The Unbroken Wild West Still Invites Exploration and Adventure

I grew up in what is sometimes called “The Wild West.” We went camping and traveling throughout Colorado, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, Washington and Oregon. Parts of the West are still as they were when Lewis and Clark and the early pioneers traveled for the first time over this rugged terrain.

In our travels, one of my favorite places was Taos / Pueblo, New Mexico. I still have a turquoise necklace I purchased from a Native American artist for $50. I fell in love with the artist community and the prolific galleries that dotted the streets. My dream was to return to live and work there. But you know how that goes.

According to a travel guide: “Taos is art. Art is everywhere: on the walls, in the streets, in the landscape and architecture. There are more than 80 galleries, museums, two major art festivals, several film fests, a Poets and Story Tellers festival, and four music fests.”

The grandeur of the mountains invites tourists and artists in summer and fall, and skiers in winter. The history of Taos is replete with Native American lore, an actual Pueblo village, and details about famous artists such as Georgia O’Keefe, Ansel Adams, D.H. Lawrence, John Marin, Andrew Dasburg and many others.

The broad sweep of rugged hills and jagged mountains provides year round recreation that has increased both the size and scope of Taos along with a rise in the cost of living. But a visit is well worth the experience.

When the word “wild” comes to your mind what does your imagination conjure up? The word itself makes me think “feral, uncontrollable;” not a good thing if you’re trying to harness your skill to describe in words or artwork what you see. 

Writers and artists must think in images. If you can’t visualize your subject matter, you can’t describe it or illustrate it.

Wild is one of the reasons people throng to Taos. Uninhabitable spacious vistas go on and on for what seems like forever. The color, the fusion of value and space is intoxicating.

I have a love affair with deserts. Teeming with life and color in the springtime and then withering to prickly dry sagebrush and cactus through the scorching heat of summer. Tumbleweeds blow across the roadways and line fences with woody entwined growth. They roam across the desert orchestrated by the wind in a primordial gracefulness; rolling and tumbling, following least resistance.

Taos gets under your skin. The brilliant sunsets, Native American colors and sounds, the howl of a wolf or coyote, the fresh air caressing your skin, filling your lungs. Prickly cacti needle you into submission. The stalwart saguaro look almost human in the evening shadows.

This lovely verse from the Poet Society’s Jillena Rose describes it well:

Taos
by Jillena Rose

Bones are easier to find than flowers
in the desert, so I paint these:
Fine white skulls of cows and horses.

When I lie flat under the stars
in the back of the car, coyotes howling
in the scrub pines, easy to feel how those bones
are much like mine: Here is my pelvis,
like the pelvis I found today
bleached by the sun and the sand. Same
hole where the hip would go, same

white curve of bone beneath my flesh
same cradle of life, silent and still in me.

(Poem copyright ©2011 Jillena Rose all rights reserved)

The Faces of Humanity -- the Richness of Spirit

(This photograph will be the basis for my next painting)

I have an obsession with faces. They tell so much about a person, and yet so little. Worry lines may soon turn into laugh lines when the heart is merry. Eyes glisten in the presence of a loved one or a good friend. Tears may signify joy or sadness; the face reflects the nuance and the feelings that others seek to interpret.

As we age, faces become more like maps to the past. How we have lived, what we have experienced is often reflected in the way we hold our mouth or in the downcast look in our eyes. Creases may symbolize chronic illness and pain or a hardworking existence in the great outdoors.

"A Joyful Heart" 9x12 pastel on Bristol; Matted and ready to frame (11x14).

As poets have said for hundreds of years “the eyes are the windows to the soul.” We like to think that we can see into someone else’s life through their eyes, but we’re only guessing. Ted Bundy, a serial killer, had very seductive eyes; but I doubt his victims saw into his soul. If they had, they would have fled in terror.

Still, eyes can tell us about emotion. My next portrait is of a young Indian mother and her two children (1st photo) as they observe something with reverential eyes. Are they worshipping? Do they see someone they revere or are they only hoping for something better to come into their lives?

Their faces captured my attention and I needed to paint them. This is an actual photograph taken by some friends in India. I see longing in the eyes of this family, and at the same time awe. Perhaps you’ll see and feel something altogether different; but if I paint them with my interpretation, perhaps you’ll see them the way that I do.

This is the delight of the creative life. An artist has a deep felt need to express what he or she sees and feels. Sometimes it is a negative message to convey an opinion or make a statement. At other times it is a heartfelt desire to share a joyful picture representing the goodness and the common bond of humanity.

(I have applied the drawing to a 24x18 white canvas)

Faces are like sculpture. Their form and definition, their shapes and lines are beautiful unto themselves. I enjoy painting people of color. The richness of skin tones and the variant shades are remarkable and a challenge to capture. Facial features are bolder, more pronounced, and they fit together perfectly, beautifully into a whole.

I’ve had some difficulty seeing lately so this new painting will be a challenge. I have mono-vision lenses that make it difficult to see depth; one eye is for close-ups and the other for distance. Luckily, when I hold a drawing or a painting up to the mirror, my flaws are usually revealed to me.

(Work in Progress: First layers of acrylic paint on the figures. I will change and altar what doesn't look right.)

I’m disheartened by the recent outburst of hate and racism in this country. While I see beauty in diversity many others focus on differences and see danger. Yet one God made us all and loves us equally. In that light, how then can we not reach out to others in friendship and tolerance?

"With these hands -- Hope" 16x20 canvas; oil on acrylic background.

Light Reveals Truth, Darkness Provides a Contrast

"Hibiscus Glory" 16x20 mixed media SOLD; prints available

I was intrigued by a recent study about people’s fears. It was done broadly (worldwide) to see if there were any differences in race or culture. The conclusion was that what people fear most, no matter who they are or where they come from, is darkness.

I wondered if fear was a part of us at birth or if it’s simply human nature to fear what we do not understand or that which is unknown? For whatever reason, the study concluded that most people, most children all around the world fear darkness.

As a Christian, this set my spiritual wheels turning. Scripture declares that every person “that comes into the world” is born with the light of Christ in his heart. (John 1:9 KJV) It would only make sense then that coming from our creator God “trailing clouds of glory,” as Wordsworth put it, we would be afraid of the dark which has always represented evil.

Believers hunger and thirst for light in much the same way that all living things reach for the light. A seedling pushes through the dark earth in search of the life-giving light of the sun that will nourish it and feed it as it grows. Even the lowest of animal forms seeks out light for warmth. On any given morning in Florida, my sidewalk is filled with lizards that crawl out of their dark havens to warm themselves in the light.

Snakes slither from their dark holes in much the same way. They become intoxicated and lethargic as they drink in the warmth of the sun seemingly blinded by the brightness. You can walk right by them and they barely notice.

Darkness is often used as a reference to evil, and good is portrayed as light. Darkness can also be seductive and intriguing. It is more difficult to ignore sin and temptation in the darkness. We are deceived into thinking that darkness somehow hides or “covers” our sin.

Light reveals and exposes truth and evil. No wonder we run from the light when we feel guilty or “bad.” No wonder people, especially children, fear darkness because it leads us into the unknown and may cause us to do bad things.

Darkness also has its own beauty: a starlit sky, the moon glowing through wisps of clouds, the skylights of a city sprinkled across the landscape. Darkness provides contrast. In a painting it’s all about light. The tiniest glow of light against a dark canvas looks even brighter. If the whole composition were light, the objects would appear flat and uninteresting. It is the contrast in color and intensity that gives a painting life.

How an artist handles the play between light and darkness, shadow and changes in value tells you a lot about his or her style. Some creatives like subtle changes and soft values. Others passionately splash color boldly and provide luminous eye-popping light that defines shape and creates depth. In this way darkness can define space and provide a backdrop for light making it glow with luminescence. 

The subject of the composition and its treatment determines whether evil is present or perceived. The color red may also indicate evil if the images are coarse and vulgar. A red rose may also appear holy and beautiful if the petals are delicate and soft. Treatment has as much to do with how evil is perceived as darkness itself.

Study the Masters and see how they contrast light against darkness. Analyze your own reaction to it to see if the painting registers somber, illuminating, inspiring or degrading. Your response indicates the power of darkness to reveal the essence of goodness or of light.

Your "Stuff and Nonsense" may turn into a Firebrand

"Fish Market" mixed media on canvas (acrylic underpainting; oil on main images)

I have a file on my computer called “Stuff” where I put down ideas for blogs and articles. I get a one-word idea, and then ramble on with it to see if it has substance. Some of my one or two word ideas really take off; others fizzle out after one or two sentences.

When that happens, I do some research on the subject to see what turns up. If I’m lucky (or blessed), I find a plethora of information. If there’s nothing, or the word has a negative connotation, I go back to square one.

One such word was “firebrand.” I loved the sound of it rolling off my tongue. I had a few ideas on which direction I could take it, but then I actually looked the word up:

Firebrand, “One that creates unrest or strife; urges crowds to riot (I certainly didn’t want that!); progressively promotes a cause – an agitator.” I didn’t like that definition either.

But the more I thought about it, I decided that was exactly the word I wanted to write about. I liked this description: “One that creates unrest or strife.” Artwork is supposed to cause people to think, to push them to analyze and to cause unrest or strife within. Fine art is supposed to change us in some way, either to shake us up and help us see another point of view or to inspire us and motivate us.

"Hey, Coconut, Mon!" mixed media on canvas (acrylic underpainting; oil on main images)

Most people think of art as beauty. I was sitting in a relative’s living room this weekend (relaxing after a wedding celebration and the reason for my late blog!) admiring a painting on the wall. Actually, the watercolor was very bland. The background was tinged light ochre, beige and tan. A dark brown tree spread its naked branches against the yellow cast sky.

I realized that I’m a firebrand kind of person. I want to make a statement. My paintings don’t blend in or stay in the background, they are more conversation pieces. They either draw you or repel you, depending on your point of view. I have difficulty painting fluffy pretty scenes. I’ve had to master this technique and by the time the canvas is finished, I’m eager to move on

.

We each have our own style, but there’s one thing that we must all agree upon: without passion and conviction, the final work may look and feel like a puddle of paint. 

The word firebrand also describes the hot iron that burns rancher’s initials on his or her cattle. Artists must create their own firebrand that becomes recognizable; a signature that is unique and represents not only the artist’s name, but a clue as to his or her style. 

"Early Christian logo created from the
Greek word for fish"

I wish I’d created something more unique than just my first initial and last name. I’ve seen some very clever logos that are remembered and admired. If you’re just starting out, I recommend creating something different. Make it simple. Make it memorable. Then when your fans see something of yours, they’ll recognize it in an instant.

(I just threw this one in for fun!)

Use your “firebrand” to create unrest, strife, or simply a tranquil experience that people will buy and treasure for many years to come.

Those Inevitable Signs of Aging: Cellulite, Age Spots, and Wrinkles!

"Emma" a drawing I did for her 93rd birthday

The ugly truth is out! Unless you have a bank account like Jane Fonda or Cher, eventually you’re going to fade, rumple and sag. The time will come when you can’t hide your age behind a Mu Mu or a Caftan. Bye and bye gravity takes its toll.

The idea for this article came to me while I was ironing. It’s a chore I hate and one I do as little of as possible; but, hey, the fashions of spring and summer seem to require a good press in spite of the “no fuss” labels.

If there's any compensation for pressing out those wrinkles, it has to be the upper arm exercise required to push my outdated steel steam iron across my tottering ironing board. They’re both almost as old as I am.

"A Joyful Heart" 9 x 12 pastel drawing

When elephants get wrinkled and leathery it’s quite fashionable. Their tough skinned outer wrapping protects them from assault and predators. Unlike human beings, the oldest elephants in the herd are given respect and power. They’re not ignored or put out to pasture just because their old.

Older people are difficult to draw or paint. Some artists use lines for wrinkles which makes them harsher and more unattractive than they need to be. Shading will produce a more subtle result. By highlighting the highest skin areas on either side of the shading, you get a softer wrinkle.

"Pansy's Pride" 9 x 12 pastel drawing

My husband and I recently had our photograph taken. The photographer asked us if we’d like a “touch up.”

“How much?” I asked him.

“$60,” he quipped; “but it will remove spots, wrinkles, and even the sag under your chin.

Humph, I thought to myself. The proofs looked pretty good to me. 

“I want my children and grandchildren to recognize me,” I said as I added a disgusted “No, thanks!”

Why are we so afraid of aging? Why do we treat our seniors and middle-aged population as if they were no longer worthy? No longer capable of holding a job?  

We should equate aging with wisdom. Knowledge and experience are nothing to sneeze at.

I’m saddened by our youth obsessed culture. The young and the beautiful seem to live from one high to the next either drug induced or through exaggerated self adulation. The newspapers record their escapades and their fall as if none of it really matters, but it does.

We only have one life to live. I for one am trying to make the most of it – wrinkles, sags and all!

(My sweetie and I "warts and all!)

Beauty Is in the Eye; Impressions from the Heart

"Victims of War" mixed media on canvas; in juried show re political angst

We've heard it all of our lives--"beauty is in the eye of the beholder." This was never more true than when I discovered a petrified cactus on the desert floor in Phoenix, Arizona where I lived for several years.

In the winter I liked to take long walks in the desert. If you've never done it in January and February, you're missing an incredible sight. During the milder temperatures of winter, the desert cacti and plants come to life. The sandy terrain sprouts into a thick carpet of grassy clover and turns the normally drab browns into radiant greens. The cacti begin blooming, dotting the burgeoning scene with splashes of pinks, yellows, reds, and blues. An incredible sight!

"Whimsical Drawing of a new Series
called: "The Neptunes"

In the midst of this color, a dead cactus, brown and forlorn, caught my eye. It's arms were arranged in graceful twists and turns as beautiful as any marble sculpture I could imagine. "God's handiwork," I quipped. and decided to bring the orphaned cactus home to grace my flower garden.

I mentioned my unusual sculpture to friends, family, and neighbors. I must have described my find in such detail and with such embellishment that soon I had visitors to see my heavenly sculpture. I chuckle now, as I remember their disappointment in this dried up piece of wood that once was an elegant cactus. To me it was still beautiful, but to those who saw it through a prism of their own experience, it was a disappointment.

I get that same reaction with some of my favorite paintings, especially the ones that I cherish because of the blood, sweat, and tears, that went into them. Those are the paintings that sometimes draw this reaction: "Eh!," a shrug, and they walk away. Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder.

"Drawing is painted in with Burnt Sienna; This panel is called: "The Trumpeteers"

My grandfather cut his thumb off long before I was born. He tangled with a paper cutter during his years as a school teacher. Although he showed his granddaughters the scar where his thumb once was, and warned us about the dangers of paper cutters and knives, we never looked on it as a disability. It was simply Grandpa. The lack of a thumb made him unique and adoring. Whether he had a thumb or not didn't make one whit of difference. To us he was perfect as he was. 

Artists frequently fret about whether their work is acceptable; compliant with the constraints of acceptable color and composition. And yet, those artists who achieve recognition and acclaim are the ones who dare to cross the line; the ones who boldly walk into the cutting edge limelight through experimentation and creativity.

"Work in Progress:  "The Neptunes -- Trumpeteers" 11 x 14 acrylic on panel

I've had the same paintings rejected by a jury at one show and then go on to win first or second prize in another. How we look at something is personal, subjective, and fleeting. The mood of the judges and the way they view your art on any given day may change. Don't take it to heart. Listen to their comments and weigh it against what you know and were trying to achieve. Don't be deterred by others. An artist must express his own inner vision, even if that means standing apart and standing alone. 

Take a deep breath and dare to be different. Some people will love your work, others will criticize it. Beautify is indeed subjective; enjoy the moment, create while you can!

"Kindred Spirits" was rejected at one juried show and won 2nd prize at another! 24 x 30 acrylic on canvas

Seeing is believing and not seeing is Foolishness

It’s been two years since I had my eyes checked. I sometimes think the reason I like to paint with bright colors is because my eyesight is growing dim. The beginnings of cataracts are clouding my eyes, and my invisible bifocals slip down on my nose while I paint. Getting old is not as fun as some people make it out to be.

You’re only as young as you feel, people like to say. But what happens when you’re not feeling as young as you used to feel? Ah, now there’s the rub.

"Blending In" Acrylic on canvas

I was overjoyed to find that my eyes are relatively in good health, and I don’t need to see the doctor for one year. All my fretting was for nothing. My husband, on the other hand, is having to redo his cataract surgery in a few weeks. In this light, I couldn’t help but think of all the expressions we use every day pertaining to sight.

We say someone is “looking beyond the mark” when they worry too much about the future and not enough about the present.

We say someone is “short-sighted” when they fail to plan ahead.

Wisdom is often compared with sight, as in understanding. When we gain understanding, we can see truth clearly.

Most art instructors agree that what they really teach their art students to do is how to see. Being able to focus and see what is rather than what we think is there is a matter of re-training your eyes to ignore your brain’s perceptions.

"Pelican Pointe" 8 x 10 acrylic on canvas. Recently SOLD 20 x 24 Print on FAA

The brain has a tendency to fill in missing pieces for us, much the same way a computer is programmed to finish or fix a misspelled word. It has been proven that we can read a sentence of consonants without the vowels because our brain fills in the missing letters.

Truth is a lot like that. We must learn to examine what is actually there, but also call into play our sixth sense or gut instinct. Sometimes we know something is true and we ignore it. 

Why do we ignore truth: because of preconceptions that have been taught to us
by our parents or teachers and because of ingrained habits or traditions. 

Thinking clearly for ourselves requires searching, learning, studying, and something many people call “heart” knowledge; another term for gut instinct.

Seeing with an artist’s eye requires focus, study, and practice. Gaining an understanding of how things are made and how they work together helps to define form, shape, and movement.

Learning to see what is instead of what might be or could be is how professional skill is developed. Innate talent helps, but the knowledge is out there for all of us to use and better ourselves.

"Brown Thrasher" 16 x 20 acrylic on panel in decorative barn wood frame