Lately I’ve been experimenting with mixing my journal and sketchbook together into more of a visual journal or “observation book” (what I’m calling it for now).  I like to use a 5″ x 8″ spiral bound sketchbook and any black roller pen…pencil crayons are nice too.    I may include several aspects of my life in this book (besides just the usual “self analyzing”); such as, the weather, the title of the book I’m reading, a recent dream, something my son said etc.. I may just sketch something that’s in front of me, or capture a sudden idea for a painting or art class. Another thing I’ve heard of others doing, is keeping it positive and writing things that you are thankful for.  I find this “observation book”  much more interesting to look back on than my usual written journal.

When I was in Atlin in 1998, taking a course called “Idea and the Creative Process”, the teacher was forever telling us the importance of “responding”, his Austrian accent emphasizing the “ing”.  This word often just jumps into my head for no reason: “responding”.  Since then I’ve noticed that to respond to life’s opportunities and lessons you need some increased level of awareness, which also brings confidence.  The more aware you are, the more you are able to respond; and the more you respond, the more aware you become.

So back to the sketchbook/journal – I think more importantly than a planner (that I noticed kids get given in school starting grade 1), is one book where you can write and draw everything you notice or are learning.  This would foster the understanding that things are interconnected and encourage one to be more in the moment.  I’m thinking this may be a good thing to try in my kids art classes: they are all getting “observation books” this year.

I recently read in the Globe and Mail, in an article about finding your dream job, that to be successful it was important to “make decisions on your environment, not your plan”.  To me this  means not blindly adhering to a pre-conceptualized idea, but with awareness, responding to the circumstances that presently surround you…perhaps an “observation book” in tow.

One popular component of one of Xanadu’s webinars was Mark McGuiness’ talk based on his book:  Time Management for Creative People.  Words like marketing, time management and goals, usually make artists involuntarily cringe.  However, time still manages to get away on most of us, which is why it is such a sought after topic.

The biggest common sense idea underlined for me during this talk was:  we all have times when we are most creative or productive – when things “flow” more easily.  For many of us (including myself) it’s in the morning, for others it is late at night.  I have always called this “prime time” because I try to make sure I’m not folding laundry or doing another mindless task during my most productive times of the day.  (For me prime time may also be when the weather’s really nice or there’s fresh snow outside).

In my mind, one hour of primetime is worth three hours of regular time, or whole day of tired time.  The key is to cordon off that prime time for only creative work.  That means, turn off the phone, get the computer away from you etc…Think of a realistic amount of time you can reserve each week.  Even two hours of primetime every other day is better than nothing.  I always think of how the thickest books get read a few pages at a time.

This concept really helps with my focus.  Having a more limited time for creative work, actually works for me because I think, “I only have this time frame, so I better make the most of it”.  I end up with way less distracting thoughts like, “I don’t know where to start” or “maybe I should go do something else for awhile”.   I just simply do the work and then move on.  I’ve even set the stove timer, so I’m not having to look at my watch to see if it’s time to pick up my son yet, or whatever else.

The thing that’s mostly changed for me is that I paint most mornings for 2 hours now.  Before I would save painting, like a dessert to enjoy,  when I got all my emails and dishes done.  But, I realize that when I die, I’m not going to rest in peace knowing that throughout my life, I had always emptied my inbox.  And I enjoy the rest of my day better knowing that I’ve already spent time doing what’s important and what energizes me.

I wanted to share this, not only with other artists, but also with students who are learning to draw and paint.  You will be more successful with practicing if you can fit it into some cordoned off “primetime”.  Happy creating!

I found the workshop inspiring for myself as well.  It reminded me of the many ways I find to connect to nature which keep my thoughts and inspiration flowing.  I have since been sketching much more (taking less photos though) and my small sketchbook is turning into more of a “visual journal”, which includes writing.  I keep it handy and put something in it (nature sketch, memory drawing, painting idea, detail of a dream etc..) almost daily.  More on “visual journals” in the future!

Image:  Creating from Nature, Adult Art Camp, Summer 2011

We usually started off with a smaller “throwaway” painting, where we just painted wherever the brush lead us for 10 minutes….usually I just ended up so many layers of paint it looked like perfect rendition of a mud puddle.  After that exercise we would listen to a story or pick a set of words and start painting our big piece from that.

I remember at one point thinking that I had finished a painting before the alotted time was up.  Lisa gently encouraged me to keep painting anyway.  She was right, I ended up learning more by continuing past that point.

Now when I work I hear Lisa’s words echo in my mind…”remember there isn’t a finish, just interesting stopping points”…and also “your hands know what to do”.  Thanks Lisa for encouraging me to play and trust my own intuition and imagination more!

We visited the Georges Pompidou Centre, Musee D’Orsay, Grand Palais and also the seemingly less popular Museum of Modern Art in the Palais de Tokyo where we went to see Matisse’s well-loved painting ,”The Dance”.

The Museum of Modern Art was full of a surprisingly comprehensive collection of modern paintings that had overflowed from the Musee D’Orsay to the other side of the Seine.  I was excited when a guard pointed us to the various exhibits we could see “en librement” including the “Salle Matisse” – a whole room dedicated to the artists’ painting!  However, the painting we saw on the wall was quite a different “Dance” than the one I was imagining, which is in another modern art museum in St.Petersburg, Russia.

The “Unfinished Dance” we saw was composed of black, pink and dark blue abstract figures leaping through gray arches.  I was as much impressed by the cavernous and vacant room where three lesser known Matisse compositions, each the length of one or two subway cars, stay specially housed for an indefinite amount of time.  This seemed to contrast so greatly with the fact that there is limited space for people to stay or even live in Paris.  For a small-town Canadian, this religious dedication to modern art seemed at once both heartening and also uncomfortably grandiose.

Size was notable again when being confronted by Robert Delaunay’s, Rhythm #1 (below) –  the visual equivalent of a booming brass band.  This mural was commissioned to decorate the sculpture hall of the Salon de Tuileries in 1939 and was eventually given to the city of Paris. Information about this style states that it is a type of cubism called “Orphism” which gives the illusion of movement found in the unending new inventions of the modern world.  I find that the spinning discs of various thickness’ look like the inside of a giant watch.  It also really reminded me of minimalist and op art of the 1960′s by artists such as Elsworth Kelly and Frank Stella.  All these artists abandoned “easel painting” in favour of work that enters the space of everyday life – like architecture.

As a side note:  A friend recently asked me, “so what is the Eiffel Tower for anyway?” and I had to answer, “nothing really”. The Eiffel Tower (named after Gustave Eiffel who designed it) was picked as the winning design for an entrance arch to the 1889 World Fair. The “iron lady”, the tallest structure in the world until the Chrysler Building was built in New York, was only meant to be temporary. At the time no one could have foreseen that millions of people would be ascending this structure every year. The tower does actually have a utilitarian purpose (although it wasn’t built for this reason) which is as a radio and television transmitter. However, it’s real function is to simply stand and look pretty as a world recognized symbol of France.

There’s a sense of freedom in being exposed to all this grandiosity.  It feels like hearing a loud shout in praise of the pure ingenuity of the human spirit.  To be timely, I will compare it to the Canucks.  To me, hockey in itself, has no purpose – no one would die (?) if there was no hockey; yet people are crazy over it.  However, I can see how it inspires human values of connectedness with others, is a display of excellence and grit and there’s even the art of how each game evolves differently dependant on the intersection of a number of random factors (non-random says my husband).  These are all things worth living for.  They even defy mortality; living on long past the individuals conceived (or played) them.  Just as people are taking pride in the fact that they are Canucks fans, so did seeing the Paris sights make me take pride in – and remind me about the purpose of – being an artist.

“These paintings began with exploring house shapes.  Houses and animals often appear in my dreams.  I read somewhere that in your dreams, a house is a symbol for the body.  Windows are like eyes that look out to the world outside.  The door may be where experiences come in or go and the rooms are like different states of mind.

Some of the houses I have painted sit in imaginary underwater scenes partially inspired by a visit to Undersea Gardens in Victoria.  I am playing with the idea of animals or the natural world inhabiting or surrounding these houses or buildings – in the same way that nature unconsciously inhabits our psyches.”

I mention Undersea Gardens because when I was there,  I was really struck by the seeming intelligence I saw in the faces of the wolf eel and the octopus in particular.  It was like a window into a world that we really don’t know much about.  I thought how wrong it was for us humans to assume we are the centre of the universe.

Two of these paintings will be on Silent Auction as a fundraiser to help protect our local estuary.  To bid on them, go here and click on “art for the estuary”.  These paintings will be on display at the Zocalo Cafe (corner of 5th and Cliffe in Courtenay) for the month of March.

In learning something new, or making a change, you have to be prepared to let go of what you already know.   You could also call it having an open mind or making a leap of faith.

This also means paying attention to, but not getting involved in negative thoughts (why am I doing this?  I’m not good enough…etc..).   If you made a commitment ahead of time and have had a desire to learn this skill at some point, this is enough reason to continue.

Having a “leap of faith” is allowing yourself to be vulnerable for a bit before momentum changes in the direction you are wanting to go (eg. to be able to draw what you see).  We have such a strong natural inclination to attach ourselves to a position (to avoid this vulnerability) so be aware of this.  You have to at some point take your feet off familiar ground to see what will happen.  And it’s not like you’re alone when you make this jump.  You have a host of internal instincts ready to guide you in these moments.  The more you use and trust these instincts the stronger they become.

When you think you can’t learn to draw or paint or change in some way, that’s ok, just don’t let these thoughts stop you from trying.  It may be that in saying you “can” do a certain new thing, you are taking a leap.

Reason is our soul’s left hand, Faith her right.  ~John Donne

Outside my dreams, I’m not actually that frightened of bears. But I think it’s because they’re big, black, live often hidden in the dark forest (except in Cumberland) that causes them to come to life in dreams. However, I find once I am able to name my fears, or tell them to leave, they lose their power – the bear walks away.

We just went on a recent family trip to Tofino.  I usually bring my camera, but this time couldn’t find where I put it.  I quickly came to the realization that if I don’t have my camera with me, I am way more likely to sketch.  In the end, I found I may have created even better memories of this trip than taking photos.  Partly it’s because if I’m sketching, my son sits beside me and “stetches” too.

Image:  My son with “crown” toque at Long Beach