Last night smartassbunny and I left work and stopped by the bookstore where my shiny new art book was waiting, and then traipsed down the hill to the Six Arms pub where Daniel was waiting.

Quiet evening. And a wonderful one. I haven't seen the Bear in....much too long. They enjoyed reubens while I munched on fish and chips. Hard ciders all around.

Six Arms is a great place to take photos. Sitting in a different area than the last time I was there provided more camera food. I didn't realize how many were shot until I imported them. My trigger finger went nuts and there were over a 100 images. I managed to edit and trash about 85 of them.

The book is beautiful. I look forward to immersing myself in it. Although it's not helping with my new bout of hesitancy around painting. Her work is fucking glorious.

Lately I've been feeling intimidated with my art. Over the last few days, doubt is settling in. Thoughts such as "who do you think you are...you can't do this" or "M, you're just fooling yourself...you aren't a painter" have been nipping at me.

I know that in spite of the nagging old tape, I need to get back to work. But it's hard. And that's when it gets really scary. So frightening, just thinking about it leaves me in tears.

After dinner, we popped into Utrecht which is right across the street, so I could pick up more watercolor paper.

Later that night I received a surprise phone call...and off to a long overdue, blissful, uninterrupted sleep. Because of old stuff, no matter how exhausted I am, lately sleep hasn't been a comfort.

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.
And...being May, this month's Planet Waves and Inner Space.

Life has become quite complicated. With that, over the last few months, I've intentionally pulled back in many areas, attempting to still the cacophony of extraneous movement and sound.

In doing so and sitting more with myself, alone, there have been great breakthroughs. It thrills my shrink. I've responded snarkily because I see his glee in my discomfort, while knowing full well that I couldn't arrive at this place without the suffering.

The last few days have left me weary for peace and so my meditation during this time has been focused on tapping into that calm source that lays inside. Again, it's meant keeping more to myself. Little by little I can do it. When I sit in my center, my heart opens, my sex springs forth, and all is right with the world for a bit.

Yesterday, I read something about how our homes are a metaphor for how we live our lives. It makes sense.

Two years ago I was ready to create a nest where self-nurturing would happen. This apartment is the first one where I painted my walls with warmth, applied rich color, and added hints of decadent varied textures.

I'm now taking a critical eye to it because I want to compose quiet pockets of clarity. There is nothing I can do about the painting clutter. That's needed and is a comfort itself. But I'm looking at corners and thinking about my scary closet. Maybe if I tackle it a little at a time, a greater oasis can be revealed.


Thanks to Lisa V for the Astrobarry reminder.

These are current pieces I'm still working on. Don't get too attached (if you like 'em, that is). They'll change soon enough.


Final question asked during question month:

"Going off on a tangent from the sexual intensity question, can you describe some of your most intense reactions to the art of others? For the purposes of this question I think "art' can be any way you chose to define it.
I've fainted twice in the presence of others' art :)"

Here are a couple examples.
First, about fine art.

The first time I had a powerful reaction to a painting was in 1994 at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. I'll never forget it. And I'm not even sure why it happened. But I walked into a room and my eyes landed upon Matisse's Carmelita and immediately my eyes filled with tears.

It's a sweet little painting and an image doesn't do it justice. But still...I was always surprised by that reaction.

The second time, and it was even more powerful, was a year ago. Walking up to the door of the gallery, I saw these paintings through the window and my breath caught in my throat and again, as I entered the space my face wet with tears. All I could do was immerse myself in the painter's work...wander the gallery and felt humbled. It was a painter I had never heard of until that moment.

It felt like home. I couldn't even verbalize my thoughts while surrounded by the work. If I had tried, I would have simply broken down. Once I left the gallery, on the sidewalk, I was able to explain to the person I was with, those were the paintings I would do if I had courage. To this day I still think about Amy Sillman's paintings.

A couple other experiences come to mind but I'll keep those private.

One I will share was the time I discovered joy for the first time in my life. It didn't have to do with regular art but it was definitely art. About 7 months ago, after a powerful week, I cried every day for the next 2 weeks because at 47 years old I finally knew joy.

It threw me for a loop because joy had never seemed like an elusive state. I knew happiness and giddiness. I thought I knew joy. Yet....in this particular time, I learned that joy comes from a very deep place that fills the entire space between my cunt up to my throat with the most substantial, warmest and brightest sensation. It carries a penetrating calm. The tears would spring up many times each day because of the awe I felt. The holiest of feelings. Rooted deep within.

Even now, thinking about it, my being is filled with enormous gratitude and pleasure.
It is not something I could even begin to take for granted.


So those are a few examples. Now I'm curious as to what experience you had that caused you to faint.

Thank you everyone who participated in question month. It's been challenging and delightful. And, questions aren't only limited to March. If you're curious about something, feel free to ask.

Finally!
Here is the second to last question asked during question month back in March:

"Let's say you're fairly new in the scene, with maybe a year or two under your belt. You're considering entering into a kind of service/mentoring relationship with a community elder. What factors would you take into account? What things would be most important for you to consider? What do you think are common "warning bells" and which factors would be deal-breakers for you? What would draw you towards considering such a relationship?"

I've been thinking hard about this question since I first received it about a month ago.

A service/mentoring relationship is an intimate relationship. Therefore what I look for would be the same thing I look for when engaging in any intimate relationship, regardless of whether it's s/m related.

Take your time getting to know the person.
I would begin by seeking someone who is honest and open. Self confidence is important, but arrogance is a deal killer. Compassion is critical and rare. Many confuse sympathy with compassion but the skill of empathy is needed. In placing yourself in the shoes of another is where compassion lies. Feeling the pain.

In s/m we speak of consent, negotiation, communication etc. What I seek is someone who can translate that to everyday life and not only keep it within the confines of the dungeon or the scene. Integration is key.

"Community elder" is something I take with a grain of salt.
Sure, it wouldn't hurt to begin there, and references are important, but ultimately, you are going to place your trust in another and if they aren't a safe person for you to do that with, it doesn't matter how long they've been in the scene, how they are regarded, etc. Because someone is safe for many doesn't make them safe for you. There is no reason for guilt or shame around it. Instead, take pride that you can heed your intuition in the midst of a pack of sheep. Our intuition is the most powerful guidance we have. It can be heard as that little voice or gut feeling that says "uhoh…something isn't quite right." It may not mean to fully stop negotiations, but maybe just take a step back, and dig further.

Don't be intimidated because someone is considered an elder. Grill them.
Don't be dazzled by celebrity status or to borrow a term from a good friend, don't be a "star fucker".

Do much talking ahead of time, and not in "role". In the interview process, there may be loose protocol to follow, depending on the people involved, but there is no reason for submission during that time. You are coming together as two people each looking for something in the other and roles can cloud this important weeding process.

Definitions.
Go back to communication basics. If they say something, translate it into what you heard, such as "so you said…." It's amazing how often we carry assumptions and think it is fact. Make sure you are both speaking the same language. We can use the same word...and each carry different meanings. Define what you are saying and have them do the same.

List your needs and your expectations.
Find out what theirs are.

Boundaries.
Think about what you need for boundaries and ask them for theirs. We all have boundaries and limits. And even after you enter into a relationship, continue to evaluate what's been negotiated. A warning bell should ring when those boundaries aren't respected….or are ignored without prior negotiation.

See if they know that entering such a relationship is an act of service by both parties.

And here is something I truly cherish and will never forget:
Before I signed my training contract, we met once a week for four weeks where he would give me questions that I wouldn't even know to ask because I was new. Invaluable. It was his responsibility and it showed me that he was aware of my novice state.

I would receive questions each session...to mull over during the week and then talk about them the following week.

He would even put forth questions that would attempt to scare me off of training. He wasn't going to seduce me into it. He wanted to make sure I knew it would be one of the hardest things I've ever done…including foretelling that I would end up lonely because if I made it through training, I wouldn't be impressed by what I saw in "the community". He reinforced the idea that I would be seeking an energy and integrity not commonly found. That part almost scared me off. I mean, who the hell wants to jump into something knowing their circle gets smaller, not larger?

If an experience or relationship causes you to feel small, insecure, worthless, less than...think badly about yourself...it is a relationship to get out of, regardless of who the top is. Big, BIG warning bell. In a relationship, as any relationship, all should be enhance by the joining. Be it mentor/student...top/bottom...husband/wife...best friends...etc.

What would draw you to such a relationship?"

Seeking a mentor comes from a desire to learn. Be it a specific skill, or something more general.
I was hungry for inner knowledge on why s/m resonated so deeply with me and was fortunate enough to find someone who could assist with that learning.

Over the last 10 years, I've had many different s/m relationships, some more formal than others. One (before I went into training) was almost disastrous except that even in the chaos, I learned so much about myself. I learned that I really didn't know how to look out for myself or ask for what I needed. Each relationship increased my skills and so I arrive at the next a much stronger person.

It is all building blocks.

Stepping away from my work for a bit always makes a difference. This morning I don't see the messes I saw yesterday. Two especially, are very exciting and are already speaking to me.

I ordered The Paintings of Joan Mitchell on Friday from the independent bookstore near my house. Each year, the board gives us a gift certificate for that bookstore. Yesterday, I went to see what the balance was and noticed it's exactly enough to cover the book and tax. Score.

Something huge happened last night. I'm not ready to expound on it except to say that as life was becoming better and better, old wounds were making themselves known in a stronger fashion. I came to a point where I became a raw, walking nerve, with emotional pain being a constant. It would be felt in varying degrees, but wouldn't leave.

Last night I accessed a way out by grabbing the key that I've been holding for a while and finally putting it in the lock and opening the door.

The liberation in my chest was profound.
(Thank you for being there)

I know, because wounds are deep, that this isn't the end of it. But I have a new tool to work with, and hopefully will remain diligent in using it when needed. This, being new, is still precarious but in using it in my life I hope to see trust build. And then one day, as the foundation grows more solid, I'll be able to open even more.

Just returned from an early brunch with the bunny. Afterward, we went for a walk through the neighborhood and in the park, stopping at the hardware store so I could replenish my rags and paint thinner supply. Today is another painting day.

Laid back day.

Errands with Hoss. After dropping him off, I went home, chilled for a bit and then spent the afternoon working on paintings.

I've kept it a quiet day, immersed in thought. Patterns continue to make themselves clear. I'm being diligent on breaking old habits. I'm learning that whenever I take a huge risk, fear then steps in. Today I was clear about where the fear came from and let it be.

When I went to my painting table, the fear began to lift. Nothing exciting came up on canvas in any of the 4 paintings I worked. Right now my apartment reeks of turpentine. Windows are open. The ceiling fan is twirling. And yet, there was great comfort in pushing paint around. Fears subsided and calmness began to fill me.

Painting is good.

The more I learn, the greater my challenge seems to be. I see, with each new lesson how powerful old patterns are and how thick the walls.


Life is funny.

Family

It's been a busy couple days.

Most of it spent on the phone in various types of calls. From catching up with my parents to an amazing experience...to a productive call this morning and then this evening, consoling a friend and good catch up time with another.

In the middle of the day my computer guy installed the extra memory and Photoshop. My computer is so much happier now and I took him out for dinner and drinks and then off to the bookstore to order a book of Joan Mitchell's paintings.

So I'm tired now. Therefore not much of an entry.

But I've touched various aspects of chosen family in different ways in the last 24 hours. It is good.
And my heart smiles.

oink...

Good article in this week's The Stranger regarding an art school here in town.

After experiencing 3 different art departments I landed at UNH for their BFA program. What I sought was a traditional art background. The others didn't wash. Even UNH, didn't always feel rigorous enough in a classical, disciplined way, but I still enjoyed it and took all I could from it.

I've always had the desire to do the steps. I want to crawl before I can walk and walk before run. I wanted to learn the rules so then I could mindfully break them. It's the way I'm made. And I seek that for all parts of my life.

What drives me crazy is that we've become a culture of immediate gratification, with little desire to pay our dues, earn our way.

In January 2001 I took a week long drawing intensive at the Gage Academy before it moved to its current digs. It was difficult...brutal...and wonderful. Nonstop drawing.

My drawing skills still aren't up to the level I'd like. I know how I can work on it, but it's tough to pull together the discipline for self-study. Especially now that my painting is more in the belly realm, I strive to balance it with head knowledge by copying the masters in pencil and copying figures from my anatomy books. Sadly, I'm not as diligent as I'd like to be.

Jen Graves writes about one school which has a focus on the traditional and feels the tension between the old and the new in Art School Confidential.

"Founded to teach what artists don't learn in art school-old-fashioned skills-Gage Academy's classical atelier attracts students from around the world. But Gage Academy's founders see the need to modernize. Welcome to the art school dilemma."

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Mark Morford, in today's column, writes:

"In an unusual turn of events, a comprehensive new study from a team of world-class prize-winning nicely disheveled calmly titillated researchers from Johns Hopkins University, working in conjunction with various slightly frumpy but no less adorable teams from Sweden, the United Kingdom, Brazil and roughly 57 other nations, many of which have names that are still barely pronounceable by our own president, has come to a decisive conclusion regarding sex education in America.

Their astonishing research shows that the Bush administration's abstinence-only sex education programs are not only utterly useless and a complete waste of taxpayer money, but they actually invite all manner of disease and destruction and savage karmic pain upon those who attempt to adhere to them."

Read the rest of No Sex Is Very Bad For You.

Last night, I picked up a new sex toy...did dinner with a friend and enjoyed the warm evening.

I even went to go look at potential studio space that was a 10 minute walk from my house and a 15 minute walk from work. Very, very affordable. It's a basement that is being split into studios and/or storage space. There is no utility sink and no ventilation. Unfortunately, it won't work. But I'm keeping my eyes peeled.

Life is good. Actually, always a little better when art and sex are entangled.

Book pimping time!

I either have met these folks or know of them through blogs I read.
These are people who have had book releases in the last 6 months or so. I think there's a little something for everyone.

Check them out. If something strikes your fancy, please support them by
buying a book or two.

Poetry:
Revisionist History by Kenneth Fish

On gender:
Butch Is A Noun by S. Bear Bergman.

Sex education:
S.E.X.: Spelling Out All You Need to Know About Your Sexuality by Heather Corinna

Sexual autobiography:
Indecent: How I Make It and Fake It as a Girl for Hire by Sarah Katherine Lewis

Geek fun:
The Complete April Fools' Day RFCs by Tom Limoncelli

Fiction:
Master Hans Daughter by Midori

I wondered what photo I'd use for today....knowing I'd need to take a new one. Thanks to Kim of Seattle Daily Photo, I found her shot of this and knew I had to go see it for myself. I wanted to shoot my own for this post.

So...after work I walked home to pick up my car and get over to the University of WA. Considering it was the beginning of rush hour, not only did I make better than excellent time, but I found a parking spot on the Ave near the part of campus I needed to be at.

It was a fabulous day. Sunny and mid-sixties. I wandered the quad for a bit. The last time I had been in that part of campus was almost 4 years ago when I went to hear Samuel Delaney speak.

Not only did I find the sculpture, one of 28 created by Dudley Pratt, but I walked around the building a few times looking at all the others.





And this was the first one I noticed. He charms me the most! Remember, these were created in the '30s.



Then I walked back to the car, wondering what I was going to do for supper until I discovered a small restaurant right next to where I was parked that advertised falafel sandwiches for $3.00. I picked one up and it was quite good, almost as good as the one I enjoyed back at the end of January.

All in all...a wonderful, spontaneous adventure. And it reminds me that I need to return to the campus and spend more time walking around.

The icing on the cake was the surprising discovery that my parking space was still free. It's a big deal because this is a space where I can leave my car for about a week without moving it. And no permits needed!

Oh yes, one more thing that was brought to my attention yesterday while listening to Radio Paradise on the web.

If you enjoy internet radio, please check out Save Net Radio.

From their website:

"The future of Internet radio is in immediate danger. The Copyright Royalty Board in Washington, DC has more than tripled the royalty rates for webcasters and left unchanged they will kill Internet radio. These exorbitant rates go into effect on May 15 (retroactive to Jan 1, 2006!). Without Congressional action the majority of webcasters will go bankrupt and silent on this date. We need your help. Please take a moment to send a letter to your member of Congress to keep Net radio from being silenced."

There is a reason why I used to love shooting transparencies. What you see is what you get. Digitally, it's more frustrating. Everything changes, and even more so depending on the monitor, etc.

So...this painting is really more dark than light with very little contrast. Looking at it on my monitor here at work and comparing it to my coworker's....it's like looking at two different pieces.

I haven't worked on it since Saturday when it was born. Still not sure where to go, but that's okay.

A few of the paintings are lined up against the window. Looking at them yesterday made me smile. Some older, some newer. Each unique and yet at the same time similar. And yes, I am purchasing my canvases already stretched. I much prefer stretching my own, but until I get a bigger place, it's awkward enough trying to paint here, let alone finding a good space to make my own canvases.

Yesterday was a quiet day.

Not only did I do a small pencil sketch which will be a painting soon, but I worked a couple paintings. One of them, brand new. Very, very different for me. It is a quiet painting. The red isn't even loud. I've never before done such a painting and will document it today, while the light is good. It is a surprising development.

Last evening into this morning, I've been looking at it and listening. I have a couple ideas but I want it to tell me what it wants.

Also last evening, I brought the tv into my bedroom and curled up in bed with Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. I've yet to see any Harry Potter movie in its entirety and so thought it would be a good opportunity to do so. 45 minutes before the end I fell asleep. Not from boredom, but plain old sleepiness.

I've been thinking about the art. When my computer is fully updated, I'm going to burn a few discs with samples of paintings to send to a couple profs I studied under 10 years ago..and to send to someone I met while away who requested to see my work.

I woke this morning with visions of sweet, comforting touching and sex.

Today, laundry, more painting and maybe even a walk with my camera.

I've been a little discombobbled this week. In terms of my computer, that is. So it's made it difficult to blog.

When the contents of my harddrive were reinstalled last Sunday, he couldn't reinstall the older version of Photoshop that was on my laptop. So, he wanted to install the latest version, which can't be done unless I get more ram, which I needed anyway. I ordered it. And it was supposed to be in on Wednesday. UPS did deliver it...to the address I gave them, which was incorrect. I combined the mailing and physical address of my office! Therefore ram won't be in until this coming week some time. No photoshop to play with images from my home computer. On top of it, I don't care for this latest version of iPhoto. I have to figure out a new way to file and move images.

My camera is filling up with images that I don't want to download to my laptop until I install the extra memory. It's getting cranky every time I open iPhoto.

All these changes have made the very efficient process I used to have, incredibly clunky. I'm sure that once I figure out a new system and get used to using it, it too will become just as quick. But for now...I'm all thumbs. In that, it makes the idea of blogging a chore.

Today's photo is an old one taken back in February, while in NYC.

So, it's a matter of waiting until the new ram comes in and then waiting until the new version of Photoshop gets installed. In the meantime, I will still try and figure out a work around...but can we say "bleah..."?

Other than that, life is good. I'm in a stronger place which gives me extra stuff to support another. Work, although busy, is brilliant. The painting is going well. I picked up more art supplies today. And I had an interesting interview (not job related) this morning.

Painting progression.

As I was telling someone last night....creating is magic. I'm amazed at what came come from within when I open up. This painting isn't complete yet. I'm not sure what it's saying to me. Time to listen to it. But I love the evolution.

The first image was painted on Sunday. The second one is when I painted over the painting on Tuesday night and it evolved.

Maybe I should have bourbon more often while painting?





I keep opening them up in separate windows to do a side by side comparision. It makes me giddy. Awestruck. Aghast and agog. It's almost tough to believe this came from inside me.

Important painting lesson:



Don't place your glass of bourbon next to the jar of turp.

------------

Really good painting session last night. Tomorrow I'll post photos of the progression. Although I tend to live in perpetual horniness, a powerful work session such as last night's, increases my desire to mammoth proportions.

In the meantime, enjoy this week's Freewill Astrology.

Time for wine?

Once again, another very busy day. 'Tis the season. After work I planned on sitting for a half hour, then make a decision about dinner so I could paint right after that. My half hour turned into an hour and a half because I was engrossed in figuring out something that's bugging me with the newer version of iPhoto.

No painting last night. I was spent. Good thing I suppose because the paintings were still pretty wet.

Life has been frenetically crazy and the idea of wine is nice. Sadly, there is no wine in the house. The photo is not of my wine, nor my house. Instead, I'll look at all the positive progress taking place in my life where once I'd be sent over the edge, pour a glass of bourbon and begin to paint.

Busy day.

I woke late and arrived at work about 15 minutes before my therapy appt. Just enough time to scan email, check my to do list and out the door. Then back to work and I went full throttle.

We are prepping for our yearly audit. The finance director and I spent last week working to balance our numbers...the database to the accounting system. We were still off by Thursday afternoon but too bleary eyed to make anymore progress. In 3 hours this morning...we finished. Once again...considering over a million and a half dollars came through my desk, and have about 100 various funds and restrictions...we balanced to the fucking penny!

It's my big achievement each year - one of the few ways I can validate my anal retentiveness when it comes to entering the numbers. It's the fourth year we've done so, although not 4 in a row. Last year we were off by a couple hundred. That was the year I took a six week sabbatical. This year, there were so many extra complications that I was prepared for us to be off a little bit. And yet...we weren't.

I love how it blows our auditors away. And it still freaks as well as in a huge way pleases me.


Other stuff:

I still haven't forgotten the last two questions from question month and expect to complete them this week. It will take me a little to get back into my regular blogging mode.

As of last night, my computer is back up and working. Today I purchased extra ram so I can install the newer version of PhotoShop. It should arrive by Wednesday.

Yesterday not only did I shoot a bunch of photos for the first time in a week but I managed to paint by beginning three pieces. In a phone call with N today, I shared some new realizations in painting abstractly versus the more realistic work I also do. Once I really gather my thoughts, I'll pop it in an entry. For now I will say it is a mystery. Painting in an abstract fashion, in my experience, is an ongoing walk into the unknown and very unfamiliar.

Quite uncomfortable. And...important.

Here's a not very good image of one of yesterday's work....version one. With this new way of painting, I am documenting often because I'm fascinated by the changes each time I work.

If you click on the image, you'll see it's massive. That's because I don't have PhotoShop right now and so can't resize them. Soon....

My computer is down and is being tended to by a friend who also runs the mail server I use. Last night, I brought it over and he began by copying the contents of my harddrive onto the server before he does a full reinstall. I should get it back sometime today.

Seeing I live near my office, I popped into work for a bit to check email and do a few things before returning home. This morning, very early, I reorganized the furniture a bit in my living space to better accommodate my painting stuff. It's all set up for me to work when I get home.

It never fails to amaze me how much I can accomplish when I can't access the internet from my home.

Sometimes, I forget I'm an introvert. The times I forget are when I'm doing really fun things….experiences that feed me. Even though I'm being fed, the constant contact with people, even groovy people, wipes me out. It has taken a full week to regroup from a week of being social. It also didn't help that I had a massive lightbulb moment and memory awakening into my past earlier this week. Double whammy.

Yesterday…I could finally begin to feel my strength returning. And yesterday, while walking for coffee, I noticed my creative eye slowly returning. Even though I still couldn't fathom grabbing my camera, I was seeing pictures and paintings...in the way that makes me happy.

Today, it is better.
We'll see what kind of messes await me on canvas.

Where is girlfag?

I can't even post a photo. I haven't shot anything since Sunday.

In addition to recovering from a fucking amazing week, I hit a whole new level with old kid stuff. Greater insights have left me shattered, wracked with much doubt about myself and new anger at my parents.

It's all good. And yet, this is the most painful work I've done. Heh. How often have I said that? Another level of awareness. In addition to my Monday appt with the shrink, I booked an emergency one on Tuesday night and then another for later today.

It is much too difficult to write, paint or shoot images.

All I want to do is sleep, which I suppose is good because in the past, for my whole life, when in turmoil, sleep would always be elusive.
Guess it means my psyche and heart are trying to heal.

One treat for today - I walked into work and the finance director approached me:
"Gaggalicious, your taxes are almost all done. I only have a couple questions for you."

Sweet.

This is the first year, following a certain artist's orders, that I'm filing a schedule C and working toward seeing my art as a profession. He was right. If I don't treat myself seriously as an artist then who will?

So my wonderful coworker offered to do them for me and this morning before I even got to the office, took all my paperwork and did it. I have a small refund coming, and, regarding my work, it's the beginning of handling my money in a new way.


That's that.
I'm still not sure when I will be back to blogging regularly, but wanted to pop in.

This is essentially a bookmark.