Hokusai Says

a poem by Roger Keyes

Hokusai says look carefully.

He says pay attention, notice.

He says keep looking, stay curious.

Hokusai says says there is no end to seeing

He says look forward to getting old.

He says keep changing,

you just get more who you really are.

He says get stuck, accept it, repeat

yourself as long as it is interesting.

He says keep doing what you love.

He says keep praying.

He says every one of us is a child,

every one of us is ancient

every one of us has a body.

He says every one of us is frightened.

He says every one of us has to find

a way to live with fear.

He says everything is alive --

shells, buildings, people, fish,

mountains, trees, wood is alive.

Water is alive.

Everything has its own life.

Everything lives inside us.

He says live with the world inside you.

He says it doesn't matter if you draw,

or write books. It doesn't matter

if you saw wood, or catch fish.

It doesn't matter if you sit at home

and stare at the ants on your veranda

or the shadows of the trees

and grasses in your garden.

It matters that you care.

It matters that you feel.

It matters that you notice.

It matters that life lives through you.

Contentment is life living through you.

Joy is life living through you.

Satisfaction and strength

is life living through you.

He says don't be afraid.

Don't be afraid.

Love, feel, let life take you by the hand.

Let life live through you.

~ Roger Keyes

head in the (lavender) clouds

A few weeks ago, I said, "I desired my own creative spotlight on my own life's main stage." 

I'm realizing, via the duality (even more than two aspects) of the self, that I am the performer and the audience (and the critic).  I am the voice and the listener (and the editor).  I am the creator and the beloved (and the destructive).  From a jungian point of view, one of these aspects of self may grow to become stronger than the others.  For me, it has been the self that is critic, editor and destructive.  It has been a path of self disregard in my art-making and avoiding the embodiments of voice, ear, hand, heart, dance, and the body that feels the result of these embodiments.

Seven years ago, when I first arrived in Denver, I met a man who, after we had become friends, told me he has intuitive abilities.  Because he was exploring this ability as a second career, he asked if he could practice with me as the subject.  I gladly obliged.  I've always loved hearing about myself and thinking about myself!  He said many great and grave things about me as we sat facing each other with our eyes closed.  He didn't describe my history or my future and he didn't ask questions other than to ask if what he was saying sounded familiar to me.  He described visions that he could see in and around my body.  One of the most poignant that has stayed with me since then was his description of a misty, lavender cloud around my head that was creative energy.  He spoke of my brain holding a sharp and perfect diamond, a representation of my honed and perfected intellect.  He told me that the creative aura was meant to be embodied, but as long as the diamond continued to be my priority, that separation would remain between my body and the creative.

My head, my rationality, my intellect, my ego - the diamond - all of these things are so highly valued in the world, but perhaps these as foundation are flimsier than we understand and keep us from living a wholehearted existence.  I am fearful of letting any other aspect of myself guide me and direct my work because the intuitive, creative essence may be perceived as wild and chaotic.  The reality is, as long as I focus on the diamond, which needs no more perfecting, I forget the heart, the body, the soul, the spirit, the unknowing knower, the Intuitive that is me.  What may be perceived as wild and chaotic is, in fact, the creative self, the one who knows without knowing

Recently, I listened to an inspiring interview between Krista Tippett (interviewer of radio show/podcast On Being) and Artist - self titled, Maker, Ann Hamilton.  Ms Tippett said that it is "humanizing when we rediscover [needlepoint, knitting, hand-crafts, etc.]" in a discussion with Ann Hamilton about her work as a textile artist.  Ms. Hamilton talks about it as "embodied knowledge."  The making, the putting on of the hands and trusting one's intuition to make the thing that exists from somewhere inside you, this is a kind of knowing.  It is not revered in our society's traditions because it is not cerebral.  Unfortunately, we can get stuck in the process of art-making at that moment when we realize we are in the body and not in the head.  Ann Hamilton discusses this as the moment when we "give it away" because it is not understood, we couldn't complete the work, it was impossible to describe or prove.  

[W]hen you’re making something, you don’t know what it is for a really long time.  So, you have to kind of cultivate the space around you, where you can trust the thing that you can’t name. And, if you feel a little bit insecure, or somebody questions you, or you need to know what it is, then what happens is you give that thing that you’re trying to listen to away.   [S]o how do you kind of cultivate a space that allows you to dwell in that — not knowing, really[?]  That [which] is actually really smart.  And can become really articulate.  But, you know, like the thread has to come out, and it comes out at its own pace. 

[my edits]

In this interview (please listen!), I find that Krista Tippett and Ann Hamilton are describing the wild and the chaos that I fear, but they are describing it in much more humble and settled reality.  I have felt anxious about releasing into my creative power because I have worried that the power would hit me like a tidal wave!  In reality, I am already doing the work that is the wild and the chaos and it is as quiet as I need it to be so that I can breathe the wildness and relax into the realm of unknowing.  I am making quilts by which I immerse myself in color and repetition and process.  I am making cross-stitch images that offer me time for intense meditation and thinking.  

Regarding this realization about the wild as quiet and the chaos as freedom, this is what Tippet and Hamilton's discussion has left with me: 

• The work has to come at its own pace. 
• When the articulation hasn't yet come and it's too early to define the work, cultivate the space around it and protect the unknowing.
• Dwell in the not-knowing and resist giving it away before you come to know how to articulate. 
• Believe that your embodied knowledge (the knowledge of the senses and of the soul) has authority.
• The wilderness is medicine, chaos offers freedom, and neither were ever in effect to harm.

  

the artist's assertion

In thinking about this past year, I see it as a year of regaining a stronghold on my personal desires and activating a listening ear to my own intuition.  What of a person's desires?  I'm realizing it's possible to live decades of one's life aspiring to the desires (sometimes demands) of others, of societal norms, of institutions - all the while putting one's own desires aside or behind in priority.  Add to that the lack of attention (at least in American, East coast, protestant tradition) given to identifying and valuing one's own intuition.  Intuition, that inner knowing that percolates, converses and sometimes screams as the counterpart to rational logic takes a back seat and often just gets left on the side of the road in our thinking and feeling.

The most complete critical thinking and authentic living comes from a balance of intuition and the rational mind.

I believe I have had a strong intuition since childhood.  I relate these natural emotive and sensory driven gut feelings to experiencing fulfillment, self-direction, clear thinking, creative work, and relationships.  When I have ignored or put aside my intuition (as a way of fitting in, as a way of staying in a rational mode, because I feel like a weirdo - the only one feeling this way), I have suffered disappointments, felt confused or disoriented, and have spent much time, sometimes decades feeling the consequences of pushing a good friend aside.

This has been a critical topic in sessions with my therapist, and I have regained a sense of confidence and belief in that beautiful and wise, old woman who resides in my soul, Intuition.

I bring this up in this forum because, as an artist, the intuitive voice is a critical component of the creative work that I do.  I could talk extensively about my thoughts on intuition and self realization and the part these play (or not) in contemporary artists' work, but I decline that unintelligible rant because it's sometimes upsetting enough for me to lose all verbal acuity.  It's upsetting mostly because of my own habitual ignorance to intuition within my creative work and the American Higher Ed's lack of attention given to developing one's intuitive guide in creative work.  And that's what I really mean to get at: the intuitive voice as guide in the creative work - from the choice to place blue here, and red there to the choice to make a collection of drawings depicting my dreams (a brave undertaking).  Seems simple stating it like that, but conversely, when the intuitive voice is ignored or weak, creative work may focus mainly on pleasing professors, making art that sells, making art that's safe for conservative audiences, or just making the same art for years because the first time we made it, enough people "just LOVED it."  Am I talking about myself?  yes.  And despite making work that I still think was good work, I neglected to make even more work that was important to me.  I dismissed ideas as too weird, too personal and instead focused on ideas that fit better into the popular program of design and art-making.  Even now, I still put others' desires ahead of mine and often find ways to put my creative work (which my intuition is calling me to do) behind what I think are my responsibilities to others.  I would go so far as to say that the 3 year project called, GroundSwell Gallery became a way of ignoring my own desire to make art in order to fulfill others' aims to exhibit art.  It was good work, and I am glad to have had the experiences and relationships from that chapter of my life, but...  admittedly, I desired my own creative spotlight on my own life's main stage.

Who wouldn't put this adorable animal first? 

Questions about self direction, career, calling, purpose all came up along the way in this year of separation from all things past (we closed the gallery, left another long-held job, built and then moved into a new house, got a dog, etc.).  Despite my intuition's percolating doubt, I tried on the Real Estate professional's shoes, I considered exhibiting in local galleries, I poured myself into training my dear dog, and found numerous other ways to fill my time... whilst my desire to make art was placed to the side and the creative work was left undone.  It seems that even quitting jobs and wiping the slate clean can still lead to two choices:  1. reforming the same behaviors of self diminishment and avoiding creative work or 2. forming new behaviors that respond to the intuitive voice that's been speaking all along - i.e. listen to the beckoning intuition that says, "Make your art now.  this is your chance to do it for yourself.  You have that freedom."



Perhaps I begin a meditation practice whereby I repeat such assertive words to myself:

I am making my art now.
I possess the opportunity to do this for myself.
I am free.

(repeat)

over a year

Canopy inspiration

Over a year since posting to this blog and I'm thinking it would be overwhelming to update everything that has happened since the last post.  Really, what I think is more important is the impetus to simply begin again now.


My most consistent work for the past 10 months has been the design, fabric dye, cutting and sewing of Canopy, the next quilt.  Images to follow.  Coincidentally, the last post on this blog before now, was "quilt, quilt, quilt, quilt, quilt, quilt, quilt" where I was talking about, now titled, Bridge, the quilt inspired by Anni Albers' work and by the work of psychotherapy and dreams that I had begun to focus on at the time. This too is a work related to psychotherapy, dreamwork and active imagination - inner contemplation or diaglogue with the symbols of my life.  The canopy of trees that I reference is the forest canopy in my childhood patch of forest next to our house where I would play with my sister for hours during warm seasons.  Lying on the forest floor, smelling the humus of the leaf decomposing soil, and seeing the sunlight filter through the leaves - this is a wholehearted memory self as Self.  That memory was reinforced by love, love of another childhood place that seemed to love me and later a place for falling in love with my now husband, Christian.   Christian and I would lay on the forest floor and talk for as much time as we could steal away while working at the outdoor summer camp, Camp Hanover, in Virginia.  That place, the forest there, memories before and after knowing Christian were rich with life and self as Self for me.   When imagining a place that holds great potential for healing and self knowing, I think of the forest floor, protected and created by the beautiful forest canopy.  Perhaps this quilt already begs a sister - the imagery of the rich and aromatic forest floor.

Canopy sketch for quilt, Jan. - Feb. 2015

The work of Canopy, designing and creating has proven to be what I expected in a way - "I want this to be a part of an ongoing practice.  I don't want to get hung up on the idea of this work being an 'opus,' as the pressure to do so often keeps me from trying new things and keeps me from relaxing into the process of creative work."  This has, thankfully, been the case for this project.  I feel less attached to my vision/plan as the unexpected differences come up, and I am willing to take it as it comes - I think more so than usual.  The unexpected:  how the dyes act with the fiber and what colors emerge despite what colors were planned.  I wasn't expecting the swirling, flowy look of tie-dye, but...  there it is.  I expected a minty green; I got an aqua blue.  Thus, I stand on the fence of "fix it" and "accept it."

My fingers, my sewing machine, my quilt

"Fix it" or "accept it." That's probably a good metaphor for my life and my work as of the last year too.  Through 2013, I'd say it was my normal mode to "always fix it."  The urge to make everything better (better, in my opinion) was practically irresistible to me and I might push myself beyond my energies and boundaries to make it so.  Everything - my projects, our projects, even your projects!  I realize this sounds very self critical, but even if I didn't actually do the fixing, there was this inner voice that said, "but I want it to be better.  I want it to be mine."  So in learning acceptance, as in "accept it," I am hearing that voice saying "fix it," and I am responding, "is it necessary?"  It's been a shift in thinking and living that gives me great relief.  I believe my artwork will benefit most from my willingness to see the long game of the artist's practice as critical to my creative development.  Perhaps that opus that the younger me desired so fervently is simply further down the road, and releasing myself from the pressure to produce it enables the creative work to get rich with time and decomposition and cycles and repetition and ....you know - all that stuff that keeps a person alive.

quilt quilt quilt quilt quilt quilt quilt

If I say the word over and over it starts to sound unfamiliar and I have that bizarre feeling of not knowing the word nor its meaning.  I'm doing this as a way to disassociate with the traditionalist understanding of the quilt and stay grounded in my "I'll do it myself" mentality.  Once again, I've used an antiquated (though certainly rising in popularity again), homemaker's media to express concepts of dream symbolism, theories of color and design and to recognize and experience the meditative work of repetition.  I made a post about my quilt before as I've been working on it since last December, and now it's basically finished.  Yesterday, I sent it off to the quilter, Amy Wade who will use her computerized long-arm sewing machine to connect my top layer of piecework to bamboo viscose batting and raw silk backing.  Pre quilting:

The colors are all dyed 1 - 5 times to reach desired saturation and shade.  The dark blue is made using indigo - a totally new dyeing process for me.  The overall dimension is 80" x 88" and each square (of 2 triangles) is 4" x 4".  The Anni Albers textile design and color theory inspiration comes from her artwork, Triadic Series D.  For me, the principle definer of my design was not the triangles so much as it was the orientation of diagonals for each 20" x 20" area (each 20" square area rotates to create a diamond pattern within the grid).  

Anni's screenprint: 

Anni Albers. “Triadic Series D.” 1969. Lithograph

Anni Albers' work was more about pattern design and textile fabric design - her work was so crucial for modern textiles and she paved the way with her design theories and inventive ideas for fabrication.  For me, she paved the way for my planning in making this quilt.  I knew I needed a pattern and though I wanted symbolism incorporated, the pattern was most important for a textile I planned to see regularly in my bedroom.  Anni's patterns and design theories lend themselves to the gaze - harmonious repetition with just enough variety to keep us meditatively looking.

The dream symbolization for this blanket is just that: a blanket over our dreams.  Of all the things we can lay over ourselves each night, I wanted to create something to inspire and evoke dreams.  Mentioned before, I have been  seeing a psychotherapist and she is particularly adept at recognizing my visual nature through discussing my dreams and other visions.  I find myself now more dedicated to the stories of my dreams and I place more intention into the work of remembering them.  Beyond dream symbolism, this quilt certainly marks the place where my husband and I share the most intimate space in our home.  The rectangle of yellow and blue-gray is placed over our hearts as an offering of and recognition for light. 

Yes, this is my latest art work, though it doesn't yet have a title.  Yes, it is also the most functional artwork I have ever made, and we will be using it, inhabiting it as that might be it's real completion.

total number of pieces: 880.  I wonder if there's any auspicious meaning to that number....

someone who documents

Have I taken pictures of the triplex that my husband, Christian is building - that I have been working on too?  Have I taken pictures (outside of my smartphone camera) of the quilt that I've been working on for 6 months?  Have I taken any photos of closing day at the gallery that I ran for the last 3 years and closed this past Tuesday?

No.

I've been adverse to stopping all this doing in order to take a photograph or two and now I have a blog with no posts for almost two months!  I've considered making a post every few weeks or so and then I have instead done something like: work on a landscaping plan for the triplex, make plans for our little Siga - the standard poodle puppy that is coming home with us once we move into that triplex, get a tattoo, meet with friends that I haven't met with in a while, etc. etc.  There are times in one's life when the need to document just isn't there.  There are times when the documentation comes naturally...  I'm looking forward to that time coming up again.

For now, will a few smartphone photos suffice?  For now, a few brief statements about what has been going on?

Update number 1: Christian and I have a little standard poodle puppy waiting to come home with us as soon as we are ready.  His name is Siga (pronounced, See-gah).  We've wanted a dog for most of the time that we have been together (a long-ish time) and now he is finally in our lives.  We met with his breeder Betsey Beineke in Parker about a month ago and we were suckers for this little guy as soon as we held him in our laps. 

Update number 2: The triplex is under major-construction-all-the-time-so-much-going-on so that we can move in by the end of May.  The last photo that I took of the exterior is so outdated, I feel weird about posting it here, so I'm not going to.  I will try to make a more comprehensive photo collage of how it all looks.  For now, know that our hardwood floors are going in, the drywall and painting is completed, the kitchen cabinets are going in, the bathroom tile is done and waiting to be grouted, the garage doors are on, etc. etc.  I worked on the landscaping plan for several weeks culminating in one big push in April to get it ready for a contractor to review the plan and give us a bid (now in progress).

Update number 3: I've been working on a quilt for 6 months - starting with design in December of 2013, dying fabric in early 2014 (many attempts at a blue and red that would really work - I believe I succeeded), cutting fabric in February and March, then sewing for all of April through... yesterday!  This quilt is really spot on for me.  I had to make one major design change once I saw the finished work on the bed, but I am very very pleased with the completed work.  For me, this is a soulful project, a blanket for our dreaming and sleeping that speaks to the light in our hearts.  It is definitely related to the drawings that I have been making that focus on the primary colors and platonic shapes in relation to me in my visions and dreams. 

Update number 4: Danette and I, after almost a year of knowing the day was planned, knowing our time to move on to other projects and new directions is now, and knowing that GroundSwell Gallery has truly benefited many artists and the art community...  after all of this, we finally reached closing day on May 7th.  Our last show with Karen Fisher was a good exhibition with 3 sold artworks of which 10% of the profit went to the Denver chapter of the Alzheimers Association.  We feel great about the show and we feel wonderful about the last 3 years of success we have found with GroundSwell Gallery.  Susan Froyd of the Westword included both Danette and myself in her "Another 100 Colorado Creatives" which shares with Denver it's own contributing creative hard-hitters!  Link to that interview here.

Update number 5: I started making bread all the time...  There is hope for high altitude amateur bakers like myself because of "Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day."  

Update number 6: tattoo.  More on that later. "When I look at it, I think of Modern Art... on you." - my acupuncturist, Diana said this, and that makes me feel good about my instincts for putting permanent ink on my skin! 

Direct Connect Denver

Direct Connect Denver's "What If..." as seen at one of 3 venues, GroundSwell Gallery.

Late summer of 2013, Don Fodness and Sabin Aell approached me and my partner (at GroundSwell Gallery), Danette Montoya about putting together a project for artists in Denver.  The basic goal was to create a project for as many artists as we could manage to collaborate with other artists internationaly.  Almost right away, we four felt the awesome energy of people who work well together.  Not only did we begin to organize and define this project, "What if..." but we also began to organize and define ourselves as Direct Connect Denver (DCD).
The purpose of our new group began to unfold as this:  to create opportunities for ourselves and other artists in Denver and to connect directly with artists, galleries, and general culture in other cities and/or countries through our art work.  The realization we've all made was that most of the events defining success in our careers have been connections, relationships, and experiences with other people in our field.  Read about DCD and "What if..." in Westword and at Colorado Public Radio's website where Danette was interviewed about the project. 

Direct Connect Denver is now our four person team devoted to creating one project per year for  artists to engage with other artists/galleries/communities nationally and internationally.  Our first project, "What If..." just opened on March 14th in Denver, CO, USA and March 15 in Berlin, Germany with over 100 participating artists.

The framework of the project was this:  Sabin Aell catalyzed the relationship with Neurotitan Gallery in Berlin to do a collaborative art swap with artists in Denver.  Each team, DCD in Denver and Neurotitan in Berlin, enlisted 53 artists/art-groups to participate in the project.  Each artist/art-group was asked to pose a "what if...?" question and then was paired randomly with another artist/art-group in the opposite city.  The "what if..." questions were swapped and having receive the question, each artist/art-group had to begin an art work in response to that question.

 I was one of those artists and the question that I posed was, "What if I finally took off my East-Coast-Conservative-Protestant baggage and got naked?"  My partner was Xueh Magrini and her question to me was, "What if all is just an illusion?"  Xu's artwork, as seen on her website, was delightful to see because, being randomly paired, her work fit right into my hope for this project: to let loose! 

If you know my work, you know that I'm not prone to work loosely with pastels and I tend to draw very formally, so you can see what of this collaborative work was made by Xu (though elaborated upon by me) and you can see where my style works in.  I felt that this artwork was an invitation to keep working on artwork for myself (as I have been learning to do in the last year), but to also make it more vulnerable by showing it outside of my studio (or this blog).

All 53 artists in Denver and all 53 artists/art-groups in Berlin got to work responding to their questions knowing that their work would be finished by the asker.  After a month of working, all of the artwork (in Denver) was due to GroundSwell Gallery so that we could ship the artworks to Berlin for the artists there to finish and then exhibit at Neurotitan.  Likewise, Neurotitan had to collect all of their artists works and send them to Denver.  (Organizational note:  Always send all the artwork in one package, one time if you can.  Sending multiple packages on different schedules does not seem to make a schedule run smoothly.  Repeat: Ship everything at once.)  In late January, early February, artists received the artworks that their collaborator started in response to the question they had asked.  Everyone had to work on responding to his/her own question AND responding to another artist's interpretation of that question.  Finally, all of the artworks in Denver were exhibited at Hinterland (Sabin's gallery on Walnut St.), Showpen (Don's gallery/artists' residence on 9th & Santa Fe) and at GroundSwell Gallery.

Left: Sara Guindon & Sophia Martineck, Center: Andrew Huffman & Vela, Right: Travis Hetman & Johann Büsen.  These 3 artworks each became an enmeshed synthesis of the collaborators' styles.  Sara and Sophia's styles seem one in the same, Andrew Huffman transformed Vela's (barely discernible now) gnome into his more rare stream-of-consciousness work and Travis had to break from his negative-space and work within Johann's frenetic overload of imagery.  In my opinion, these are awesome collaborative efforts.  (click on this image to see it larger...  find the gnome?)

In my experience I found it interesting that I had had an idea in my mind of how I would respond to my own question, but when I received my artwork from Xu, I had to re-think, re-imagine my visual "answer" to my own question.  As an organizer of this project, having looked at everyone's original questions, it became evident that some asked "what if..." with a plan for themselves and others asked as though "anything can happen!"  I can't say for sure, but I imagine the latter askers may have felt more free as they attempted to work on another artist's work and deal with the existential problem of answering our own questions.  Of course there is also the issue of working right on another artist's work.  I applaud the artists who boldly negotiated this problem for themselves and created excellent works while dismantling (ahem... destroying...) their partner's input.  I think it was important for artists to see this as a project where it was appropriate and expected that we just do-what-we-have-to-do to make an artwork. 

Left: Tyler Beard & Andres Villareal, Right: Jeffrey King & Nat Hamon.  Both Tyler and Jeffrey dismantled or destroyed their partner's work as a means to making work that is their own.  I point out that their partner's work is collaborative in that it is used as the medium for the artwork seen here.

Finally, I'll just say that this project has been a joy to co-create because of the co-creators.  The best parts about working with Danette at GroundSwell Gallery for the past 3 years have been our ability to lay everything out honestly, our naturally mutual objectives and our equal willingness to work hard with attention to the balance between our workloads.  Working with Don and Sabin on this project has resulted in a similar working style and the four us seem as surprised as we are delighted and motivated to continue working together.  Group projects are not often this easy and fair.

Direct Connect Denver plans to document this project carefully and create a pdf book as well as a print-to-order book of the artworks.  DCD also plans to do another project in 2015.