Bare Bones

No results found

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 Hopes

4'x6' Oil on Canvas

A-Three

2'x4'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.

Small works in progress.  

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!

Oil and cold wax works in progress.  

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. 

Cornfields and blue sky for days.  

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.

Arch Sculture and unbelievable Sky. 

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.

Big Star Lake, MI

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.

Watercolors in process.  

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.

If today was a drink what type would it be?

The 4th of July and I have had a tentative relationship. I grew up in a family where it wasn’t a BIG thing, but not because my family was unpatriotic. It wasn't always a day off for my Dad and 4 day weekends are a bit more rare in their jobs than in the Army. This holiday was a nice day to relax and catch the fireworks from afar, but we didn't fight the crowds or throw BBQs. We went to parades when we were little, but there was not a lot of celebrating. I had a longing for more celebration, and now I know it's because I belonged with some people I had yet to meet.

Everything changed 7 years ago….

Now the 4th marks the beginning of me wanting this NEW LIFE, this uncomfortable unknown lifestyle of being a military wife. Wanting it more than I wanted to be safe and be like most of the people I grew up with. (I was a bit unaware of the military in the area where I grew up.)

Red, white and blue crowd waiting for fireworks.

The 4th of July weekend was my first big event with my future husband seven years ago during our long distance relationship. It was a huge BBQ, two grills…. lots of food and sides, games, and people. I was meeting his parents for the FIRST time. I also met a few of his sisters. I had no idea that I was part of the reason for the BIG turn out. He had told his friends and family that an important girl was coming (his girlfriend)! Man was I nervous! Plus, we had breakfast with my folks during an extended pit stop on their long drive from Florida vacation back home to Virginia. That stop was a miracle in itself. When my family travels, they don’t linger. The mission is to get home as quickly as possible. But this stop was so WORTH it! My mom finally met the man I would someday marry. It had been a long distance thing for just one month at this point.

It was the most magical day. After arriving at his bachelor pad, I got to spend some quality time with his mom and two of his sisters. I still remember his mom buying me a coffee from Starbucks and then we rummaged around some bargain stores for clothes…. getting lost in a town where I had lived the earlier half of that year. There was laughter and conversation.

The whole day seemed like different waves of people. Out of town people hung out longer than the in town people who joined us. If he hadn’t seen me in a while, he would come find me, in the sweetest way. He just loved introducing me to EVERYONE! I remember getting to know his dad and step-mom on the couch by the bay window. He was snapping pictures all day long…. capturing all sorts of candid moments.

That night, we crammed into cars to go on base to see the fireworks. What a beautiful display! On the long walk back to the car…. I asked a funny question…. “If today was a drink what type of drink would it be? And why?”

He laughed, but he went with it….. ”SWEET TEA. Because it is my favorite.”
My answer: “Perrier, because I can drink one a day.”

My heart was full. This was a significant day. My heart has never been the same concerning the love of my life. And it will never be the same when I think about our country, either.

American Flag doodle in my sketchbook.

I teared up today.

Out of the blue. While I was telling my girls that the 4th of July is America’s birthday…

They love birthdays because to them birthdays equal treats.

But I went on highlighting to them how awesome it is to live in a country with freedom and how their daddy fights for that freedom and how WE ARE A PART OF THAT. I am grateful that my patriotic heart finally found the place it was called to serve! This privilege is costly… I have stopped trying to predict or plan the future…. to a point. I have had to learn to WAIT better, and have realized that as long as I don’t give up, eventually the wait will be over.

Celebrating the 4th is important. Not elaborate, but meaningful. We have yet to have a party that rivals our first 4th together. Especially since that marks the night we knew that we would marry each other. A month later he proposed.

This 24"x24" oil painting reminded my friend of fireworks. Which is a compliment, I have never felt I could capture their beauty.

Some years we have spent this day what felt like a million miles apart because of the mission of freedom. And other years we have been hand and hand. Each has been meaningful in its own way.  I can’t have one and abandon the other. 

How do you celebrate the 4th? I think I am finding that the celebration starts with my gratefulness. I want to soak that in. Soak in that I am "Proud to be an American.” I am grateful to be his wife. To be a mom. And to be able to create.

Connection

Connection.
 
Link, relationship, bond.
 
This is what I long for when my soldier is home or away. What I desire from those who see my work. For those that read my words. With my children and my friends. There are many different ways to connect and different depths of connection. 

Everyone is waiting for something. Whether it is summer break or the cool days of autumn. As I waited for the connection with an Artprize venue, and for “The Weight of Time” to dry and new fresh canvases to come, I found time. I got busy experimenting with watercolors. In one of my recent art orders I picked up an eight inch by eight inch watercolor block (it is a watercolor pad of paper that is glued together on the sides in order to keep the ripples out). I almost always use these blocks, it is way simpler for me than taping down watercolor paper to a board. Watercolors, for me, are a jumping off point. I see them as a rich beginning to pen work or a color pencil piece. I love sharing my photos on Instagram and I also feel like this is a place I can consistently view other artists in process, which is inspiring. I have a passion to invest in other people’s art as well. Recently I was messaging with another artist (@susannah_bee_art) to inquire about her small works and I discovered that they were $100 each. This felt doable. A spark of inspiration.

"Refreshing in Still Moments"
 8"x8" Watercolor, Pen and Color Pencil

Sold

So while I waited, I started something new….

Work in progress...

I put my price on these little paintings on Instagram and Facebook. I see people who do this ALL the time but I have been afraid to put myself out there in this way. For a lot of my work, mailing or delivery is a complicated thing, so I just haven’t wanted to over commit. This is a problem with thinking I have to have it all figured out before I act. The difference between cautious and overcautious is a fine line. I had never sold things to people that haven’t seen my work in person, but that seems to be changing. Many things I have been believing seemed to be proving wrong. I thought that I would have to frame the work to make it marketable. I thought my watercolors were too small to be desirable. Not so!  There was a connection and now three of those watercolors have their own home. I figured out a way to ship them and now it feels a bit less murky. This is doable.  I actually have a new spot on my website where you can purchase these small works!
 

A detail of "Sky Gazing" before it was complete.

Often these unknown barriers that I put up keep me from connecting. With a potential buyer, or another artist, or even a mom at swim practice. That first connection….the unsaid acceptance, or assumption, can be enough for a while - but eventually words are NECESSARY to go deeper. The “I miss you”, the “good job”, or the “you are important to me” may seem to be obvious to one, but not always the other. Sometimes we just need to start a conversation to begin a connection.  Personal connections repetitively make for close relationships over time. Groups of people sharing this repetitive connection create a sense of community. This is especially comforting when that connection happens in a tangible way. Like when the messes of life – when I feel like I am not succeeding, but struggling, or even failing - happen and then the outstretched arms of an embrace (figuratively or literally) catch me…. and then I can breathe a little easier.

This is true for me today. I am happy to announce that I can breathe a little easier! I have a new status as “connected” for Artprize! That means that I am ONE of the thousand artists competing for the cash prizes…..if you want to know all those details go to artprize.org

This connection is BIG for me! I first had the seed of hope planted in February 2013 and it grew into a dream in January 2016. As I uncovered the barriers and obstacles, we started planning some possible solutions, but the ultimate step of being CONNECTED this time, was out of our hands. We submitted more than required. We sent personal messages. I made my profile as appealing and thorough as possible, and then I waited. As you might have read in the last blog post “Resisting the Riptide of Rejection”, those emails that said “your request to be connected has been declined” wore on me. But how sweet it is when THE CONNECTION IS RIGHT.  “The Weight of Time” will be on display at the downtown location of Brush Studio. September 21- October 9. This is the biggest competition I have ever competed in!

Anyone up for a road trip?! To Michigan this fall? I am looking forward to it….it’s a NEW type of adventure for me. I love road trips. There is something about the open road. I actually have a lot of road trips planned for the coming months, and I just returned from one this week.
 

New sights. New experiences. New inspiration. My girls and I made a long but short trip to DC and it was fun! My friend and I ventured into the city with 5 kids under 5. I REALLY wanted to see Hirshorn’s exhibit….Linn Meyers “My View from Here.” If you find yourself in DC before May 14, 2017 (yes it is a year long exhibit), go! I was excited to help make this new connection for my girls, showing them their first art museum. I hope that over time they will grow to appreciate art of all types.

Exhibit link above.

As I waited for the venue connection…. virtual connection inspired…and I left my comfort zone, both artistically and physically, to take a journey. My journey North was a re-connection with an old friend and a new connection with my girls. I am still in “over my head” so to speak, but in the words of a famous fish “Just Keep Swimming” is what I plan on doing.

"Just Keep Swimming"  

8"x8" Watercolor, Pen and Color Pencil

Sold

Resisting the Riptide of Rejection

Rejection, not a fun topic. As an artist -strike that- as a person we must face rejection. I find there are layers to my experience of rejection. I can feel rejected as a person/friend/mom, etc…. Or I can feel the professional inferiority, WHO AM I TO CALL MYSELF AN ARTIST? I have had that internal fight that says, “does what I make matter?” Thankfully I don’t get to this low place as often as I once did. The more I risk and step out, the more I have a personal history of failures and successes to reference and gain perspective.

There have been seasons when I have done everything I can to avoid being rejected. I’ve played it safe with my art, made what I knew people already liked. I’ve tried to be who the people in my life wanted me to be. Eventually the person least happy was me. I felt trapped by my own perfectionism. Constantly worrying about approval, acceptance, and "not making the wrong move." Honestly there are times I still feel trapped, but as I step forward away from this mentality, I experience more and more freedom.  

The emotions and thoughts that go with this trap are like a riptide in the ocean. I think I am swimming on course and then I look to shore and discover that I have been pulled away. The best way to return is to get out of the waves and walk back. Not what I like to do. Right now I am walking out of the riptide and the ocean waves. It has been wearing on me. I just got another email from a venue for ArtPrize and my work has been declined three times. Months ago I was turned down to be in an artist magazine…it is one of my dreams. I have submitted multiple times. This time I was hopeful, more hopeful than before, but I do accept that not every opportunity presented happens quickly.

Perseverance is critical in this life journey we are all on. I have grown in my ability to persevere as I wait for homecoming to happen.  

I remember my high hopes and idealistic view when I was fresh out of college. I believed that the opportunities would build momentum and they did, but in a slower way than I had imagined. I completed five, 6 ft x 2 ft pieces (pictured below). I had an independent investor that was willing to take the risk and front the money I needed to build the canvases, gesso and paint them. This did lead somewhere…..... 2 years after I completed them. I am reminding myself that a GREAT idea or a GREAT beginning doesn’t necessarily mean that it will continue that way, and that the ending will look like what I originally envisioned.

View fullsize

Luminous Journey

View fullsize

Emerging Journey

View fullsize

Submered in Journey

View fullsize

Serene Journey

View fullsize

Vivacous Journey

IS IT STILL WORTH IT?    

I would say “YES!”

detail of the flag on the combat side of "The Weight of Time"

I am refusing to be pulled by the tide of rejection. I returned back to to my studio and canvases! I had my lunch. I sat and had “a chat” with my piece….processing what it needed. Where should my brush go next? It is the discipline of “showing up” -even when I don’t feel inspired. I plug on. I follow the one idea and usually in the doing, I discover the next idea and I keep going. One idea at a time. This time I started with the American Flag. It was exciting….I could see the upper right corner coming alive, changing the feeling of the piece. I worked on the areas surrounding the top right combat flag and then moved to the bottom left home flag. There are times when you plan meaning and there are times when you stumble upon meaning. It happens without you really knowing. That is the case with the depiction of the American Flag in the bottom half. As my husband and I bring people out to see this in-progress work, people keep commenting about the “stars falling off the flag.” The emotion that it evokes is true. There are times when my soldier leaves and my clear vision for the greater mission wanes. I lose perspective. The stars start falling from their right place, but thankfully I have been able to move forward and regain perspective throughout the process. I think the same thing can happen when we are rejected in our lives. Through staying connected to those who remind me of my purpose, my soldier and other military wives, I can continue.

"The Weight of Time"

In my piece I started to depict the connection through little dotted lines. Connection takes perseverance and being intentional. The dots are sparse in the painting…still deciding if more is needed. I intentionally left the bottom left corner blank as it times feels like something is missing at home when my soldier is gone. I am at a place in my process where I believe the best way to move forward is to “sit on it.” What I mean by that is to work on other paintings as I give “The Weight of Time” space, in order to discover if I am finished? It is so important for me to step back from my work physically as I am painting and step back with time, as I wait for it to settle. It is that in-between: when I think I may be done but I'm just not quite sure.

As I step back physically from my canvases, I am also stepping back and waiting for more venues to review my submission and accept my piece. Only time will tell where this piece belongs. I am trusting God and the process to do it’s work. I have 5 potential places I am waiting on.  I risk rejection by putting out heartfelt work. The closer it is to my heart, the seemingly more risky it feels.

Sometimes the NO’s that we receive make things clearer. Now that I am nearly done, we took the canvases and spread them out with the gaps we had planned to have when they were displayed. The initial gaps ended up being too big…. distorting the imagery too much. As we tweaked the spacing, we found the balance of depicting how time feels and still kept the integrity of the painting. I decreased all the gaps by 30 percent. This changes the overall space needed to display this work as well. It went from 25ft to 19ft in length. At this point we are still planning on photographing the canvases together and displaying that image next to the stretched out piece. Then the viewer can see how the separation distorts the images. Time and space make it hard to see clearly what the other person is experiencing, but as we stay connected in order to come back together, we gain perspective and clarity.

Using the panorama setting helped us capture "The Weight of Time" with gaps.

The Weight of Time

There is something about getting away that brings clarity. We went to the beach for a long weekend. It was what I needed. It was what our family needed. Together time after a couple months of activity packed weeks and weekends. We needed slow. We needed no schedule. Take it as it comes kinda days. We ended up packing a lot in, but nothing felt rushed. Kite flying and aquarium on the windy day. Sand tunnels and picnic lunch on the nicer day. It is funny how when I am tired I think doing NOTHING will be most refreshing, but I find that sometimes when I do the SOMETHINGS that I never seem to have time to do, I am refreshed.

One of my "SOMETHINGS" was starting the submission process for the Art Prize Venue. I am quite excited about getting that fully completed. It is the KEY….I have to find a place large enough to show my piece, that will also be a good space to get our message out. Part of my wish list is white walls (so that the space between is a stark contrast) and a space where it can be viewed from a distance away. I will keep you posted on this! We have 5 venues we are waiting to hear back from! This is exciting and nerve-racking all at the same time.

Going away and getting some distance also helps you realize where you are….I was unable to start my piece because leaning them up against the wall didn’t give me the consistency I needed to create the piece. So even though I had gessoed (with help), planned the spacing, documented the spacing, and drawn the blind contours -they were all just stacked up around my studio….a weight. The deadline is approaching. I need to get them done so I can give them PLENTY of dry time because oils dry slow. The day we returned home we tackled the tedious job of putting wires on all 18 of the canvases. Now they are hanging! We had to get a board in order to hang them because the trim on the studio wall was preventing them from being able to be hung directly on the wall. Note to self, next time consider the size of my studio before deciding the size of canvases. There is no wiggle room and I have black marks on the ceiling and wall to prove it. It is so hard not to hit things as I move these canvases around, but now they are READY!!!!!
 

We even have a name. I think this is the first time I have ever named a piece before it was completed. This piece is different. It is unlike anything I have ever attempted. It has taken the MOST planning and support. I was getting antsy to just get some paint on the canvas already! This is more than just an intuitive piece for me, when I follow my own aesthetic of what I think looks good. This is still about looking good but also about sharing a message and my message is dual-sided. It is about the fierce Warriors that love to fight injustice but feel torn about the subsequent effects on their families, and the families that want to support who their Warrior is in his core, despite the pain they have to endure for the cause. In the times that I have felt “done” with the sacrifice,  it has become clear to me that I can’t separate the parts of this man I married. I can’t expect him to have the edge of a warrior yet demand a premature retirement from the fight.

The chalk pastels are creating a cool rainbow dust affect at the base as draw with them. 

“The Weight of Time”.
As you wait, you feel the weight.
My husband and I were brainstorming (because we name the art together). We threw a lot of different things out there…and we settled that the main element isn’t war vs. home or connection miles apart, it is the way time “behaves” or feels as you face a deployment. I have been sharing these concepts with others, and one soldier commented, when I said I was trying to depict how time feels,  “ are you going to depict heavy?” This got me thinking. This dark cloud of pending rain, the wait of the weight, can color how you see all the days leading up to the goodbye.

Thankfully I can say my heavy rain cloud has passed for now. I started painting! I have leaned into the truth, I believe in the mission and there is still more for us to contribute as a family. Not throwing fits, not giving up, learning how to keep going and keep connecting through busyness, stress and fear.

Work in process.

Progress is happening on "The Weight of Time" each day! We even had a promo video filmed telling from my perspective:

- what are the military family struggles/challenges
- my experience with the struggle
- how my art relates to it
- what can people do to help (support RHF)

About to be filmed.

I was nervous and excited. The butterflies were fluttering in my stomach. I want to be inspiring and moving but CONCISE. This is not my strength. Ha! But thankfully by talking through the main points and writing out my message, I was able to speak clearly (according to the guy filming). Now I face a different kind of waiting, a waiting to see someone else's art piece about my art.
Follow me on Instagram @eaw_art for in progrss photos of all my current art happenings.

Remedy

There is a tension…..a relational tension. I need people, yet people let me down. There are times that I feel so misunderstood that it seems better to keep all the really important stuff to myself. When I do that- go into self-protective mode- I numb, or try to avoid all the bad; but I really end up going into a task mode. I am getting lots done, feeling productive, but sadly the good feelings that I long for, love and acceptance, are not there either. I can go a while thinking “I am doing great” ...until I can’t.
 
I am stretched with this new piece. Sometimes it takes a bit for me to know what my piece needs next. I have been projecting my blind contours on the canvases. I have never done multiple layers of projection. When I project the drawing, its size on the canvas enlarges or shrinks based on how far the projector is from it. I started with the lawnmower and sunflowers, then moved to the tank, guitar, and bicycle. It is surprising that the piece seems too small to fit everything I want. I never thought I would say this! All this planning and preparation is not my favorite, but I NEED to get it right! So I went back to the Airborne museum with all its sounds and sights, to do a couple more blind contours. … and I realize that put me a little on edge.

I was looking for encouragement when I showed a trusted friend my progress, and instead I found some corrective criticism. I took it to heart, even though I just wanted to blow it off.  So even though I am a confident artist that has over ten years experience of selling my work, I was aching. What if I screw it all up? What if it isn’t as powerful of a statement as I am trying to make? What if I mess it up?! This place is a dangerous place to be. Dangerous because the fears start strangling my hope. I stop trusting that I am capable to problem solve any blunders.

SO WHAT GOT ME OUT? What was my remedy to this heart-sickness?
 
I called an artist friend. One that goes back to my freshman year of college. She knows what I am capable of and she is not afraid to tell me when I have gotten off coarse. Her work is very different than mine but she understands my style and my process. It started as a call and then we went to FaceTime…I thought she needed to “SEE IT”. See the challenges, see why I was going back and forth. She told me, “I know it is going to be great.” She didn’t give me the answer, but helped me to discover it for myself. Her reassurance helped me to be brave. Brave enough to get rid of the tank blind contour and to believe I would figure out how to fit it all….
 
Soaking it in.
I AM NOT MEANT TO FACE IT ALONE. YOU ARE NOT MEANT TO FACE IT ALONE.
 
We can be each other's remedy. The first time I heard this saying was when my friend was given a necklace from her cousin with the word ‘remedy’ on it. When her cousin gave the gift, she told her "you are my remedy." I kept thinking about that... My words, or my presence, could be someone's "remedy"....the just. what. I. needed. moment.
 
 

I think back to the moments and people during deployment that were remedies for me.  
 
A phone call normalizing the crazy I was going through. When my emotions went from happy to angry the first time arriving home after a trip while he was deployed.
 
The coffee delivered with a hug from another mom going through deployment too.  
 
The place for my pregnant body to crash and two small girls to play until the smell of bug spraying dissipated.
 
The place to drop my other two kids at a moment's notice so I could go to ER with my daughter who busted her head open.
 
The invitation to dinner.  
 
The craft night, that I thought was just dinner and hanging out.
 
The Saturday that I did nothing but be. The plop yourself on the couch. Relaxed home away from the not-so-homey home. The conversation and coffee all while life happened in our lounge-wear.
 
The collaborative dinners. Experimental dinners with a trusted friend-if it bombed there was no shame.  
 
The understanding that if your soldier calls TALK. ANSWER. TAKE YOUR TIME.  
 
The help putting the kids in the car because I was outnumbered and tired.
 
The extra hugs, the waiting for me to let my guard down. The prayers and encouraging words that met my tearful eyes.
 
Surprising me with dinner for my family.
 
The exceptionally clear Skype or FaceTime.  
 
Being able to stay, just because I can't think of a reason to leave to go to an empty home with dinner alone.

These are the healing balm to an aching heart. The people that understood and were open with their own struggles, and the others that were just available.
 
Adell's lyrics inspired the "remedy" necklace and as I listened to her song what stood out to me the most was "this ain't easy, it's not meant to be. Every story has it's scars ....."
 
Because many people have gone before me, and because at times it seems that others just "handled" things so much better than me… my feelings of failure become inflamed. The truth is that my story is unique. And it is hard. My struggles seem to change, but when I acknowledge it is not meant to be easy, I can enjoy the surprise of ease, if it ever arrives. All of us face struggles in one shape or form. The hardships that are mounting against you today are the "scars" that give you what it takes to walk with others, in order to be their remedy.  There is beauty that comes through perseverance. I have "quit" many times only to realize that me "quitting" is the beginning of me getting through. I have to quit going at it alone. That means I can't just fake that I am strong or say " I got this."
 
" When the pain cuts you deep. When the night keeps you from sleeping. Just look and see. That I will be your remedy."
 
I know that my faith in God is what truly heals the deepest cuts, but I am surprised at how much He uses people. I have been completely discouraged and maxed out with army life. My man is training hard and no matter how much I tell myself that it is good and needed, stress can still get the best of me. Especially when I am not where I want to be with my artwork and the kids have being crying "I don't want daddy to go to far away work and die." This wears on me as a mom who wants to protect my kids from this type of emotional pain. There is little I can do, there are no guaranties that our soldiers will come back to us in the same manner that they left. It is a mental battle to not delve into the fear of loss before it happens. I have made this mistake and I have spiraled down, unable to be reached -until I start giving thanks for all I have, instead of dreading the loss of it.
 
I wasn't going to share this, but I had a friend encourage me not to gloss over it.
So may you find remedy today for the pain that cuts you deep.
Reach out. Call that friend. Be thankful for what you do have or at least work towards thankfulness.

Space. Separation. Solitude.

TEN Years ago I wrote this post and as I reread it, it still rings true!

As a military spouse I have experienced different types of separation. Separations with many time zones crossed. Some with more uncertainties than others. In this age of instant communication, I have learned about waiting. I have sent many emails that feel like “lost letters.” During one separation that felt the longest for me, I did not hear from him for over two weeks. Not an email. Not a phone call. Not a text. That disconnection was almost unbearable.

Deployment...

Hours, days, weeks, months....they all add up. Personally it feels like time behaves differently when your other half is in harm's way. This piece is an attempt to depict the way time feels.

The first time showing it at Artprize.

 Overall size 8' x 25' (made up of 18, 8'x6" canvases)....still blank, paint coming soon!

Even though I have been gathering info from my soldier about wartime images ,the spacing in this piece describes the element of time from my perspective. In the beginning there is a dragging on. Almost a ripping away feeling, as I have spent every possible moment with him before he leaves, and then he’s just gone. There’s a painful emptiness.

I remember my first deployment goodbye EVER in 2010. We stayed up late the night before, we got a movie with every intention to watch it, but didn’t get around to it. He bought flowers (upon my request) because beauty has a way of lifting my spirit. We woke up and he made videos for me to watch while he was gone (for when I miss him and can't call him - because I have to wait for him to contact me.)

We went to Waffle House, and conversation was awkward. I wanted to enjoy it and be normal, but in my mind I knew in a couple hours I would be giving him his last hug and kiss for a WHILE. A long while. Words were stuck in my throat. So I just looked at him and commented about the food, small talking my way through it. Anyone who knows me would tell you this is not my style. I love delving deep. Not this time. I wanted to just keep it (mostly) together and try to think about anything except this HUGE gap we were facing. He surprised me after breakfast, and we stopped at a nearby park and strolled, enjoying what beauty was left that February. We embraced and even danced to one of our songs in order to feel close before we drove to where I was dropping him off. It is all the small things in those moments that matter. The hand holding, the hugs, the kisses, my mind and heart try desperately to capture them, how they feel.

a picture of how big the first gap will be. (22inches)

The together memories are freshest in the beginning. The days drag as I learn to accept this will be my reality for a while. I will not get to welcome him home each night. I will not be sharing about my days over dinner every evening. We will not be keeping each other warm as we fall asleep. So I depicted the second longest space in the very beginning of my piece. For me it takes a bit to change gears. To figure out what this separation is going to look like.  On both ends. How will the internet be where he is going? How often will he be able to call or Skype? How busy will he be? Who will I spend most of my time with here? Who do I know that is facing the same thing right now? How can I stop avoiding my empty bed?

Eventually plans do get made…..sometimes more than others. I get some sleep. A groove is found and the pieces getting closer together reflect that new rhythm. It is not a given, but many times I can find a friend or two and we do dinner together or hang out on the weekends. 

Me stuck in the middle.

Then there is the half way slump. It is a mixture of emotions….I feel happy that I’ve made it half way, but then again that first half felt SO long… can I really make it through the second half?! Can I really face it? The time and distance are so massive, there is no way around it. Busying myself or traveling doesn’t make it go away. The separation goes with me. Each time I come home or there is a lull in the busyness, the separation is there. The longing to be together. The desire to connect for an entire evening, not just a snippet of time. But those snippets get me through. The emails that are in my inbox when I wake up. The rare occasion of a package or letter. The phone calls or iMessages when he’s available. They all get me through. It takes work to stay connected and open, for both of us. This piece is about being WORLDS APART but still working to be TOGETHER, through the good, the bad and the ugly.

Usually I have my "Half Way Never. Going. To. Make. It. Meltdown".... because I feel that I should be encouraged or MORE encouraged that we are halfway through, but some days all I can see is how BIG the second half seems. Eventually I find my rhythm again. I get back into doing life and making plans. Often I have a couple things planned that I look forward to.

It’s helpful if I spread my plans out a bit, because I have learned over time that depending on the build-up or preparation, I can experience a bit of a letdown afterward. For example, my third daughter turned ONE last deployment and historically (with our other two) their first birthdays were a BIG deal. Even though she wouldn’t have known that I didn’t throw a party (until she was much older); I felt it was important to stay true to our traditions, even though my husband was gone. Thankfully with GOOD help and  a little money spent (for some items that I wouldn’t normally pay for), IT WAS A GREAT BASH! I did it! The rain held off, people came, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. But afterward there was that letdown…. I have realized it with other big events too.  A sort of build up and excitement before and during the event, and then a low when it is finished. My friend described it as “an adrenaline letdown.” Combined with my normal good and bad days of deployment, I can fall into the pit of despair if not careful.

One of my books I am making to stay connected to the good memories.

I am a person that craves closeness and connection. One thing I do while to keep my heart open and soft while we are separated is to reflect. I reflect on the good times by making books with our old photos. During our second deployment I made a book about our beginnings. I wrote about our first date and our wedding, plus our first year. It is something I still look back on to remind myself how much we love each other. Our vows are in there so we revisit them on our anniversary. I also have a special playlist on my phone that is called “love stretching the miles”. They are all songs that make me think of my love. Sometimes  I play them loud and dance silly. Other times I just cry as my heart is softened and remind myself that no matter how many times we say goodbye, I still matter to him.

The “home” stretch is always a whirlwind of emotions for me. Not unlike many of my fellow army wives, we have goals to accomplish in the time apart. Sometimes that half way point can be a wake up call that I haven’t gotten as much done as I had hoped to. Whether the goals are projects or fitness oriented (two seemingly common goal areas), if the first half is unproductive, the disappointment can set in. When that is the case I have to remember that I am not “winning him back” or “proving my worth”, I am WELCOMING HIM HOME. I keep chipping away, but mostly I need to “be kind to myself” and judge my accomplishments in light of all I shoulder when my other half is gone.

My girls with their Auntie preparing a sign for daddy, morning of his return.

The COUNTDOWN is an exciting time. It is close enough that I have to start leaving my schedule open to account for the BIG change that is about to occur. Wanting him home and wanting the wait to be over is so thick, I find that I am distracted by it. It can be consuming. Sometimes there is a surge of activity, but I choose to pace myself. He is not just coming home to the 4 walls, but to me. I need to be open to him relationally. The end stretches on to what feels like forever…..I try to prepare my mind for a stage that I never knew existed: REINTEGRATION…..This is the time of trying to become a family all in one place again. Everyone has changed. And even the GOOD changes take adjusting to.   There is pain and hardship that has to be unburdened on both sides and intentional TIME TOGETHER is the only way I know how to figure it out….of course personal space is needed too, but I must not give in to the thought that being healthy “just happens” by him returning home.

Special Daddy- daughter tea time.  

Before I ever experienced deployment, my expectations of separation and how I would feel were different than reality. I thought “I am a independent person, I have art to make and friends to hang with…” . But I can feel lonely even with all that.  I miss the fun and lightheartedness that my husband brings to my life. Life with him has the potential for a crazy adventure every weekend. New projects. Impromptu dinner parties, just FUN. I am naturally a bit more serious……yet I am learning that I need a variety of interactions, deep conversations, as well as silly and light times. When He is gone, I must be more intentional about seeking this out.

Deployments have taught me that I need others who are in tune to me and my rhythms. Ones who know the cycle of emotions that come with deployment, usually because they have lived it, or are living it beside me. This is one reason the gardens at Rick's Place are so special to me. COMMUNITY. I've found a place to be me whether my husband is deployed or not. It's a place where there is no shame in receiving, but also plenty of ways to give back.

Earlier this month we people planting out at Rick's Place.

Stretching Togetherness

I felt like a little girl awaiting Christmas morning as I waited for the 18 8 foot by 6 inch canvases to arrive. The company I ordered them from had said Tuesday, March 22 would be the day. Tuesday came and went and no canvases. Wednesday came and went. No matter how many times I looked out the window, the canvases didn't arrive. Thursday I called and got a tracking number. These beauties were coming all the way from Canada. One company had started the delivery and another would finish it.

That Saturday, still with no canvases, I found refuge in my studio during my girls’ nap time. I tore 8 foot by 15 inch sheets of paper off the roll. I pinned them to the ceiling in order to get a better idea of scale and to plan out the placement of the blind contours. This is my first time pre-planning for a piece. I wanted to get an idea of how BIG it really was going to be. After doing the "Birthday Winner" piece, I realized the most important part of these pieces with the black gesso is the composition of the blind contours. The shape of the negative space can make the piece interesting or fall flat. How much will I enlarge the blind contours when I project them? How many more do I need? How much overlapping will there be in the blind contours? How readable should the images be? All questions I ask myself. This is the first time since college that I have had a specific assignment so to speak. For me, this is much different from all my commissions. Some clients have had an overall feeling that they wanted me to convey, but ultimately it has always been about a certain look (based on past works).

With these questions swirling, after looking at my drawings and talking to my soldier; I have decided I still need some other staples to depict the war-reality half of the piece. I am anticipating using tank and helicopter drawings as well as some different depictions of guns, possibly a HUM-V and body armor (yet to be drawn). Also I am still brainstorming the home-front imagery as well.

Eventually the canvas company did call. The delivery time window was 11-3 on Monday.  I arranged my day accordingly, and that time came and went. Little did I know, 5:45 would be perfect time for them to arrive.  Because they weigh a total of 300 pounds, I wanted the canvases to go straight to my studio, just a couple yards behind our house....the delivery man had only a dolly and he told me that he would only take it as far as the pavement went. All day as I waited, I had been preparing homemade spaghetti sauce. One of our family favorites, rigatoni (a mix between lasagna and baked ziti), was on the menu. That evening, we were hosting three important potential supporters for RHF. Making dinner, while I waited, had been an all-day affair. Thankfully I felt relatively calm.

My husband's brother, who we only see about once a year (due to busy schedules), was also joining us for dinner. He and his girlfriend had offered to take my girls with them to check out the progress on Rick's Place (RHF's property.) In my time alone, I was chopping the salad toppings and waiting. I heard a knock at the door. My husband's friend was also in for the weekend, and he popped in to say goodbye before he flew back to Texas. His timing was perfect. The canvases arrived and this friend helped the delivery man get the box of paintings to the studio. Otherwise that box would have stopped at the garage. The waiting was finally over!

Then something quite unexpected happened..... I felt a new weight. Excitement turned on its head and heaviness came quickly. I hadn't realized that I had been trying to go at it alone. Just like any deployment, going at it alone is never best. The emotions of our upcoming deployment came over me, even though I have months until it is time to say goodbye again. Making this piece brings those far too familiar emotions right to the surface.

Like this balloon, I was alone and stuck.

It was time. I needed to prep my canvases. The gesso I normally use is white. Gesso is used to prime the canvas so that it can withstand the paint. It creates a barrier between the oil paint and the fibers in the raw canvas. Most canvases that are pre-stretched are already gessoed, but since I custom ordered these canvases, they came unprimed.

I spilled a whole gallon of black gesso. A mess. Instead of cleaning it up, I just painted with it off the floor. That was a bad idea. So bad that I didn't even text my husband. I couldn’t gather my composure enough to figure out the best way to clean it up. My mind went to my friends who are alone now, and to those who never welcomed their soldier back home. My job, my hope, is that through this piece, I can be a voice. A voice that says that there are many real families that choose to live for freedom, knowing if they don't, someone else will go in their place. I have thought of it over and over. Why us? And then I think about my husband and how he loves fighting for freedom, even though he hates leaving us. He was made to be a soldier. He does his job well and I continue to learn what it means to do my job well. I did not grow up appreciating the sacrifices that have been made and those who still make them. Now I cannot and will not turn a blind eye to those who have paid the ultimate price. They don't want our pity, they want the torch to be carried on, that those behind them would be bold and brave, living for a cause bigger than themselves.

Spilling that gesso caused me to see that my heart was hurting and that I needed help. The state of my heart is important when I am creating. Normally I skip to my studio, but lately that lighthearted nature has been hard to find. My husband came in and it was not the help I thought I needed. After helping me clean it up, he mentioned to me that I was not making the coats even (this part of the process is more like house painting- not my expertise).  I was doing it as evenly as I could, but I am not methodical. That is good for my art usually, but in this moment, I was falling short of the excellence that I crave.

We had planned to go to dinner and shopping (per my request) that night, but the conversation about the canvases had made me feel like that would not turn out so well. He was blowing off the driveway, I waved him down. I did the hard thing, I told him I would like his help. He came and started showing me how to overcome some of the technical difficulties I was running into with the black gesso. We got into a rhythm and I suggested that we do a quicker dinner and head back to the studio to finish off the date.

So it was sushi in our work clothes and back to gessoing after a quick stop to grab a treat. We had a blast! One of the best dates ever....I now felt the support I needed and wanted but hadn’t known how to get before. We were facing it together! He was excited to be able to help me in such a tangible way and I was so much happier with the way the canvases were turning out. I did some drawing while he gessoed and then I revisited the interview I had begun conducting about his perspective on deployment two weekends ago (more on that later).

Working side by side.

Sunday we were able to finish the third and final coat as we worked together! This is massive. And overwhelming. Barely-fits-in-my-studio. And that in itself is important to the message. No one facing deployment/separation should face it alone. Don't minimize it, no matter the length. Gone is gone.  Find community for the good days and for the not-so-good-days, when you want to just lay on the floor in your mess. My good friend always reminds me, "You must get out of your house or the four walls will close in on you." (Even if it is only to your mailbox.) Wherever you are on this journey of life, there will be insurmountable obstacles. Please don't try to face them alone. Reach out, invite someone to dinner (so you will actually cook like you love to) or go out to eat (try a new place or an old favorite). I have learned that I can't save too many things for when he returns home (sometimes we just repeat or highlight) or else I don't live in the meantime. So I watch the movie with friends or I make a new friend, I try a new hobby.....this is how I got into documenting my kids’ lives. It helps me feel connected and reminds me of all the good times we had together, even when the bed is cold and empty.
 

Today I am making the most of the days that we have together in the same place, so when the day comes that I can't just call him back to ask for help, he already knows I am for him. And that I need him. Invest in the love that can stretch the miles.