Love, Belonging, Being Alone

I continue the topic of love, of not feeling loved, not feeling I can ever fully love again…

Something else came to me the other night: Mum always had me. I was always so close to her. Yeah, I may not have always been exactly how she wanted me to be, but I was there for her as she was always there for me... until the end when I couldn't handle it anymore and had to let her go. (Another guilt -- that I couldn't be who she wanted me to be.) But she always had me, and I always had her... until I didn't.

Hmmm... is this it? Am I punishing myself because I feel I threw my mother away when I couldn't care for her anymore? (Which really isn't totally true -- I didn't throw her away even though part of me feels I did... all that past, low self-esteem crap and such.) But I couldn't. I just couldn't. As much as I keep saying I want to be alone, is there a part of me that doesn't feel I deserve to be loved? Because I feel I wasn’t the daughter she wanted me to be?

I know, this isn't it exactly and there are other reasons I choose to be alone. It's not that I deserve to be alone. I really DO choose to be alone. 'Though it can be lonely. But I don't have time or energy to put into "being" with someone. I'm no longer willing to compromise, to give up part of myself to please someone else (which was how I always felt I had to be.) And, even saying this makes me feel guilty.

And, with some of this, I’m not just talking about Mum. I’m also talking about the guys I’d been in love with throughout my life and how I felt I could never be me around anyone. It felt I was always having to dance to someone else’s tune… but this is another story.

Life IS complicated! It's not all black and white. Nuances, circumstances, situations all play a part in life. I still miss my mum so much. Especially with it coming up on the anniversary of her passing, Christmas Day 2011.

Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy and family and… but I choose to be alone. I can’t even fathom being with anyone. Ten years and I’m still broken.

 

Lacking the Giving Gene

 

A topic that’s always on my mind this time of year is what to do about Christmas gifts. It’s weird, but I’ve struggled with this my entire life. It’s not that I don’t want to give, it’s about knowing what to give. Most the time, the effort of going out to find what to give torments me and causes me heartache and guilt.

My mother never had this problem. She loved giving and would start buying gifts in January for the following year. Whenever she’d be out shopping and see something she just knew so and so would love, she’d buy it and put it away until Christmas. She always seemed to know what others would want.

I’m not like that. I don’t enjoy shopping… heck, I don’t even like shopping for myself! I am not a happy shopper at all! I am tormented by things like, if I spend this amount on this person, I have to do the same for the next. I don’t know why my brain gets so befuddled. I was like this when I was young, too.

These later years, I’ve toyed with not giving at all, then break down and send something. I like to get a couple gifts, too, but that’s not the reason to give. Every year this turmoil eats at me. If I buy you a $25 gift certificate and you buy me a $25 gift certificate, what’s the point?

I don’t understand it. It’s like there’s something deep inside me that’s been so hurt throughout my entire life that I am damaged forever. This ties into the love issue, too, and that’s a topic I don’t even know how to talk about. I’m hoping the words will come some day so I can figure it out.

Once again, family and I decided not to give to one another this year, yet the guilt within me builds. There are a few I HAVE to buy for because I can’t not give. But I don’t KNOW what to give/send them! Of course, I can come up with excuses, however, it doesn’t make me feel any better.

There is No One True Way (an opinion)

Since mankind began, there has always been controversy, aggression, wars. Someone always wants what the other guy has. Someone else’s lands are always greener (or has more gold and other resources). Some believe in this deity and others worship another. The bigger, richer aggressor usually wins and often, the losers, if not killed, were enslaved. ALL cultures have done this, starting with tribes warring against other tribes.

As time went on, societies grew, and countries expanded ever farther. The richest, more powerful overthrew the smaller… Oh, they all had their reasons. Their way was always better (in their eyes) than the next guy’s. This ethnic or religious group was better than that one. They’d stop at nothing to take the riches of the less powerful… often in the names of their gods, pharaohs, kings… and even the pope.

And those in power never seem to have enough and go after more and more. It’s just as true in these times. Some things have changed and are different, but the bottom line is the same. And it doesn’t matter which side is the “good guy.” There are always those who want more and are ruthless enough to not care how they get it.

Smoke and Mirrors, Sleight of Hand, False Promises

All cultures have their dark sides. The United States is not immune. Because people will be people. It seems that even those who started out with good intentions, once they come into power, turn into monsters, shoving their beliefs down others’ throats, threatening, fearmongering, and twisting the meaning of words.

In these times, you can’t believe anything being said. Unfortunately, people fall for anything that sounds promising, anything that will make them feel better, anything that gives them hope. The powers-that-be know how to tell the people all the good things people want to hear, while bad mouthing their opponents.

Follow the Money

One saying I hear from time to time and think should be shouted more is: “Follow the money!” Where does the money go? Who gets it? Is it really used for good purposes? How much of that gets syphoned into a few people’s pockets? And should the U.S. be sending billions (yes, billions) of dollars to foreign countries when our own children and veterans are homeless and hungry?

No matter what, someone somewhere must pay. Today, even huge corporations have become their own countries and take over the smaller competitors and heighten their own riches not caring who they stomp on along the way. They fund campaigns of politicians to further their agendas and the politicians become beholden to them and not the citizens they’re supposed to be representing.

I look at how the rich get richer and there are more and more poor people in the world… I’m beginning to believe the everyday taxpayers have become the new slaves. Is it better off to sell your homes, quit your job, go on welfare or disability, and expect others and the government to take care of you? It almost seems that way.

There is No One True Way or Answer

There are many people who struggle to get by, need help. But there are also a lot who have learned to “work the system.” I know people who have truly needed help and have been unable to get it – or it’s a fight all the way – and those who just walk in the door and are given all the “freebies” they ask for, whether they really deserve it or not.

Mental health is a big issue nowadays. All anyone has to do is to proclaim a mental issue and they don’t have to get jobs. Again, this is sad because there are people out there who really do need the help! But now, it seems many people play the mental health card… and it’s even being put on children.

Do the answers resolve around more programs and organizations? (As if more organizations are needed.) And who has the time to really decipher the honest from the dishonest?

I don’t know what the answers are, and I certainly wouldn’t do well on any committee trying to make things better. But from what I’ve seen these past years, I’m having a hard time believing there’s any hope for mankind.

What happened to being proud to have a job (whether you liked it or not, YOU paid your bill, put food on your table, and took care of your family!) Nowadays, it’s seems more people are being rewarded for not working.

Again, what are the answers? There are still many out there who work hard to make an honest living. There are those who “suck it up” every day, no matter how they feel, and do what’s needed to get by. How are they rewarded? By having to pay more taxes!

Pork Barrel Politics

I had an interesting conversation with my neighbor. He brought up a subject that’s been on my mind, but I hadn’t been sure how to write about it yet.

There is a lot of controversy and bashing whenever Governor Sununu vetoes a bill. I’ve often wondered why he would veto something that sounds like it would be so beneficial… but I also know, bills are not a simple, one-subject. Voting to accept one bill means also accepting a lot of other bills which are not being publicized. (Otherwise known as pork barrel politics.)

I first heard the term “pork” years ago but never paid much attention. Then, during the COVID pandemic, I began finding out about all the other bills attached to the COVID bills which had absolutely nothing to do with COVID. In other words, millions of taxpayers’ dollars fund other bills having nothing to do with the promoted bill!

The definition of pork barrel politics is: “… the legislator's practice of slipping funding for a local project into a budget. The project may have nothing to do with the bill and may benefit only the legislator's home district. Before a bill gets to a vote, pork-barreling has often greatly inflated its costs through the addition of various legislators' pet projects.”

In other words, the legislature and politicians put together a good-sounding bill which gets all the media attention. But then they attach a lot of other bills which no one ever hears about (unless they do a ton of research), and which furthers the politicians’ personal agendas. And there’s also the “I’ll vote for your bill if you vote for mine” behind-the-scenes manipulating.

So, when a governor vetoes a do-good bill, it could be because of other wording in attached bills and nothing to do with the main bill. Perhaps this is all a lesson in looking below the surface. It’s easy to take a partially heard statement (whether purposely misrepresented or just misunderstood) and fly off the handle. Too many times we only hear a part of a line of a speech or bill and what the speaker intended becomes grossly twisted.

Maybe the most important question is always to ask, “What exactly do you mean by that?”

And, unfortunately, we can’t trust the media to report the truth. It’s all about interpretation and who’s doing the reporting. And too, how many people want to spend the time researching and double checking everything the government (whether state or federal) is doing? Aren’t we supposed to be able to trust those who are supposedly representing us?

We should all be informed about the entirety of the bills being passed.

A big term being used these days is “transparency.” Where’s the transparency in all this? 

Listening to Elders

Now that I’m up there in my years and experiencing many of the issues older people deal with, I wish I had listened more to my Mum. I remember getting so exasperated with her when all (it seemed) she would talk about was her getting old problems. It got so all she’d talk about was this pain or that and either being constipated or having diarrhea… and how she was sure the doctors had a magic pill to make people better, but they just wouldn’t give them out.

(As my friend Nan always says, “The medical profession doesn’t make money off healthy people.”)

When I was younger, I saw my mother’s comments about her health as complaints. She wouldn’t take any advice. It seemed she just wanted to complain. And yes, some people are like that. I had another friend who used to call my mother and aunt “The Moan and Groan Sisters.”

And I think about all the comedians who have always made “old people” jokes. And yes, it was funny… because it is important to be able to laugh about some things in life. But, too, it’s also an opportunity to learn and understand. It helps to know these issues are things many of us deal with as we get older.

These days, now that I’m dealing with some of the same issues Mum used to complain about, I understand there is a need to talk about it. Not as complaining but as part of a life story. There are issues we all end up dealing with, such as: joint pain, dry skin, sagging, being unsteady on your feet, hearing and eyesight diminishing, being tired a lot, et. al., and it helps to talk about it, get it off your chest, so to speak. (Or, as I like to say, out of my head because I easily get caught up in a downward spiral when my mind keeps on and on about whatever is bothering me in the moment.)

Unfortunately, I heard in Mum’s voice the “woe is me” tone. Maybe that’s why I didn’t really listen. And maybe there was a part of me that wouldn’t accept that she was declining, so I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t want to face losing her. I wanted my mum to be healthy and active like she used to be… but that isn’t life.

Now I feel I’m getting the same way in some aspects. I don’t want to sound whiny, and it bothers me that I might. Perhaps that makes me wish even more that Mum was here to talk to. Is this what you experienced, Mum? Did you feel bad I refused to listen or let you talk about it?

I wish I had taken time not only to listen to Mum but to actually talk to her about what she was feeling… to have a conversation with more compassion and understanding. I feel guilty I hadn’t done so. Often, I look over to her photo and say, “I hear you, Mum. I understand now.”

My eyes fill with tears because I wish we had had these conversations when she was still her. I wish we could have these conversations now. I’d like to ask her more direct questions about what she was experiencing. Oh, there are a lot of things I wish I’d asked her about her life.

The lesson: Talk to people, especially your older family members – and even the younger. Find out what makes them tick. Really listen openly to what they’re saying without trying to push your beliefs on them. Let them tell their stories without your personal opinions getting in the way.

I try to do this more these days. I’m curious about people’s personal stories. There’s a difference between a “woe is me” vibe and someone just needing to talk it out. Sometimes, just having someone listen is enough to make you feel better.

 

Power Corrupted Leaders -- An opinion

I don’t see any politicians really doing anything good for the people. They make more laws and set up new organizations and committees, but the problems don’t get solved. The issues get more complicated. The more laws, the less freedom… and yet, crime continues to escalate. (My mind always cries, “Who are the ones really benefiting from all this?)

They take more and more from the taxpayers, fattening their own pockets, and supporting foreigners and those unwilling to work. (Yes, there are many who need help, but there are also now so many unwilling to get a real job and think it’s their right to sit back and let others take care of them. They’ve learned how to work the system.)

Big money rules – whether through corporations like Big Pharma or even drug lords and mafia, along with many of the super-rich... who lobby and fund politicians’ campaigns. They do NOTHING for the everyday, hardworking American citizens. (At least, that’s how I see things these days.)

And I feel they care more about foreigners and foreign countries than they care about their own people. Why the government sends BILLIONS of dollars to foreign countries while U.S. citizens are homeless and go hungry is mind boggling. The Dems are also all about protecting and freeing criminals.

I just don’t get it. Why aren’t people seeing this? Because they’re too caught up believing the lies and the false promises? The liberals promote a few do-gooder things people want to hear but spend most their time spewing their hatred on anyone who disagrees.

And they’re so busy screaming against the Republicans, you have no idea what the Democrats are really up to except for fearmongering, finger pointing, and accusing others of the very things they’re doing and promoting. I just don’t get it.

There are so many similarities to the beginnings of Fascism, Nazism, and Communism. Those leaders (Franco, Mussolini, Hitler, and Stalin – among others) promised they were taking care of their people, but in reality, they were just pushing their own personal agendas seeking total control and fattening theirs and their cronies’ coffers. And it’s now happening in this country!

Look at history and it’s true it repeats. Different era, different technology, but the end results are for the same reasons – total control over the masses while getting rich. And this has been true since mankind began.

Funny how there will be a coup in a country and in time, the new leadership becomes the same as the one they overthrew. It’s almost like something happens in people’s brains when they become leaders. All the good they originally promoted (for those who had good intentions), gets thrown out the window. What is that saying? “Power corrupts.”

The Greed of the Wealthy and Leaders

“I have never understood why it is ‘greed’ to want to keep the money you earned but not greed to take somebody else's money.” – Thomas Sowell

I saw this saying today and it’s really resonating with me. I’ve wondered this type of thing for a very long time – even more so these last couple of years. I’ve never been able to put it in such a simple statement, though. How true this is!

I don’t understand it, either, but this has been going on forever. This is how all governments and leaders have always worked… and corporations. It doesn’t matter what country or place or century; mankind has always done this type of thing to others. And leaders (any leader of any civilization or organization or even towns) have always done this. Oh, they all have excuses, but the bottom line is that they are thieves at the expense of people who are supposed to look up to them.

It’s one thing to tax people for the good of the town or country, but these leaders don’t stop with what their town or area needs. They fatten their own personal coffers way more than is necessary – at the expense of hard workers – which is robbery. Many countries enslave others, so they don’t have to pay them to work which fattens their own coffers even easier.

This country finally abolished slavery, but government leaders and officials have found other ways to make themselves richer at the expense of their citizens. They now become wealthy from the corporate lobbyists who fund their campaigns, and which makes the politicians beholden to the corporations. It’s no longer about what’s good for everyday citizens or specific regions. Its just about these factions getting wealthier and wealthier. They could care less about the public and consumers except for getting even more money out of them.

Huge corporations buy out smaller businesses crippling local economy. It seems to be a constant take, take, take, and what comes back to the public is a trickle of goods and services. Good customer service are just a few fancy words that mean nothing nowadays. It’s another placebo term to make people believe they are getting their money’s worth.

And they use disasters and huge problems to create even more issues, shortages, and health issues to further cripple citizens into having to go along with whatever the leaders are trying to force. Stalin, Mussolini, Franco, and Hitler (among others) did it. They used world problems to further their takeover endeavors and used propaganda to lie and convince their populations they were only thinking of helping them. Ha! (This is putting it simply, but it’s all there in the history.)

And that’s another topic: (what I call) placebo terms. There are many placebo terms bandied about these days. Words are used, which, by normal definitions are good things, but the meanings have now been twisted to mean the exact opposite. For instance, every time I hear the word “transparency,” I look to see what they’re trying to hide.

The word diversity is a signal that some belief is being pushed down others’ throats. Those who are spewing about the injustice of prejudice and hatred are the ones promoting it. The more they’re forcing the issue, the more negativity it creates.

I’m not saying there’s not prejudice and injustice. There always has been and probably always will be. People will be people with their own beliefs. Not everyone is liked. Not everyone ever will be. There will always be disagreements. Freedom of speech is important, but so is kindness and courtesy.

I don’t know what the right answers are to “fix” our problems, but what is happening now in the world and within the education system is not the answer. Forcing people into thinking one way or following specific dictates – becomes a dictatorship and becomes another form of enslavement – an enslavement of speech making people into sheep who can only go, “Baaa, baaa,” and “Whatever you say, master.”

I am beginning to believe the slaves nowadays in this country are the everyday taxpayers. And that’s not to put down all the others around the world who are truly slaves to their current governments.

(And again, I don’t know the answers, and I certainly wouldn’t want to be on any committee to solve the problems. All I know is that what’s going on now is NOT working and it’s not fair to the general public. The only ones truly benefiting are the politicians, corporations, and super rich.)

This was another instant where someone else’s words inspired me to write my own take on a topic.

 

 

 

Weekly Show ‘n’ Tell

Our weekly show ‘n’ tells are important. It’s an opportunity to share works in process and get a little critique. It’s also interesting to see how the paintings compare to the reference photos. Our differences are interesting, too, because Nan McCarthy is a photo realist, it’s important to her to match her painting to the photo, whereas I use the photo as a reference only and don’t try to match my painting exactly to the photo.

(Photo is the progress of my latest pastel painting "In the Still of the Coming Dawn." Still have work to do. Thank you to  Jackie Stetser for the original reference photo.)

Like me, though, she works from lightened copies of the original reference photo. Often the original photos have dark areas (which is what draws me in) but trying to see what’s going on those dark areas to fully get the nuances in the painting is difficult if I can’t see in there. The lighter versions show us better details, but it’s still important to look at the original photo, too, because those darker nuances help to make the scene more intriguing… and are often the reasons the scene draw us in the first place.

I know I get so caught up in the print I’m working from in the studio, I forget to look at the original on the computer. The originals are always darker, deeper toned. I need to bring the two versions together to make the painting really pop.

Another good point in show ‘n’ tell is another set of eyes can pick up something missed. I get so involved when working on a painting, I miss some aspects like an important detail, a point of light or a darkened space which would add more contrast to the area. It’s kind of like that old saying, “Can’t see the forest through the trees.” Plus, while painting, we are so close to the work, it can sometimes make us a little narrow minded with it. (Not quite explaining this how I want to.)

But Nan agreed. Our eyes and mind will focus on certain things, and we’ll not see other detail. Another set of eyes may see those details. I find it funny because, once those details are pointed out, I see it. How did I miss that?

Also, looking at other artists’ work, even those working in a different medium, can help us learn and evolve in our own work. The sharing and discussions are like a breath of fresh air when we’re feeling stuck in our painting progress. I am so grateful for these opportunities.

Unable to go the Last Mile

Wanting my paintings to sell but not having the energy to set up at shows and run all around…

I’m having a dilemma with my paintings – the cost of getting them framed and not having them sell. If I’m not showing and selling, I’m wasting money… which I really can’t afford. But I don’t have the energy, stamina, and the wherewithal to go that last mile of setting up at shows, running around delivering, etc. Not at this age and having to do it alone.

My paintings look much more stunning double matted and framed, but it’s wasted money when the paintings don’t sell. I only have so much room on my walls. Last year I had a few sales, but this year is dismal even though I’ve participated in half a dozen shows.

It’s the same thing with my books. I get them written, then stall in the end. My brain just won’t wrap around the expense of publishing and all the effort of marketing. It’s heartbreaking. I could cry just thinking about having to do all that. I put so much into these efforts then I can’t mentally and emotionally deal with marketing – making deals, finding the best venues, doing the legwork, not knowing who to trust, etc.

It eats at me emotionally, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I love most of my paintings and the books I have written. To think that it’ll all be trashed when I die is so sad, but then, I’m the only one who cares about it all. I’d love to sell, but the creative drive to produce is what makes me feel alive whereas the marketing aspects crush me.

When I moved here to this house in 2015, I threw away a lot of older charcoal landscape drawings – matted and framed – which meant a lot of money was lost. It still bothers me, but I just don’t have the room to store a lot of paintings. I try not to think about it. My heart still aches over it, though. So much hard work thrown in a dumpster. Heartbreaking.

The call to create makes me feel alive – painting and writing. It takes up a lot of my time, especially mentally. My mind is on fire… until the flames burn out, and when that happens, I’m drained. I pour it all into the colors and words, then I’m done until the next day when the fire ignites again.

I’m kind of at a loss on how to handle this. I can’t not paint and write. It’s who I am. And, as long as I’m doing a few shows a year, I have to mat and frame. Maybe I shouldn’t mat. Not all pastel artists do. But the paintings look so good matted…

Oh, the dilemma. Maybe I should try a couple not matted and see how it goes.

Trying Something Different

Last week I watched a paint-around where two of the four artists worked on black paper. I’d tried a couple times before but didn’t like the paper texture. I decided to try the black paper again. I had the start of a dunes scene which had been sitting on the easel for a while (original photo on the right) and figured doing this scene two ways would allow me to compare.

Yesterday, I cut a piece of black Art Spectrum Colourfix paper and did the initial layout for the painting in vine charcoal using the same original photo as the WIP painting. Yeah, this paper has a rougher surface than the BFK Rives paper, which I prefer for its smoothness. I moved the sketch to a studio table easel and started adding some color.

I noticed the layout with this new one is not the same as the earlier start. The horizon is higher, but as I work freehand, it doesn’t matter.

Today, I moved this to the DT easel to work both paintings simultaneously bouncing back and forth between them. It’s interesting to experience with how the pastel goes on each one.

River Dunes ion BFK Rives                                    Winding Dunes Trail on black Art S

The sandy areas are a challenge. I’m kind of experimenting in how to get them to look right. I am thankful I’m not trying to recreate the photo exactly. It’s interesting how the colors lay on the textured paper. I’d intended to try an alcohol was (which many pastel artists talk about doing), but I just dive right in painting and couldn’t stop… until my feet said, “Enough!”

 

Finding Buried Treasure

Some of my favorite programs to watch are “Expedition Unknown” and other history shows about buried treasures and shipwreck loot. I enjoy them because it’s about history and I love learning about history. Of course, I realize “Expedition Unknown” highlights events that happened previously, and they make it more present-day to make the show more interesting, as if Josh Gates, himself, is right there on first discovery. But who doesn’t like a treasure hunt… even if it’s not totally in the present year.

The episode this week was of John Ashley, a gangster/pirate/bootlegger, living in the Florida Everglades, who supposedly buried a lot of money in the swamp. (Of course, they never find the real treasure.)

It got me to wondering again… all these buried treasure tales from the Aztecs, the Dalton Gang, Jesse James, John Dillinger, and anyone who’s ever been said to have buried treasure, and more – is it really possible there’s ALL that treasure/money out there that’s never been found? When people have been searching for hundreds of years? I even watched some episodes a year or so ago about a train car full of Confederate gold supposedly sunk in … Lake Michigan … I think it was.

I vaguely remember a few years ago a couple in California found some buried treasure while out hiking but that doesn’t happen often. (Or, if it does, no one talks about it.) I don’t know how that outcome was.

If there’s all that treasure still buried, why hasn’t it been found with today’s technology? Is it because it really isn’t there? That someone might have already found it? Could the money have already been dispersed by the gangs? That it’s just people keeping the legends alive for publicity’s sake?

I wonder, too, what would happen if you found a stash of buried treasure? Do you turn it in? If it’s viable money, do you keep quiet and spend it? And, what would happen if you turned it in? Would the authorities just keep it? (And did that happen back in the day? Kept quiet and kept the money for themselves?)

I ask myself that question, too. If I found a treasure, would I turn it in? I totally believe in being honest, but in this kind of a case, I’m not sure what I’d do… because I don’t trust anyone. I suppose it depends on the treasure. If it’s something history-museum worthy, I’d definitely turn it in, but if it’s spendable/useable in today’s markets, would I keep quiet no matter how exciting it’d be to find treasure?

Imagine what it’d be like to find buried treasure. Then again, I can go out in my yard and find a new flower blooming or a pretty stone and feel like that’s treasure. But goodness, an honest-to-God, real treasure?

What would you do?

The Paint-Around

L-R: Keith Demanche, Lisa Regopoulos, Terri Brooks,
and Maryann Mullett with the finished a paint-around

July 30: Closing day of the Pastel Society of New Hampshire’s Members Exhibition 2022 at the Wolfeboro Library and I arrived to pick up my paintings. This was my first juried exhibit with them since joining last year and I was up for an award. I was nervous. I only know a couple of them, and as I get a bit of anxiety around groups of people, it’s often a struggle for me to go places. I’m OK once I get there and start chatting with others.

The room was being set up for a paint-around demonstration. I’d not heard about a “paint-around.” I’m not interested in watching painting demonstrations. I don’t watch You-Tube videos, take webinars, or anything like that. I want to be painting and doing my own thing! I thought about slipping out until it was over, but I’m so glad I stayed.

Four artists set up in the front of the room, each easel on a floor covering to protect the carpet from falling pastel dust. Each had their own palette table or attachment to the easel (plein air artists have a more solid, portable set up than those who are studio artists.) Their set ups included the support/paper they would be working on, plus the reference photo to paint from. One woman had hers on an i-Pad instead of a print.

A timer was set, and the artists had 10 minutes to start their paintings. At the end of 10 minutes, they moved to the next person’s painting for another 10 minutes, then on to the next, etc. Each one worked on one another’s painting with a final 10 minutes back at their own original painting.

When I first heard that this was what a paint-around was, I thought, “I’d never dare do this; work in front of others let alone swap to work on someone else’s painting. What if I messed someone’s up?”

Of the three doing landscapes, two artists had black U-Art 400 paper. The other two never said what paper they were using. One had her background painted orange and the fourth had pre-drawn an outline of her still life.

I was curious about the colored backgrounds. I was especially intrigued by the orange background and was totally amazed with what that did in regards to the original photo as the artists took their turn at it. (I’ve tried color a couple of times but couldn’t really tell if it made a difference. Now, however, I’m inspired to try again.

At first, all was quiet as the artists dove in their work. It was amazing how fast they worked, although, I really shouldn’t be surprised. Then those of us watching were invited to ask questions, such as what kind of paper and was it difficult to work with someone else’s palettes – as not everyone sets their palettes the same way. Plus, there are different types of pastels.

There was conversation about underpaintings. Not all types of paper will hold a wet underpaintings such as with watercolor or alcohol wash. Some papers will curl. There were comments on sanded papers. I didn’t see the blue painter’s tape which I use to attach my paper to the easel. One woman used a big clip, two others used a couple short strips of masking tape in the corners, and I couldn’t tell how the other woman attached hers.

I asked about the uprightness of the easels. I keep hearing that’s the way pastel artists should work. I tried it and was not comfortable with the easel being so vertical… and that means I deal with pastel dust getting onto my paintings. Hmm, maybe I should adjust my easels and try again…

The scenes came together as they swiftly worked. Oh, I wanted to get closer and look over each one’s shoulder. I wanted to see clearer how they were making their strokes. I was mesmerized and I almost wished I could jump in there and have a go at it myself.

One thing that stood out for me was I didn’t see anyone doing any kind of rubbing until the very end, and then that was minimal. I rub a lot to blend and soften because I prefer smoothness in my paintings. I also know many artists are more about the strokes.

So many other questions I would have liked to ask, but would it make me sound unprofessional, like a newbie artist? For instance, I’d like to know more about underpainting – I usually use pan pastels. What’s their favorite pastels to work with? Favorite support? What are their challenges? (Which is what I want to know most as I’m fascinated by people’s personal journeys.)

And, it’s not that I think any one is better than the next. We all have our own styles and techniques. I’m just curious in how people work, why they do this over that. Not that I want to copy from them, but there are always tips we can pick up from one another.

Cheers to my best friend Nan McCarthy

I’ve never had a lot of best friends. Throughout my life, I’ve had a couple here and there. The longest friendship I’ve had in my life, from childhood, dissolved over politics a couple years ago when she couldn’t accept I didn’t have the same beliefs as her. Others have just come and gone.

Nan McCarthy and I hit it off when we first met over 10 years ago (wow, has it been that long?) and since then, our friendship has solidified. It started over art, which was kind of funny (to me) because our styles and mediums are so different. She’s a photo realist acrylic painting and I’ve evolved from a looser (still like sharp lines, though) charcoal landscapes to pastel painter.

But what’s amazing, too, is we can comment on each other’s work and make suggestions, and yet, if those suggestions aren’t followed, it’s OK. Through her, I’ve learned to be confident in commenting on art as I try to purposely find positive artsy words for any artist I speak with.

This has been exciting. Any comments I make are totally my personal thoughts and if the other person doesn’t agree, then that’s OK. Suggestions are opinions and opinions are a personal view. I don’t hold any kind of a grudge. I never intend to tell someone what to do, so there are no hard feelings if my suggestions aren’t taken. We all work at finding our on way.

Painting, to me, is another part of the journey of life, and I am willing to take a detour from a previous thought if it hits me. Even a suggestion that doesn’t resonate, could trigger me to be open to something else. An inner reaction of, “I don’t want to do that,” could lead to another idea, another path to go down, and that’s exciting… and sometimes, I have to think about things for awhile before deciding which direction to go in.

Nan’s and my friendship grew stronger when we found we have a lot of similar beliefs and yet, even where we do have a couple of differences, we totally respect each other that that is so. We can pretty much talk about anything… and we do. Never have I ever felt any kind of put down or heard anything like, “How can you possibly believe that?” which I’ve heard from others in the past. Never has she ever told me what to do then act insulted if I don’t follow her dictates (as I’ve felt from other so-called friends in the past.)

Our friendship totally allows me to be me, as I allow her to be her. How special is that! I feel I’ve been missing this kind of friendship my entire life. It’s hard to find the right words to describe this and give honor to her.

Thank you, Nan McCarthy, for being my best friend!

Overcoming Being Devastated with my Painting Progress

"Sunset's Grace," 10 3/4 x 19 3/4 pastel painting.

Reference photo courtesy: Wand Santti

Spent over half an hour in the studio this morning. Horribly frustrated! How did I go from it looking good to it looking awful? So muddy. It’s like the pastel is falling off onto the rest of the painting even when I’m not in the room. I’m so devastated… again.

I worked and worked the sky. Turned on the fan. Used the hair dryer to blow off excess dust. Then I ended up totally wiping off the left tree down the water and started doing repairs. I’m not happy. I’m heartbroken and sick to my stomach. Tears fell.

I wonder, do I spend too much time on a painting? Do I need to work quicker and get it done? Is this why artists make their paintings so blurry? Of course, I still don’t want to work that way.

While eating lunch, I couldn’t stop thinking about the painting. At 1 p.m., I decided to have another go at it, so back in the studio for another hour. Is it worth it? So, many times, I was tempted to walk away, but I kept at it. For once, I wore a mask and thought I would smother, but I had the little fan on. I don’t know what’s worse, blowing or the fan. Either way the dust flies.

I ended up moving the lamp to the other side of the easel because the shadow of my hand kept blocking what I was working on. And I kept working. Part of the problem is there’s so much thick, soft pastel layers. I guess this is a lesson to work more with hard pastels in the beginning … and maybe use an alcohol wash like a lot of other artists. I’ve never tried that and keep thinking I should.

I finally got to the bottom of the page and started working the ground to the right adding more detail. Figured I’d done enough. Hopefully, the next time in the studio will be the finishing work.

When I stood up to leave, I just had to do a little more work. Hmm, I seem to do better standing up. I don’t like the top of that left tree. I can’t get it dark enough with all the layers… but how do I get the sky in first?

I was amazed when I stood back how good it looked. Of course, I still have the right lower side to finish, and I do see a couple corrections needing to be made. As always, from a distance, it looks amazing.

 

On Sadness – Part 2: Damaged by Love

There’s something within me that emotionally hurts. A hurt so deep from which I will never recover. Every so often, the subject comes up in my thoughts. The feeling brings tears, especially when I’m feeling lonely. I will never love/trust anyone (a man, a lover) ever again. EVER! Just thinking about it brings more tears.

I’ve been wanting to write about this for years but have never been able to find the right words. I certainly never want to be insulting to anyone or have them misunderstand, and I’m afraid of being all alone in how I feel. I’m afraid if I say how I truly feel, others will slam me. Today, though, the words seem to be coming. Maybe it’s time that I can talk about this fear of love that is bottled inside.

I wonder if, years ago, I loved, then was hurt, too deeply that that part of me has been destroyed. Yet there’s something within me that misses the cuddling, handholding, hugs… but not the sex. Sadly, there’s something inside me that equates love with sex… and I hate that! I know love isn’t really about sex, which is one reason why I feel messed up in my head.

(Sex isn’t real love – it’s only a physical urge that needs to be released – but, for some reason that part of me is afraid others will hear the word love and think sex. I know, it sounds stupid, even to me, but that’s how I feel. I’m afraid to really say I love anyone for fear they’ll mistake my meaning.)

And, unfortunately, those past experiences of being in love with a man have colored all other aspects of love (which it shouldn’t, but it makes me so afraid to love.) Yet, when I think how much I love my kitty, Pele, and even neighbor kitty Leo, tears fill my eyes. So, I’m capable of love. I just don’t trust loving a man.

I have friends and family who, after many years, reached the point in their relationships that the partners are best friends and soulmates. They still love one another after all they’ve been through during their marriages. And I do have friends and family whom I love, but still, there is fear inside…

I try to figure this all out. How did I get so damaged? I’m not blaming my old partners. And, when you’re young, things are different.

There are many aspects of love. There’s the love of family. We first learn to love our parents, siblings, grandparents, and other relatives. Even friendships can turn into loving friendships. There’s going to church and learning how we’re supposed to love God… but I eventually learned to even mistrust that as I came to see it as being something taught by men (and women) to control others. (That doesn’t mean I’m not a spiritual being.) We’re taught to love country and government, but again…

Then there’s the love of things which can be individual likes or getting caught up in the latest fads. There’s the hero worship of celebrities and more. I can make a long list of loves: music, flowers, painting, reading, studying history, etc.

I have family and good friends whom I love. But I feel I tiptoe in fear of being thrown aside if I say or do something they don’t like. I’m afraid of being shunned and ridiculed again… as it’s happened my entire life…

After my mum passed away, I was totally alone and pulled back further and narrowed my world. And, with what’s happened the last two years, I’m becoming even more of a recluse and I choose to be so.

Well, I feel a bit better now that I’ve finally been able to talk about this. Living a creative, whole-hearted life means I need to delve into issues that affect me. It’s shining a light into the darkest parts of my soul to release the grief. Breathe in… breathe out… Ahhhh.

Blur or Not to Blur

My painting style has always been about sharp lines. I’ve never cared for paintings in the impressionism style. And yet, lately, I am liking some aspects of what I usually call “blurry.”

Perhaps this all stems from my lack of traditional art training. I’ve always been one to find my own way. It’s about the journey, the trial and error, the self-discovery and not doing exactly as others do it. This is what excites me about painting – and, of course, sharing the beauty.

This “blurry” topic is, for me, experimenting with balance. I need to decide for myself which areas need softer edges. After all, I’m not a photo realist, so it doesn’t matter if I don’t have the lines exact. As a matter of fact, I don’t even do an initial layout exactly like the photo. I tend to move, delete, or add trees, rocks, bushes, etc.

I’ll study the photo, but the minute I pick up a pastel, my hand just starts moving, almost seemingly on its own. I usually call this, “the painting helping to paint itself.” It’s like my logical brain snoozes and something else takes over – not for long but a few minutes at a time.

Part of me is thinking about what I’m doing, but another part of me can’t help what my hand is doing. I go back and forth between moments of just intuitive doing and then putting more logical thought into it. It’s an interesting process which I find intriguing.

Today, I couldn't leave "A Glorious Dawn" alone and after making some adjustments, I went back in the studio, hated the change I made earlier and spent 45 minutes trying to fix it. I wiped off and covered up the orangey color I’d added to the water earlier. That meant I had a lot of repair work to do. 

I worked and worked. I tried to get the water right, add movement, etc. I am not happy.

I am sooo disappointed in myself. A lesson in leaving it alone when I feel done. I feel sick to my stomach. I loved this painting yesterday. Now I want to cry.

Falling Under the Spells of Charismatic People

I watched a documentary on Brian Wilson of Beach Boys fame. It was interesting hearing him talk about his mental illness and a healthcare provider who took advantage of him. It got me to thinking more on how we can easily be taken in by others.

I never got wrapped up in celebrities. There have been a couple of times in my life where I kind of fell for it. First, for me, was The Monkees. That was my rebellion against everyone else going ga-ga over The Beatles. Thankfully, that didn’t last because something inside me has always kept me from falling for the latest, greatest.

But, many years later at a healers’ meeting, I almost fell for some “leader”-type guy. I went home that night and all I could think about was how wonderful this guy sounded, how he had all these interesting theories on how to live a good life, how we can all live better, healthy lives, etc. I can’t even remember exactly what he said, all I know is I felt spellbound. I was totally taken in by him. Today, I even remember the feel of that pull of him on my soul. During that meeting, I would have given anything had he asked. I went home wondering how I could next meet him again.

However, when I woke up the next morning, I “woke up.” Holy crap! What did I almost just do? Wow, that incident scared the living daylights out of me! Thankfully, that self-protection part within me saved me before I did anything totally stupid. Thankfully, I’d been far enough back in the audience that I didn’t do something I’d regret. This was a huge wakeup call on how easy a charismatic person can sucker people in. It put me on guard, for sure, and really started my understanding in how/why this happens.

This showed me how easily people can fall under someone else’s influence. It also reminded me of years earlier when a few kids in my high school had fallen under The Moonies spell. They ran away from home and surrendered all they had to the current leader.

There was one more incident a few years later when I was studying Healing Tao. I was sitting in an upper balcony listening to the master speak to hundreds. He held his palms up to the audience and I felt an overwhelming presence wash over me. I felt I was being invaded and immediately heightened my protections. It slid past me.

Again, here was an interesting, engaging person talking about healing and teaching, but there was something… I don’t think it was sinister, but it felt wrong, like he was trying to hypnotize us. I refused!

Yes, I had periods throughout my life when I was involved with a couple of churches. There is so much of it that’s appealing – the camaraderie, the hymns, the promises of salvations, etc.… but again, I had some of those same feelings of wrong… (I could say more, but that’s just my opinion.)

I wish I could describe this all better to help others become aware of this type of thing – because it happens all the time. People fall for charismatic leaders/speakers, become sheep-followers and lose themselves – until it’s too late and they’re prisoners (in some form or another). And this is something history has proven over and over – only no one ever talks about it. The bottom line is it’s all about greed and control.

Look at Mussolini, Hitler, and Stalin… priests, gurus, cult leaders… they all make the so-pretty promises of salvation and saving their followers… after the people are filled with fear, hunger, and loss of their normal way of life and are desperate for someone to save them. But these leaders are all just greedy, controlling humans who take advantage of everyone who falls under their lies and deceits. When they get what they want, the hammer comes down and people’s freedoms are lost. The only ones free are the super-rich leaders and their close followers.

On Sadness Part 1

I want to talk about the sadness – not for someone to “save” me or tell me what to do or insist I “ask for help” (yeah, like I’d ever call some organization and ask for help from a stranger; I’d rather die) – but just to be able to talk about what I’m experiencing.

I’ve been incredibly sad for quite a while now. Tears fall at least three-four days a week. It’s from a myriad of things/reasons from what’s going on in the country and world to the challenges life is presenting and more. (It’s one thing to deal with the issues that come up naturally, but those I believe to be totally unnecessary and dictated by those wanting to control the masses are what really drive me into a hole. I feel there is no hope for the U.S. and its citizens.)

Oh, I know. Everyone has reasons and are quick to tell others what to think and do… and they have a right to their beliefs. I’m just so tired of it all! I’m tired of town/government taking more and more. I’m tired of escalating prices while big corporations and the wealthy get even richer. I’m tired of all the fundraising/begging. (I know, there are a lot of needy out there, but when does it stop? It doesn’t lessen but escalates and there are fundraisers nowadays for everything.) (And I know, there are no real answers on how to solve the problems.)

I’m tired of all the surveys wanting to know my opinion when I know they don’t really give a shit. I’m tired of things always seeming to go wrong (that’s not totally true but sometimes it feels that way.) I’m tired of having products shoved in my face. I’m tired of not being able to trust anything anymore… now that I’ve become more aware of the lies and deceits (and seeing similar situations from history of what has happened throughout the ages.)

I’m tired of being afraid to speak my truth for fear of being slammed. (I have a right to my opinions, but it seems that these days only certain views are allowed to be expressed publicly.) I’m tired of being asked to join all kinds of groups, clubs, and even businesses requiring you to be a member to receive benefits. (What do they do, jack up their prices to everyone else?) And then there are the “sign on” lower rates to get your business, then in two years, the prices escalate and escalate. (I was once told by one of the installers that you just have to keep changing back and forth between companies every time your “trial” period runs out.)

I’m tired of having to do everything myself. There are other things I want to be doing. I don’t mind DIY for some things, but I miss the days when repairmen would come and fix something. And, it seems, it all takes twice as long to get things done.

I’m sad because my goal of setting myself up to be able to kind of “coast” through my last years has failed and I’m scared for the future. How many more Americans are going to end up homeless? Will I?

Yeah, there are “benefits” for older people but finding your way through all the automated technology to get that help is daunting. I become a raving lunatic before I can get to a real person… and then I can’t get answers. I’ve been told I need to call someone else, or the person you finally get to is in some other part of the country (if in this country at all) and they don’t cover this area. (I’ve decided to REFUSE to talk to and listen to MACHINES!)

Or they have such a heavy accent and talk so fast, I can’t get what they’re saying. (I don’t have a problem with accents except over the phone – and being older, I swear it takes my brain longer to be able to decipher what they’re saying.)

Another issue which adds to the sadness is I don’t want to be out in public anymore. I don’t want to go to events, be around people. I don’t want to be with anyone I can’t speak freely around. I don’t want to pussyfoot around topics. I don’t want to feel looked down on if I don’t agree with them.

Oh, when I do go out, I put on the happy, friendly act and take time to compliment people, speak kindly and all that. It’s not really an act. It’s how I want to be – friendly, compassionate, and courteous. Even those I don’t care for, those who say things I don’t like; I won’t confront them. They’re allowed to think for themselves as is I. I just won’t want to be with them again.

I’ve been called selfish. In some ways, I am. It’s just at this stage of my game, I am unwilling to deal with disrespect. It seems respect has become a word from the past replaced with all these new terms that sound pretty and well-intentioned, but in reality, are words used to cover up what’s really going on. (My opinion.)

Questioning my Past

I’ve been sitting on an email without responding for a couple of days not knowing how to think, really. I’m not quite sure if there was a slight dig; to remind me of my faults which she’d gone into at length in January 2021. I always felt I was the one to give way and do what others wanted, but now I’m wondering… whose reality is true…

I suppose each of our realities is true to our individual selves. Being individual means we see differently on many things. Even if we’re in agreement, that doesn’t mean we see the situation the same way. We are not sheep. We don’t have the same brains. We have the ability to think for ourselves, our reasoning can take different avenues, past situations and upbringing play a part, etc.

I remember chuckling over my mum and aunt arguing when relating an event with each having a different spin even though they experienced it together at the same time. That’s when it hit me: We can go through the same event at the same time, and not have the same experience emotionally.

I’ve found that to be true in other instances. I’m now doubting my memories and the feelings I grew up with. I always felt I was the one who had to always fight to be heard, to be part of, and yet, I seldom felt accepted… because there was always that odd duck, lone wolf part of me. I never felt anyone truly liked me. I was unwilling to get on the latest fad bandwagons with clothes, music, etc. I wasn’t a girly-girl.

And now I’m wondering if I came on too strong with some things. Was I so unhappy I became unreasonable in insisting to do things my way when I got the chance? That because social life at school was so miserable for me, I went overboard on my home turf? Was I the one who instigated some things on the bus? Was I the one who set up ball games (we’d use jackets and stuff for bases?) Was it me who dictated the skating ponds in winter, where we rode our bikes, being out in the woods?

Those were the neighborhood/yard things. Maybe I was overbearing (is that the right word?) at home because it was the total opposite at school. At school, I was ridiculed, teased, tormented, and mentally beat down. So, on my home turf, I fought to be the leader… though I never saw myself a leader.

None of the few kids in my neighborhood who I hung out with were in any of my classes. This meant I was more comfortable around them whereas in school, I was the outcast. I was the girl from the wrong side of town (though in our town, there really wasn’t a “wrong” side, it was just our end was farther away from Exeter.) I didn’t wear the fancy clothes nor was I interested in dolls or girly things. (I always felt the boys had more fun things to do.)

There’s so much I don’t understand of why things were the way they were. I really don’t know why I felt no one liked me. Throughout the years, I’ve tried to figure it out. I don’t have answers, just lots of wonderings. I don’t know why I always felt defensive… because that’s not really me… or is it.  I dunno and I’m not sure where I’m going with this.

Perhaps I am/have been all those things I’ve been accused me of. I especially feel so nowadays. And I do have a lot of guilt because I’ve pulled back from a lot of socializing… even with family… and I can’t even describe how much that hurts… but I just can’t…  

I feel I have to stand up for myself and stand strong in who I am. I don’t feel I did that in my younger years… or I wasn’t successful at it. I feel most of my life was a struggle to be someone likeable when inside I was miserable because I was not being my true self. I swear, it feels most my younger life was spent in tears. (These days I still cry a lot, too, but these tears are for different reasons.)

The times I did try to stand up for myself, I was beat down. All of that has made me who I am today. I am not a head-to-head fighter. I am not willing to argue my point. These days, I stand stronger in my beliefs, though I still crawl off into a corner when someone slams me.

I am not a “save-the-world do-gooder.” And I don’t want to be. We don’t all have to be the same!

But this doesn’t mean I’m a bad person… even though I feel I am in others’ eyes. And I am not going to return the fault-finding. I’ve always believed that just makes a situation more volatile.

To live whole-heartedly, to me, is to take time to honor myself. It’s trying to be a good person and holding to my truths. It’s respecting other people may have different opinions. And it’s about setting some boundaries and being careful what I allow to affect me. It’s not a perfect world. We are not a perfect people. I do the best I can for my well-being and sanity.

First Show with the Pastel Society of New Hampshire

I joined the Pastel Society of New Hampshire (PSNH) last year and my first attempt at submitting to a show was not accepted. This year, I decided to give it another try and both paintings were accepted for the 17^th Annual Members’ Show held this month (July 2022) at the Wolfeboro Library.

It’s always nerve-wracking submitting work to be exhibited for all to see and critique. I work hard and love my paintings. But will others? Is it good enough? Will other artists see my work as professional? (Can they tell I’ve not had much traditional art training? That I’m mostly self-taught?) Will they fault me for not always following art rules and instead finding my own way? (I have to be me, though, and follow my own path.)

Not only is there opportunity to sell my paintings in this show, but there will also be an awards ceremony with $1,600 in cash and merchandise to be given on the last day, July 30. Do I dare hope for an award and recognition? Am I jinxing myself for mentioning it?

For the two weeks leading up to delivery day (my 68^th birthday), I was a nervous wreck. The drive would take about 1 ½ hours on a holiday weekend which meant the traffic would probably be crazy. (These days I don’t go far at all. It’s an effort to get me out of the house!) I studied Google Maps for the easiest route – and it was an easy route.

I arrived a half hour early expecting to hang around waiting, but they were already set up to receive and others were hanging the paintings. What a joy to meet other artists, see their work, and discover a little about some of these people I’ve only seen as names on a list.

Theses little interactions bring me much joy. I love hearing what others work with and hear a little about their techniques. It’s interesting to see how we can differ in styles, technique and some supplies. For instance, I prefer smooth BFK Rives paper while many other use pastel board or various other textured papers or even wood.

And we may all work with pastels, but there are many types and brands, and even the way the pastel is applied can be different. There are sponges, cotton balls, tortillons, and other tools beside pastel pencils and sticks. There are oil pastels, but in the soft pastel world, you find hard pastels, medium pastels, and soft, buttery pastels.

Some artists make small marks creating texture and movement with the pastels. Some are very impressionistic and with that, there are degrees of what I often call blur, but is actually called lost and found (soft and hard) edges. I prefer a smoother, sharper, realistic, vibrant look. I am always amazed how other artists can achieve crisp, clean lines with pastel.

How artists prepare to start their work differs, too. Some do what they call thumbnail sketches, doing smaller, quick drawings to decide exactly how they want their layout and composition to look on a bigger scale. (I do mine in a 5 x 8 ½ sketch book.) They might choose their colors ahead of the actual painting. Some prepare their support (paper, panel, board, etc.) with gesso or other elements to create texture. Others do alcohol washes over some initial background blocked-in colors. Others, like me, do the beginning sketching with charcoal.

Then there’s the controversy in the end of whether or not to spray the painting with a fixative. There are pros and cons to doing so. Some are totally against spraying while others prefer it. I do to try to keep pastel dust off the mat.

One of my favorite discussions is matting. Some artists don’t use a mat, some use single mats and others double mats. When I started out, I would choose mat colors to go with a color in my paintings. (For me, it’s all about the color.) But then I kept hearing some galleries will only accept paintings matted in white, so I compromised by doing the main mat in arctic white over a black mat with a white bevel. This gives a framed within a frame look which I like a lot.

However, I have doubts in seeing a lot of my paintings matted and framed the same. While the white mats pull all the paintings together as a whole, sometimes the whiteness is too stark and I’m not sure the white enhances the paintings.

This is when discussions become interesting. When we can be free to talk about what we like as individual artists in how we work. Discussion opens the possibility to learn and share. I am never interested in copying someone else’s work, but I believe in the sharing, the camaraderie grows stronger and we get to appreciate one another’s work.