Back From California

California... there really is no place like it. The amazing sun, ALL THE TIME and the traffic, ALL THE TIME. It was great to catch up with friends, lay in the sun and eat at my favorite places. One of which is Bob's Big Boy in Burbank. It's been around for ages and almost every time I go there I see "someone." My meal of choice is a pattymelt and french fries with ranch dressing and then to it with Bob under his hamburger.I also had lots of time on the flight to think about my future "job". I would love to just paint and make a living doing that. So, for the next couple of months I'm going to paint up a storm and just work as hard as I can and see what happens. I figure if I don't try it now, I may never give it a go. I met an artist here in St. Louis - MaryBeth Flynn and we spent the morning together last week. For the past 14 years she's been making her living painting watercolor house portraits. I was so encouraged to hear her story. She did let me know it was a great deal of hard work. For years I've been working two jobs - that of my day job and in my spare time, I'm painting. So, I think on some level it will be nice to just focus on the painting. So that's the plan. One step at a time, one day at a time.

Fertile Emptiness

"Crisis, change, all the myriad upheavals that blister the spirit and leave us groping - they aren't voices simply of pain but also of creativity. And if we would only listen, we might hear such times beckoning us to a season of waiting, to the place of fertile emptiness." - Sun Monk Kidd from When The Heart Waits

Waiting is not something I'm good at. Waiting has always seemed to be a huge waste of time. For Pete's sake, I'm an American. We don't have to wait for anything anymore. But now, I'm in a time of forced waiting. It's uncomfortable for me and a fearful place because I might fall behind, get passed up. Standing still is not normal, I'm always racing towards whatever I think I need to get to next. In an effort to embrace the waiting I'm re-reading When the Heart Waits. (Every creative person needs this book by the way) It's not easy to be still in heart, mind and body. I have found that sitting under a pink tree has been one place I can sit still. Right now, I do my best to be still, to just be, to breathe, and to not worry for just 30 seconds. Trust me try a pink tree - sit under one. Breathe. Be. Wait.

Winslow Homer in Chicago

I just got back from the Winslow Homer exhibit showing at The Art Institute of Chicago. What an amazing exhibit, well worth the $20. What an extensive watercolor show! He didn't start working in watercolors until he was 37 years old and after nearly 20 years of working as a professional artist - and, the best part of all, he was a self taught artist! His extensive work in watercolor had a great deal in making the watercolors an art form in and of itself and not just a precursor to an oil painting. His use of watercolor is confident and certain. But beyond that I'm blown away by his subject matter and how he uses color and light to create an emotional impact. This is one of my favorite watercolors...
After the exhibit and seeing such masterpieces, I wonder, do I dare dip my brush in paint again? How does one get to be that good? That confident? I want to be there now and not 20 years from now. Patience. Painting. Seeing. They're all important and maybe equally so.

Orange Ranunculus - All Day!

Ranunculus are back!!! And that always makes me happy until I paint them ... ALL DAY . Then they become pesky little buggers. Still it was good to have the time to work on something for more than an hour. I wasn't pleased with the oranges I was making (No I don't own a tube or orange paint - I mix my oranges). Finally I took a break from them and decided that that I needed to look at them with fresh eyes. The whole fresh eyes thing is essential. What really is happening is that you're looking at it with a fresh mind which is a less critical mind - a kinder, gentler mind. And you thought movie critics were tough - you should here the critic in my head! So here you have an afternoon of work... and I'll go at it again the next day. But don't worry I'll always love ranunculus.

Another Door Closes or Rather - SLAMS!

I was in Nebraska last week with my boss. The meeting went well. And as I'm driving my boss back to his car, I was informed that

"due to economic difficulties your position will be eliminated."

I can't see straight and here I am trying to navigate in the rain while tears of unbelief and shock run down my face and in my head is this stream of random thoughts.
... but I just moved to St. Louis for this position how will I pay my bills and the house I wanted to buy - this means NO HOUSE (more tears) I'm going to miss my flight back to St Louis in this rain (I have a 3 hour drive back to Omaha airport) stop crying just stop it now! I hate Nebraska you can paint but I'm not good enough yet - but I want my own house no house ... and around and around this tape plays
Perhaps it's time for me to delve in with all I have and take this artistic risk and do it , just do it .
I'm taking the week to NOT think about it. I will spend some time at the botanical gardens and paint and just try to take a break from work, travel and decision making to just BE Amy the artist, not the sales rep or the single gal or an unemployed person.

Sheep pictures always seem so peaceful to me. I've painted a handful and let very few go just because I like them. I set this one out so I can see it more and when my spirit gets fluttery and nervous I look at it. Yes, art can calm a worried heart.

A Closed Door

At the end of February, I entered a featured length film script in a screen writing contest. I just found out that I did not even place as a finalists. Being that there were only 25 entries in this local contest, I felt even more down than usual by this rejection. For Pete's sake, I studied and went to grad school for screen writing! After the disappointment wore off I needed to be honest with myself. I don't like script writing anymore. It's torture. I could paint everyday but working on a script doesn't bring about the same drive in me like painting does. For years I've been trying to figure out what was wrong with me.
Was writing really this hard for everyone, or just me?
Did I just get burned out from living around the Hollywood stuff for 5 years?
Why did I do well in school but not afterwards?
Was all that time and money for nothing?
No answers.
None
I just know that I don't want to write scripts anymore. Perhaps I'll tell theses stories in a narrative format at some point. I do love the stories and they won't let me go. I never tackled prose writing because I just never got very good grades in English class so I always thought I wasn't good at writing. It's funny what a high school letter grade makes you think about yourself and your abilities. Come to think about it, I only had one English teacher I really liked. She loved writing. The rest of the time, English was a chore. For now I've put away the scripts in a box - to be free from the pressure and the reminder of all that I've left unfinished... for now...
Guilt is never a good emotion, and the least useless in creating. You really can't be free if you're working on something out of guilt, because it then becomes all about the outcome and not the process, the struggle and what you learn. It's just finished and you feel relieved. Still this honest look at my time and my skills doesn't change the face that I secretly long to be a famous writer who knows how to manipulate words like I do paint and water.

"How we spend out days is, of course, how we spend our lives." - Annie Dillard

True - and this is what I did today..

Painting New York in Chicago

Yes, I have a day job and sometimes it's an all day job because I travel out of town about two weeks a month. At first this drove me crazy, because I felt like I was missing out on my "real" life. After a long day at a show, sitting in a hotel bed watching TV just left me even more drained than if I had ran a mile. So, I started bringing along my sketch book and travel watercolors on these trips. Even if I just copy pictures from magazines, I sleep better and don't feel so disconnected from my "other" life, my art life. So I brought along a photo I had taken in New York City near Central Park last fall a gorgeous turn of the century townhouse. (I want to live there.) I LOVE painting beautiful old architecture. I hoped to finish the picture while in Chicago - I mean I was going to be there for 5 days for Pete's sake. But just when you make plans, there are always interesting surprise. First, the weather proved to be much warmer than usual so I took a walk around the city, ate at some good restaurants, met some fun people and saw a green river - dyed for St. Patrick's Day, oh yeah, and I worked a little. The Saturday before I returned home I participated in a Women Entrepreneur's conference. Very encouraging. (yes I hope to take the leap myself soon) I was so excited to meet my favorite blogger Heather Bailey. What a swell gal. And then drove the very long boring trip back to Saint Louis. My weekend was almost ruined by the high cost of gas, but I overcame.
So finally, got the watercolor finished. Maybe I'll paint Chicago when I go to New York next month.

Forty - 40 - Four, Zero

... not a number I really have looked forward to. But here it is. And my dearest friend flew in from sunny California to cold, wet, flooding St. Louis to ease the blow. How can a person, even a person who is rounding the "adult" corner be blue with friends like that. Thanks Samantha!!!! I love you!

UGHHHHHH and Crack

This is the part of being a watercolor artist I despise... FRAMING!!!!

First rule of thumb never ever never start anything at 10:30 at night. The only thing a person should start is the microwave to pop popcorn. That's it. But in true Amy fashion, I am up late the night before because I need to deliver my paintings tomorrow so they can be hung for my very first show here in St. Louis. (which I will write about later) . My hope is that you will learn from me because clearly I'm not learning from my mistakes.

1. Cutting mats for the painting requires exactness, patience and relatively good math skills. I have just spent hours working on a watercolor, and so it's my tendency to hurry through this process. There's a saying in carpentry, sewing and mat cutting that goes like this "measure twice, cut once". No, not here, not with me, my saying is "measure once, cut, swear, throw the mat across the room do it again." And the crazy part is that I've done this so many times you would think I would have learned my lesson...
2. Be gentle glass breaks. I broke two pieces of glass. Can't throw that across the room because I have neighbors that I would wake and a cat that could get hurt by flying glass.
3. Work on a clean surface and not carpet. I finally get one painting in frame without breaking the glass only to discover the worlds biggest piece of lint stuck between glass and painting.
4. Give up. There's always tomorrow and good light. I should have stopped when I broke the first piece of glass.

My dream is not necessarily to be a multi-millionaire or have a mansion, but to have someone who frames all my work. I'll give my watercolors to Freddy to frame and I won't have to worry about it (I like the name Freddy - you know, Freddy the Framer) So with that dream I'm going to call it a night and measure twice tomorrow. Really, I will....

PINK pink PINK

I need spring

because

I

need

PINK

Books

I just finished reading two really good books. Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and Crazy Aunt Purl's Drunk, Divorced and Covered in Cat Hair by Laurie Perry. (Check out Perry's blog here - it's hilarious and fun and she writes wonderfully about the craziness of Los Angeles too.) I never planned on reading these two "divorce" books at the same time, it just happened that way - go figure. I guess I'm just drawn to other people who have gone through the same things as I have. I think the common denominator is that divorce is crushing and you just don't think you'll recover or be whole again. I totally relate to that and reading about these women's journeys, their pain and what they did to get through is just some how comforting and you don't feel like you're such a freak in the world. It's always nice to know you are one of many freaks. What I found interesting is that they both "got out of Dodge" as soon as they could stop crying. I did the same. I went to Paris by myself with the only purpose to eat, paint and enjoy all things French. And I did. When I did this little sketch of the brasseri , I was sitting in another cafe window across the way. I great perch to draw, but mostly people watch. A man walked by me and I could see him through the window. He pinched his fingers to his lips and did a kiss thing and kept walking. I'm not sure what he meant, but it made my day. I loved Paris and would love to go back... maybe I will...

The Winter of My Discontent....

... well not really. But, I'm VERY ready for Spring. It's been interesting time this move of mine right smack dab in the middle of winter and which I also see as a personal winter of sorts. Leaving my friends and way of life behind me I headed to the middle of the country for new opportunities on many levels- with career, with art which I hope someday becomes my next career and with family. Great choices, great reasons and certainly no regrets. But around 3 pm on these cold days, I wonder... Where my days were once filled with phone calls and driving (oi vay - the driving) and meeting friends, going here, hurrying there, now my days are far less hectic, with fewer calls and people. There is a slowness, a silence, a state of just being wrapped up in a warm quilt watching the snow and the drab gray of winter - wondering when will this hibernation end. I realized I've not really spent any length of time in "hibernation" and though I'm not accustomed to it and feel a bit uncomfortable, I know it is for my good.
What you don't see in this picture is what I read into it. What I love about it. BabyKitty, who started her life with me in Texas, then California and now Missouri, looks out the window at this great big pine. She watches a squirrel that lives there and I'm sure takes a great deal of pleasure of taunting Baby while he sits on the iron railing eating a nut. There are also all kinds of birds that jump from limb to limb and she watches them too -- utterly fascinated. She enjoys this morning ritual of gulping down her food and sitting in the window. I'm pretty sure she doesn't even think twice about her old life in California and how warm it was or if the birds were more interesting. She's happy now. NOW is what she has and only knows and she found a window to enjoy it. Granted I know she's just a cat, a pretty smart one I might add (because she can fetch), but she doesn't have the ability to regret, doubt or lament. Somehow I think if she did have that capability, she wouldn't waste her time wondering about the past, her choices or even wishing for spring, I think she would say, "Come look out the window and see all those birds!"

Mama Bear and Papa Bear and Soon Came Baby Bear

Only a couple months to go before the baby comes. I can not wait. But boy, or rather GIRL, my life is really going to change and I'm JUST the aunt. I'm working on my "baby talk" and I'm not referring to "EEeewwww aren't you the cutest little coochie coochie cooo...." what I mean is that I need to get rid of my sailor mouth - (clear throat). For example when I spill the kitty litter on the floor I would say "Oh Snap!" Easy!!!! and I feel sure that practice will only perfect my baby talk. However, I've decided I'll just tell her I suffer from occasional bouts of Tourette syndrome when driving and it's a medical condition so I can't help it... I can just hear the interesting conversation between my brother and me in the not so far future...

(phone rings)
Hello...
No, I don't know where she learned that word maybe at school....
oh that's right she's not in school yet...
well, maybe it was the church nursery .... So this is what I worked on today - the invitations to the Baby Shower. I originally wanted the theme to be "dirty diapers" but I also wanted people to attend the Baby Shower. Fun, fun, fun ...

What do you mean I need 3 new tires?

When you think of the great artists in the world, or at least my favorite, Andrew Wyeth, John Singer Sargent, Cezanne, Picasso, Egon Schiele and maybe even Beatrix Potter you think of them as artists wrestling with ideas, colors, the change of light, philosophy maybe even love but NOT with the fact they need three new tires for their car. Granted, I realize I'm "no Picasso" but hearing the Firestone guy, Bill, tell me my tires are no good is a total creative buzz kill. How can I paint when I have tires to buy, hairballs to clean up, dishes to wash, huh? Tell me?Simple, you do a "color study". This is what you do when you are too old and too "mature" to buy a coloring book and crayons and lay on the floor all afternoon while you color away to the music of "Captain and Tennille" (Which I might add here, I just bought "The Ultimate Collection" from iTunes and it's awesome!!!!)

You take a picture draw it a couple of times and paint it a couple of different ways. In this case I did a non-water soluble pen and watercolor version and then a straight watercolor version. And yes, the pain of my tire purchase dramatically diminished.

Welcome to St. Louis -zzzzZAP

This has been a very long two months since my last post. I'm glad to be settled in my new place here in St. Louis and ready to get back to the business of living, creating and painting. I'll just lay out the bad news of living in a winter "wonderland" and then we will bask in the highlights of the mid-west. First, it's cold every single day. Now, to most of you that's not a surprise, but I haven't experienced crisp, eye watering, nose running, finger chilling cold in a long time. (I'm dreading my first heating bill.) Second, I haven't had a good hair day since my arrival and rub a Bounce dryer sheet through my hair just to keep it in place. (roof top view from my apartment)

And thirdly, I've pulled out an old tube of Payne's gray which I was told by many a teacher is a no-no color to use in watercolor paintings because it doesn't mix well with other colors and basically can bring a heaviness to a watercolor painting very quickly. But I have to say, there's no gray like it to express the gray of these winter days. It's been hard to come from Sunny California to Gray St. Louis. But the hardest part of all is missing my California friends. I miss you all terribly - Samantha, Deb, Gianino, Carol, Danny, John, Michel, Sharon, Jen, Wally, Michele...

But let me tell you about the good stuff - I live in a great big, beautiful, old apartment where BabyKitty slides across the floor when we play fetch and she makes the funniest face when her little pink nose gets ZAPPED by static electricity. I can write my rent check without feeling physical pain in my chest. I have my art table set right in front of two big windows. The natives I've met are truly kind and helpful. There is a White Castle in my neighborhood - my FAVORITE - and yes, I ate there four times the first week I moved here. Living near my brother and his wife is awesome and I'm never, not for one second, lonely. I love all the typical mid-west 1920s brick houses everywhere. My neighborhood is old and close by is a brewery and a railroad track which feels like I live somewhere between the sitcom "Laverne and Shirley" and the movie "Fried Green Tomatoes" And there's SO much good stuff to paint - I'm learning my grays and learning the light. I look forward to the spring. And best of all St. Louis believes and supports the fine arts in a HUGE way.
Oh the possibilities....This is a quote I've had for years. I liked it so much that I painted this and tacked it on a wall as a reminder, maybe even a hope. But to my surprise, the ideal of this is quite different than the reality. I don't know why I'm surprised. It's hard to sacrifice a perfectly fine life (that would be mine in California) for a bigger life (which I hope is St. Louis) So the moral of this is be really, really careful of the quotes you collect - you just might have to live one out.