girl at large

The Likes We Need

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While preparing my paintings for the Shorewood Artists Guild show, I pulled everything out in front of me, all my curly papers gathered together for the first time. Little paintings, bigger paintings, big pieces that failed, sweet little unfinished pieces I had been disappointed with that now look so good, piles and piles of work. I’m so proud of the work I’ve done, the skills I’ve learned, the commitment I’ve kept to my late night art desk.

Painting, for me, is an exercise in hope. Hope that I’ll get it right next time, hope that the magical mistakes will indeed be magical, hope that a little more practice will firm up that new skill, hope that my people will LIKE my paintings. I’ll admit it, I paint for likes. I paint for myself, but also for the outer world, to say, hey, I’m here and I’m hoping you like me. All of us want that, in some way.

Validation.

Acknowledgement of our experience, our struggle, our pain, and our wins! Validation. It’s the gift and the curse. Powerfully uplifting when we receive it, devastating and corrosive when it’s missing. Why do we feel invisible without it?

I’m working on validating myself, thank you Therapy. I’ve chased validation for a long time, in my identity as a “real artist”, now it’s here and I feel great. Proud, energized, motivated and so supported. The art show night was a big win for me. 

And, as life likes to do, it reminded the very same week that some validation we may never receive, despite how hard we try. Letting go of that hope is hard and sad. For me, that feeling cannot be painted over, it will likely linger for a long time. But I can stop begging for that “like”. That hope has to go.

But I can be proud that I was just as committed, did the work, and tried to improve my skills. Sometimes the canvas just isn’t there.

Island Time

 

 

 

 

 

 

Madeline Island was so beautiful. My paintings, however, were not. It was a glorious week all to myself, surrounded by magnificent views of prairie, woodlands, lagoons, bluffs, and mighty Lake Superior. The instructor was also superior, ahem, Mr. Superior. And that’s all I’ll say about that.

So, the instruction wasn’t a good fit for me, but the classmates, food and painting locations were perfection. Though I didn’t produce any work to brag about, I did rekindle some dormant skills—

Painting from life

Value studies

Bullshit detecting

I’m beginning to really enjoy this Watercolor-Menapause-Yoga Pant-No BS phase of life.

Artist Statements

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bald Reality 

I’m a middle aged, menopausal midwestern mom with a chip on her shoulder about unrealized artistic potential. I have deep-seated insecurities about my ability to create “real” art and be a “real” artist. So, I use self deprecating humor to dodge any real discussion about my goals or vision. Also, I hate the word vision. I don’t have one, I just like to paint. Somewhere along the line I learned to feel better about my own abilities (and lack of education) by internally judging other amateur artists work with snobbery. I did this the most when I wasn’t actually doing any drawing or painting at the time myself. Ick. I own more than one fancy camera and I pretend to know how they work. 

 

What I Thought I Was Supposed To Achieve To Count As A Real Artist and Valuable Human Being

I received my BFA from bladedah blah expensive art school and my MFA from another urban and urbane school far away from where I grew up. Though steeped in family artistic roots, I left my midwestern home for more exciting and interesting locales around the world. I have shown in NYC, Chicago, LA, and throughout Europe where I honed my skills in oil painting, photography and print making. Currently repped by gallery such-and-such in LA and fabulously dressed by so and so for every gallery opening. (That last part is all I really want).

 

Where I Want To Be

I like to paint. I’m growing my skills, and really enjoying watercolor. I grew up surrounded by creative art makers, hobbyists and doers that influenced my interest and knowledge of all sorts of art and crafts. Currently, I make paintings of open, natural places that I visit, landscapes and places that bring me mental peace. I use my photos for reference and my memory for expression. I make paintings in between raising two kids, working and having life-long treatments for stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. No, I don’t want to paint about that. I paint to escape that. I don’t want to sell a lot or have shows, not really, except to make people happy. I love to give paintings to people who enjoy them.