Girl in the Garden

The soaring temperatures, mild winter and seemingly early onset of Spring brought about a delicious agony. I love to have my hands in dirt and paint (never together~ well not since that diorama I did about agriculture in 7th grade) and the soil has been workable nearly all year long. The delicious part is the sun warming the soil and buds swelling above me with the delightful sounds of birds siting their territories and nests. Rosie has become a good "farm dog" so I can have her with me whenever and wherever I am working and with the use of chain saws and felling of damaged branches she has a pretty good understanding of how to stay out of danger, although we are still very cautious. Donna has been reading and reviewing organic farming articles in preparation for the growing season and I couldn't be happier. I can practically taste the sweet crunch of raw peas out of their shell and feel the tomato juice slip down my chin as I sink my teeth into that first beefsteak tomato sandwich of late summer. My father and Donna never have enough corn and hopefully we will have better luck with this year's variety, "Gotta Have It". Last year's corn crop was terrible for numerous reasons.

The agony is more about a girl's long path to self-determination. I want nothing more than to please my father and nothing more than to put decades worth of gardening ideas and new knowledge into practice. Those are somewhat mutually exclusive goals. The older gardener wants things to stay the same. Crop rotation? Phooey! Reduce the square footage of growing area? Why? The younger gardener is a known perfectionist with multiple books and the internet in use for reference. Both love the sights, smells and tastes of gardening and that is where I will have to try and stay...on common ground.

When I Swallowed the Story

When the Earth Swallowed the Moon  March 2012

 At long last I finally finished a piece based on a personal myth I have been working with for months. The actual mixed media piece took about 20 hours over the last several days. It feels like I started the story ages ago but for some reason, despite a very mild winter, my pace been glacial. I was talking with my friend Nancy a week ago and made yet another reference to yet another thing impacted by the October surprise snowstorm (I think the damn thing was named "Alfred") and she laughed and reminded me that the storm was 4 1/2 months ago. I did not need reminding. In fact, I was temporarily not amused. I have effectively been wallowing in self pity pretty much since then and nothing slows time like self pity. Actually the storm-related funk began with the water drenched remnants of hurricanes Irene and Lee. Once I realized that I actually did, at long last, start laughing at myself.

rough sketch for underground moon piece

After the rain but before the snowstorm I was preparing for Open Studio at ArtSpace and purchased a frame I liked for signage. Because of the heavy snow that led to the bonk on the head that led to the seizure that led to the hospital that led to the medication that led to the side effects that led to...well...the self pity part gets pretty clear right about now, doesn't it? Anyway, the frame didn't get used, so I started on an 11" X 36" image to stuff inside it instead and the image with the tree above is a second attempt at filling it. Once I started drawing I became fascinated with the idea that while the sun was shining the moon was trapped underground in the tree roots, with the above ground and the under ground depicting the night and day opposites. I stopped and played dead for a while until I decided starting over was best, still with the idea of the ground swallowing the moon.

The first piece I ever did depicting both roots and above ground plants was in an etching from my high school art days, and I resurrected the idea for a very personal piece in my own collection about being buried alive. You can see how that might end up in my own collection. Selling a piece about being buried alive is a lot like selling art about environmental disasters. It doesn't happen. Still, now and then I have to make such a thing. After all, art is first a dialogue with oneself and then a dialogue with life outside of oneself.

Underground  June 2011

Finally I ended up with the smaller and more benign piece "Undergound", but the other stories kept nagging at me.

Freya and the Art Cloak

In Fall of 2010 I started a mixed media book about the Norse goddess Freya (Frejya) and her story of keeping the winged cloaks of the gods and my interpretation of her true desires. I had a grand time at the "Art Is..." conference telling the story and even selling a couple of related works. I like myths and legends as jumping off points, so I have been s-l-o-w-l-y storyboarding two other works for multiple illustration projects. But I have a question...if the myth or story starts with another culture, do I have any right to rewrite it as my own, with my own embellishments? I have collected many stories over the years and in particular two other goddess stories, both Inuit in origin. Once slightly changed each suits my own personal mythology. Do I have any right to interpret another culture's way of explaining life, even the very origin of life, to make peace with my own life? Do I have an obligation to that culture or is my greater imperative to interpret what rings true for me in a contemporary timeline?

I think if I can't get these stories and my matching imagery out of my head I owe it to myself to get them down  somehow, but should it be like the "buried alive" and "dead birds" themes...for my consumption only? Makes me go "hmmmmmmmm". What do you think?