A Little Slow

After years of working on art, I realize I am not a genius. It’s ok to be a little slow. Sometimes the only way I can get something done is to do it slowly. With my cello students, we slow down the challenging parts until the rough edges wear down and things are more polished. If things are not clear, I can slow down and pay closer attention. The speeding up happens in a natural way when I’m ready.

Sometimes time slows down. Especially when doing something new. So many new neural connections happening - my brain is stretched! I can only bite off little pieces - an hour here, two hours there. I try to visit my work often throughout the week and keep the momentum.

Slow grows. There’s a slow accumulation of time and energy that builds into something great. Over time, the new and challenging things become skills at the ready. And the snowflake has become a rolling snowball gathering momentum. I look around my studio and feel grateful this body of work now exists!

How do you go slow and grow?

Love or Fear?

It hit me in the heart like an arrow of pure truth.

“There are two ways to master an art - through love or through fear.”

A dear friend shared this quote with me on a hike to the Buddha Rocks at Shoshoni. So many years I had fear motivating my work. On a subtle level, I related to my teacher with inferiority and my peers with hostility. My learning process was sabotaged by my inner critic. It was hard to be with myself creatively.

And now, as the dust has cleared from this exploded illusion, the open space is full of love. How to go about developing my work with love? Marinate in love and gratitude for my life and creative opportunities each morning. Dedicate the merit of my work to the benefit of others. Shake off negative states of mind and see them as passing storms. Release my grip on how things should be and give them space to grow and be as they are.

How do you do your work with love?

Epic in Increments

When I was new to making art regularly, a good friend asked me if I would make large paintings of my subjects. I had been making 12" x 16" paintings and I told her it felt like all I could handle at the time!

I had to get a handle on what I could handle, and then scale up from there.

Scaling up happens in a sweet spot somewhere between what I can handle and what is completely beyond me. Like the Buddha's insight  about the Middle Way listening to the musician on the river: "if you tighten the string too much it will break, if it is too loose it will make no sound."  

​I have a tendency to want the next level of epic growth RIGHT NOW! Damnit!  Forcing things can do more harm than good, breaking the string. I am learning that my growth feels more like a slow cooker.

Scaling up is also contagious. Hanging out with people who are bigger than I am in the areas I wish to expand. Maybe they'll give me a ride in their airplane...

I'm scaling up with a new painting: taking things larger, trying a few new techniques that are stabilized by methods I have been working on. Scaling up with a good foundation.

How do you scale up?

Grateful for the Crux

“What if this is the crux?” I asked myself as Deepak and I went through our morning workout. Again and again I asked just a little more of myself.

The crux is the hardest part of the rock-climbing route, or anything that we do. It is often the point of no return. Once you make it through the crux, the end is in sight. And there could be more than one.

Sometimes I am in the crux all day long.

In working, in playing, in loving, in living – if we are really doing it, we will come up to the crux.

The crux brings me face to face with my perceived limits. But I take a break - take a breath - and a solution is here. Usually it is an inner solution of clarity and release, a subtle shift.

This is exactly the process for a breakthrough. And it all started by getting to the crux.

Temporary Struggle

I worked on a painting yesterday and it was a very long two hours of effort. For most of that time, I wasn’t thrilled with what I saw on the canvas but I kept working at it to work things out. At the end, I got some space from the painting and the rocks came into view. Ahhh.

The other day I was looking at one of my favorite paintings and remembering the challenge of working through the details. I spent 4+ hours on Kelly’s face – a two-inch square area. I’m pretty sure I cried that afternoon.

But all that struggle is gone now. In its place is a beautiful painting. I love looking at it every day and continue to see something new. And I feel so lucky that I was part of bringing this art into being.

Chill with the Chaos

Things usually look like hell for a large part of the painting process. Especially portraits - everyone looks old and blotchy. Not suitable for public viewing. A bystander might nod and hum in sympathy that I am working so hard at something so crappy.

I heard a great quote - "if you are going through hell, keep going." I can really relate this to my spiritual growth and to the process of making art. One of my art and meditation friends said that she will put at least one mark on her painting everyday.

The "in-between" phase of the process is actually where all the magic is setting in. Things feel unfamiliar because our brains are stretching and new neural pathways are forming. It is a journey into pure possibility and being a vehicle for creative energy.

Interestingly, I have made paintings more by rote, where the process is clear and the in-between wasn't a challenge. And these paintings lacked the magic and refinement. They almost felt like cartoons of a painting.

The more time I spend in the in-between, the more comfortable and relaxed I am navigating this new terrain.

What do you do in-between?

Making art is not easy

A common misconception is that the experience of making art should feel like experiencing a finished work of art - refinement, release, beauty, revelation. Actually, it is challenging to do creative work and bring something into the world that wasn't here before.

It was comforting to hear Malcolm Gladwell's consideration of artistic refinement in his podcast last year (Listen here: http://revisionisthistory.com/episodes/07-hallelujah). He talks about Cezanne working on the same subject repeatedly for greater refinement, often with a lot of dissatisfaction propelling the process. Gladwell also explores how a piece - the song Hallelujah - was brought into its fullness by a number of artists working together over decades. Art takes time!

Working at the dining room table at Cambridge Woodfired Pottery.  

One of the primary dead-ends to being creative is waiting until I feel like making art. I find that I have to dive into the work itself and make the act of working the reason to be there. This relates to the practice of yoga described in the Bhagavad Gita:

"To action alone hast thou a right and never at all to its fruits; let not the fruits of action be thy motive; neither let there be in thee any attachment to inaction."

The real "work" of art, and the work of growing, involves going into the unknown. For me, it feels more like bushwhacking through the wilderness of my resistance and fear, and less like receiving sprinkles of easy inspiration and pixie dust ;)

What does the process feel like for you?

A work of lifestyle

As we prepare to move back to Colorado, Kelly is wrapping up his apprenticeship with Mark Skudlarek at Cambridge Pottery. It has been amazing to live on Tranquil Lane (not kidding) and experience the seasons of life in the pottery.

Mark is a production potter, which means that he makes functional pieces for daily life. His showroom includes: mugs, plates, lamps, casseroles, his famous 'chicken-bricks,' beer steins, planters, large-scale vessels, treasure boxes for your dresser...

Large vessels, a mug, and the kiln in the background - all by Mark

Speaking of one of his pottery mentors, Warren McKenzie, Mark articulates that the 'work-of-art' in pottery is the entire lifestyle, facility and process:

• Making clay and glazes from raw materials
• Chopping and stacking wood for home and kiln
• Turning pots (as Mark likes to say)
• The wood firing, a 5-day process that happens twice a year producing a few thousand pots.
• Home, family and community who gather around the pottery and its events

This process is called the production cycle and flows with the seasons, culminating in a tour in fall and spring. When someone takes home a piece of pottery, it becomes part of their life and they continue this creative process.

It has felt natural to practice meditation as we have lived with Mark in his artisan lifestyle for this year. Many days, I would bring my easel into the workshop and paint alongside the potters.

We leave Tranquil Lane with a bittersweet sigh and a sense of gratitude as we say farewell for now to Mark and the boys. We will take methods and inspiration for pottery, life and art with us into our next chapter.

Check out Mark's work at www.cambridgepottery.com

Ganesh and Writer's Block

What does it take to move through blocks in your creative projects? In yourself?

Ganesh writing Mahabharata (2014)

The image of Ganesh holding his tusk will always stir my soul. He broke it off during a non-stop writing project, to keep his commitment to write even when his pen broke. Ganesh and the sage Vyasa had a deal - as long as Vyas told his story, Ganesh would transcribe. This story is told in the Mahabharata, an ancient Indian epic.

This was one of the first paintings I made while living at Shoshoni Yoga Ashram. It was incredible how many creative blocks - self-doubt, criticism, fear - showed up during the process! As the lord of obstacles, Ganesh embodies the energy of moving around and through blocks. A key thing here is MOVING - keep momentum in any form. In this and many of my paintings, there is flowing water in the background to indicate creative flow.

I heard recently that when Einstein had a block in his scientific work, he would stop and play the violin. This strategy allowed him to create a flow in another outlet and then infuse it into his work.

As a meditator, I find that blocks in my work are related to a block in myself. I am so lucky for my meditation training at Shoshoni that I know how to look within, take a conscious breath, and release the tensions in me that block my flow.

How do you flow through your creative blocks?

Are you creating or consuming?

Were you born and raised in consumer culture? Me too. It feels like  I have to carve my creative self out of a dense consumer shell. Sometimes my desire to have a milkshake and be a couch potato is so strong!

For me, creativity is stepping up to my life. It is not a one-time job. Each new day craves creative effort. I find that an uphill feeling is the norm, and a downhill ride is a treat! And so is the occasional milkshake ;)

Sometimes being creative is expansive, easy and revelatory, other times it is like an ox plowing the field – slow methodical digging that does not appear to end. But it does, and then you have a breakthrough!

So many things we do can be creative:

• Listening and being present with someone
• Making food and house cleaning
• Running a business and working with focus
• Exercise
• Relationships and parenting
• And last but not least, MAKING ART!

What do you do to be creative?

It's time to break the rules

Sometimes I'm just dying under the weight of these rules. Not anyone else's rules - my stupid rules. The boundaries I place on myself. The rigid definitions and impossible principles that are holding me back in my creativity and happiness.

Elizabeth Gilbert had a great metaphor about this in her book Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear (Highly recommended!). She talks about the martyr and the trickster. The martyr puts themselves on a pedestal of principles where they are bound and tied, a clear target and easy shot. The trickster, however, sneaks around, seeks out the opening in a situation, and has fun in the process. Gilbert talks about the martyr on the front lines dying for their cause while the trickster starts a profitable black market on the sides of the battle.

It's time for this martyr to break the rules and get a little tricksy. Here are some rules I broke recently and had a BREAKTHROUGH in my art:

 1. Don't make the same painting twice.  From left to right, a copy of the tiny bamboo bookmark that inspired the paintings, first version 2014 and second version 2017.

 2.  Don't copy someone else's painting. Top row: Robert Beer's Milarepa drawing and Faith Stone's. Bottom row: unknown Milarepa thangka and my thangka.

3.  Don't paint from photographs. My photo on left the inspired the painting on right. I have also copied a Georgia O'Keefe painting in the background ;)

How have you broken YOUR rules lately? 

Who is Milarepa?

Milarepa Listening painting is complete! Read more to learn more about this great Tibetan yogi and how his journey relates to you.

Who is Milarepa?
Milarepa was a 7th century practitioner in Tibet who became enlightened after many years of practice under his teacher Marpa. Milarepa worked through incredibly dense karma of having killed people by doing hard physical work for his teacher (building and unbuilding stone houses seven times). At one point, he did leave his teacher because he couldn’t take the heat. After that, he did a long retreat in the wilderness, pictured here in this painting, and attained his enlightenment. I found a lot of hope in this that I can become enlightened too, and a lot of gratitude that I have a teacher to support me in the process.

Milarepa holds hand to ear in the gesture of listening to his teacher. This is a quality I aspire to on a daily basis – to listen to and absorb the teachings. My teacher has often spoken of the state of being present like a soap bubble, you have to be focused and relaxed to maintain it. Milarepa’s nimbus or halo is like a soap bubble and mini abstract painting within a painting.

As I have painted this while living in Madison, one day I noticed Milarepa is sitting on an isthsmus! The landscape is a merging of Madison and Colorado as the wilderness background shows Long’s Peak and Mt. Meeker. In thangka painting, the landscape is stylized and perfected overall, which speaks to the enlightened view where everything is illuminated.

In Milarepa’s sweet face, I can see my baby nephew Ember who I have spent a lot of time with recently. Behind Milarepa is a cooking fire and pottery vessel, a reference to wood-fired pottery that my husband makes.

References for this piece include Milarepa Thangka by Faith Stone and Milarepa drawing by Robert Beer.

Part of the Creative Process

Through making art as part of my lifestyle, I see recurring stages in the creative process. It has helped me to see these stages happening so I can stay in the flow and move through the harder parts of the process. These steps translate to many creative areas  in my life: business, relationships, fitness, yoga and meditation.

1.     Ideas and inspiration – this part is easy! There are so many possibilities and inspiration feels uplifting overall. If I have a block about what to make, it is important to choose something to do even if it is a compromise. You can always do another painting. I usually save inspiring images on my phone or hang them around my studio for my later projects.

2.     Begin the project – This can be challenging because the vastness of inspiration is being funneled into something concrete. Over time, I have learned how to begin a project to the point that this has a flow. It is just one step at a time:

a.     Gather supplies and references

b.     Sketch and transfer images

c.      Paint flat colors in the painting – this part is so fast and gratifying!

3.     Development and refinement – Definitely the uphill part of the process! Usually, I don’t already have the skills to do what I envision, so I have to learn and earn those skills. The first part of this process is somewhat grueling, and then as the skills become stronger, the process accelerates and is easier to complete. In general, I paint from the background to the foreground. This generates momentum because the background is usually larger than the foreground. Also, I am usually more excited about painting the subject or foreground: it is like eating your veggies and having dessert later. :)

4.     Refinement and completion – This phase usually has a downhill momentum as the steps that need to be completed are clear. Details often take more time than I was expecting, but it is a clear process. For me, finishing a painting is usually quick and anti-climactic in a good way.

5.     Hang and enjoy – Now you get to live with the art! Or give it to someone else to live with. It has a life of its own. I will usually notice things that can be improved, but I try to relax with this saying: “finished, not perfect.” The creative energy of this process lives in the painting and inspires the next wave in my life.

How do you experience creative process in your life?