Part 4

I SHOULD create because if I’m going to be rebel, I might find something worthwhile as I explore.

Here’s another double blind. I should be obedient while being a rebel. And again that unspoken standard is invoked as the ultimate authority to who I gleefully bow.

Part 3

I SHOULD create more so I can make more mistakes. The more mistakes I make the greater the chances I will get something worthwhile

This one is a bit twisted. The assumption is almost the opposite of the first one.  Making mistakes is seen as a cool option, paradoxically in-service of not making mistakes. I’m not sure that actually makes simple sense. The implication is that if I make even more mistakes than I make now I might get something good. There’s also an implication that there is some standard by which a mistake and worthwhile are defined, and that is something I have agreed to and aspire to.  The Edison theory of the failures it took to make a light bulb at its worst.

Part 2

Guardian/Parents/Betterthans

I SHOULD create because I have a gift. Whatever I do is meant to be. I am full of divine love. I really can’t do anything that is ultimately wrong in my artwork or life because I am loved and accepted.

I like this one because I seem to be some kind of special Star that will not be affected by uncomfortable events or emotions. Anyone who doesn’t like what I do is the one who’s wrong. Not me. Mostly I would rather be right than Queen.I SHOULD create on a regular schedule, treating my artwork as though it were a paying job. If I simply buckled down, I could do more and better work.

This one appeals to me because no amount of self castigation or self shaming can make my disabilities go away.  I would really like to have my disabilities go away. There’s also a not too subtle dig in there finances and artwork.

The Reptile Council 

Part 1

9 Reasons I SHOULD Create:

Prescriptions for Pthooey

I find it very easy to listen to my Reptile Council* about why I should create. Often, these voices in my head mimic very good reasons or excellent advice… at least at first they do.  If I listen a bit, I recognize the word should as one that indicates that I will fail in some way if I do not do what is prescribed for me. I find that this kind of “good advice” has a nasty twist somewhere in it.

There is another voice in my head, that of my mother.  She once said to a physician, regarding his recommendations, ”You prescribe; I’ll decide.”

This says to me is that prescriptions are form of advice, often sound and reasonable, but not necessarily something that is right for me at this moment. This offers me a great opportunity to spread responsibility around, and blaming someone else’s prescription is a fun way to do it.  I love to deny my responsibility.  When I do I lose my voice, my power and my choices. OOPSIE!!!

Despite knowing this, in my creative journey, I have spent a great deal of energy blaming others, who have offered even very good advice. In truth,  I am the one who has wandered from my unique creative path.

So put your tongue is firmly in your cheek, dig out the hipwaders, And go for Journey to visit the reptiles.  It’s pretty deep there.

Disclaimer: all of these SHOULD create notions may have a great deal of truth to them. The thing that they lack is my personal clear hearted motivation. See Personal Lodestones*. (Parts  __________)

I am a lover of beauty, truth, honor, depth and hope, and I present fine art doorways for the soul. The doorways are invitational: What worlds will you visit? What meanings will emerge? What draws you? Where will your journey begin? Pattern, form, line, space, color, and sometimes figurative or natural suggestions are the things that I use to bring these inquiries to the doorway. I often begin a work because I am entranced with a color, or a shape, or a feeling or a mood. Sometimes this comes from a visual stimulus, but very often the visual follows the leading of my heart, my soul, my spirit. Many things inspire me: my friends, my family, my studies, my spirituality, my world, and my life.

I often start a work with a great burst of energy, allowing the impression of the underlying truth to be simply expressed without concern for specifics. These broad shapes and color areas form the basis for the work, and set its tone.

Next, I have a dialogue with what I have put down, and my introspection will often allow patterns of meaning emerge. How do they move? Staccato? Flowingly? Are there several voices singing at once? How does each rhythm bring out more of the truth of the work? I enhance the rhythm through shapes and tones and colors.

A difficult stage – often the “awkward adolescence” of the work – is the stage of honor. Here I have to find ways to add content and meaning, as well as personal integrity. My spirituality is such that I must do that which feels honest, whole and respectful of my experience. At times, this is without literal content but often a particular identifiable form may emerge as a sigil of my intent and understanding.

Bringing depth to a piece requires application and reapplication of media, often layers on layers on layers. I think of this as looking at a gemstone from many angles, in varying lights. While I know that my work is a single static piece, I intend the layers to show the process and the facets of that which I express. I love doing this because I have a chance to set a context for the finished piece.

Hope comes from the finishing. My work is often very energetic and vibrant. In the finishing – which often includes application of drawing techniques, gilding, color washes and very fine detailing – I present a new vision coming from the piece. It is a challenge for me to maintain the integrity of the piece as a whole, while offering possibilities. I love what I do. If I did not, I would not.