Color on the Palette Linka Behn

When you live your creative life to the fullest, it pays back. It also wears out.

We can ‘run out of juice’ if we are conscious of the energy that it requires of us. Many comment to me, “I wish I could just paint, do what I want…”
Really?
“JUST…?”

There is the perception that what we do as artists is easy and comes with out effort. And sometimes it does. But many times we labor and fuss and struggle with things that don’t seem to work, no matter how many times we try to develop that idea, get that color right, catch just the right light, smooth that edge, find the right part… There is no instruction book to being an artist. Since each of us tries to create in our own voice, each of us has particular and individual challenges. And there is no answer book either. (Shoot…)

And facing those challenges day after day can be tiring, use up energy, leave us empty.

And we burn out. The creative juice dries up like water on a hot summer Dallas day….pffffft!
We have to remember to monitor our resources- those internal clear pools that provide the “flow,” the inspiration for our work. When you see that you have hit the wall, again, or over and over again–there’s a message there. Come on… Give your self a break.

There are many ways of refilling the creative pool, to refill the bank of ideas from which we draw inspiration and ideas for our work. One I use is through a camera. I just go somewhere and shoot some picts for a while. The necessity of seeing through that small opening, deciding what will and will not be seen, deciding what interests me, what is ‘beautiful’ today. I get to see differently how colors work, how textures are revealed, making design work FOR me in side the limiting viewfinder box. This uses a different part of my brain and begins the filling up. It fills up the imagination for me, giving me ideas for new work.

It also just feels good to see how amazing the world is… I slow down. My spirits rise, my endorphins start pumping and I get the painting, the sculpture, the artist’s book, the commission out of my mind. The side benefit? Your brain often solves a problem when you walk away. You may find that when you return to the creative problem you were facing, you see the answer. Or maybe just the next step. That’s enough for most of us… just a bit of light on the next step to start us going again.
All because you stopped, took a break.

And if you are like me, you ended with some awesome shots to boot!!

We begin again— The MFAIA week. This time, it’s Lisa Birthday…

Hyped from the anticipation, Arriving after a severe snow storm where we could not see the end of the car, much less the edge of the road, telling old faces Hello” with a hugs and “How are you’s?”– we begin the intensive studies that preface the MFAIA program I belong within.

The difference… It is Lisa’s birthday. Away from home, as the luck should fall, she must share her birthday with the excitement of many who arrive for this week plus of art centered focus.

Kind of seems unfair.

So at Goddard this Friday, with temps at -5 degrees, with purple shadows that chase the ground… we raised a glass to Lisa–

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!”

and may we all have a wonderful week!

Muse…

The word has so many connotations now. It has become an elusive creature, (so we are told) with whom we must keep company in order to be in the least original. To be creative, it is expected that we will hold her hand and she will lead us. It is thought that she will join us in the dance, and stay by our side to help us through the tough spots of our chosen work. Her necessary presence will allow us to complete when we stall, stand when we stumble, move forward when we have come to a stop. There are books written of her involvement, movies with her as the fumbling creative’s savior, credit given to her in writings of the greats who come before us, and instructions/suggestions on how we can learn to tease her to stay near, or find her when she has wandered off.

Gifts for a good cause

As an artist, I am often asked to donate time or work for a worthy cause. Most often, I wish to participate, to give to share what I do with others, to support a cause I believe is worthy. But that cannot happen in every case. If I were to say “YES!” to every request, I would do no work of my own. Many times, those asking do not understand the amount of time involved in completing what is asked. Sometimes those asking do not understand the sheer number of groups and individuals, all worthy, that come to request help. And yet, now working for a non-profit, I understand that resources are precious. Generosity is sought, and those who are able to share talents and skills and financial resources are being asked to offer more than ever.

Wanted... for Camp Craig Allen

As such, this is a gift to Camp Craig Allen. Beginning a huge building project for a new state of the art facility in Aubrey for those who find their lives may always include a wheelchair, this group will change the lives of many, many people- young to not so. Retraining others to become self sufficient and to regain confidence in themselves and live full independent lives is their goal. Our gift: give the temporary headquarters on Main Street a face lift. The mural was the answer. Check out the progress as we finish our participation in support of the awesome goal of this group.

Wanted… for Camp Craig Allen

Searching reference material this morning, I found this article — Play sense– written by Collyn Ahart Chipperfield. Design oriented, the discussion lists (in the author’s opinion) what creates a good play experience. What is meant to be playful, often is not… As artist, I will be doing a community project-  a mural for the library, involving any who wishes to participate in creating the art. I would like this to be ‘playful.’Interesting to me is the invitation to MAKE art playful– FUN!

Take a moment and visit this and see what is said…

Collyn Ahart Chipperfield » Blog Archive » Play Sense.

I wrote earlier about how many new retail designs which may be playful don’t necessarily incite play.  Play is one of the fundamental components of a good experience. This doesn’t mean all good experiences are playful (one wouldn’t usually expect a Holocaust Museum to be playful). Perhaps what is needed here is a discussion about what is facilitated by playful and play-inciting design.

1. Priming: The media theory term for preparing the visitor’s state of mind for what they’re about to see or do: Playful spaces put people into a playful state of mind and prime their anticipation for coming attractions. Often priming is as simple as giving permission to participation, through invitation or mimicry of an established precedent.

2. Contact: Personal touch is often a difficult concept – let alone behaviour – for people to get used to. Particularly in the UK, with such strong, ingrained social rules about personal space and appropriateness, touch (both of other people and of objects) is often avoided. People will go to extreme measures to avoid contact! Giving permission and even encouraging contact is potentially the most powerful play components. play.orchestra and the other RFH hoarding interventions led by my CSM Narrative Environments MA in 2005-2006 went a long way to promote personal contact and touch. For Hidden Love Song, visitors were encouraged to touch and physically manipulate the scratch-off paint design; this designed vandalism revealed hidden stories and poems beneath.

More on the site.

Returning from the MFA-IA at Goddard in Vermont, there is a disconnect. I am with family, but I seem in disconnect. I am with friends, but my head still spins around ideas presented at tabletops with peers in Vermont.I am bodily here, but my feet have not found ground.

It is a commonality I have found- the transition jolt. Speaking with other friends in the program, the intensity of the time there pumps up enthusiasm and drains energy at the same time. Leaving, you are excited to see family and friends, yet sad to leave friends who speak your language. Returning, the shock of the normal world jolts you back to the reality of the hold in which creativity must sit.

There were storms leaving Baltimore airport, and my flight was delayed hours as we waited the storms lessening. Checking the clock often, I knew moment by moment, I was pushing the connection from Philadelphia to Dallas. I began to get antsy… would I make it?

I didn’t. Finally boarding, the attendant had given me a choice- stay in Burlington over night, maybe flying out Saturday, probably Monday. Or stay in Philadelphia and sly out late Saturday. Like any optimistic southern woman artist- I chose Philadelphia. The stay in the airport added to my disconnect– no place to comfortably sit, nor any particular thing to do, in stall. Waiting. That is the ultimate transition.

Arriving, plans were out of place, bags were already in Dallas when I was not. My schedule off, body tired from the unexpected as well as from the residency challenges. I was without gravity, where is up? Where is the place for feet?

Out of sync.

We all have these times. The times when we sit in a group and realize we are not OF them… We are with them, participating, perhaps in love and joy, sharing words and conversation and activity…but.  We are not really OF them at that moment. It is as if we are watching a movie. Separate.

It is hard returning. The real world pricks our peace, our insight, our walk is challenged.

Transitions… from there to here. From here to there…

But in the transition, we stretch and nothing returns to the same again. We are more aware, more in tune, more focused… perhaps after loosing our feet for a bit… but when again on the ground, we do not return to the same place of the past.The world has twisted and shifted while our feet did not touch and landing, we see a new landscape.

It is a process- from here to there.

Do not loose faith in you. Take a bold step.

When you arrive in a place where there is no television, few cars for the walk is easy, food is provided, and art is the language, passion becomes the adjective and running commentary is the output.

I am in my residency at Goddard College in Plainfield Vermont this week. There are many other artists here, in varying stages in the progress of education, in varying fields of endeavor, with differing background and experiences. This is the MFA-IA program… Master’s of Fine Arts- Interdisciplinary Arts. We are a group of explorers, combining from all feeds of life into our artwork. That may include astrology, to sociology, to engineering, to zen, to world peace and ecology– plus all in-between.

I am on campus with dear and loving muses- those who make me fly in meeting their steps, who hold me when I fall and who carry the burden when too heavy. Fellow artists and strong women, I praise my thankful luck and bellow my laughter following each conversation with these creative women.

Walking here is so peaceful, one could forget there is a world that exists just outside. Yet the intensity of this day to day would cause a collapse if it were to continue for more than the week plus that it is dedicated.

Walking to the library, I found little nature shrines, or so I call them… rocks balanced precariously upon one another in the side grass. Near the beginning of the intensity of the woods, the small discoveries cause you to slow and appreciate the simplicity of a tiny natural sculpture.

This is what I saw…

Little abstracts, little pieces of color and design, push to pull, dark to light, bright to dull, demanding to passive. These little business card size abstracts become the base for small encouragements for creativity, for continuing, for faith in self, for quotes and words of belief.

Beauty at the Mecca in Aubrey

I love texture. Touching, collecting, painting, making, touching… oh. I said that.

Sometimes there are things near, just beautiful moments of things that grab my eye and beg attention. We walk by– barely noting, and keep on with the path. But what have we missed in that determination to get some where?

Everywhere we go are snippets that define beautiful. A rusted star, no longer useful for its original intent, on the side of a 110 year old building in a small town in Texas. A row of lights down a long sidewalk. A crumbling brick. Peeling paint. We walk past, barely seeing. Gifts and we let them pass.

These sound sad- forgotten. But they tell us of something that was important and cared for. Now again cared for. Now again important. Bits of life, more interesting for the wear, character with story to tell, waiting for us to notice.

The other day, I walked around the beautiful old building that holds my studio and took pictures of these things that call. Not sad, but full of character, interest, beauty. These images were on or near the building in Mecca on Main in Aubrey. This Grande Dame is now renewed with activity and art and jewelry and people who care. And surrounding that lovely building were these little jewels, things I found pulled my curiosity, the camera’s eye. Out of contest, full of charm, tons of texture… I share with you. If you like- come by and I will show you these jewels that the Grande Dame at Mecca wears.

paint

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