Wild World A Monoprint Process Click Here
I awaken with just a feeling, a pull of sorts toward creating. A whisper in my ear.
I have a sense of something ephemeral lingering just beyond my sight. Rumblings on the edge of my awareness. Like a remembrance or a poem coming on. I am turning to face the feeling. How do you catch a feeling?, or a dream that is slipping away? This feeling is trying to break through the distractions of my life. It is leaning toward the studio and wants me to follow. Making time for my art is a challenge. I wonder what I should make for dinner. My husband asks me a question. My dog wants to go for a walk, maybe I need one more cup of coffee. Drinking another cup of coffee is just one of the ways I put off the shoulds that start piling up in my mind. My three year old granddaughter, who lives next door, unexpectedly visits with her ten stuffies and wants to line them up and tell me their names. (Pinky, Peter Rabbit, Bunny Bun, Baby, Fox, Bear with fish, Pink Bunny)… Then we have a dance party. So much to do. I ask you, “What is more important than spending this time with my Granddaughter”? Nothing. Not work, Not writing. Not even art making.
When she heads home, my dog is still wanting a walk and I know if I go on a walk now, which I need to do to stay in shape, I will lose that feeling and my momentum for the studio which has already been waylaid by the dance party and coffee and general slacking off. As I enter the studio, which is attached to my home, I am thinking that it would be good to get outside for a walk. I really should clean the studio, or make books, or work on figurines, or work on the computer to finish the projects there, that are endless and need my attention. I do need to reply to some emails, or perhaps maybe another cup of coffee?…Avocado toast?… As I am pondering all these things, I step sideways around my thoughts and light my herb bundle and I reach for my bell of remembrance and I ring it. I am gathering my thoughts, unexpectedly aligning myself towards printmaking.
Monoprinting is my visual dialogue with the Dream; with my muse, with the unknown, with source, with what is in my heart to say and find. It is my life’s work. It is my Super Power. It is also a full- bodied meditative art excursion into the scary and wonder-filled unknown. It is a deep dive, all day and sometimes several days, decision fest of not knowing and trying very hard to follow an emerging visual story. My process is invigorating and honestly, it is exhausting.
Here I am, lighting the herb bundle and ringing the bell. I have made a decision before I even know that I have made a decision. I take action before I have a chance to walk out the door. As I am taking a deep breath into this decision, I see in my mind’s eye the animals who populate my work. They are at rest, and bored out of their minds, with waiting for me to show up and do this work. These beings and animal spirits are a part of my soul’s landscape. Right now, they are far off in the distance. Way over there.
I think I caught them all off guard. It’s like someone has yelled “Squirrel!” They look at me as if they have just realized “holy moly!, she’s gonna work”! and they start running toward me. I know this sounds crazy but when I close my eyes, this is what I see. I think, oh my god, they really have something they want to say to me. I feel bad about making them wait so long. It has been a while since I have created a monoprint. They are desperate. I wonder who will get here first. Who will appear on the plate today. They do want to talk to me. And I want to find out what they have to say. I’ve got to get started! Quick! Hold on to that feeling! Make a mark on the plate! Catch that tail before it disappears.
Coyote comes first creating chaos as a teaching tool.
Teach your children well
Feed them on your dreams
The ones you believe in
Will make a world
that we can live in
Feed them good dreams
The ones you believe in
Will make a world
We can all live in
*A nod to Graham Nash
View my new slide show
I presented, Art Dreams Life, at the virtual International Dream Conference June 13th-17th.
I was awarded First Place in the juried Art Exhibit. Click here to view the exhibit.
Click image for a better view Postcard # 13 and the 2nd colored image (below) is Postcard # 122
This is a ghost image print from the original first print of Thunderbird’s Gift. Even though this was printed when the first Thunderbird was printed in May 2020 I have just recently drawn on top of the print adding color and depth by hand, June 2021.
Here is a dream I had recently:
Listen to “Forest Spirit”
A story worth sharing
On a recent Sunday my husband and I were installing my new old Griffin etching press into my studio. The press weighs about 600 pounds, so once I decided the placement this is where it would stay. No pressure. Just when I settle on an inch here, an inch there and I say “I think this is good” my cell phone rang. Even though I was right in the middle of making decisions and cleaning the studio and moving furniture to fit the press in, and my husband was looking at me like “okay now we have to get the press off the rollers” and the music was rocking, I answered my phone, which is not something I would normally do when I am busily engaged in a project.
The woman on the line said her name was Robin and that she was trying to place an order on my web site but she coudn’t get it to work. I asked her what part is not working and tried to pin point the problem. She began to cry. I turned off the music and held up my hand as a signal to my husband that I needed to deal with this call right now and the press would have to wait, even though I had waited two and a half years for this press.
Robin told me that she was in stage IV cancer and was in hospice care and that she just couldn’t seem to follow the steps to complete the order. She shared with me how much she has loved my work and that my images made her less fearful about her death. She said that she had a little money left and that she wanted to buy my work to give as gifts and thank-yous to the people she loved and to all the people who had helped her through this dying process. She wanted me to send the prints and cards overnight to Portland where she lived. I told her that I could do that and she gave me her order over the phone. She placed a large order and said that the giclee print of “She Let Her Words Fly Forth as Blessings like White Birds Cheering the Heart” (above) is one that she was keeping for herself because it makes her feel safe and held and had a healing quality that spoke to her heart. I was feeling choked up and very honored by what Robin was sharing with me. I asked her if there was no chance to beat this cancer and she says not at this point, there was only a little time left to her. When she said this I suddenly saw her surrounded by luminous beings with their arms outstretched waiting to catch and help her. I had only known Robin for fifteen minutes but I saw this image in my mind’s eye very clearly. So, I believe her. I told her about the vision I saw around her. She got teary and I got teary. I told her that I would get the order in the mail the first thing in the morning. We said our heartfelt thank-yous and goodbyes.
When I hung up the phone I knew that I was going to drive to Portland even though I couldn’t afford to take the time but I knew in my heart that I couldn’t afford not to. I wanted to make sure that the order got to her safely and the only way I could be sure of that was to take it to her. It took me the rest of the day to print out the giclees and to assemble the order. I would drive up Monday and back on Tuesday because I had to get the studio ready for a class on Wednesday.
I called Robin the next day and she was immediately concerned about the order. I told her that instead of sending it I was going to deliver it to her. She was relieved and so happy. She was worried that she was going to die before she could make sure the art work went to the right people. I couldn’t leave Ashland before 3:00 but I would do my best to get there between 7:30 and 8:00. This would work for her. On my drive I reflected on all the times lately that I have been thinking “Does it really matter what I do? Does what I do really make a difference?” This past year was the busiest year I have ever had. And I can really stress out trying to get things done like shows and deadlines, new art ideas, working time at the Ashland Art Center studio, time working at my home studio, teaching, home life, walking. And when I am tired I think “why am I doing it?” Then I got a call from Robin and I know why I do the work I do. I am so humbled by her situation and the fact that one of the last things she wants to do in her life is to buy my work and give it away to her loved ones. What a gift she has given me. I will remember this. I asked her how she knows of my work and she says that her counselor has several pieces of my work in her office and that her counselor saw me on Oregon Art Beat. We just can’t know how the little things we do will affect people or when. That Art Beat segment was 4 years ago.
I made it to Robin’s apartment between 7:30 and 8:00. Her best friend and care-giver Theresa was there and they both welcomed me like an honored guest. But I was the one blessed to be allowed in to this very private life and death event. I didn’t know what I was going to say to her but I wasn’t worried about it. I just knew that being fully present and just showing up is enough. I gave her a gift of a Story Art book. I wanted to give her something new so that she could enjoy it for as long as she had left. She was thrilled with the gift and she gave me a gift of a small carved wooden bear. This meeting for the first and last time was very poignant. Robin told me that when she is on the other side that she will be an advocate for me and my work. I thanked her for that and we said our heartfelt goodbyes and soul-to-soul thank-you’s.
Robin lived for another six days and she was able to give all the art work to her loved ones, including a personal note that accompanied each piece. For someone I had only known a week she has had a huge impact on my life. I am humbled and awed by her affirmation of me and my work. Thank you Robin Hall you have blessed my life and I am grateful to have known you.
I don’t have too much to say right now. I think it is because I am in “art head”. I have been immersed in doing art or creatively thinking about art every day and pretty much all day. Switching gears to write takes a different part of my brain. That being said, I have been printmaking this week. I am very happy with what has been appearing on the plates. When I am printmaking by myself I can go very deep and when this happens the emerging image takes me with it on it’s journey of becoming. The “hot off the press” piece below gave me chills(in a good way). I know that there is a big story with this image and the prints that followed. I will have this piece and the consecutive pieces on display at the Art Center this First Friday. I will show all of the prints in my next newsletter. They are so “hot” that I haven’t photographed them yet.
When I am not in art head I am in “dog head”. Ursula, my dog is very good at putting pictures in my mind, like, pictures of me getting my walking shoes and keys, or of her walking on her favorite trail, or her running in the water, or her catching a ball, or of me giving her a treat. Whenever I pause and look up from whatever I am concentrating on she is looking at me and planting pictures in my head. I am not kidding. She is really good at it. And it works too because the next thing I know is that I am looking for my keys even though I am right in the middle of gluing a book or something.
I am grateful for Ursula because she gets me outside in this beautiful weather. I love these cool mornings. Today I love being an artist.
Hot off the Press
This photo is from above my sink in my studio. I made the “Trust” sign at least 25 years ago. It has been prominently displayed in my studio work place ever since. It reminds me to trust my work, my art, my self. It reminds me not to lose faith or heart in what I am doing as an artist and as a human. I hate to admit it but there are times when I do lose heart and worry about money and how to keep it flowing and not let it affect my work. There have been times when I go into contraction and fear around the lack of sales and how I will pay the bills much less buy that new press I want. I wish money wasn’t part of the exchange and I wish it wasn’t how we measure success in our society. It does get in my creative way when I feel that I have to justify myself as an artist with respect to how much money I am bringing in. I do not have the answers and I don’t know how it will all work out. I can only know where I am in this present moment and I choose to be in trust.
Along with the “Trust” sign is the “Art is Always Worth it”. This I added to the wall about 10 years ago. I don’t think of this sign in terms of money worth. I think of it as, no matter what my circumstances or my state of affairs, doing my art is of utmost importance. Art is always worth it even though I cannot always see or know the effect my art has in the world and whatever the effect or affect, this cannot be measured monetarily. It comes back to trust.
I have the “Caution Mind Your Head” because when I am in my head I am trying to know what I can’t know. I am trying to figure it all out. And when I can’t figure it out I go into worry and I back track and start doing the things the way I have always done them because this is what I know but this doesn’t work anymore because this is a new day with new challenges.
Yesterday’s solutions do not fix today’s problems. My heart just isn’t in doing something the old same way. So I try to mind my head and stay in my heart and breathe and trust. Sometimes doing all this is a lot of work just to keep myself clear enough to be an artist and allow what I am reaching for, to reach for me. This is one of the magical things about art making. When I am in trust with my work, my art, and my self, my creativity is unstoppable and alive with potential and purpose. When I am doing my art I am the best that I can be.
The “I Taught My Pet Monkey” card speaks for itself.
I just learned that EARTH without ART is, Eh?