hattuni putosi joelle

I keep telling you that the words and the pictures come from the same place. That is really true. The process is also the same. It’s like driving a car. Sometimes I am going to the store to buy bread. Because I’ve run out of bread, and I need more bread. Other times, a friend and I will get in the car and go for a drive. We don’t have a particular destination in mind. We just go out and see what we come across. I usually bring my camera and am often surprised at the photos that come out.

There are times when I pick up the pen because I need to complete a particular assignment. A school paper, a cover letter, a home study questionnaire, a nursing note. I pretty much know in advance what I am going to write. Other times, I pick up the pen and just start writing. When it is done, I am often surprised at what came out.

Sometimes I pick up the paint brush and say I am going to paint this tree. Or I have an idea to paint a lake scape where the clouds look like cats. I have a picture in my mind of what the painting will look like.

Other times, I just grab a color and start painting. I choose another color, and another, building up layers of paint. I just play like that for a while, with no expectation. Sometimes I am really surprised by what comes out.

That kind of exploration… That kind of play is where I discover new techniques and ideas. If I think they are successful, I incorporate them into my more deliberate painting practice.

I’m not always running errands. Sometimes I find a puddle and just splash in it for a while.

Sinulla ei ole mitään vikaa

Punishment never worked on me. I was punished by many people over the decades of my childhood. Misinformed people who thought they were doing good in their self-righteousness when they were actually damaging children like me. I don’t have warm or happy thoughts about the army of disciplinarians in my past. They were not my friends.

I don’t remember much nurturing outside of the home. School was a place where I had to be on guard. I knew I wasn’t good enough to please any teachers or school administrators, so I just went into survival mode, and waited for the last bell that would set me free for the evening.

At church, I was judged and warned. I was constantly told I was not good enough and had to change. I had to keep a list of my failures and my faults, so that I could beg for forgiveness later. I was taught not to feel good about myself, and that all the people outside of the church were on their way to hell and wanted to take me with them. I learned those lessons well.

But I was also able to unlearn them.

People comment on the fact that I am friends with my kids. I think that is a wonderful thing. I’ve heard people say your kids don’t need you to be a friend. They need you to be a parent. To discipline them and set limits for them.

You can be both a parent and a friend. They don’t need to fear you to learn from you. You don’t have to be serious or stoic all the time. You can protect, provide and teach your kids and enjoy them at the same time! You can play and love and teach them to express all of their emotions by recognizing and accepting all of yours.

Older people are not better than younger people. They’re not smarter. They don’t know everything. Anyone and everyone can be your teacher. No matter who you are. No matter how powerful or respected you think you are.

Everyone is different, so everyone has something to teach you.

Learning disability? That’s not a fault. Not a fault of yours, anyway. I call them teaching disabilities. There is nothing wrong with you. Mental challenges? We all have those. Behavioral problems? That’s communication. There is nothing wrong with you.

There is nothing wrong with you.

There is nothing wrong with you.

laskuvesi

acrylic on canvas

detail

vaikea helppo

As a little kid, I was drawn to abstract art on my first trip to the DIA. By the time I was in art school (next to the DIA), I was frustrated at my inability to produce abstract art. Later, I was envious of people who could create it.

All I really needed to do was to give myself permission. It really was that difficult easy. Seriously. It was easy difficult.

It wasn’t that I had to find something, it was in letting go of something.

I had the idea that art was supposed to look like something. The more a drawing or painting looked like the real thing, the more realistic or photographic it was, the better it was.

I thought that if I didn’t reference something tangible, people would wonder whether I could draw… or think that I couldn’t draw.

And yet I admired abstract images and wanted to make them.

I have a friend who is a singer/songwriter. She would sing songs by James Taylor, The Indigo Girls, etc. in coffee shops or restaurants, and people loved it.

Sometimes she would go to a more alternative club and perform more alternative, edgy music. I don’t know the actual words to describe it. She told me she did the coffee shop stuff to make money, and the darker, more raw stuff for herself.

That’s kind of what it’s like for me. I do like to do paintings of trees and animals, and people like to see them. But I do the abstracts for me. Those are journeys into color, shapes and textures that are expressions of feelings… nonverbal things. They are not bound by rules of perspective, shading or other components that may make a painting of an object right or wrong.

I’m not so unique, as I have said. So those more personal expressions will probably strike a chord in someone else.

Someone recently looked at one of my new abstract paintings and asked “am I supposed to see something here?”

I answered, “you’re supposed to see paint.”

A lot of people compare paintings to music. I agree. Paintings and music come from the same creative impulse within us. To me, abstract art is like instrumental music. It conveys feelings… emotions without spelling out the whole story for you. Representational paintings (of landscapes, people, objects from the physical world) are more like songs with lyrics.

The natural world is full of abstract images. In fact, everything in the world was an abstract form until we attached labels to it. Not only the way the reflection of the sky is distorted by the moving surface of water. Not only the concentric lines in an agate, or the shifting shapes of clouds. But a flower… Those brushes of color are like little pieces of abstract art.

hetkiä

So I have often said that being you is all you need to be a true artist. We have all experienced things, seen things, and felt things. Do you have the ability to hold a paintbrush or other tool for applying paint? Can you apply it with your hands or feet? If so, you have the ability to paint. You don’t have to record the image of an object, a landscape, or a recognizable portrait. There is nothing wrong with that, of course, but there is also nothing wrong with recognizing what color or shape represents how you feel. A color or texture might look beautiful to you. It might conjure up a feeling that is not beautiful, but it might be a way of telling your story without words. Or the painting you make may help you find the words to your story. There is no “correct answer” when it comes to expressing yourself.

How many moments have linked together to make us who we are today. Your story is different than mine, but that doesn’t make either of them right or wrong.

And we survived difficult times. We got through things we might have thought were impossible. We also saw beautiful things. We laughed and we cried as we traveled the ups and downs of our lives.

We call some moments good and we call some bad, but they are all a part of us. They make us who we are, and they have brought us to this moment.

Now the timeline of my life brought me to you, and the path of your life has brought you to me.

details:

One year can make a huge difference in your life. One year ago today I stopped smiling and laughing for a while. I made a mistake small. But mistakes can be put right again. You can learn from them and make your life better than it was before.

Things don’t always turn out the way you thought they would. Some plans look good on paper. I think I focused too much on what I thought I would gain, and not on what I would lose.

THANK GOD I am home now. Sinking my roots deeper and deeper in.

I imagine there are people who don’t know where they belong. They don’t have a permanent home. Not me.

How fortunate am I?