Everything is Going to be Okay

Hi.  It’s been a while.  I’ve been busy.  As I’m sure you’re aware, almost overnight the world went from sociable, thriving, “normal”, to socially distant, frightening, and decidedly not normal.  I had to transform my little art business from something based on interacting in public spaces to a not-so sociable paint-at-home solution.  And let me tell you, through the last few months of scrambling, reinventing, creating, and hustling, I was scared.  I was terrified of losing all I’d built over the last ten years, being unable to pay the bills, and of my loved ones getting ill.  Like so many of you, I lost sleep as I listened to the news and longed for words of reassurance and comfort.  I just wanted someone to tell me everything would be okay.

In the course of a few months, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve seen members of my various communities resolving to work together and face challenges with imagination and creativity. While missing the closeness of others, I’ve been touched by kinds words and generous gestures.  I’ve discovered that my community is largely supportive of those who, when knocked down, pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and try again. 

I still want someone to tell me everything’s going to be okay.  That’s what we all want to hear, but who can possibly tell us that? The world is upside down and topsy turvy, and we’re just trying to hang on.  No one can tell us what tomorrow holds, but I can tell you one thing…in this one moment, right now, while I sit and type this, everything is okay - in just this one moment for sure.  I am breathing.  I can turn and look out the window and see that the sun is still shining even behind clouds, birds are still singing, and trees are still giving.  The world has been through worse.  I can only hope I’ll come out stronger and kinder on the other side.  

Everything is going to be okay.  I’ll just have to say it to myself.  Sure, I’m still worried, but I have faith that I can still create something that people want and need - that I can still do some little thing that will make the world a brighter place.  I’ll just keep on keeping on and creating art from my heart.  I hope you will too.  

Just Paint Over It - Don't Give Up!

New and Improved Daisy painting - 2019

 “Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn” 
― Orson Welles

At a morning paint class a couple of weeks ago, one of the student artists blurted out, “I can’t do this!” in a tone of self-disgust.  With that, she dropped her paintbrush on the table and sat back in her chair in defeat. 

I see this reaction regularly, especially with children.  At almost every community art event, there is inevitably one perfectionist – a child who has set extremely high expectations for themselves and ends up in tears when the paint goes outside the line. 

In both these instances, the aspiring artist had a vision of how she wanted her painting to evolve, and the reality was not living up to the dream.  This moment that I see repeated often at my events, is a great opportunity to teach one of the greatest lessons about painting and a bit of a life lesson at the same time.  My response is always the same: “If you don’t like it, paint over it.”

More often than not, the dissatisfaction stems from one of two sources. Possibly you are expecting perfection.  There is no perfection in art, so stop. Art is not a science.  It is sometimes messy and freeing.  Let it flow. 

Maybe you are trying to replicate a style that is not your own.  You aren’t letting your own vision influence your interpretation. The solution might be as simple as giving yourself a chance to warm up, let go of expectations, set an intention, and get into the flow.  I find that it is good practice to do a preliminary sketch to limber up your creativity.  If you still find yourself at this moment of discontent, just paint over it and start again with a new approach.  Make it your own.  

Consider this; a painting, like our lives, is constantly in a state of evolution. Striving, reaching and never quite attaining are all part of painting and life.  Once you accept your lack of perfection and perhaps, inaptitude, your art will flow more easily and without struggle.  Try to reach a point, where you can say to yourself, I may not be one of the best artists and not everyone will like my work, but that’s okay.  My work is uniquely my own and valuable because of this distinction.

Did you know that it was and is common practice for painters to paint over their old paintings? Apparently Vincent Van Gogh also had moments when he was dissatisfied with his work and threw down his paintbrush in disgust.  Advances in technology have allowed us to see earlier, less impressive versions of the Mona Lisa underneath the famous masterpiece https://listverse.com/2016/03/06/10-hidden-images-discovered-beneath-famous-classic-paintings/.  

Many of my paintings also have years of layers.  I had a daisy painting that I created four or five years ago.  You can see the original version below.  It was nice, but I was never thrilled with it.  I painted it at a time in my life when all I wanted was simplicity.  I half-heartedly tried to sell it at festivals a couple of times, and then gave up. I changed the background color as new shades went in and out of fashion.  I sometimes hung it on a wall in my home. Other times it was getting dusty in a corner of my studio.  One day, I looked at it long and hard and decided to give it a new life.  I had not liked it, because it had no personality. There was nothing there that showed the character of the artist that painted it – me!

Orignal Daisy Painting - 2015

I repainted the background guided by my heart and soul and finally the painting was a reflection of my unique vision of the world.  

I left the original daisies and added color and elements that had meaning to me.  The painting sold very quickly after I finished. I even ended up having to paint another just like it for another client.  Why?  Because I put my unique personality into the piece. Before it had hung mutely on the wall, lacking significance and power.  After, I repainted it; it “spoke” to people.

So in short, your painting is not finished until it is sold and out of your grasp or until you feel a sense of completion.  Neither perfection, nor satisfaction should be your aim.  Be true to your own personal style and the message you speak with your paint.  

Happy painting,

Arianne

 

If you enjoyed this post, considering checking out my book, Approaching the Blank Canvas, Real Talk on Fear, Inspiration and Not Giving Up in Art and Life. It’s full of true tales and tips from my 20+ years of making art for a living. It’s available on Amazon Books and you can also find the link to it and my other books on my DesignsbyArianne website.   

Painting with Love

“When you meet someone

leave them with more love inside

than they started with.”

RH

A couple of years ago, I painted a row of wine bottles on a 16”x20” canvas, and honestly, it wasn’t very good.  So I hid it in the back of the closet never to see the light of day.  Let me tell you, that’s not the only bad painting I have created over the years.  In fact I had a whole stack that I decided to take to the dump.  I was getting ready to throw them into the compactor when a man stopped me. He loaded every single one of them into the back of his truck.  I don’t know what became of those paintings, but it’s true that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.  Since that day, I put all my paintings up for sale, because those that might not be up to my standards might still touch a chord with someone.  I had to set aside my pride.

So, back to my lousy wine bottle painting…one day I decided to simply paint over it and give it another chance to be beautiful and appreciated.  Isn’t that what we all want?  I had fun with it.  I let go of my expectations, because this wasn’t a clean white canvas. It was just a worthless painting that was about to be cast away.  I proceeded to apply turquoise paint, pressing cling wrap into the wet surface to create interesting texture.  I poured paint in the shape of a heart.  I stuck a rose stencil on the heart and dabbed in pink paint. I’m not sure if anyone will like the finished product, but I sure did enjoy the process.  Remember, if you are too concerned about the outcome, you forget to enjoy the experience of applying paint to canvas.  

What’s remarkable to me is how a little bit of love, compassion, and care can change a painting, someone’s day, a life. On that note, Valentine’s Day is right around the corner.  It get’s a bad rap for being a “Hallmark holiday”. Forget about the pressure to purchase the perfect expression of your feelings - the chocolates, flowers, and greeting cards.  Just concentrate on the love part. In fact, I’ve decided to devote the whole month to love and it’s power to positively transform.  On Sunday, February 10, my community art booth at the monthly food and flea will become a “Create Art with Heart” site offering family friendly Valentine related crafts from instant mini selfies to “love rock” painting, and Valentine card making too.  You’ll also find some of my original “heart art” paintings at incredibly affordable prices starting at just $15. If you want to paint a little love yourself, join me in Sanford on Friday, February 8 to paint a choice of three heart subjects. I’m reminded of the words to a song by Jackie DeShannon that my mom liked, “What the world needs now is love, sweet love”.

If you enjoyed this post, considering checking out my book, Approaching the Blank Canvas, Real Talk on Fear, Inspiration and Not Giving Up in Art and Life. It’s full of true tales and tips from my 20+ years of making art for a living. It’s available on Amazon Books and you can also find the link to it and my other books on my DesignsbyArianne website.   

Empty Nest

I have a baby bunny nest in my backyard.  My dog “discovered” it.  I found her scratching at the ground, disturbing the tiny little rabbits.  Not old enough to hop and only distinguishable as rabbits by their tiny pink ears, two of the babies scrambled away to cower in a corner of my patio while I removed my dog.   After a speedy internet search to determine the best course of action, I went back to return the babies safely to their nest.  The rabbits, smaller than the palm of my hand, were unharmed. Warm and quivering, they kicked their tiny little legs against my hand when I lifted them. After carefully placing them inside the shallow space, I covered the opening to the with dry pine straw. See the video of the babies in their nest here.   Thereafter, my dog was banned from her own backyard.  Did I mention that she is a beagle – the breed specifically designed for rabbit hunting?  Henceforth, she objected audibly in the way only a beagle can and protested with vigorous door scratching on a daily basis.    In the coming days, the rabbits and their welfare were constantly on my mind.  I watched vigilantly out the back windows for the return of their mother and found out on a Toronto Wildlife website that she should return once at dawn and once at dusk to nourish the babies for 5 minutes before hopping off to munch on my neighbor’s hydrangeas. I felt like I was a surrogate mother. Those of you out there who have raised children know what it feels like when your babies are in danger.  There were nights when the thunder rumbled and the rain poured out of the sky that I didn't sleep.  One stormy evening, I put a red and white polka dot umbrella over the bush above their nest to keep the downpour from flooding it.  I worried about coyotes, cats, and the red-tailed hawk screeching menacingly nearby  Anxiety crept in when I didn’t see mama rabbit for days.  I prayed that she was simply coming at night.  I peeked at the little furry babies snuggled up together to make sure they were visibly breathing.  Neighbors put in their two cents offering suggestions and urging me to bring them inside.  But I knew this was out of my hands.  These were wild things living by the rules of nature.  They did not need my interference.  I could do more harm then good thinking I understood what they needed.  I needed to stand back and watch them grow and leave the nest and let go of any illusion of control. Still I looked for the mama to return and thought of the slight dry warm weight of the babies in my hand as I returned them to the nest.  One day a head with tiny ears poked out of the nest alertly when I neared, and I knew it was only a matter of time now before they moved on. The next day I found the nest empty.  I gazed with wonder and sweet sorrow at the empty nest. Would they be okay out in the big dangerous world?  What would become of them? I was telling a friend about the baby bunnies over the phone, and he mentioned that all of my babies were leaving the nest, referring to my youngest son who was soon to head off to the college,  I paused as the realization struck me, and the parallels became apparent - knowing how difficult it will be to let go and trust that he will make the right decisions and be okay - having the faith to believe that I have done my job and nature will take it’s course.   I haven’t seen the babies since.  They are off hopping around living their bunny lives somewhere out of sight.  I do see their mama still (photo above), munching clover in my yard.  My neighbor gave the mama bunny a name – she calls her Faith.   For tips on dealing with empty nest syndrome, I suggest this excellent article.

My Friend Wears Her Scars on the Outside

My Friend Wears Her Scars on the Outside

Scars.  Most people have them.  Some you can’t see.  I have a friend who wears her scars on the outside.  Four deep indentations running in a dashed line from hip bone to ankle – four incisions made by a surgeon in a last ditch effort to drain fluid and save her leg and her life after she ended up in septic shock from an infection. 

She wears her scars where everyone can see, and she cannot forget. People blatantly stare.  She survived the battle but she carriers these souvenirs and the chronic pain. She returned home from the hospital, but there was no victory celebration, no cheering crowds and waving flags. 

She just wants to know that it meant something.  Everyone says things happen for a reason.  Well, hell if she knows what the reason is.  Everyone says she is supposed to be grateful that she has her leg and her life.  She wants something good to have come of this. 

Now she is supposed to appreciate every precious moment.  She should be full of love, gratitude and faith.  She almost died, so now she should value life more than others.  She is supposed to have a lesson to teach the world.  She is supposed to turn her tragedy into triumph.  She should be over it by now.  But she is not.  She feels pain.  It is hard to shift her focus from this lingering reminder. 

She wants someone to listen and understand.  Sometimes she just wants to curl up and feel sorry for herself.  What she wants more than anything else is not to have to be the survivor, the warrior, and the inspiration.  She just wants to be the person she was before all of this.  She wants to be carefree; to feel like bad things can’t possibly happen to her, like death is a distant mystery. 

She survived the battle, but now she knows something she can never forget.  Every single moment of this life we are just hanging onto life by the most fragile of threads.  We are all vulnerable, and this knowledge is so scary. 

My friend with the scars on the outside, if you can find peace with your precarious mortality, maybe you will no longer struggle.  When you can leave the past where it needs to be and not let it taint your present moment with your loved ones, you can truly live again.  When you can tell your story in a way in which your triumph shows to people who truly listen and attempt to understand, maybe you can move one to the next chapter.

If you wear your scars on the outside, if you hide them on the inside, if something or someone has knocked you to the ground so hard you thought you could not get back up: pick yourself up, dust yourself off, spit that dirt out of your mouth and stand tall and ready to fight another day.  You have become one of the beautiful people whose courage shines from your eyes - who looks out at the world with the audacity to say, “What else you got? Bring it on.”  You no longer put up with pettiness, injustice, and cruelty.  You have no time to beat around the bush.  And if someone is rude enough to stare blatantly at your scars, you can say, “You see these scars?  Go ahead and take a good look.  I fought death and won.  I learned something.  Time on this earth is precious and I don’t have time for this bull****.”. 

Unexpected (and Short-Lived) Beauty

The park was a mess after a night of Spring storms with muddy puddles and tree litter covering the walkways and raindrops still falling from the tree canopy.  I was tired, and my brain was also littered with unfinished projects, worries, and the seeds of potential ideas.  The world was gray and gloomy.  Then I turned a corner and was startled by the sight of the fallen pink and white azalea blossoms in piles of petals on the pavement brightening the world with their unexpected beauty.  

The weight of the water had knocked the flowers from the bushes where they were carelessly scattered by the morning breeze before settling in heaps against curbs and retaining walls.  Their fragrance lingered on the breeze along with the scent of damp earth.  I was sad that they would quickly turn brown and wither, but thrilled with the unexpected sight of their fallen glory.

I was reminded of the 75 tulip bulbs I planted in the first year of my marriage in my very first home, full of hope and promise.  I carefully buried them in the soil like tiny treasures.  I awaited their blossoming with eager anticipation.  I watched their progress daily.  When they bloomed, I was thrilled with the brilliant red petals and couldn't wait to get home to them at the end of a work day.  For two days, I enjoyed their perfection.  On the third day, a windstorm blew in during the day.  When I returned home from work, all that was left were the green stems.  The red petals were strewn across the green grass like remnants of a bloody battle.  I enjoyed them for only two days.  

Beauty and wonder is often fleeting, and maybe that's what makes it prized.  It is not something we can hang onto.  It will surely pass, but something unexpected is waiting around the next corner.  Just remember to keep looking and expecting the unexpected.  

I Can't Draw

"I can’t draw." 

I can’t tell you how many times I've heard this comment.  First of all, everyone can draw.  You just don't think you draw well - whatever that means. Second, feeling like you can't is all the more reason to try! Isn't that what we teach our kids?  Set an example for them.  

The problem is that most beginning artists are hung up on realism and accurate reproductions of objects, landscapes, and people. Realism is only one style of art. If I wanted to look at a cup, I could get one out of my cupboard. I don’t need to look at an exact replica of a cup rendered in paint hanging on my wall. 

While the skill of realistic reproduction is impressive, I would much rather see someone’s impression of a cup, no matter how wonky. If I’m teaching a class with a cup as the subject, I would love to see twelve very different interpretations, and I love that one funky cup painting that stands out with it's originality. 

So you think you are a terrible artist?  I don’t believe it. Come out to one of my classes and show me. Then I’ll show you an exoressionist or abstract masterpiece worth more than a hundred thousand dollars that isn’t all that different. Besides, if we only do the things we are good at and don’t challenge our assumptions, we will never grow. You might have a hidden talent to reveal. It is better to paint flowers that look "flower-ish" than not to try to paint at all.  

Need more convincing? Check out the book, ish. It is disguised as a book for children but it shares a valuable lesson for all ages about appreciating your own artistic impression. If you're pressed for time, just watch to the video of the book. And do share it with your kids, so they never say, "I can't draw”.  

If you enjoyed this post, considering checking out my book, Approaching the Blank Canvas, Real Talk on Fear, Inspiration and Not Giving Up in Art and Life. It’s full of true tales and tips from my 20+ years of making art for a living. It’s available on Amazon Books and you can also find the link to it and my other books on my DesignsbyArianne website.