The sea is a literary being. It’s waves finger the sand with hieroglyphs and symbols leaving a puzzle of stories. We have slight moments to code-cipher that which we can’t know with any sense but the heart.
Watercolor 10″ x 7″
Join my E-mail List Here to get current news of events and special deals. I respect your privacy and will not share this information with others.
I offer special deals and offers to my Facebook fans. Come join me at Marika’s Art Studio
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″
Original Sold (Commission)
Customized Limited Edition Prints: $65
Join my E-mail List Here to get current news of events and special deals. I respect your privacy and will not share this information with others.
I offer special deals and offers to my Facebook fans. Come join me at Marika’s Art Studio
I’m not a graphic designer.
This was my first thought when my husband suggested this project. I’ve done the graphic design thing. I worked at a firm at one point. I’ve taught design and related software. I really respect graphic designers. It’s a lot of work, talent, persistence, thought, completely artistic but highly client focused and much more technical and straight edged than I’d like my next career to be. I’m not a white space person, I struggle with white space. I’m walking away from a computer screen in favor of a paint brush for a reason.
But all those “I’m nots” is more a defense to keep me in one place. And they are full of assumptions. I’m not in a position to be closed-minded. Plus I generally don’t respect a closed mind.
So I looked into it.
This work in progress is for my husband’s climbing team t-shirt. He sold hiring me to his team, and his coach liked my work. They understand they are getting a paintbrush.
I originally sketched this out vertically. I started drawing with one idea and ended with another. This is my concept sketch.
The team liked it. But we all agree horizontal for a t-shirt is better. My husband doesn’t like pink (typical). They all prefer red, blue and green. The name of the team will be under it. I thought I would use a program for it, but maybe I’ll paint it now. I’m warming to the completely handmade idea.
I don’t usually sketch as heavily under my painting but I am real sensitive to getting those climbers right in relationship to the rocks. We are a climbing family, my husband and I have been climbing for over a dozen years and the kids with us. It won’t be right if they aren’t right.
It’s a small project, but fun to capture something we are all so dedicated to. And perhaps the fear of not getting it right is really why my initial reaction was full of “I’m Nots”.
Lesson learned.
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!
Did you know that a baby sea turtle isn’t much bigger than a ping pong? And they are dark, almost black. From afar, they could be wet bark and then they move. Amazing. As they grow they stretch that layer thin and the green reveals itself.
Seeing one is witnessing a breathing miracle. The one in Mexico was deadly persistent in its pursuit of the sea. A wondrous role model. Sadly, it didn’t make it. There were many factors against the poor thing, including the crowd of tourists, the daylight, the gentle-ish yet inconsistent surf and the pelicans circling overhead. The survival rate of a baby turtle is about 1% and humans contact lower these chances more. Yes, we can kill them with our love.
It did not escape my daughter, Dana, that this was a and uncommon and momentous event. She drew the experience and then steadily persisted that I paint her drawing.
I’m grateful for sea turtle markings which are like an unique topographical map, and gave me some artistic freedom. Dana wanted a golden head. So gold she had it and though I was challenged by it, I’m thankful to not have to map that artistic decision.
Although I’m an abstract and illustrative artist sometimes I find myself struggling with the seen and seek permission to break through the literal. Why do I need permission? Why do I feel like my painting must look like what is? That makes me laugh. I insist there is much we don’t see. I’m very interested in making the invisible, visible. And yet, I struggle. It is a human bind.
Every choice is very deliberate in art making, even when it seems arbitrary. This turtle tested the balance between symbols, color, memory, relationships and art. Because in part, it had to be a turtle as you and I know it while more fantastic to satisfy my child and the child in all of us.
Original Available: $300
Customized Prints: $55
Join my E-mail List Here to get current news of events and special deals. I respect your privacy and will not share this information with others.
I offer special deals and offers to my Facebook fans. Come join us here Marika’s Art Studio
Dana is happier with the turtles progress now. The water has pulled in the ideas she was exploring in her drawing. She notices this. She feels seen, she feels important. I have had a small moment of connection and motherly victory. I'll take what I can get. I get a lot of eye rolls and sighs these days too.
I also washed the head in some deep yellow because she suggested a golden head. I'm really going to have to think about the head now. I'll look at some pictures, but as I write some ideas are forming.
So much of painting is looking, studying, thinking. I often take long breaks and photos on my cell phone so I can just look. Before I had my studio, I used to prop my painting at at the end of the bed before I went to sleep, just to look at it and make decisions for my next painting session.
Her original drawing has a nest of eggs. She has told me not to include it now. Honestly, I'm glad to not include it, I knew it would be challenging to design. It will let me focus on the other elements more thoroughly. I think it will also reflect the experience of seeing the turtles more acurately. And in some way, that makes it more magical for me, and less scientific. Is that weird? The turtle just appears and we don't know where it comes from now.
For me, There is a point in painting, when a the painting goes from being a painting “of something” to a reflection of my viewpoint, where I and the painting merge. At this point I internally say “Now, this is me, now I'm heading somewhere,”. It is as if I and the painting are making our ways towards each other.
Ironically, often when I'm done, I laugh and think I must be a little insane. I don't mind being crazy as long as it makes me laugh.
The point is emerging, but I'm not there yet.
It is interesting to me how the practice of art is a melding of personalities and roles. The artist is the giver and the receiver is the subject or client or both. But somewhere in this process, I feel I’m gaining a very precious gift and our roles are reversed. I am grateful.
My daughter wants me to paint her turtle drawing (this is absolutely necessary since I finished Daire’s Dragon).
Daire’s dragon in many ways reflects him. It is all energy, desire and a frenetic wanting of everything without compromise. My son is 5, almost 6.
This turtle is calmer and more grounded, like my daughter. We saw baby turtles in Mexico this winter and large green turtles laying eggs in Costa Rica a couple years ago. It was magical, of the real life kind, both experiences were awe-inspiring. Unlike a dragon, turtles are a real life story. She draws what she sees and learns, she is very scientific and loves the natural world.
When she saw my progress, she was clear she wants more stimulating colors like the dragon – a golden head for example. This surprised me a little. She wants, in many ways, more of me in the painting. She also expressed the knowledge that I was only just beginning, and had confidence the end would be a lot different. She pays attention that way.
What I’m noticing is that through art, the giver and receiver express their relationship and that relationship matures in the process. It is very intimate and so wonderfully human.
I feel this in all the paintings I have done for others, but witnessing it being expressed from my daughters point of view is very touching and expanding. She is 8 almost 9, and really defining herself as a person. In doing so she is also defining me as her mother. She is making sense of me.
And this is in part what this painting is about, a mother making sense of her daughter and her daughter doing it right back.
Something we will do for the rest of our lives I suspect. I am grateful for it.
Let me know what you think with a comment or send me an email at [email protected]
Join my E-mail List Here to get current news of events and special deals. I respect your privacy and will not share this information with others.
I offer special deals and offers to my Facebook fans. Come join us here Marika’s Art Studio
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.
Meet Hate.
Hate is a very time consuming, energy sucking, and destructive pet. Not only does he ruin every rug in the house, pilfer every cabinet and consume all food; he is sure to eventually eat you. And you will be Dead.
For this reason, I do not recommend Hate. When you are in sustained pain or in a series of painful events, Hate may lurk under the porch light. My advice, let pain swell, listen to Hate knocking, but leave him at the door. He is not for you. You are better off.
No Pain is better than Hate. But being the absence of something is boring and shapeless. It is the epitome of “Eh” with a shoulder shrug. No Pain is numb, dull, anesthetized and blobby. No Pain will not kill you but will definitely waste your time and life.
If you are looking for a permanent companion, I do not recommend No Pain. There may be moments when you welcome No Pain; after a visit from Hate, or a really tough day at work or in the family. But No Pain should always be a temporary acquaintance.
I guarantee you will love Love. Everyone loves Love. Love feels good, warm, comfortable, life affirming and joyful. Love is a warm kiss and hug, a cup of hot chocolate, a cuddle, a heart bursting life affirmation, a good laugh, a connection and a purpose. Love promises much and can deliver on it and more.
I promise, you will be happy with this companion. Love is an excellent choice.
But, Love is only as good as her conditions.
For an even better life companion, I recommend a special crossbreed that will bring all the benefits of Love plus a thousand more. This crossbreed brings purpose, satisfaction, energy, empowerment, meaning, wisdom and unconditional Love. She may not be as beautiful, neat or symmetrical as Love, but this partnership will change your world, challenge you and return more than you expected.
This happens when Love is bred with a healthy understanding and acceptance of your Fear.
Warning: This interbreeding takes time, tending, reflection, constant care and a lot of forgiveness. But, it is when these two opposites interbreed that a life of magic can unfold. When you commit to live with Love while embracing your Fear, you are unstoppable.
This is living with Courage, a perfect companion.
We should celebrate baseline mammograms like a birthday, anniversary or graduation.
Mammograms usher in a new era. Let’s make it official and celebrate. In this era, I take the bodies of my friends and loved ones who age with me side by side. A party is necessary.
Technically, I “do not have a history of breast or ovarian cancer” in my family. This is routine.
But, I have a history of cancer; ovarian, breast or otherwise.
I have a history of cancer. I own this history.
This is what I speak of when I say a mammogram is sign of turning 40. Aging brings the continual pile of stories and we are wise to listen.
So when the technician pointed at her screen and said, “Here, come and look at this.” I held my boiling feelings in check. She was painfully inscrutable.
I looked and thought how achingly beautiful.
That was my breast with lovely web-like trestles, like palm prints, keeping history. That was my opaque muscle cradling it. That was my story; my puberty, my first bra, my sexuality, the humble pride, my first love, the assault and guilt, the sun bathing, my cleavage, the tight-or-loose shirt, swollen from pregnancy, aching from breastfeeding, my milk-giving children’s body, cradling them then slowly turning away and now my own but never the same. And now to be examined indefinitely.
We should celebrate a baseline mammogram because left unto themselves, they sting and stench of aging and forgetting.
But if we listen, they tell our stories and we are all wise to listen.
I should mention, the technician wanted to show me my pectoral muscle which extends significantly longer than average and revealed my “tremendous upper body strength.” Another story in the mammogram.
Join my E-mail List Here to get current news of events and special deals. I respect your privacy and will not share this information with others.
I offer special deals and offers to my Facebook fans. Come join us here Marika’s Art Studio
Posted with Blogsy
You must be logged in to post a comment.