Peanuts

Bubble wrap

Hangers

Today I hit the crying phase of moving. It came on suddenly while taking clothes off their hangers.

The Stack

The worst thing about moving is having to face The Stack. All those papers that you don't know where to put so you put them in The Stack. Things you really should attend to get put on top, as an official declaration that you will certainly do them right away, until they get covered by something you really, really swear you won't forget. When you move, as if things aren't hard enough, you are forced to go head on with The Stack. This drawing may be an over exaggeration, but it's definitely what it feels like.

Snake medicine

Last night I was walking along the trail behind my house, sort of saying goodbye. There were rabbits and roadrunners, the sun was setting and rosemary filled the air. I decided that the two things I would miss the most about the house are the luxurious bathtub and the huge windows with the beautiful view.

I was feeling a little gun shy about walking on trails and found myself saying "Aagh, I really hope I don't see a snake again". But I instantly remembered my lesson. I quickly visualized my world the way I wished it could be, filled with light and freedom, happiness and riches. Then a piece of trash on the trail caught my eye.

When I looked at it this is what I first read, "The sky's the limit". I turned it over to see the most beautiful bathroom, flooded with light. A bathroom designed in Asian style, more lovely than I'd thought to dream of, with a luxurious tub and a beautiful view. Yes, this page from a magazine lay alone on the side of an otherwise very clean trail!

I walked back home overflowing with gratitude and faith. I'm excited about the new apartment, it's close to everything I do, I'll be able to walk to school, it has great landscaping including a rosemary bush just outside the window. "I just pray that I'll feel safe there", I said as I walked to get the mail.

I looked inside the box to see a lone piece of junk mail. "Blah", I thought. But when I pulled it out this is what I read, "Guarantee your home is protected".

All this is true, not a fantasy like my spring break in Japan adventure. Today's daily art work is using the photoshop brush to highlight certain points. I thought of trying to paint the photo of the bathroom, but there was no way I could convey how much light was flooding the room. I just had to show the real thing.

Things

A few of my favorite things, waiting to be packed.

The gift

Louie and I recounted yesterday's adventures over and over. "I thought it was a piece of wood, until I saw it blink", I said about the owl. "I didn't know why you were running, I thought it was a piece of wood", Louie said about the snake. We both agreed that there's nothing like seeing a snake in the wild to bring you back into the present moment.

When I stayed at a curandera's house deep in the jungle of Oaxaca, the crashing sound of the river nearby was constant. I had to consciously tell my brain over and over that what I was hearing was a river, not traffic. It took half the night before my brain could truly accept that new reality.

All this reminds me of what the Indians saw when Spanish ships first came to shore. The people could see the ocean moving in strange ways, but they couldn't understand why. It was the Shaman that identified the ships, because he had the gift, the ability to see into other worlds. The people had never seen ships before. They could not physically see what they could not yet understand.

Salinas valley pueblos

Today was one of those unexpected mystical days. Louie and I set out to the mountains for breakfast and a short hike. One road led to another and we found ourselves at the ancient pueblo ruins of Quarai. In one of the high black windows near the altar there was a huge owl watching us.

The scent of wild roses filled the air along the trail surrounding the pueblo. As we walked I noticed my mind repeating "I hope we don't see a snake, I hope we don't see a snake". I suddenly remembered the law of attraction, The Secret, and the like. The idea that the Universe doesn't hear the word "Don't" and could only hear me saying "I hope we see a snake". I quickly changed my mind's mantra to "I want to see a beautiful flower" when BAM! An enormous bull snake lay on the path.

After I bolted I was able to observe something from my brain studies. My primitive brain noticed that snake before my conscious mind did. I remember bolting at the speed of light before I really knew why. As I was running I felt my conscious mind spell out S-N-A-K-E, then I heard the word SNAKE, then I saw the image of a snake in my mind, then turned around to see that that was indeed why I was running. Luckily bull snakes, while intimidating, are not poisonous.

Our day took us deeper into southern New Mexico, exploring old ruins neither of us had heard of. The water jug is from the pueblo of Gran Quivira. Lunch was in Mountainair, among cowboys who, arriving for brunch after church, hung their hats on the Texas longhorn mounted over the door.

Growth

I recently read an article in How magazine about daily art bloggers. I laughed out loud when I read Randy Plowman of A Collage a Day state, "I don't like doing it". Then he said something about not liking to think about it, but when he's actually making the piece, he gets into it. It reminded me of the Dorothy Parker quote, "I hate writing. I love having written". How true it is.

Monk

Another thing about moving is finding old photos. Monk's real name was Skippy. He had an extra long tail, two inches longer than the average cat's when measured by ruler, and it had a white tip at the end. It looked like a monkey's tail, and through a metamorphosis of cute silly nicknames, he became better known as "Monk".

I recently heard a Buddhist teacher speak about relationships. He pointed out that all relationships end. They end either through death or estrangement. Once we fully understand and accept that, we are free to love. We spend so much time worrying that someone will leave us, or in fear of the day we will lose them. But all relationships end, either in death or estrangement. Knowing that gives us the freedom to truly love. It really helped to hear that. But I still wish Monk would just come back.

Shojoshin-in

Rather than be surrounded by half packed boxes and scattered items, I'd like to be taking an afternoon nap at the temple where I stayed on Mount Koya, Shojoshin-in.

Miscellany

The other thing about moving is the miscellany you find in drawers, things that are important for you have no idea what. Something that looks like it screws into something else, keys that are needed to open something somewhere, a small plastic brush that looks like it has a very specific use, and a cord you were probably looking for at one time but you can't remember why. Just stick them in a ziplock bag and take them to the new place.

Summer reading

The thing about moving is you have to pick up each object you own and assess whether you still want it in your life. It's good when it comes to getting rid of things, but kind of overwhelming when you get re-excited about the things you haven't seen in a while. These books fell into the category of "OH, I can't put that in a box yet, I really want to read that one right away!"

Boxes

I spent the day alternating between packing boxes and surfing the internet, where I was searching for something, I just didn't know for what.

Blue glass bowl

My grandma died this afternoon, in her sleep, on her 92nd birthday. My cat died last weekend on Mother's Day, while sleeping, curled up next to his own grandma. They both had long, happy, and peaceful lives, and passed in the best possible way. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. What I'll miss the most is all those cute things that cats and grandmas do. And how they make you feel calm inside.

I remember when I was young my grandma would serve her own canned peaches with vanilla ice cream in blue glass bowls with ruffled edges. I loved the way the ice cream would melt into the peaches and the light would dance on the magical blue bowls. And the clinking sound of spoons on glass as the whole family ate.

Colores de Oaxaca

Not a spare second to draw today so I'm posting a sketchbook page of the colors I found on the rooftop garden of the Hotel Azucenas in amazing Oaxaca, Mexico. I went to Oaxaca last year at this time, just a week after taking Carol Marine's daily painting class. I rather timidly brought a sketchbook along in my determination to keep up the practice despite traveling. Why timidly? There's something scary about approaching that which you truly desire. A fear that you're going to screw things up, be exposed as a fraud, or simply be disappointed. I think a lot of people have that fear of delving into the arts, that's why most people don't do it. And artists are not exempt. I guess as an artist I often feel like I approach my subject the same way an awkward teenage boy tries to approach his first crush. At best, hoping it's a wild success, at the least, praying you don't humiliate yourself.

I learned so much from capturing the colors on the rooftop garden. I discovered that colors have a lot more gray in them than you'd think. The best way to capture that is to use layers, especially the compliment of the dominant color you're trying to capture.

Stewardess

This post is in honor of my favorite flight attendant turned occupational therapist, who graduated today. Congratulations Annika!

Cherry tomatoes

I did this drawing on a piece of green construction paper, which, as it turns out, is not a drawing surface I would recommend. I'm at the point where I really need to invest in some art supplies, but I still don't know which medium calls to me. After all this daily art work I can see that I do have a style, a "me-ness" that shines through whatever medium I choose. I've noticed though, that many artists have a certain palette, or always use a particular type of brush, like a filbert or a flat. I would love entire days to mess around with materials, to see if something in particular really calls ro me, instead of turning to just the things I know.

Fake lashes

Macaron

A pistachio macaron from Clafoutti's in Santa Fe, the only place where you can find authentic french macarons in this state. Yes, they do look like little hamburgers, but they are sweet and delightful.

Houses

I'm away from my art supplies and scanner, so I'm posting another oldie that's stored on my computer. This one caught my eye. My friend Sarah and I used to love to draw the houses we planned to have when we were grown ups. Even though I wanted a classic Vermont house, I always added a pool.

This subject caught my eye because I'm moving at the end of the month. I've had a strange relationship with housing. My first apartment was robbed four times, the first place where I lived alone burned down and almost took me with it, and my first house is being lost due to the downturn in the economy. It looks like the people in this drawing are doing yoga, which is strange because I'm sure I didn't know about yoga that long ago. It reminds me that you never know how seemingly disconnected events are working in your life. It reminds me that home is where you are. I think my strange relationship with housing has served to teach me that.

Sun mother

This is one of my earliest works, a collaboration between my mother and I. I told the story and she wrote it. I love what it says in the top left corner, "The sun but it looks like a mother", and there she is on the bottom right. Happy Mother's Day!

Rest

I still feel so lazy. Aside from going to work I don't want to do anything at all. Once or twice a year I wish I had a TV, I could use a Real Housewives marathon right now.

Pillow

I feel so lazy today. I can't get myself to do anything at all.

A+

I found out that because I got an A+ on all my neuroanatomy exams I don't have to take the final next week! So today was my last day of school for the semester. I'm taking the day off from all obligations and am posting a thirty year old drawing of my mom tucking me in after a job well done. You know you've hit a different stage of life when, instead of going out to get drunk on the last day of class, you're looking forward to getting some sleep and finally cleaning the house.

Pain

I was wondering what I could draw today, in a very limited amount of time, while I was trying to get a roll out of the toaster oven. I ended up burning my finger because I wasn't paying attention. So I thought I'd use the opportunity for a teaching moment about pain. We have two types of nerves that carry pain from the site of the lesion to our brain. The first is called A delta. It is large and heavily myelinated (myelin is a fatty coating around the nerve that allows signals to travel very fast). The second type is C fiber which is smaller and unmyelinated.

This is why when you have a cut or burn you feel a sudden pain right where it happened (A delta fiber), then over the next few days you feel sore or achy in the general area (C fiber). It is also why, when you hurt yourself, you're able to have the thought "Oh great, now this is really going to hurt" before it really does. Because the C fiber pain hasn't arrived in your brain yet.

Juquila

This is the terracotta statue of the Virgin of Juquila that I bought in Mexico last summer. I wanted to see what would happen if I used even less detail than in yesterday's drawing. Juquila's heart is aching over what's happening to her beloved Mexico right now.

Green Tara

This is my own original and not a copy of a master painting. I painted it with the style of Modigliani's caryatids in mind. The actual Tara statue I worked from is very ornate. I wanted to see how much I could leave out and and still make it look like her. I like the way her leg came out on the right side (her left).

The mudra (sacred hand gesture) that she's doing symbolizes the union of God and the individual soul. That's what the word "yoga" means, union.

Matisse

This painting is titled The Italian Woman. Matisse loved to mix both flat and volumetric surfaces. The original painting was done with oils. It was an interesting challenge to capture it with gouache and charcoal pencil, the materials I had on hand.

Caryatid #3

This is the last of the caryatid paintings from the book Modigliani & The Artists of Montparnasse. Why do I love the caryatids so much? It's the color, the shape, and a woman holding up the world with beauty and grace.

Caryatid #2

Copying master paintings has been an excellent exercise. It's funny that I hadn't thought of it before. When you're learning to play the piano or guitar you certainly start by copying other people's songs. The great thing about drawing from a master painting is that you're already starting with something you love, the artistic choices have been made for you, and you notice things about construction that you might not have if you weren't trying to create it yourself.