This week at work...reports, reports, reports.
Tonight...art walk.
This weekend...laundry, rest and paint. And must ship out three paintings to California. And spend time with a few friends.

I was honored to assist in the creation and be central to a performance piece while camping...and while perfect in and of itself, has the added bonus of providing material for a new series of paintings due to the audio recording that took place during the experience.

Life is good.

Adventures upon adventures. The familiar and unknown. A push. A push. Pushing into depths of pain and darkness and rushing through to light.

Today...seven hours at work, a couple hours at home and then a fabulous five hours in the studio. I really needed to reclaim that space after a zooey busy few months that essentially stalled my daily painting practice.

The studio is finally clean and set up for this week's Art Walk. I was even able to do a drawing. Now, time to sleep.

My weekend:

No computer.
No phone.
No politics.
No drama.
No consumerism.

Instead there was lots of family and friends, old and new, and touching and playing and hot tubbing and campfires and laughter and tears and crackling and pumping and pounding and touching and sucking and strikes and strokes and kissing and conversations and puppies and bunnies and wine and cigars and art and rope and connecting and cumming and glow sticks and pool noodles and nakedness and singing and loving.

All sorts of awesomeness.

Back from camp. It was amazing, restful, invigorating, calming, and brilliant. Now it's time for a shower and then early to bed.

Taken while on 99N yesterday.
Today I'm going camping. Back on Monday. Have a great weekend!

Very nice day with my best friend. Time at the water, walk in the sun, then a lovely dinner and a little music in Pioneer Square.

Sunday at the Olympic Sculpture Park

Last night I was enjoying a little quiet on the bus before it fills up three stops later.

This painting in a previous incarnation made the cover of January's Real Change newspaper. In March I tipped it on its side and began a new painting and worked it for a few weeks. Then it sat.

Two weeks ago, someone contacted me about purchasing the original painting. I had to tell her that it no longer existed. It was the third time in a month that people wanted to buy a painting that had disappeared because I painted over it.

Today I finally returned to the painting and am slowly going back into it. It's a crummy photo - the blue cast on the right is a shift in the lights in the studio. 48"x48", oil on canvas

I'm attempting to keep some of the looseness, the drawing lines and some transparent glazes while at the same time trying to build up the piece. Slow going.

This weekend is an annual camping weekend with some groovy folks including a few I consider family. I'm so very much looking forward to time away, in the woods, with a pool, and a hot tub, surrounded by sexy naked people. I'm bringing a book, my journal, a sketchpad, and other goodies...such as my fave toy - a very thin carbon fiber rod. And I will not have my computer. Thus far I'm excited about the play planned with various folks as well as excited to see what else unfolds.

After the crazy, busy last few months, it will be nice to get away for a bit. Time to make out my list (ha...I first typed "my life").

And...

I heart campfires.

The photo is of a piece that is hanging at the Ugly Mug in the UDistrict. They are dogs but remind me of fish and of sperm. I'm captured by its starkness as well as the contrast between the 3D, the flat line, the shadows of the dogs on the surface. Its charm makes me smile. And dachshunds are just plain silly.


I spent the weekend in a 2 day course on art and criticism. It was a perfect size class of six students and small enough to facilitate good discussions. Much art was viewed and experienced. As I told the group at the end of our weekend, I now have even more questions than what I walked in with but it's good stuff to gnaw on. What an enriching weekend!

Part of the questions involve my painting. Again, I could feel the slow build in questioning my purpose. Why do I paint what I paint? What strikes me? How do I, although analytical, am strongly a feeling person...and my art comes from that feeling place, find a place for my work in a world where thought appears to be elevated above the act of creation?

I like to paint. I need to paint. Mark making is shape shifting and is how I interpret my world. It is my attempt to make some kind of sense of what I see. As a tactile person, it needs to come from my hands.

Last night while at dinner with friends, one of them, a photographer, was relaying his current process of questioning his art. I shared my current similar quandary and then reminded myself by articulating to him that questioning my purpose can paralyze my practice.

While in line at the Croc Sunday night in Belltown, I looked up and was treated to this view. Framed by the window and the peeling paint, there is a sense of importance. A treasured object sitting on its altar. Does someone still use that machine? If so, what do they make with it? Or is it part of the room's decoration? Or, maybe it belonged to someone's grandma and it is cherished for its memories.

As I'm looking at the photo this morning it brings back memories of my mom: the painter, the toy maker, the clothing designer, the decorator. She used to make many of our clothes...shirts and pants and dresses and coats. Mom would create the designs and cut out her own patterns. Adding details such as appliques of bright colored tulips on black velvet dresses and finding the perfect buttons for little plaid coats.

It's a comforting image, returning me to a time of innocence and nurturing. It wasn't idyllic, but definitely simpler.

I love this mountain.  From the first time I saw it back in 1998, I called it the ghost mountain.  It seems to appear at will.  And sometimes, when atmospheric conditions are just right, it appears to double or triple in size.  And other times when there is a bank of clouds near the base, it floats.

Yesterday was a cloudless, bright blue day and I strolled down the pier and noticed the mountain's massive presence. It never fails to take my breath.

Although I had other plans and couldn't attend any Pride events, all my memories of Pride weekends and its rich history were on my mind. Yesterday, I was able to take this...and today as the Needle is barren, it becomes one more memory.

Here is my neighborhood, shot by jseattle, all decked out for Pride.

Heading to the car after a wonderful painting session yesterday evening, I stopped to enjoy the light.

This morning's email brought a nice surprise - a review of my current show. Saturday is the final reception.

From the essay by Pete Milosovich:

"Ms. Gagnon’s powerful use of space creates an unyielding sense of depth and structure further emboldened by subdued earth tones, an intricate display of color and texture; decisive strokes that capture the design from broad opaque lines of black to the thinnest array of lines accenting the essential contour of constructed inorganic surfaces. When viewed as a whole the entire structure seems to vibrate with the emotionally charged immediacy of an impassioned blueprint of incredible design…forever eternalized."

You can read the entire piece here.

And here are a couple photos that Pete Milosovich took at the gallery a few weeks ago while I was working in my little sketchbook. This is part of a series of drawings that really rest my mind and make my hand happy.

I'm still working the Jill paintings. This one is 30"x40" and this is where it's at after this evening's painting session. Although I like portions of it, I'm not quite sure where I want it to go. But, I'm enjoying the journey.

Tidbits...

One thing you never want to hear from your dentist is "oh shit" and then "well, I tried". It happened after the psychologically grueling process of taking the first impression which freaks me out because I'm afraid that my teeth will come out when they pull the sticky impression stuff out of my mouth. And then he informed me they needed to do it again. But other than that, I have an amazing dentist and have been with him over 11 years.

The photo is another from that wonderful poster wall on Capitol Hill.

Tonight, I may actually have studio time with my studio mate. Our schedules haven't synched up in a while and it's always fun to be working side by side.

The Metropolitan Museum has a wonderful series called Connections. It’s a little slide show that is hosted by one of their staff on various topics, with new Connections every Wednesday. You can sign up at the site to receive new shows each week. This week they speak of … the dysfunctional families of the Olympian gods.

They are really good to experience. You can hit the main page with the different subjects at www.metmuseum.org/connections.

I talked with a friend this morning and it looks as if I may do two weeks on the east coast at the end of September, beginning of October.

A female scientist dives naked with Beluga whales in the Arctic. I wonder how long she could stay in the water. The photos are gorgeous.

That's it.

When one hasn't slept well in a while, even 5 solid hours makes a difference. And that's saying a lot for a girl who normally needs 7 - 8 hours of deep sleep. Quite productive today. It was a ten hour work day which included chasing Bodie around the office, and then a bus ride down to the studio where I enjoyed a beet/chicken salad with red wine, a couple teddy bear ginger cookies, completed this painting, and also managed to include a total hour of walking. It felt really good to get all that in there.

This isn't the painting I saw when I woke. I haven't started that one yet but am pretty pleased with the colors in this little painting. It's 12"x16", oil on canvas.