whotuit a pboerlm. ihs is bcusease the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlhoe, Azanimng huh? Yaeh and I awlys tghuhot slpeling wsa ipmorantt!"

.

Yes, I did and I am not amused. All these years I took consolation in the fact that spelling came easily to me. Spelling, grammar, writing, reading...this was my little token prize package to make up for a lack of speaking ability...and complete lack of a singing voice. Sometimes I'll click on spell check just to pridefully remind myself I have some useful skills. The spell check complete ''ting'' is music to my ears.

.

Cambridge University..or should I say Cmabrigde Uinervitsy blew that remnant of confidence out the window! thanks a lot.

.

I wish they would have done away with the absurd absoluteness of mathematics or maybe abolished the whole percentage, fraction myth, perhaps loosened the grip tax law has on the small business....but no, they would have to mess with the one true academic gift I had been graced with, spelling. Disheartening.

.

But, even if they do take that away, I can still find solace in the fact that my imagination helps fill any gaps in actual fact retention. I can continue to simply make it up as I go along. :)

focus

Dear Shannon,

Here is your AstroSlam for Sunday, July 6:

You'll be very proud of yourself for multi-tasking today, but you shouldn't be. The only reason that you're able to run around and do a bunch of different tasks is because you're a failure at prioritizing. Learn how to focus, dude.

why i subscribe to this little uplifting horoscope is beyond me! although, it is frightfully appropriate today.

This morning in my head and in my journal I had a little identity crisis going on...it seems I've come to another cross roads...and haven't a clue the best direction to go.
I love the open-endedness of my career choice, there really are numerous avenues for me to pursue and when I get bored of one role, jump into another.

I like having a closet full of hats, so to speak.

But.

At the moment, I don't feel like a hat person.

This fall brings teaching...only 2 days a week....since I opted out of a full time schedule to leave room for other pursuits...and cut down on driving. How wise is this? I don't know.
I am consistently unstable, the state of limbo is my home, the only given is my role as a mom, I took on that postition for life.

My sketchbook is full of ideas, too many ideas. I'm in the place where the ideas are coming too fast and it's paralyzed me. To start one thing, would mean leaving the others behind, along with all the what if's. It may seem like a strange problem to complain about, but the unrest is frustrating, I don't want to choose.

Julia Cameron in her book, "Walking in this World" has a chapter about this phenomenom. "Week 7, Discovering a Sense of Momentum" where she not only descibes in detail the whirling energy and logjam of creativity...but also the dangers and solutions.

"you must take some small step or the ideas will remain jammed up and the creative pressure will continue to escalate. When it does, it will often manifest as attacks of self doubt and self loathing, "I am so stupid!" you might wail" ( and believe you me, i have! )

She says the trick here is to start siphoning some out...not add more in. In our culture we are trained to deal with anxiety of all forms by putting more in. ( I am very good at this )
more of anything, drink, food, stuff, commitments, work projects, overexercising...

She warns, do not call to talk to anyone, write a letter if you must, no more words in...only words and actions out. This is good advice, there are moments ( like today ) when I have a hair trigger, when the dualing radios are at risk of having me declare a electricity fast, when the neighbors chatter drives me insane! SHHHHHH!!!! I want to shout, but wouldn't, the smile is plastered on my nodding head, while I plot my escape.


"if your head is awhirl and you cannot think straight, then start by straightening something up..." okay, so I cleaned my desk. That felt amazingly productive. Next up...
laundry, fold neatly, hang, put away, clean cupboards, write thankyou notes and on and on...there is power in the details. Sorting out my little corner of the world, helps me find my place in the great big world.

Here's the best part though......

In this chapter she also talks about the sudden strobe light clarity we sometimes get, when we catch a glimpse of our future.
Where we "know" what's going to happen, but have to wait for reality to catch up.

The old has to finish falling apart and the new has to finish coming together.

(That is a great line...not verbatim from the book...it's just how my mind twisted it. Generously paraphrased and taken slightly out of context, but it works for me.)

The shock of seeing my reflection in a new mirror, causes everything I own to look out of style. But, I can't arrive at my destination with so many loose ends...so it's time to start putting everything in the present reality in order, finish all the half done projects...or toss them once and for all. Detox the house, purge it of all the excess, make it sparkle.

It clears up the vagueness.... and... what do you know....restores focus.

Happy 4th of July!!!

Happy 4th of July!!! my second favorite holiday of all time ( after my birthday of course)

Spent yesterday with the Orange Crush..my old soccer team and their families...laughing, eating, fireworks, fun... then today....parade in the morning, massive pool party, gorgeous weather

patriotic, yes, but mainly i think it's everything rolled into one...
seeing friends, crazy loud!!!, fire!!! dark!!! danger!!!
a holiday with very little prep time, no gifts to buy, no cards to send, a watermelon is a welcome offering, even i can't screw up a watermelon. :)

Hope you all enjoy your 4th!

so what do you do?

Random shots of where i spend my days....
facing this way...
( my crazy messy desk! the purple bird was a gift, her name is Stella)

.....or that...

( work in progress...actually this used to be a painting i never quite liked, so i'm reusing the canvas...coat one.)

sometimes i'm in the office....shipping department

or pulling prints.... restoration work...or listing online....or packaging....

i like my work, it's eclectic to say the least, all the unrelated parts make up my career....

this has been the focus of much thought, especially now, with the 20 year reunion coming up...i wonder, how to answer the question...' so what do you do for a living? '

i could honestly give a different answer to most people, and if I figure in all the grouping possibilities, i may be able to give a different answer to everyone who asks....what a concept, a challenge.

I guess once the studio opens, that will be the main answer to give, i own a studio...but that starts up a whole new realm of possible answers...teaching, in my own studio, holding shows, running the shop...

there will be the nurses, the accountants, the teachers, the construction workers, the insurance people, lawyers, computer guys ( or gals)

and then...a artistcreativewriterpoetantiquebookrestorerantiqueprintsandmapdealerartteacher

creativewritingteacherpoetryteachermuralistoccassionalimprovwaitressjewelrymakergalleryowner..... i think i can spit that out quickly, maybe in a sing songy voice,

yeah, it can be done, besides it's all formalities anyways. the only thing that really will be discussed after the fact is how so and so looks, who looks different, who looks better, worse, ha!....sad, but true. :) I'm still looking forward to it. There are so many great people i graduated with that, because of my extreme shyness and the whole structure of the high school experience, never got to know...but through the magic of the internet...have found them and have decided

i really like 'em after all....too bad we can't have a do-over, or spend more time together than just one formal night...but now we are dealing with posturing and the structure of life ...

oh well, still looking forward to it.

i suppose, if asked what i do...i could simply answer, i am an artist. that should encompass the whole of my story...and could have eliminated this entire blog. :)

living shadow

The painting.

"Living Shadow"

Never, ever one to voluntarily speak in front of a crowd or ask to use a microphone...I did.

I had to explain this painting.

It's simple, plain and not really all that exciting...but there was a purpose behind it.
Out of all the ideas I had and all the paintings I started, this one begged to be finished.
To be the debut painting for the foundation.

I was asked to create a piece to be auctioned off each year...
so, in order to fully express my feelings and capture both the heartbreaking loss of David
and the beautiful emerging body of work that is, the David Lytle Memorial Foundation,
I used every color in my paintbox.

This portrays how David soaked up all the colorful people, experiences and adventures he encountered thoughout his life. The bright and shiny, the dull, the dark, the pure, the wild, the cool...and he blended us all together, creating something that wasn't there before.

The landscape was painted to show the vastness of his world. As confined as he was, he lived a large life, far reaching, expansive.

The empty wheelchair, is a sad image, but it casts a living, growing shadow....all of us, we are Dave's living shadow, and it's just budding now,
The David Lytle Memorial Foundation is all about growth and possibilities.
I am honored to be a part of it.

Directly after speaking, I made a beeline for the back door...walked out...sat outside...but I heard that it went for $750.00. Humbling.

sweet fairy tale dreams

I love this bed. I always knew that whenever I replace the bed I've had since a teenager, it would be an iron bed of some sort. Canopy beds and frilly numbers never enticed me, but this is a canopy I could sleep under. It's $15,000...a wee bit out of my price range and budget, (of zero, nada, zilch, nothing....)

But like my foray into welding and all the nifty things I was able to produce, thanks to a generous and adventurous man who turned his studio over to me, maybe I'll meet someone with the tools to go about putting something like this together. Stranger things have happened.

I now have projects of all shapes and sizes in waiting, things I've seen and want to try, techniques that fascinate me, sketches of paintings, outlines of books, skeletons of jewelery designs, themes I want to explore and classes I'd love to teach....along with all the books I want to read and places to explore...

sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I could only focus on one particular thing, to master a certain something and just do that. ( it would make it enormously easier to answer the casual.." so, what do you do for a living? " question!) but, I really enjoy the chaotic commotion and perpetual planning, the uncomfortable newbie feeling and the daydreaming.

Besides, it's all connected, each project feeds on the next and i get to meet all sorts of fascinating new people along the way. There isn't a destination point, like I wrote about in my lost essay, except to experience and create and feel alive everyday. Live inside out, heart on my sleeve, give and love and stay awake......

unless i'm in my tree bed, then i can sleep. :)

http://www.slmetalworks.com/proc_hm.html

living lost

standing in a strange place, wondering....

"Stand still. The trees ahead and bush beside you are not lost."
~Albert Einstein

"only when you are lost can love find itself in you without losing its way. "
~helene cixous

lost, is a common problem of mine, tends to occur between projects, as much as i fuss about deadlines...i do believe i would be a stagnant pool without the waves in the stormy sea of work to push me along.
I am facing a deadline right now. That painting. Yes, that one. The one to be auctioned off at David's benefit dinner. It makes me sad and I run away....or turn the stereo up to a deafening volume, or make yet another pot of coffee, I've also gone dancing, took the kids fishing, went to the pool and finished a book, I've played chutes and ladders and rode bikes. Procrastination is good for my children and friends and other jobs.

The work will be done. It always gets done. But in the meantime,
I'm living lost.

There are ghosties in the lost, memories and reality get mixed up and rolled together.
Being with friends and family when lost is okay...talking to strangers is not. Last night, while having a crazy fun time dancing to my favorite band, a stranger approached...i had no defense, not a clue what to do or say and so, i smiled and walked away...then left. May have confused the poor fella, but trust me, I am much more confused!

I was lost when I little and painfully shy, the lisp, the stutter kept me silent, when speech therapy was the only time I spoke in public.
Lost is okay, lost makes sense to me and my artist brain,
lost allows connections to form where there aren't any clear pathways.
Lost doesn't scare me. It reminds me of who I am.

this very bizzare rambling is nothing more than an attempt to make a little sense of where i am,
but without a clear, precise destination, I suppose here is just as good as anywhere.

“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? she asked.
Where do you want to go? was his response.
I don't know, Alice answered.
Then, said the cat, it doesn't matter.”

swan song

One picture was found on the dying camera...she gave it her all. :)

Doesn't this place just make you want to hang out here, so comfy and friendly.

wish series

This one is "wish crayon" it's just a fun group of pieces in a funky doodle frame, each canvas is watercolor/acrylic dipped, then painted over and the little wish/energy/collaged spheres, are pieces of other dipped paper...i like these groupings. Far from perfect, this is the result of playtime in the studio.

Treehouse!

The Treehouse
820 College Ave.Cleveland, Ohio 44113
Tremont

"If down-to-earth is your style, stop in at the Treehouse, where the beer list is taller than the giant tree behind the bar." (a little review found on the web) seriously though, I fell in love with this building and the comfy cozy feel of the place.

My art is up for the next two Tremont Art Walks, held the second Friday of each month,

July 11th and August 8th. My art loves this place too, the trees are so happy here ... I brought my camera...but, in the mad rush to have everything purty for the show, I forgot to charge it, much like my neglected and uncharged phone.

I will take a little trip up to visit soon and will also be posting some pics of my new artwork.

The art has taken a good turn, it's playful and fun and seems to smile at you.

The creepy trees are in a good mood these days.

Anyways, please take a looksie at the Treehouse sometime. I will be at the art walks and lurking around every so often with my little red camera.

going sane

here she is, Imagine Studios....figure i don't have nearly enough stuff to do, only the benefit dinner and auction, 20+ paintings due within the week, hundreds of prints to scan and list for the book dealer, the twenty year high school reunion, volunteer for the swim team, little league games, soccer games...the mountains of laundry and the feeding of growing athletes...

highly distracted, this bright and shiny ( if only in my imagination) building caught my eye, a half mile from my house, a quick bike ride to work. :)

the plan, to offer classes here...rather than travel from one part of the state to the other...hold my own shows, pour my life into one neighborhood for once.

it needs a little work, has three rooms, this front one for the public, for classes and eventually monthly shows...the next room, nearly as big, for my own studio, there is a wall in this space where the bakery had commercial sinks ( I need to find myself some of these!)
this will also be a good place for my kids to hang out...then the back room has two little bathrooms ( much cleaning needed ) and walls of shelves, a nice little storage room.

Crazy excited about the prospect of this whole new venture. Will hang on to two of my teaching contracts and the work with the book dealer...crazy, but not stupid, will need the income.
I've been dreaming about this for so long, have notebooks full of details, plans, ideas...now I need to transfer them all into something a left brained human can decipher. Spreadsheets, business plans, finances....not afraid, just have to remember $4.00 a gallon...now that scares me!

up and coming art shows

well, well, well....whatdoyaknow......been laying low for awhile now, but am being pulled back into the mix....very selectively., very very selective, turned down a few iffy venues and bad fits...settled on the following....

I'm setting up a show at the Treehouse in Tremont...my stuff goes up June 18th will be up during the two summer Art Walks, held on the second friday of each month. 20-some paintings/collage/sculpturey stuff, all brand new....

And...I'm participating in the JAR festival again this year, June Artists Review, downtown at the Galleria....this is always a great time, local bands, poetry,short plays, artists of all styles, the place is enormous, lots to see ........

KICK-OFF PARTY JUNE 6TH, 6p.m.-11p.m. FREE TO ALL
Over 17,000 Square Feet to Showcase the Wealth of Art in Our Area.

The "JAR"We're Blowing the Lid Off the Art and Talent of Greater Cleveland!
Cleveland's First Truly Integrated Art Experience


And...June 28th is the David Lytle Memorial Foundation benefit dinner and auction...I am committed to donating a piece of art each year to be auctioned off. This painting is enormously hard to finish, too many emotions to handle sometimes, but it's coming together nicely. Dave was such a huge part of my life and really why I am confident enough to pursue this,( and my teaching, writing...) he encouraged me in a way I could 'hear'. I miss him intensely, but everyday am so thankful I had the time with him I did.


hope you all can stop in to see me at one of these events! I'll be the one with the too big smile, most likely laughing and gesturing for no apparent reason. :)

seinfeld moment

"what kind of dog does George Clooney have?" was the casual question posed....

"WHY would I know that?" was the too quick answer I gave....

Normally not an immediate reactor, my slightly self righteous, or condecending tone took me back a bit. Answering a question with a question, generally not a good idea either.

Once I realized everyone else at the table seemed to know all sorts of little facts about this man and his animals, I felt like slinking out the back door. Why, how, do they all know this? I don't know the names of all my friends children, definitely not their ages, or if they have pets....

To be honest I know alot of little factoids about this celebrity or that, i listen to the radio, NPR, World Cafe and stand in line at the grocery store and soak in all the magazine front covers ...but at the same time i have little interest in the lives of the rich and famous, the popular crowd just never had me envious. I don't really care how they lost their weight or if they gained ten pounds...or what pets they have.

Come to find out, he has a pot belly pig and did or does have boxers ( in case you are every asked...and if you really want to admit that you know) This is actually relevant .... in a round about way.... my kids came across a white boxer pup that was to be put down by the breeder, because she isn't show quality....well, in the midst of my deadline induced frenzy...i said yes...to another animal. So, Gertie, the 8 week white boxer is now mine. Just like George Clooney.

rough seas

Dear Anyone,


I am in a funk, a serious nasty case of the down and outs. Things have been piling up on top of each other, a terrible tower of 'to do's'. Even though I really do love what I do for a living, all the pieces one by one are perfectly perfect for me, the deadlines this month have slammed me into a wall. I can't see a happy ending, even with my Pollyanna glasses on. There's too much, simply more than I can handle. I'm trying, squeezing every possible ounce of creative energy out of this vessel...but can't do it all.

I'm actually longing to do laundry or clean the bathroom, that is not normal.

The worst part is the deadlines, I don't mind the events so much, the dinners, the parents nights, the recitals... as the artificial 'complete by' mandates put down by the company I subcontract through. There is really no good reason to have these in place. I'm not so good with rules, ( hence the self employment), so the more I'm given these orders, the more I feel like rebeling...such a baby, I know. Writing this out is helpful.

All the school's are coming to an end, there are celebrations and events galore...and...as a teacher, I guess it looks as though I am a responsible adult, and so, get invited to chaperone trips. ( which I love ) Recently went as a driver/chaperone/judge to a fine art festival in southern ohio and in a couple weeks get an all expenses paid vacation to the Outer Banks..all I have to do is keep an eye on some graduated seniors. only, totally worth it.

There are only 36 hours left before this latest enormous project is due...those 36 hours have to include sleep time, coffee making time, potty time, talking to my kids time, maybe feeding them...at the rate I've been going, this is a completely unrealistic timeline. I will give it my all, and probably hit it, just because..as much as I hate rules and deadlines...at the same time, I love a challenge. Even if it throws me into the ugly lonelies and makes me want to toss my computer out the window...I will most likely do this again in a couple weeks and then probably bid on another completely unrealistic project .... get it..... and then long to clean my closet.....

knew me when

Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.....my monkey's are home. These silly little fellas were sketched out back in, um...1990-something....paint was added to their bodies around 2003 or so...the background added here and there in 2006 or 7...and finally framed a several months later. They made a few art shows, traveled to a cafe for a surprise showing and now...they are home.

I know, as an artist, ( especially an artist who relies on this income, ) selling these critters should have been a goal, but I've learned. ..there are some pieces that aren't meant to be sold, it took me a long time to realize this simple fact. Some art attaches itself to your life and shouldn't be sent away in exchange for a silly electric bill. The history of my life is in them. While these were just sketches they moved no less than 6 times, there wasn't a real plan, i just drew them, that's all...in fact there are other sketches on the flip side of the monkeys.

There were other pieces that I've lost forever, no record of their existence, sold before i thought it would be wise to take photos or scan them for my portfolio. Or gessoed over in a fit of sheer hatred for everything i've ever done.

They aren't masterpieces, no incredible works of art, just drawings...made before I would dare tell anyone I was an artist, this was hidden art, just for me.

I like their simplicity, I like that they knew me 'when'.

Caution Tape

she walks.

the road falls away.

unnoticed.

dark clouds loom

unaware.

cracks, loose gravel, a detour sign

unheeded.

the secret world within is greater than the reality without

she observes, loosely, distracted

lost...in thought

in creation

in the energy of life



she meanders along

stopping only to touch

live wires

addicted to the shock

the waves of electricity

the current of her feelings



i wish

begins every sentence

wide eyed and dreaming

she walks.

it's my birthday

wish i could rearrange these posts, but i'm not sure how...anyways, this was written march 5th, 2008...it was the beginning of the fairy tale ending...see below.


it's my birthday......

....and i'll wish if i want to...because that's what you do on birthdays. i wrote 38 wishes down in my journal this morning, threw birthday dust on my kids and spun it through the house....thought i'd post my wishes, but then, if i did, they wouldn't come true, unrevokable birthday knowledge.

This is my all time favorite holiday. My birthday. The day I came to life. How can you not celebrate this, how can people mourn their birthdays, dread them....i will never understand. The other holidays are all so much work, so many expectations and requirments. Your birthday is just that, yours. Do something different each year, or nothing at all. Lovely. sit back, enjoy.
After knowing more of my story, finding out who i really am, and how i came to be...this day holds so much more emotion for me, makes so much more sense.

The silver cords that bind each of us to those we love are tugged a little harder, the memories pass a little sharper, the connections seem uncanny. Sometime over the night, the woman who haunts my sleep, and the man who loves her with a romantic fierceness fairytales are made of, broke her hip. This man who loves her, accidently fell on her. This couple i wrote of so many times, this couple who raised me and like the fairies in rumplestilsken, blessed me with unusual gifts, and as their legend goes, "they will one day die beside each other, like romeo and juliet, one cannot live without the other" he followed the ambulance to the hospital, complained of chest pains, so he wouldn't be forced to leave her side, besides, he didn't know his way home from this strange hospital, far away form the solar paneled house they built in the Michigan woods with their own hands. Today, of all days. Fitting somehow.

... i opened a message, 'happy birthday' from a part of my life that i've always known, but never knew. this girl who i've seen in fits and starts, who disapears and becomes unknowable...just like i do...who lives inside out and upside down...on purpose sometimes...just like i do....so many years, so many memories...all different, but the same.

today, yes, it's fitting. connections and silver cords and pieces of my heart thrown about like the magical birthday dust i pretend we are full of on our birthdays. It's meant to share and sprinkle and create tsunami waves of love....

thank you jacqueline, i love you too.

heart games

it’s a sick game really
blame boredom
tossing my heart into fast moving traffic
just to watch it squirm as it dodges
leaps and lunges to avoid sheer disaster

strangely addictive
dangerous, evil even
my heart is so fragile
i feel the need to toughen it up
it’s naive
people with road rage confuse her

Maybe it’s not so bad
maybe i’m like a mama bird pushing her out to learn to fly
or a trainer getting her ready for the big day
or, maybe it’s punishment for leaving me wide open
not locking the doors
or turning out the light

whatever the reason
i toss it out again and again
she always comes back
a little worse for the wear
a bit bruised
but wiser

my beautiful grandma, as drawn by my grandpa.

solitary confinment

traveled alone this weekend to my grandma’s funeral. i could have gone up with family, saved some money, spent some time talking...but...i didn’t. no offense to friends or family, but sometimes ya’ll just wear me out. a true introvert, i crave silence, solitary confinement, toss in a little loneliness and i can create again.

besides, i travel through this life a million miles an hour, rushing here, rushing there, behind schedule on everything, like the white rabbit in wonderland, i’m late, i’m late for a very important date. everything seems important, urgent, necessary....but this weekend....i got to travel at a leisurly 70 mile per hour pace...alone.

everything stopped.

traveling alone in a car for so many hoursmy soul got a chance to stretch out in the backseatthoughts finally got a chance to speak their mind and even converseamongst themselves. although, often, i’d have to turn the radio up to chest thumbing, earsplitting volumes to drown out their intenstity especially when the thoughts would start to get too personal, start pushing my buttons.

after the funeral i checked into a hotel. alone. i drew. swam, listened to music, took a bath, watched a movie, read a book, slept with no alarm, i could run away, i could live in this hotel i thought, forever...then i got the bill under my door and realized home was a much better deal.

the drive back was uneventful, my mind shifted to neutral, relaxed, driving under blue skies, everything seems okay again,
manageable chaos.
physically and mentally, home.

fairy tale ending

My favorite fairy tale is coming to an end. The fairy princess has already fell into her deep sleep, her prince not far behind. He wants nothing more than to fulfill their special pact. Made when the story was just beginning.

Some couples talk about what each other should do when they die, where important documents are, should I sell the house, remarry....not these two romantic fools....no, they knew one couldn’t exist without the other...besides they craved the drama, the romeo and juliet passion, their to hell with what people think mindset. I was little, living in their home, listening to the beautiful, tragic ending of this couple again and again. She’d wear a fancy long silk nightgown and robe, he’d wear two piece striped pajamas, they’d take a long nap, side by side for eternity. It was death, but they made it sound so beautiful.

Being told this story for so many years, I knew it was coming, I know people die, I know grandparents won’t be around forever, I know. And the sadness isn’t the helpless feeling that I had when friends or friends children die. It’s not the shock and pain of sudden loss or the agony of a drawn out illness. It’s the end of the best story I ever read. It’s the closing of the book. The selfish sadness of not being able to show her my purple office decorated in her eccentric style or have her ooo and ahh over a new painting, or share words, one poet to another.

Shirley, the poet, songwriter, artist, birdloving gardener. The one with the solar powered house, in the middle of michigan wilderness, with homemade security systems and flowers galore. Trips to Nashville to plug demo tapes and accept awards. Black coffee, dark chocolate, jump ropes, suntanning in the buff.

The world didn’t exist for her most of the time, reality wasn’t necessary, she built her world, she wrote the story, she played the beautiful leading lady, her deep blue eyes and black as night hair, shy, but certain. She knew the end. She wrote it.

sadness sponge

It may be true that misery loves company,
but sadness, sadness just needs space.
Sadness soaks up the tears, fills up every pore.
The memories need to marinate.
The soul quietly collects its souvenirs before moving along

Sadness calls you to look her in the eye
gaze inside, don’t be afraid
the water is deep, still and crystal clear
pause. look. remember.

rest your head on her lap
she’s gentle, and soft...but strong, lean in
sadness supports you now
shut your eyes,

no words, no questions
there’s no comfort in answers
just rest and sadness will
rock you to sleep

shhhhh.....

'Little Red'

playing with a new scanner, pulled this off my mantle, it's rough, but it's mine, i made this a few years ago.

i love this fairy tale with a bizarre intensity, through libary book sales and thrift stores i have numerous versions of this...and... my winter coat looks very similiar to hers. :)

the big bad wolf, the woods, grandma's house...these are a few of my favorite things.

i read

i read

i am a reader,
i read all the time.
stealing moments,
i read like a starving wolf,
gulping words,
devouring pages,
looking for something lost in the dark.

i read
as i walk through the house
carry books in the car in case a meeting is postponed or there is a major delay on the freeway
i prop books up while loading the dishwasher,. folding laundry, waiting for web pages to load

this obsession isn't new, but it's taken on a new life

i read rather than sleep anymore

the words not fully making their way to my brain

but necessary all the same.