More on Show

Want to take a little tour with the artist? Step this way....

As you come in the door to the Belfast Free Library, directly across from you next to the elevator hangs this Portrait of Rodney Dennis.


Rodney Dennis was Manuscript Librarian of Houghton Library. He lived in Cambridge, MA and Union, ME. Thanks to Christie Dennis for commissioning and loaning the painting.


Across the room, you'll probably notice first the big picture called What Is, of Kathleen Hannan, conducting singing up to a high note at an interfaith celebration.


It's at the end of the wall across from you, which you might glance at...



...before you see that right next to you, as you still stand by the door, is a wall of little mirrors, ending with a small angel altar on the left.



At the right side of this wall is the artist's statement. Want to read it?


The first two (glass) mirrors have little vases inset in front of them, with an offering of a few small flowers. They are both called Made Mostly of Water, like the flowers are. If you look into them, you might consider that you are part of that same flow and freeze and melt, the drops and waves of life.


These two pieces were very loosely inspired by the photos of water crystals exposed to a variety of concepts, in Masaru Emoto’s The Hidden Messages of Water.




They're roughly 12" high, made with layers of handmade papers, some sewn together and then cut with a chenille cutter and raised in grooves. The one directly above has composition silver leaf crumpled and inset at the top.

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The piece in the middle is called Mirror of Transition. When my soul-sister died, I traveled out with her into the night sky. I heard myself say, "I'll go with you a little way, Joanne" as I lay in bed miles away. I experienced an indescribable sense of expansion, spaciousness, peace and awe. The next morning I learned she had passed at just that time.

Maybe 20 years ago Joanne gave me the piece of black lace with shot through with shiny hot pink threads that veils the mirror. (The post Anger tells one small story of what I learned from her). The veil refers to the Jewish tradition of covering mirrors after a family member has passed. As you look at yourself through it, you may see a mystery.

Every transition is a little death and ascension to a new and unknown form, or into formlessness. This piece has layers of transparent and semi-transparent fabrics; it tiers back and back as you look through, into an undefined light essence rising, a distant evocation of that moment of letting go into transformation. Or, that's what I was going for. What's it like for you?

Here's a detail of what's under the veil--a small advantage of a virtual tour, since I know in person you would never pick up the veil to peek, it's very delicate.

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Next comes Mirror of Aging Beautifully. Look in--obviously, you are (aging beautifully--admit it!) Here the mirror reflects the What Is picture across the room. To the left, the little angel altar; you can barely see the composition gold leaf inset center focus in the shelf from this angle.

Maybe you recognize this piece from the flyer that's up around town about the show:

It's intended as a magic mirror, like the ones in fairy tales--"Mirror, mirror on the wall..."

Something happens when you donate your face to the composition, right up close. All the symmetry and non-symmetry and near-symmetry, the dynamic balance of vivid and soft colors, the flowing, expanding lines of crows feet, or wings, the rising and falling and circling around of the shapes, all that harmonizes with your beautiful, changing face in this irreplaceable moment....

Well, sorry, guess you had to have been there....

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Let's take a quick look at the opposite wall, shall we? This one, Inner Reach, is a particular favorite of mine.

It's a new departure for me to show more abstract pieces like this. It's done with fabric paints on canvas, and colored pencil, sewn onto a heavy dark blue denim backing.

I like how you can't really tell what's on top of what, but you wind up with an impression of depth or spaciousness, full and open at once. Maybe it evokes an enlarged section of an imaginary scan of your mind...or maybe not.

Someone at the opening said he saw an unhappy face with slashing claw marks across it. Hmmm. The eyes of the beholder, that's where art lives...

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This one at the left corner is called Stick With Love. The story behind the piece is in Dogged Dedication. The image was done with pastels and glitter on black fabric, the border, with fabric applique.

An theme of the show is experimentation with ways of combining fabric art and painting/drawing. I worked primarily in representational fabric collage for 25 years and then returned to painting where I started, in oil portraiture. So I'm interested in how to integrate the different media.

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There's three more to look at on this wall, and I seem to keep talking your ear off here. Is that enough for now? Personally, I can't look at a show for too long without getting a little jaded. Want to go upstairs and get a book out? We can come back in another post to look at the rest. As you head for the stairs, you'll see the corner on the left:

And looking down on the right as you climb the stairs, maybe you'll want to check out this Phoenix Mirror and Angel Altar later...

Oh, one other thing. Yes, most of them are for sale, but since it's a free library, the prices aren't mentioned on the wall, and there's not even a price list out.

But if you see one that might be for you, send me an email at judespacks@gmail.com and I'll be glad to tell you more about the piece, and the price.

Hey, thanks for looking and reading so far! Seeya later.

Cat Love

Wilda drawing '08

As I've said before (see post Wilda) "my" cat is my guru. She teaches everything I need to know, and less, which is very helpful. I need to know less. If I didn't stuff my head with human falderall, I could maybe meditate like she does, for a second.

Maine Coon Cat (detail) fabrics

A friend (who happens to be wildly ga-ga about his cat--you can see pictures of the happy couple here) complimented the occasionally serious content of this blog saying, "It's not just pretty pictures of cats and sunsets." Being a stinkwanink contrarian, I resolved to include more cats forthwith. Sunsets can wait.

Kitty, fabrics

Here's what I don't really get: what's so laughable about being seriously in love, as an equal or equal-wannabe, with a cat? It seems sillier, to me, to believe that just being human makes an entity somehow superior to a feline, or to anyone else, like a mollusk, or a turnip, for that matter. Not that we can't have our preferences, and to each her own and all.

Black Cat fabrics

I know a very rapid woman who loves a tortoise. She hates cats. (Her husband is reported to have commented, "She doesn't like anything warm-blooded"). To each her own, as I said. Love or hate 'em, cats mind their own business.

Being Aware, fabrics 30x30" (available)

When I say equal-wannabe, I am not implying inferiority on the part of the human, either. More that the dumb human might long to know herself as equal, equally belonging within the whole presence and wonder of Creation that can only reveal itself when her compulsive comparing and competing quiets. Forgive me if I'm getting too cerebral, too spiritual-smiritual here.

Cat Angel, fabrics

There's nothing like a cat for bring me back to earth when I get abstract. It just takes one of those glances of absolutely detached observation to make a person realize they're bizarrely off noodling in the brain, oblivious to the present where cats and gurus live.

Queen Cat, fabrics

After all, not that much is asked of us. Open the door. Close the door. Open the door. Open the can. Clean the litter box. Follow the simple directions. Is that so hard?

Cat Love, fabrics

Someone told me the suggested treatment for the nasty flu that's been going around lately is to follow a cat all day and do whatever they do. Sleep. Groom. Sleep. Eat a little. Sleep. Wake up. Stretch. The guru does yoga, so you do it too.

Grey Cat fabrics

Invisible Creative Blocks

Do you have an invisible creative block??

Some creative blocks are obvious. That dead smell coming from the drawer with the unfinished novel in it, the cobwebs across the studio door--these might be clues. 

But maybe you're not stalled or tortured, not scratching your head raw hoping a light bulb will sprout out of it. You've tamed the worst of your procrasto-gizmos, and things are coming along quite well, thanks, whether you're creating in the arts, at a job, or in daily life.

Some blockages to creativity have subtler symptoms. Here's a random sample of hidden jam-ups that may mute your joy, ruffle your peace and stunt your leaps as you create.

Groove Turns Into Rut

You're grateful for your success. But you've been doing the same thing the same way for so long that you can do it in your sleep, and you do (snooze). People clamor for more of what you're known for, what you do so well. You wouldn't want to risk a flop by trying something new. You're not sure you could get along on short rations of approval or money now that you've gotten used to having them.

Bound for Glory

If your internal talk-radio shouts fiasco predictions while you're trying to create, it's no surprise when you lose momentum. But if that inner DJ spins out lavish praise in advance, woohoo! you're flying and feeling no pain. While you're imagining your outfit and planning your humble acceptance speech for the big award, you don't have a whole lot of patient attention left for your masterpiece-to-be in its current gawky faze. You're so busy being a genius that the mundane spadework of creating doesn't actually engage you much.

Ball and Chain You have the discipline and determination to see your project through. In the satisfaction of steadily accomplishing what you set out to do, you hardly notice that you haven't surprised yourself in a long time. While you were keeping control of yourself and the process, the thrill and the fun sidled out the back door without saying goodbye--they didn't want to interrupt your serious work.

Reverse-Perfectionism Those poor saps who niggle at every irrelevant detail have really got a block (yes, they do). You, on the other hand, are zipping along, making good time towards your destination of being done with this project and on to the next thing. If you cut some corners, well, you were built for speed. You're the kind who sees the forest and doesn't bother with the trees. But did you really see the forest (much less take a soulful walk in it)? In your rush to the finish did you deny yourself the beautiful depth of view that was down a side road, off the exit you blurred right on by?

If you find yourself bound up in these or other limiting patterns you recognize, congratulations! Finding where you are is the first, crucial requirement to moving on. Even Houdini couldn't get out of a box he didn't know he was in.

All creative blocks originate as fearful thoughts--fear of failure, success, or embarrassment, fear of people's opinions, fear of change, etc. And no matter what their content, thought patterns can change.

The good news about blocks, hidden or obvious, mild or miserable, is that they happen in your head. Recent research shows that your brain is much more flexible than previously known. It has a huge capacity to free itself from its own old patterns and structures as needed, and to create new ones.

The topic of neuroplasticity is on my mind lately (pun intended). Read more about the liberating implications and how you might apply them to your own limiting patterns in this post: Fun With Your Plastic Brain. 

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How does this apply to you? How might you get more oriented towards your own unblocked clarity, inspiration, resilience and ease in the midst of the nitty-gritty of your particular challenges? Maybe a conversation or so with me would help: www.truthdarecoaching.com

Show Up

What Is, fabrics, fabric paint, pastel, acrylics 36"x56" '08

I've had an intense month of finishing work for a solo show in the gallery at The Belfast Free Library. Now it's up, for the month of August! The opening happened and most of the left-over snacks have even been eaten. In my little apartment, the walls are blessedly clear, and almost all the pins have been swept up off the floor.

First to try the snacks

I ride my bike down to the Library most mornings to check on the flowers in the pieces with mirrors and tiny offering vases, and to see if anyone's left me a note in the book. If you're in Maine and can find time to stop in, please do.

The piece What Is at the top of the post is the biggest and sunniest in the show--it gets to be a focal point in the room. Read about its beginnings here. This is the photo that inspired it:

More to come....

Procrasto Gizmo

What Does It Mean? canvas collage, fabric paint and thread, 05

Thanks to Websafe's comment on What Does Stinkwanink Mean? for the vocab enhancement of "neologism" ....

Anyway, a semi-neo one of those has emerged in my personal lexicon lately:

procrasto-gizmo (n): A network of beliefs, some of which may be convincing, that serve to keep something from happening, without the host even noticing.

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Most Recent Example:

I was really sure that I must learn how to use my web design software before I could work on the website content. I'm very visual, don't you know, and if I can't see how it's going to look and be able to mess around with that, it's hard for me to even think.

So I have tried, for two years now, to teach myself Dreamweaver from library books, and I still can't figure out how to center a table on the screen. I have unsuccessfully sought a tutor (probably any 8 year old would do) to answer the million and three idiotic questions that arise the instant I try some new technofuss like this. (The definition of technofuss is self-evident, isn't it?)

I had a membership in an on-line forum (Molly Gordon's Shaboom County) that might help me tremendously with the website content, and I hadn't used it once, though the subscription time was already half over. Hmmmmm.

Once I got started, I realized it had all just been a procrasto-gizmo, and a good one. I had been just a wee bit intimidated and confused about the content (oh, that). There's more than plenty to do without the layout yet, and now it's underway, with the support, feedback, wisdom and humor of the wonderful Shaboomers; Dreamweaver can wait.

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Please add your own examples in the comments, and tell us what other new words you've been saying lately, too.

Art First

It's happened again. The sneaky habit that puts off creative work has latched on like a leech. Days fill up with looking for bacon to bring home, and other necessities and frivolities. And in the back of the busy buzzing head drips the sad old song: when will I ever get in the studio, visit that Zone of creative flow?

So I'm taking my own good advice. (Someone has to do it!) I assigned myself 10 for 10 again--ten days of taking at least ten minutes daily for creative right-brain-led play in any medium, without focus on outcome. (For more about that read this post).

That was three days ago. Already I feel SO MUCH BETTER. I am once again amazed at how much can happen in ten minutes, how it leavens the day, how it pops the bubble of believing in Not Enough. And I know a longer session of studio work will come around at the right time, when that wave is ready to lift and carry me. I'm in no hurry--what a relief.

People Who Have to Do The Dishes
Before They Can Get to Work

Unconditional

.

Double Portrait of Buddy, oil painting 8x18" '02

See the world as yourself
Have faith in the way things are
Love the world as yourself
Then you can care for all things.

--Tao de Ching , Stephen Mitchell, trans.

Fred, fabrics, 30x33 '91

Fred was three legged golden with a big heart. His person talked about him as a true mirror of God (dog spelled backwards); she found it inspiring that Fred had no idea that there was anything lacking in having 3 instead of 4 legs. It was obvious that his essence was love, he had faith in the way things are and could care for all things.We kind of expect a dog to be a mirror--knowing the cliché of people looking like their dogs--but sometimes we might forget the compliment to the human implied in that.

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Sam, the boatyard dog, was part of the same family later on. The painting was commissioned as a surprise gift, and the only photo that could be spirited away without notice was this wonderful black and white one (below) that I worked from; (Sam had died and we'd never met). A friend snuck in and stole a color snapshot off the fridge, replacing it with a color xerox, so I could study it for color hints.

Sammy, oil painting, 28x35(?) '03

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A client who loves dogs has never felt able to live with one. She said she just couldn't handle taking in that much unconditional love, it made her feel unworthy and also over-responsible somehow. And she thought she could never recover from the loss of a dog, that her heart, once opened, could simply shatter. There were other conflicts she projected on dogs, too, like seeing powerful people as "top dogs" and herself submissively slinking off with tail between legs.

She took my suggestion to watch some Dog Whisperer videos. (I see Cesar Millan as a profound spiritual teacher, almost as much so as the dogs he works with.) She was entertained by the shows, and she found some good applications of Cesar's much-repeated advice to remain calm and assertive--with herself and other people, if not with a canine. But a breakthrough came much later, by surprise.

Ayla (detail) fabrics '91?

On a trip to Mexico, at a sacred site, she was approached by a thin mother dog, with hanging teats and ribs showing.

"I was instantly afraid; if I opened to loving her there would be a whole rescue project, shots and red tape and trying to bring her back to the States," she said.

"But I couldn't close my heart. So I shared my crackers with her. Maybe I should have been scared that being a wild dog she'd bite my hand off. But at the time I didn't think of that.

She took each cracker with great delicacy. She was so present receiving them, as if she were taking communion. She enjoyed every sacred crumb. And then she gave me one grateful look in the eyes and just...left!

Later I saw her working some other tourists for their crackers. And I got it. There was no guilt trip, no rescue mission, no obligation. She knows what to do. She's held. She's fine! So I got to know what unconditional means, I got to meet it in myself."

Jingles, fabrics '90?

Later, she was working on her food issues, berating herself for eating a whole bowl of chocolate pudding.

"What would your Mexican-mother-dog-guru tell you about that?" I asked.

"She'd show me to enjoy every lick. She'd tell me that how ever much I'd had was the exact right amount. And you know, I did enjoy every morsel of that pudding. I curled up on the couch with the bowl and ate it slowly and just savoured it. It's not true that I shouldn't have!"

Holly, fabrics, '88?

Since then, Mexican-mother-dog-guru has been shortened to the obvious holy name of Dog-Ma. Dear DogMa, Bless our food. Teach us gratitude. Mirror the unconditional in our hearts. Show us Enough, here and now.

Why Do You Ask?
for Donald Hall

I can't make
any story
about my life

tonight. The house
is like an overturned
wastebasket;

the radio
is predicting
more snow.

I ask my dog
to tell me
a story, and she

never hesitates.
"Once upon
a time," she says,

"A woman lived
with a simply
wonderful dog..." and

she stops talking.
"Is that all?"
I ask her.

"Yes," she says
"Why do you ask?
Isn't it enough?"

--Kate Barnes

If you like your unconditional love in feline guise, check out Cat Love and Wilda, where I admit I gush.

And if you want more dog-love, read about Lady, the Canine Creative Life Coach

LadyStick With Love fabrics, pastel, paint 14x17" '05 (available)