In 2006, I visited the tiny town of San Blas, Mexico.
One of the first things I noticed was the number of pickup trucks driving around, 3 or 4 soldiers in the back, 2 in front – with submachine guns, dark glasses, camouflage uniforms and all.
Kinda freaked me out – I’m not accustomed to such a blatant military presence. I never did get used to seeing those trucks everywhere.
The beach there has such a strange configuration – the breakers are about 100 yards out from the beach, and the water between the breakers and the beach edge is about 3″ deep. You can pretty much walk almost all the way out to the breakers without getting even your knees wet!
I must have taken 40 bazillion photos of this strange phenomenon, but couldn’t get even one to correctly portray the effect. Ah well.
I’ve been playing with pastels a lot lately, and here’s one of the beach, looking over that shallow water at the edge, facing south towards Puerto Vallarta.
It’s dark – mainly because I used black paper – experimenting.
What do you think?
SAN BLAS #1
Pastels on paper, 9″ x 12″ original. Available.
I’m not an adherent of any recognizable religion – my folks never went to church, so I never got the classic religious conditioning many kids did in the 50s when I grew up.
But I did have a few pretty traumatizing events happen in my teens that made me keenly aware of my mortality. By the time I was 19, I cried myself to sleep every night, afraid I wouldn’t awaken the next day. I had no supporting faith to pillow my mind or heart.
Then I bumped into a book called The Robe, about the Roman soldier who was put in charge of holding Jesus’ robe when Jesus was put up on the cross. I found it very moving, and dived into Christianity to see if I liked it.
I did and I didn’t. The Old Testament – what a sordid story! Jesus’ teachings were sweet and pure, but what people did and still do in his name made/makes me sick.
Thus, I started looking elsewhere. I studied the Eastern faiths, and got even deeper into, studied, trained in and even got certified in some of the many and various common and esoteric psychic phenomena, channeling, healing, astrology, numerology and other ‘ologies, Old Masters, and metaphysics.
After a 50+ year search, I have come to the conclusion that there is no man-made organization that fits what I now feel about the whole thing.
I’ve simply come to think of ‘god’ as That.
It’s that unknowable, unthinkable, never-ending, infinitely enormous, raw, and richly alive expanse of Something/Nothing that I can jusssst barely perceive – that exists at the corner of the corner of my eye if I don’t look right at it…
If I get still, and allow myself to feel/hear EVERYthing, I can hear it – kind of…
If I get still, I can ‘see’ it – kind of…
Where ever It is, what ever It is, it fills me with joy – sometimes to the point of tears.
It quiets me when I’m afraid.
Lately, it has given me great comfort.
It tells me everything that is mine is already here for me, and all there is to do is match my vibrational frequencies to the highest ones possible, and all will be fine.
So far, it’s true. When I remember to make the high choice – not the choice from the needy or fearful place in my thoughts – it comes true – and even better than I’d have ever thought.
This covid adventure is a case in point – I had been completely freaked that I’d end up on the street for lack of sales.
Instead, I’ve received unemployment benefits that not only paid back bills I was petrified about, but my rent, AND has allowed me to restock my studio with supplies.
I feel so full of gratitude I can hardly bear it sometimes.
In some faiths, a fish is a symbol of That.
Fish really does know The Way.
SURELY, FISH KNOWS THE WAY
Gouaches on Sumi ink, 5″ x 7″ – prints available.
The Balance is the 2-ton piece I carved at the Oamaru International Limestone Sculpture Symposium I was invited to participate in when I was Artist-in-Residence in Gore, New Zealand.
I felt so fortunate to be a part of that symposium! Me, a little 55-year old funky sculptor from the US – whoddathunkit!
But choose me they did, and I got to spend 10 days carving with some of the most wonderful carvers from all over the world – even as far from NZ as Holland.
Sometimes when I look back on this piece, and the shared international camaraderie, i just want to weep.
Our planet’s boat is far from being in balance, and it looks like it’ll be a long time until – if ever- it gets there – especially with the US gov continually trying to knock down health requirements and protections for people, animals and places.
Our international standing, in the US, is degraded so far as to make it so our citizens are prohibited from entry into many countries.
Our healthcare system has collapsed, with a zillion sick and everyone on lockdown.
Statues are being torn down, violent protests, people fighting over whether or not to wear masks – what a mess.
I don’t think this sculpture will be torn down, though – unless, of course, some puritan sect gets its panties in a twist about (gasp! shocking!) nekked people.
To me, this piece means the grace that happens when you stand in unity of purpose, love, commitment to the higher purpose, co-operation, and, yes – balance.
Because without those things, how can we possibly survive?
THE BALANCE – original stone sculpture –
5′ x 4′ x 2′ Oamaru Limestone
A friend of mine posted on FB today, asking how old we were when we got our first traffic ticket. This little story popped into my mind right off:
I would have been 22. I was late learning how to drive – I had driving-phobia. So one day I took it upon myself to get over it, I decided to drive my BF’s car to the store. It was an old Pontiac sedan. This was in 1967, so it must have looked like something out of one of those old-timey movies. And of course – I had no drivers license.
On my way home, for some reason, Mr. cop pulled me over. I decided I’d treat him like an angel. When he came to my door, I thanked him for stopping me, and asked him if he could please give me advice as to correct whatever it was I was doing wrong.
I thought-sent clouds of love and light at him, swamping him with it, as if he really was an angel.
He got this weird look on his face, backed away, thanked me for my time, ran back to his car and drove off. Never got that ticket!
This is one of the 90-odd mandalas I painted way back in ’99 when I was homeless. I house-sat a lot, and spent most of my time painting these.
I doused for the design with my little bitty dousing rod, and then painted them in by hand. Each design radiates a different frequency or energy. You can see more of them here on my ART site.
After I got back to the States from New Zealand in 2002, I was filled with gratitude to be back in Hawaii again. I wanted to do a bunch of paintings celebrating the culture, and yet not be blatant, touristy-looking hawaiiana-ized.
This was the first of the series. Each one was underpainted in various colors, so when I painted over those colors, I’d get a glazed effect..
On this one, I liked the underpainting so much I kept it as is, without painting anything else on top of it.
I think one of the things I like best about it is the feeling of her physical strength and fluidity, playing against an emotional fragility – she’s unsure, yet the light streams in and fills her.
Emotions kind of like where we’re at right now. We are all so unsure – and yet, we still have deep hopes for a much better future.
Well, maybe not everyone feels that way, but I do.
Original was 24″ x 30″, oils on archival art board
Depression is a sneaky bastard. I have experienced it all my life, and because I didn’t know how to handle it, I was even suicidal for years … until 20 years ago when I found EFT, the Emotional Freedom Techniques (in case you’re wondering, find out about it here).
As I began to use EFT, I learned that you have to ask the feeling – in this case, depression – what the hell it wants.
It’s there for a purpose. You can’t just say ‘go away!’
Once you figure out what it wants, you need to decide whether or not you can give that thing to yourself.
SLEEP
Recently, with this virus thing, I felt depression creeping back in again. So I asked it, what do you want? It said sleep. So I gave it sleep. A lot of it – like, 3 naps a day.
One day I got fed up and decided to sleep all day. I did that for 3 days, until, on the fourth day, I couldn’t even think about it. I was done with extra sleep. The depression backed off.
MONEY
The next time, it wanted me to have more money. This was a bugaboo. How was I supposed to do that?
I made a list of every last thing I know how to do. EVERYthing. From sewing my own clothes, to writing and publishing books, to designing and publishing books for others, to painting, carving, drawing, illustrating, graphic design… you get the idea.
The list made me feel both proud that I could do everything on it … but overwhelmed, too. How was I supposed to choose what to do with my time?
A question popped into my mind: what if I died right this second, what would I regret not having done?
In the very same second that I asked, one word came to mind. Painting. I have kept saying for a long time that I wanted to know how to paint better – especially portraits – but I wasn’t taking action.
I started looking on Youtube for tutorials. I found the Forger’s Masterclass and then – gold-mine! the Portrait Artist of the Year series! So now I’m watching and painting right along with them.
I don’t expect people to buy the new works – they are practice, after all – but what surprised me was requests for greeting cards, pillows, tote bags, etc. As well as requests for graphic design and book creation.
ALLOCATING TIME
Then I had to decide where to put my time – I can’t be in painting ‘school’ mode ALL day, because then I couldn’t do the book and design work people are asking for!
So I decided I’d put a specific number of hours of painting in each day, and work during the other hours. That’s working great.
COMFORT
Next the voice of depression said it wanted space and comfort, because although I now live in a much nicer house than I had in Hawaii, I don’t have a place to carve or make pots. I have no yard, or garden.
To have the space to do my stone carvings – to make dust and noise and a mess – would be so awesome! And room to create a beautiful garden I could go out and sit in? Heaven.
So now I’m in the process of searching how to give myself those things. As long as that process is in place, the ‘depression’ stays away.
Depression is really the voice that says, ‘I don’t believe I can have something better than what’s happening now. I’m helpless. I’m powerless.’
You have to argue with that voice, because it’s the voice of defeat.
The longer you accept defeat, the more crushed you will feel, the more you even want to just give up and die.
We are not here to die. We are here to live an expansive life! To love, be loved, enjoy life, make art and music, and beautiful things, to give love and joy – and if we are consumed by defeat, those things are impossible to fulfill. No one wants that. No one.
Use depression as a tool,
not your own personal oppressor.
I read an article recently that brought back vivid memories of when I first came to Maui, in 1966.
My BF at the time and I were flat broke, and had no place to stay.
So we went down to the beach just to the north of LaHaina, and found a secluded patch of trees to lay out our tarp and sleeping bags.
After a bit, it was too hot, so we just fell asleep on top of them.
We both awoke around midnight screaming – someone was eating our feet – and arms – and knees – and OMG giant freaking sand crabs everywhere!
We pulled the tarp out from underneath us, shaking them off, and, flopping down atop the sleeping bags, put it over us FAST, tucking it in around every corner.
Before the sun was even up, even as exhausted as I was, I was on my way into LaHaina to see if I could get a job at a small gallery I’d seen there the day before. Thankfully, yes, I did get one – with an advance! – and we were able to move into a small room that night.
Those sand crabs were some kind of demon spawn, I’m tellin’ ya – they were relentless. Even though the experience was only part of one night, they invaded my dreams for months afterwards.
I’ll never forget the scritching sound of their little hairy legs and sharp pointy feet as they tried to get thru the tarp – it was horrific. They were a minimum of 7″ long – too bad I didn’t think of catching any to eat!
KO’OLINA – prints available Ko’olina is actually on Oahu, not Maui – I don’t have any images from Maui anymore.
When I was in Gore, New Zealand in 2000-2 as Artist-in-Residence, I painted around 50 paintings.
Because I had thought of myself as primarily a stone sculptor, I was surprised to see so many of them just flowing right out of my hands!
Someone asked me where I got inspiration for them all. There are many ways I get inspiration for my work – dreams, flashes of words on the radio or media, ideas I hear discussed, meditations – and some right from Source, or the Heart.
I painted this one because many times I’ll either be lying down or just sitting around looking like I’m not doing much, but internally a great fire is raging, aching to come out, and I sit with it, giving it time, until I know what it wants to say. Then get up and do it.
You may have seen that Freedom is a theme I often use. Mainly because I have struggled so much to be free of society’s rigid conditioning, entrenched family ideals and destructive personal beliefs.
I have found, though, that Freedom is within our reach at all times – all we need to do is push the veil aside and climb through the portal.
So there we are, sitting with our internal furnace, ready to leap free through the veil. Could it really be that easy?
LIFE – original oils on canvas, 18″ x 18″ – not available right now – prints, yes.
I’m not sure why everyone thinks they need to write about the current happenings (referring to the wave of black people being killed by cops and unmarked special ops troops).
Yes, it is horrifying. Yes, I detest it, just as you do.
But it’s not as if any of us are ‘experts’ or even come close to being reporters or even apologists.
What good is expressing, over and over, how shocked we are? We’ve had 3+ YEARS of wondering, every damn day, what could be worse than this (current thing) – and then next day seeing some travesty that is lower by one more level?
By flogging the upset, all we do is add to the upset.
All we can do is all we can do, and if not saying anything is where you are at, that’s fine with me. I’d rather not hear blather (like some are doing).
I’d rather hear honest this-is-what-we-are-doing, even if it is only thinking about what to do, if there is anything different to do.
If you feel upset and paralyzed, it’s good you say so.
If you want to be more inclusive, that’s great too.
I think we need to remember that, although black is in tragic focus right now, if we are preparing for the future, there are other colors than black to include.
Personally, joy and delight are It. Joy and delight transcend all colors and boundaries and beliefs. I think if we stick to aspiring to be and create those in our lives, no matter where we are or who we’re with, we’re fine. Why would we ‘have’ to do anything different!
And remember that only Good People worry about being good – ‘bad’ people don’t give a rat’s ass. If you are concerned you’re not doing enough, or saying enough, or thinking about things enough, you are Good People – by definition.
LEARNING TO LOVE MYSELF –
acrylics on canvas, 9″ x 12″ – prints available
Once more in the mood of Modigliani – this was a color study I did today –
In 20-20 hindsight, I think the composition could be a whole lot more exciting, but the purpose was to test out colors for a larger work, so at least that got done.
I liked how loose I could be and still be specific – I found out that I’m better at playing with color payers than I had thought I was.
My friend Irina Collister has beautiful red hair, and I was picturing her out in the sun in her big straw hat.
And because she works in a garden center, she is holding a dandylion –
IRINA’S GARDEN HAT – color study – acrylics on paper – 8.5″x11″ – Available
KAILUA BEACH CANAL – Painted in the style of André la Derain
It was highly educational to replicate this image by André Derain. I learned that, although he had some cool ideas about color and its use, he was a careless painter, thus getting muddy colors and sloppy sections.
I’m a smoother, and he was a dabber. It was really hard to give up smoothing for his dabs. And although I did at first, I ended up not liking his composition.
André Derain was a Fauvist, a rebel, who refused to paint things as they seemed – he applied color in places in what seem like willy-nilly fashion, but if you look carefully, it was more to separate sections off from each other. He painted shape and color, not light.
Above are the original image (left) and the one I tweaked to add the outrigger.
I love his colors but will probably never paint like this again. It gave me so much of a headache I didn’t complete the trees at the top!
KAILUA CANAL –
Original – acrylics on canvas – 20″ x 16″ – available
Self-portrait #2, done in the style of Amadeo Modigliani, one of my all-time favorite painter/sculptors.
Amadeo Modigliani (which is pronounced MOH-dee-lee-AHN-ee – the G is silent) had a very distinct style that has always appealed to me.
It was very simplified, and intensely stylized, yet he always somehow was able to get the personality of the sitter spot-on.
His nudes were absolutely outstanding. In a time when nude women were portrayed as plump, angelic and non-sexual, his were the most glorious, sensual – and yet not at all sexual – nudes.
Here is the painting I used as a jumping off point. You can see how much more yellow he used – I wanted mine to be suffused with rich reds. And of course, mine holds a paint brush, with paint on her fingers!
When I saw one of his paintings in a museum a long time ago, I was struck by how little paint he used. It was as if he was putting just a thin veneer of color over the dark surface.
I discovered later that it was because he was always broke, and thinned his paint as much as he could in order to make it last longer! That’s why you can see the dark undertones in the background of this painting.
ANGELA MODIGLIANI –
Original – acrylics on canvas, 20″ x 16″
Available
I’m not sure I really like this – it’s pretty harsh looking – but here’s my first attempt at a self-portrait in the style of Vincent van Gogh.
I got the idea watching a series of wonderful videos called the Forger’s Masterclasses – where an ex-forger was showing 3 students in each video how to paint in the style of a well-known artist. I decided I’d play, and paint in the styles, too, right alongside them.
The more I look at this one I did, the more things I want to correct, but I guess I have to call it finished at some point. If you decide to critique please be kind – I’m just learning how to paint portraits!
UPDATE: For those on my facebook group who commented that Vincent’s paintings were mostly intensely color-saturated: I used muted colors purposely because I didn’t want color to distract from style.
This was practice. I used one of his more muted self-portraits as a model (see below).
I was trying to find out what it takes to make all those brush strokes he made. Turns out it’s really, really hard. Each one he makes is deliberate, not just a fun little swirl or stroke.
I discovered I am a slap-dash painter, and make more un-deliberate strokes than I need, which turns colors into mud and strokes into confusion. This was a really great exercise.
Painting in Vincent’s style is a real bear – it looks easy – just do curlies, right? So wrong. Try it before you open your gob and say mean things!!!
ANGELA VAN GOGH – original – acrylics on canvas – 20″ x 16
“Hank,” a friend and fellow stone carver who is also a talented tattoo artist, came by yesterday to drop off some tools I needed. When he held them out to me, I found myself gasping in surprise.
See, Hank spent many years recovering from his gruesome experiences in the Viet Nam war. His body is covered with scars from the beatings he suffered in a brutal POW camp, and the shrapnel from the attack from when he was captured. One of those scars is a long, thin, dark one that runs from his elbow halfway down his left forearm.
Soon after he came home, in a fit of deep depression, he tattooed thin, red droplets of blood running down his arm from that scar. He told me it was to remember his fallen friends, and the misery they went through together.
I couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would want to focus on the misery, but never said anything – none of my business, and not my experience, so how could I possibly understand?
THE SHOCK
So when I reached out to take the chisels he held out, I noticed that the droplets of blood had been tattooed over – they were now little hearts. Eleven of them. At the ends of the thin, red lines.
Have you ever been so utterly moved by anything that your eyes spurt projectile tears? I’ve only had it happen twice in my life before, but this! This was the max. Out they came, as I struggled to catch my breath.
He just smiled, and said softly, “Yeah.”
I couldn’t even speak.
He said, “I was collapsed on the couch last week, feeling pretty bad about not being able to work because of all this lockdown mess. It reminded me so much of being a sick, shot-up, beat-up prisoner, unable to help myself or feel like there was any hope.
“My daughter – you know her, Angela, she’s like a bad-mood magnet, always trying to brighten people up – I can’t hide anything from her. She came and plopped herself down on my lap, and asked me, “What’s the matter Daddy? Why are you crying?”
“I was mortified she’d caught me weeping. But I knew she wouldn’t let go until I came clean, so I told her that I was worried about everything, and it made all the bad feelings I had about the war come back, because I felt so angry and tired and helpless.
“She just looked at me with those wise 6-year-old eyes of hers, and said, “But daddy, didn’t you tell Mommy last night you felt so lucky to be with 2 women you adored and living in a place that was so peaceful and quiet?” She giggled when she said ‘women.’
“I had to take a huge breath in, because she was right. I was thinking about all the things that could go wrong, while I was completely ignoring what I held in my heart and experienced every single day in that place of peace and joy we had created together.
I gave her a huge hug and said, “Thank you honey, you just saved me from weeks of dark worry and depression.”
Because she did. With that innocent question, she yanked me right back from the fear and the darkness and the danger and helplessness of ‘back then’ to my real present – my present, my gift, my fortune – this present reality.
“So I redid my tattoo to remind myself how precious my real life – my here-and-now-life – is, and to stop myself if I feel like my thoughts are drifting back to my hideous, painful past.”
I THOUGHT, ‘HOW CAN I DO THAT, TOO?’
After he left, I sat down and wrote out words that, before he’d come by, defined the ‘drift’ of my own recent thoughts: I kept thinking I was lost, and that I couldn’t figure out what to do. I felt afraid, angry and helpless.
Then I sat back and really allowed the feeling of the Now, my present time, the presentness, to fill me up. It was hard, but didn’t take all that long.
I just listened to my breathing. I concentrated on feeling it come in and out of my nostrils. I suddenly thought, ‘isn’t it amazing how we breathe without even thinking about it?’
I looked at my life now, compared to the way I lived in my last place, and the feelings I felt swamped by there. Truth? Compared to my experience of life just before I came here, things are so much better that it’s laughable to think I’d be complaining or worrying.
So I wrote down, ‘amazed. Feeling grateful, full, in wonder.’
When I opened my eyes again, that feeling of wonder swept over me like a wave – I hadn’t had to process, I hadn’t had to tap.
All I did was to look at what I had been thinking, and then feel how I’d felt, and then reach for words that described that reality.
And then, listen to my in-real-time thoughts, and feel the truth of this present-time reality, and reach for words to describe that. What a difference.
7 ITTY BITTY STEPS TO PEACE
Listen to your mind and what it’s thinking right now.
Write down 3 words that describe what you think is your struggle-reality.
Feel how you feel about that struggle.
Write down 3 words that describe how you feel about that.
Now, sit quietly and focus on your breath. Be aware of it sliding in and out of your nostrils. Look at the colors in the black behind your eyes. Listen to the world.
Breathe it all in, this Now-present-reality. Feel how it feels to just sit and notice.
Write down 3 words that describe your true, real-time, present reality, in comparison to your thought-up, struggle-reality.
Write down 3 words that describe how you feel about that in your real-time, present reality.
Let that feeling hover around and through and in yourself as long as you like.
Did you feel a shift? I hope so, if you have been feeling down or sad or helpless.
•> Remember that you can bring back that same feeling any time or place just by focusing on your breath.
FROM BLOOD TO LOVE
As I think about that 7″ shrapnel scar with the 11 little hearts cascading happily down from it, it’s as if it’s an opening of a sideways love-door, allowing little bright drops of love to slip through.
Having seen what it took for Hank to get his life back from the memories of the brutality of the war and imprisonment, and now, feeling his softness and joy right in front of me like that – all I could think of was, ‘Wow, how good can it get?’
You know I love you!
aloha – Angela
p.s. “”The secret of life,” said sculptor Henry Moore to poet Donald Hall, “is to have a task, something you devote your entire life to, something you bring everything to, every minute of the day for your whole life. And the most important thing is – it must be something you cannot possibly do.”
What is that task for you? Assume that secret helpers are working behind the scenes to assist you in turning into the gorgeous masterpiece you were born to be.
Join the conspiracy to shower all of creation with blessings.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
QUOTE of the DAY
“The real voyage of discovery consists not of seeking new lands but in seeing with new eyes.” ~ Marcel Proust
Thank you to all the people who came to the tap-for-fears-and-upsets call I gave this week! ( If you’d like to watch the replay it’s HERE )
And, to those who complained that, although they were on the call, they didn’t get called on:
Perhaps in all the chaos that has ensued from this crazy health situation you have forgotten the thing that people are doing for you – and I emphasize the word ‘for.’
They are giving you their time and energy to help you – in whatever way they offer – so you can get your feet back on the ground after the shock of this sudden world-changing situation.
Have you ever stopped to question why those people normally charge what they do for their paid sessions, classes, services or products?
They do so because: • they have the training • they have the expertise • they have the experience to know what to do for you • they are really good at what they do, • they help a lot of people, and • it takes a lot of behind-the scenes work to do what they do for people.
The behind-the scenes things we do are invisible actions that you take for granted, because it’s so easy to sign your name on a registration form and simply show up at an appointed hour and get into a freebie class.
It’s not that easy for us – we don’t just open up zoom at 7 pm and start talking and tapping!
What we DO do is this: • spend time before the class carefully researching the problem that will be addressed • prepare the class intention and materials • set up an outline that fits material and time available Then, we: • schedule the class on whatever platform, be it zoom, instanteleseminar, gotowebinar, etc. That means fill in forms, set times, add details, etc.
Then, we have to: • create a website page for telling you about the class • write the copy that tells you about the class • set up the registration or purchase link • set up the thank you page • write the copy for the thank you page • write an email to you announcing the call • schedule it to go out on a specific day • write and send out a followup reminder • send out a right-before-class reminder • get into the class platform • take the time to show up do our best to deliver the best class or session we possibly can.
Then, we don’t just walk away and the video and audio show up magically on a web page. We have to: • save and edit the audio • save and edit the video • put the audio up on the thank you page • put the video up on the thank you page • write an email to you saying it’s ready. • and answer complaints.
Then, if we can, we rest for a bit.
All of that takes a very precious commodity called Time.
We don’t have a lot of it because we spend so much of it working with people who are going through stuff we can help with.
If you get on a call and can’t get personal attention, it’s because there’s only so much we can do for you in one little hour.
If you desperately want to be called on, use the raise-hand system in the chat box, or whatever system is being used.
It may seem to you like there are only a few people on the call. But, there are always people who turn off their name and visibility, so there can be tens or even hundreds on a call that only looks to you like it’s populated by 5 or 8 or 11.
If you seriously want quality, you-directed, personal time with a coach, BUY it. Take responsibility. Do what it takes to get the funds and pay for one or more 1-1 sessions.
Or join a paid group arrangement of only 4 or 5 people, total, so you can be guaranteed personal time with the coach.
That way, you will get the attention and the progress you need and want, and that we want you to have.
A freebie call like the one I did on Monday is to take the edge off the anxiety, fear or upset you may be feeling. In one hour there’s no way I can get to each one of 52 people!
Nor can I even begin to hope to get to the bottom of someone’s core issues and all the accompanying aspects of it in a group call. It takes time. Period.
One thing that is great about group calls is that the energy of all the people expands and increases the more people there are. One person may have an issue alleviated at the end of the call, and never have said a word or been tapped with by me.
And. You cannot – must not – expect me or any other energy or emotions practitioner to heal your wounds.
That’s up to you. You have to do the work. You need to listen carefully to learn the tools I give you, and to the instructions how to use them.
Then you need to take them and use them – during and after the call. It is NOT my responsibility to heal you. It is yours.
Stop playing the victim. Let go of complaining. Complaining is an identity, and doesn’t look good on you – the powerful, amazing, resourceful, creative person I know you are.
Complaining is simply blaming someone else for you feeling helpless and powerless.
Start being aware of the immense amount of grace and blessings around you, every single day, every single minute, right in your own life.
If you can do that one thing, your life will change in the most extraordinary way you could ever imagine.
Please understand that I, and all the other incredibly kind and generous people, who are giving freely of time, energy, products and classes so YOU can feel better, are also human, also vulnerable, and most likely really exhausted from working overtime.
We do it in love. What can YOU do, in love?
Ask yourself what you could do for others to help them feel better, too. Like, what is the simplest thing that you are really good at that someone would gain relief or joy or a feeling of connection from in this crazy world? Go do it.
I painted this as a gift for someone, because he loves wolfies.
I wanted to make kind of an oplalescent underpainting for the light streak to go on top of, so on some parts of the piece, I used lemon yellow first, and a bright pink watered down a bit over that, then a cyan blue.
Then I painted the light streaks in blue, light blue, cyan and white.
After I finished it, I photographed it, thinking I’d send it to another friend to see is she’d like one.
I let it sit about a week so it would be very dry by the time I mailed it. But … major problems!
Within 2 days of finishing it, that pink started to bleed out to the top. By the end of a week, it was glaring through like a damn neon sign. You can kinda see it in this shot, which was taken right after finishing it.
I tried painting over it, and varnishing it and then painting it over, and other various means – but -sadly, that pink just wouldn’t give up. It completely dominated the whole thing. Can we spell burn-that-sucker?
I asked my landlord to put it in her burn pile, and we sat there and watched the art board shimmer and shiver and the wolf writhe and wriggle as the whole thing went up in smoke.
And no, we didn’t breathe the fumes!
It was a 30″ x 40″ painting, so it felt like a huge loss. I was really sorry to see it go – but guess what I will never do again!!!!
Do you know the sure sign of an amateur graphic designer or copywriter?
It’s when they create lengthy text in a document that is center-justified.
Lengthy meaning over 55 characters wide, and longer than 5 to 10 lines. Here’s an example of center-justified text:
The only text that should be centered is:
1. a short quote on a page, like this:
2. a short advertisement, or
3. the text of a formal invitation(like the example below).
Even newsletter, newspaper, magazine and online advertisements are more easily read when left-justified.
Look at this Facebook ad on the left as an example.
The image is on the left so your eye starts with it, then ends up on the text on the right hand side.
That’s good! The text is aligned-left and easy to read. Another good.
So…why is it so much easier to read left-justified over center-justified text?
Because the way we read (in English) demands that our eyes move from left to right.
When the lines in your text are justified left (all text aligned with the left side of the page, like most of the text on this page), your eye has an easy time of it – it knows where to start each sentence automatically, and can glide to the left and pick up the next sentence easily. Even if the right side of the page is jagged (like this one).
But if your text is center-justified,
your eye has to search out the beginning of each sentence,
because each new line starts
in a different location.
Very, very tiring
after reading a whole page of it.
Can you see how difficult it is to read just that short paragraph?
After a while, people won’t read your articles or entries any more because they know they’ll get eyeball exhaustion. You don’t want that to happen!
So only use center-justified text if it is a 1 to 5-line entry that has up to 55 characters left to right, and no more.
Use left-justified for anything else. Your readers will thank you for being a pro, and for how easy you’ve made it to read your copy.
Today I wrote my postman a note on one of my art postcards that has this painting on it.
He’s been a continuing pain in the butt – leaving my mail half sticking in and out of the slot, allowing it to get rained on, not knocking on the door as I asked him to when delivering packages so I can get them before package thieves steal them, and so on.
I WAS going to bitch at him.
But then I thought, maybe he’s just in a hurry because he has to get home to pick up his kids. Maybe he’s new and feels pressured to get through fast. Maybe he’s being bullied because he speaks ‘funny’ (with a Jamaican accent) and he’s upset. Maybe…
So instead, I wrote him this: “Dear Mr. Postman, Please remember: that even when you are in a hurry, or feeling frustrated, there are people who really do deeply appreciate what you do for us. Aloha – ”
Later, I hear him knock, and there he is in his huge padded heavy raincoat, sopping wet, with his mail under it and his headlamp lit because it’s dark already at 5 pm, saying, “thank you, Ms Lyon, thank you so much!” And he leans over and gives me a big ole hug!
I told him I was concerned about him, and he laughed, and said, “You remind me of my mama!”
That felt much better than bitching and moaning about him in my head. I hope he gets home to his kids in a better mood tonight.
In late 1999, I was house-sitting for some friends in Tesuque, NM. (pronounced tess-OO-kee)
It was bloody cold – maybe you don’t know this, but Santa Fe is 7000′ above sea level, and Tesuque is a bit higher.
There was snow that morning; my blankies weren’t sufficient, and being naturally a tropical gal, I was pretty unhappy with how cold it was.
As I woke up in a that very depressed state, I contemplated driving my van over one of the cliffs in the area to end what I perceived as the pain of existence.
Now, before you get all ‘oh you shouldn’t think that way’ righteous on me, you’ve been out-done! Read on for what happened next… Continue reading →
Every morning before I get up, I do my best to spend an hour in meditation. If I don’t do that, I feel disjointed and discombobulated all day, or at lest until I get to sit and focus inside.
It has become such an integral part of my life that if I stopped I would feel as if an essential part of me, like an arm or leg, would feel horribly lost.
I have actually been doing it since the mid 60s, but never as cohesively as now. I just didn’t know how, and all the woowoo info and instructions from gurus never made real sense to me. Continue reading →
I’m not sure what year this is from – probably around ’78 or so, since this is stoneware, and I hadn’t switched to porcelain yet.
I went through a big froggies phase – painting them on tiles, vases, mugs, plates and platters – in greens and blacks and browns – not sure why – it was just fun to see how I could fit their funny shaped bodies into a design.
The process I used is called sgraffito – scratching away a certain mix of black underglaze stain on a green (unfired) piece to reveal the clay under it, and then firing the bisque fired pot with a clear glaze. Continue reading →
I see the world in terms of the Heart – what other way is there to view it if we are to remain at all sane? It has to be the very fundamental core of everything.
Sometimes as I read news items, my heart feels like it’s being ripped and slashed out of me by razor-edged claws.
The only thing that brings me back to being able to function in the world is the love I receive from you and my other readers, and friends around the world I’ve known for many, many years.
I painted this when I was Artist-in-Residence, down in Gore on the South Island of New Zealand.
I had a dream where these women were shocked at my sharing how cool EFT/tapping was.
I was shocked that they were shocked, and finally got them to see how important it is that we know how incredibly powerful our emotions and mindset are.
This is FOR THINE EARS ONLY – oils on canvas, 18″ x 18″
Yesterday at the grocery store, I saw – well, heard – a woman berating her child for dropping and spilling something all over the floor.The horrible things she was yelling at this 5 or 6 year old were unbearable. She must have been upset about something else, too, because the energy she was releasing over such a small thing was way out of proportion to what actually happened.
I moved down to the end of the aisle, my heart beating really fast, and my face heating up as I felt her rage – it was slopping all over everyone in the store. I turned the corner and allowed myself the space to breathe and relax, and get back to center again.
As I did so, I thought of a little energy trick I like to use on people who really need a shift but have no clue even that they do, nor how to do it.
If I gave you an expandable bag to carry, and added one ounce to it every day, within a couple years you’d be carrying around a 100+ pound bag. Certainly not with ease, but you’d be able to carry it.
That’s what happens when you gain weight over time. You are able to carry it because the gaining so gradual.
The effects can be terrible – insulin resistance, diabetes, skin tags, skin problems, rashes, allergies, bad knees, thin hair, sore back, heavy breasts, thighs chafing, pins and needles in swollen feet, rolls around your belly falling over your waistband – but – you’d still be able to carry it.
Last weekend, I went down to the local art center where about 50 artists run a coop gallery so I could sign up for the Open Studios Art Tour.
I was pleased to see some pretty good work there. And surprised at one painting in particular. This painting was about 11″ x 14″ – good size for sales – and it was about a B+ painting. It was good, but certainly not great. But it had a beautiful frame on it.
I expected to see a price tag of between 350 and 550. Nope! Can you guess? 179. You could have knocked me over with the breath from a baby’s burp.
092718- UPDATE: It’s been quite a process, settling in to my new abode. When I left Hawaii, I gave away, sold or threw away almost everything I had. I stashed a good bit in storage – mostly artwork – but let go of more things than I knew I had. It surprised me how much >stuff< I had in such a tiny space.
Now I’m here in a 2BR apartment, and it seems gigantic in comparison! I could put my entire office, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom from my place in Hawaii into one of the bedrooms here. To have to actually walk from my office space in one of the bedrooms to the other bedroom is such a new thing! All I had to do before was stand up and walk half a step. I think I like this new roominess!
It’s not The Ideal Be-All-End-All, but that’s OK – it’s a place I can hunker down and start getting back in the mood of Making. It’s right near my old buddies, and is in a little community of apartments in a nice neighborhood.
Now I can relax a little, and start looking around for a place that would accommodate all my arty needs. So happy to be here! (Chico, CA)
In 2006, I visited the tiny town of San Blas, Mexico.
Self-portrait #2, done in the style of Amadeo Modigliani, one of my all-time favorite painter/sculptors.
Yesterday at the grocery store, I saw – well, heard – a woman berating her child for dropping and spilling something all over the floor.The horrible things she was yelling at this 5 or 6 year old were unbearable. She must have been upset about something else, too, because the energy she was releasing over such a small thing was way out of proportion to what actually happened.
Last weekend, I went down to the local art center where about 50 artists run a coop gallery so I could sign up for the Open Studios Art Tour.
