Costa Rica Heat from Marika Reinke Original SOLD Limited Edition Print $45 – takes up to a week to ship. I will order and customize in silver, gold and iridescent paint. Pack of 10 5″ x 7″ Art Cards: $35 – takes up to 2 weeks to order and ship
A tree and climber tend to each other while conjuring private magic.
One offers height, an ever changing maze, adventure, and endless possibility of another world. The other lays hope before her, curiosity and this secret; to understand what lays in her own hands. With each strong grasp and successful push she learns she is capable, again, again, and more.
In a tree’s magic cradle.
Watercolor 24″ x 18″
Buy Here
Original Sold (Commission)
Customized Limited Edition Prints: $65
This is a lot of work, a lot of mistakes, learning and a little bit of duct tape and cardboard to pull it all together.
Not only is it a lot of work making it look like this.
But it is a lot of work getting myself organized like I’ve never been organized as an artist before.
Usually, I handle details like certificates of authenticity and storycards, personalization, custom prints with silver and gold embelishments and payment as they role in. Getting an art booth ready requires you be prepared for anything. I prefer to be over-prepared but I confess I’ve been flying by the seat of my pants.
If anything, this project has propelled me into a commitment level and preparation level I was too insecure to handle. Now, I’m committed. The fear of not being prepared has committed me. That makes me laugh.
I’m seriously changing my workflow so I don’t have to do so much all at once. Ever. Again.
I’m almost done.
My Goal by this Saturday at 6 pm: A good system in place so my husband can help me at the party while I drink wine.
And hang out with some friends I haven’t seen for awhile. These people are awesome. I don’t want to miss them.
Notice the feathers? Those are my daughter’s addition. As she has watched this art booth emerge, her excitement has mounted as has her “help”.
Every now and then I look up and breath a bit and think “holy cow, I created all of this.” And then I look at my To-Do List and I’m back at it.
There isn’t a way this would have happened without my husband, who is awesome help, wicked talented, and amazingly supportive. This party is going to have the best wine because of him. And he, unlike me, hasn’t broken a single frame. I’ve got him 2 to 0 on that score.
And now, I’m going back to that To-Do List. Hope to see you soon.
March 28th, I’m having my first Studio Party at my house. And I’m just going to confess this: I’m excited but terrified. If I thought I could get away with it, I wouldn’t do this. But, I know I have to. My husband insisted and he is even more of an introvert than I am. I can’t say that I want to be an artist and not invite people to enjoy my work. Well, duh.
In many ways, this will be a coming out. This is the official event announcing my transformation from teaching faculty to professional artist. It really is something to celebrate!
But on my list of things I’m not so comfortable with: crowds and being the center of attention. Sigh.
I actually like a good party. And I love to eat. And don’t get me started about wine. 🙂 And I love that art is about people and relationships. I love the mutual gift that is art-making.
So head down, I persist. We will have art, gift cards, scarves, some pendants, wine (for my nerves) and appetizers.
So far we expect maybe 40 people. I will see good friends, old colleagues and a good handful will be bringing friends and people I don’t know.
And another plus; I’m going to apply to some art fairs this year. The jurors want a picture of an art booth. So in the next few days, I’m transforming the dining room into an art booth for the Studio Party. Why not?
My vision; navy walls, cream and/or gold tablecloths, classic wood furniture, accents of burgundy and fiery orange. Flowers and chocolate. Paintings dripping from the walls and furniture. Classy, formal and someplace you want to stay and peek around for awhile.
I can hear my husband rolling his eyes. Me and my visions mean a lot of work for him.
Wish me luck! I can’t wait to see some of you soon!
This painting is inspired by a friendship and her vision. To know her, is to know someone embedded in a journey with peace, not just of her own but to those most suffering. And in her journey, her deep strength unseen, her soothing calm beneath the surface. She carefully tends to herself as she rushes to tend yours. Her ability to do this is awe-inspiring.
Goodbye Adrian: A Story of Miscarriage (c) Marika Reinke 2015
Through the echoes of death, love, blood, fear and sad slow tears we rode this goodbye learning that being lost in the unknowable, uncontrollable, unimaginable only brings wordless awe for the mystery of life.
All things happen for incomprehensible reasons. Souls were meant to meet. This soul needed a fleeting chance to feel our love and a name to be complete.
watercolor 16″ x 12″
about My Miscarriage
In 2008, I miscarried. I sensed something was wrong and an early 7 week ultrasound proved the pregnancy was not viable. Adrian had not developed past 5 weeks. We grieved; our already-named baby, our hopes, our plans for our kids and our imaginary family.
I waited for the miscarriage to happen naturally.
Week by week went by and nothing happened. I still felt pregnant, I was nauseous and irritable. My confused body still wanted to tend to the Adrian’s lifeless form. I felt weak, tired and sad in my waiting. It was a time of intense numbness and many tears.
After 4 weeks, I began to miscarry and it went terribly wrong. The bleeding was too heavy. At the ER waiting room it went from somewhat concerning to intense and scary. I passed out. A black, cold, viscous faint that sucked my life force and took away my capacity to think. I lost far too much blood.
I was revived and received an emergency D & C. When I woke from the operation, I was enveloped in a deep sadness. Adrian almost took me with him. I felt stuck and empty from the violent parting. My capacity to create life had almost taken my own life.
Untitled Chaos (c) Marika Reinke 2008 – I painted after I miscarried 2008.
It is not a coincidence that I became pregnant with my son the same month that Adrian would have been born. It was our last goodbye and parting blessing.
Miscarriage is a silent and common grief many women bare. At least 10% – 35% pregnancies are estimated to end preemptively.
FEATURED
This painting was featured on the cover of the German magazine raum&zeit May 2016 issue.
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