A little preface to tulip photos

On the road~



We stopped for gas and found a great drive thru espresso stand. Matt's waiting for coffee. If you look carefully on the ground you can see some of the hail we were experiencing. We were a few exits away from the tulip fields and by the time we arrived, the sun came out and it was warmer than it's been for the last 4 days.



The restrooms at Tulip Town...a very touristy but a fun kind of cheesy place. It was our first stop. After spending time there we scouted out the other fields which were fabulous.



Some guy in a funky, fuzzy hat taking in the color of the fields.



Matt and Brian heading back to the car after the final and most beautiful tulip field. The mountains still have snow.

My favorite flower~

I've been in Seattle 10 years, and finally had the opportunity to do something I've longed to do. We hit the tulip fields in Skagit County today. I shot over 470 images and hope to cull 10 good shots. It'll take me a few days...

And yes, there are a few color shots.

It's really nice when you have a moment where you can see the ancient grit and feel that this clarity, along with an ongoing intention to heal, creates a surge of movement.

One of my new paintings that hung this past First Thursday. It's 22"x28".

I was really sick last week, with the flu, and for the first time, spent 6 days away from the studio. Last Sunday I returned, and have each night since. But my energy is shot. It takes everything I have to stay there an hour. Tonight, all I did was spend time really cleaning my brushes and my table then had to get home to eat and crash. Still spent.

Maybe tomorrow I'll be more productive.

I'm sure part of it is recuperating from being sick, and the rest is emotional. A busted heart makes for a weary body. Sometimes I really wish I had magical powers and could, at a hyperspeed pace, rush time. Time heals.

But dammit, I refuse to let all this keep me down and away from work.

On love…


I've been dealing with a breakup from last September. Eight months later, although with greater awareness and new insights each week…it still doesn't feel any easier than the first moment. Just different.

To this day, not only does there remain a fair amount of disbelief that it actually happened but also what feels like unending grief. I've gone through the anger…the victim…the poor me. And I'm fairly sure there is more to come.

I am learning to forgive myself and as of yesterday, finally daring myself to remember the good and powerful times, regardless of the pain it brings.

What's made this all the more intense was I was dealing with a soul connection. We were very fortunate to find each other and connect in the way we did…an intimacy almost beyond belief. Although my shrink had mentioned how rare finding that type of connection was, I've since known his words to be true because in speaking with people, even in general terms, I've been able to tell by their reaction whether or not they've experienced that type of relationship.

Back in September the shrink said this time would be one of the hardest things I'll go through. So I strapped myself in for the ride…but had no idea. Not really. Rejection is a powerful thing. It really shakes your self-confidence…your sex…your everything. Considering my "biggest psychological problem", as he said last week, is my little bit of self-confidence, this has rocked my core. Although I've dealt with rejection before, this was the first time in my life that not only was I really seen, but fully embraced for who I am. At 47, it was the first time in my life I'd experienced that. And I knew their heart...could really see them. Until it stopped.

In that, it isn't a bad thing. Growth comes with suffering. And I've always been one to jump into the fire because I desire to keep purging and cleansing.

My little child is terribly confused, crying "why?" and "this makes no sense at all." The adult I am becoming is sure and sees beyond the surface, into the dark. Peering into the crevices gives me greater understanding and in those infrequent moments, peace and patience. One of my big challenges is to learn how to retain the childlike joy and wonder while continuing to see with the eyes of an adult.

I've said it before, and it's even truer now than then, but although I've been "in love" a few times in my life, this relationship has/is teaching me what love really is about. The tough love, the unpopular love, the love mostly shunned by our culture because it's a love that forgives, that lets go, that keeps its heart open regardless of all that is happening: love that sees fear for what it is and moves through it.

It's the love that Kahlil Gibran so powerfully wrote about:


"Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them.

And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;

And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,

Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips."


Most days it feels as if I fail miserably. I'm still writing in my intention journal. In addition to penning "my love is greater than my fear", I've added "I am causing the least amount of harm"…and still focus on my desire to live a life of grace. There is also space in the little moleskin book to allow for brutal honesty, wants and wishes.

As I wrote a month ago, I was choosing to do a photo blog for an indeterminate period of time. Words were hard. Feelings…so big inside, I'd battle with myself as to what to write about. The more I paint the more I see how painting reflects my life and how solutions to life problems come to light by resolving conflicts on canvas…and so needed the visual concentration.

On Saturday, I went to the event at Qwest Field, featuring the Dalai Lama. Although stadium acoustics created a struggle to hear all his words, one phrase not only struck me but hasn't left my consciousness. It's something I knew on the inside, yet hearing it was quite the affirmation. He was speaking of nuclear disarmament and global violence. He then said that it was important to focus on "inner disarmament".

It all begins with inner disarmament.

The last 6 years in therapy has been conscious effort to dismantle those internal walls created of fear…rage, hurt and mistrust. It is a lifelong process. And this current time, with oceans of tears shed and more to come, has been the greatest gift thus far.

This is an oil on paper I did back in 1996. It's about 12x26". I've been thinking about still life in regards to my current painting. I hope to have a fuller entry on the topic in the next few days...but can't promise anything.

Although life has been phenomenally challenging, there have been surprising connections that come when most needed. I wrote about a few of them almost a month ago. These times refuel and allow me to continue…reminders that my efforts are not in vain.

I had the most surprising surprise on Monday, March 31st. Even now, as I replay it in my head, it still feels surreal. It was a much needed gift from the universe.

That day, my heart hurt something fierce. Working at my desk, tears were pouring down my face. I couldn't stop them. The cruelty of people still astounds me. Leaving work, I wanted to go to the studio but feared the pain was too overwhelming. And yet, remaining at home was unimaginable...so painting it was.

After working a bit I hit Trattoria Mitchelli's around the corner for a $5 happy hour meal consisting of food and red wine. I sat at the bar, enjoyed my food, and wrote in my journal. It was quiet, the food was good, and did offer a little solace.

Upon returning to the studio I stopped in front of a gallery. A painting captivated me. The gallery was in the process of putting up a new show.

A man walked out. I mentioned I was struck by the piece. He laughed because he was the artist and had just hung the painting. We introduced ourselves to each other and our conversation began.

From then on, time is almost a blur.

He told me that the painting was born of loss and grief. In a very natural way, he began to speak of it. He's been suffering with a similar loss for the last two years, so he is further along with his healing journey. He spoke of how he's the type of person that even friends shy away from when he's hurting because his energy is intense enough that it seeps out everywhere.

I was struck because all his words and experiences he spoke of applied to me as well.

Then he invited me into the gallery where we sat on the floor, side by side, and continued speaking. We had the place to ourselves.

He told me how he was getting through the grief…and how he was taking care of himself. Then he added that one book assisted with keeping him sane and strong. He pulled out an old, worn hardcover book out of his bag, opened it, and began to read to me:

" Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?..."

Tears began to fall. He looked at me, put his arm around me and said "M, you can cry with me anytime."

He was reading from "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran.
"I've never read his work before."
With a smile he replied, "that's because you weren't ready to really understand its depth."

The artist continued to finish the poem on "Joy and Sorrow".

"This is another one I've been reading daily. It's about pain."

He quietly reads to me, as I'm leaning into him:

"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears."


And then he read to me about love.

The thickness of the energy in the gallery was immense. It was a healing born of shared pain. Still, over a week later, I can't describe it.

It had to be one of a handful of most magical experiences from my life thus far. When I left the gallery to return to my studio I knew it didn't matter if we never spoke again. That bit of time was perfect. Two souls powerfully connecting in their pain and understanding of each other's intensity and energy - fearlessly sharing their wounds.

After working some more, I did see him again later that evening. He ended up giving me a ride home and we've bumped into each other since then. He's come up and seen my studio, and recognized the struggle in my work along with small mystical moments.


Powerful...


If interested, you can find Gibran's work here.

It seems that my parents are getting anxious about making plans for August, which is when we are concocting a surprise weekend for their 50th anniversary. So, the idea of a jigsaw puzzle, including a first piece which would declare "save this date..." needed to change a bit. I think we'll still do the puzzle, but needed to make them aware of the dates now.

Also, we've booked rooms and suites at the hotel. They will be surprised.

Today I whipped up a cheesy little ditty that my sibs will singsong to my parents at the next family dinner. If you're a poetry hound just close your eyes and skip over.

Please save the date
You'll need to wait
It's August 8 thru 10
We'll say more soon
Before this June
But not sure exactly when

A surprise is in store
You both we adore
So here is a mystery.
Clues here and clues there
For something we'll share
In refreshing scenery


Regarding my life...I've been very busy - inside and out. I thought I'd be posting a few things that I've been working on, such as some powerful insights, but they need to stay in draft form. I haven't had the clarity or time to go back and tackle much.

There's a draft of a short story waiting for me to read. The author asked me if I'd be interested in illustrating his piece.

Friday I'm attending a panel discussion - "The Scientific Basis for Compassion: What We Know Now with His Holiness the Dalai Lama." From the website:

His Holiness the Dalai Lama is joined by a panel of leading researchers to discuss the quantitative benefits of compassion. Moderated by Daniel Goleman, author of “Emotional Intelligence”
Panelists:
Richard Davidson, Director, Laboratory of Affective Neuroscience
Alicia Lieberman, President, Board of Directors, Zero to Three
Daniel J Seigel, Author of "The Mindful Brain" and "Parenting from the Inside Out"
Andrew Meltzoff, Co-Director, UW Institute for Learning and Brain Sciences


Saturday afternoon is the large event at Qwest field. Tickets were free for all 5 days of events with the Dalai Lama, except for the Friday night benefit concert with Dave Matthews.

Sadly, folks are scalping the free tickets on Craigslist and Ebay. There's a serious ick factor in that.

Painting is...going. Some good. Some bad. I'm seriously struggling with self-confidence and of course it shows itself in the work as well as in my life.

In the last few months, it's been made very clear to me, in many ways, by many different people, that if I were less intense, less deep, more bubbly, or...if I were born with a different body, I wouldn't be shunned and could be loved. It's tough not to be angry about it all when it's the same song and dance I've heard my whole life. In hearing these old messages again, it brings great feelings of being ugly and unloveable. A sexual misfit. I feel uncomfortable around people. It's all gross. And yet, I'm working my ass off trying to get above it all...not be a victim, yet instead become victorious over all these old messages.

Ultimately, I know it's all a very good thing that this is happening. I believe in something greater and it isn't a coincidence that this is happening all at once, everywhere I turn. What better way to heal my deepest wound than become immersed in it to go thru it? I've struggled with self-confidence all my life, being true to myself knowing that it will never be a popular way of being. I can't whine about attempting to fit because it's never going to happen. And I have to learn that it's okay.

I'm trying to show myself a little grace...attempting to consciously balance between allowing myself all the feelings that arise, honoring the grieving process, while remaining creative with my healing, such as visualizing better and greater things. It's tough to do because I feel I'm battling on many fronts, but I'm stubborn, and so will get there. In time.

In the meantime, regardless of the pain, I refuse to become oblivious to the snippets of beauty and magic that can be found in life. This morning, at 5 am, on the way to work, I heard the birds singing "good morning." It was pretty.

The photo was shot a while ago. About 3 weeks ago I was playing a little in photoshop with a jpeg of a detail of one of my paintings and came up with this image.

These are some shots from the last few weeks...

The table in the studio last night.

Note the big jugs of cheap wine. One of my wonderful studio mates made labels from his art to slap over the wine labels. The fortune cookies from another studio mate, and Daniel brought a large can of stuffed grape leaves (which you can't see), 4 pounds of killer brie that he drizzled with a fabulous balsamic vinegar, and a buttload of olives.

A very full evening with much laughter, packed hallways and good conversations. By 10 pm, the food was gone as was the wine.

Today...I'm fried. But that's okay. It's part of the package for being an introvert.

In addition, I woke in a very difficult, emotional place. I haven't stopped crying since my eyes opened. It's a massive feeling of being punished....mixed with a mega-dose of confusion. Nothing new for the last few months yet today it's exceptionally rough.

But there's a lot to do and once I get moving...should regain my emotional strength.

This is some of Seattle Treefort's collection that is being shown this evening in my studio for First Thursday. I posted the blurb about the show right here. In addition, the regular work of my 3 studio mates and myself are also exhibited.

I'm very sorry about the quality. It's tough to shoot, with reflections and all. Click on the images to see them a little bigger. Also, even if I had the ability to take a professional photo, it would still fall short. The energy emanates from the pieces only when experiencing them in person.

When Daniel and I finished hanging, I was thrilled. In addition to a variety of mediums - oils, prints, graphite, colored pencil, lithographs and a ceramic piece, there is much energy to the work. D & C have a good eye when it comes to purchasing art and I am honored to be showcasing their collection in this special exhibit.

Now, an hour to rest before showering, shopping for food and out the door again.

Special First Thursday Exhibit

In conjunction with the Sake show at the Mnemonic Gallery, the Sophia Room at the 619 Western Arts Building is honored to present a special show comprised of art on loan from a private collection located at The Treefort.

"The Treefort is a bdsm playspace and a spiritual center in the home of two queer men, Daniel McGlothlen and Craig Williams, living in south Seattle. The work shown has been culled from a collection that has grown slowly and deliberately over the course of a decade. The artists represented include Michael Max Youngs, Drub, Stephen Fisher, Stephen Player, "The Hun", Eric Johnson, Boyd Sheer, D. Stenkamp and Marie Gagnon. These pieces have come to help define the nature of the space, the aesthetic of the room. We believe, however, that they also have become, over the years, informed by the activities, by the sexual nature of their environment. They are saturated with who we are and the way we fuck."

Mr. McGlothlen and Mr. Williams will be on hand to answer questions.

Thursday, April 3
6 - 9 pm
619 Western Ave
4th Floor South
The Sophia Room

In addition, the 4 artists of The Sophia Room will also have their latest works on exhibit.