Stretching.

I felt embarrassed as I walked up with my three new art pieces for the juried art exhibition. My excitement of making something new and out of my comfort zone quickly vanished into a strange self-consciousness I haven't felt with my art recently.

It is a great local show with great cash prizes. The theme of the show was "Roots." The prospectus wanted the artist to stretch the meaning of roots to family origin, history, root cause...I chose the simple and direct earth-focused approach. I was excited about the theme and felt inspired.

I had been dreaming of going 3-D with encaustic, but struggling with the right material for the wax to adhere to and then it came to me three days before the event. I was playing again. I wasn't going back to a familiar formula.

I made the mistake of showing people the first piece unfinished and by cell phone photograph. What was I thinking? I was excited but too fragile to take their pregnant pause following such statements as "Does this dress highlight my pot-belly?" *Pause, nice smile...searching for the right words* Ugh, it does! I hate this dress. I hate my hair. I'm ugly. I will never get married.

Prior to entering any show I always research the juror. If they are an artist, I check out their work. If they are a curator I check out the shows they have curated and the show themes of their museum or art center. It is usually an easy way for me to decide if my $35 entry fee is an investment or donation. I wasn't sure about this juror. His artwork was not in the family of mine, but I stretched on these pieces and it would be a shame to shelf them.

All three pieces were accepted. Whew.



Earth's Armature - Encaustic, 8" x 8"

The opening came and a good friend said he would be my date. So, we went, mingled and then it happened. I received puzzled looks and awkward, "This work seems like a drastic departure from your usual work." I was mortified and embarrassed. Apologetically I said I was trying something new. I kept thinking I should have kept to the formula. The formula sells and that is what people like.

An old friend came up to me and said something in the same vein, but was excited. He said, "This must have been so freeing for you. You were able to take artistic risks because you have won this show and don't have to prove anything." That was definitely one way to look at it and I'm thankful he made me look in that direction.

The awards ceremony came and my name wasn't called. I am happy to report that my ego survived, did not throw an internal tantrum and stood aside to appreciate the artistic talent recognized for the evening.

What I learned:
Take artistic risks. If you find yourself looking at your old work or work that sells as inspiration for your next piece you are heading toward formula art. I'm a fan of recognizing the hand of an artist and not a fan of recognizing the same visual tricks of an artist.

I still struggle with the difference (is there one?) of decorative art and fine art. Am I painting to match wallpaper or painting for the intellect. I'm pretty sure I have done both.

Chances are that if you make a leap in your artwork you are making a leap somewhere else in your life. I have made some drastic changes in my personal life. It only makes sense that it shows up in my work too.

What do you do to stretch artistically? How do you know that you have actually stretched? What do you see, hear or feel that lets you know you have pushed yourself?

My improvisational theatre teacher says, "Go in the direction you are facing." On the stage, a scene isn't interesting when it becomes transactional or the characters don't change. Artwork needs to make shifts, change and move to keep your audience watching and most importantly keep you interested.

The wheels go round and round.

I'm going on 6 weeks without a car. I've been biking my butt off. It should be coming off soon. I blew out my back tire when I piled on two sacks of groceries and my ass. I'm just guessing that is what happened, but secretly hoping it was a nail.

Yesterday, I road home from work in the rain. I put on this giant blue tarp of a poncho and belted it with a bungee cord. I felt like a wind sail pedaling hard against the wind and any minute I would be airborne. I passed a long line of cars with drivers looking grumpy and grim. Grinning like a goof, I was hoping I would get at least a thumbs up or a encouraging honk. It IS bike month! Nope, nothing. I only passed two people on the usually very busy bike path. I rang my bike bell and waved enthusiastically. I received the "What the hell are we doing on our bikes?" grin. I told everyone I road in the rain and received little to no sympathy. Yes, I do believe I deserve a medal.

Biking to work tips:
1. Roll your work clothes to keep them from being a wadded, wrinkled mess when you get to work.
2. Take sunscreen and apply liberally 30 minutes prior or you will end up with a crooked V-shaped sunburn on your chest.
3. Go to the bathroom before you leave because it is usually a long way home.
4. Learn to change a bike tire.
5. Take rain gear, but don't count on it keeping you dry.
6. Know the bus schedules just in case you are just plain tired of pedaling.

Just some harmless butt wagging.

Last Saturday I was driving down I-5 to Los Angeles for my Improvisation class at the Second City training center. I was happily bopping along in my car rental (due to a recent car crash) and thoroughly enjoying the Sirius radio station by singing along to Erasure, Depeche Mode and the Indigo Girls. I was breaking the chains of love and getting closer to fine in my very hip mini-van.



Oblivious only for a moment, I catch a glimpse of flesh in the corner of my eye. A group of boys were driving beside me with their butts hanging out of each window and enthusiastically spanking them for my benefit. I chuckled but instantly turned my face to stone and did a very motherly, "I'm so disappointed in you" head shake. That was my response? Didn't I have a cooler response readily available? Should I have rated the butts with a thumbs up or thumbs down? Should I have acted like I was phoning 911 to report nude butt wagging on I-5? Nope, all I had was a stinkin' head shake.

But actually, I don't just have a head shake in me...I have much, much more...yes, I have an art sale going on too!

So, pull those pants up and get on over to my online store!

I am selling the Ohio Grouping work as single pieces. If you are insterested in the whole group let me know.

Bean Pimp

At the early age of twelve I was a working girl. Instead of working the streets, I worked the soybean fields. With a pair of tweezers, a Dixie cup and two carpet squares I went to work for just over $3.00 per hour.

For seven summers I clocked in early each day at Funk’s Seed Hybrid Company. In the morning we walked soybeans and in the afternoon we pollinated soybeans. For those city folk, walking beans meant we weeded acres of soybean fields with a sharpened hoe.

In the afternoon we pollinated soybeans. The purpose of hand pollination was to control the soybean plant crosses and create a soybean hybrid with strength and resistance to disease.

The romancing of the soybeans started with a quick session of speed dating. The crew boss created a list of male soybean rows and a list female soybean rows that required a relationship and romance coach. With tweezers in hand, I trotted off to the male row, also known as the pollen parent, and picked a Dixie cup full of small purple or white soybean flowers. This was a quick and aggressive process and a gentle hand was not required.

The true finesse began with the female row, also known as the seed parent or the mother plant. I placed my carpet squares down in the dirt and lowered into a sitting position, straddling the chosen female soybean plant. I examined the plant nodes for a ripe and bulbous bud. My voice lowered and my touch became gentle because the ladies were just that, ladies. With my tweezers I peeled back the sepals, the outer layer of the bud, to reveal the inner folds of the flower. My tweezers grasped the soft base and wiggled it free to expose the fragile sweetness of the awaiting pistil. From my Dixie cup, I selected a flower and stripped away the petals presenting a stamen heavy with pollen. With a steady hand, I gently, so very gently dabbed the tip of the stamen on the tip of the female’s stigma. With a quiver, the pollen would release and cover the female’s womanhood with its sticky residue. I cooed, “take it baby, take it!” hoping my words would encourage fertilization. A week later, I checked all my pollinations to see if my manual mating was a success. My goal was to create the highest number of successful unions each summer. During harvest time, we hand collected the soybean offspring and planted them the following year for scientific testing.

I’m not embarrassed of my seedy past. For seven summers I sat in the dirt straddling soybeans. I blossomed from a child to a young woman. I learned about life. I created life. Some folks called us bean pimps. Maybe we were, but I felt more like a matchmaker and a cultivator of connections. I was a soybean artist.

The Bee Team!

I pity the fool who says the A Team finishes first. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them (I hope this blog helps), maybe you can hire the BEE Team. (I know...my TV reference is dating me!)

The BEE Team is a group of artists that have come together through the online store Etsy.com where you can buy or sell all things handmade. Etsy has turned out to be a great meeting place of super talented artists making a living selling direct and promoting themselves through an established online community.

If you are a collector of art, check out the amazing list of artist working in encaustic.
Such as:
Michele Maule
Shannon Newby
Kate Phillips
Deanna Woods

If you are an artist are interested in working in encaustic, the BEE Team Blog gives you:

• Working with photographs and encaustic

• Call for encaustic art

• Encaustic class offerings

• Resources

I pity the fool that doesn't look, make, and buy art. If you need help, call the BEE Team!

I can't stop singing this song.

Hamster On A Piano


This is art, right? I know, I promised more arty and meaningful posts but this is all I got right now.

I recommend the following to get the hamster song out of your head:

How long has it been?

Life has been a bit of a twirl since the art show at the Bakersfield Museum of Art. As some of you may know, I have a day job as an internal leadership development coach and advisor. Outside of my day job I am an artist, a small business consultant and coach, improvisor and sometimes blogger. As you can see I have been slacking on the blogging and keeping you updated on the newest art projects and random musings.

List of things that have gone and are going on:

• I was accepting to The Second City Training Center's improvisation conservatory. I am just finishing up conservatory one and heading on to two in January.
  
• Next week I am hanging a show at Valentien's in Bakersfield.
• I am finishing writing up a grant for a local art project.
• Currently, I am being psychically and physically stalked by an ex-girlfriend of a man I am dating. (Had a lovely Springeresque midnight moment on my lawn. Yep, it is true!)
• My Ohio gallery had to shut their doors.
• I finished another coaching certification to teach the class Corporate Coach U. I am planning on offering classes mid-2009.
• I am hoping to be vegetarian by 2009. I am slowly transitioning.
• I have been posting too many pictures of my cats on my Facebook and Myspace accounts.
• I'm thinking...just thinking of taking a hip hop dance class. If you know me...this is funny.
  
• My next blog will be more interesting than this one.

Non-perfunctory posts promised period.