In this work I’m creating houses or house shapes and using them to explore my own definitions of “home”.  There are many layers to our sense of home; our planet, our country, our town, our house, our bodies and our minds.  How we picture “home” may be a blend of all of those layers.  Where we “feel at home” influences how we perceive the world around us and how we interact with it.

I was told by a teacher once, that the most important job a teacher has, is to motivate.  And I take that to heart.  The best thing for me, as an instructor, is to see participants get excited and feel motivated because they understand something new, or can do something they didn’t know they could.

An interesting phenomena in my drawing class, is how many people have bought the book, “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain”, by Betty Edwards, but have never made it through the first few chapters; or they’ve read the book but have never done any of the exercises.  Class introductions sound like a session of A.A. for those who didn’t finish the book:  ”Hi, my name is John; I too bought the book, but I only read the first chapter”.  People feel a sense of relief that they are not alone.

And I totally understand!  Why is it that the most mundane house tasks will get done before any practice at art?  Generally, even when we have the desire and the time to create something, we still take out the garbage before picking up a pencil.

So why are we avoiding the things that may make us grow and be happy?  I blame the left-side of our brains.  If you’ve read the beginning chapters of Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards (I know most everyone has read the first chapter anyway), you will discover that our brain is divided into two hemispheres (left and right) and are each responsible for their own way of knowing.  The left side, for example, understands things in a linear, rational and verbal way while the right side is holistic, non-rational and non-verbal.  Think of the difference between rationally working out a problem vs. dreaming about it.

Particularly in our western culture, the left, language oriented side of our brains is dominant.  When you sit down to do a task, even if it is a more suitable task for your right side, like drawing, the left side will try to take over. Since drawing is likely something it doesn’t want to do, it will step in with words such as; “why am I doing this?”, “I should probably do something that makes more sense” or “my dog could have drawn this better”.   If we listen to this incessant brain chatter (and our left sides can really talk), we will suddenly feel really tired and lose motivation.  The Betty Edwards book will go on the shelf.

The good news is, you can outsmart the left side of your brain, which is what we do in drawing exercises from the Edward’s book.  What we learn is that if you do not to let the left side of your brain (also known as the “inner critic”) be the boss, then the right half has a chance to kick in.  When that happens, what you’re doing becomes infinitely more enjoyable.  Time flies as you’re no longer worried if you’re doing something right or wrong – you’re just doing it.  The right side lives in the present moment.   It is most likely that when you are really enjoying an activity; gardening for example, you are using the right side of your brain.

So, back to drawing. If we draw from the right side of our brains, chances are we’ll get addicted.  Then people will say “when are you going to mow your lawn?” and you will say, “I don’t have time, I’m too busy drawing”. Strangely, once we really get into it,  then we don’t need any new books or art supplies anymore….the stubbiest pencil will do.

The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have creatied a society that honours the servant and has forgotten the gift.    Albert Einstein

I love doing these small paintings of faces.  I don’t make them into a likeness of anyone in particular.  They are a means to be creative, play with colour and explore ideas.  I let the picture go where it wants to.  I keep them small so usually they only take a few hours.  I don’t think they are all “self-portraits”; I think a better title for them would be “creative portraits”.

I created this painting for this year’s Vancouver Island Musicfest in Courtenay.   “Raven Act” is mythical scene where a raven dances on stage while in the background the Tsolum river transforms into a rainbow coloured crowd of people.  I’ve drawn my inspiration from several summers of enjoying Musicfest and also from painting on location there last year (see painting below).   I see Musicfest as one way for people to be reminded of their common humanity, which is expressed through the music and guarded over by nature.

“Raven Act” is acrylic on canvas, 30″ x 36″.  The price is $1550 and 100% of the proceeds are going to the CV Community Arts Council (which in the face of drastic cuts to the arts desparately needs support).  It will be on display at Musicfest (July 9-11) in the merchandise tent, along with prints and cards.

Recently saw exhibition at the Vancouver Art Gallery:  The Modern Woman:  Drawings by Degas, Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec and other Masterpieces from Musee d’Orsay, Paris. I love seeing drawings and I wish all my students would go see this exhibition.  First, you notice how important drawing was to these artists.  You get the understanding that they didn’t just leap into painting without doing the groundwork of many drawings first in an effort to understand their subject matter.  As well, you see that they were not perfect.  They made mistakes (students are you listening?).  Drawing and learning are just all part of the wonderful and enjoyable process of creating art – whether you end up with a masterpiece or not is irrelevant.

A couple weekends ago I participated in a weekend mural workshop with Mike Alewitz.  Alewitz is a trained sign and commercial painter with a keen interest in social issues.  He teaches maybe the only mural painting class in a university in Connecticut.  I learned quite a lot in a short time.  In my own university experience, I didn’t learn many practical things about art; such as what different paint brushes are for or how to use a colour scheme…most of what I learned was art theory….the “why” of art.

Anyway, Alewitz mentioned how he gets frustrated watching fine art painters wasting so much time in trial and error , figuring things out as they go along (remember, as a sign painter, time is money!).  I think that’s fine because painting is also a process.  However, I did see in a book on Chagall, a couple times where there was a small drawing done in the exact colour and design as a larger work.  And this is Chagall, a highly creative painter.  To me it looks like he pre-planned his painting…saving time otherwise spent in trial and error when he started in larger format.

Some practical knowledge is so obvious to someone trained in the trade of sign painting, but a fine art painter may have to figure out these things for themselves.  I am going to experiment with getting my drawings more figured out before moving to larger canvas to see what happens.  If I don’t like it, I can always paint over!

Exploring the Creative Power of Colour
Location: Denman Island Arts Centre
Dates: Saturday & Sunday; July 3 & 4th
Times: 9:30 – 3:30
Cost: $135 + $20 materials fee

Unlock the mysteries of colour in this informative and creative workshop. During the weekend you will discover the basics about colour while gaining practice at mixing the colours you desire. Also, you will explore the emotional impacts of colour, look at examples of artists who have used it as a powerful means of expression and find out how to successfully use colour to create dynamic works of your own. At the end you will have completed four of your own individual colour compositions. This weekend, you will primarily be using acrylics on paper, but the information will transfer well to other media. No experience is required, all experience is welcomed.

This past Saturday I lead a creativity workshop inspired by the Courtenay River Estuary. During the three hour session, we received an introduction to the natural and historical value of the estuary by a guest from Project Watershed. Then, in a nearby location we proceeded to work on a twenty minute collage (inspired by a quote about the estuary), drawings in india ink and finally a small painting in acrylics. Each exercise lead into the next. At the end, I received a few comments from participants, such as; “I could do this all day”. As usual, the time flew by.

I was biking along the river with my 4 year old the other day – taking the dog for a good run. It was one of those days where you feel like a walking accident waiting to happen; everything you touch either breaks, falls or doesn’t work. My accompanying state of mind was scattered and irritable. I was ready to get rid of the dog and also the fridge. I hoped it was safe to be on a tandem bike with my child. The bike ride actually was attempt to turn the day around. I packed a picnic and our little sketchbooks.

I lead us to a secluded spot by the river and we sat on a dry blanket and ate our muffins. My son seemed ready to participate in sketching, which was great (and pretty cute), and it gave me a chance to draw too. We drew for about 10 minutes (attention span of my 4 year old). I got instantly involved in drawing this fallen, dragon-like log in the river. In that short time span, the focus on an external point redirected my thoughts and calmed my mind. I am aware of drawing’s affect on me, but was still amazed at how much happier I felt after – like everything shifted back into perspective. My son too seemed extra happy.

It was a reminder also that drawing (for any amount of time) awards us a chance to engage the right hemisphere of the brain, the creative side, which is like tapping into a river of all good things.

This past June I participated in a mini-art retreat (led by David Alexander) in Powell River. During the weekend we spent much of our time painting or drawing on a pebbly beach bordering a stunning lake guarded by distant pointy snowcapped peaks. Upon our first arrival to the lake (Powell Lake) what quickly caught my eye was a tall white streak standing on the grey shoreline. I quickly walked over to it, staking my artistic territory for the morning. As I drew nearer I was able to label this strange feature as a giant white foxglove, thriving on what looked like nothing but rocks, nowhere near any other significant plant-life. When I sat down, it towered above me, its white bells illuminated by the morning light, a stark contrast to the dark blue sky.

I thought, “How can I capture the beauty of this flower made more beautiful by its surroundings? Should I even try? Why mess with something so perfect?” As I drew and painted (not liking anything I did), I started to feel inferior to the flower. I began to think more; “Maybe I’m just using this flower to make myself look good – as if it was I who thought of creating such a beautiful combination of flower and landscape.” I was just copying the brilliant random choices nature already made. Big deal.

Nature is neverending in its variety and solutions: nature doesn’t copy us because nature is creative! In return, we are not necessarily being creative if we simply copy nature. However, imitating nature opens our minds to what nature and creativity are about. I drew, painted and photographed the foxglove thinking I could make some interesting pictures of it, but in the end don’t know if I did, or will. Instead, I’m sure some aspect of the flower: the reaching to the sky like a beanstalk, the white, luminescent bell shapes, the succession of open to unopened; will be digested and reformed into some element in a future painting. In the end, the lesson I understood from the white bells growing out of the rocks, is that perhaps creativity is about making something stunning, beautiful or simply unique out of seemingly nothing.