What I See

Every morning I wake and start my daily ritual. First, I look outside my bedroom window to make sure that my car has not been stolen (habit from living in Brooklyn) nor that it hasn't been demolished over night by a drunk driver driving recklessly down my street. The second thing I do in the morning is look out at the huge pine tree across the street. Every day since moving here in June I have been meaning to draw what I see and what always makes me laugh especially on a very windy day. Today was that day. :D

What is outside
my bedroom window.

What I see.

"Intermission"
Graphite and watercolor on paper

“Play is the beginning of knowledge.”

Just Thoughts....

"The Mountain"
Acrylic on canvas board
5" x 7"

It was raining again this morning. It was hard to pull myself away from standing in it. I just stood there looking out onto the mountain while it rained on me. I couldn't help but think that this must be what a tree feels like just standing in the rain. Standing there just taking whatever elements were being thrown at them. I stood taking the element in and questioning how the hell I got here on this plot of land and why and what was my purpose now? But that's when it occurred to me; this is what trees do, they just have to stand there and take whatever Mother Nature and God dish out to them and they don't question their purpose. Their purpose is to just, "be". This give and take between nature and the trees is a timeless exchange, but the difference between us and the trees is that the trees have a complete understanding of the exchange and somehow they are just able to accept it and not question which makes their existence simple and uncomplicated. To be more like a tree and accept whatever is happening is truly, truly difficult.

In my head the symphony of color began. The painting the mixing the cataloging of color, line, shape and composition. In a matter of seconds the entire scene was painted in my head and stored away. As I began this color frenzy the realization that this is not in any way shape or form normal, hit me again. It's not normal.

Some days I pray and ask why and wish that it be lifted from me in order to just be normal cause this "art thing" feels more like a curse than a gift most days. I'd like to walk in normal shoes for a while. Not sketch, paint, sculpt and draw you the moment I meet you for the first time but go about life oblivious to art. I'd like to not be so strange and in some cases, scary to people. But artists are a strange lot by nature. The very best part about going to an art college was that everyone was just as strange (some even more so) as everyone else which created an odd sense of "normalcy"

If you were up at 4 A.M. and in a creating frenzy all you had to do was open your door and find that that guy Steve was sprawled out on the floor near the elevators creating tiny little clay do-dads or drawing on packs of Post-IT notes (and he drew on EVERY note) and he did that cause, well I guess cause he had to get it out of his head and it hit him right there and then. And there he'd be with about a hundred little creations around him and anyone who walked past got one. "Here ya go!" he'd say with the happiest of smiles and you could tell his heart was filled with joy at the act of giving away a piece of himself, a piece of his heart and soul and the acceptance of that gift completed the creation fully. It's not truly complete until its given.

The best part of giving is watching people's reactions. It's also the worst some times because it's too much for some to handle. I don't know what to say to that except you probably wouldn't want to be on this end living with that urge to create, share and give in your mind and heart all the time. And I mean, all the time...even when you sleep the art invades your dreams. The small gift given was only a smear of a droplet of an ocean that is within. Imagine having the ocean within and knowing that that ocean is just a speck of a half of a smear of a droplet of an ocean from the planet within a universe from the Great Creator Himself. Why He chose to give this smear to me, I honestly don't know and on days like today I'm a bit annoyed with Him for doing so, cause on days like today it's way too powerful for me to handle, but I'm trying my best to stand as a tree does and just accept.

Nerve Grinding

Tree Hackers

The studio and house has been plagued with an awful sound. A grinding buzz of tree being sawed. The most wretched and nerve grinding sound I can think of next to a dentist's drill. My heart actually races with panic when I hear trees being cut. I have never liked it and hate it even more now that I am living in a city that seems pretty treeless as compared to my beloved PA woods.

NYC's "Million trees" campaign is apparently alive and strong. One million is a pretty large number. Lord only knows where they put A MILLION trees! It certainly wasn't on our block. They actually chopped our trees up so terrible they are ridiculous to look at. They hit the old oak down the block today and the pretty little cherry blossom.

The Pac Man Peg tree. Ridiculous!

Perhaps I'm just in a bad mood. I can see how clipping a tree in the city would be beneficial to the cars and telephone wires. There are, however, several areas in Brooklyn that never get the buzz saw. The telephone wires and cars do just fine. Actually, the cars and houses look much better with such pretty trees about. Oh, and wires are hidden. So aesthetically pleasing.

But again, I'm sure I'm just in a bad mood. After all, my mold for the China Buffet show isn't dry yet and my deadline on that is looming. My porcelain bowls took 12 hours to fire and look wonky and rough. And the cherry on top is that I have to re shoot this JAH cover of which I have no desire since my vision was Alborozo on the beach in all his glory.

They want more "story." Not sure how to give more story. I firmly believe that gorgeous Eberl mold on the beach, the waves crashing ever so slightly was the story. I firmly believe less is more in some instances. And in this instance collectors just want to see the horse. Put him in the ultimate fantasy setting every little gal dreams of (on the beach) and you have a bombshell cover. I mean, even *I* was clamoring to get a mold of him and when he arrived I totally had to go to the beach and play with him. (Yes, I still play...you have to otherwise you will grow old!) Well, I got him, but he hasn't come without a price. Being grumpy has been the worst part of his price tag. >:(