Plans for The New Year

I love old things, textiles, antiques, rusty metal, old photographs, etc. I also love minimalism. This is the story of my life. I go back and forth between the two. Somehow, there must be a place in the middle where the two can meet, a great juxtaposition. I think that is my task for this coming year.

As I was doing dishes yesterday, daydreaming, I was reminded of my love of porcelain enamel, of fold forming and of copper. My first explorations in enamel were with white porcelain enamel and sgraffito. My daydreaming also lead me to recall a time in life when my mother asked me if I had any other color in my closet but white. I have strayed from white in all manner, but I sense it is a time to come back to it. White is the perfect canvas for self expression. I think it has something to say to me. I love its simplicity, but it can also tell a story, like a well worn doily or piece of clothing, yellowed over time, tattered and torn.

The year 2020 will be my year of white, in its many forms. It will also be a year to share with you what I can learn by diving deep, focusing on creating that juxtaposition between telling a story and keeping it simple. I want to bring life to my work this year. That is my biggest goal!

I wish you all an amazing New Year. May it bring you clarity and peace!

With a few days off and a semi-clean house, I have had time to reflect on this past year and what I hope for in the coming year…

Every year I tell myself that I am going to take some time to find myself, and by that I mean, to find who I am as an artist.

Never having been classically trained as an artist, I have learned through exploration, through classes and reading and searching the internet. I have tried so many different mediums throughout my lifetime and it has brought me to this point in my life where I have to ask, what is my focus? Who am I as an artist? Do I have a story to tell? What is my style? What is my medium?

Dreams of Flying

Have you ever had a dream about flying?  I've been having them all of my life.  I don't recall when they started.  Maybe it was after a weekend camping trip my family took to the White Mountains in Northern New Hampshire.  We went up to see a friend of my folks hang glide.  Ever since then, I've wanted to fly.  At least that's my first recollection. I've always had a fascination and love of birds, so who knows which came first...

Dreams of Flying

What's weird about my flying dreams is that I am always inside a house or other building.  I can jump up and soar around the room, but I've never dreamed about flying outdoors.  There's always been a ceiling there holding me in.  I'm sure a psychologist could make some assumptions about it.  It probably has something to do with a fear of some kind - like a fear of flying to a new height, metaphorically speaking.  Anyway, I feel like I'm getting ready to make an outside flight.  I feel like I'm ready to jump outside of myself in some new way.

I got some news today that is pushing me in a new direction - more than I'm pushing myself right now.  It feels like too much, but it doesn't at the same time.  Sometimes we need a little push.  I've been feeling kind of restless about my work.  I've been wanting to take my paintings to a new level.  I've been doing more each day in my home studio, knowing that if I want to get good at this, I've got to do it more.  I've got some thinking to do over the next few days.  I'm hoping that I'll get some answers in my dreams...