This summer an artist friend and I enrolled in a class. It was clear realistic elements would be involved; however, without seeing a syllabus, it was hard to know the direction of the class. As my artistic bent is the opposite of realism, I felt somewhat leery. The first session was introductory and, as such, relatively benign. The 2nd one was a different story as there were 2 live models, one of which we were supposed to paint. Not only is a live model situation a specialty in itself but painting is in a league requiring expertise way beyond even sketching or drawing. I definitely felt utterly confused, constricted, frustrated and fearful of putting paint to canvas. With the teacher’s tips/help, this is what I ended up with on an 11 x 24 inch canvas. There is no question that I gave the male model a whole different face. I named it “The Dude.”
Sunday
This morning my doorbell rang unexpectedly. After quickly checking the state of my hair and donning another longer layer, I opened the door. My neighbor had locked himself out of his unit and asked if he could use my phone to call a locksmith. After frantically explaining how he grabbed the wrong set of keys and had never ever locked himself out of any of his places, he then apologized profusely for interrupting my day. With complete empathy, I calmly said I was happy to help and it happens to everyone. I added that it was just an “Oops” and, citing unintended consequences of one’s actions, posed the question, “How do you think my Oops’ paintings got started?” He chuckled and said he’d have to buy one of my paintings. I just smiled knowing, still in shock, that it was probably too early to embrace as a segue to levity.
And so, appropriately, a new one:
Acupuncture Treatments
Last week my pulses were depressed, meaning low energy. Every now and again I watch too much of the national news and, without knowing it, slide into and get stuck in the concept of outer oppression. My thoughts and emotions can then spiral downward and I focus on what isn’t right and what I feel frustrated with like my loft, seemingly small life, etc. Usually at some point I catch myself, know this is momentary, and remember the book What To Say When You Talk To Your Self and my Buddhist friend’s teachings on the discipline/practice of changing mental habits for well-being. In an instant, a negative thought can be turned into a positive one and suffering is alleviated. This time, I wallowed too long in constriction. After the treatment, I felt more grounded.
Seven days later I go back on Labor Day for part 2 of the treatment. My acupuncturist asked how I was doing followed by a comment that I still seemed “flat.” I told him the song that perfectly described how I felt was “In My Blood” by Shawn Mendes. To my great surprise, he jumps up, gets his I-Pad, downloads and plays the song while I’m laying on the table and proceeds to take my pulses.
Without a doubt, this was the coolest session I’ve ever had in the 20+ years he’s been treating me. To have music playing in the background in and of itself was healing, and I loved bonding through tone/melody. He loves music too so that adds to the match. He sent me on my way thrilled that my pulses were back to normal and knowing I would feel renewed. He also reminded me to paint my frustrations; hence, “Lassoed Oops.”
New Painting
Ooh, this looks like I lassoed the OOPS. Guess I got the name. Lol! Anyway, it’s important now to advance and experiment on larger canvases. Although a tad daunting and complicated at certain junctures given frustration over limited space and other issues, feeling creatively constricted, and using too much acrylic that necessitated scraping excess onto another canvas, I did enjoy completing this 30 x 40 inch piece with a favorite theme.
Physicians' Visits/Accuracy
Six months ago I saw a new internist for a physical. As is typical, the assistant brought me into a room, then immediately and politely instructed me to get on the scale. Now, I had heavy shoes on, roughly 3 pounds each, heavy jeans and layered tops. I asked if she would deduct a certain amount for clothes and she said no as it really didn’t matter. Later, after the fact, I thought about this. Really? Doesn’t matter? Well, then why even enter a number on the chart? And, if the number entered is incorrect then, conceivably, couldn’t and shouldn’t that influence a future prescription dosage? On further reflection of my medical history, it’s been almost non-existent that a physician acknowledged my petiteness and dispensed dosages accordingly. Usually, the focus has been on “industry standards.” However, rarely does one size fits all for anything work for me.
Last week I had my yearly gyn appointment. Not surprising, I experienced the same, initial protocol with another medical assistant. However, this time, I requested that she let me remove my clothes and weigh me only with the robe on. With her affirmative response, mission accomplished.
Playful Mood
A few nights ago, I painted this on claybord. Not sure if it’s finished as I have a faint desire to add another color or two to make it pop. Typical of my work, there can be different orientations.
Art Advancement
Consultation #3 went well also. The guy was super positive, complimentary of my work and actually gave me a referral of someone else who would be more appropriate per his “spirit of abundance.” Love that phrase as it’s my guide also.
Art Advancement - Continued
I feel happy that consultation #2 with a different art advisor went very well. We spoke about all sorts of possibilities and details of how his services could enhance my career. Inspired and confident, I think I’ve found my match. Certainly, more to be revealed as I proceed.
Oops
On the heels of unsuccessful art consultation #1, it’s time for another Oops painting. Although this newest piece isn’t necessarily my favorite, I feel inclined to leave it as is rather than rework or add to it. Besides, the background has that “Jackson Pollack” thing going on which is perfect in context of the previously mentioned jab.
Art Advancement - Continued
Another appropriate quote by Julia Cameron in The Artist Way is, “We cannot make our professional critics more healthy or more loving or more constructive than they are. But we can learn to comfort our artist child over unfair criticism.; we can learn to find friends with whom we can safely vent our pain. We can learn not to deny and stuff our feelings when we have been artistically savaged.”