Caryatid

I adore Modigliani's caryatid paintings. I long to spend entire afternoons sketching caryatids, roman busts, and white marble sculptures frolicking in fountains. I love New Mexico for many reasons but a plethora of sculptures to sketch from is not one of them.

Madame Cézanne in a Yellow Armchair, a study

I love Cézanne's portraits. I don't know why they're not as famous as his still lives and landscapes. I continue to marvel at how much information artists leave out when they paint. How did they choose what to leave out and what to put in? How do so few marks make a face? And I know there are rules about contrasting colors, angles, perspective, and composition but I've never been able to see that type of thing well enough to analyze it. Do they plan that or is it something that happens subconsciously?

Last night as I was falling asleep this part of a Rumi poem flashed in my mind, "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there". It dawned on me that the field is the objective witness.

Cezanne/Pissarro

The first drawing is a sketch Cezanne made of his friend Pissarro, the second is one Pissaro made of his friend Cezanne. I was thinking about the objective witness concept I mentioned the other day, and wondered if I could explain it a little better.

It's as if the drawing itself represents the objective witness. It is simply a drawing, that is all. The viewer's perception makes it "good" or "bad" or anywhere in between. That perception can change depending on mood or the passing of time. But the drawing hasn't changed, it is simply a drawing, that is all. A Van Gogh painting, at the time it was painted, was considered worthless. Now, that same painting is worth millions. The painting didn't change, the cultural perception did.

When you are the objective witness you can see that your reactions to things are perceptions and not "you". It's hard to see that when you're in the midst of it, that's why I was glad when I caught myself the other day in the swing of despair due to my perception of a "bad" drawing. A bad drawing itself is not the problem, it's when it attaches to other fears and you find yourself caught in an avalanche of negativity, forgetting that what you're experiencing is a perception and not necessarily "true".

Bony labyrinth

I'm studying for tomorrow's neuroanatomy exam so I thought I'd draw the bony labyrinth to help me stay on point. I love the bony labyrinth! The three semicircular canals on the left are in charge of balance, the spiral on the right is in charge of hearing. I drew this from a video I found on YouTube, called "How the Ear Works" that someone made for their anatomy class. I later discovered the original science film from 1940 that the images were taken from, it is so cool! If you don't have time to watch the whole thing start at 2:58 to see where the bony labyrinth is located. I had no idea it was so deep inside the head.

Objective witness

Aagh, I think this drawing is horrible but I didn't have time for a redo so I have to post it. It's a detail from Edgar Degas' painting titled Absinthe. After finishing this drawing I took a walk that started out in storminess and despair. After awhile I realized how this drawing allowed me to practice the "Objective Witness" stance that comes from the practice of meditation. As an objective witness you can observe your reactions rather than becoming them.

A good piece of art work has me thinking "I'm great! I'm going to show the world!" A bad piece and I hear "I suck, I am a fool for even trying." Each thought, if allowed to run unchecked, attaches to thoughts that are similar, snowballing into a larger belief about one's ability to survive in the world. The objective witness stance can help you hold steady despite the positive/negative bipolar swing.

When I returned from my walk I noticed how in my efforts to gain control of the drawing I kept swinging back and forth between too dark and too light. A sign of attaining the objective witness stance is when you start to see things symbolically, and not simply in black and white.

After The Hand of Louis de Boullogne

When I was in college I dated a guy who was a horror writer. In those years I saw more horror movies than I really had the taste for, but there was one that I'm often reminded of when it comes to drawing. I think it was called "Evil Dead". In it a man's hand turns against him, grabbing knives and attempting to kill everything in sight as he races to try to control it. Drawing can be like that. You see what mark you want to make and then your hand does something completely out of control. You gasp in horror but when you try to fix it your hand screws it up again! I'm sure that's not what Louis de Boullogne had in mind for his original sketch of this hand. But you never know.

Manet Study study

Drawing master paintings is a humbling experience. This is a copy of a preliminary study by Manet for his painting "Luncheon on the Grass". I chose it because I preferred its loose style over the finished painting. I love how a great artist can make a blotch of paint become an eye. After trying to copy that I realized that the blotch must be exactly the right value, in exactly the right spot, for it to work.

I was thinking about my dream art school. In the mornings from 8-12 there would be formal drawing and painting lessons, paying attention to detail. The afternoons would be about feeling, forgetting the detail, collages and Japanese calligraphy. Over time the two would naturally merge and enhance each other. And you would get paid to go to dream art school. Paid for your efforts in trying to bring more beauty into the world. What a dream.

Art school

I was looking forward to making another collage this evening but forgot that I ran out of glue stick last night and didn't remember to buy more today. In that way I'm thankful that this blog is not "Daily Collages" or "Daily Paintings". I started "Daily Art Works" to prove to myself that you can be creative despite all the obstacles (and there are many). It's certainly become a dance with what is.

This is a study of a Matisse painting. I've often read that many of my favorite artists spent a lot of time copying master drawings. This is something that never occurred to me but I really think is so important. One of the many illusions I've held is that an artist's abilities just fell from the sky. Back in the day of Michaelangelo painters were considered manual laborers, like tile makers. They started by copying the masters and painting from morning to night.

I titled this piece "Art School" because I love to day dream about going to art school. Spending entire days playing with color, shape, light, line, texture. But dream art school, not one where you also worry about how you're going to get a job after you graduate, or paying back student loans.

Light

After the headache, there is light.

Rising

Another version of the piece made by my headache. Too much energy rising into the brain, a weary spinal cord and nerves trying to hold it all up.

Headache song

I've been getting a lot of headaches lately. Today I told my headache, "Listen pal, I have a lot of commitments and time constraints, if you're going to act up now you're going to have to chip in. You take care of the daily art work today, I can't do all this when you're around." And this is what it sang.

Sunday afternoon

"There is no abstract art. You must always start with something. Afterward you can remove all traces of reality" -Pablo Picasso

I started by thinking about the exercise class I teach at the hospital. How everyone is whisked into the cafeteria in their wheel chairs and we all start waving our arms. What might it feel like to find yourself there after having had a stroke? Being sure not to raise your arms too high because you just had a coronary artery bypass. Trying to remember not to get up out of your chair because you no longer have legs. The woman with the traumatic brain injury who starts talking at random in the middle of the class because she's lost the part of herself that notices social cues. And myself trying to choreograph it all, riding the wave between "How did I get myself into this?" and "What a blast!" Despite all the chaotic pieces some sort of harmony ensues.

When I make work like this I find myself asking, "Am I going crazy or am I making abstract art?" And, "What is the difference between a Franz Kline and a piece of crap?" I mean that with all sincerity as I love Franz Kline's work, but I couldn't tell you why. What makes some smeared paint find its way into a museum while another can be made by any old body on a Sunday afternoon?

If you receive this as an email, link back to my blog to see the pieces better. I don't like the way the pictures get all stuck together in the emails, they need space in between.

Mustache

I woke up this morning to find a mustache in the sky.

Kite

Red, white, and blue

My mind has been way too scattered lately for the concentration needed for drawing. Today I cut out shapes and glued them down as fast as I could. I did this one in honor of my friend Yayoi who is being sworn in as a US citizen tomorrow. There's a little glimpse of maps from the US and Japan, spring blossoms and chiles, red socks and blue boots as we walk together. Hooray Yayoi! It's an honor for our country to have you.

Color play

I made it through the presentation of my research project that's been the bee in my bonnet for the last 1.5 years. It went very well despite having to wait almost four hours for my time slot. Done. Time to play with color!

Trees

We use so much paper in grad school that I thought I'd give back by creating some trees out of the data from my research project.

Picnic

I'm so run down right now. I'm nursing a sore throat and have crawled out of bed to complete my daily drawing. My inner self is enjoying a picnic until after the presentation on Wednesday, when it's safe to return.

Easter candy

I asked Louie to stop by Todos Santos yesterday to buy me some Easter candy, but when he got there only a few sugared eggs remained. Hayward said he'd sold out of everything and it was the best Easter season he'd ever had.

I have an acquaintance who sells high end Japanese incense. He said business is better than ever because people are doing more rituals these days. When I bought the Green Tara in Boulder I was chatting with the owner of The Old Tibet Shop about business and he said it was booming. "In times like these everyone turns to God!" he exclaimed. Funny how these stories never make the news. Only the job losses and related doom. I would love to do a documentary that follows the flow of money. I heard that seed companies are also doing very well too, as more people are planning to grow their own food this year.

Running away

Rising above the data

I'm mind-bogglingly exhausted right now after cramming to get a research project done in time for a presentation next week. Cramming is not my nature but due to finding myself in this position, for reasons I will politely not divulge in the sacred space of my blog, today's drawing depicts me flying away on a magic carpet over the results of our statistical analysis.

Green Tara sketch

In Boulder I discovered the Shambala Center. I loved meditating in the shrine while listening to the heavy clumps of snow slide off the roof as the the sun overtook the blizzard. I bought this statue of Green Tara, she's the goddess of universal compassion, the Buddha manifested in female form. I long to find a span of time to work on a more detailed full figure drawing of her.

Speaking of time limitations and artistic struggles, I wanted to share this excellent piece on creativity by Elizabeth Gilbert. She wrote Eat, Pray, Love. It runs about 18 minutes so go make yourself a cup of tea and watch. She offers such great insight into the creative process and tells how the way modern society views art ultimately destroys the creative spirit. I love when she talks about Tom Waits who finally turned around to tell his Muse to wait until he stopped driving before sending him beautiful music to write. And that's what I have to tell my Muse now. "Can't you see I'm in graduate school?! Please don't give up on me.......please wait."

Boulder

My journey to Japan conveniently lasted right up through my neuroanatomy exam yesterday. I haven't drawn since the day before I left and I've been so busy I can't imagine how I was drawing every day. I'm giving myself one transition day, today, and tomorrow I have to figure out how to fit drawing back in.

My other self, the heavier more expensive one, actually went to Colorado to do a training to learn how to teach yoga in chairs to people who have physical limitations. It was a great training that took place in the rocky mountains. The best part was that when I was driving back home I got caught in a blizzard. It was terrifying to drive down the mountains in the heavy snow and I got as far as Boulder where I found a hotel room at 10 am. That's where the best part happened. With no lap top, no homework, and unable to follow my schedule for two days, I was forced to just simply be.

The above shows a glimpse of my trip as shown through beverages. A beignet and the spicy black house tea at Lucile's, a popular Creole restaurant. A cup of oolong tea from The Dushanbe Tea House while sitting on the side of Boulder creek (in short sleeves, a week before the blizzard). Hot chocolate from my favorite restaurant, The Kitchen. A post blizzard photo, 16 inches! And finally, a quote I loved in the window of a contemporary furniture shop. There's a lot of great detail in that photo. I noticed that on the left hand side you can see me taking the picture, and my arm overlays a photo of the hand of one of the designers on the wall inside. I love when things like that happen.

The End

This project was created using my postcard collection, things around the house, and by traveling to those places around Albuquerque where I see glimpses of Japan, whether they're really there or not. It was created in one 14 hour day, including trying to sketch fish at the aquarium surrounded by screaming school children. Sushi from Whole Foods, the beautiful Japanese garden found at the Albuquerque Botanical Gardens, and Noda's in Rio Rancho for lunch.

It is dedicated to the many Sakura-san's I've had the great honor to meet in my travels, like Ikeda-san in Japan, Kakada in Cambodia and Anabel in Oaxaca. Unexpected new friends that have shown me their country even while knowing we would probably never see each other again. And it is inspired by all the individuals I've met in the last year who have had strokes, broken hips, multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, and Parkinson's. Those who have learned how to travel through life in ways other than they might have originally planned.

I've been back from my real spring break for almost two weeks now and mired in assignments and exams. It's been such a comfort to think of my other self out there dancing under the cherry blossoms.

Landing

Sayonara, Sakura-san..............sayonara..............mata ne..............zzzzz...............s-s-sspinothalamic tract..........medial corticospinal tract............basal ganglia?

Sayonara

Arigato gozaimashita

A feast

A promise to return

Sandias, dreaming of Fuji