Blog

My art process. Military Life. My Cause.

I AM SORRY

Thursday night, Friday afternoon and evening, and most of the day on Saturday, I was on site. I stood near The Weight Of Time with my artist tag. I greeted people. I tried to strike a balance between letting them experience the piece and sharing my story behind the piece. There were viewers from all walks of life. Other artists. People that claimed to know nothing about art. Young and old. Groups, couples, and loners. People that had a lot to say and people that avoided conversation. I had one guy refuse to hear because he didn't want my story to "mess up his impression of the piece." Overall, most were friendly and kind people, who were happy to meet the artist and hear this Army wife's story. I had those who teared up. Who shared how my story related to their experience. I got hugs and thank yous, but I also got many "Thank your husband," and "When is he getting out?" and "Is he home?" And I realized they didn't quite get what I was trying to say. The hardest comments were "I hope he makes it home", but the one that still has me thinking is "I am sorry you miss him so much."

It was heartfelt. A sorry you hurt kinda sentiment, but it struck a chord in me. I didn't really respond because it was in passing, but I want to address this now. I AM NOT SORRY I MISS HIM. Missing takes courage. Staying connected takes risk. There is this sense that "it should get easier", but in reality as you continue to build a life TOGETHER, there is more to miss. There are deeper bonds- but isn't that what marriage is about? Having a life that is influenced by the other. Where you consider them. Staying connected is a must. We have said if it ever gets to the point where we are looking forward to the separation then we need to take a look at why.

So what I am not saying? I’m not saying I have no life or ambition outside of him. I have my personal goals but I do my best to invite him in. That is why he has learned to appreciate art.. That is why I have read books about the army and have learned the army language of acronyms (even though translation is still necessary at times). I am an artist. I have friends that get a lot more attention when he is away.....girls nights in, or out. A bit of travel with my kids. I realized that I can't wait to do everything I want to do until he is home because that would mean I was just biding time while he was away. So we live life. We enjoy where we are. He is happy for the good things I get to experience when he is gone. I celebrate his successful missions and I am happy for good training opportunities. When we are back together, we squeeze the most out of our time. We travel. We have lazy Saturdays. We spend time connecting with others.

I want those who read and see my story to know, yes, it is sad. But more than that, there is a beauty that is being forged. There is a beauty being forged in me as I learn how to navigate this hard, but good process of releasing the one I love to live out what he was made to do. In turn, I discover I was made to stay and how staying takes a different courage but courage nonetheless. The courage to stick with it through many unknowns and uncertainties. The courage to be over your head and accept help. This is my new definition of ARMY STRONG: meaningful connection at home and away that creates strong family bonds within families and with other families.

We will still need help and encouragement. Individual families will not be able to handle all the military asks of them, alone. But let's not just "handle it." Let's thrive as we embrace the risk of true relationship. Let’s be honest and receive help, and give it too. Let’s not be sorry to do what we were made to do. Let’s embrace the beautiful messy lives that we and others live, even when it is uncomfortable. That’s real strength.

Video Artist Statement below

Vote code 63358

To Vote for This Piece for all who are in the Grand Rapids area.

Click on http://www.artprize.org/63358

Those who are supporting me from afar please share this post! Thanks!

In the Middle.

The Middle is before you know how the end turns out. I think the middle is why I used to shy away from sharing the process. When I first was getting to know my husband, his request was always to see pictures. Pictures of what I was making. Unfinished work. He wanted, and still wants, to see the in-process shots of my artwork. He supports and reassures me when seeing the “middle” shots because to him, it adds to the richness of experiencing the finished pieces.

Back then I was not on Instagram....When I worked on pieces in the past I had a short list of people I would share my progress with. When I say short- I mean 3 or 4. And I did not have the virtual community that I do now, seeing these various creative hashtag challenges. That is actually part of how I eased back into making things more consistently. It was the #300creativedays that I participated in, and did not complete....I did not count all the creative things I did in 2015, but I did spend more days creating in that year than the previous. And I started to embrace the idea that drawing coloring pages for my kids did "count" as creative. All the little moments added up to make me ready for 2016 and the challenge of creating a public work. "The Weight of Time." For ArtPrize. It prepared me to share that being consistent in pursuing your passions/dreams/goals is not easy....creative or otherwise. Roadblocks do come, in various forms. Busyness. Stress. Fear. Failure. There are also dry seasons. The dry seasons that I am referring to are those times when the other higher priorities in my life need my attention and the amount of time that I can devote to my artpassion/dreams/goals must be viewed through that lens. Determining what’s really happening can sometimes be hard.

Sharing my story here is a bit scary at times. But it is more helpful than hiding my story because when I hide, I start to think I am alone in my struggles. There are times when people are disappointed in how my work changes....and that is something I have to accept. I have to accept that inviting you into my studio, invites you into my mess. The mess of deferred motivation. Even the mess of occasionally losing perspective on why I make stuff.

Currently I am in a middle, I am on my way to Michigan. I am on my way to hang the piece. This morning I woke up earlier than I should have, but my body was ready. In preparation mode. Thankfully my mother-in-law was sleeping on the couch and the rest of my people were asleep too, so I headed to my studio.

I haven't been out there much lately. When there is a gap in time, the distance to getting back seems even greater. Momentum has slowed and it takes more time, it feels more like starting over rather than picking up where I left off.
Of course there are reasons I haven’t gotten out there a lot, but the underlying reason is stress. Change. New. Good new things, but still new. There are new routines with school starting. And decisions to think through.

It is crazy how hiding can look different. Sometimes I hide from the mess of life by going out to the studio to refresh, but the truth is this month doing dishes has seemed easier than facing this middle.

We all are in the middle of our stories. This middle seems to have dark clouds. Is this endeavor going to be worth it? Worth the risk? Worth the sacrifice?

My husband has already answered my questions with a "yes!" I’m thankful for his support. Now I have to search to own the yes for myself… “The Weight of Time” …Was it worth it? Yes. It has already helped me. Helped me to process deployment. Helped me to know my soldier better. Helped me to share my process. Creating this piece has had tangible benefits. But it was also weighty. I have even had a couple bad dreams about it being damaged. In the dream I had to redo two of the canvases. It was all mixed up. THANKFULLY IT WAS JUST A DREAM.

Not only am I in the middle of the outcome of Artprize, I am in the middle of that preparation to say "see you soon" again. This is the phrase we should say....with hope that it is not goodbye.

Middle. Not able to see the end of the story. The beginning and the end of a thing has its own unique challenges. I am happy that even after some personal setbacks, I went back out to the studio. It felt like I was getting back up after being shoved down by my own disappointments. I am continuing to discover how to do business as an artist. I am thankful that mistakes and missteps are not the end, but actually part of the journey. So I keep moving forward.

If you would have told me last September that I would be headed to Michigan with a crew of people ready to help me hang my ArtPrize entry, I don't think I would have believed you. I couldn’t see that far. When I first imagined the size of this piece, it felt unattainable or at best, very far off. My last significant show had been in spring of 2010. Between now and then, there have been a lot of "middles", and we have navigated through as a family. Perspective is essential when we are in the middle, because what happens in the middle matters, maybe the most.

Sunrise seems like a reward for being awake.

Bare Bones

When I was in college I went to Lowe's a lot. I learned to build my own canvases. I learned what made good bones for my paintings. I learned the hard way, by using Pine instead of Douglas fir because it was cheaper. Sadly the Pine warped. Once I graduated I continued to use a friend's wood shop and we improved on the design of the way we built the canvases. I experimented with buying linen, not just cotton canvas.

For me the size and shape inspires how I approach a piece. In 2008 I had an idea for my 62 foot wall installation at PFAC that required some custom size canvases, but I no longer had access to a wood shop. I am thankful I found a company that has a great product, Upper Canada Stretchers. My first custom order was for 9, 6'x1' canvases. My brother and I assembled and stretched them...it was easy and enjoyable. I love their product. Those canvases I did nearly 9 years ago are still doing great.

18, 8'X6" canvases being gessoed with black gesso.

Earlier this year when I was ordering 18 canvases for "The Weight of Time", I did something I had never done before, I paid the extra money to get them assembled and stretched. I was fully pleased...the corners and backs are just as lovely as the front. This saved me days of labor!
The canvases for my new piece were just delivered as well.

My studio welcomed me home and the ideas are so loud that there seems to be a buzzing. There's an excitement of having many canvases all in different stages of the process.

The Weight of time waiting to be delivered.

Panels with pops of color and lots of cold wax.

Two 20"x60" with a red-orange base coat.

"Big Star Lake" commission on my easel with a couple coats of gesso.

Small Works Shop pieces hanging on my wall.

Available on Small Works Shop page for $105 including shipping.

Twelve 9"x36"s waiting for the black gesso.

Three 24"x24" edges painted just needing wires so I can hang them.

I am happy to be getting my hands dirty in the studio again.

I am thrilled and nervous about all the beautiful unknowns. The process of creating is messy for me. It is about showing up. Pressing in. Even when I have those days where nothing goes right, it is about never giving up. There is hope no matter how awful the progress feels that day. I keep doing new things. Even when I am not sure how it will turn out. I am also embracing these things beyond the studio these days, with upcoming contests and hanging my work various places. The risks seem to get harder the more public they are, but I am holding onto my truth that "it will be worth it." Not because the outcome is guaranteed, but because it is just the next step at the moment. These are the steps I must take to move forward. It has been 5 years since I have really shared my work outside of my personal network. So here we go....
next month my work will be seen by many people I have never met....
voted on or not...
judged by jurors.....
advanced to final 20 or not.

The piece is done. I must rest in the fact that I cannot control if people are moved. I cannot predict the effectiveness of the story. It feels murky even though I know that I poured myself and my story into this piece (I think it is suppose to be that way.) The feeling of vulnerability cannot be avoided when you share your true self.

Saying Goodbye and Hello

Our trip north was A LOT more productive than I imagined it would be. I sold "Unpredictable Hopes", "A-Three", and "Urban Sniper", and I have a new commission that will be called "Big Star Lake."

Unpredictable Hopes4'x6' Oil on Canvas — Unpredictable Hopes
4'x6' Oil on Canvas

A-Three2'x4'Oil on Canvas — A-Three
2'x4'Oil on Canvas

Urban Sniper1'x6' Oil on Canvas — Urban Sniper
1'x6' Oil on Canvas

Often times I get asked, "Is it hard to sell your work?" Yes and no. Yes, I get attached to it. Yes, I pour my heart into it. It is part of me in a way. But no, because the thought of other people enjoying my work thrills me. It also makes room for new work. I see the “good” in this GOODBYE and I rejoice in it. Some of my favorite pieces now have NEW homes!

The new blank canvases are inviting friends for me. The possibilities are endless. What color scheme do I want to explore now? What size? What is the most pressing among my ideas? What's most interesting to me? Do I want a change of pace? Or do I want to make something similar to my last piece?

Working in series is a great way to grow. By series, I mean there is some unifying thought that you keep coming back to in different ways. The longest series I have ever done is my Journey series, which ended up having subgroups. Now I have been working on these Military themed pieces over the last two years. This series is not done, but I am taking a bit of a pause to refresh.

I have had some productive days in the studio that have been all about color and texture. I have been exploring cold wax mixed with oils, which I love! I am also trying different color schemes. I have finished 3 separate 24"x24" pieces. Sometimes things just come together. All fun things!

What's currently on my easel. A 30"x30" work in progress.

But......

I also have a really exciting HELLO to announce! And I would love EVERYONE's help. I am going to be doing a new piece about the seasons. It will be comprised of 12 canvases, 36"x9". Each one will represent a month out of the year. I want to incorporate words that people associate with each month. So this is where I would LOVE your feedback! I am going to pick 52 words...one for each week of the year. 4-5 per canvas. My plan is to paint the words using the symbols representing Morse Code. I was first interested in using Morse Code in my college work, but this will be my first time using it in my oil paintings. In the comments below, please put the month and the word or words that you associate with that month. Thanks!

Sky Gazing

I am an artist. I have been inspired by many artists, but today my inspiration came from my surroundings. Beauty is my currency. It fills me up. I gulp in the blue skies. I love gazing at the clouds. The sky, for me, is the beauty my eyes have been scanning more and more. I am happy to report that the skies are clear, there's no rain in sight.

As I walked through Fredrick Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park today, I was struck by its beauty and thoughtfulness. I enjoyed seeing all the different sculptures intermixed with beautiful nature. Each one inspired different interaction. I was transported to a new place as I enjoyed the well thought out Japanese Garden area. I felt like a child again. Wide-eyed and full. Full of wonder and curiosity as I took in new sights. Full of energy.

The location my artwork will be for ArtPrize. Downtown Grand Rapids, MI.

I am visiting Grand Rapids.....home of Art Prize. The welcome sign read "Pure Michigan" and I have not been disappointed. The fields. The sky. The cool air. The kind and friendly people.

I wonder how I can take this beauty into my studio? How will it inspire me? What shall I do with all the new visual memories I am making? Only time will tell. I once had a professor in college express this same sentiment...it is hard to know how your experiences will affect your art. You must let it germinate. Sometimes I think I know, but really the evolving and the influences are more subtle than I realize. I write things down as they come. And I scratch my thumbnails (small composition based drawing sketches.) This does help me think through ideas, but my paintings that come to life are more than drawings with paint. I believe that the history behind each piece is important. The first layer informs the next layer and eventually it is part of the history that needs to stay preserved, untouched. This experience leads to the finished piece. This journey that I am describing is something I must work at. I work to keep the dialog going. I work to show up. I work against the fear that it isn't going to be "the best" because not all are. Some are the awkward learning pieces that potentially get painted over in another season, once I have learned what needed to be learned.

I paint to see. I learn about myself as I paint. Painting is my out loud for all to see processing. This carries the potential for a lot of embarrassment, but I’m willing to risk the embarrassment, in order to learn and grow. I want to test my limits. I want to try new things. I want to perfect old ways as they resurface. I especially love revisiting an idea that I stopped short, not plunging the depths- whether it is a brushstroke, a story, a color, or a color scheme. I am curious by nature. This can get me in trouble at times, but with art it is one of my biggest strengths. The power of curiosity. The wonder.

I also love being the co-pilot with my best friend. And road trips are good for me, with free reign to talk. Nothing else to do but pass the time. Often this is when discoveries happen and this trip has been no different. I discovered that I have a slight block with smaller oil paintings. I struggle to get the same consistency of satisfaction with them. My "small barrier" seems to be 2'x2' and under. As soon as I go up to a 3'x3', I seem to hit a sweet spot. My most recent piece, my first work intended only for a public space, was large (8'x9' together, but with spacing 8'x19'). Making it has been invigorating. The scale itself was inspiring. I am encouraged to explore more public works..... This is definitely appealing to me. I am not sure if it is all the murals I have completed or my love for the presentation and installation of work, but I've realized large work seems to breed a deep satisfaction in me.

I remember my drawing class in college. It was not a typical drawing class. It wasn't just works on paper tacked to the critique wall. The word "drawing" was used loosely. This class was about discovery. It was about delving deeper into the thing I wanted to explore more. Mine happened to be obsessive patterning. It was so helpful to try this in all different ways. Though miniatures. With wire. By carving a pumpkin. I even had the opportunity to display Gatorade bottles in a bucket of ice. I'm thankful for what I learned and how I grew through that process.

All that I have created. All the classes I have sat through. The good and bad critiques. Sales. Rejection and acceptance letters. These have made me. But so did moving out. And graduating college. Moving home. Meeting the man of my dreams. Getting married. Having babies. Enduring emotional and physical pain. Making friends and loosing friends. These experiences, this process, the successes and failures all together, make up my history. They’ve formed my depth as a person and as an artist.

Whether you are on the hilltop or in a valley. Take it one day at a time. One step at a time. It will be lovely when all the sudden you discover you are at a vantage point with a better view. So gaze up at the sky and gulp it in. Be inspired. Soak in any beauty you can find. And let it affect you.