The street next to my apartment is one of the steeper ones on Capitol Hill. About 8:30 last night, I stepped outside to immerse myself in the quiet of a snow-covered dark. Walking to the corner, I noticed on the next block down, about 10 people in the middle of the street and headed over to see what was happening. I found 4 plastic recycled dumpster lids on the ground.

Folks were sledding!




They were sledding from 13th down to 12th. 12th Ave E is a bigger street and so there were peope stationed at the intersection keeping an eye out for cars and shouting up when it was clear to sled.




About 9pm, I noticed someone walking up the hill. It was Matt. He had heard there was sledding on E. Republican and so went out for a walk. By that point, because I had intentionally only planned on being out for a few minutes, ran to my apartment to put on my boots and fleece pullover, so I could stay out longer. The crowd was gathering and there was much frivolity in the air.

When I returned to the corner, I noticed an increase in creative sleds. Folks were coming with cardboard...waxy cardboard boxes. Someone mentioned the chicken box was the fastest. Another actually brought up a wheelchair, and yes, that chair went down a few times.




There was a funky plastic sled with cool steering, and a Flexible Flyer, which I haven't seen in many, many years.



And yes, even a kitchen sink.




Throughout the evening, there were a few tries to slide down in the sink but it wasn't working. The best attempt, although still not successful, was when the sink was placed in a suitcase.

Frisbees, and pizza pans, and old plastic signs were used. The crowd continued to gather..increasing to about 50 people, positioned on various parts of the hill. We were enjoying the energy and the playfulness. By 10:30 I was freezing, having been out for a couple hours. So I suggested mochas from the coffee shop because I didn't want the evening to end just yet. We walked up and the shop had closed early. I then remembered a bar on the next corner that served espresso and so we picked up a couple mochas to go. When we returned to the sledding corner a 2nd floor apartment on the corner opened its windows and provided great tunes for us to enjoy.

A cop car came by and I wondered if it would be the end of the party. But he got out, watched, smiled, hung out a bit and then left, returning to his duties...




Throughout the 3 hours, there was an ongoing bet from a guy. He was going to give $20 to whoever could make it all the way down, while standing. Many tried, a couple of them came so close...but no winners.





Matt went down quite a few times. I sledded once. About halfway down you picked up speed because the road turned to ice at that point. It was a serious blast. I wanted to go down again, but having slid off the dumpster lid sled and rolled onto the snow, my gloves were saturated, jeans snowy and my toes, frozen. I could have dealt with the cold feet if my hands warmed up. What I should have done was borrow someone's gloves for a second run.

Next time.




It was a spontaneous 3 hours of joyousness. Strangers, coming together to play, enjoy the cold, snow and ice...and in that, found a warmth.

Last night was a benefit for Three Dollar bill Cinema. It was a wonderful evening at Central Cinema...in a small (about 175 seats) theater, enjoying wait service for food and wine while watching Auntie Mame on the big screen. I'd only seen it on dvd and so screening it with Matt, Roger and D, and a room filled with queers, many who knew the lines, made for a fun evening.

Yesterday the schools were closed due to snow. But it snowed around Seattle and not in it. We remained dry.

This morning, at 5:30, I was awakened by what sounded like thunder. Or may be an explosion. It wasn't a sharp crack and my groggy mind was confused. Another minute later there was another long-rolling boom and a flash. I jumped out of bed and peered outside. It was snowing. And yes, it was thunder.

Thundersnow.

Who woulda thunk?

My therapist's office this morning, while waiting in the car for my appointment.



But this is what going to see him normally feels like~



And, this was my apartment courtyard about 9:30 a.m. (The 13 goldfish in the pond are still okay)




It's still snowing and it's so very pretty. I walked up two blocks to 15th and it really felt like a small town, more than usual. Everyone was out. A few were carrying rolled up plastic sleds. Some had used their cross country skis and had parked them against the entrance of Cafe Lladro. The video store and grocery store were busy and all the coffee shops were filled with folks.

Tonight is our holiday board meeting. There are 25 members on our board of directors. They are brilliant, creative, compassionate visionaries. We are fortunate to have and have had such a group which has always resulted in an amazing relationship of mutual trust and respect between the board and the staff. Each year we do something inventive. Most times it would be creating songs and poems for each board member. This year each of the staff decided to make cookies/candy for them, compiled into packages and labeled.

One question:

Why is it that when you're in an empty restaurant or theater, enjoying the space, someone will walk in and feel the need to sit right next to you? Not even a couple booths away, but smack dab next to you?

It's curious behavior and it happens often. Fascinating.

The weather is frigid. I've never experienced such cold here...the 10 years I've been in Seattle. It's invigorating and familiar, bringing back good memories.

And yet, it's taking a little getting used to. My body's not used to it. I had to dig into the back of my closet to find a warmer scarf and gloves and scrounge for a hat. On top of it, our heat went out at work on Friday. Today was a balmy 48 degrees in the office, so after an hour, I went home and worked from there most of the day. It should be fixed tomorrow...

Tonight, I headed for Cafe Septieme, desiring a quiet, warm place where I could enjoy a glass of red and a salad, sit and write for a bit. It was relaxing and the perfect place to begin some writing that I've been putting off for a while now. It felt good to sit and write by hand, page upon page. Something different happens when using pen and paper instead of typing on a keyboard. In a way, it feels more holistic...and more natural. Less cold. I need to return to it more often. It's important.

Today, my friend Bill posted another photograph from his exciting new series. This latest photo reminded me of paintings I've been meaning to post.

There are two paintings (each 16"x20"), done in 2001, when I was feeling pretty raw...exposed. They are in my home and greet me whenever I walk in the door. I've been paying extra attention to them lately, because they are more relevant now than they were 7 years ago.

This afternoon while attempting to shoot them I realized why I hadn't shown them here. For some reason, they are really tough to photograph and this doesn't capture the color of each nor the translucency of the bottom painting. Please pardon the poor photo quality.

Early yesterday evening, on my way home from Matt's wonderful gathering, it began flurrying. This morning our world is covered in a thin blanket of snow and ice. Treacherous to walk and drive in and beautiful to look at. Snow in Seattle isn't a common winter occurance because it normally doesn't get cold enough.

I wondered how the goldfish in our courtyard pond were faring.

I'm still getting over a nasty cold/sinus infection. It cut short all of yesterday's plans. Last night was a benefit for an artist in town and although I wanted to attend, needed to head home after M's so I could crawl in bed with tea and kleenex.

It was an auction to raise money for hospice care for Su Job and one auction I felt very honored to take part in. At the beginning of November, Su, 52 years old, learned she had terminal cancer. Some artists came together to create a fundrasier to assist for hospice care. Su manages our 619 arts building. An artist and much-loved teacher, I'd always wanted to meet her but never had the opportunity. She lives in the Tashiro Kaplan artist live/work lofts and would like to stay, for the remainder of her time.

I did make it to the gallery in the afternoon to see the show. The work donated was wonderful. There was quite a selection and it felt the walls were filled with love.

This week, Jen Graves, of The Stranger, wrote a poignant piece on Su - An Artist, Dying. Very moving. Check out the link.

Su's art website is found at www.sujob.net. Take a peek at her portfolio. A fiber artist, she worked in 2D as well as sculpture. I remember seeing her delightful soft porn pieces a few years back - needlepoint sex art. Delicious.

Jen's article about Su has sat with me this week. It's left me feeling humbled. Her grace during this massive change...I can't imagine what she's going through. Su's attitude about her impending physical death has brought up many questions and feelings that I can't put words to it yet, but hope to put it into art soon.

Today I began the big painting. Friday and Saturday I prepped and toned the canvas. Sunday was a day off.

On the bus ride downtown, I realized I was nervous to actually start painting. It's been about 13 years since my last large canvas. And, knowing what these paintings emotionally bring up for me, there was a fair amount of anxiety wondering if the scale of the work would be proportionate to the amount of stuff dredged up.

Placing the canvas on the easel, I decided to simply draw in the shape and begin laying down color. Normally, I'd have taken the time to choose color (even though I'd rework it many times afterward) and be really mindful about where I'd draw the rectangle. This afternoon it felt more prudent to dive in, knowing I'll probably change the placement and size of the block.

The photo was taken about halfway through today's session but the entire surface is now covered in paint...and my insides, covered in tears. While heading home, I wondered if I was crazy to do this...jumping deeper into old wounds via painting.

And yet, in spite of all this, there is an excitement about going bigger. The new piece isn't massive (only 3x5 feet), but it's the next step toward even larger work.

An afternoon with E., food, a walk and the Seattle Asian Art Museum. Today was the last day for Inspired Simplicity: Contemporary Art from Korea. I first saw the show in August and fell for much of the work. At that time, the simple/complex nature of the pieces spoke to me in a profound manner and was the beginning of a breakthrough that led to my current work. I still remember the exact moment and location in the SAAM when the initial spark and rush of creativity surged through me.

It was good to get out. I woke feeling somewhat off and wasn't sure if being with others would help. But getting in the fresh air, seeing art, and going for a good walk with a friend assisted with taking a little of the edge off.

Faux Snow~

Walking to the bus yesterday after spending an afternoon in the studio, I stopped at the light and looked up. Snow was shooting out of the second story of the hotel on the corner of 1st and Madison. It was such a tease because it rarely snows in Seattle and in that moment, I wanted more.

Instead of taking photos at last night's art walk, I chose to do quick little sketches and worked many small pages of fast scribbles. I'm determined to get my drawing hand back and very slowly...with this new regimen, it's happening.

In studying the various ways people sketch, I'm seduced into doing it like some of them, and then judging my own hand pretty negatively. What entices me are the cleaner...more controlled drawings. In the last few days, I'm coming to term with the fact that I'm a scrawler. Lots of lines. And although it's a really good exercise (which I won't stop) to try other ways of drawing, I need to be comfortable with my own hand. It shouldn't be hard...but it is. You see, Alberto Giacometti has been one of my art gods for almost 15 years. So in addition to the starker pieces, I'm hugely drawn to expressiveness. Here is one of his sketches. And here is another.

All this drawing exploration, in addition to honing my skills, is another method of learning self-acceptance.

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

I shared this with some folks yesterday, but thought I'd post it here as well:


New iPhone art application~

I don't own an iPhone but this application is a huge…huge enticement. It's called Brushes.

The first time I noticed it was on Urban Sketchers, which I check every morning. It's my motivation for my daily drawing. One of the artists had completed their sketch on their iPhone. You can see it here.

Very intrigued, I googled for Brushes and found a site by an artist who works for Dreamworks in SF. He discovered the application at the beginning of October and is hooked. His paintings, all done with the app on his iPhone are phenomenal. Check it out...and scroll down.

And here is the kicker - You can download the application for only $5.. It will work on iPhones and iPod Touch.

It's wintry cold this morning. But the skies are clear.

Last night a few of us had dinner at the italian restaurant near my studio before heading over to the preview of the Forgotten Works Challenge show. Walking in, we were warmly greeted by the bartender, who regularly waits on me for dinner before each First Thursday, immediately offering me a glass of red. It felt like home.

What surprised me was the owner greeted me as jovially and asked me about my art and where my studio was. It was curious, although delightful, because I hadn't seen him before. It was a really pleasant moment.

During dinner, the owner brought us a little bowl of home-cured olives that he had just prepared...for a treat.

Last month's first Thursday, after paying our bill, the owner sent out some homemade gelato for us to try...which was quite delicious.

Those are the kind of touches and connections that keep me loyal to an establishment.

I think I'm coming down with a cold but don't want to succumb to it. Tonight's the art walk, and then I really, really want to prep the 3x5 foot canvas tomorrow so I can begin painting this weekend.

Still working little daily sketches.

These are a few photos from my little hot pink 3 foot feather tree I put up in the studio this week.

First Thursday Art Walk this week.
619 Western Ave - 4th floor south
The Sophia Room
6-9 pm

Yesterday evening, I cleaned up my space, reorganized my storage closet/loft to stack all the paintings that were laying around and even put up the little hot pink feather holiday tree with its little white lights. It's the first time I'm ready a couple days early. Normally, I'm still setting things up about an hour or two before the doors open.

This month, in addition to wine, I'll pick up cider and serve fun cookies. A trip to Trader Joe's is in order.

Also on Thursday, the opening night of the Forgotten Works Challenge - 30 paintings in 30 days is also taking place. I'll be there when the doors open at 5, but then head over to my studio for art walk before 6. This show is being held at the Tashiro Kaplan artists lofts. In a couple weeks, they are also holding a benefit art event to raise funds for Su Jobs, a wonderful artist and teacher, to assist with her hospice care.

There is a preview of the 30 in 30 show tonight, from 5 - 8 and I'll be there as well. It's the only time to see the 1500 piece exhibit in its entirety. Tomorrow's opening is filled with zaniness because once a piece is purchased (all $40) it immediately gets taken off the wall. This year they are adding an extra day, Saturday from 12-5.

Here are some of the pieces in the Forgotten Works show.

And here are some shots from last year's Forgotten Works Challenge show at the OK Gallery.

It's been a very busy few days, and there's no time yet to relax. Between work, and then prepping for the First Thursday Art Walk, as well as the preview screening on Wednesday and opening of the Forgotten Works Challenge on Thursday...it has me hopping.

I think I can rest on Friday.

Isn't that a sexy crane? It's around the corner from the studio. On Sunday it was shrouded in fog...looked so good...and I was so busy I kept forgetting to bring my camera down to shoot it.

The new easel.

It's so much prettier and bigger than my old aluminum Stan-rite (which is seen just behind the new one.) We picked up the easel and previously purchased art supplies today, brought them down to the studio in the truck, assembled the easel...and then I wanted to begin a big painting. Huge desire. But with First Thursday art walk this week, and the 30in30 preview show on Wednesday, there isn't any time to really work before I'd have to throw it in storage until the weekend. Painting needs to wait.

On top of being able to handle 96" canvas, an additional bonus which wasn't discovered until we were putting it together is that it tilts to a full horizontal position. So I've also gained a work table. That seriously thrills me.

It's been an expensive weekend...and yet cheaper than what it could have been. Over $1,200 in canvas, paint, brushes, gallon of gesso and an easel for a total of $500. I did some serious stocking up, taking advantage of their weekend sales.

Little by little the studio is evolving into a more committed space.

Leaving the Egyptian Theater, heading south on Harvard while walking down to the studio, I notice all the trees on both sides of the street are budding and blossoming. At the end of November. Although roses bloom in December and camellias in January, I've never before noticed these flowering at this time of year. So strange and very pleasing.

Size does matter.

Utrecht is having a big sale this weekend in selected stores. In addition to regular items on sale, their brushes, paint and canvas are 50% off. Yet not all at the same time nor for all day. Yesterday for the first 3 hours it was brushes. Today it's canvases for 3 hours and tomorrow, paint. The timing is so seriously perfect.

For the last few weeks, the paintings I've been working have been crying for big. I can tell they need to get much larger. So yesterday, 6 new brushes including a few big ones to work big canvas. Today, it's large canvas purchase. I'll work up slowly, beginning with 3x5 feet paintings. And tomorrow...I'll be back for a buttload of paint.

Also, the desire to work larger means another easel. While at the store yesterday, I found it...deeply discounted and it'll hold canvas up to 96". So I'm going to make a dent in my credit card, but for this, it's worth it.

I don't believe bigger is better for all paintings. As in all things, context is key. With these paintings...I can envision wall size pieces. The logistical nightmare involved with massive work scares me but the painting possibilities are exhilarating.

From Thanksgiving dinner at Phil's. It was a good time with much fab food, hearty laughter, dirty, dirty talking which is par for our group, drinks and wonderful company. S. had texted me earlier, asking me to bring my sketchbook that I've been doing my daily sketches. He also brought his and we did a show and tell with each other. E. shared a sketch as well.

~~~~~~~~~~

I did get to see the new film Milk before dinner and will be seeing it again on Sunday with a group. It's a powerful film...and brought back some intense memories. Tears filled my eyes most of the way through the film. I had forgotten about the Anita Bryant ruckus until it came up in the movie. Shaking filled me inside. At that time in history, I was a jesus freak, and believed as she did. I even read her books at the time, thinking she was so right on. A few years later, I met gay folks, and then a little while after, came out. Watching the film freaked me out because for a couple years of my life...I was one of those christian fundamentals.

Seeing it all played out on the screen brought it home for me, on a much deeper level.

The other thing that moved me was how they were activists. We can either fight against something or for something. It's a subtle difference but I believe an important one. In spite of the attacks from the extreme right, overall, they rallied for their rights. It reminded me of our recent loss with Prop 8 and then the JoinTheImpact rallies. Those rallies a few weeks back, although the energy was clearly different than the '70's, weren't against Mormons or other communities, yet were to unite us in one voice for our civil liberties.

One more thing - what I also noticed in the film was a fire...passion...and a willingness to sacrifice in a way we haven't seen in many years. I was left questioning how much would I put on the line? Unsettling. But in a good way. It forces me to look at myself and see what I would actually die for, risk losing everything for.

If you have the chance to see Milk, do it. If you have to drive a few hours to see it...do it. It's worth it. It's incredibly well done and quite potent.

One of the things I love about my apartment are the big windows in the living and bedroom facing east. Just like this morning, I can sit in my big leather chair and watch the sun bring forth the day.

In the evening, all I need to do is walk to the corner and have the privilege of experiencing the sun go down over the Olympics and Elliot Bay.

For the last few weeks, we've had quite a few stunning sunrises.

Today I'll head down to the studio for a bit, and later on head over for a big dinner with chosen family. In between, depending on time, I have tentative plans to catch the matinee of Milk.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

I took a few days off from studio work as well as blogging. A break was needed.

Today was cold and sunny - a beautiful day to be out. I took some vacation time, left work early and headed down to the studio. I think I finally began to resolve a painting that's been kicking my ass for a while. The color was never quite right. Today, I plopped on the couch, and while happily munching on a lunch of fruit and cheese, I committed to really looking and not leaving until a new color direction came to mind. The aha moment happened, and painting felt like a dream. It's still not complete but by the time I left, the canvas was in a much better place.

On the way back from the studio, I stopped for a spell at Westlake. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, workers prepping for the holidays...




...including the carousel - an annual holiday experience.

The new paintings...in various stages of completion.

A little sketch from the studio today.

It was a pretty day, perfect for brunch with Eric and then down to the studio. My two studio mates were painting away when I arrived. Nice surprise. It's been months since the three of us were working in the space at the same time.

Coming home this evening, the temp felt a little warmer. People were outside, strolling in the dark, enjoying the weather. Cafes were busting with lively conversation. Even though still cold, the outdoor tables were filled with folks.

The sun doesn't come up until about 7:30 am and it now gets dark about 5 pm. This is the time of year I look forward to. There is something delicious about being blanketed in a natural physical dark (instead of an emotional dark). In a strange way, it reminds me of hoods and sleepsacks.

Yesterday was a busy studio day. Although my day off, I popped into the office for 3 hours to do something for a coworker. I was in the studio by 10:30 and worked for a couple more hours. Returned home for a bit and then back to the studio by 3 and worked until 6pm at which point I walked to the pier and met Matt at Ivar's for salmon cakes, raw oysters and booze. The painting is still scary but I mixed it up with many drawings. It felt like a leisurely balance.

A little sketch from this morning outside the studio window.

When I returned home, while cruising the net, I discovered that Obama sketches as well. Check it out. It has a James Thurber feel to it.

Painting vomit...





The new paintings I've been working are working me.

"Just so" would respond my shrink. (I can hear him now.)

I'm trying to get a grip that I'm really painting these deceptively simple looking pieces. It makes no sense...and I wonder with each new piece if I'm deceiving myself...deceiving the world. Maybe I'm not really a painter. It's not the kind of work that ever appealed to me and therefore I never expected myself to be painting it.

Yet...I am.

And it feels like a natural evolution. And I don't know what I'm doing. And it's incredibly scary. And I can't do anything other than do it. Paint this. And it's the hardest painting I've ever done.

Paint. Paint again. Paint over. Not quite right. Where is that color I mixed yesterday? I need it. How did I make it? What do I think I'm doing? This isn't painting, it's masturbation. Is it the same thing? What am I trying to say? How dare I throw this on the canvas? Who the hell do I think I am? Have I lost my mind? Where are all the marks I once loved? Have I gotten lost in the isolation of just trying to be...be me, be honest, be real?

Be present.


This week the horizon line began to disappear from a couple new paintings. New freak out. A block. A block in space. Floating. No ground. The block. Me. My heart. It's torn. It's shredded. It's gone, and yet it's not. I feel the cold of the world and at the same time feel passion.

I'm scared. Don't trust people. Not sure if I trust myself. And yet, I look at these paintings I can't seem to stop doing. Painting something different. Something ludicrous. Something very real. And something lonely.

A poet's gift~




Last night while walking to the bus after a stint in the studio, I was stopped on First Ave & Columbia by a young man.

"Excuse me, may I write a poem for you?"

He was a slender black man, with a heavy accent. I asked him to repeat what he said because I couldn't understand him. He spoke softly and his accent was very thick.

"I am a poet and am from Haiti. May I create a poem for you?"

I flashed back to about 4 months ago when I was walking back to the studio after visiting a few galleries. While crossing the street I was stopped by a man who asked me the same thing. At the time, I was in a rush. "I'm really sorry, I don't have time today. But thank you for asking."

I believe it was the same guy.

Last night, I said yes.

He was holding a pen in his left hand and a little piece of cardboard a little larger than a business card in the palm of his right hand.

"What is your name?"

"Marie."

"M-A-R-Y?"

"Almost. M-A-R-I-E."

In the black of night, lit by street lamps and the light of the bar we were standing in front of, he quickly wrote my name on the cardboard. Each letter, one beneath the other. Then within a couple minutes, he wrote out a little poem. I watched and smiled.

He finished writing and read it to me:

Molding
A promise into your own
Revel of embracing the
Inner positive force that
Embelishes the patience of your heart.

I was struck with disbelief and teared up. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that tonight. Thank you so very much."

He smiled, handed me the little piece of cardboard and was ready to leave. I noticed he had a few more blank pieces of paper under the one he gave me. There was no way I could let him go without giving him something in return. Quickly, I stuffed my hand in my left jeans pocket, stained with paint marks, pulled out a bunch of bills and handed them to him. "Thank you again."

Yesterday was an especially difficult day. I almost didn't get my courage up to go to the studio but had grabbed every specky bit of strength I could find and went in to paint. What else could I do?

And I was rewarded with a small gesture that became a big gift. In the darkness of night, on a busy street, two strangers, a poet and a broken painter, touched each other.

Yesterday was a very full day. Between the business at work and then running to the studio to paint there was no time to work sketches except for my bus doodles.

These are what I do while riding the bus. How much can I capture of people outside while we are driving past? Sometimes, when not too tired, I'll fill page after page on a ride home. My hope is that if I do it enough, one day I'll become skilled.

Haven't done a daily photo in a while. And actually, this one is from about 24 hours ago. But I've decided that for now, I can't post sketches every day. I'm still drawing daily, but it is way too much pressure to sketch and post. While working drawings, getting my hand back, the idea of posting it was always in my head. With that, I couldn't relax into the piece and would lose a sense of freedom. It defeats the purpose of daily drawings and I need to lighten up on myself. But I will show some periodically.

Really fabulous photo of yesterday's march in Seattle taken by Paul Joseph Brown of the Seattle Post Intelligencer.

More PI photos of the march found here.