Give your Idea Context, and People will Get it

"Self-Portrait" 11 x 14 Pastel on paper, textured

Nir Eyal the author of “Hooked” How to Build Habit-forming Products discussed the importance of putting things in context. He tells the story of world-class violinist Joshua Bell who decided to play a free impromptu concert in the Washington D.C. Subway Station.

If you’ve ever bumped into someone and you know you’ve seen them before, but you can’t remember where, this is what Bell was up against. Bell regularly sells out venues in Kennedy Center and Carnegie Hall for $100 per ticket. But in the D.C. subway, he was someone people may or may not have known, and he was playing out of context.

Joshua Bell’s incredible music fell on deaf ears. In the eyes of passersby with a built-in agenda and time constraints to catch a subway, he was no better nor worse than the fiddle players who leave a hat or a violin case on the ground for gratuities of pity or generosity. Almost nobody knew they were walking past one of the most talented musicians in the world.

Eyal excuses the people by saying: “The mind takes shortcuts informed by our surroundings to make quick and sometimes erroneous judgments.”

That’s why when you have something important to say, or you want to make an impact with your product or artwork, put yourself and your image in context. Each painting tells a story. A poor composition will lead people on to another painting, your article won't be read, and your product may not be sold if they are not relevant to participants.

Exposure is good. Many remarkable musicians and artists do free concerts in the park, or show their artwork for a good cause. Tell your story in pictures, in dance, and in words. Tell your audience what you’re going to talk about or do, show them later in action, and then summarize what you’ve shown them or told them about.

Put your life and your words in context. Make it relevant by drawing your viewers (or listeners) into your story and by giving them a reason to get involved. Think of audience interaction as a circle. The venue, the excitement starts with you. The story or the heart of your composition takes people and leads them through your scene. When participants complete their journey, you are waiting for them again to thank them for coming and inviting them to return.

The circle signifies completion. Not all roads lead to Rome as in the past, but the experience will leave a positive impression that may lead to future sales. As Joshua Bell discovered, it’s better to put your work in context (the proper setting) than to take people by surprise in a strange environment.

Of course, if you’re a complete unknown, entertaining people in a receptive corner of your world may be advantageous. Just be sure that your “debut” doesn’t get trumped by too many distractions.

"Baby Elephant" Palm Frond Mask from Queen Palm

The before is below. I was sure I could see a baby elephant in this woody find of nature.

Photographs and Sketches May Refresh Your Last Great Idea!

"The Cook" 11x14 acrylic on canvas

I delight in painting children. There is such a freshness and openness in their faces. No masks to hide emotion. No walls to put distance between them and us. Their innocence invites us to experience life anew as we once did when we were children.

My latest painting took me much longer to complete because of health issues. I didn’t want to clutter the background with details that would take the viewer’s eyes away from the center of interest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of “busy” paintings. I like to spend time wandering through a scene and taking it all in. Restaurants, unusual rooms, people involved in talking or working are some of my favorites.

"Fish Market" acrylic on canvas
(When I did this painting, an artist friend scolded me for putting in too much detail -- I ignored her. The
painting did get in a juried gallery so I was pleased!)

But there are times when the main event can get lost in too much detail. One of my favorite artists is K. Henderson who knows how to use detail to her advantage. She works in oils but also uses watercolor and illustrates a journal that she shares with others.

Kay is a naturalist, artist and photographer. She travels extensively to areas such as Alaska, and as far away as Manitoba, CAN.  Her dialogue and her web site are well worth checking out if you aren’t familiar with her body of work.

Here is a link to her Indian portraits: http://khendersonart2.blogspot.com/  

This painting is another good example of an innocent child surrounded by the detail I love to paint.

"An Open Book" mixed media. Prints available.

I do a lot of photography in making painting and composition decisions. I file them away and review them when I'm looking for a certain detail or subject. Photographs can preserve memory. When you add it to a quick color sketch the scene you captured days or weeks before can quickly come to mind.

(the first slap of paint on canvas)
(I was going to reflect a beater but changed my mind)

 

New Beginnings – A Ring of Hope in the New Year

"Twigs and Twitters" 11x14 oil on canvas

The bells are sounding, balloons are dropping, fireworks are exploding. A chorus of “auld Lang syne” rises on the crisp air. Couples kiss, and a glimmer of hope glazes every eye. Old things are gone, but not forgotten. The New Year is upon us.

Remembered are the things we’ve done that need a “do over.” The mistakes we’ve made that haunt our thoughts. The angry words spoken now hanging heavy on our list of regrets. Perhaps next year will be better, we think. If I just try harder, maybe everything will be all right.

The problem is we can never get better on our own. No matter how hard we try, alone we usually fail. Some people add prayer to the equation which gives them strength. Others need the encouragement of family or friends. Alone, we may cave in or hold a pity party in our honor. We may sink into depression. Together we become strong.

No wonder groups like Alcoholics Anonymous have a buddy system to keep each other on track. They also look to a higher power than their own. There is no shame in depending on others, especially God. There is no dishonor in failing to achieve alone what you desire.

(First lay-down of acrylic paint on 11x14 canvas) Decided to eliminate egg-beaters!

Self esteem is increased when we refuse to give up. It is strengthened when we get back up after we fall and try again. I’m battling my own problems. My eyesight is not as good as it used to be and the monovision contact lenses I wear make it difficult to see perspective and detail accurately even with the aid of glasses. Arthritis in my hands is making it increasingly difficult to paint or draw a straight line. I don’t have the mastery and control I once did.

We all have challenges we need to cope with and problems that arise each day. The New Year’s lighted torch can inspire us with hope as we overcome discouragement. Like Olympic runners who keep their eyes on the goal, we must keep our dreams and hopes in clear focus. If we falter, it’s usually because we take our eyes off the prize. 

When I give my “pep talks” I’m usually the audience I have in mind. Of all people in the world, I need those words of encouragement the most. If my words can help others, too, then I’m pleased. 

I wish you a happy and successful New Year, dear friends. Don’t give up, because I’m counting on you to show me the way!

(Work-in-progress) More layers of paint.

Natural Wonders can Supply a Tapestry of Beauty

"Seedlings from a beechnut tree"

I’m a saver, a scrounger, and a lover of nature. If there’s an unusual seed or leaf out there it ends up in my house.

We were in Phoenix for my grandson’s wedding, when a black twig caught my eye as we were walking. My son thought it was a twig of seeds from a beechnut tree. Although they were black from the cold winter mornings, the pods had dried perfectly, showing a split that revealed the empty seed pockets inside. I brought it back home in my suitcase. It still adorns a table in my living room.

A few months ago, I spied a large palm frond. The leaf is usually trimmed while it's still growing on the tree, and the remaining woody husk continues to grow and harden. The one I found on the ground had already bleached out in the sun and the green had long since disintegrated. 

I took it home and brushed off the dirt and grit, sprayed it with Raid and left it for a few days. After washing it off with water and drying it again, I began my search for the face that was hidden inside. The shape was a little off, but I turned my woody palm into a Florida panther which will one day hang on someone’s wall.

"Florida Panther" for SALE on Etsy" (16 x 21)

Another piece of palm is awaiting its identity. I know from experience that many coats of paint are required to satisfy this thirsty wood. After its features are complete, I will seal both front and back with coats of varnish to give it sheen and a long life.

If I had my “druthers,” I would decorate my home with accessories only from the natural world of nature. One of the most enchanting Christmas trees I've ever seen used a long-needle pine and had only pine cones and bright red velvet bows on its branches. The students who decorated the tree could not afford expensive ornaments or trim and had used what the surrounding terrain had provided. The tree was simple and elegant. The smell from that pine was a gift from Heaven!

One February, when we lived in Phoenix, I dragged home the woody branches of an old Joshua tree that had died in the desert. I loved the way its branches told a story of strength, dignity, and endurance. I placed it in my flower garden by the back fence. When I shared this story with friends, they had to see it.

(Gazebo and butterfly garden completed by the Garden Club for the community)

When I showed them the cactus that I had embellished with pride and an artist’s vision, I saw their faces slump. Their expectations were higher than the reality they saw. “Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder.” We must remember this as we put paint to canvas to reveal our inspiration and imagination. Nothing is ever what it seems to be. We all see things through our own prism of experience.

I’m always saddened by people who rush by and can’t see the color and richness that abounds right under their noses. A car commercial showed the manufacturer's pride and joy racing over the Sahara desert. They wanted you to focus on the car and its tremendous speed and agility. 

As for me, I scanned the rolling hills of sand, the flowing ripples of each dune. What I saw was a masterpiece of serenity, texture and rhythm. The car I barely noticed.

Some people may never give your artwork the nod. They don’t know that you struggled and nursed "your baby" into existence and new life. They may view askance at your efforts to capture a singular shape or a few grains of sand on a canvas; skillfully layering it with values of monochromatic color and harmonious blends. 

We keep painting because that’s who we are. We convince ourselves that the joy of overcoming will one day triumph. But what if it doesn’t? My friend, what better way to spend your time than in pursuit of perfection? The brush grows lighter with use. The joy of creation is mother’s milk to the suckling artist. We indulge. We drink. We become.

(My next acrylic on canvas will be titled: "The Cook" using Amelia as a model)

Delays, Blackouts, and No Internet Connections

"Tickles from God" 24 x 18 acrylic canvas

Yes, I’m “On the Road Again” and my blog is late because sometimes I’m stranded where there is no Wi-Fi or online connections. Family concerns and adorable grandchildren have called me away. I hope you’ll stick with me until I return in a few days.

Before we left, we watched the All-Star baseball game on television between the National and American Leagues. We had to. It was in Minneapolis our long time home and the place where we met. Like fools we searched the bleachers for family and friends, an almost impossible fete. Don’t get me wrong. We love Fort Myers. But in our heart of hearts we’re always searching for home.

Meet another young girl and fellow artist who is always thinking of home. When Akiane was born in 1994 she came “trailing clouds of glory,” as Wordsworth gemmed, “from God who is our home.”

Even at the age of two she spoke of light-filled people, friendly faces, and colorful beauty not seen on this earth. To express her thoughts and feelings to her mother, she painted and drew portraits and landscapes that can be seen on her web site. Those memories which most of us forget at birth, seemed to stay with Akiane.

"First Daffodil" acrylic on canvas

Her portrait of Jesus was selected by another young boy who was featured in the book and movie “Heaven is for Real.” When his parents asked him what Jesus looked like and showed him the familiar pictures that most churches use, he said “No.” every time.

When he saw the painting of Jesus that Akiane had painted clear across the globe, he said: “That’s him. That’s Jesus.”

Was the boy coached? You’ll have to read the book or view the movie to judge for yourself. But as far as Akiane goes, the impossibility of that happening is near impossible. Akiane’s mother was an atheist. She thought her daughter was having dreams or using her big imagination.

Over the years, because of her daughter’s conviction and God-given talents, she became a believer in Christ.

 Currently, Akiane’s work can be seen online and at Mardel. Here is a link to her gallery:  http://www.shangralafamilyfun.com/prodigy.html 

Don't skip the video at the end... it really is a "must see".!  

"Looking Outward" mixed media, real window/glass, acrylic canvas behind

I don't mean to be catty, but . . .

"Playing Dress-Up" 16x20 oil on canvas (acrylic underpainting)

When I was a child, I loved cats. In good weather, I brought home every stray cat within walking distance. My mother was patient and supportive. She placed a litter box in a recessed nook on one side of our big kitchen and indulged my love for cats, at least for awhile. The only rule was: one cat at a time.

I enjoyed cat ownership. I dressed each furry friend in my doll's clothes and pushed it around in my doll buggy. The strays were so hungry for attention and fondling that they never complained, even when made to wear a bonnet tied under the chin.

I lavished each cat with affection, but there was something abhorrent about having a litter box in the kitchen. While I was eating my breakfast, the cat was always doing its business in the litter box. Maybe that's why every winter, without fail, the "cat-in-residence” managed to disappear. Mother would claim it wandered off or got lost, but I began to suspect that each cat I brought home was never going to stay for long.

I can't really blame my mother. We lived in a small upstairs apartment with no utility room and a teeny-tiny bathroom that caused grownups to lean inward with the eaves. The kitchen was the only room wide enough to accommodate the "box;" a name my mother said with disdain.

When I grew up and had a home of my own, a cat was given to our oldest son as first prize in a soap box derby for Cub Scouts. It was a wild little thing that scaled my draperies like Mt. Everest, leaving a trail of claw tracks and snags in its wake. He clawed his way up my sofas, my chairs, my bedspreads, and, as a last straw, up the kid's arms and legs. The product of a feral cat's litter we decided. We never knew for sure. We returned our wild kitty back to the giver of the gift (adequate punishment, don't you agree?).

"Madison Morgan" from "Madison Morgan, when Dogs Blog" by Pam Torres

After that we became dog owners. As the children grew up, we enjoyed several canine lifetimes. It was while we owned a white and tan Shih Tzu named Pooky that a beautiful black cat with white socks came to live with us. My daughter dubbed him Demetrius.

We had no sooner gotten attached to him when we discovered that her younger brother was terribly allergic to cats. “Deme's” fur caused our son's skin to break out in bright red patches, followed by bouts of hay fever and asthma. Needless to say, the cat had to go. I cried like a baby when we had go give him away, but I didn't miss those patty-paw footprints all over my kitchen counter tops; a habit I was never able to break him of, even when I sprayed him with water.

"Winston" 11x14 oil on canvas

Today I admire cats from afar. They're beautiful, they're soft, they're cuddly, and they belong to someone else. A friend's cat brought her a gift in my presence: a tiny gray mouse that he laid at her feet. As I watched the blood trickle out on the floor, I remembered those unsanitary patty-paws on my kitchen cupboards. I determined then and there that I was a dog person, and I've been one ever since. I don't mean to be catty, but...

(Repeat of a blog from 2009)