I’ve never thought of myself as a strategist.  Let me tell you, up next to my brother Fred, who was a fabulous strategist, I could never measure up.  

What I’m realizing is that there is a lot of strategy involved in planning paintings. So the game of “Risk” just wasn’t my thing.  I don’t think I won a sing game against my brother.  But I digress. 

Strategy and preparation have been big on my mind this past weekend.  Currently I’m in the process of my next series focused entirely on Tulips.  It all begins with taking some photos, printing those photos, then selecting ones that I think would be great paintings. 

From the selected image, I then make some decisions about what size canvas I want to put the image on to.  In the case of the white tulip above, the bottom 1/3 of the image is not very interesting, so I will want to crop that out in the painting.  And the top right hand side is not very interested either.  So I will crop the image down to keep the centre of the flower as the focal point.  With all that cropping a vertical rectangle feels like the correct proportions to capture this image.  

Once the canvas is stretched I put several layers of medium on the raw canvas to be sure that the fibres are well sealed.  Oil paint is acidic and over time it will deteriorate the canvas if the surface isn’t prepared properly. 

The strategy and planning that goes into each canvas is an extension of my creative license.  Yes, there are some technical skills that need to be respected, but size, dimension, surface material etc are all up for me to choose.  I find this really exciting because I get to ‘feel’ my way through the decisions.  

In the example that I gave about the white tulip above, I get to decide on the cropping and composition, knowing my artist eye likes to keep the focal point on the most dramatic part of the scene.  I love that.  

I hope you have enjoyed this little glimpse into the studio.  Let me know if you have any questions by leaving a comment below. 

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While I was working on this little sketch yesterday morning I was thinking a lot about why my art, my voice, your voice, your preferences matter.  

What I came to realize, and I've known for some time, is that what I have to say through my art or my words, is unique and valuable.  Just as your voice is important, however you express that voice.

I think, particularly now with all that is going on in the world, we can feel a bit overwhelmed and silenced.  A bit paralyzed really.  I assure you this is a natural response.  I've been feeling much the same way and working on other things rather than painting.  Yesterday was my first foray into creating art again.  This little drawing was the inspiration to pick up the pencil and begin again. 

I was shocked by how this happened.  I was sitting in the yard in the sunshine and this idea/internal voice said "sketch this beautiful peony leafing out."  My response was to just go do it.  Rather than the litany of negotiating that often happens.  By negotiating I mean the internal qualifying of an impulse, the rationalizing, the deciding.  I just acted versus thinking too much about it.  

This is what triggered the notion of my voice.  Why this peony, why now, why the motivation?  Because for my well being this voice, creating a new drawing, is me resurfacing after all these sudden changes.  I've also lost a childhood friend to cancer so I know that I'm grieving her as well.  In a nutshell, I have not felt up to creating much.  

That all changed with this drawing.  My inspiration was showing me the way back to my creative process. I love that I just followed and feel much better for it. 

During this time of uncertainty, what are you drawn to act on?  It could be a knitting project, baking bread, going for a walk, calling a friend to chat.  All of these gestures are elements of your creativity and voice.  Just act.  Allow yourself to show up however you feel compelled.  Your voice matters, a lot.  Perhaps more now than ever as we are all grappling with the changes.  

Please share your voice with us (tears spring to my eyes, instantly as I write this.) What you are inspired to add to this beautiful life experience will help you and it will help all of us.  Don't be shy.  Express yourself.  

,What I'm hearing is the most difficult part of sheltering in place is the not seeing other other people.  This is such an unusual time we are living and yet there are so many blessings happening as well.  The duality of it all never ceases to amaze me. 

I'm also aware, with the loss of seeing others in person, we have lost some of the exchange of love that we are accustomed to.  Yes, we can use social conferencing platforms, face time etc. But you know what these platforms don't do is provide that physical touch.  That physical love that we exchange each time we are together. 

If you are anything like me, then you likely have a box of cards that you have kept, love notes, that others have sent to you over the years.  I realize the notes that my mother sent me over the years, in her own handwriting are something that I will keep for the rest of my life.  Her love is steeped in the words that she wrote to me.  These cards are priceless. 

During this time of social isolation we have that same opportunity to send our loved ones special notes written in our own hand.  They may even be treasures that they keep for a lifetime.  

There's a nice opportunity that all of us have.  

Do you have a box of cards that you have kept?  I'd love to hear your stories.  Leave a comment below.  

This is such an important question.  You likely already have art at home that has a place on your wall, so what do you do when a new piece arrives? 

Let's begin at the beginning.  You have received a new piece and you have a lovely wall space for just that piece.  Easy.  The ideal height for hanging art is 58" to the centre of the piece.  This puts it at the average eye level.  The problem with this new knowledge is that you have to calculate a few measurements to actually arrive at the centre of your piece hanging at 58".  It's necessary to factor in the apex of the wire hanger on the back and how far it sits below the top of the painting.  Once you know the apex, calculate how far that is below the edge of the frame.  Mark that measurement down. Then measure the height of the art work and divide that in half. Then subtract the distance between the wire and the top of the frame. Put the nail at that height.

Now what if you have several images that you want to arrange on one wall.  I found a wonderful article that talks about laying out your images in a Salon Style.  I'll include the link here for you to visit that article.  

I found the illustrations to be really useful.  The article also includes some guidelines around colour choices.  If you have too little colour or too much colour how do you handle that.  What if you have modern pieces and traditional pieces, how do you handle that?  Very interesting.  

You know those times when you spontaneously react to something.  Like the sigh that spontaneously escapes you, or the "oh my" reaction.  I simply pay attention to those because they have touched my spirit in some way.  So I know if they touched me then they are likely to touch other people to0. 

The other piece beyond the subject matter, is the angle that I choose to capture the image and the framing that my artistic eye finds appealing.  I like to capture the image with enough information that I can further edit the frame back in the studio, but to be honest, I like to capture the image pretty much how I see the painting coming together.  I'd rather not do a ton of editing and cropping of the image.  If the framing inspires me in the moment then it's likely significant framing for the final painting.  I hope that makes sense. 

So what has you stop and take notice?  What touches your spirit?  I'd love to hear about it.  Leave a message below.  

I've been walking down memory lane today.  Let me share what found. This painting is quite special.  It was the first painting that I have ever sold.  I produced it when I was at University studying to complete my Bachelor's degree in visual arts.  A friend of mine offered her shop for a show of my work.  I think I hung 4 pieces for a month within her salon.  

It wasn't long before one of her patrons decided to purchase this beauty.  I have no idea where it is hung as I failed to keep in touch.  However, I'm thrilled that it is out there somewhere.  It feels like a beacon reminding me of all that is possible.  It is the evidence that my work is saleable.  That I can paint.  That my joy translates onto the canvas.  

I thought you might like to see it.  It is different than my current work, however, it is the foundation of where my art career began.  

What do you think?  Let me know.  I'm curious. 

​Ciel. 

My Peony Series is coming along.  I have plans to complete 15 paintings all focused on that gorgeous bloom - the peony. 

This is one of the most challenging flowers to paint simply because of the abundance of petals that you literally get lost in as you try to articulate which one goes where.  

My process, up until this point, has been to articulate the shapes using the greyscale.  This has been a really effective way to capture the details, then move to colour once that layer has dried.  There are a couple of limitations to this, the main one being time.  1) The time to create the painting increases because you are basically painting the image twice and 2) the drying time for each layer ads to the completion time of the painting. 

So I decided to venture into painting directly in colour rather than the greyscale.  To be honest, I've been a bit scared by it.  Removing a key step to my process unsettled me.  However, I just began, like I always do, putting paint on the canvas.  I'm 9 hours in with several of the hours being wasted in doubt and mixing the various shades of pink.  Can you hear the judgement when I say wasted in the previous sentence. 

Yes, judgement has been a constant companion with this change in process.  It's really no different than the judgement that I was faced with when I started the greyscale process.  So I know I've travelled this path before and it's a necessary step to the success that I have already achieved in the greys.  It's no different with colour.  Building confidence required that we do something versus just reading or wishing about it.   

One of my mentors calls it the "Messy Middle".  It sure is a messy middle.  It's a hot mess, or that's what my judgemental mind wants to tell me.  

However, the other thing I know to be true is that I can only focus on one section at a time, and I do know what I'm doing if I pay attention and listen to what my intuition is telling me needs to come next.  That's all I ever have to work with.  

As David Whyte says "Start close in."  I'll attach the poem here for you.  Start close in with the first step.  That's all we have to work with.  Just start close in.  

Start Close Inby David Whyte
Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.
Start with
the ground
you know,
the pale ground
beneath your feet,
your own
way to begin
the conversation.
Start with your own
question,
give up on other
people’s questions,
don’t let them
smother something
simple.
To hear
another’s voice,
follow
your own voice,
wait until
that voice
becomes an
intimate
private ear
that can
really listen
to another.
Start right now
take a small step
you can call your own
don’t follow
someone else’s
heroics, be humble
and focused,
start close in,
don’t mistake
that other
for your own.
Start close in,
don’t take
the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.
A David Whyte poem from
River Flow: New & Selected Poems
Many Rivers Press

Claiming what we want is not always easy.  We don't want to come across as a victim, we want to take responsibility for our decisions and we want to consciously step into what we want.  Give a listen to my journey of claiming something that I want, an artist residency to focus on growing my art practice. 

​

Since 2008, I've been collecting images with the intention of creating paintings from them.  Have you ever collected things for some day and wondered when that someday will every come? Or perhaps it isn't even a some day thought, but rather a "Wow, I collect a lot of things. What was I going to do with this?"

I'm notorious for having more ideas than I can act on.  What this has created for me, is a backlog of creative ideas.  Unfortunately some of those ideas, when I pick them up months later, no longer hold the juice or appeal that they once did.  This is an idea that has gone stale and I'm best to just move on, and let it go, rather than trying to give it mouth to mouth. 

Feb 2019, was one of those moments where I was checking on which creative ideas were still breathing and worth saving. I have a binder that I've put my collected images in and decided to see if there was anything I wanted to pursue.  

The Lit Lotus flower caught my eye immediately.  I remember thinking "I wonder if I could paint that?" It seemed pretty difficult and I had nothing to lose.  I was either going to be able to paint it or I wasn't.  

Now this post isn't so much about the selection of the image or the challenges I perceived I would have.  What is really important here is that I followed my curiosity.  I allowed my creativity to speak to me.   What if my muse also want to meet me in this creative place? What if the creation of art is not all about me? What if by showing up, I allow a force greater than myself to speak through me? 

That seemed like a cool idea and it sort of let me off the hook.  All I had to do was listen, show up, and follow the guidance that I am given.  Rather than thinking that I have to decide and figure out every aspect of the piece on my own.  

Now I don't know about you, but my monkey mind likes to have a hay day with me and tell me how untalented I am, how I've failed, and who am I to think I could be a painter, artist, author or whatever creative genius shows up to guide me. 

Facing my art with my monkey mind alone felt so heavy and unrewarding.  Like paddling against the current. 

However, if my responsibility was to show up and my muse will be there with me, to guide me, then I have an ally to do this with.  I won't be left alone with the monkeys.  Cool. 

This Lit Lotus has brought so many gifts as I've brought the piece together.  One of the most striking things is the light and the reflections.  The perspective of this image is showing us the underside of the lotus flower.  The underbelly if you will.  The mechanics under the star of the show (the centre of the flower).  What we see is the support system that is often hidden.  Which reminded me again of my muse who is there to support me.  The hidden structure that is holding me up to the light. 

Now as the light penetrates from above it casts a shadow of the far pedals on the inside of the near petals.  We are at once transparent and opaque.  The light can pass through and cast a notion of solidity on the areas that are receiving no light. 

What are the areas in you that appear solid, but have yet to receive the light?  Which areas are transparent?  

We can also consider the colour.  Gorgeous pink.  Yet the nuances of the pink gives us the descriptions we need to understand shape, order, rhythm and connection.  Amazing.  We can only understand the whole flower by considering the constituent  parts. Where the shadows falls on the interior of the bloom, two layers of pink line up to reveal a deeper colour.  I know this sounds simply like the physics of the illumination, but I find this to be a great metaphor for life.  Where the light does not penetrate we see/feel a deeper shade.  A depth that is not possible in the full light. 

Just as the lotus flower comes from the mud, and opens up its bloom once upon the top of the water, so too is this painting opening up to the enlightenment of our development.  As we clear the mud, tell ourselves the truth, and reach above the confusion we too can bloom into receiving the light and enrichment that only exists on the surface of the water. 

How does this image remind you of the mud that you have found yourself in?  How is it calling you to reach up to the surface and allow yourself to bloom? 

For me, telling myself the truth was centred around leaving a position that I was tolerating and allowing myself to bloom into my creativity.  I've become more authentic.  This is a tricky way to phrase it because it implies an inauthentic way of being.  Which may be partly true.  In not allowing myself to tell the truth about a situation that was causing me distress I was being inauthentic.  Telling the truth and allowing things to shift and change just as they are needed, can be a bit frightening.  However, I know that all this was necessary for me to turn towards the light and explore my creativity.  

I've cried several times as I relayed my shift to more painting with friends and family.  I've cried because I've spend 10 years as a coach encouraging and supporting other people to realize the life that they want to live, which has been great to see their progress.  What I was neglecting is my own desire.  I simply could not make space for all the things I was involved in and have this creativity blossom. 

I now cry because I'm proud of myself.  Proud that I am talented, capable, and successful.  Proud that I had the courage to be honest and allow this creativity to come through me.  

If you were to be completely honest, what would you be saying?  What would you realize.  

May this lotus flower remind you that it is only through growing out of the mud that we are able to breach the surface and bloom into our full beauty.