Practice

It was about here, at the end of my time, that it felt like things started to "happen." I became more efficient at getting the essential lines down quickly and with conviction. I see it best in the second drawing down, in the middle of the bottom row. I love the heavyset lady, the person to the left of her taking a photo, and the woman with the long black hair.

You can really see how a few simple lines can capture the essence of a person. I shouldn't be surprised, but always am, at just where practice can take you.

Patience and Patients

I adore the guy in the top right corner of the first page, the one with the belly. The teenager texting in the middle of the third page down is another favorite.

When I saw Sherrie McGraw recently, I told her about my struggles with my schedule, how hard it is to wait until my life opens up a bit more to let art making in. She told me to study my patients. "Painting is mostly about seeing", she said, and I have the best models of all right now, ones who would never sit for a drawing class.

It was funny because I thought she told me to study my patience. I know both are true...

Gravity

Today my 86 year old patient looked up at me from this wheelchair and said, "Gravity got the better of me."

I once went to a workshop on yoga and gravity, taught by Tias Little. Tias pointed out that in the martial arts you have a sparring partner, while in yoga that sparring partner is gravity. How do we rise up against gravity efficiently, without expending too much energy, without contracting unnecessary muscles? And when do we surrender to gravity, truly surrender, without the mind contracting unnecessary muscles?

Moving and Texting

It felt overwhelming and impossible at first, I would put a line down and the person would be gone.This was a great exercise though. People move so fast at Grand Central, I was pretty much working with one second gesture drawings.

It was fascinating to see how many people are texting, taking photos, or talking on their cell phone, and how much it affects their posture. The third drawing down shows it best, the lady on the far left of the top row, and the people in the middle and far right of the bottom row. Note how much texting posture looks like senile posture.

Grand Central

When I worked in the theater industry, all those years ago, I learned my lesson the hard way that when the show you've been working on for 15 hours a day opens, you are out of work.

We all went separate ways when we lost work. I stayed in touch with one friend from the costume shop, Michael, who found work as a gardener for a fashion designer. Michael was one of those people who comes into your life and out of your life suddenly, but watches over you in that time between. I was young, awkward, covered in acne, and had lost my job and my boyfriend all at once. He was fabulous, older, gay, and seemed to know everyone who was anyone, but he also noticed me.

In that breakup stage where crying is all over your face, he took me out for drinks on the balcony at Grand Central. He chose Grand Central because he wanted me to see how many people come and go, and to comment on what they were wearing as they did so. By the end of the night I could feel expansion within my depression, and I've never forgotten him for that.

I wanted to return to that memory and that place, and in gratitude to an old friend, draw the people that passed by.

Hovsep Pushman

More images from the Rubin. The monks photographed from a video look like they're still moving to me, and bring to mind a beautiful movie called "Unmistaken Child." The painting just above is a modern interpretation of an ancient form by a contemporary painter from Tibet.

When I went to Taos for the open studio and demos with Sherrie McGraw and David Leffel, Sherrie gave a presentation on abstract realism and I was stunned by the work of Hovsep Pushman. His images of Asian still lives are so much like the ones in my mind that I see but don't know how to paint. Sherrie pointed out that Pushman used very little color to give the illusion of a lot of color.

It's incredible when you discover something that deeply resonates, something that has existed for some time apart from you, but has been within you all along.

Rubin Museum of Art

The Rubin Museum is a beautiful museum that I never would have known about if I hadn't discovered New York's 50 Best Places to find Peace and Quiet by Allan Ishaac. It meant a lot to me to use this book as a guide on this trip, because I discovered it flying away from NYC last year, not knowing when I would be back.

I went to as many places as I could in this guide, and they were all truly magical. Having a theme can greatly enhance travel, taking you not only to your destination, but to so many unexpected places along the way.

The second and fourth photo show the wax casting process of creating a murti. I love the third photo down, its a shot of a video that was playing in the museum, as it shifted between two images.