Make your Voice Heard -- Vote your Conscience!

"Looking Outward" 16x20 acrylic canvas; Old window frame, painting on glass = 3-D experience!

“It’s all about perception.”  This statement has become a political strategy. The meaning is clear: “It doesn’t matter who you are or what you stand for; what matters is what other people think you stand for and how you are perceived.”

In other words, if you can pull the wool over people’s eyes some of the time, you may just fool them into voting for you. After the election, all bets are off!

Unfortunately, this has become the norm in politics making our decisions at the polls more difficult than they have ever been before. Politicians say one thing and do another. There is inconsistency between their behavior and their words; but there’s one little secret they won’t tell you. If you examine their record, you can see exactly how they vote in Congress, what legislation they support and whom they side with. Those are the facts they can’t hide from.

Perception colors our choices and our responses to other people. The words people use to communicate are linked to past experiences. Two people may use the same word, but have an entirely different meaning attached to it. Relationships, environment, and family influence determine how we see the world and how we communicate with each other.

"Sea Swirls" acrylic drawing, work-in-progress (3rd in my Seaside Series)

The best way to illustrate the power of perception is taken from a familiar story by John Maxwell in  Developing the Leader Within You.

“After World War II, a general and his young lieutenant boarded a train in England. The only seats left were across from a beautiful young lady and her grandmother. The general and the lieutenant sat facing the women. As the train pulled out, it went through a long tunnel.

"For about ten seconds, there was total darkness. In the silence of the moment, those on the train heard two things — a kiss and a slap. Everyone on the train had his or her own perception of what happened.

“The young lady thought to herself, I’m flattered that the lieutenant kissed me, but I’m terribly embarrassed that Grandmother hit him!

“The Grandmother thought, I’m aggravated that the young man kissed my granddaughter, but I’m proud she had the courage to retaliate!

“The general sat there, thinking to himself, My lieutenant showed a lot of guts in kissing that girl, but why did she slap me by mistake?

“The lieutenant was the only one on the train who knew what really happened. In that brief moment of darkness, he had the opportunity to kiss a pretty girl and slap his general.”

"Sea Swirls" acrylic on canvas; 2nd work-in-progress (It's all about layering)

Another interesting story comes from http://Sulekha.com (Delhi)

“One day a man opened the garage door, which startled a large butterfly. It flew immediately to its perceived escape, the circle-topped window where it frantically tried to exit through the invisible wall of closed glass.

“The man raised the third-car garage door in hopes of aiding its escape. This caused the butterfly to fly higher and higher and become entangled in a spider web.

“Fearful that it would remain entangled in the web, the man selected a long-handled broom to assist him escaping the tangled threads.

 “At this, the butterfly returned to furiously pumping his wings and banging into the glass, which was, in his perspective, the pathway of escape, but remained his cage.

Success Principle

 “By simply turning his focus to one side, the butterfly would have easily exited his prison. Rather, due to his intent on one direction, he remained confined, captive.

“Every day in our lives we focus on one side of the problem, not looking at it from others points of view. If there is any one secret of success, it lies in the ability to get the other person's point of view and see things from that person's angle as well as from your own.”

This is true in life and in many other endeavors at work or at play. When we create we never know how our work is perceived? People view it from the vantage point of their own experience. What may seem beautiful or interesting to the artist may trigger something entirely different in someone else.

"Sea Breeze" acrylic on 30x24 canvas; First in my Seaside Series

This is why juried competition is often frustrating on many levels. The judges see the canvas from his or her past learning experiences and their personal expertise and vision. The artist creates from his own internal perceptions. Each has a different perspective on what they see. A determination is made, but it is more subjective than objective. 

The best an artist can do is to keep painting from his or her own passion and life experiences until others share the joy and excitement the artist felt at creation.

The Key to Shared Laughter is its Direction

"A Joyful Heart" 11x14 pastel, matted and ready to frame

We all love to laugh. It’s healthy. It feels good. Medical professionals recommend it as “the best medicine” in the world; but that depends entirely on where your laughter is directed and on whom.

None of us likes to be “laughed at.” In fact, most of us cringe and recoil when we’re the brunt of someone else's joke. Poking fun of others is another form of bullying. The difference between healthy laughter and aggressive hee-haws is the purpose behind each.

When we laugh together at the same thing that is shared fun we both enjoy. When I laugh at you and watch you squirm, I’m not only making you uncomfortable, I’m pushing you away. This kind of laughter diminishes both of us. You become a victim. I become a heel.

Sensitivity to someone else’s feelings should warn us when we’ve crossed the line. It’s never too late to realize bad taste, even in ourselves. Shared laughter brings us together and bonds our friendship. At the very least, it makes us feel good to be human beings. Finding humor in life or in the awkward situations we find ourselves in may ease the tension in a difficult situation.

"With these Hands -- Hope" mixed media (acrylic underpainting; oil on center of interest)

Laughter can smooth ruffled feathers and ease the pain of embarrassment. A giggle or two at the appropriate time says “I forgive you. Hey, it could have been me!”

I’ll never forget standing in a movie theater lobby with my husband. Everyone nearby was laughing at this guy who tromped from the restroom into our group trailing toilet paper. The more we laughed, the funnier it became. I was nearly doubled over, and a darned good thing. Looking downward I discovered a few sheets of tissue stuck to my own shoe. If you think we were laughing hard at that point, you should have heard us after this discovery!

A person who can laugh at themselves really has it made. They rarely take their petty grievances out on others. They are everybody’s friend. Joy is written on their face. These are the portraits I want to capture and the main reason I love to paint. My Artist Statement declares:

“Thanks to my grandfather, a biologist and teacher; my uncle, a former professor of entomology at Berkeley; and my father, a fly fisherman of great renown; I was born an environmentalist, a lover of nature and of God’s remarkable handiwork.

"I believe there is spirit, voice, and emotion even in inanimate objects, but especially in living things. I envision each object, each life force speaking out – no, shouting out to me. I try to portray nature as honestly and beautifully as I see it. Sometimes I exaggerate color and movement so others may share what my inner life sees and feels. I have a vivid imagination.

"With these Hands -- Wonder"  mixed media (acrylic underpainting, oils on center of interest)

"Portraits are a favorite of mine. The slightest crinkle in a nose or the twinkle in an eye can tell volume’s about a person’s personality. Faces are complex; as varied as the flowers in springtime, as deep as the roots of a tree or the depth of an ocean. I hope viewers will experience joy when they look at my paintings.”

I started painting in oils, but chose acrylics because there was no smell and you don’t need turpentine. I had a mishap where the mineral spirits ate through the plastic container it was stored in and trickled over the floor soaking my rug before it seeped into my storage area. That was a real turnoff!

But after watching Vladimir Volegov paint in “quick time” on YouTube, I’m having second thoughts about oils. Volegov is a master of color, light, and of blocking in shapes as quickly as possible. Every stroke counts! 

I hope you enjoy the following links: 

Liza and Cat   http://youtu.be/uQCTrSRcplI?list=UU2ZhayntpSMLKJL-weD6oHg

Girl at Rest

Here is another favorite artist: Ritch Gaiti with his ethereal Native American paintings of “another time, another place”:

Fear has Gripped our Nation and History is being Ignored

"And All that Jazz" mixed media in red box frame

The things we once learned from past mistakes are soon forgotten in the clutches of today. The rising generation is not equipped for self-governance nor alerted to the warning signs of impending tyranny. We are inundated with violence in our homes and schools and eager to blame “the other guy,” or guns, or the government when, in fact, as the cartoonist for “Shoe” puts it: “The enemy is us.”

We’ve become a gullible nation intent on harming ourselves. We depend on other people’s advice, knowledge, and strength rather than developing our own. We’re on the cutting edge of science and invention, but on the slippery slope that afflicts every generation after the lessons of the past have been forsaken.

"Lucky Lady" mixed media in red boxed frame

Nero fiddled while Rome burned, and we are just as likely today to perish from the bad choices that are being made for us and around us. Even when people vote their preferences, federal judges are overturning the people’s voice. Our land of laws and Constitutional principles is being rearranged, disassembled, and gradually pushed into chaos.

With Ebola threatening to sweep across the world, and terrorism shaking us to the core at home and abroad, is it any wonder that people are hunkering down; afraid to engage with others, fearful of spending money they don’t have, and not knowing where to turn for help.

"Shimmy Shake" mixed media in black box frame

History tells us that we are not alone. People have weathered all kinds of atrocities, tribulations and persecutions in the past. The key to holding it together is to remember those values and principles which made us strong in the first place; things like honesty, trust and integrity.

There was a time when a “man’s word was his bond” and a handshake was as good as a signed contract? Today lying and double-dealing has become “the thing to do” because “everybody does it!” Our own President has received many Pinocchio’s for deceiving the American people and he's in first chair!

Husbands lie to their wives and visa verse. Children lie to their parents. Bosses lie to their employees, and employees take out their anger by stealing from their bosses. Goods and services cost more because shoplifting is figured into profit margins as is price gouging by “middlemen” who put a thumb on the scale at purchase point.

"Yes, Sir, that's my Baby!" mixed media in grey box frame

Gas prices and transporting of goods is also figured into the cost of food and clothing. But in spite of the gloomy picture there is reason for hope. “The pendulum always swings.” When society gets too far afield, common sense usually pulls us back to calmer times. Swift thinking and logical choices made in the silence of the voting booth may prevail. Let’s hope it does so again before things go so far awry that there's no turning back!

All artwork in this blog may be purchased at Anfinsen Art on Etsy

"Vamp on a Ramp" mixed media in grey box frame

Beyond the Highways and Byways – a Journey of Heart and Soul

"Arabesque" oil on canvas

The above canvas was painted from a pond near my home. The birds were those I see fluttering in and out almost every day; the great egrets and the snowy egrets. Herons come frequently as do anhinga and the little blues (small herons); but I wanted white birds against the dark water.

When someone told me that my work reminded them of the Highwaymen of early Florida, I thought it was a backhanded insult. The Highwaymen were unschooled black people who taught themselves to paint and then sold their wares on the cheap to tourists driving along the roadways and trails.

 For the most part, I was a self-taught artist much like them. Finally, their work has gained the recognition it deserves. According to their web site, “The Florida Highwaymen Artists” were the start of Florida's contemporary art tradition, and are credited for the beginning of the "Indian River School" art movement.

“They developed their own individual techniques and captured waterscapes, back country marshes, and inlets the way they once were before recent tourism developments.

“From the beginning, there were people who collected Florida Highwaymen art and paintings. However only in recent years has the recognition of their skill and their story caused their paintings to skyrocket in value.  In 2004, twenty-six individuals were inducted into the Florida Artists Hall of Fame as "Florida Highwaymen."

To read their names go to this link:  http://www.floridahighwaymenpaintings.com/highwaymen_artists

Artists who work hard for their degrees and accolades often resent the success of those who are less educated than they . The work of self-taught artists as they struggle to improve their skill through error and practice is sometimes looked upon with a critical eye and disdain. Like the highwaymen of the past, these artists may not have the funds or wherewithal for supplies let alone education.

I became acquainted with an African artist who asked if I could purchase some brushes and send them to him. He had been painting on brown paper bags for lack of a canvas. Some use wood from nearby palm trees or they paint on shells or other natural surfaces from their environment.

Painters in Iraq and other war torn countries face the same difficulties. Yet their artwork is vibrant, sometimes shocking, and unquestionably moving. When will we mature enough as artists to recognize that art is communication? It represents who we are, what we feel and what we have experienced.

Art can teach us about other people in a way that words cannot. Whether it’s the beauty we see that we wish to share, or the pain and anguish of a broken world, or the loss of a loved one. 

How we experience art tells us a lot about ourselves. Do we recognize beauty for what it is or does our critical eye keep us from hearing the message? Are we able to see beyond cultural barriers into the soul of another? Do our prejudices produce a wall instead of a door? Do we see the “thorn on the rose” rather than the bloom?

"Window on Pine Island" Oil on wrapped canvas.

The Grass always feels Greener Between your Toes

"Looking Outward" 3-D acrylic on glass window
with canvas behind, dog between.

The days of summer are behind us unless, as my husband says, “You live in the Tropics.” If you’re one of the lucky ones, you’re still enjoying it and walking bravely where others fear to tread. When I first encountered the lizards, snakes and other vermin running across my pathway, I wasn’t sure I wanted to walk barefoot in the grass. I was still plagued by memories of Washington where the morning after a mowing the velvet grass was covered with dew and mammoth snails that came out of hiding. After the sight of them, I never allowed my virgin feet to walk through that grass again! 

Children never think about “What Lurks Beneath.” They run barefoot, tumble and roll in the sweet smelling carpet without a moment’s hesitation. They’re uninhibited. I have to hand it to them. There’s something about walking barefoot on a green lawn or plunging your feet into warm soft sand that brings you closer to the earth and fills your heart with greater appreciation for the simple things of life.

 The people who garden here in Florida are covered from head to toe. Not only are there boots on their feet, but they wear hats, gloves, and long-sleeved shirts even in the heat of summer. You never know what’s going to jump out at you.

 
One of our land stewards at church came running inside after he’d poked his head into a dumpster. A wasp or bee stung him on the nose, and being super allergic, he was in a panic. After dousing his nose in cold water, he took off like a flash for a dose of epinephrine.

My fear of spiders goes way back to a near-death tangle with a brown recluse. I was hospitalized for ten days, had gangrene and serious blood poisoning. It’s no wonder that I’m always looking out of the corner of my eye for anything creepy and crawly.

 
So, you see, while you’re complaining about the cold up north and the impending snow, perhaps my sorry lament has made you feel better. While I’m swatting mosquitoes, you’re enjoying the crisp and colorful fall leaves. I’m sweeping palm frond seeds off my porch for the second time today, but you may be witnessing that first gentle coating of white sparkling snow.

 

It’s all relative of course. The grass is always greener in somebody else’s front yard. If we take time to appreciate the here and now, we’re the better for it. Smell the roses when they’re blooming. Enjoy the crunch of leaves underfoot. Taste the snowflakes while they’re clean and untouched. Enjoy the sunshine – bless the rain. Live your life to the fullest.

"Sea Breeze" acrylic on 2" deep wrap canvas

The War on Football and the Racial Tension it Creates

The pressure is on! Outside forces are coming into Florida and demanding that Florida State University’s football team, The Seminole’s, take off their jerseys and remove their warrior insignia as the team’s logo. They are trying to bully Florida by dragging us back into the racial prejudices of the past inciting tension and conflict in the process.

These self-proclaimed authorities are coming into our communities, neighborhoods, and states telling us what is best for us. We no sooner got them “out of our bedrooms,” but now they’re coming back; pushing their noses under our tents and into our homes.

As a Floridian, I am angry. The Seminole Indians are a part of our history and culture. They contribute to our state’s economy. They are a proud and beautiful people and we are proud to represent them as the warriors they are. 

Today, Floridians are proud to have them as part of the fabric of our lives. Most of our cities, towns, counties, lakes and rivers use Seminole names, as do many of our streets. Sure you can find some who would balk, but I think the majority of people who make up the Seminole Indian Tribe of Florida are proud of their FSU's Seminole team. Why do outsiders come in only to stir up trouble? This is “political correctness” gone amok.

If you want to test this belief, put it on the ballot in Florida. See how many people support Florida State’s Seminole football team as it is currently designated. What right do outsiders have in telling Floridians what they can and cannot do? Who are these liberal police who cross the country and make decisions based on their own ideology and not ours?

"A proud Seminole family in native costume"

If you’d like more information on The Seminole Indian Tribe of Florida, plus a history lesson, here is a link to the Tribe’s online website: http://www.semtribe.com/

From a press release published by the FSU Office of News and Public Affairs:
“On Aug. 21, 1957, the Seminole Tribe of FL was established through a majority vote of Florida’s Seminole Indians. This vote gave the Seminoles federal recognition as a self-governing tribe with a constitutional form of government. The Seminole Tribe of FL now has almost 3,000 members living on five reservations across the peninsula at Hollywood, Big Cypress, Brighton, Immokalee and Tampa.

“The Seminoles work hard to be economically independent. Tourism and gaming profits pay for infrastructure and schools while citrus groves, cattle agriculture, aircraft production, tobacco sales, land leases and aquaculture are other significant sources of revenue.

“Having persevered through two centuries of adversity the Seminole Indians of Florida have earned the right to call themselves “the unconquered people.” Their indomitable spirit is one that Florida State University proudly seeks to emulate in all of its endeavors.

"Seminole Artwork"

"more Seminole designs"

“Today, the Seminole Indian Tribe participates in many campus activities. Florida State University is proud of its longstanding cooperative relationship with the Seminole Tribe of Florida. The Seminole people have suffered many hardships and injustices, but they have remained brave, dignified and proud. The Seminoles are unconquered. They symbolize what we hope will be the traits of all of our graduates, including our student athletes.”

"Seminole Football"

So far this Season the FSU Seminole’s remain undefeated. They proudly wear their Seminole jerseys in spite of the outside threats from the few.

 

It is time for all American citizens to stand up to the nonsense of allowing other people (unelected and self-appointed) to decide what’s best for individual states and communities

(work-in-progress:  "Sea Swirls" the last in my Sea Series

Cyber-rattling – the Skeletal Remains of Abandoned Blogs

Every now and then, I like to repeat a blog from the past when I think it's relevant. Reading a blog with a catchy title like "Stop Doing Art" made me think of it.

The creators are burned by the glut of artists and wanna-be-artists who "clutter" the airways with too much art and most of it bad. I don't know what they've been sniffing, but their arrogance is off-putting to say the least. What I'm seeing is the replacement of good art with photography and digital art. Yes, they are art, too. And I agree that they require skill, but there's just something about the smell of paint and canvas that that can't be duplicated through any other media. So here goes:

"Namesake" acryllic on canvas

We’re all eager to start them. We want our own public space in the sun to share our personal trivia or our hopes and dreams. Millions of blogs attest to that fact. But what happens when the enthusiasm fades, a blogger moves to another space, or just leaves his or her audience hanging as weeks turn into months and months into years?

You end up with clogged search engines and the skeletal remains of countless blogs hanging in the pathways of cyberspace. I was amazed as I searched for viable art blogs how many of them have not been updated in months; some for more than three to five years!

Amongst the casualties were new mother blogs, created by first time mothers who wanted to share the miracle of birth and their amazing adventure into motherhood. Others wanted to share a wonderful vacation with humorous stories and full-color photos. But when the vacation excitement fizzled, and the dazzle of motherhood wore off, so did the blog.

"Tickles from God" acrylic on canvas

Many blogs are started with good intentions, but they fail miserably when the blogger realizes there is no substance. There are no long-term goals. There was a beginning, but no ending. The blogger had no vision for the purpose of his or her blog or the discipline to finish it.

Clanking around in this wasteland, I still found some good information, an interesting fact or two; but it required an investment of time to find that juicy fruit, that bright star among the scattered bones of defeat. Some bloggers move frequently from space to space, leaving their old blogs behind like bread crumbs to lead their followers back home. Some links failed, leading me on a wild goose chase.

With all the apps and gizmos out there, I sometimes have difficulty uploading my own updates, especially in the evening hours. The large sites like Facebook and Twitter become unpredictable and double tweets or failed tweets happen on occasion.

Abandoned bytes and cyber debris join other waste materials in the heavens. Our Satellite Station over the years has dropped scraps and junk that still circle the globe endlessly polluting the atmosphere. Our oceans are filled with garbage and the ghostly remains of plastic bags. Japan’s Tsunami debris floats around the globe, butting up against foreign shores and introducing them to alien species.

Our “throw away” society continues to add to our mountain of debt and our growing landfill piles. Wouldn’t it be great if someone would find a way to clean up this wasted space or manufacture things that would last? If our economy is so bad, why do so many people throw thousands of pounds of food in the trash each year? Solutions not rhetoric is what we need. Suggestions anyone?

"Beach Buddies" mixed media on canvas

All Carol's artwork can be found at Anfinsen Arts Alive