Tag Archives: Book of Ephesians

True Colours

P1000842

“Scaffolding” 24″ x 24″ Acrylic on Gallery Canvas

 

Once in a while we are called upon to show our true colours. Such was the case as I considered which gallery to visit this week. A séance would be held at The Gordon Smith Gallery. I wanted to go to pray there for the protection of the attendees.

In preparation for the visit I pray before I go. I will pray there as I view the art. I will pray after the visit.

I view the invitation to the Séance for this evening. My first inclination was to steer clear of this event. Now I feel a need to see the show today before the event in question and then pray at home in the evening. This is unusual for me – to pray on location at a gallery.  Here is what I read:

Please join us for a meditative seance with Marcel Duchamp!

The Smith Gallery will host ‘An Evening With Marcel Duchamp’, comprised of audio recordings of a range of talks Duchamp gave during his lifetime.  

In the darkened confines of our ‘Process Gallery’ Duchamp will discuss his art, life & the readymades that made him famous – some 48 years after his death in 1968.  

This exploration of Duchamp in his own words lasts approximately 45 minutes.

I must add that I do not promote the event but consider this an uninvitation! Or perhaps an invitation for added prayer for protection those who will attend.

Link to Duchamp who changed forever how we think about art:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcel_Duchamp

Epilogue:

I went, I saw, I prayed, and enjoyed the show very much. Gordon Smith was well represented by a 4-foot white painted tree root. Douglas Coupland’s multi-coloured thread spools bring awe again to the everyday object(s). The evening event, with its low key invitation, seemed to be a harking back to remembering rather than practicing any dark spirituality – but I do not know. I was not there. As a former mentor said, chew the meat and throw out the bones. We pick and choose what we want to be involved in.  We build and show the colours of the scaffolding of our inner lives also by what we support or decline.

“Our struggle is not against flesh and blood…” 

Book of Ephesians

Christmas Birthday Roses

Christmas Birthday Roses

“Yellow Roses” DS 2015

Mother’s birthday was on Christmas Day. She would have just turned 90 this year – about the same age as the queen. She has been gone a decade now but I will see her again one day. I felt impressed to buy some yellow roses in her honour this year to have at Christmas.

She too was a painter and a poet – a pioneer of sorts. Her favourite flowers were always yellow roses (yet in her old age she changed them to pink). Her own painting of yellow roses and blue delphiniums can be seen in the foyer of the spa at the historic Algonquin Hotel in St. Andrews-by-the-Sea, N.B. where she worked as a young woman after the war. The painting was donated to the hotel in her honour as one of New Brunswick’s own daughters.

Mother was one who loved God. She loved life, and children, and painting – probably in that order. In one’s ancestral tree there are particular people who shine. Their love blesses all who come after them. Mother is one of those whose children and grandchildren rise up and call her blessed (Book of Proverbs).

“Honor your father and mother” is the first commandment that has a promise attached to it, namely, “so you will live well and have a long life.” (Book of Ephesians)

This poem of Ann Weems reminds me of my childhood:

Giving

I gave my mother Evening in Paris

Sixty-five cents at the five-and-dime,

a Christmas Special.

Everybody knew – in the second grade –

that ladies longed for perfume.

I wanted to give her something special …

no Christmas chocolates she’d share with others,

no crayoned creation to hang in the kitchen,

no photo of me with a snuggle-tooth grin,

but a gift that no one else would use,

a present just for my mother.

I wrapped it in tissue

adorned with red reindeer

and wrote “I LOVE YOU!”

and signed it in cursive.

I thought it was the grandest gift anybody could give.

She thought so, too.

 

Excerpts from a Paint-Spattered Journal

NYC Journal at the Waterfront

NYC Journal at the Waterfront DS

Wednesday July 1, 2015

My plan is forming as I take an early morning walk at the waterfront. Painting at the waterfront takes a lot of stamina and a different kind of creativity that can be interrupted with questions. I take steps to be ready for Saturday when I will paint for the first time this year. I have chosen my spot and made a list of the size of canvas and brushes, paint tubes etc. I will need. I will do a little prep each day and leave early Saturday so I can get parking. I know that when I am there painting and looking up at the waves and people, the words always come to me: “This is what I was born for. I am being the real me”.

Monday July 6, 2015

I went painting Saturday after much indecision and inner dialogue (why bother you can paint more easily in the studio). The day was perfect – sunny and windy. I arrived early to get parking close to the lawn. I slowly unpacked the car then sat and wrote in my journal. I got my paints and brushes out, and then I rested with my thoughts.

The results of the day were that several people came to admire my work and to engage me in conversations about inspiration and exhibitions etc. I was able to begin a painting that I really like. I usually paint in layers so I can work on it over the next few times I go there. I hope to go once a week for 3 hours but with this smoke from wildfires near the city I am wearing a mask outside so it may not work out. Anyway, I am so happy I made the effort. Painting in the studio – great. Painting at the waterfront – priceless.

Tuesday July 7, 2015

The act of painting is very physical for me but much of the work is visual and art history research. When I am ready I lay another layer of paint on the canvas. This week I am hibernating because of the smoke. I keep my painting where I can see it every day so when I get ideas for the next step I am ready ahead of time.

I hope to paint at the waterfront once a week over the summer. I do not go on the crowded days. Next time, in order to lower the impact on my body I will take fewer supplies to carry.

Saturday August 8, 2015

The artists arrive one by one jostling for space in the shade. Some have the requisite red umbrellas, although most have bitten the dust seasons ago. The painters of the “Painters Landing” program are each permitted 12 feet of space. Some take more, some less. It is 9:30 A.M. on a Saturday morning.

I have honed down what I bring to essentials: 2 easels, a chair, a small table, a paint box, a water jug, and a carry bag. I also bring a couple of small, framed paintings to exhibit on one easel and a blank canvas to work on for the other today. The printed brochures say we are: “demystifying the art-making process”.

After set-up which takes about 10 minutes now, I settle to record the view in my journal: 10 tankers, a sailboat, a tugboat, 3 fishing boats and a motorboat fill the scene. Sounds pierce the tranquil place: a yellow pile driver of magnificent proportions from the construction site in the next block, beloved seagulls call, and the snatched conversations of late joggers intermittently fill the air close by. The smell, of course, is of the sea.

Photos are next. I travel light.   Phone photos will do. A couple of umbrellas stuck into the sand ahead, one green and white, the other solid pink, are only the beginning of a day of colour. I have made it again here – for the sixth time now. I am instantly happy. This is my working holiday: my staycation. It is sunny with a slight breeze: perfect. The day will be good with or without sales.

Monday August 10, 2015

It must be seen as arrogance – this attitude of joy I have. One woman says to me: “I have to make sales. I am not a hobbyist”. A sharp retort comes to mind. Then, humbled, I pray for sales for all of us – especially for her who is alone. Perhaps I am arrogant in my freedom of other income streams. Admitted or not, sales are the main form of validation for the successful artist, the beginner, and for those of us who are perpetually ‘emerging’. So far this month, I am just salt in their midst.

I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” Book of Ephesians