Upon reading a quote about art (a musing)

I don't believe in total freedom for the artist. Left on his own, free to do anything he likes, the artist ends up doing nothing at all. If there's one thing that's dangerous for an artist, it's precisely this question of total freedom, waiting for inspiration and all the rest of it. -Federico Fellini (1920 - 1993)

I still don’t consider myself “an artist” because an artist, in my mind, is someone who can bring to life creative images that somehow form out of the whispers of muses; those people who can beautifully and miraculously capture life in the strokes of their brushes.  I am, however, a person who loves to create (even when it’s an act of imitation).  I have a little corner in my apartment that I like to call my studio. I have this little blog (neglected as it’s been) where I like to think I create pictures of moments or emotions with my words.

I have to say, it’s taken me a while to get here, this place where I accept my expressions in all their imperfect glory. I know I needed to give myself enough room to grow, to not be burdened by expectation; however, I am finding more and more that it is time to raise the bar. I have been too undisciplined in the name of creativity, in the name of expression. As Fellini would say, I have given myself too much freedom. I am in need of boundaries and deadlines and discipline.

This is just another area of my life, of me really, that needs balance. I have a habit of being an all or nothin’ kind of gal. I need to allow myself some middle ground and realize that inhabiting this place of personal compromise does not negate my passion or dedication. What it does mean is that I can keep both and still leave room for error, for successes, for frustration, for contentment.

So, once again I am reminded how much life has to teach me and how much I am eager to learn.

Time and Space

I Heart Huckabees: “Have you ever transcended space and time?”

A great line. A quirky line. A quirky line from a quirky movie. However, this line comes to me now as I think about my amazing friends. I am currently in Las Vegas visiting friends I haven’t seen in over a year; however, as we sat, ate, chatted, and laughed tonight, it might have been a week or a  day since we were doing the same thing. It seems that the only judge of time is their beautiful little boy, now eleven months old (last time I “saw” him, he was in-utero).  He is this living, breathing representation of how quickly life progresses.

I am sure I am not the only one who experiences this. We all have that friend or those friends that allow us to transcend time, sometimes space, but mostly time. It truly is a wondrous thing to know that regardless of how much stuff gets sandwiched between visits, we pick up where we left off: instantly comfortable, content, and ready to make new memories.
So, next time your existential detective asks you if you’ve transcended time, you can say, of course, I have friends. Really, it’s science, and there’s no use arguing science.

P.S. To those friends I haven’t seen in a while, can’t wait to bend the concepts of physics with you.

Originally written: 7/27/11

How to...

The self-improvement section in my local Barnes and Noble is large – quite large. One can learn how to improve one’s mental ability, diagnose one’s ailments, or become clairvoyant (really). These subjects, plus many, many more, fill the pressed wood shelves to capacity. This “how to be a better you” section does not, however, contain all the “how-to” wisdom that is in printed and bound form. Oh, no, it cannot be limited to one measly little bookcase; instead, it is filtered throughout the store by subject.

Go ahead, peruse the subject specific sections and you’ll find the how to on that topic next to the masters. It makes sense of course. If a person were in dire need to know how to make the ultimate cookie, he or she wouldn’t begin in self-improvement. Although it is a bit interesting to see a coffee table book on the Renaissance masters propped up next to basic acrylic painting 1-2-3 type manuals. I almost expect to see a paint by numbers replica of the Sistine Chapel to be found inside.

Although the ‘how to’ options in any bookstore are abundant, they are the proverbial tip of the instructional iceberg; simply Google a project or interest and viola, you are given a plethora of sites that will guide you.  Some would say that this golden age of instruction can only be beneficial, but isn’t that a bit presumptuous?

It seems as though we are on a “how to” overload. A fun combination of inspiration and pressure. We are handed ways to better ourselves, both physically and mentally. Where is the learning curve or the agony and joy of having to figure things out on our own? Don’t get me wrong, I have no desire to reinvent the wheel, but does every single life experience need a For Dummies? It just seems that we are so busy collecting these “how to” steps that we, well, don’t.

For fun, you may want to see for yourself some of the more interesting how-to's on Amazon.

A small accomplishment

I have, like, five blogs started. Not a one is finished. I have a lot of unfinished ideas going on lately. I feel as though I am suffering from an odd type of writer’s block. In the past, my blocks have kept me from even starting; it was more a block of ideas than words. Once I got that first line down, I was good to go. However, this time is different: I have a few ideas or at least the beginnings of ideas but nothing else.

So this post is an odd one. I don’t plan on saying much, just something. I need to finish something, even if it’s not a gem.

Maybe you’ve been there. I like to think I’m not alone in this weird purgatory of needing, even wanting to be productive but falling short. It’s a fun little rut of caring enough for it to bother me, but obviously not caring enough to actual do it.

Well, I do believe that the scales have shifted in a positive manner. I may not have finished most of the things I have going, but I at least made this small accomplishment. I am way too proud of me right now.

Unending Joy? Yes, Please.

Tight budgets (personal and professional), papers that need grades, tests and lessons that need creating, AP tests, meetings, curriculum, and on and on it goes, where it stops....JUNE!!!  (Okay, the personal budget actually gets a bit tighter, but hey...). In the midst of stress and things beyond my control, I am blessed to remember that all is good and not just because June is on the horizon.

The world spins wildly out of control, but I've read the Book; I know how it ends; therefore, I can breathe deep and exhale all that negative energy; simply bask in the comfort that my God is in control. Finding rest in that, I realize, should be continuous, but I must be honest. I, in all the melee of life, can forget that little, life-altering, life-affirming fact. Ever-so-gently, however, God is blanketing me in that reassurance.

So today, as people cut you off, bosses breathe down your neck, kids demand all your attention (and perhaps patience), remember that you are a child of the Most High God. Remember that if he knows when a little, itty, bitty sparrow falls, he knows and (more importantly) cares about you, down to the minutia of your day.

And so, in the profound words of a friend: Stay Positive Folks.

Play on...(My Guitar Painting)

Well, I have written about my painting, but I've never actually put one on this little blog of mine....until now (I'm sure you didn't see that one coming). 

Probably a couple of months ago now, I painted a little something for a friend. This friend is a musician, so I began by listening to his songs again and jotting down notes, you know, to somehow incorporate images from his songs into the painting. Turns out this was not useful because though there were a couple lyrical images, trying to put that onto canvas would not have come together right.

Thankfully, after listening to all that music, I was inspired beyond the literal words of the songs. But I still wanted to revolve around music, so I decided to try my hand at a little mixed media. I do not have a picture of the blank canvas because, well, who does that?  But this is the first step I took:

I stamped a bunch of tissue paper and mod podged them all to the canvas.



I forgot to take a picture of just the background color. I used three different shades and tried to blend them out before I began the guitar on top. (This was taken in my apartment at night, please forgive the color a bit).

 

I really got my hands dirty with this one. You know, I really liked it.

Anyway, here is the finished product, after all the fine tuning (no pun intended) and a clear varnish.

This picture was taken outside, in the shade, so the colors are a little more true to life.

Well, there it is "Play On" from start to finish...hope you like it. As for me, this was one of the more satisfying projects I've done. (I was a little sad to see it go, actually).

Make Believe...a musing

In a waiting room, I saw a boy of five or so playing with his dinosaurs – he explains to his dad who each one is and why two are fighting. He explains that, “this one Dad, this one is Manny” (perhaps he is a fan of the melancholy wooly mammoth from Ice Age). The dad, distracted, must have forgotten this tidbit because as the boy was puppeteering a duel between the two enemies, he calls for help from Manny. Manny, however, stays firmly in the grip of Dad, completely oblivious that his ally is in peril.

“Dad, Manny needs to help” brought Dad back to the imagined battle.

The boy’s fervor in his imagined endeavors far outweighed the enthusiasm of his dad, and it was quite clear as to why: Dad was simply moving plastic; whereas, the kid was the dino. This kid is in a jungle, the dinosaurs are in life and death stand-offs. You can just see it in his eyes. He. Is. There. And, though his dad plays along, he is still in a waiting room.

A simple scene that illustrates how, somewhere along the way, we lose our ability to completely engulf ourselves in make believe. Well, most of us anyway. (Some may “make believe” in that they delude themselves about, well, themselves.) This is not to say we do not dream. Dreaming is vital to being a healthy individual, in fact. But as essential as dreaming is, it is not the same kind of magic as make believe, is it?

When do we lose our “make believe,” and where, exactly, does it go?

Who Knew?

I spent most of the day painting, and I have to say, I like this me. This is not to say that I dislike the me who grades, plans, teaches, etc, but I really like the me who writes, paints, takes photos. I get out of my overly analytic head and into the mindset of enjoying the processes.

I am not so delusional as to think that owning a good camera makes me a photographer. But I have captured images and moments that are quite beautiful. Nor does having a blog make me a writer, although having something to say does. Owning a few paintbrushes doesn’t make me an artist; having an idea come to fruition on canvas…well, I’m getting there.

I do not do these things to one day carry a label. (I would be lying, however, if I said I don’t enjoy it when someone compliments something I’ve created.) For quite a while I abstained from doing “creative” things because I was so caught up with the end result. Not being trained, I knew my end product would not be like those photos, paintings, stories that I so admired. Fortunately though, one day I got out of my own way. I picked up a little watercolor kit and had a grand time. My mom came by and saw me hunched over my table, dabbing away at a 3x5 card. She gave me an easel and art supplies at Christmas: I was off.

I now find that even though I can get frustrated with my learning curve, the positives far outweigh any negative. Much like my goal to enjoy life as much as possible, I have learned to enjoy the process of my little creative outlets. Again, I do love when others like what I create, perhaps because so much of me is in the process. Turns out, aside from the whole moral relativity thing, I’m quite the post-modernist.

A bit Ironic

I wrote the following last night as just a purging of thought, and as it turns out, it is ironically poetic. Well, at least as I was rewriting it to digital form, I could feel a rhythm, so I simply broke up the prose structure.

When did I stop writing poetry?

I used to write poetry.
Some of it laughable,
But I wrote it just the same.

I thought in poetry;
I felt in it.
I found solace and passion and expression in it.

I was in love in my poetry.
I swam in heartbreak there too.
I was angst-y.
I was inspired.

I laughed and felt joy;
I cried and felt sorrow--
All in my poetry.
There was a time I lived in my poetry.

Anyway, there it is. The last sentiment doesn’t seem to have the same pattern, but it went along the lines of losing my poetry and not knowing how to get it back. Well, I can let you be the judge of whether or not the above is truly poetic, but I did enjoy writing in stanza for at least a moment.

Until next time, my friends.

The 25 things game...

This is nothing new, although I have avoided it for a few rounds now because, when put on the spot, my brain has a nasty habit of revolting. Darn brain. I suppose that could be a part of the "25 things you don't know about me," right? Oh yeah, that's what this post is, by the way. 

Anyway, as I was getting ready this morning, I was feeling reflective (or incredibly narcissistic - it could go either way), and the list began to formulate.  Later, as I was grading satires at the Corner Bakery, I needed a bit of a break so the list was put to paper.  And really, anyone who has graded high school satire can relate.

Well, this is what I came up with:

1. I wear leaf earrings when I am in an "artsy" mood. (Yes, putting my earring in this morning prompted this).
2. My self-confidence is constantly in flux (and in progress).
3. I want you, yes you, to like me.
4. I am still a little scared of the dark. Stupid, creepy dark.
5. I refuse to own a cat for fear that it is one step closer to becoming THAT woman. *shudder*
6. I get distracted by shiny things and puppies. Mostly puppies.
7. I am a rock star. In my car.
8. My friends inspire me.
9. My family grounds me.
10. It took time, but I like having curves.
11. I am usually oblivious to any interest a guy is showing me. (I do not do well with subtly).
12. I really try to be a good friend - sometimes I fail. If I have failed you, I am truly sorry.
13. I adore a good nap.
14. I love fortune cookies. I have been known to carry a fortune in my wallet at times.
15. I am more forgiving of others than I am of myself.
16. I am dangerously sentimental.
17. I love being girly.
18. I equally love being a tomboy.
19. I really, really want to see a taping of Top Gear (being that it's in London doesn't hurt).
20. I should be grading right now.
21. If I suddenly became wealthy, I'd still teach - I'd just travel more.
22. At 30, I am still waiting to feel like a "grown-up."
23. At 30, I still love Lipsmakers lip gloss (Dr. Pepper and Strawberry). This may contribute to #22.
24. I have been known to frolic. This is in addition to the happy dance that shows up around meal time and small successes (even when playing a game, okay, especially when playing a game).
25. I found this to be quite therapeutic as well as incredibly self-indulgent. I recommend you try it too.

It's not Gold, but it's a Post (aka Good Intentions)

Somewhere between the Sixth Street on-ramp to the 91 and the Harbor off-ramp exiting the 405, I have mentally prepared all the amazing, productive, awe-inspiring projects, grading, planning, cleaning, laundry – you name it- that will be accomplished. My intentions for any given night are good. I have been tempted to even label them as great. It may seem as though I’m over-esteeming them, but if only you could see the game plan to change the world, you would see it is a solid assessment.


Somewhere between my carport and my front door, however, the list is dwindled down to: get on couch, surf internet, waste life, sleep…What happened to those noble intentions? How does a walk up the stairs and the turn of a key suddenly drain any imagined energy I had? Energy to grade stays in my bag with the essays; writing and painting ideas seem to turn off with the ignition.

The last few days, okay weeks, my lack of follow through has been as grand as my intentions, and my frustration with my own lack of discipline/energy is not far behind. I give myself credit for a few very productive grading sessions, but really it was only a teeny fraction of what I had wanted to accomplish.

This isn’t a post seeking advice; I know what to do, theoretically at the very least, I am simply stagnating in the purgatory of knowing what to do and actually doing it. So, why the post? Because I needed to cross something off my to do list that was more than simply doing the dishes.

P.S. Don’t worry, the dishes, they are done.