I read something a long time ago (I’m sorry I can’t remember the book or its author to give due credit) that I have carried with me ever since. It was the idea that we all have a tendency to get in our own way. This, of course, can be true throughout all aspects of our lives and I certainly know something about that. But I have put special emphasis on being aware of it in my painting life. I’ve always felt my very best work was made when I was able to get out of my own way (it’s the perfect way of saying it)–whether by getting out of my head in order to connect with that divine force that wants to create (I believe) with all of us, or balancing a commitment to the easel with the equally important need of time and space (see previous post Giving Art Room to Breathe).
Recently, Kim (see previous post A Very Mini Artist’s Colony in New Mexico) and I started tinkering in the yard, using the lovely rock that dots my land to define a kind of sitting area on the edge of the land grant, under and among some old junipers.
In the past I simply wouldn’t have allowed myself to do such a thing because it would mean cutting into my painting time and, thus, I’d think it was a waste of valuable time. But you know what? I’m painting MORE since I’ve been out there moving rocks around in the yard. It seems to energize me and feed my painting in fact. And it’s absolutely influencing my art in important ways. Can you see it here?
And here…
… and here…
… and here…
… and yet again here…
I think the new paintings are working because, in part, I am getting out of my own way, meaning I’m following my impulses, without judgement. I’m going wherever they take me.
In fact I think this new outdoor project is infusing my work with a new-found sense of joy. As I move “mountains” around on my land, I am grounded and finding a much-needed sense of relaxed trust in the process of life. And this new calm helps me to follow my impulses, no matter how wild. This piece titled, Red Willow, was born of utter abandon.
Every day this quiet place we’re creating becomes more beautiful …
… and every day I paint…
… finding belief and confidence there.
And then I take these paintings to their gallery home, Hand Artes Gallery, here in Truchas, where Bill and Margaret Franke always welcome them with open arms and a reverence that soothes my artist soul…
But what is my larger message here?
I think it is this: Follow your impulses as much as you are able because they are indicating some truth for you, some path, some next step. Be still sometimes within your busy lives so you can hear them. And always, always follow, even when it’s hard, even in your corporate jobs, even with a house full of small children. Somehow, someway, listen to what is speaking to you from deep within and do that thing your soul asks of you, whether it’s making rock gardens and paintings, raising children, or following a corporate path… our dreams and desires are as individual as we are and it is up to each one of us to discover and honor, as best we can, ours.
And then get out of our own way.
Love to you all,
Jeane
Your message is lovely in it’s simplicity:) Bravo to your nurturing your space of repose, and it’s space of peaceful mind bringing you access to your painting inspiration! I am so happy you and Kim get to play in the dirt and rocks together…
xoxox
I continue to need to consciously maintain my space. I can clutch up when I think about certain distractions that keep vying for my time. But it is the simple, quiet, joyful times of nothingness that nurture me and then my work. And, yes, playing in the dirt and rocks with Kim. Now THAT’S soul-fulfilling for sure!
Thank you, Jeane … thank you so very much for your timely wise words, and your willingness to share.
—jeff.
I’m so glad, Jeff, that something in this piece resonated with you. Thanks for letting me know.
Are you over the painful shingles? It looks like you have taken life back in your hands and appreciated all of it even more, taking the necessary turns, making the necessary decisions, doing the work. If so, wonderful for you. Just wonderful.
Unfortunately, Sherry, no. I’m afraid I have nerve damage from the protracted virus and am dealing with post shingles pain. BUT, I’m not going to let this thing define me. So I AM taking my life back into my hands and will find my path to fully healing. Painting will go a long way toward helping me do that. And, yes, I am appreciating everything more, even the illness, because it is pointing me to the changes I need to be making. You are very perceptive. Thank you for the lovely vote of confidence!
Oh Dear. Well I have also suffered chronic pain and Illness and I see now that this is exactly what is now talking me along a new path. We are packing and moving to a warmer and drier climate, which will make all the difference in my life span, and my comfort. I think I will be able to finish the many enthusiastic starts of creative projects I have wanted to, but couldn’t complete. You have influenced me in this, be assured, and I appreciate it.
I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with chronic pain and illness but am so glad you’re choosing to make a huge change that will help you live more healthfully, comfortably, and creatively. That you feel I’ve influenced your decision touches me more than I can say. Thank you for letting me know. Best of luck with the move and the transition. May you be well.
Couldn’t agree more, Jeane! I have learned that I get in my own way all the time. It has taken years but I have managed to stop trying to do “everything” thus spreading my efforts thinly. Part of this is the aging process, since we can’t do what we could easily accomplish earlier in life. Part is changing needs and interests, such as my grandchildren! It is our own reality and responsibility! Having known each other since sixth grade and labeling you as my choice for “Renaissance Woman” of all time, I applaud this blog and appreciate that you are freeing yourself from the huge demands you’ve placed upon yourself! Touching the earth and “mountains” on the land, plus creating your outdoor space is wonderful. I recently created a fire circle on my land that had been solid blackberry bushes and I almost feel invincible! Keep up the fabulous painting process, friend, and hey to Kim. Hope all is well with the critters!
I can SEE you in your wonderful garden, tucked into your gorgeous Oregon woods. You’ve been creating a paradise there for decades. Painting is feeling incredible and I’m so happy it is, once again, my focus. The critters are great. I did tell you that Big Girl passed away didn’t I? As she did everything in her 21 years of life: elegantly and simply, curled in her kitty bed by a warm fire.
I didn’t know about Big Girl. Big sigh! She always did love her kitty bed. I imagine you have buried her by Little Girl. You were very lucky to have each other. Good bye Big Girl….
I actually finally took Little Girl from her cairn in the kitty enclosure and buried the girls together in a beautiful spot under the junipers, looking out across the canyon, very near to our table and rock garden. You can see their beautiful grave from there. Soon I’ll scatter Roy and Savannah’s ashes with the girls. I thought they’d like that but I haven’t been able to part with them yet.
Renaissance Woman! Correct.
Here is a comment from a reader (and good friend) that she couldn’t get posted. I think most of us have experienced the glitches in the Disqus commenting system. But she is always so perceptive, (and so supportive), that I wanted to post her lovely comment. Here it is:
“The land has always been a part of you, Jeane. But in these paintings I see a strong sense of integration. This seems to me to extend beyond color and design to reflect spiritual, physical, and emotional elements in a new harmony that suggests a new way of BEING in the world. The essence of that as we see it here in these beautiful images tells a story, not just of transcendence, commitment, and strength, but of a new sense of life, joy, and–dare I say it–peace.”
And, yes, dear friend, I think I can safely say that peace is becoming a new character in my life. Long in coming and still in process, but it is there all the same. And, yes also, a somewhat fragile new way of being rising within, showing itself in the new life “blossoming” on the land, in my work–and joy–definitely the edges of joy. Thank you for seeing and expressing all of it so beautifully.
May I just say that when I had trouble posting (which was nearly each time) I found that I needed to sign into Discus each time, even when I told it to remember me. Now I haven’t had problems posting.
Thanks, Joy. I think my friend would like to post not going through Disqus, but I guess there is no other way? I can’t see what you all do because my computers recognize me as High Road Artist and I get an entirely different screen.
Jeane, you and your furry friends please stay safe with this Jaroso wildfire. I hear a Type 1 crew is coming in tomorrow morning to start building fire lines and clearing out fuel in your direction. I’m 11 miles up the road from you and the smoke has been…interesting. Last week I started a painting of the mountains that had yellow sky. Now I know why…. Take care, all of you.
Thank you so much for your supportive thoughts. It did get rather scary there for a few days, watching the flames burn over the ridge heading toward us. As you know I have several still rather feral animals so evacuating could be a challenge. But it made me think of how I might do it and I’m bringing in the few things I’ll need. As you know, the smoke has cleared and we’re hoping the bit of rain and promised rain will help all the fires.
I’m chiming in late but I would like to encourage you to please have an evacuation plan A and B and be ready. I feel so sad for folks who have to worry about their animals and things of value because they weren’t prepared. I wouldn’t hesitate to have a community meeting because in your little community you could make a plan that wouldn’t leave anybody behind.