Starting Fresh

Charity is Sexy

I'm still working away at my projects for the Dancers 4 Cancer event. This will hopefully be the women's T-Shirt design. I hand drew it and then have struggled to clean it up with my mouse. Blending technology with hand done artwork is such an exciting way to create.

Cook without a Kitchen

An artist without a studio is like a cook without a kitchen.

I was just outside photographing my work and racing against the thunder and rain. I think I got most of them thankfully because the coming weather is all rain rain rain!

Art & Fear

I feel the heat from the impending double art shows. I can't believe the first time I try and show my work for several years, I end up with two shows in the same month.

Some would call that crazy.

I call it extra crazy because I'm such a slow and methodic painter.

Two art shows at the same time means two entire bodies of work that need to be completed ASAP. Working over Christmas was out because so many other things need to get done and of course being a mom zaps tons of time. Now I'm trying to catch up which means painting 24/7.

Here's a page from my sketchbook which contains my scribbling thought processes in creating my final paintings.


When I'm not wringing my hands and pacing for fear of not meeting my deadlines, I'll be posting more pages.

Sketchy

Today I was remembering how before, I used to have 8 sketchbooks on the go at any given time. I was a highly effective and accomplishing person then, and used to make meticulous notes about my day, sketches, ideas and lists.

I have been feeling the need to break out of the two sketchbooks I have on the go right now. I want something that I can just scribble in every day just for the sake of it. My first thought was to go and buy one but then I began wondering where the others I used to use were. Next thing you know I'm in my storage room and there is one box that I'm able to open on the floor.

Viola! A brand new never touched, black covered sketch book is in my hands. I faintly remembered purchasing it at some point of my post cancer medicated stupor. But next I saw the rest. The books I used to carry around with me and have in all different places in my house and van. My ideas ran so continuously that 8 notebooks could barely contain them.

So I sat on the floor crammed between the box and the wall at my back. I pulled out a book and started rediscovering my thoughts and activities in the days before cancer.


There were inspiring quotes, sketches of ideas I had accomplished and had planned for the future. There were drawings of the jewellery I used to design, furniture that I used to refinish and thumbnail sketches that became many many projects that I completed.

"The trouble with life in the fast lane is you get to the other end in an awful hurry -John Jensen", "Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there -Will Rogers", "Sanity is madness put to good uses -George Santayana". My books are teaming with quotes that are all about work and that's exactly where I was was, working like an alcoholic drinks.

"Great works are performed, not by strength but perseverance -Samual Jackson"

I took care of my 3 kids, earned the highest grades in my university classes, worked a job, all of which took up my entire day, every day. I also made time for friends and sat on my patio in the sunshine summer or winter.

As I sat with the box of books I began reading what I had written in the days leading up to my hospitalization. I remember my body was slowing down and I felt like I wasn't getting anything done so I began writing down everything I did labeling it with the time I began and stopped the activity. I started at 6:30am and didn't stop until 11:00pm at night.

As I read through this detailed minute by minute in what could have been my last moments, I felt and remembered a lot of what I had forgotten. It felt like I was looking through a window right back in to my past. There were notes from friends, email addresses, and phone numbers of the people who I knew then. My paintings were here and there in various exhibitions, some of them whom my classmates had curated. It's just so apparent how right my life was for me at that point.



I met some critical people for furthering my career, had them waiting for coffee dates and lunches ready and willing to mentor me.

My last daily entry was March 14th, 2006. Strangely the last two days of entries consisted of a list of things I tried to do those days. I was unknowingly too ill to do anything yet kept trying and was just spinning my wheels.

"-tried to read in Cook St"
"-tried to buy Charlotte's paintings"
"-tried to take photos of the tree painting"
"-wrote second draft of MBA letter"

There were also lots of notes about preparing and applying for my MBA. Then the entries went silent. My last entry was about 11 or 12 days before I put my brushes down at school and went home to die. Only I didn't know I was dying.

The next lists and notes were about cancer. As I switched over from painting every day, to self documentation through photography, I had written about what that process meant to me. I had found myself in the middle of something I was completely unprepared for. I felt that what the world put out about going through cancer was a false romanticism. The reality of it was like nothing anyone should ever have to go through...

yet this is life and shit happens.

It is fascinating to see what my moments were like at those times and the brutality of it does not make remembering it sad. It feels comforting in fact. Those moments were something that I was missing from my memory and I'm glad to have them back. And who knew it would be as easy as looking into a box?



It feels like a piece of me is back again.

And now, here I sit with the blank sketch book. The one thing I can trust is that it contains my future.

Painters in the Wild

So, one of my goals is to attend more festivities that are going on in the city around me. I struggle with fatigue a lot and often don't feel like leaving the house but being stagnant isn't good for anybody.

The real tip off that you're at home too much is when your best friend lovingly refers to you as, "the shut in".

When you've been knocked out of commission for over 4 years it's not such a simple task to slide back into society. After trying and failing multiple times, from exhaustive crashes and a sometimes lengthy recovery periods, I've decided that it's a series of small steps. I'm more of a jump in or go home type of person, so this is a big thing to admit to myself.

Victoria in the summer is a magical kind of places with more festivities than you could shake a intricately carved stick at. If you leave the house, you can't help but trip over bands, art and dancing.

One of my favourite activities of the year is always going to the Moss St Paint-In. I never miss it (unless hospitalized, of course) I would drive for over an hour when I lived farther away but this year I live walking distance from it so I grabbed my parasol and off I went.


There are 150 artists lining the street and 35,000-ish people who come to see them. Despite that many people cruising the picturesque length of rd, it is very serene with the occasional musician dotting the path. All are amazing and all are unique. Here are some of my favourites, please check out their websites.

Above is painter Martin Manchacek working on a painting of Victoria's Blue Bridge.


Sharlene Stushnov Lee.




Robert Randall (above) is someone who I lookout for every year.

Tony Hunt who I can't quite find a site for.




Peter Allen (above). I have the same socks.

Blu Smith



Chin Yuen (above)


Derek Ford photographer (above), who took this photo of me and my parasol.



John Marston, Northwest Coast Salish Carver

Girl with the most beautiful voice. Unfortunately I didn't catch her name.

The colours even ran underfoot.



At the end of the road is the newly re-named, Salish Sea, and the snow capped, Rocky Mountains. This is where the art lovers rested before heading back up the street to see everything else.

Fire Alice Remix

I'm very inspired by hooping videos but so far this one is my favourite. The melding of all the Alice imagery with the fire hooping is stunning and intriguing, especially with the music that goes with it. Wonderful! This is just wonderful!



I recommend hitting the full screen option.

Escape to Banksy

Just posting a wee bit of escapism. Banksy is one of my favourite artists of all time. His work has a lot to do with the spaces they are painted in and that might not be able to be seen well in this video because the clips are so short. I'd recommend his book that is full of his images... I have it and I love it. The great thing about this Youtube video is that there are new things that I haven't seen yet. You should also check out his site, here's the link.



I wish I was Banksy or at least had as much impact and genius as he does in one finger. I feel very inspired watching this and it makes me feel like there is hope in hanging on even when that little flickering thought of, 'why?', crosses my mind. The message scrawled on the wall at 1:41 is particularly moving for me. I would love to see the painting of the little girl with the red balloon floating away with my own eyes. That would be amazing upon amazing.

One foot in front of the other, step by step, that's how anything has ever been accomplished. I'm sure this journey will mean something.

I'm going to sleep happily tonight because tomorrow is another day and that's not always a bad thing.

Neighborhood Art Walk

I've been suffering some serious cabin fever since the H1N1 reared it's pinhead and was well enough today to go for a walk. Since I haven't actually bonded with my 10 month or so new neighborhood I decided to take in the sights that are all around my home. Since I've been here I've realized this place is like no other I've seen before. Out of necessity I've traded the woods and wildlife I crossed paths with everyday for... other things.


In this new place I seem to be surrounded by oddities of human nature. Expressions of self on this man made terrain.


Philosophers wax poetic on concrete, anarchists speak with paint, sharpies author introspection, politics are pictorial and wool replaces words.


Kind of wild.

























The one above is very political against the Olympics and a slew of other things all wrapped up into one mural. Very creative message to the people.







My neighborhood reminds me that art doesn't need canvas or university degrees. It's our very breath.