Amazon

Bookstore in the sky.

Parisian chair, finished

Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to add the flowers to the chair. I gaze at this chair far more often than I sit on it. She has so many stories to tell, I can feel that. She can't say anything so I can only imagine. How did she get to New Mexico? Maybe D.H. lawrence or Ansel Adams or Georgia O'Keeffe sat on her at Mabel Dodge Luhan's salon in Taos. She has so many stories to tell, I can feel it.

Old tangerine

Sometimes when I buy a piece of fruit it's not quite ready to eat right away. Then I forget about it and by the time I remember it's turned dry and leathery. I'm sorry, tangerine.

Parisian chair, unfinished

I love this chair, it's one of the fanciest things I own. I found it years ago at an antique store in Santa Fe. It actually has needlepoint flowers on the upholstery but I didn't have time to paint them in. I thought it might be interesting to post a work in progress. I like the simplicity of the way it looks now, so I might not paint the flowers in after all. Or I might, who knows?

Broccoli

I'm taking a quick break from studying neuroanatomy. This looks like a brain and spinal cord, doesn't it?

Mexican bird

A small wooden bird with big wire feet.

The Year of the Ox

I just returned from an incredible feast in celebration of the Chinese New Year. My friend Yato cooked 10 different dishes that included tofu, ginger, shrimp, a variety of mushrooms, and tea infused sauces. There was an honorary fish not meant to be eaten, but to show that there will be abundance in the New Year. We spent the rest of the afternoon at her tea table sampling high quality oolong teas she brought from China. Yato has exquisite taste in tea and we were carried away from the Year of the Rat on flavors that expanded far beyond the size of their tiny cup.

I made a post card this morning to commemorate the event. The front is a collage in honor of the Year of the Ox, the back is a vintage post card from Japan. 

Movie Star

It was one of those days where time stood still. No, not still exactly, but moved at an angle. Time shifted at an angle different than most other days. We saw the first showing of "Revolutionary Road" this afternoon, it cut straight to the emotional bone. From the theater we drove silently down Central until we reached the end of the road, eating lunch at a BBQ joint at three in the afternoon. 

A yellow silhouette against the dark blue sky, the Sandia mountains looked like a cardboard cutout on a movie set. Eating lunch at three in the afternoon, far off the edge of my beaten path, reminded of the days when I first moved to Albuquerque fifteen years ago. How I had so much time then, and loved exploring the city that was so unlike where I came from on the East Coast. Old neon, antique shops, diners, remnants of Route 66. I'm in awe of how writers and actors and artists can do that, cut straight to the emotional bone, reminding you of how things used to be this way, or could have been that. The movie made Louie sad, which he reacted to by feeling angry. I told him that was a great example of what I just learned about the insular cortex. It's the part of the brain that tells us how we feel about what we feel.

Ginger

Ginger helps.

Pastels are the fastest medium, the one I choose when I have limited time to draw. I only have a few stubs left at this point, and never have the colors I actually want, so I try to get as close a color as I can, then see things only in terms of value. Recession drawing!

More Amma

I'm sick today and feeling sorry for myself. Too miserable to figure out what to draw, more healing energy is needed!

Shigaraki ware

Shigaraki ware is pottery known for its oatmeal and reddish brown glaze. It is from one of Japan's "Six ancient kilns". I bought these four cups for a tea ceremony I had a few years ago. I served toasted rice tea with flecks of gold leaf from Kanazawa.

Boulders

These are not boulders. I can't remember what they're called. I found them at my friend Jacque's house, she brought them back from her travels in Peru. They're stones that are smoothed and carved in the shape of mountain peaks and used by shaman for healing. The people of Peru revere the mountain peaks. They're beautiful but I couldn't quite capture it. I tried three quick sketches, but none of them seem quite right, so I thought I'd post them all.

The title "Boulders" refers to a horoscope I saved from a few weeks ago. From the I Ching, "Obstacles are a natural part of life, just as boulders are a natural part of the course of a river. The river does not complain or get depressed because there are boulders in its path".

Amma doll

I start school again tomorrow and I've been filled with tremendous waves of sadness and anxiety all day. Part of it is due to school itself, and part is due to the fact that I know school, and life in general, would be more manageable if I weren't trying to draw every day. I could stop, put all my focus in one direction, but the same old question arises, then "When?" It will be years before I have a reasonable amount of time to make art, and I've already done so much waiting.

It is for this reason that I've drawn my Amma doll. Amma is a living saint from India. She does incredible humanitarian work and is well known for hugging everyone who makes the pilgrimmage to see her. To date she has hugged 26 million people, and sleeps only an hour or two a night. My trying to "do it all" seems miniscule in comparison.

Chiang mai tea cup

One of the highlights of my trip to Chiang Mai, Thailand was staying at Baan Orapin. And it cost less than a Motel 6 in the US! Dark teak wood, thai silk, the soft billow of the mosquito net over my bed, bamboo clacking outside my window, the cool blue pool in the hot afternoon. It was at the shop next door that I found this tea set. I couldn't resist the celadon glaze and the elephant handles. 

I loved the lemongrass "tea" in Thailand. Lemongrass picked straight from the ground, chopped up and boiled. Refreshing.

Shimekazari

I just returned from celebrating Hatsugama in honor of O-Shogatsu with my tea friends. O-shogatsu means "New Year" and Hatsugama is the first tea ceremony of the year. My friend Tara served tea chabako style. Chabako is a picnic style tea ceremony, or "Tea in the wild". All the tea tools are a bit smaller and come in a wooden box. It was beautiful in her tea house with both the sun and the cold.

I love the decorations used to celebrate the New Year in Japan. I remembered that I bought a rubber stamp of a shimekazari when I was there. Shimekazari are hung over the doorways and signify that the home is a temporary residence of Toshigami, the divinity that brings good luck at the beginning of the new year.

Opening shop

Open house! Everyone is invited to the opening of my new Etsy store. You'll see old friends there and snacks will be served. Opening the store was one of my holiday break goals and with two days left of vacation I finally pulled it off. I'll be adding a few new images every day.

I had a lot of fun learning how to make a banner with my limited photoshop experience. I liked the last one the best. Maybe I'll rotate them, or even create more. I tried to sell a few things on ebay in the past, but I hated seeing my little drawings float through the auction all alone and unnoticed, lost in a sea of strangers. On Etsy they can be amongst family until they're ready to fly off into the arms of someone else who will love them.

Hot chocolate on receipt

I sketched my hot chocolate at The Station coffee shop while Louie read the newspaper, the chandelier glittering behind him.

Lanterns on receipts

Yesterday I stopped for a ginger matcha latte at The Teahouse in Santa Fe. Determined to keep up with my daily drawing I brought my art supplies along. It sounds romantic, but it's actually quite a pain to carry art supplies on your wanderings. They're heavy, and you always have that feeling that you're supposed to be doing something more than just being.

Expecting to sketch a tea cup or a honey jar, I was so excited when I looked up to see many paper lanterns in different shapes and sizes. I was thankful I had my art supplies then. I'd thought of everything, colored pencils, eraser, pencil sharpener, and a little bag to catch the pencil shavings from the sharpener. When I realized I forgot to bring paper to draw on I nearly flew off the handle. But I heard a whisper, "Is-ness, is-ness. Remember?". Then I realized I could draw on the old receipts stuffed in my purse.

Back to School

The teacher entering the classroom looks just like my mom did in the seventies. She was an art teacher in the local elementary schools when I was young. They didn't have any art rooms so my dad built a big cart out of wood and painted it bright orange. It was called the "Art Cart" and it was filled with all the art supplies a room full of kids could need. She pushed it down the hall and wheeled it from room to room. I remember that feeling of being both excited and mortified when the big orange cart entered my classroom. What ever became of the Art Cart?

Classroom

I'm out of town for a couple of days and don't have access to a scanner, so I'm posting another oldie. Trying to get the last bit of vacation into my vacation before school starts. I'm so good at vacationing, I wish I could just be a professional Enjoyer. 

The teacher is quietly preparing her classroom before the students return, powerpoints completed, handouts assembled. The scene is a bit too colorful for grad school, but one can always dream.

The question remains

Stacked books

Time to pick up the books and go back to school. Goodbye art books, I won't forget you.

For Rodin

"There is really neither beautiful style, nor beautiful drawing, nor beautiful color; there is but one sole beauty, that of the truth that is revealed". -Auguste Rodin

For Georgia

I love this quote by Georgia O'keeffe. "There is nothing less real than realism. Details are confusing. It is only by selection, by elimination, by emphasis that we get at the real meaning of things."

For Cezanne

Cezanne is one of my favorite painters. How could he not be? As I read about his technique of using subtly modulated contrasting colors in interlocking planes I thought "Okay, yes, yes, I'm getting this, I can do that." But the next paragraph began, "This tortuous process of modulating nearly killed the man". Oh dear. I can believe it though. Just doing a quick sketch of his work became agonizing. While his style looks so loose and free, it was interesting to learn that he painted very slowly and carefully, working on the same canvas for years.

Scattered books

Last night, after typing in "Why do some drawings float?", it dawned on me that maybe I look too often to google for answers. So I sat with cup of orange pekoe and looked through all my art books on the living room floor. It turns out I have a book called "Techniques of the Great Masters of Art". I had completely forgotten! I didn't find the answer to the mystery of floating, but I was in awe of how painters would do so many beautifully detailed sketches and spend years on just one painting. Even after reading about their techniques it still just seems like magic to me.

Orange pekoe, with sky

My friend Ilira sent me a box of beautiful hand made treasures. In it was this tea cup and some orange pekoe tea. I love the glaze on the tea cup, it looks like the clay was pressed with one of those wood textile printing blocks from India. I noticed that the sky was reflected in the tea and I tried to capture that.

I just couldn't figure out how to get it to look like a sky in tea, and not stripes. I'm at the point where I'm longing for some informed drawing lessons. I know I'm just practicing but I keep running into the same problems. How do you make colors darker without adding black? Lighter without adding white? When I add those two "colors" the drawing turns instantly cooler. And I still can't figure out how to keep things on the ground. Sometimes the objects I draw float, sometimes they don't, but why? I don't like posting drawings that I don't think are "good", but I don't have time for do-overs. Is-ness, is-ness. *sigh*

Japanese pincushion

I'm doing a deep house cleaning right now, getting rid of everything I don't love or need. I rediscovered this pincushion that I bought at a flea market in Kyoto. It's made of kimono scraps and a little ceramic pot. It qualifies as something I love.

Chandelier

There's now a train that goes from Albuquerque to Santa Fe. Next to the main train stop in Santa Fe is a great little coffee shop called The Station. That's where I found this gorgeous antique chandelier. I would love to go back and paint it because with drawing I had to think in reverse by protecting the white areas instead of painting them in with highlights at the end. I absolutely adore chandeliers.

I've had the great fortune of taking a few workshops with the amazing dancer, musician, and teacher Gabrielle Roth. Through her years of dance she discovered that all movement comes down to five rhythms; flowing, staccato, chaos, lyrical, and stillness. By being fully present in one rhythm you can move more easily into the next without being thrown off center. For example, driving from Vermont (flowing) to New York City (chaos). An hour outside of NYC you move into staccato with small adjustments such as sitting up straighter in the driver's seat, both hands on the wheel, and adjusting the mirrors as you feel yourself being pulled into a vortex. Without shifting those rhythms you may well get run over.

Gabrielle told us a story about a time she had lunch with a friend. She entered the restaurant and sat down at the table where her friend was already seated. After a few minutes she asked her friend if she wouldn't mind if they sat at another table. Moments after they moved, a chandelier came crashing down on the table where they were originally sitting. Gabrielle pointed out that it wasn't that she had a psychic moment, like a vision, but that after years of movement she is so present in her body that she must have felt the subtle energy of something moving toward it. And her body knew to get out of the way.

Icy bath

Today, as I was having lunch, I noticed this Japanese stone bird bath filled with ice outside the restaurant window. I was happy I had a pencil on hand.

Is-ness

This year I'd like to truly live in the moment, even if it's a moment I can't stand. According to spiritual teachers of all traditions, and now brain scientists, there is great peace and freedom there. I'm very good at living in the moment when it's a moment I like, such as enjoying a banana shake while sitting on the beach in Thailand, but not so good at it while sitting for a fourth hour of powerpoint lecture. 

The thing is, when I leave the moment during a situation I don't like, my mind races to everything I've done in the past that has gotten me to where I am now, and everything I'll change in the future so I'll never feel miserable again. Then, by the fourth hour of powerpoint lecture, I'm lost in a full blown fantasy of some other life I could have been leading if I'd only done this or that. But I'm also wise enough to know that if I were living that other life I'd probably be fantasizing about this one. That's what can happen just from leaving the Now.

So, my intention for this new year is to practice staying present, surrendering to "what is", the is-ness, of the moments I can't stand. I hear there is great peace and freedom there. Happy New Year!