Yesterday was a very full day. There wasn't any space for blogging until last night. And then I burnt through my camera battery while out and so couldn't import images into my computer until this morning.

Phil's brother is in town and after a small gathering of the Friday Evening Libation Society, Phil, his bro, D and I went down near the water to shoot photos at sunset and then do dinner. I'll be posting a bunch of images later.

In addition, I have a few photos from a gathering last week, and some from Zev's visit the week before. Those will also go up this weekend.

A shot of my studio after yesterday's work session.



On the wall, a bunch of wet paintings...still unfinished. The paintings way in the back are my studio mate's. That's her section and I really enjoy her work. They are window reflections from tall buildings.

I'll get back in there today but first, I have to make myself do laundry. I put it off twice last weekend because I wanted to get into the studio. It can no longer wait.

Nayland Blake asked me for 7 tidbits that people probably wouldn't know.

Here they are:


1. I used to know all the words to all the songs from "Jesus Christ Superstar" and would sing them on roadtrips when we'd go visit memere and pepere in Canada or Berlin, NH. Although I haven't made a point of listening to it since, when I hear something from that show, I still enjoy it.


2. Necked with my first boy at 12. We'd go to an apartment in a creepy building in an even creepier neighborhood. I don't even remember who lived there. But there were a few girls and boys from my 7th grade class at my French-Canadian catholic grammar school. We hung out and necked after school every day. I was crushed out on John, but would kiss his brother Norman, nicknamed "Caveman". Caveman was a couple years older but was in our class because he stayed back a few times. I wasn't fond of him but wanted to kiss. Thinking about it now makes me feel icky.


3. I trust very few women. Although I had been physically raped by a man, it was women, over the span of my life, who had emotionally raped me. I've experienced too much meanness, hidden agendas, and deceit at the hands of women.

Now I do follow my intuition, and if someone feels good...clean, I will welcome them, regardless of gender. If there isn't a clear energy signal, then I lean toward being overly cautious. Although it's not fair, I tend to hold women to a higher standard. I'm actively working on changing this but it isn't easy.

This is one reason why finding my studio space was a powerful moment. I enjoyed the women painters immediately...as soon as I met them. It was a relief because not only did it show me that I don't hate women but also a reminder that my intuition tends to be spot on. And I have been doubting myself a lot recently and therefore desperately needed some affirmation.


4. Other than a short summer drawing class at the museum when I was 10, I didn't take formal art classes until I was about 20 years old. Never touched it in high school. It shows a serious disconnect between myself and my world when I was a teen.

When I was younger Mom would give me tips. Pretty much the only thing I remember from her is: when doing a bouquet of flowers (or any other grouping), do an odd number. It's more interesting than an even number. I stuck to that pretty faithfully until I saw times when rules could be broken.

After my first continuing ed course in painting at the local community college I was allowed to go to school for art. I had to create a portfolio from scratch. I carried lots of shame and felt like a huge imposter because I didn't have the benefit of high school art classes to show work from that. To this day, there are many times I don't feel worthy of painting and feel a huge lack of skills.


5. I sucked my thumb until I was twelve. I had to learn to comfort myself much too early.


6. Oh my. I just remembered something. I had my first cigarette at 12 years old. It seems I traded one for the other. Marlboro's were 45 cents a pack. Just a little orally fixated.


7. My dad told me to leave the house at 18 because I was a bad influence on my brothers and sisters. It seems that my decision to leave the catholic church at 16, and become a non-denominational jesus freak…going to prayer meetings all the time and volunteering with the elderly was a greater offense than the drinking, drugging and sex that my younger sibs were engaging in. Apparently he threw his parenting responsibility on my shoulders. Although I'm working on it, I still haven't let go of that one.

He let me move back in a year later, and then a few years after that, decided I could go to college for art and he would pay for my education.


And a bonus answer:

Even with all the therapy, there are still days where I feel I shouldn't have been born on this planet. I don't understand the rules of this world...and don't know how to play the games. It hurts my heart to see much of what I see.

My struggle is with not closing myself off from the muddiness.

It seems the older I get the more I understand why people choose to become hermits.

-----

And...yesterday I had a fucking kick ass painting session. I went into the studio a total emotional wreck and managed to rise past it, immerse myself in oils, and came out in another place.

All sorts of linkage~

Last night was our neighborhood block party. Spearheaded by Angel, of Angel's Shoe Repair. I think he's been in the neighborhood for over 30 years. There was a danger of his having to move because of skyrocketing rent increases…but I hope it doesn't happen.

Our neighborhood is like a small town. The diversity of cultures is wonderful. There isn't much racial diversity…not like when I lived in Columbia City. But we have regular joes, and more well to do folks such as Microsofties, as well as artists and street/homeless people and queers and freaks and leatherfolk and young and old. There's a little bit of everything. Definite lifestyle linking.

Last night many of us came together. I had the chance to meet some new folks, each very different and wonderful. I could have easily handed out my work and art business cards. Got to meet and speak with a gay male couple about grants and scholarships. One is going to apply for a scholarship while his partner wants to apply for a grant for his organization to continue funding a food program for queer homeless youth.

I received a card from a painter/dancer.

Many neighborhood businesses chipped in with store gift certificates (such as getting the food from the grocery stores), or pizza from Olympic Pizza. The HopVine Pub had a large platter of killer cookies and coupons for happy hour beers prices. There were thick juicy hamburgers cooking on the grill, hotdogs and veggie burgers. Salads and beans were brought in. Neighbors would also bring food. The ribs went fast. As did the pie.

I was taking photos and someone asked me if I had a blog…because I was taking photos. :-)



From Rob Brezsny:

Again and again
Some people in the crowd wake up.
They have no ground in the crowd
And they emerge according to broader laws.
They carry strange customs with them,
And demand room for bold gestures.

The future speaks ruthlessly through them.
- Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Stephen Mitchell

Here's this week's Freewill Astrology.

This week's Astrobarry 'scopes.

For you funky film freaks...SomethingWeird.com. It's a resource to pick up old, forgotten bizarre films.

From their website:

"Here on your screen is a whole world of film that just a few short years ago was considered lost or worthless. The industry that produced and distributed these films had long since vanished and there was no sign of the men who actually created these bottom of the barrel celluloid wonders. That is until now."



In reading a local art blog yesterday I found a wonderful critique. It reminded me of how my profs would critique back in school.

Regina Hackett wrote:

"…Robb did not deserve that award in 2003. She still doesn't. So far, she's an artist on the brink of something. She has the potential to be huge but that potential remains unrealized. She needs to focus, and she needs to be less in love with her every gesture. If she destroyed most of what she's made, she'd have the beginning of a beginning."

It's fair and very powerful.


Now…about the group show I will participate in -

It's the 7th annual challenge: 30 paintings in 30 days.

I pay $75. For that I receive 30 8x10 canvas boards. The fee covers the supplies and hanging materials.
Everyone picks up the canvas on the same day. Then we have 30 days to paint.

The work gets hung at the OK Hotel Gallery in December. Chuck, who spearheads this, says that our building can hold all the work, but it can't hold all the people who come thru to see it. There's a huge line an hour before the opening!

Every painting is for sale for $40. Affordable art for the masses.
And…people get to take home the art as soon as they pay for it.

The artist receives 2/3.

I love the populist idea behind this. It makes art accessible.

Here's a photo of what it looked like last year.

And this is a short, very interesting blurb about the history of the hotel, including the fact that Nirvana first performed Smells Like Teen Spirit there!

Now, I need to focus on work, although it's going to be tough not to be distracted considering a very hot email that was waiting for me when I arrived at work.

Yesterday, after work, I was so sleepy that I wanted to go home and nap. Knowing that napping rarely happens, instead I forced myself down to the studio and worked another drawing. Just stepping foot in the space rejuvenated me for a couple hours.

Today, after being at work for a bit I opted to take some time from our summer floating use it or lose it holiday hours. I wanted to paint.

After the 20 minute bus ride, I walked in about 11 am. It was deliciously quiet. No one around. I rearranged a little and then pulled out my oils. The last time I worked in oils was before heading to NYC at the end of May.

It was strange. Wonderful but odd.

It's time to purchase a larger piece of glass to make a bigger palette. That was always a constricting factor. Colors muddy up fairly quickly with a smaller palette surface. And now with greater painting space, I need the mixing room as well.

Rough work session today.

I worked for over an hour and then slipped into some of the blackness and almost froze. All I could then do was plop my ass on the couch and sob. It took mammoth effort to get back up, return to the easel and paint some more. Paint something. Paint anything. Just move the paint on canvas.

Being there was the most important. I'm working on developing a routine.

It was bizarre because my heart was busting with love...and then after working a bit I was a very wet, weepy, teary mess. It hurt inside.

It can't all be warm fuzzies, right?
And it confused me. I couldn't understand the change.

I hoped to work a good 4 or 5 hours, but had to go home about 2pm. My skin hurt. I felt so exposed. While on the bus I couldn't wait to return to my apartment where I could be quiet and away from strangers for a while before I head over to our neighborhood block party for burgers.

Now that I'm writing this, I've realized something. Painting is my biggie. More than charcoal or watercolor. It makes total sense that I had a meltdown in the studio today. Not only had I not painted in over two months, but it was my very first painting session in a space where I'm claiming the validity of myself as painter.

No wonder I was raw.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple smiling nods~

Thank you to Susan Mernit for her kind words in her blog entry on Blogher: Surfing the Sex and Relationship Bloggers

And thanks to Capitol Hill Seattle blog for noting my flower power photo from Sunday.

How can I not mark this occasion?

This is the first thing I worked on in the new space. And no, it doesn't look like that anymore because well...I continued to push it. Pushed it past its prime.

And, you're missing all the detail. This shot doesn't pick any of that up. Mostly charcoal, with some black watercolor and graphite.


I went in yesterday to organize my stuff, take down the Thursday showing and hang some of my paintings on the wall. I needed to see certain pieces hung at the same time.

What a luxury.

Sitting on the couch, I kept looking at them. And after a bit, I was hungry to work. I dove in with charcoals because large charcoal pieces couldn't really happen in my apartment. Much too messy.

3 hours and 3 pieces later culminated in a sense of satisfaction. They are all getting tossed because it was simply about working. Working just to work which felt the same as playing. My cunt was so juiced up during that whole time.

It was a time of pushing and pulling and exposing in an environment made for vulnerability. Sex.


And don't worry. I'm not going to go on about my studio every day and forever. But right now, it's my new baby.

Or...better yet, my new home. It's a safe space for my most primal lover and I to get it on...to cry, to sweat, to kiss deep dark kisses, to rest, to fuck.

To fuck long and hard. To push past whatever barriers ego has built up. To step into the blackest pool, terrified yet determined, knowing that healing comes from the connection.

Creation is our job.

And in creation is truth.

Sunday morning posies~



Walking back this morning with coffee in hand, I noticed that someone lovingly created a garden on a little patch. It made me very happy.

Of course I didn't have my camera but went to get it and returned to the spot before the streets filled up with people.

I was simply going to post the full color image, but my old desire to retouch and immerse myself in mechanical detailing came out. When I worked in the photo lab almost 20 years ago (crap...I'm old!) I loved restoring old cracked photographs. It would bring up a peaceful feeling. This had a similar feel.

Very meditative work.

With the kind assistance of Hoss, S and G, I moved easels and paper and canvasses and pencils and tools and stuff into the studio today. It's sitting in a pile in the middle of the floor. I'll go in tomorrow, organize and set it up.

When I walked back into my little house, it felt spacious. Having a living space again is a more wonderful feeling than I thought it would be. I have room to cook. And to tend to my plants. And room to move the vacuum cleaner around.

And yet...at the same time, it seems odd not having my art materials around me. It feels as if I should be down at the studio right now. That's not a bad thing.

(I'm tired today, so am keeping this short.)

Last night's showing:

~Incredible, vibrant creative energy bursting out at the seams of the whole building.
~Totally packed with people, especially after 7:30 pm.
~I've got to get business cards made.
~Had a wonderful time.
~Hoss and his D came by for a while...and assisted with pimping out my work.
~Received great response to the work.
~Was asked to be in a big group show...with a challenge - 30 paintings in 30 days!

I accepted.


It is drizzly and cool. It makes me happy because it slows me down. I will be packing up my stuff to move to the studio tomorrow.

Today is a tomato soup and saltines kind of day.

Tonight is my first First Thursday art walk. In my new, real life studio. This is one of the windows in the new space.
For those who can make it, it's from 6-9 pm at 619 Western, 4th floor south. Look for the studio that has a sign painted above the door. It says: The Sophia Room.

So named...for wisdom.

When I first saw the studio, and the name, it was another powerful affirmation.


I've seen how afraid I really was with sharing my work. It surprised me because in '96, after my degree, I lept at chances to show my work. Yes, there would be a little bit of anxiety but nothing debillitating.

When I purchased my camera last September, I had begun working again. And...the work took a dramatic turn. I was now learning to paint from my belly and cunt instead of only from my head. And I would post images of some of the work. I was proud of what I was doing.

So the realization of the terror I carried surprised me. It happened on Monday when I brought a batch of paintings to the studio. I shared them with a passionate art lover and then two artists. In doing so, anxiety filled me. Each morning since, I wished I could be anything other than artist. I didn't want to do this. The fear weighed heavy on my chest and I couldn't breathe.

My face was breaking out with painful zits...and I have never been prone to them. Not even as a teen.

I wanted to remain in bed and totally wash this art stuff out of my being.


And yet, a part of me was on autopilot. I was doing what I needed to.

By yesterday I was easing into it. My joy and excitement was returning. I had popped over to the studio during my work day, for lunch...spending a bit of time getting to know the space and letting it feel me as well.

After work I returned and tried out ideas for showing the work.

At the last minute I decided to take today off. I'll go in later this morning and leisurely finish hanging my pieces.

What am I showing?

I'm naming it: You're Scaring Me...

They are a few of the ink sketches I did when I was told I may have ovarian cancer. I chose that series because it was the first time I painted through my terror. The first few nights, I'd be working at the table, brush to paper, sobbing, and kept repeating out loud "you're scaring me...you're scaring me..." I was speaking to my cyst.

It's the perfect work to show.

~On Monday I dropped off the first batch of paintings at the studio. While there, I received the keys.


~I was invited by our ABC TV affiliate to a blogger meetup on Thursday night. This is something new they put together. Although curious...I rsvp'd my regrets because it conflicts with my first First Thursday art walk.


~The artist who's leaving the space had a large canvas she had stretched and gessoed. It's about 4 feet by 10 feet. She mentioned that she couldn't take it to the new space with her, and was going to sell it.

I jumped on it.

On Monday I told her my ideas for the canvas. She got chills. Her intention for the canvas was a very similar type of painting. It's a passing the torch of sorts.


~For the space I wanted to find a small couch on freecycle or something. Free or very cheap. Yesterday morning I found a free one on Craig's list. They had put it on the street and it needed to be moved asap. So C and I left work and ran over to Ballard. It was a beautiful loveseat. Amazing condition. Very comfortable.

It JUST fit in the back of his Subaru wagon and we took it to the studio. Returning to the car we found a $44 parking ticket.

So...no longer free. But cheap.


~Last night was a wonderful dinner with Craig and Daniel. We ended up at Duke's...on the top deck, at Alki. Within 10 minutes of sitting there, Malixe was walking in with a friend. D called down to them and they came up and joined us.

What tripped me out was that Malixe's friend, S, is someone that my former Mentor had wanted me to meet about 6 years ago! The man doesn't live in Seattle...and I figured it would never happen.

Life is funny...isn't it?

And...here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

When I was in NYC, I noticed some weirdness with my iShuffle. It wasn't playing a whole chunk of music was was supposedly on there. I looked at the library...updated the shuffle a few times and yet...they weren't coming up.

Since that trip, I haven't done anything with my shuffle. Until Sunday. I was determined to figure out the problem.

I went in and dumped all the old info out of the shuffle and then created a new playlist and updated. It was still not taking everything.

Annoying.

I couldn't understand because it used to play it all. In frustration, I attempted to drag one song into the shuffle. A message came up saying that this computer wasn't authorized to accept this song from the iTunes Music store.

More confusion. I had purchased the music on this laptop.

Then, a thought. In mid May, my computer froze up. I took it to my computer geek friend and he grabbed the guts and dumped it on his server...and then rebuilt it back...with his version of the OS, etc. I assumed that because the guts were different, iTunes couldn't see old Sam (the name of my hard drive).

In googling to figure out how to resolve this, I discovered something new: you can authorize up to 5 computers to accept your iTunes music store purchases.

My shuffle is happy once again.

Life has been internally and externally quite full.

There's much going on with prepping for my move to the studio including dealing with the reality that I may actually show work for first Thursday which happens this week.

I keep thinking "if I show something" but that's fear speaking. Down deep I know I will put something up. It's an intense move toward christening the studio and inaugurating this next step in my life as a painter.

Last night, in a wonderful as well as powerful phone call with N, I gave him my ideas for what, how and why I'm going to show this particular series. He concurred.

Today I need to cull the work and make decisions.

Once it's up, I'll take a photo and share my ideas about it here.

In addition, today I'm also feeling the vastness of 3000 miles. Sometimes it doesn't matter how close emotionally because even in that, there are moments when the physically distance is wearing.

t-shirt:

Although busting to tell the whole world last night...I waited until I shared it with N first.





I have a studio space!

All I need to do now is connect with the artist who's moving out to arrange schedules and get the keys. I'll see if we can get together this weekend. On Wednesday, it will officially be my work space.

Last night after meeting at the studio, I cried on the way home. Feelings of awe, excitement and disbelief overtook me. And it's daunting. All of a sudden I felt my responsibility to the work.

This is very good.

Busy day today. And tonight I'm meeting with the artist who holds the lease on the space. I should know if I definitely have the studio. I'm looking forward to moving all my art stuff over there and reclaiming my kitchen table and living space.

Even more than that, I'm already dreaming about the wall space to hang work in progress to study it at the same time. What a luxury!

And...the space to work big is exciting. Just the idea gets me wet.

What's this?



And this?



The first is around the side...and the second is across the street of what may be my new and very first, not in a second bedroom or living room, studio space!

I looked at the space yesterday afternoon. Even before entering the building, while walking around, I could see myself there. Meeting the artist who I'd be replacing was a treat. Her energy was warm and wonderful. Walking into the studio (shared with 3 other artists) was also amazing. Immediately I calmed down. They are also painters. Although they weren't there, I could feel the diligence they bring to their work just by seeing it. Impressive.

One thing I love...and at times makes it challenging, is the sensitivity I have toward energy. When it's good and clean I feel it right away. It overtakes me and surrounds me. I walked in yesterday...and I knew.

The building is filled with artists. It's part of the first Thursday art walk. My space is on the 4th floor, and it would have a window on the right side. Southern exposure which is perfect for those dark Seattle winters.

I've worked in artistic isolation for 10 years. This new step will be good for me. Surrounded by creative energy will be rejuvenating. Until a few weeks ago I would have never considered sharing open work space and love it when I can open further to see other possibilities.

The icing on the cake is that I'm directly across the street from the ferry dock. I could smell the salt air, and imagined myself going to the water when I'm stuck on a painting or need to take a break.

I told the artist that I wanted the space and could move in the first of August but I definitely wanted to sleep on it. (Just being prudent). So I've slept on it, will call her this morning and we'll set up a time for the other 3 painters to meet me. And if it continues to go well...I'll have a work space!


This week's Freewill Astrology.

Last night I worked some more on drawing copies of Old Masters works. And I'm committed to doing a little more tonight. It's a way of creating some sort of discipline again.

My day job this week is intense because it is of one those weeks with many complicated reports needed all at the same time. I'm back at work full time. It was nice not having the desire to fall asleep at 2 pm.


I'm working hard at not closing myself off. It's a funny thing. I think I begin to get the hang of it, go deeper, and then one of my old monsters shows up and next thing I know, I'm engulfed in fear and defenses. It's not an easy thing.

And the thing is, those monsters aren't real. They once were. A long time ago. Hanging onto my fear breathes life into the illusion. But it IS only an illusion.

A couple times over the last few years back I wrote about radical sex. I mentioned it was all about intimacy...not about how kinky or sex-positive we are. Our kink is surface stuff. Yes, s/m can assist with touching dark places. There have been intense scenes and breakthroughs that have risen from the depths of dungeon play. But the big question is "can I touch those places with another...without props?"

Being truly naked.

And how can we be naked with others if we can't be naked with ourselves...allowing ourselves to sit in the brutal honesty of self-realization that is filled with discomfort?

When I first mentioned self-intimacy as the most radical sexual act ...I had no idea of the depth. Now, I have a somewhat better sense. Yet this small increase in awareness informs me that I don't know anything.

Last week my shrink spoke to me of risk-taking. And, I'm afraid. When I think of the big scary things I've done in my life, seeing my fear now, this terror...is profound. It touches a part of my heart that has been so walled up.

I honestly don't know if I have the courage to live a life of greater integrity and vulnerability and it's eating me up inside.

Yesterday I ran to Utrecht's to pick up an inexpensive large drawing pad. Cheap paper. For playing and loosening up.

Although I have many ideas in my head for paintings, I just can't get there. Once again, as happened two years ago, I'm feeling squeezed out of my space. It feels so small and even the idea of painting seems incredibly difficult. I know I can do it. I've been doing it. But now...not so much.

I don't want to let my practice grind to a halt. I need to work. So graphite came to mind. Work pencil on paper. I began by playing and doodling...loosening up my hand by moving large chunks of graphite around. Then I ached for something darker and out came my Sharpie.

Afterward I even needed to step back from that. Simple scribbles felt like too much. I pulled out art books of some of the Masters and began copying in an attempt to regain some discipline without having to worry about composing a piece, yet instead honing my technique.

I fear I've lost my focus. There is much difficulty in sitting down and really engaging in the work. I'm hopping from one to another...never buckling down and chewing away. But I'm going to continue trying.


Today Phil had us over for D's homemade ice cream...peach and strawberry. There were also sorbets: watermelon, blueberry, lime and grape. Fabulous stuff.

When I walked into their home I saw this...



How could I not shoot it?

Last night's pot de creme from Smith's Pub 'n Grub. As you can see, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Smith's is a new bar a few blocks from my house. Dark walls filled with many old paintings, dead animals and antlers without heads. The menu includes devilled eggs and poutine. Not bad at all.

Although I thoroughly enjoyed the first three Harry Potter books, I never got around to reading the others. So I have some work to do to play catch up.

I'm blogging from Hot Dish, waiting for friends for brunch.

There is much on my mind and so blogging is a little challenging right now. I'm focused on the gauntlet thrown down by my shrink. This means you're getting blog-lite from me.

Yesterday I saw Ratatouille again. 10 of us gathered together. 3 of us experienced it for the second time. We almost filled a whole row. Much laughter. I caught more details this time around. The creator of the film is definitely a sadist.

Lesson we took from the movie: If you don't like it, don't swallow.

Fun t-shirt I saw a few days ago:
Everytime you see a rainbow
God is having gay sex.

Gentle spirits are rare. I truly cherish the ones in my life.

Today my shrink was thrilled that I began the process of reclaiming my blog. I showed him both..the original entry and the edits I did later in the afternoon. And yet, it wasn't enough for him. The man pushes...and pushes. I can tell him the good things, and he'll smile and acknowledge the work to then say "what about this...or that?" I appreciate the fact that he's a tough taskmaster. He doesn't let me rest. For a couple weeks now, I've returned to seeing him once a week instead of once every two or three.

Finally got my hair chopped today. A little scissor action, a little razor and a little buzzing. It's been far too long.